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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw

✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !

summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo

( MASTERLIST )

Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth.

He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.

It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.

Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him.

“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.

You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”

Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.

When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.

Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.

Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.

“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”

Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.

You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”

The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness.

“…I’m gonna try.”

He was pretty much a goner after that.

The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.

Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.

And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.

He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.

That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.

The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).

And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.

If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.

But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.

So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.

Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.

Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.

Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.

Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.

Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.

You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”

The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.

He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.

“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”

Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”

“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”

With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.

“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.

He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.

And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.

Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.

Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess.

“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Eds—”

“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”

“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.

“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”

Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”

You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”

He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”

“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”

“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.

It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”

“Eddie!” you scold.

“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”

“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”

“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod

Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.

“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”

“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”

He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”

“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”

With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step.

You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.

Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.

“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”

You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”

“…Really?”

“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.

“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”

A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.

Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.

You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.

“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”

You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.

“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.

“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”

You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side.

You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.

It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.

Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.

You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace.

You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.

Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.

You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”

“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.

“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”

“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell.

You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.

But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.

Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.

You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch.

He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe.

You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.

The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?

Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.

Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you.

Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.

His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.

He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.

As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.

“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”

“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”

You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.

But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.

“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.

It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.

“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”

“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”

Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.

The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.

He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.

You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.

“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.

“…What?”

“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”

You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different.

“Better?” you tease.

Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.

You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.

“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.

Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose.

You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.

You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.

“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #st oneshots #eddie spaghetti oneshot

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beeehiives · 4 months

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Steddie Nicknames ❀◕ ‿ ◕❀

What nicknames/petnames would Steve and Eddie give each other?

You’ll have to hear me out on this one, but I think Steve is a pretty basic guy. “Babe,” “baby,” is pretty much what he’s used to. Anything other than that and you were bound to earn a weird look from whatever girl you were out with.

Eddie, however, has an overactive imagination and less of a social filter. He just likes seeing Steve blush. Angel, pretty boy, beau, lover boy. He even sneaks in a cowboy in there somewhere, and Steve isn’t sure whether to laugh or rip his shirt off.

Eventually, Steve adapts and grows more comfortable. He’ll only experiment when it’s just him and Eddie, alone in Steve’s room, late at night, never having been someone for massive public displays of affection. Darling, my love, beautiful. He whispers them into Eddie’s mouth, trying to infuse the depth of his feelings into the words.

Once Steve is more comfortable being outward about their relationship, Eddie takes to teasing him by calling him the most over-the-top, corny names he can manage. Snookums, honey bear, sweet cheeks, are among the pile. All of them make the kids groan and throw things at Eddie, but he’s too busy cracking up at Steve’s beet red face.

One night, everyone’s over at Steve’s house for a movie night. The kids are in one big pile on the floor in front of the TV, insisting Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, and his friend Argyle take the big couch. Steve and Eddie are left on the big armchair in the corner of the room.

They’re leaned back in it, Steve close to nodding off in Eddie’s arms. He doesn’t want to move, but his bladder wins out and he gently moves Steve over so he can make a quick trip to the bathroom. As he’s walking out of the living room, he hears Steve’s groggy voice.

“Wh’re you going, honey?” Steve’s poking his head up, bleary eyes tracking Eddie’s movement toward the hallway. Silence falls over the captive crowd, and Eddie’s cheeks heat up, despite himself.

An echoing “gross, guys!” from Max breaks the tension and the group dissolves into laughter before continuing to watch the movie. When he returns, Eddie tucks an arm around Steve, pressing the back of his palm to Steve’s flushed face.

“Honey, huh?” he teases.

“Shut up,” Steve manages, sheepish grin blinding Eddie with love.

#steddie #steddie headcanon #steve harrington x eddie munson

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denim-mixtapes · 2 years

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The Nice Guy Finishes Last - (Steve Harrington/Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k

Pairing: Steve Harrington/F!Reader

Tags: Explicit Smut -- 18+ only, minors DNI. Best friends to lovers, mild jealous!reader mild possessive!steve, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, p in v sex, admissions of feelings, gooey fluff in the middle of sex.

Summary: When your best friend learns that none of your previous partners have taken care of your needs before their own (let alone gotten you off at all), he decides to take matters into his own hands -- literally, but even in the throes of passion, he's still your Steve.

Crackling speakers and a Madonna record provide the soundtrack to a house party at the Harrington house as you make your rounds to visit with friends. Steve’s friends mostly. Steve and Robin are the only two in attendance you would actually call close friends, Nancy and Eddie and Vickie were friendly, of course, but outside of that small circle everyone who showed up to these things you would call an acquaintance at best, and strangers that you can’t stand at worst.

Still, as Steve’s best friend and often the co-host of these things, you feel inclined to at least greet as many people as possible before letting loose and enjoying yourself. After quite some time and a couple watered down mixed drinks, you decide that you’ve done enough mingling and try to find your actual friends.

You half expected to see Steve wrapped up in some new girl already by the time you joined him on the couch, but bit back the bitter thought before it could show on your face. To your surprise, he’s engaged in an animated conversation with Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan Byers, who you didn’t even know was in town until you saw him sitting on that couch. His arm is snug around Nancy’s shoulder and she’s leaning on him heavily, drunk with laughter and cheeks red at whatever they’re talking about, which is a far cry from the tense arguing they had been doing the last time he was in town, but you’re happy to see her happy.

She and Robin smile at you in greeting as you fall into the couch beside Steve heavily, the cushion bouncing your body a little on impact.

Steve doesn’t greet you, he’s mid-sentence, but his arm wraps around your waist in a too-familiar way and pulls you closer. Robin raises her eyebrows at the pair of you, but you just glare back.

She’s been on your back for months about your relationship with Steve, or lack thereof. You made the mistake of mentioning your feelings for him in casual conversation, and ever since then she has been insisting he feels the same way, but if that were the case, you would think the endless parade of dates and new women he brought around would at least slow down, right? Still, there have been times you were inclined to believe her. When his smile would soften when you entered a room, or he would hold on for a beat too long after hugging you. The sudden flush on his cheeks and down his chest at his pool parties when you would catch him staring. Sometimes it’s easy to pretend he might feel the same way. Either way, you’ve been best friends since elementary school, and you’d rather keep it that way than take the risk and ruin it all.

His fingers squeeze at your waist now, and you hide your blush behind another sip of your vodka-something.

“That’s what ‘nice guys finish last’ actually means, Byers!” He scoffs, pulling his arm from around you to lean forward into the conversation, elbows on his knees. “It’s not some lament about not getting the girl, it's about getting the girl off before you do.”

There’s a bitterness in your throat as you scoff into your drink. You can understand why Nancy is red as a cherry now, but the comment still doesn’t sit right with you.

“You got somethin’ to say over there, babe?” Steve asks, turning to you with a quirked brow and a challenge in his eye.

“Yeah,” you roll your eyes and discard your empty cup on the coffee table. It cracks with the force. When you continue, you lay on the sarcasm just as heavy as he just did. “Sure do. ‘Cause most guys definitely let their partner finish at all, let alone first.”

“Nah, nah, nah,” Steve waves your comment out of the air before his hand lands on your knee and he lays back onto the back of the couch. Looking up at you, forehead wrinkled with faux concern, he continues, stumbling over his words under the intensity of your glare. “The right guys do. You can’t tell me not one guy you’ve been with has…taken care of you first before themselves? Not a single one?”

If your eyes could physically roll out of your head, you’re sure they would. What little liquor you’ve had is hot, liquid courage in your veins and you couldn’t hold back your candid, bitter response if you wanted to.

“Steven,” you chide, the sound of his full name draws a chorus of ‘oooohs’ from the group around you. “I have never had a single orgasm that wasn’t from my own hands. Not one.”

Pressure on your knee where his grip tightens at your words. His eyes darken with mirth and some heated expression you can’t quite place, and he opens his mouth to reply, but Robin interrupts.

“Okay let’s not give Harrington another opportunity to stick his foot in his mouth,” she’s across the circle in seconds, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up off the couch. “Come on, I need another drink, you do too.”

You put up some resistance against her hold on your wrist, but follow her without complaint. She remains wordless until you’re safe in the kitchen, where the only other soul is Jonathan’s friend Argyle, already asleep on the floor by the sliding patio door.

“What the hell was that?” Robin whispers harshly, looking over your shoulder to make sure nobody followed.

“What?” You replied simply, “he was being an asshole.”

“Please,” she says with a laugh. Her tone is light and teasing as she talks, mocking your previous conversation. “Oh, Steven, nice touch by the way with his full name, Nobody’s ever made me cum before, maybe I need YOU to give it a try.” Her smile widens as your eyes do. “Jesus, it’s like you were begging him to take you upstairs here and now.”

“I was not.” You insist, then shove her shoulder playfully when all she does is smirk. “He just says shit like that to push my buttons. I’ve confided in him before about the guys that I dated, he knows they’ve been less than stellar in bed. He was definitely trying to get under my skin. Rub it in.”

You just barely catch her mutter under her breath, “he wants to rub something alright.”

An annoyed groan is your only response, before pouring yourself another drink and joining the rest of the party.

By the time the party starts winding down, most of the attendees headed home to their own beds or onto the next party and your close circle of friends each claiming a room for themselves to sleep in, you’ve sobered quite a bit. Perpetually afraid of hangovers, you made it a habit to switch to water after a certain point in the night. Especially because you were also the one who stayed up even later to clean up a bit before knocking out, yourself. The only thing worse than a hangover was being put to work while hungover, so you tried to prevent either.

You think you’re the only one awake, stacking cups and dumping out half-drunk beers in the kitchen sink. When you go to close the curtains to the patio you notice that at some point, Argyle has moved out to the pool deck and is asleep on one of the vinyl loungers, cuddling a garden gnome. (Thinking back, you’re almost certain the Harringtons do not have any garden gnomes.)

Giggling at the sight, you shake your head and make sure the door is unlocked, just in case he decides to come back in before shutting the curtains.

Movement and a voice behind you makes you jump. “What’s so funny?”

You turn to the voice, knowing it belonged to your best friend before you even saw him, but still clutching your chest in surprise. “Oh uh,” you point your thumb out back, “Argyle. Snuggling with lawn ornaments.”

Steve nods slowly, fidgeting with the empty beer can in his hand. “Sounds about right…what are you still doing up? Everyone’s asleep.”

“I always do this,” you say, then tease, “what did you think there was some magic party fairy that always cleaned up while you slept?”

He has the audacity to look innocent, looking around at all the mess and shrugs. “I guess I never realized how bad it was when I went to bed.”

Yeah, because you’re usually already upstairs with the flavor of the week before everyone leaves anyway.

You shake the bitter thought from your mind and opt for a friendly, “Yeah well, cleaning relaxes me anyway so no big deal.”

“Here, I’ll help,” before you can even protest he continues, mumbling, “‘M not even tired, I slept until, like, 1 PM today.”

So the two of you move through the house in a silence that sits somewhere between comfortable and not, stepping over an occasional sleeping body, collecting trash and recycling, straightening books and blankets and anything out of place. Your conversation from earlier hangs in the air, and you can hear Robin’s voice urging you to say something about it as you move through the house. It’s like a dance, his body always close to yours. You step to the side, he follows, you move on to another room, he follows, always within arms reach but never reaching out. You can feel the heat from his body nearby when you reach up on your tiptoes to grab a red plastic cup from the top of the bookshelf, just out of your reach. Before you can step away to ask for assistance, you feel his hand on your lower back, steadying you, and his chest presses up against your shoulder as he slides up behind you to reach it himself.

He mumbles an apology and you swear you can see his cheeks pink in the dim light of the den.

“Hey,” he starts, voice soft and close. “I’m sorry if I was an asshole earlier. I just…never mind. I was just drunk.”

“No,” you protest, “go on. You just what?” You steel yourself for his admission, that he was just doing it to get a rise out of you, but it never comes.

“I can’t believe it, I guess.”

“What, that most men are the worst?” Your words are hard, but your voice is light. You cross your arms over your stomach comfortingly and lean on the armrest of the couch behind you.

“No, that-” he pinches the bridge of his nose. You’ve known him long enough to know that this expression means he’s at a loss for words. That what he wants to say is on the tip of his tongue but he can’t bring himself to say it. A sigh. A brush of his fingers through his hair. “I mean, yeah, I guess, but I just can’t believe not one person has put your needs before their own. You deserve that. At least that, and so much more.”

You snort, “well, keep spreading your gospel like you were to Byers earlier and maybe the trend will catch on.” You can feel yourself shrinking, your posture drawn inward at his words. You deserve that. You have to remind yourself to not twist them into something with more meaning.

“No,” he says, firm, and with a step forward. He rests his hands on the armrest on either side of your hips, bringing his eyes down to your level. They’re sincere. The soft, sweet Steve you’ve always known, but they’re dark, pupils wide and lids heavy as he studies your face. “I’m serious. Those assholes don’t even know what they’re missing out on.”

“I-” your breath catches in your throat. Steve’s face is so close to yours that his hair tickles your forehead. You could play connect the dots with his freckles at this proximity, and your eyes do just that, following them from his eyes, down his cheekbones and over the prominent ones on his neck. His adam's apple bobs, swallowing hard when you lift your gaze to his lips, wondering if that’s where this is headed. “What do you mean?”

His own eyes fall to your mouth as he replies, “how drunk are you?”

“Not at all.”

You intend to ask him again what he means, but he’s inching even closer still. Just before he closes the gap entirely, he murmurs a soft, “good,” and then his lips are on yours, warm and wanting and insistent. He brings a hand up to your jaw, holding you in place as his lips work against your own, tongue sweeping at the seam, awaiting your consent to keep going. They part on their own accord, granting him the access you both desperately crave. You melt into him, arms winding around his neck as his tongue brushes yours and his teeth graze your lower lip.

This kiss has a sense of urgency, but an all around feeling of ‘finally.” He smells like the same Ralph Lauren Polo he always has, spice and pine and something a little sweet, and tastes like whiskey. You can’t seem to pull him close enough.

Breath ragged as he breaks the kiss, his thumb strokes your lip and his chest heaves, a look of elation and a little bit of a challenge dances on his features.

You avert your gaze, suddenly shy once again, cheeks warm and lips pressed into a thin line as you study the floor.

“Look at me,” he says, thumb on your chin and pulling your attention back up from the ground. “I’ll say it again. Those assholes don’t know what they’re missing out on, because if you look like this after one kiss,” he pauses to run his fingertips over the deepening color on your cheeks, down the length of your neck, and along the collarbone rising and falling with your rapid breath, eyes following the path his fingers drew. “I can only imagine how spectacular you look as you cum.” You bite your lip in an attempt to stop another grin, and he stands abruptly, startling you with his sudden change in demeanor and taking a few steps back. His hands rake through his hair as he paces, then land on his hips as he turns back to face you.

Unsure of what to say, you giggle out a soft, “their loss I guess?”

“No fucking kidding,” Steve muses, bringing onefist up to rest his chin as he studies you. This new side of you he’s never been granted access to, flushed and breathless and still somehow shy, lips wet and pink and parted as you wait for him to respond. “God, if I were them...if given the opportunity I would-” He cuts himself off. Presses his lips together to hold in whatever it was he was about to admit. He looks away this time, a hint of worry in his eyes.

You reach out with your foot to kick his own softly, your socked toes nudging against his ankle playfully. “You’d what?”

“Full honesty?” He asks. It’s something you’ve been doing since you were kids. In serious moments, in moments of struggle or heavy emotion, if either of you asked for full honesty, the other would give it without question. You nod. His eyes darken again as he mulls the words over in his head. Then, meeting your eyes with a renewed intensity he says, “well, I’d get you to three before I was even undressed.”

Not for the first time tonight, your breath stutters, catching in your throat at his admission. You itch to respond, inside your head you’re screaming to say something clever, or even just say anything, but you’re just sitting there on the armrest of the couch, looking up at your best friend with this dumbstruck expression.

He can see your internal struggle, the awestruck look in your eyes, and the hint of a smile twitches at the corners of his lips, but he’s still been left hanging, vulnerable. So he asks, “what’s going on in your head? Full honesty.”

“I’m-” You hesitate. Your heart is racing, and there’s so much you want to tell him. So much more than orgasms and the order in which they should be given. So much more than playdates and best friends and platonic I love you’s, but he’s looking at your lips again and all you can think about is how much you need to feel his against them again, so you decide that the feelings talk will have to wait. You settle on a hushed, “I’m thinking that you’ve had that opportunity for a while…and that I might lose my mind if you don’t kiss me again, Harrington.” You were speaking to the floor, a little unsure, looking at the spot just in front of his feet, but when his name leaves your tongue, you finally look back up at him. He’s just as stunned as you had been, his mouth agape and eyes studying you for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he’s back on you in seconds, grip on your chin once more as he bends to meet your lips. You stand, slowly, pressing your chest to him, needing to be closer.

He doesn’t seek permission this time, licking into your mouth with a hot, hungry enthusiasm. Greedy hands wrap around your waist, exploring the expanse of your back, up your neck to fist in your hair, down to rest on your ass and squeeze. Your own rest on his chest, keeping you steady as he kisses you senseless. Static fills your brain, fuzzy, warm, and all you can smell is Steve.

This is the Steve you always dreamed of kissing. All roaming hands and hot skin and hungry kisses. He moves with a confidence you only ever saw through jealous eyes, but now that he’s in your arms it’s addicting. Self assured, confident hands creep below your cheeks and wrap around your upper thighs, lifting without a word, breaking your kiss and drawing a squeal from you as you’re swept off your feet. You wrap your legs around his waist for stability, and place a hand on his neck, grinning down at him from your new vantage point. He busies himself with your neck, nosing along your pulse, breathing you in. A sloppy kiss here, a gentle peck there, scraping teeth against your pulse point as he explores your skin. He stops when he notices your breath hitch, smirking into your skin and knowing he’s found a sweet spot. He focuses his attention there, another bite soothed by the caress of his tongue before he latches on and sucks.

A whimper falls from your lips, your hand grabbing hold of the long hair at the nape of his neck. “Steve-” you whine, torn between pushing him away and holding him there in that very spot, “don’t - people are gonna notice.” Even in your haze, you’re worried about what people might say, knowing that everyone in this house will know exactly who left those marks, come morning.

“Let ‘em talk.” He mumbles into your flesh, looking up at you through fanned lashes before nipping his way across your throat to give the other side the same attention. “Been wanting this for so long...gonna mark you up however I want, show everyone you’re mine.” He practically growls the last word before craning his neck for another feverish kiss.

Steve walks you around the couch and sits back into it, pressing your knees to the plush cushion on either side of him. His hands roam again, fingers play at the strip of exposed skin between your top and jeans, hook in your belt loops, creep up your spine beneath your shirt.

Gripping the edges of your top, he raises a brow in question. “Can I…” he doesn’t finish the question, just taps the skin where his hands rest.

You’re about to nod, but movement in the next room stops you both. There’s a shuffle, some footsteps, and then the bathroom door closes.

You both look at the entry to the den, an open arched doorway with no actual door to be seen. A fit of giggles threatens to escape, but Steve holds a finger to his lips and taps your hips so that you stand. You poke your head out the doorway, making sure the bathroom door is still closed. It is, so you make a break for it, Steve hot on your heels and both of you hushing your laughter as you run up the stairs and try to make it to his bedroom before anyone else wakes up or your friend in the bathroom comes back out.

The door clicks behind you. Stood in front of it, giggling, you look on as Steve sits on the edge of his unmade bed and leans back on his elbows. Your laughter subsides as he looks you up and down, his once soft, fond simile turning devious as you both remember where you had been just moments before.

You lock the door quickly before padding across the carpet to stand in front of him, and he sits up fully, gripping your waist again and nosing at your stomach. He lifts the hem of your shirt and places an open mouthed kiss on your hip bone, smirking up at you when you gasp at the action.

“Where were we?” He asks, inching the fabric even higher. Your nod is near imperceptible but he notices, and he’s pulling the garment up and over your head and tossing it aside. “Oh,” he chuckles in disbelief and shakes his head. His hands cover his face, rubbing his eyes and then reach out for you, finding purchase on your neck and waist, pulling you down into him. It’s like neither of you can believe you’ve wound up here. “C’mere.”

His lips find yours again, fingers splaying across the cups of your bra, teasing along the lace trim. Without warning, he flips you, your body bouncing lightly on the mattress. Eyes raking your body with admiration, he pulls at the cups of your bra, exposing your breasts to his gaze and the cool air. Your nipples perk under his stare and the chill, and you already know that your flush has made its way down your chest, but Steve is looking at you in awe and you’re already touch drunk before he’s even gotten started. He continues his earlier assault on your neck, moving on even lower to bite and suck deep purple marks into the swell of your breast, lapping at one nipple hungrily while tweaking the other with his fingers before switching to give each side equal attention. You keen at the pinch of his fingers, arching into his touch with a whine. The way he looks at you floods your core with arousal, and you don’t realize that you’re doing it, but you push on his shoulder to urge him further south.

He tsks, “little eager, are we?”

You huff, hiding in your hands, dragging them down your face and grinning at the ceiling. “Shut up.”

The pop of the button on your jeans is his only response. Your pulse races, tiny fires igniting along your skin wherever he touches as he drags your pants down your legs. He settles himself on the floor, gripping your ankles and pulling you to the very edge of the bed. His gaze zeroes in on your core, the little wet patch on your panties making his mouth water. He looks like a man starved, like he could absolutely devour you, and he intends to.

Wasting no time, he dives in, sucking another mark into your thigh before turning his head to mouth at your clothed mound. His nose brushes against your clit through the fabric, and it feels like lightning to your nerves. You cry out, hands balling into fists in his sheets as he groans at your wetness. He plucks at your waistband with his teeth, letting it snap back into your skin once before deciding now is not the time to tease and finally pulling them off.

Steve rests his head on your thigh, smiling innocently up at you when he reaches out to drag a digit between your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertip and circling your clit once before bringing the finger to his mouth and sucking it clean. He lets out another heady groan, eyes closing as he gets his first taste of you, and then returns to the task at hand. He swipes between your lips again, prodding at your entrance before thrusting in with two fingers. Your responding moan takes you by surprise and has you clamping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he urges, pressing a kiss into your thigh where his head rests. Fingers pump in and out, his thumb rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves. “Everyone else is asleep, and they’re all downstairs. I wanna hear you.” You clench around his fingers at that, drawing unison moans from both of you. Steve mutters praise into your skin as he fucks you with his fingers, curling them every so often to stroke that sweet spot inside you. “That’s it, let it out,” when you let out another high-pitched moan. “So wet for me, doin’ so well,” when your hips stutter to meet his touch even faster. “You smell so good, baby, I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.”

Your pleasure coils tight and low in your belly, and you hold Steve’s gaze for as long as you can stand. The intensity of his stare and the press of his fingers to your core is all too much and you’re already so close to the edge. He can tell, and he smirks, sinking a third finger into you on his next thrust. “C’mon,” he urges, pumping faster, working harder at your nub. “Let go for me.”

You do as he says. Skin prickling and toes curling, your orgasm takes over you. Head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, you cry out your pleasure as he works you through it. Every thrust of his fingers sends another shockwave through you, but he takes mercy and moves his thumb, giving your sensitive clit a much needed break. He’s stroking you lazily now. No urgency to his touch, but just enough to keep you on edge, keep you wanting more.

The laugh that he gives is cocky, downright devilish as he says, “That’s one.”

You throw an arm over your closed eyes, giggling at the comment and shaking your head. Even with his fingers buried deep inside you and his breath ghosting your pussy, he’s still the same old Harrington.

“I get it Steve, you made your point.”

“Uh-uh.” He says, shaking his own head. He withdraws his fingers and you whimper at the loss, clenching around nothing when he once again licks the digits clean. He crawls back up your body, stopping to hover over you with a fist on either side of your head. Leaning down he gives you another messy, hurried kiss. “I believe I promised you three.” Just as quickly as last time, Steve rolls again, shuffling higher onto the bed and pulling your body atop his. You both groan as your hips settle on his clothed, hard cock. His hips thrust up into you, the rough denim of his jeans a new, delicious kind of friction that has you whining into his mouth. Settling heavier into his pillows, Steve’s hands grip your hips and urge you forward. You break the kiss, scandalized at what you think he’s suggesting. You sit back, lips bitten and swollen and red, cheeks hot. You want to shake your head, tell him that’s not something you’re into but he looks so eager. Another hushed, “c’mere,” tumbles from him and you’re letting him guide you forward.

Your thighs cage him in, and his arms wrapped around them hold you steady. You’re hovering just above his smug grin, and instead of making some smart comment, you reach down to run your fingers affectionately through his hair. His tongue laps at your entrance, circling your hole with a pointed tip before dipping inside. His nose bumps at your clit with his fervor, and you mewl at the sensation. The lower half of his face is covered by your cunt, wet and sloppy and slick, tongue gliding through your folds. He groans, eating you out like a man starved being offered the most delectable meal. Your legs shake with the effort to keep still. Steve takes notice, reaching for your hips to shift you forward, pulling your full weight onto him.

You yelp, tumbling forward and steadying yourself with a firm grip on the headboard. He guides you from there, rocking your hips against his mouth. Your shallow pants fill the room, and the sounds coming from Steve are downright obscene. Wet, greedy sounds, paired with a moan that sends vibrations through your whole core. If you weren’t already wet enough, his hungry, desperate sounds keep sending shockwaves through you, and he tilts your hips forward so that he can wrap his lips around your clit, tongue sweeping over it insistently. The pressure in your belly returns, your thighs clenching on either side of his face as your vision goes out of focus. You barely mutter a needy, “close,” before another orgasm rips through you, throwing your head back with another wild moan and gripping the headboard with both hands.

Steve doesn’t let up.

Not only does he work your through your second orgasm, but he keeps you right on the edge of a third; sucking desperately at your lower lips, fucking into you with his tongue, humming around your clit to send vibrations straight through you. You didn’t know it was possible to be this close again this quickly, but Steve has you singing his praises and whining his name as he makes you cum for the third time that night.

Your thighs quake, your head resting heavily against your arms on the headboard, and you can’t stop the bubble of a laugh from escaping your lips. You’re giddy, drunk on Steve, utterly exhausted but desperate for more. He slows, still lapping at your wetness and working you down from two over-the-top orgasms. When it all becomes too much, your hips twitch back, overstimulated, and he takes the hint, kissing your thigh gently and helping you down onto the mattress beside him.

Steve leans up on his elbow, hovering over you with a dreamy look plastered on his smug face. You reach out for him, pulling his face to yours and tasting yourself on his tongue. It’s sinful, how much the taste of your arousal on his tongue only turns you on more, and you find yourself reaching for the hem of his shirt. Breaking apart only to allow the shirt to slip over his head, then he’s back on you, a little distracted trying to undo his pants, but unable to keep his lips off of you for another second longer.

Jeans tossed aside, kicked off his legs as if they offended him, you reach out to palm him through his boxers, savoring the animalistic grunt that it pulls from him, and pull back the waistband, reaching in to fist his cock. His lips part, forehead resting on your own as you stroke him, panting and disheveled above you. You shift up onto your knees and crawl down the bed a little further, hovering in front of his member as you stroke, drooling.

He stops you with his thumb and forefinger on your chin, pulling you back up the bed.

“As much as I would love – and trust me I would love – for you to suck my dick, this night will be over a lot quicker than I’d like it to be if you do…” He holds your face with both hands and presses a heated kiss to your lips, “...and I know you’ve still got one more in you, don’t you?”

You only nod dumbly, lower lip captured between your teeth, and Steve chuckles as he reaches across you to fish in the bedside table for a condom. He makes quick work of tearing open the packet and rolling it on, then he’s hovering over you once again, reaching down to trail his fingers through your wetness one more time. He grins when you give a weak, spent moan, and bumps your nose with his own. A twinkle of the Steve you know and love, a familiar smile and soft eyes. He kisses you softly, a tender contrast to the dirty talk and rough hands from before, and works himself into you slowly, letting you savor the stretch. He bottoms out with a huff, and peppers kisses over your cheekbones. He stays that way until you’re whining for it and gripping at his hair, nails digging into his scalp.

Pulling almost all the way out, he thrusts slowly once, twice, and then you give a deep moan and he lets go. The room fills with the wet slap of skin on skin as he fucks you, groaning, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His sense of urgency is back, like the only thing on his mind now that he’s inside you is getting you off again.

Your hips buck off the mattress to meet his as white hot pleasure licks up your spine. Already thoroughly fucked out, you know you won’t last much longer, a fact that would embarrass you any other day but when Steve smiles at you and snakes his hand between your bodies to toy with your clit, you know no shame.

Steve invades all your senses, his cologne and musk surround you, his ragged breathing ringing in your ears. You can taste his sweat on your tongue and every inch of your skin he touches is alight with pleasure.

“One more,” he pleads, hips stuttering. He’s close, chasing his own release but holding back just enough to drag another from you first. His fingers pick up speed and his teeth graze the shell of your ear, whispering, “just gimme one more, cum for me one more time, baby.”

His words scorch your skin, hot and heavy in your ear. Your heart is racing, but so is his, pulse thrumming against your hands when you reach out to pull him into a final bruising kiss by the neck.

You moan your release into his open mouth, biting onto his lower lip and walls squeezing around him one last time. Steve isn’t far behind you, his pace faltering as he thrusts into you and stilling as he spills into the condom, forehead on yours and eyes screwed shut.

Both of you stay that way for a while, quiet, breathing each other in. Your hand absently plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he dusts little kisses along your collarbone. When he does pull out, it's with a shudder and a sigh, and he turns away only briefly to toss the condom into the trash. Searching the bed blindly, he finds his top sheet and pulls it up to cover your lower halves and pulls you in to spoon him, one arm wrapped around your middle, the other playing with your hair.

There’s never been a more comfortable silence between the two of you, and here in his arms, facing the darkness of his room, you feel a surge of bravery. Taking his hand, you play with his fingers and breathe deeply.

“Hey, Stevie?”

“Hmm?” His voice is quiet, just as content and sleep heavy as yours. A kiss on the crown of your head.

“Was this…this wasn’t just a one time thing, right? Full honesty.”

His hold on you tightens, “I sure hope not.”

You beam into the darkness before you and snuggle in closer. “Good,” you mumble. “‘Cause I think I’m kinda in love with you.”

“Yeah,” he grips your hand tighter and brings it above your head to place a kiss on your knuckles. “Yeah, I know the feeling. I think I’ve been in love with you for years.”

You let the quiet take over, then. There’ll be much more to talk about in the morning, when the sun is up and you’ve both rested, but you’re about to fall asleep in his arms with this new and somehow familiar feeling of comfort surrounding you. This is home, Steve is home…and he’s damn generous in bed.

#steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things reader insert #stranger things x reader #x reader #smut

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queenimmadolla · 1 year

Note

Eddie Munson. Love. Established relationship

𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

“I cannot believe them.” Steve huffed out, hands resting on his hips as his foot tapped against the asphalt outside of the police station.

“You already said that,” Jonathan blanched, leaning back against the hood of his car while Argyle closely examined his own hands for whatever reason.

“Well, I can’t!” He snapped again and Eddie smirked, thoroughly amused with the situation. And worried.

He was also very worried.

Half an hour ago, he’d been in the trailer, eating mac and cheese straight from the pot when the phone rang.

It was Hopper. Specifically, Chief Hopper. As in, on duty, Chief Hopper. Eddie had immediately jumped into a monologue about how he hadn’t done anything and even if he did, Hopper had no proof of it but Hopper wasn’t calling to tell Eddie he had six cop cars in route.

He was calling to tell Eddie to come pick up his girlfriend, who had gotten into a bar brawl.

He’d raced the fuck over and was surprised to see the other guys pull up as well, though he probably shouldn’t have given the fact you’d gone out with Robin, Nancy and Eden.

What the fuck kind of trouble could that roster have gotten into???

Enough to warrant being taken to the police station.

Hopper had informed him you’d all be getting warnings, leeway you all got most definitely just because he was now Jonathan’s stepdad.

“It can’t have been that bad,” Eddie rolled his eyes when Steve froze in his irritable mom-pose and slowly turned to face him.

“Can’t have been that bad—WE’RE AT THE POLICE STATION!”

“Would you rather it be a courtroom?” Eddie asked, cocking an eyebrow. He pitied Buckley for the scolding she’d no doubt get from Steve on their drive home.

“I’d rather not have to pick her up from anywhere other than her house or work!”

“Calm down, Mother Hen. It was probably nothing,”

It was definitely something.

The doors to the station opened, Nancy was the first out with Robin trailing her, you following Robin and Eden on your heels.

You all looked like you had definitely been involved in a fight, clothes rumpled and torn, hair a mess and Nancy sported a bloody lower lip. She started crying the moment she was in Jonathan’s arms, but he didn’t think it was because of her lip or even the fight, Nancy was just a very emotional drunk and her staggering was an obvious sign of intoxication.

You skipped right over to him and Eddie knew you were drunk, too.

“Hi, baby! I missed ya!” You sang as you slipped your arms around his waist to press yourself up against him for a hug, side of your face resting against his chest.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Eddie grabbed you by the shoulders, gently trying to pry you away from him so he could look you over for injuries but you refused to release your hold. The most he could do was get you to crane back a little so you could look at him.

“Neva’ betta’. Why?” You asked, cocking your head and beaming up at him.

Eddie’s face broke out into a grin.

“Because a little birdy told me you were in a scrap.”

You were about to reply before the sound of Steve and Robin arguing with each other distracted you and you turned your head to watch them.

Eddie had to physically turn it back, and he was laughing as he did.

“C’mon, buttercup, I need you to stay with me, yeah?”

He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, dipping his head to the side to catch your stare and you went back to beaming at him, eyes crinkled.

“I’ll stay with you forever.”

Fuck, you were so cute.

“That’s not really what I meant, baby, but I had no plans on letting you go. What happened tonight?”

You scoffed, arms dropping to your sides as you took a couple of steps back and glared at nothing.

“You wouldn’t freakin’ believe it, babe! Me and my girls,” You gestured to Nancy who was being coddled by Jonathan, Robin who was now scolding Steve, and Eden who was high-fiving Argyle, “were out having fun, getting sloshed—I had so many midori sours, baby, so many and my throw up is gonna be green—when alluvasudden Carol fuckin’ Perkins and her group of raggedy bitches comes up to us.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. He knew just how much you despised Carol. You two hadn’t been exactly friendly back in high school.

“And I’m like ‘oh wow, Carol, I was actually hoping to never fucking see you again.’ But she wasn’t there for me, babe. She was there ‘cause of Robin.” You leaned in to whisper the last sentence to him.

“I din’t even fuckin’ know it—but I should’ve ‘cause like the resemblance is there, isn’t it? Like they look kind of like each other, you know?”

“No, baby. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But Eddie was thoroughly invested in the drama, shifting his position to lean up against the van.

“Oh, yeah!” You laughed, amused that you knew and he didn’t. “Carol is Vickie’s cousin.”

Eddie’s eyes widened comically, sending you into a fit of giggles.

Vickie was Robin’s ex….something. Towards the end of senior year, Vickie had broken up with her long time boyfriend. On the rebound, looking for some attention to prove she was still wanted as most do after a breakup, she’d entertained Robin’s infatuation with her.

They were always together, never affectionate in public, for obvious reasons, though Robin implied they were something. Then, it stopped. Vickie and her boyfriend got back together and she never even gave Robin proper closure, just stopped talking to her, stopped taking her phone calls and obviously avoided her.

It had been an unfortunate situation, the entire group pulled together to cheer Robin up but she got over it, met another girl, and they were an official couple. Girlfriend and girlfriend. She was away for a family thing and Robin couldn’t get the time off, which is why the girls had all gone out for a night to distract her.

“Carol is Vickie’s cousin!?” He whispered back in disbelief, hand flying over his mouth.

“Yeah!”

“So where does the fighting come in—is that blood?!” Eddie nearly had a heart attack as he noticed the red splatter on the front of your shirt. He hadn’t seen it earlier because you’d been glued to him.

You glanced down, taking the hem of your shirt in your hands to flare it out so you could see it better, “Oh, yeah! ‘S not mine, though. ‘S Carol’s. She told Robin people like her weren’t allowed in the bar, so I punched her a couple times and her friends started fighting us but we kicked their asses, baby!”

Eddie stared at you, eyes clouded with adoration and awe.

You’d been dating for a while now, and every single damn day Eddie thought he found another thing he loved about you. Every. Single. Day.

And right then, in that moment, Eddie was finally able to express what he’d been thinking, feeling for the last couple of months. It wasn’t really the things you did that he loved about you. Eddie just loved you.

He needed you to know.

“I am so in love with you,” He breathed out, hands reaching out to latch onto your waist and draw you back into him.

He was about to go on his spew about how you didn’t have to say it back and he just wanted you to know but you caught him by surprise, took the breath right out of him.

“I love you, too, Eds. Can we go home now? I’m hungry.”

Eddie blinked, knees weak.

“Baby, I don’t think you know what I’m sayi—“

“You said you love me and I love you, too. I’m drunk, baby, I can still hear you.” You sagged into him, head craned up to give him those eyes of yours.

“You love me?” He whispered, hand moving to tenderly cup the back of your head.

“Mhm.” You nodded, leaning up on your toes as Eddie met you halfway in a passionate kiss. He was about to tease your mouth open with his tongue when Hopper pushed his way out of the station.

“HEY! KNOCK IT OFF! GO HOME!”

Eddie laughed against your mouth as you pouted before he pulled away and ushered you into the van. Once you were buckled, he headed around to the driver’s side and took note of how meek Steve looked as he got into the driver’s seat of his own car. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think it was Steve who got into trouble with the law, and Robin picking him up from the station.

Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle and Eden were long gone.

You were fiddling with the radio when he hopped in.

“It’s not working,” you frowned, continuing to press buttons.

“Sweetheart, the car’s not on.”

“Oh.”

Eddie loved you so much.

#vivi's baby blurbs #this was a little longer than a baby one but it was so fun to write #eddie munson x reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson fanfic

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strawberryspence · 2 years

Text

OH MY GOOOOOOOOD !!! I LOVE TURMOIL !!!

Eddie calling Steve sweetheart is canon now by the way every fanfic writer uses it. They’re not even dating yet and it’s always, “Steve, sweetheart, please hand me the towel.” or “Sweetheart, did you eat?” or “You’re wrong, sweetheart, it’s this way.”

He only ever calls Steve, Stevie or sweetheart and at first, Steve thinks it’s a joke. Like big boy, you know? Steve’e never had anyone call him pet names, it’s always him calling girls baby or babe. But then it’s three months later, and his hands get clammy and his stomach gets butterflies when Eddie calls him Sweetheart, his voice dipping lower, giving his signature cheeky smile, his dimples dipping with the slope of his smile, brown eyes shining with a glint. Steve realizes he’s in love with Eddie fucking Munson and wants to be his sweetheart.

The longer it goes on, Steve feels more special. The implications of the pet name making his heart grow twice its size. He’s never been anyone’s sweetheart. Yeah, they’re not dating and maybe Eddie doesn’t like him the same way he likes him but Steve is sweetheart to Eddie, no one else and that’s good enough for Steve. Eddie does it so often that by now no one questions it (not even the kids, who was visibly confused the first time Eddie asks them, “Where’s sweetheart?” and even more confused to find out that he was looking for Steve.) and it’s just normal that Eddie calls Steve sweetheart.

Until the whole adult (Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, Argyle) squad goes to The Hide Out to watch Corroded Coffin perform. It’s packed with people, somehow Eddie’s murder allegations brings more people. It’s after the performance and they’re all drinking with Jeff, Gareth and Paul. They’re taking shots, playing drinking games, doing normal teenage stuff in bars.

Eddie’s openly gay with them now, he’s the first to do so in the group to ease Robin in (which makes Steve fall in love with him more). So yeah, it’s normal that after a performance a few boys (even girls) approach Eddie. Steve gets jealous, yes. But he doesn’t begrudge them for it, 1. They’re not dating and 2. Have you fucking seen Eddie? With all that liner, mesh crop top showing lines of scars and tight ass jeans that leaves nothing to the imagination. Don’t even get Steve started with the way his hair is tied up.

But then, one guy is openly flirting with Eddie and Eddie’s smiling and teasing back, and Steve’s heart is suddenly lodged at his throat. Eddie invites the guy to play with them, introducing him as James, and Steve ignores the side glances his friends give him as he excuses himself to get more shots.

They’re all playing having fun, everything was going fine until James takes a shot and it goes through the wrong pipe, he’s coughing loudly and harshly. Steve, because he’s Steve, gets a bottle of water for James, passing it to Eddie, who opens it for James. Everyone’s watching them.

When it finally settles down, “Oh god, that was painful.” James was laughing and Eddie’s laughing with him as he says, “Looks like it, sweetheart.”

It’s not even Steve who reacts first. Not Robin, Not Nancy. It’s Jonathan, he’s halfway through a drink and the glass just slips out his hands, hitting the ground and breaking into pieces as he gasps. Jonathan’s not even looking at the broken glass, just at Eddie. Eddie’s visibly confused, asking him if he’s okay.

When it fully loads to the whole group, Robin’s almost immediately up on her feet, fists first, she’s drunk, but not drunk enough to not think straight, but drunk enough to have the strength of an elephant. It takes Nancy and Argyle to hold her back. She’s screaming incoherent strings of curses. Eddie’s still confused, James looks downright scared.

Steve’s just sitting there. Open mouth, looking at the commotion as it sinks in. Maybe it was him, maybe it was all in his head, maybe he made it all up and maybe he wasn’t that special. Maybe sweetheart was just a name Eddie calls anyone, any guy and Steve was just another guy. Because why would anyone reserve the name sweetheart for Steve fucking Harrington? He's not that special.

He stands up, making Robin pause her rant as Steve holds out his hand to her, “You’re drunk. Let’s go home.” Robin stares at him, their own version of silent conversation before Steve adds, his voice wavering, “Please.” Robin nods, takes his hand, pulling him out of the place without questions.

Eddie’s left there, gobsmacked confused as to what just happened. James excuses himself, maybe because Jonathan’s glaring at the two of them like they’re Vecna.

“What happened?”

Jonathan’s glare intensifies. Nancy’s quietly judging him. Gareth's looking at him like he's the biggest idiot in town. Jeff and Paul are avoiding eye contact.

Argyle's the one who speaks first, "Brochacho, you just called James, sweetheart.”

“So?” Eddie asks. He’s actually confused to what the hell just happened.

“My dude, you only call our beautiful Steve, sweetheart. Sweetheart is Steve. Steve is Sweetheart. Only him. We’re just surprised you called another dude sweetheart. That’s why Buckley’s ready to fight you for Steve’s honor.”

Only then does Eddie realize what he’s done.

Fuck, he’s so screwed.

PART 2

#MWAHHSHAHAHSHSAHHSHA #lemme finish my paper nad ill write a part 2 #steddie #steddie rants #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #daeheadcanons #steddie headcanon #steddie fanfic #steddie fic rec #i love steddie #skittle six #spicy six

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munsonsreputation · 2 months

Text

WATCH THAT SCENE!

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: [2.3k]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, overall fluff!!!

summary: the kids need help learning how to dance for their formal and you're their last resort, but they should've known not to count your suave boyfriend eddie out.

The sun had begun setting in the small town, the burnt twinge of orange and yellow tumbling over the sky where clouds grew drabber and the bright blue following behind. The air was the perfect kind of crisp that blew smoothly against your legs and face, easing the warmth that had developed from the hours of stretches, flips, kicks, and jumps.

All of the others girl had left the parking lot, only leaving you behind, though Chrissy was kind enough to offer you a ride, but you knew Eddie was going to there any minute. And so you beamed when his van came turning into the school zone, the music slowly being turned down as he saw you standing outside the gym already approaching his car.

“How was practice, baby?” He hailed out towards the open passenger window, smiling widely.

You rolled your eyes playfully, opening the door to toss your things into the backseat before settling into the soft velvet cushion beside him. Eddie was already jutting his chin out towards you when you giggled, holding a hand on his cheek to stabilize yourself and pressing your lips together.

He tasted like mint and cigarettes. A combination that you’d never get sick of because despite how much you hated that he smoked those cancer sticks, he always chewed a piece of gum before ever trying to go in for a kiss with you.

“I can’t wait to shower.” You groaned, combing your fingers through your oily hair when he finally started driving away from the school.

Cheer practice was always muggy and gross. Getting tossed in the air time and time again, then proceeding to touch the sweaty mats that everyone practically laid on and touched made you feel icky. It was always routine for you to get into a shower after practice and scrub the living daylights out of your skin.

Eddie looked over at you, cursing under his breath a little at his forgetfulness.

“Shit! Sorry, babe, but Henderson called—he asked if we could swing my Joyce and Hops.”

You shrugged, shaking your head not bothered by the pit-stop since it was always nice to see the kids especially since you were so busy these days.

The only time you really got to see them was if Eddie had a campaign that ran late or on weekends when Eddie was in charge of dropping them off and picking them up.

“It’s fine, as long as I get a shower in the next few hours. Did he say why?”

He shook his head, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “He sounded panicky and annoyed. A lot of voices and music in the background, though.”

“Well, panicky and annoyed, isn’t unusual?” You quipped, and he cackled, switching lanes to take the route.

“We’ll find out in a little bit.”

The Byers-Hopper living room had now been infiltrated by all the younger teens, including the older ones: Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, and Steve. The older four had been called to by Dustin, begging them to come over and show them a few dance moves that they could use for the winter formal.

But bless Dustin Henderson’s heart, because while they might have had a few proms and formals as dance experience, none of them were “experts” at dancing — or at least none met his standards.

For god's sake, even Nancy and Jonathan, who were a couple since forever, looked like a pair of stiff bodies moving back and forth when they tried to demonstrate how to dance when a slow song came on.

And you would think that someone as charming as Steve would have some sort of groove when it came to dancing, but Jesus, no, he looked even more rigid and awkward.

Don’t even get them started on Robin, who bursted out in laughter when she tried to dance with Steve but failed within the first three seconds because she had accidentally stomped on his foot thinking she was leading.

It even came to the point where they confided in Hopper and Joyce who had arrived home from work to their living room furniture pushed against the walls to make room for a makeshift dance floor. A cassette played loudly through the radio and everyone seemed to be a jumbling mess.

Well, the mess became even bigger when Hopper and Joyce tried to show them a move or two, which just ended up with everyone laughing and burying their faces in their hands at the scene. El, Will, and Jonathan cringed more so than laughed, but now they knew their parents were probably the worst dancers than themselves at than alone was a core memory.

That’s when Dustin threw in the towel and decided to make a call to his dear friend Eddie. Eddie who was about to leave his trailer to pick you up from practice so you could get home and shower, then finish the movie you two fell asleep to last night.

But nevertheless, Dustin sounded frantic and desperate, begging for him to bring you over and alas Eddie gave in.

The boy finally saw the van pull into the driveway and shot up from the couch where he had been resting, watching through the window.

“Shut the music off, Steve!” He shouted, stumbling up and towards the front door.

Everyone rose their brows, Steve following Dustin’s instruction and pausing the cassette that El had let them borrow for the day’s impromptu dance party. Before you and Eddie could even knock on the door, it was pulled open.

The scene of everyone staring at the metal head and cheerleader, quite shocking actually—more shocking than the stares in the hallways at school, which were pretty dreadful already.

You side-eyed Eddie suspiciously wondering what he had gotten you both into before looking back at Dustin.

“Hi?” you squeaked suspiciously, twiddling your hand in the air to greet everyone who waved.

The boy smirked, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you inside roughly without a second thought.

“Dustin, what the hell!” You shrieked having no choice but to move with him in order to avoid tripping over your own feet.

Eddie rolled his eyes, stepping inside and shutting the door closed.

“Henderson, you’ve got three seconds to tell me why you’re dragging my girlfriend like a rag doll.”

Dustin apologetically bowed towards Eddie, dropping your arm and gesturing to the open floor.

Everyone else was either leaning up against the wall or sitting down on the couch, trying to get some rest after the young boy practically forced them to keep dancing until they had something, but nothing was good enough for the damn twerp.

“You know how to dance, right?” Dustin stared at you, and you bounced on your heels, nodding your head slightly.

“I mean, cheerleading does require some dancing but—“

Dustin shushed you, causing you to furrow your brows, and looked around dumbfounded at the action. Steve and Robin were already shooting you sorry looks as they muttered something about his tone and needing a smack to the head.

“Henderson, just tell us why we’re here?” Eddie rubbed at his temples.

He plopped on the empty seat next to Max who looked rather peeved at being stuck there all afternoon when she could have been at the arcade playing Dig-Dug.

She turned to him, gesturing in the air with annoyed hands. “Dustin wants us to learn how to dance for this weekend’s formal.”

Lucas pipped in, looking at the crowd before settling on you. “No one knows how to dance except you.”

A small smile grew upon your face, looking around the room at the sullen faces that were offended at Lucas’ words — mostly Hopper and Joyce, because back in their day, they were pretty darn good dancers if they said so themselves.

Eddie sat up from his spot on the couch, shooting a deceitful look at Lucas while gesturing fondly to himself.

“What? You don’t think she’s the only good dancer around here do you?”

Mike grunted, mumbling under his breath, “You sure don’t look like you knew how to command a dance floor.”

Everyone seemed to agree with Mike, which was extremely rare, even for Hopper who didn’t like the kid all that much.

You crossed your arms, shaking your head at the little shitheads and more offended that they thought your boyfriend couldn't dance.

“Hey! Did you forget Eddie is in a band? He practically eats, sleeps, and breathes rhythm.” You reasoned with a tilt of your head, trying to sway them.

Everyone tried to stifle their laughter but failed terribly. I mean could you blame them?

Eddie played metal music, not that pop disco shit that would be playing at the formal, but that’s because they thought wrong about him. They all thought they had your boy all figured out as the stereotypical metal head that couldn’t dance to save his life, but you were about to make them eat their words.

Contrary to popular beliefs, Eddie was quite the dancer, and a good one at that. He knew how to keep up the pace and swoop you off your feet so smoothly you’d think he was a professional in his past life.

You shot Eddie that look, lifting your shoulders with the silent offer as he looked almost coy before nodding at you, scooting off the couch and shaking his arms off getting himself warmed up.

You glanced at Steve, pointing at the stereo, “Hit it!”

Eddie moved across the floor to you effortlessly, hands going for your hips while you draped yours over his neck — you were like magnets easily finding each other. Your feet slid back and forth, one after the other, following Eddie’s lead that flowed with the music.

“How did you guys know Eddie and I love to dance to ABBA?” You called towards your friends who watched in astonishment.

“You can dance?!” they screeched, eyes widening as they all straightened up in their seats and off the walls, watching with the utmost surprise and shock.

You began to giggle as your boyfriend spun you around into his chest, swaying you both while he placed a kiss on your cheek before spinning you back out.

“Just like the songs says, you just gotta feel the beat.” Eddie rose his brow at them, moving your hips in his hands before you shook your head at his playfulness.

“C’mon, we’ll show you.” You told them, pushing at his chest so that you could skip on over towards Dustin, pulling him to the center of the living room with you.

Eddie went for Max, tilting his head for her to follow his lead and not be so nervous.

“It’s really all about keeping the pace and the beat.” He instructed, looking down at their shoes and Max did her best to not step on his sneakers that were already pretty beat up.

“And loosen up,” you chided, nudging Dustin a bit, “relax those shoulders and move those hips.” You instructed, showing him to roll his shoulders back and swirl his lower body as if he was hula-hooping.

After a while, they started to get the hang of it, easily moving across the floors without stepping on each other’s feet and not being so tense.

“Great, now you two try!” You nodded, handing off Dustin towards Max.

It was awkward at first, the both of them laughing as they didn’t know where to put their hands, but quickly it became natural with what you and Eddie had taught, the basics of keeping up with the rhythm and singing along.

You huffed with hands on your hips, looking around the room for your next student, while Eddie had already grabbed Joyce who was a giggly mess.

“C’mon Mr. Hips, I know they don’t call you king Steve for nothing.” You teased, tiptoeing towards your friend and pulling him along with you.

Before you knew it, the living room was a lively dance floor. Bodies grooving along to music without even second guessing if they were doing it right and just having fun with each other as they sung and tried not to bump into the pair beside them.

“Maybe we should open up a studio and start teaching some classes?” You suggested with a grin, resting your chin on Eddie’s chest, staring up at him.

He chucked, pecking at your nose sweetly, “Don’t get ahead of yourself babe, you know my dancing services are limited to you. This was just a special occasion.”

“Do you have any other talents you want to reveal?” Dustin nudged him with his elbow, prompting Eddie to smirk toward him before looking back at you.

“I can do a pretty gnarly lift, exactly like that one in Dirty Dancing.” He bragged, still pretty surprised at himself that he was able to pull it off.

The girls in the room gasped, including Steve, “No way!”

“Yes way,” You bit your lip with a giggle, remembering that one afternoon you and Eddie had spent together trying to get it down after you had watched the movie.

Steve dropped Robin’s hand, wandering over to the stereo and pausing the track before picking it up by the handle and walking towards the front door. Everyone stared at him, waiting until he sighed, one hand on his hip as he looked at you and Eddie.

“You guys need more room than this. We’re moving outside and that lift better be top tier.” He warned towards Eddie, walking out the front door as everyone else followed his lead.

You and Eddie laughed at how ridiculous it all was — surely none of the kids were going to attempt to pull off a lift in the middle of their formal dance, but it was sure gonna be funny watching everyone else have their try at it.

Eddie hoisted you up, prompting you to laugh into the crook of neck, “C’mon baby, I’m about to blow their socks off.” He said, kissing your cheek with an obnoxiously loud smooch before carrying you out the door.

So maybe you didn’t get to go home and get that shower or finish that movie as soon as you would have liked to, but you sure did get to dance that afternoon away with the love of your life and that in itself was a win.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i have been neglecting my beloved eddie for far too long and this has been sitting in my drafts since forever so here ya go!!! yes eddie is a dancer and that is not up for debate -- yeah my man loves his metal music, but the second he hears a good pop tune he's pulling his gf up and they're dancing like no one is watching.

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

#munsonsreputation #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagines #edde munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff

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fantasticallyfruity4 · 1 year

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Famous Eddie decides to start a podcast. The music career rlly slowed down, the guys are all living comfortably on 30 years of roaring success these days to only play festivals for fun and tour if they feel like it. (Jeff even started acting. Who would have guessed it).

This little podcast of his is pretty all over the place. He doesn’t even market it as anything, just him and his family & friends talking shit.

Of corse it’s his and Steve’s podcast. Because they do everything together.

Dustin is a very very regular guest. Probably 9/10th of every episode. He’s fucking Dustin you know? And oh my god are the three of them fucking hilarious.

The rest of the party often makes appearances.

Max and Dustin screaming at each other about the exact details of what song was playing at a hopper-byers family Chanukah part the first time will and Mike kissed, lunging across the table about it while el just has the most wide eyed slacked jawed smile in the corner and Eddie is laughing his heart out, clinging to Steve’s shoulder just mumbling “babe, babe, babe this is- this isn’t happening” while Steve grins and is like “you two have not grown up since I met you in ‘85. You’re fucking unreal”

(It was hounds of love, by the way. Max was right. And she knows this because Kate Bush is the best song writer and singer ever, Dustin. The viewers don’t have to know why Steve’s face dropped for a moment before he agreed vehement. They (El) called Will while on air to ask, and he needed about two minutes to stop laughing before he said “yeah it was hounds of love, duh. That was the year Max got us all hooked on Kate Bush, don’t tell me you somehow forgot that Dustin” “buddy thousands of dollars of therapy and I still can’t forget it”)

There was a few episodes of a hellfire club reunited D&D game, which is of corse also wildly hilarious because it’s this super famous rock band and then Mike and Dustin and Lucas and Will who are just some guys- while the girls™ + Jonathan, Steve and argyle spectate and commentate.

They tried ASMR once. Just Steve and Eddie. It was a disaster.

They got high with Argyle and Jonathan on one episode and that was just… fascinating conversation.

Robins frequent appearances are just so pure and amazing because Steve never laughs as much as he does with ‘Robbie’. She knows exactly how to wind him up.

They’ve played the most volatile game of Uno with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan and Argyle.

They had a little Christmas special with Wayne and Hopper and Joyce. The parents edition. It was very very sweet.

I have so many ideas for this.

They literally talk about anything and everything and do the dumbest shit on mic and camera.

#steddie #future steddie #I want them to live the longest happiest healthiest lives

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jarviscockerssecrethusband · 2 months

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Steve started going to the gym the day after Eddie dumped him.

Technically, the two events were unrelated. Eddie avoided the gym like the plague so it wasn’t like Steve was going out of his way to meet him and they had a 30% membership discount the month of April, so really he was just taking advantage of a good deal.

Honestly, Steve worked out when he was stressed and he really needed that adrenaline hit to stop himself from crawling into the fridge and never coming out again.

He’d gotten up at 6AM, made sure that he looked semi presentable to be out in public and was just settling onto the running machine when the sound of Metallica started blasting from the Pilates room just opposite the regular gym.

After Steve recovered from his almost panic attack thinking that Eddie was actually getting fit, and the confusion at the instructor using fucking Metallica for 6AM Pilates, Steve decided in a bored, sad, slightly horny way, to check out the class.

Well, the instructor definitely wasn’t Eddie.

Eddie didn’t have those muscles.

Eddie didn’t have bleach blonde hair.

Eddie didn’t have a fucking tongue piercing.

Steve quickly decided he was in way over his head and frantically started to back away from the door but it was too late. The guy had already seen him and was gesturing him over.

Fucking shit.

The instructor was called Billy. Which was fun. He’d just moved to Hawkins from Los Angeles (why???????) and he was always up for new students so why didn’t Steve give it a go, he promised the Metallica was just a joke since it never failed to wake everyone up.

Steve was not a Pilates guy. That was all he learned from the hour long session. Well, that and when Billy’s tongue flicked out and did a little corkscrew, he looked like he’d be really good at eating- no Steve. Bad thoughts. No rebound.

Billy clapped a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder on the way out and Steve swore he started developing a semi.

This was not going to work.

He did what he always did when considering bad horny decisions and called Carol. The conversation was short and to the point.

“Babe didn’t Munson dump you literally like yesterday?”

She was popping her gum across the line. It was infuriating. Steve took a deep breath before responding.

“Well yeah but-“

Carol cut him off. She had a habit of doing that.

“Yeah but nothing babe.” Her voice trailed out of his phone like cigarette smoke, dancing across his room. “Either you let me key his dumbass weed van or you give up any dreams you’ve ever had about bouncing on blondie muscleface’s dick. Kay babe?”

Then she hung up.

Steve decided to go to Pilates class every day for the following two weeks. It kind of grew on him. Heather, the assistant instructor was bitchy and fun in a way he liked and her long acrylics reminded him of Carol. He made a mental note to himself to introduce her to Robin.

Things on the Billy side of things had not improved however. They’d gotten significantly worse. He was getting boners in public like a teenager, couldn’t speak in full sentences and his heart started doing that gooey mushy thing, especially when Billy told him he’d done a good job.

It’s a rebound not a crush had become his new mantra. Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly true.

It was definitely a crush. A big one. Even bigger than the ones he’d had on Jonathan or Nancy or Eddie. And it was a problem.

He didn’t do a Clueless and start wearing revealing athletics wear or anything but he did start flirting just a little. To test out if what he thought had been completely made up in his brain or if something was actually happening.

Billy consistently responded with innuendos so intense, they would make Tommy ask him to cool it.

Ok. So Billy seemed to like him back. All Steve needed to do was ask him to dinner or something. No biggie.

He walked into next Mondays class with a mission which was immediately shattered by Billy wearing a signed Corroded Coffin t shirt. And Corroded Coffin was still small as shit, if Billy had it signed, he was friends with Eddie no doubt.

Running out of the class may not have been the most dignified option but it was the only one his dumbass brain could think of at the time.

He ran all the way back to his apartment onto his bed then cried. After half an hour he decided to check his phone only to be faced with a text from a number Steve must have just thought he’d blocked.

Eddie 💖🖤☺️

Can we talk?

Steve messaged back telling him to go away but five seconds later relented and said sure.

The phone started ringing immediately.

“Hey Steve. Why’d you run out of Billy’s Pilates class?”

Steve wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or both. He decided to keep his tone on the cooler side of polite.

“Did he tell you about that?”

There was a long silence for about five minutes before Eddie answered.

“Look Steve……….I know I wasn’t a gentleman when I dumped you. I shouldn’t have just run from the restaurant. That was a dick move. But I really do like Jason and I know for a fact Billy likes you. And you deserve each other. Really.”

Steve sniffled but didn’t answer

“Friends again?” Eddie’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Friends.”

Billy looked slightly frantic the next Pilates class. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a hat with a food stain on it somehow. His face visibly relaxed when he saw Steve.

Billy wasn’t a rebound. He was kind and friendly and opened the door to people who were struggling to get out. His hair was a stupid 80s mullet in 2024, his tattoos were atrocious and Steve thought it might be too soon to say it but he was pretty sure he was in love with him.

Dinner was a good start though, Steve thought as Billy laced their fingers together after the class. Dinner was good.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove ficlet

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stevie-petey · 6 months

Text

episode four: the body

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal. “Hey! Henderson!” “Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you. His unexpected shouting causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you. “Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

summary: you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.

rating: general but plenty of cursing as usual.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 8k

before you swing in: hello ! happy eve of a spending time with loved ones, however ya choose to celebrate or not celebrate and all that jazz. i hope y'all are well and doing okay :) a LOT happens in this chapter, so buckle up. so many feelings and revelations my god. also this chapter is one i really loved writing purely because i got to explore more of steve and reader so ,,, ya welcome ! (hopefully i was able to clear up jonathans thoughts and how he processes, i really want it to come across as someone hurt and overwhelmed rather than just him being cranky lmao). anyways, enjoy !!

It’s a quiet morning.

You roll over, the sunlight streaming through your curtains, and for a moment you forget. It’s a blissful moment, sweet naivety that strokes your cheek and coaxes your eyes open. As you throw your arms over your head and stretch, last night’s events haven’t caught up to you quite yet.

Then you feel Jonathan’s body next to yours and for a moment you’re confused. He never sleeps in your bed whenever he spends the night, being ever the gentleman. No matter how many times you offer, he always insists on respecting your mother’s wishes and sleeping on the giant beanbag chair within your room, and it always makes your heart warm.

Your mother had specifically bought the beanbag for Jonathan when you were thirteen. He had been spending more and more nights at your home, sneaking in through your window to avoid his parents fighting. At first he would simply fall asleep on your carpet, despite your many reassurances that he could sleep in your bed, so when your mom unexpectedly barged into your room one morning and saw him lying face down on the ground, she freaked.

Once you had explained everything to her (with Jonathan’s permission), she had shoved you guys into her car, dropped him off at his house, and then found the beanbag at a garage sale for $10.

“This way, he’ll have a place to sleep that’s soft and cozy, away from my young daughter,” she had said during the drive home. You had covered your face in embarrassment at her implication, but you were also incredibly proud to call her your mom at that moment. She may be overbearing at times, but she was the kindest woman you’ve ever met.

You rub your eyes and glance at the bean bag that sits between your bed and wall, its dusty blue color almost glowing in the early morning light. Then you glance at Jonathan, who has woken up before you, and notice the redness in his eyes and the dark circles now darker than ever.

Then it all comes rushing back to you.

Will’s body in the quarry.

Holding your brother as he mourned his friend.

El, so quiet and shy and sweet, running away after your cruel dismissal.

Jonathan showing up to your window hours later, broken and devastated.

Then, late into the night, the two of you falling asleep, side by side in your bed, both needing each other more than ever before.

The two of you get ready without saying anything. You hand Jonathan some spare clothes of his that you keep in a drawer before giving him some space as you go and take a shower. You spend longer than usual getting ready, but you pay no attention to the clock. There’s no way you’re going to school today. You’re not leaving Jonathan alone for even a second.

Jonathan finishes getting ready before you do and waits in your room. Neither of you have said anything yet, last night being too fresh in your memories, but words aren’t needed between the two of you.

You take his hand and lead him into your kitchen and wordlessly hand him a banana. He stares at you, and you stare back, silently challenging him to decline the food. He needs to eat. You’ve noticed how thin he’s gotten with everything happening.

He sighs, knowing he won’t win this fight, and takes a bite out of the banana in a mocking manner, but you’re just relieved he’s eating.

You grab your own breakfast before writing a note for your mom, informing her that you’ll be with Jonathan today and promising to make up any missed assignments as soon as you can. Then you quietly go into Dustin’s room to check up on him, but his bed is empty. You glance at his alarm clock and note the early hour, he doesn’t normally leave for school for another thirty minutes, which makes you frown.

Where the hell did the kid run off to?

An uneasy feeling settles over you, but you don’t have time to question anything. Knowing Dustin, he ran off to school earlier than usual to see his friends and distract himself from last night. While your mom offered you both to stay home for the rest of the week due to Will’s death, neither of you have ever been good at staying put and dealing with your emotions.

Wherever your brother is, you know he needs his space.

Once everything is settled, you join Jonathan in his car and drive to his place. While he never explicitly asked you to this morning, you know that you’re going to his house with him to help him deal with his mother and the funeral preparations.

He doesn’t have to ask, and you don’t have to tell him that you’ll help.

You both just know.

About halfway to his place, Jonathan finally speaks.

“The cops say that Will crashed his bike and fell into the quarry,”

“Jonathan, we don’t have to talk about it right now-”

“My mom doesn’t believe that he’s dead. She-she insists that he’s in the walls, that he can speak through-through… Christmas lights.”

His voice shakes as he speaks, and you can’t tell if it’s due to grief or anger.

“Will is dead and my mom chooses to believe that there’s some monster in our walls that took him.”

“A monster?” you think about El and her powers and the fear on the boys’ faces when she pulled out the Demogorgon piece. Then you remember the other night at the Byers’ home when Joyce came running outside as the lights were flickering wildly. Her fear had been genuine.

“A fucking monster that’s hiding in our walls. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t listen, Y/N. I tried talking to her, to calm her down, but she just…” His words fade off, and he clenches his jaw as tightens his hands around the steering wheel.

You’re not sure what to say. It’s a tough situation, a fucking heartbreaking one, and it’s all so unfair. Jonathan needs his mom, but his mom needs Will.

You rest your hand behind his head and allow your fingers to rub circles against his skin. He leans into your touch, and for now this is all you can do.

The state of the Byers’ home has only gotten worse since the last time you were there. There’s now letters painted on the wall and string lights placed all throughout the house. There’s also clothes in random corners and trash thrown around.

Jonathan had been staying in this house alone, watching his mother spiral. Your stomach twists with guilt.

You should’ve been there more for him, but instead you allowed your petty need to help everyone distract you from what’s important.

Joyce is passed out on the couch with an ax clutched between her hands, which breaks your heart even more. Jonathan walks over to wake her up and you give the two of them some privacy as you head into the kitchen to make Joyce some breakfast.

Their fridge is barren, but you aren’t surprised. You make do with the few eggs you find and get to work; it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do. As you prepare breakfast, you notice a stack of Will’s drawings on the kitchen table, which causes you to gag with remorse.

There’s still so much of Will within these walls, his entire childhood still locked inside, untouched, and yet the house lacks his presence.

He’s gone.

–

You wait with Hopper in the morgue waiting room, nervously tapping your foot and frantically trying to distract yourself with a comic. The words blur together in your head and the images float around. You can’t focus on anything. For once, Spidey’s quips and banter can’t distract you from reality.

Not only are you incredibly worried for Joyce and Jonathan, but the thought of Will’s body being a wall away from you sends chills down your spine. You can’t imagine what’s happening behind the doors, and you’re secretly relieved that you’ll never know.

“What’s taking so long?” Hopper’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.

You put your comic down and listen, figuring that it’s best if you’re caught up on everything so that you can store away any useful information for later.

The front desk lady sighs. “Well, everything’s been a bit chaotic around here without Gary.”

This catches Hopper’s attention. “Without Gary?”

“I thought you knew. Those men from State, they… they sent Gary home last night.”

Now this catches your attention. Why would the State replace the town’s coroner?

“So who did the autopsy?”

“Someone from State.”

Hopper looks at you, almost as if to ask if you’re also hearing this, and you give him a slight nod. It’s odd, really damn odd.

“Why would they send someone for a little boy?” You ask Hopper, but he only shakes his head in response.

In the back of your mind, you think about what El had warned you of. The bad men, the people she has to hide from… it didn’t make sense at the time, but now…

Your thoughts are cut off as Jonathan runs out the door, his hand over his mouth, and you immediately get up to help him outside. He throws up against the wall outside, and you wince at the smell. You’ve never been good with people getting sick, but Jonathan needs you right now, so you rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up. Once he’s done, you head back inside and wait for Joyce.

You offer Jonathan a tissue before coaxing him to rest his head on your shoulder. Having nothing else to do, yet urgently wanting to help, you begin to read him some panels from your comic. He doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a sign to keep going. Your voice is hoarse from all your crying, but you read aloud anyways.

Hopper watches your interaction with a small interest. You don’t notice his curious eyes and the way they seem to glint with sincerity. In his eyes, the two of you will get together soon enough.

After a couple minutes, Hopper finally asks Jonathan how Joyce is holding up. The boy straightens up, but grabs your hand to steady himself, and responds as best as he can. He explains the lights, the letters on the wall, everything.

“She’s had anxiety problems in the past, but this…? I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath, and you draw reassuring patterns on the back of his hand. “I’m worried it could be… god, I don’t know.”

“She’s grieving,” you remind him, and he nods.

“Yeah, she’s grieving, but she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay; my mom, she’s tough.”

“Like Spider-Man,” you say, though you don’t really mean to. You’re tired and the words just slip out, but Jonathan begins to laugh.

“Yeah, like Spider-Man, you’re right. Thanks, bug.”

“Anytime, bee.”

Jonathan smiles at you, still softly laughing, and it’s then that you realize. He hasn’t laughed in days, he’s hardly even smiled, and yet here he is, smiling at the stupid nickname you gave him and laughing at the stupid joke you didn’t even mean to say; you realize you’d do anything to get him to laugh again, to give you that smile that he’s only ever reserved for you. He squeezes your hand and his eyes shine for a moment with a familiar warmness that has always made you weak.

It hits you like a cold, cruel wave on a harsh winter day.

You’re in love with Jonathan.

Fuck.

It’s horrible timing, and you feel sick with guilt for realizing that you love your best friend merely hours after his brother has died, but now it’s all you can think about.

You love him, you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything before, but you can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, and you don’t have the time.

You’re thankful when Hopper begins to talk again, reiterating that Joyce is tough, so that you have the time to process your newfound feelings.

Then Joyce comes crashing through the door, screaming about how whatever is in the other room isn’t Will, ignoring everyone who tells her to calm down. Both you and Jonathan stand up to calm her down, your comic dropping to the ground in the process, but she doesn’t listen and instead runs outside.

“Mom!” Jonathan follows after her.

You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears before picking up the comic. You know that Jonathan needs to be alone with Joyce right now, give them some privacy, it’s a personal matter. More personal than anything else, and yet you also selfishly don’t want to be near him for a few moments so you can collect yourself as well.

As you’re gathering your things, Hopper clears his throat.

“Do you love him?”

You freeze, having not expected such a personal question. You’ve only just realized your feelings for him, how the hell has Hopper already figured it out? “What does it matter? His brother is dead and his mom is losing it.”

Hopper rubs his hand over his face, giving you a warning look. “But do you love the kid?”

It’s the way he says it, like it means life or death, that has you respond, “I do.”

“Take care of him, then.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it, urging you to understand the weight of his words, and you do.

You’ve heard about how his daughter had died and his wife divorced him soon after. They’d only ever been rumors to you, but now you know that they’re true. He’s telling you to take care of Jonathan, that your love for him means that you have to take care of him in a way that no one else can.

In a way, you suppose that you and Hopper aren’t so different after all, and you gain a new sense of respect for the man.

You swallow deeply and nod at him before excusing yourself to follow after Jonathan and Joyce.

–

The mother and son in question are a few blocks down the street, Joyce waving her son away as he follows her with the car.

You sigh.

This day definitely sucks.

Running up to them is a pain in the ass, honestly. You get that you gave them some privacy, but damn. Did Jonathan seriously have to take the car as well?

When you finally catch up, he’s parking. “Hey, what are you-”

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he turns the engine off and runs after his mom.

“Seriously?” You groan, clutching at a stitch in your side from running. Usually you’re a great runner, actually choosing to go for a run whenever you’re particularly stressed out or anxious. However with the shitshow that this week has been, you haven’t gone on your morning run in a while and you’re starting to feel the effects of being out of practice.

Joyce, being surprisingly fast, is hard to catch up with, but you do your best as Jonathan sprints ahead of you. When he finally reaches her, he grabs at her jacket with a determined look in his eyes.

You hang back, now regretting the fact that you left the coroner’s office in the first place.

“Mom, stop!”

“Just go home, Jonathan.”

“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.”

“Shut down… what-” The confusion in Joyce’s eyes is enough to make you feel Jonathan’s frustration as well. You feel for the woman, you really do, but she has another son to worry about. Jonathan is still here, he’s lost his own baby brother, he needs his mom now more than ever.

But Joyce, too lost in her own grief and desperation, can’t see that.

“We have to deal with this, mom. We have to deal with the funeral!” You’ve never heard Jonathan raise his voice at his mom before, but after days of begging for her attention, you’re proud of him for defending himself.

The word “funeral” seems to snap Joyce out of her daze and once again she goes on her tangent about how Will’s body isn’t really back at the morgue, that he’s still alive, and Jonathan’s anger in his voice makes you ache.

As he and his mom continue to yell at one another, a few nosy people in the town area stand and watch. They whisper to each other, no doubt about how Will’s death has made Joyce Byers crazy, and you kick a few rocks at them.

“Fuck off! At least pretend that you aren’t a bunch of nosy assholes like most decent people do.” A woman sneers at you, but you wave your arms above your head, “Oh! Scary! Get fucked!”

Eventually they do as they’re told and walk away from the screaming mother and son, which pleases you.

You really hope that random lady wasn’t a patron of Bookstrordinary though.

“Yeah, well, while you’re talking to the lights, Y/N and I will be planning a funeral for Will!” Jonathan’s voice is laced with bitterness as he screams at his mother, breaking your heart even more. “I’m not letting him sit in that freezer another day!”

Joyce storms off, but you notice that her shoulders shake with tears as she leaves.

It’s such a devastating situation, and while you’re also frustrated with the way she’s been treating Jonathan, you also know that maybe her craziness isn’t exactly “crazy”. El is still out there, even if you’re not sure where, and you think about how she was able to control the comic book and the game pieces. The static electricity you felt in the air when she used her powers, the same static you felt at the Byers’ home a few nights ago when Joyce came running outside with the lights flashing and Will’s song playing on the radio.

But then you think about how El promised that Will was alive.

He isn’t; you see his dead body every time you close your eyes.

So really, what is there to believe?

Lost in thought, you don’t notice Jonathan walking towards you until he grasps at your arm and flings you along back to the car with him. He’s breathing heavily and you notice that he’s shaking. He’s in no condition to drive.

As you near the car you quickly reach around and grab his keys from his pocket before running over to the driver’s side and throwing yourself into the seat. Jonathan hates when you drive the car, not because you’re a bad driver, but because some part of him truly believes it’s impolite to make a girl drive.

As cute as you think his chivalry is, today you couldn’t give more of a damn.

Jonathan stands outside your door. “Y/N-”

“Nope, no time to argue, Byers. Get in.”

“But-”

“In.”

He does as he’s told, albeit with some attitude, but eventually the two of you are off. Without having to ask, you drive to the local funeral home. While you and Jonathan are similar in many ways, the one thing that pulls you together is planning. You both cling onto the stability that planning provides, and right now Jonathan is clinging onto his responsibilities for Will’s funeral.

Like he told his mom earlier, you and him have a funeral to plan.

The funeral home is closer to the edge of Hawkins, so the drive is a longer one. Along the way Jonathan slowly begins to calm down, untensing his shoulders and releasing his clenched jaw. You let him take all the time he needs, thankful that for now you have some time to yourself to reflect over today’s revelation.

You love Jonathan.

Those three words are heavy within your chest, and you almost don’t want to think about them, but you know that sooner or later you’ll have to. You glance at Jonathan, the late fall sun casts a warm glow on his face that for a brief moment brings back the boy you knew only a week ago, before everything changed. Then he turns to face you and you see the red in his eyes, his cheeks sunken in, and you know that you don’t have the time to unravel whatever you feel for him.

He needs his best friend right now.

Jonathan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. “Can we talk about yesterday?”

You cast him a quick glance. “Yesterday?”

“Our… our fight, I guess.”

“Oh,” you shift your hands on the steering wheel, now suddenly painfully aware of the silence within the car. “We don’t have to right now, bee. We should be focusing on the funeral arrangements.”

Your voice catches on the word “funeral”, it still hasn’t sunk in yet that Will is really gone.

“Bug, for the past eighteen hours all I’ve been thinking about is Will,” he takes a shaky breath and you gently place a hand on his, encouraging him to keep talking, “but when I’m not thinking about him… I’m thinking about you and what-what you said yesterday.”

“I said a lot yesterday-”

Jonathan gives you a pleading look. “Please just let me get this out, okay?”

You purse your lips but remain silent.

“I will never, ever deserve you. This week and my actions have proven that. This isn’t some pathetic attempt to make you pity me, I was an asshole to you and I recognize that. You love people in a way that terrifies me, Y/N. You’re my best friend and I think I would actually die if I ever lost you.”

A snort escapes your lips, “you probably would.”

“I definitely would, but this isn’t about me. I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been treating you lately and the fact that you’re driving me to a funeral home after watching my mom have a meltdown in the town square without even batting an eye is all the more proof that you’re too good for me.”

“I wouldn’t say too good, but yeah. Close enough.”

“It’s more than enough, bug. That’s what terrifies me: I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you’ve done for me, even before Will disappeared; you’ve been taking care of me since we were twelve.”

His words hang in the air as you allow them to wash over you. There’s so much you want to disagree with, namely the fact that he doesn't deserve you, but you know that he wouldn’t want to hear your arguments.

Again you think about how similar the two of you are, and while you both give your all to the people that you love, your love comes freely while Jonathan has grown up believing that it comes with conditions. It’s never been a problem in your relationship until now, but you guess with how much you’ve been overcompensating for everything, the need to return it all has caught up with him.

Finally, you speak. “You feel that you can’t accept my help because I’ve already done enough for you. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan takes a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, especially because I’m asking for your help right now with the funeral preparations, but…”

“I understand, but we’ll get through it,” you pull into the funeral home parking lot and turn the car off. “We always do, right?”

“Right,” Jonathan’s smile is a weak one, but you accept it nonetheless.

“Now, you ready to go look at children’s coffins like real men and women do?”

He laughs at your poor attempt at a joke, but even he can admit that objectively the entire situation is morbid. “Only real best friends go coffin shopping together.”

“My thoughts exactly, good sir.” Then, before you forget, you reach over and whack Jonathan’s head with the back of your hand.

“Ow! What was that for?”

You shrug your shoulders, “ask Nancy.”

And with that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and head into the funeral home, trusting that Jonathan will follow eventually enough. Things aren’t exactly the same between the two of you, especially with your newfound feelings for him, but it’s a start.

“I deserved that,” you hear Jonathan grumble, which makes you smile.

You’ll take whatever you can get.

–

You spot Nancy before Jonathan does.

It wasn’t intentional, really, but the funeral home director was droning on and on about the different wood selections for coffins and finishes that you can customize and it all makes you want to throw up; the coffins before you are so small, you weren't really paying attention in the first place.

She stands in the doorway and motions for you to get Jonathan’s attention, who is deeply focused on everything the old man is saying. A part of you wants to ignore the girl, but the scared look on her face tells you that this is something serious.

You nudge your shoulder against Jonathan’s and point at Nancy; he excuses the two of you as you walk towards her.

Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, a bit guarded. “Hey,”

“Hey, your mom, um… said you’d be here.”

“You talked to Mrs. Byers?” You ask, feeling a sudden possessiveness over the woman. Sure, you were kind of okay sharing Jonathan with Nancy so long as she was with Harrington, but Joyce? She’s like a second mother to you.

It made you uneasy that Joyce even talked to her in the first place.

Nancy tilts her head at you. “Yeah, it was only for a brief moment though. She seemed pretty… distracted.”

“No shit. Her son died, Nancy.”

The girl flinches a bit at your tone, which causes Jonathan to yank at your sleeve and shove you behind him. “Ignore her, we’ve had… Well, it’s been a long day.”

You feel your shoulders drop and unclench your fists. “Sorry, is everything okay? Is it the boys?”

“No, they’re fine, I just,” Nancy’s eyes shoot towards you, uncertain, before directing them towards Jonathan. “Can we talk for a second?”

The photos Nancy shows you makes your blood run cold. They start with Barb sitting alone by the pool, but slowly she pulls out more and more pieces of the torn picture to create a terrifying image with a shadow-like figure looming over her friend.

Jonathan tries to sum the shadow up to lens distortion, but you know that he’s wrong. Nancy asks more questions, trying to figure out exactly what has happened to Barb, but all you can think about is El.

You check the time on your watch and curse. It’s late afternoon now, you’ve been gone with Jonathan since early this morning. Dustin hadn’t been in his room when you left and you stupidly assumed that he’d gone off to school. Now, seeing the picture of Barb and that thing… Something is so goddamn wrong.

“The cops think that she ran away,” Nancy says.

“Just like they did with Will,” you’re whispering more to yourself than to them, but Jonathan hears you anyway.

“Maybe she did run away-”

Nancy shakes her head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. They don’t know Barb. When I went back to Steve’s… I thought I saw something.”

Your head shoots up. “Nancy, what did you see?”

“Some weird man,” the urgence in your voice confuses the girl, but you silently push her to keep talking, “or… I don’t know what it was.”

Both you and Jonathan are quiet afterwards for very different reasons.

He’s quiet because he probably thinks Nancy is crazy, just like his mom.

You’re quiet because you’re currently afraid you’ve accidentally left your idiotic brother and his friends and El alone with very real monsters and possible bad men. The figure Nancy saw… El being terrified of bad people finding and hurting her…

Well shit.

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have come here today-”

You stop Nancy from leaving. “No, you should stay… I think,” you look at Jonathan, nervous for how he may react to what you’re about to say. “I think I might have an idea of what you saw last night. A lot has happened since Will disappeared, things that I’m still trying to understand, but I think I know where to start finding an explanation.”

Jonathan turns to you. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Technically I did try telling you a few nights ago but then you yelled at me and threw a jacket at my face-”

“You threw a jacket at Y/N?” Nancy asks, which you and Jonathan ignore.

“But for now I can’t tell you anything else. I made a promise, and I’m not sure I’m right or even sane for considering it an explanation, but we need to leave. Now.”

“A promise? To who?” There’s an edge of hurt in Jonathan’s voice and you desperately wish you could explain more to him, but now isn’t the time. Not with Nancy sitting between you two and her own brother involved. You don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry for her; right now she needs to focus on Barb. You’ll wrangle in the boys, it’s your fault they’re even alone right now with El.

“I can’t exactly say who, but just trust me, okay? Again: I really hope I’m just insane and worried about nothing and that this will all be an embarrassing laugh for us later.”

“Y/N-”

“Jonathan, we need to go.”

“‘We’?” Nancy now speaks up, seemingly fed up by your vague exchange with Jonathan.

You try to collect yourself and pretend like you have some amazing plan. “Yes, we. Jonathan will take you to the photo developing room at school and see if you can make the pictures clearer. On the way there, he’ll drop me off at home so I can grab my bike and head out.”

“And what will you be doing?” The boy asks.

“Tracking down my brother, unfortunately.”

He gives you a doubtful look. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to just let you run off on your own without more of an explanation.”

You know he’s right, but you just… you can’t tell him about El and the bad men yet. You can’t. Not until you know for sure what the hell is happening.

“I’m sure it’s nothing… but just in case, I really need to find Dustin, okay?”

I’m a really, really bad babysitter, you think.

Jonathan opens his mouth again as if to argue, but you hold your hand up to silence him. You really don’t want to waste time fighting with him. He has to trust you on this, whether he likes it or not.

He sighs with defeat, “Just be safe, please.”

You also really don’t want to put anyone else in danger. It’s bad enough that you allowed the boys to get dragged into this mess, but you refuse to drag your best friend in as well. But really, who knows? Maybe you’re just a regular idiot who believes in fairy tales and monsters, not some idiot who leaves three overly naive boys alone with a girl with superpowers.

God you hope you’re just a regular idiot.

However, if Joyce believes that Will is alive, even without the knowledge of El and her powers, then you’re sure that the boys also believe he’s alive and will inevitably go looking for him again. Alone. In the same woods Nancy saw that strange figure.

You cast those thoughts out of your head and give Jonathan what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When am I not safe?”

You really, truly hope that you’re just an idiot, but if the photos that you just saw scare you. Before he can change his mind, you quickly reach over and snatch Jonathan’s keys from his jacket and give him a peck on the cheek before running out to his car.

“I call shotgun, Nancy!”

–

Unsurprisingly, the drive with Nancy and Jonathan is an awkward one. Things are still a bit tense between you and him for reasons you’re not sure you can tell him about just yet, and now Nancy is in the backseat trying not to make any sound, so really it was a doomed car ride from the start.

It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but there’s something about the way she acts around Jonathan that honestly makes you want to collapse. You know she’s with Harrington, but the tenderness Jonathan has shown her the few times they’ve interacted makes you uneasy.

Yesterday you chalked the uneasiness to simply never sharing Jonathan before, but now you know the truth.

You’re jealous because you’re in love with him.

It’s a nauseating feeling.

“So, how long have the two of you been friends?” Nancy’s question surprises you, mostly because she should already know the answer. You know she’s just trying to make conversation, but the question itself further reminds you of why the two of you had drifted apart in the first place.

“I moved here when I was twelve, remember? Your family helped us move in.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” You see Nancy nervously playing with her fingers in the rearview mirror, which makes you feel bad. She’s trying, you know she is.

“It’s fine,” you try to catch her eye, and when you do you give her a smile. “I know you probably don’t remember much from that day. It was the middle of the school year and our brothers immediately started being annoying together, so you had gone inside after only a couple minutes.”

Nancy laughs, now remembering that day. “Didn’t Mike hold an initiation for Dustin that night?”

“Yeah,” you laugh with her now. “That’s actually how Jonathan and I met. Remember, bee?”

Jonathan’s smile is a soft one, a smile that makes you feel weak because you know you’re the reason it’s there. “Of course I do. We both showed up at the Wheeler’s house at the same time to pick up our brothers.”

“And then-”

“I answered the door.” Nancy finishes for you.

“Yup. Ever since then, Jonathan hasn’t been able to get rid of me.”

“It’s been horrible,” he says with a monotone voice, but it’s clear to everyone that he’s joking.

You punch his shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I saved you from those bullies later that week.”

Jonathan gives you a pointed look and tries to subtly motion towards Nancy, clearly embarrassed that you've brought the bullies up in front of her. Like he wants her to think he’s someone cooler than he really is.

Your smile vanishes.

He wants to impress her.

“Right, sorry,” you clear your throat and if Nancy notices your sudden mood change, she doesn’t say anything. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and remind yourself that what matters right now are the boys and El. They should be your priority, not petty boy drama.

Luckily Jonathan pulls into your driveway not long after the abrupt conversation ending, which you’re thankful for.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face Nancy, and it takes everything in you to force a smile on your face. “Alright, well, this is my stop! Nancy, I’m trusting you to tell me whatever you and Jonathan find. I’d ask him to keep me updated, but I know he’ll inevitably forget.”

The girl nods at you. “You can trust me.”

Can I?

Although you’re not exactly sure what it is that you don’t think you can trust her with. Then, your eyes drift to Jonathan and the way he’s staring at her from his own mirror, and you realize that maybe she’s not the one you should be worried about.

“Good,” you turn to Jonathan now. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“And I’ll answer… probably.”

“You’re so sweet to me.”

“I know, right?”

You snort at the boy and wave goodbye to him and Nancy before getting out of the car. Your bike is in the shed, so you motion to Jonathan that he’s good to leave. When he’s sure you’re okay, he waves at you one last time and drives away.

It feels like you’ve made a huge mistake as you watch Jonathan and Nancy leave, but you don’t have time to think about why. Dustin’s bike isn’t in the shed alongside yours, which you expected, and you have to find him.

Your brother and his idiotic friends need you right now.

–

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.

“Henderson!”

“Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.

His unexpected shouting from the other side of the road causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.

“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

You glare at the boy. “You are a man, I am a woman. It’s getting dark outside. What exactly made you think it’s a good idea to yell out at me?”

“Well, I mean, I called after you.” He says, so matter of factly that it makes you want to strangle him.

You hate him. You really do.

A strand of hair has fallen in your face, so you blow it away before bothering to answer. “My apologies, you called after me and almost killed me in the process.”

Steve winks at you. “Apology accepted.”

You stare at him, unamused and still in the middle of the damn road, and after a couple beats of silence you cock your head at the boy. “Are you going to tell me what you need or…?”

“Oh,” Steve coughs, as if startled by your question. “Honestly I didn’t really have a plan when I called after you. I just kinda did, so…”

“Right, well.” You clench your jaw in annoyance. Why are you even surprised that Harrington has wasted your time? “This was fun, let’s never do it again sometime!”

You ride off on your bike, trying to quickly get up the hill so that you can get to the Wheeler’s before it gets too dark to see. The hill is brutal and it’s almost embarrassing how long it’s taking you to get up it, and as you’re huffing and dripping in sweat, headlights come up from behind you.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan.

Steve’s car is now right next to you, the fucker having done a complete u-turn to follow after you. His window is still rolled down and he has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out his window.

“Hello again, Henderson.”

“I never said hello back to you.”

“C’mon, at least pretend to be happy to see me.”

You let out another groan as you continue to struggle up the hill. “I physically cannot do that, sorry.”

Steve, ever the comedian, responds, “It doesn’t seem like you can physically get up this hill either.”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of laughing, but you’re a bit annoyed that his quip was funny. What a jackass, honestly.

“Henderson,” your silence doesn’t deter the boy, “just get in the damn car already.”

Once again you almost crash into the BMW, this time because of your complete shock at his request.

“What?”

He gives you a look as if you’re the insane one in this situation. “You’re sweatier than I am after basketball, and at the rate you’re going I’d say you’ll reach your destination in about three to five business days.”

You stare at him, speechless.

He stares back at you with a smirk on his smug little face, knowing that he’s won the argument. “Get in the car and I’ll throw your bike in the back.”

You do as he says, your mind completely blank and still taken aback. Sweatier than him after basketball? There’s no way that’s true, and also who says that to someone they barely even know? As if you’re really that sweaty-

You see your reflection in his car mirror and wince.

Okay, so maybe you’re a little sweaty.

Fuck Steve Harrington.

The boy in question tosses your bike in the trunk as you hesitantly get in the car. He watches as you sit yourself down and laughs. “It’s a car, Henderson. It won’t bite.”

“Yeah, but you might.” You slap a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the implications of your words.

Steve raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the car back on. “Careful there, last I checked you’re a taken lady.”

The embarrassment you previously felt is gone, now replaced with your usual annoyance when it comes to Steve. You think about what he did yesterday to Jonathan’s camera, the cruelty in his eyes as he watched the thing shatter onto the ground. He didn’t show any remorse, and while you understand that he had been defending his girlfriend, he had taken it too far.

“How many times do I have to tell you that Jonathan and I are just friends?”

“Please,” Steve huffs with amusement, “the two of you have been inseparable for years. Besides, no way a guy like Byers can just be friends with a girl like you. Not scientifically possible.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What’s ‘a girl like you’ supposed to mean?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Also, you didn’t even know my name until this week, so don’t go acting like you know my relationship with Jonathan.”

“Relax, Henderson. It was a compliment. All I meant is that you’re decently pretty, all things considered, so I wouldn’t blame Byers if he was in love with you. It’s human nature.”

“Okay, that’s just really sexist-”

“As for knowing your name only this week, you’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused.

Steve places a hand over his chest, almost as if he’s reaching for his heart. “Apology accepted, it means a lot to me.”

“Ugh,” you scoff at him. “That wasn’t an apology and you know it. Can you just take me to the Wheeler’s, please?”

“Woah, slow down there. First I need you to tell me why you thought I didn’t know your name, then I’ll take you to my girlfriend’s house. Free of charge.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you see some offense in Steve’s eyes for thinking he only recently learned your name, but why would he care? Besides, you know he’s never paid any attention to you before this week.

“It was literally this week that I had to tell you my name after you almost hit me with your car, Harrington.”

“Okay, hey,” the boy holds a finger up. “Actually, you almost hit me with your bike because you were too busy hysterically sobbing.”

He’s right, but you won’t tell him that. Minor details, honestly. You’re about to tell him as much before you realize what he’s said. “Wait, you knew I had been crying?”

Steve gives you a well, duh look. “Yeah, that’s why I pretended not to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And viola, I did.”

He had willingly tried to make you laugh?

His words make you flush, which seems to only amuse him further as he chuckles at you. You wave your hand at him, now more annoyed than ever. “Okay, fine. Whatever, so you knew my name before this week, big whoop. Can you just drive now?”

“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m sorry Steve for assuming you’re an asshole who hadn’t noticed a girl you’ve known since you were thirteen’, then.” Steve takes the car out of park and begins to drive to the Wheeler’s which you’re relieved by.

You feel uncomfortably warm after that conversation, regardless of the fact that you’re still overheated from your biking. There’s no way that Steve has seriously known about you since you were twelve and he was thirteen. No, you decide that he must be lying, playing up his usual boyish charm. He’s been this untouchable entity ever since you moved to Hawkins, so why would he have paid any attention to you?

Then your mind floats to his compliment, calling you “decently pretty”, but then again not even five minutes earlier he stated that you sweat more than he does after basketball, so really his words should mean nothing.

And yet, after the week you’ve had and your fight with Jonathan and Will’s death and El’s mysterious powers…

Steve’s words make you a bit giddy, embarrassingly enough. You hate that they do, because he’s Steve Harrington and he’s with Nancy who is beautiful and kind and everything you’re not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you.

You pick at your nails as he drives, the car silent, and you accidentally graze against the cut on your finger from yesterday. It’s scabbed over by now, but the pain is still fresh.

“I know that what Jonathan did was wrong, I won’t excuse his actions. Standing up for Nancy was the right thing to do and I admire you for it, really,” Steve spares you a glance as he drives, nodding his head slightly to indicate that he’s listening. “But breaking Jonathan’s camera wasn’t.”

He groans. “Nancy said the same thing, but what’s the big deal? The creep shouldn’t have access to a camera if he can’t use it properly.”

The slight warmth that Steve had somehow put in your chest dissipates at his words. “Jonathan isn’t a creep, but regardless of the situation, the big deal is this: not everyone can afford a fancy BMW and Raybans. Not everyone in Hawkins lives in a giant mansion with a pool. He worked so hard to afford that camera, it’s not something that he can just buy again on a whim.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Henderson, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I know, but it was still a shitty thing to do.”

The silence that settles in the car is a heavy one, and you almost feel bad for Steve. You know he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you suppose that the fact that he hadn’t considered the price of a camera was proof enough of his naivety.

When you get to the Wheeler’s, Steve gets out of the car to help you with your bike. He doesn’t let you do a thing, so you stand there and awkwardly watch. You can tell that he’s trying to make up for his actions from yesterday, which you appreciate.

“Thank you,” you say once he places the bike down.

“All in a day’s work.” Steve responds, wiping his hands off on his jeans.

As he turns to leave, you stop him. “And thank you for earlier this week, ya know, for making me laugh after falling off my bike. I, uh, appreciate it.”

He seems surprised by your sincerity, but he smiles. “Again: all in a day’s work. And listen, I’m sorry about Byers’ camera,” Then he quickly adds, as if afraid he won’t have the nerve to later, “I’m sorry about Will, too. I figure you were close with him and now he’s…”

His words trail off, not wanting to say the word “dead”, which you can’t blame him for.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Steve turns to face you now, your words catching his undivided attention. “You just have the worst taste in friends, but when you aren’t around them… I guess you’re alright.”

He laughs a bit, but there’s a certain emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite name; you have to stop yourself from leaning in closer to him. Suddenly the space between you feels too close and you take a step back, but as you move you feel Steve’s hand ruffle your hair. “I guess you’re ‘alright’ too, Henderson.”

You watch as he leaves, standing in the Wheeler’s driveway for longer than necessary. You place your hand on your head and find yourself smiling, the warmth of his touch still faintly there.

⌑ series masterlist

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #hey what happens in this chapter ? everything #the answer is everything

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 year

Text

Eddie's not sure how to show how grateful he is that Steve carried him out of hell until he noticed that Steve didn't really get hugged a lot, he's more the one to give out the hugs. He brought it up to Dustin.

"Yeah, I don't think his parents hugged him enough, so him getting hugged is just not something he's used to," Dustin said. "He gives them out though when he feels we need it."

Eddie frowned, and he was determined to change that. One day, he arrived at Steve's house, and he held out his arms.

"Steve, can I give you a hug?" Eddie asked.

"Sure," Steve said nervously.

Eddie wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. He placed a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it gently to calm him down. Steve placed his hands tentatively on his back.

"It's okay, Steve," Eddie said. "Just relax, I'm not gonna hurt you."

"I know," Steve said and buried his head into his neck, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. "Can we just stay like this for a while?"

"Oh, so you do like hugs, huh, sweet boy?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, a little too much. I just don't want to come off as clingy," Steve said.

"Oh, sweet boy, you can be as clingy with me as much as you want. I'm very clingy myself," Eddie said.

"I can?" Steve asked.

"Yeah."

Eddie nuzzled his neck, and Steve laughed. He picked Eddie up and twirled him around, causing Eddie to giggle. After that, Eddie didn't even have to ask after that. He just hugged him. Of course, they always hugged each other for a really long time. Even after Robin had called them out on it.

"What? Are one of you guys going off to war? Are you sniffing each other's necks? What's happening here?" Robin asked.

They, of course, ignored Robin. The hugs escalated to cuddling and leaning against each other. There have been many times when either Steve or Eddie would pick each other up from behind, twirling them around. Sometimes, Steve would come up behind Eddie, slip his arms around his waist, and pull Eddie against him. It also escalated to them sitting in each other's lap. It was starting to get a little colder now, and the older teens were hanging out at Steve's place.

Argyle, Jonathan, and Nancy were out back, enjoying the nice cool air. Eddie, Robin, Vickie, and Eddie came out to join them. Eddie plopped down on one of the lawn chairs while Vickie and Robin shared one.

"Eddie, man, what's with the big jacket?" Argyle asked.

"You'll see," Robin rolled her eyes.

Steve walked over to Eddie and laid his back against Eddie's chest, his head tucked under Eddie's chin. Eddie wrapped the jacket around him and buttoned it to Steve’s chin.

"My sweet boy gets real cold," Eddie said.

"And my gremlin man likes to keep me nice and warm," Steve cooed as Eddie hugged him tightly.

"Aww, man, you guys are fucking cute," Argyle said. "How long have you guys been dating?"

"We're not dating," Eddie and Steve said in unison.

"What?!"

"What do you mean you're not dating?!" Robin asked.

"Babe, why are you surprised?" Vickie asked. "Shouldn't you know?"

"Why the hell aren't you dating?!" Robin exclaimed.

"He doesn't like me like that," Steve and Eddie said. "Wait. . .do you . . . Yes."

Steve unbuttoned the jacket and sat up. Eddie cupped his face.

"Steve Harrington. . .fucking date me?" Eddie asked and Steve kissed him.

"Aww!"

Steve blushed, laid back down, and put his face into Eddie's neck. Eddie wrapped the jacket around him, buttoning it back up.

"My sweet boy. . ."

#stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction

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farfaras · 1 year

Text

I think I got an ex but I forgot him

Part 1.

Part 2. (You’re here!)

Part 3.

They came up with ground rules, boundaries were important and whatnot. However, they didn’t plan on doing this for long, so they also had to come up with a believable storyline for the future course of the relationship.

This is what they have so far:

Only Dustin knew, it would stay that way. For now.

Hugs and holding hands was okay.

Pet names that were allowed included: babe, baby, honey… and that’s about it.

This will last only one or two months to really sell it.

No kisses required.

As for the storyline. That was a little bit harder to come up with. Obviously the timeline was a no brainer. They got together two weeks after Jonathan and Nancy broke up. Jonathan tried to protest. “That makes me look bad.” “Yeah well, you dating me overall makes you look bad.” “Makes you look weird, then.” “Whatever.” But they didn’t have too many options, it was that or the literal last week. And call them paranoid, but Steve thinks Dustin would see through that.

When that was out of the way, they planned the way their (fake) relationship would go wrong. “Maybe I realized I was a rebound.” “Do you want Dustin to hate me?”

At the end, what they agreed on wasn’t even that far off. They came up with phases they had to complete. Hopefully they would be able to showcase that Jonathan started dating Steve because he was supposedly just lonely and needed someone, he didn’t realize what he was doing and didn’t mean to hurt Steve. They would say they talked it out and decided to stay friends because that would be for the best. No hard feelings.

Phase one. Jonathan being an attentive and affectionate boyfriend. Steve gushing about it to Dustin.

Phase two. Jonathan spends less time with Steve. Steve starts saying he misses him now and again.

Phase three. Jonathan acts distant. Steve is freaking out.

Phase four and final. Jonathan realizes his mistake and ends things.

It was almost foolproof! And they only had to really fake in front of one person, so it shouldn’t be that hard. Steve didn’t want Jonathan to come out just because Steve needed a favor. This seemed like the best way to do it.

They were hanging out in Jonathan’s room, everything was set and all they needed to do now was act like a couple in front of Dustin and stand a little closer when they were in bigger groups if Dustin was there.

Easy.

But for another day. All they wanted to do right now was just chill.

Steve heard someone knocking on the front door. It was incessant and loud. They wanted to have a chill night but whoever was there, was starting to get annoying.

“Aren’t you gonna…?” Steve pointed to the direction the sound was coming from. “Are you gonna get the door? Are you expecting someone?”

“Nah, ‘s probably a salesman or something. They’re annoying but they’ll be gone soon.” Jonathan muttered, and he really didn’t seem at all bothered by the persisting knocking.

They heard Will come out of his room. “Seriously!” Teenage irritation and disdain. Classic. Looks like he’s gonna get the door.

As soon as the door opened, they heard a familiar voice. What was Dustin doing here?! Was he here to ask Jonathan about Steve? If that’s the case thank god Steve got to Jonathan before Dustin. This kid is something else.

“Is Jonathan here?”

“Wha- he’s in his room. Why?”

“I need to talk to him for a bit. Alone.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Just- I’ll go to your room later.”

Oh Dustin really is here to talk to Jonathan.

Steve jumped in the bed and turned to Jonathan. “Quick. Cuddle me.”

Confusion was all over Jon’s face. “Huh?”

“Dustin is coming, just do it!” He whispered.

“Ugh. Harrington.” Complained Jon.

“That’s babe to you. And you said hugs were fine. Cuddles are just long hugs, come on.” Steve laid in the bed next to Jonathan.

Jonathan turned him so he could spoon him. Steve has never been the little spoon before, but it was kinda nice. They were settling when they heard a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Asked Jon.

“Dustin, can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.”

When he opened the door his eyes looked like saucers. “Oh my god, it’s true.”

Steve just raised an eyebrow at his antics. He closed the door and sat down in the chair by the desk. “You guys are actually dating.” Dustin whispered-yelled.

“What? You didn’t believe me?”

“I’m a scientist! I need proof to believe stuff!”

Steve and Jonathan got up and sat down by the edge of the bed. They were pressed together, thighs and shoulders touching. Jonathan took his hand and laced their fingers together. “You don’t have a problem with it, do you?” Jonathan asked. He’s a better actor than he thought, he looks protective. Although this is another coming out for him, Steve thinks he’s handling it really well.

“No, no! I already told Steve I don’t care. I just kinda had to confirm it because… well I kinda want to talk about something.” Suddenly Dustin looked wary, hesitant to continue.

“Okay?” This was unexpected. Both Dustin being here and the imminent serious conversation he wanted to have based on his expression alone.

The teen took a deep breath. “First of all I wanted to ask you guys something.” He looked at them expectantly, as if asking for permission to continue. Which was so bizarre because this kid says everything and anything that goes through his mind. Steve nodded. “Are you planning on, you know, telling our friends? The party?” Why would he want to know that?

“Um.” Steve glanced at his fake boyfriend. “No, not really. At least not for a while” Jonathan just nodded at what he said.

“I think you should do it.”

“Huh?” Jonathan paled. Steve understood, that was a big thing. And sure Dustin didn’t seem to be taking it lightly but he still doesn’t understand what something like that can feel like.

“Dustin, I don’t think you get to have an opinion on that.” Steve tried to sound firm.

“No, I know just. I think it might be a good thing. Listen, maybe you’re aware of this or maybe you aren’t.” Dustin leaned in as if he was gonna share a secret. “Someone in our party is having a hard time with their… sexuality. At least I think so. I think seeing a happy gay couple could be good for them. To show that there’s hope or some shit.” He was almost eloquent, if it wasn’t for that slip at the end.

The supposed couple looked at each other, processing what the younger boy just said to them. Steve doesn’t know if Jonathan is out to Will, or vice versa. Steve is not dumb, he sees the way Will looks at Mike sometimes. It was the same way his brother looked at Nancy. It had to be hard, being so young and feeling so alone. Will had to be the person Dustin was talking about, right? The only other gay friend Steve knows they have is Robin, and Dustin has no idea she’s gay if we take into account that he wanted to set her up with Steve not long ago.

“We’ll think about it.” Steve heard Jon say. He was surprised, it looked like Jon was considering it.

“I can assure you our friends will be okay with it. And seeing that might encourage this person to come out! I really think they need the support and I wanna give it to them but I don’t know how.” Gosh. He looked so pained about not being able to comfort Will. Dustin is a really good friend.

“As Jon said, we’ll think about it.”

“O-okay. Thanks.” Dustin got up and exited the room, presumably to go to Will’s.

When they were sure he was in another room they separated and inhaled deeply.

“What do you think?” Steve asked.

“I hadn’t… thought about that.” His hands were in his lap and he looked at the door. “I’m gonna assume you know who he was talking about.”

“I’ve… had my suspicions.” Steve ventured. “Will has been looking sad lately.”

“Yeah. Maybe Dustin’s right. Could be a good thing.” He still looked a bit nervous about the whole idea.

“We don’t have to though.”

“I think we should.”

“Really?” Steve didn’t want to pressure Jon, but he also thought it would be good for Will. That kid needs support but he needs to feel comfortable enough to ask for it. No one knows how he would react if they just dumped on him the information that he’s not as subtle as he thinks.

“Yeah. How hard can it be? Same plan just, more people are gonna know.” Jon smiled. “And Will might feel better. I’d do anything for him.” Will was lucky to have such a caring brother.

Steve grinned mischievously. “We might have to revisit the kissing rule, though.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes and smacked him with his pillow.

———

This is a bit shorter than the last one, sorry about that.

I think I might post a chapter once a week.

Also, the tag list is getting really long! I don’t know if I’ll be adding more to the list.

Thanks for reading. Ps. Eddie might finally be in the next chapter. Watch out.

#I think I got an ex but I forgot him #stranger things 4 #stranger things #st4 #steve harrington #jonathan byers #dustin henderson #will byers #steddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #eventually hehe #platonic steve x jonathan #mer writes sometimes #my fics #hi sorry this shorter!!#the fun REALLY starts next chapter I promise #thanks for being patient

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ladykailitha · 7 months

Text

--ipation!

Did I split it in two just to make that joke? Hell yeah I did. No regrets!

Um...a teeny-tiny bit of poly Nancy/Jonathan/Argyle if you squint, like really hard.

Part 1

***

Eddie and Steve pulled up to the Hawk to see that their friends were waiting for them...well all except Janice, but she was on her way.

“You ready for this?” Eddie asked.

Steve took a deep breath and then nodded. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

Eddie stepped out first.

“Where’s Steve?” Robin asked, running up to him.

Nancy, Argyle, and Jonathan were fast on her heels.

“Is he okay?” Jonathan asked as soon as he reached Eddie.

Eddie held up his hands. “I got it all figured out. I had a friend come in and give me a hand but Steve’s here and I can’t wait for you to see it.”

He cocked his head to the side and licked his upper lip. He cocked one eye brow and said, “I want to see you shiver with antic—ipation.”

Jonathan and Robin giggled, but Nancy and Argyle, who hadn’t seen it yet looked confused.

Eddie turned around but before he could open his mouth Janice came running up to them, high heels clanging hard on the pavement.

“Oh good!” she said, panting, clutching her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “I was hoping to get here before Eddie did the reveal.”

Everybody but Eddie turned and looked at her like she was crazy.

She popped up, waving her hand and grinned. “Hi-ee! I’m Janice, I’m Eddie’s friend and Stevie’s fairy godmother.”

Eddie grinned back. “Perfect timing, babe.” He kissed her cheek.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart,” Eddie called over his shoulder. “Ready when you are, Rocky Horror!”

A beat. And then another.

Then Steve stepped out of the van and popped his hip. He smiled at them, hand on his hip.

They all cheered again.

Robin walked up to Steve and touched his sides. “You can’t even tell they were ever there.” She turned to Janice. “You did that?”

She nodded with a grin. “He’s a got a great figure for Rocky, all I did was help a little with his confidence.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks Janice.”

“My pleasure, babe,” she cooed. “Especially since I’m getting such a great stylist out of the deal.”

Eddie put his arms around Janice and Steve. “We’ve got a movie to see, I’ll introduce you all after.”

“Totally bodacious, brochacho,” Argyle said and held out his arm for Janice to take.

She took it with a grin and began talking his ear off about how their characters were related.

Robin took her place under Eddie’s arm and the three of them followed their friends into the theater.

After the movie everyone was introduced. They all loved the movie.

There was also a costume contest. There were prizes for best costume for each character, best group, best in show, and wildest interpretation of a character.

They won best group, which some of the other groups protested because they had seven in theirs, while most groups only had three or four. But the Party decided that they were just bitter because of how cool everyone looked.

Eddie won best Frank N Furter. His natural curls and commitment to the whole bit really helped sell the whole look and it was easy to see that he really deserved it.

Steve won best in show. There were other people dressed as Rocky of course, but he really had the whole look down. Especially when standing next to Eddie’s Dr Frank N. Furter.

They all went back to Steve’s for popcorn, drinks and homemade pizza.

While they were waiting for Steve to cut the pizza and bring it out, Robin said, “God Janice, I don’t think I’ve seen Steve smile so much since he got those scars. You really are a fairy godmother!”

Janice stood up and curtsied. “Thank you. I wouldn’t recommend he do it all the time, especially since it’ll be covered up by his shirt. But he’s more than welcome to call me anytime and I’ll happily do it again.”

“God, you’re so perfect I could kiss you,” Robin breathed.

Eddie whispered in her ear, “Well, considering she bi and single, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

Robin turned bright red as Janice waggled her eyebrows.

Steve came out with the pizzas, wearing a t-shirt over top of his costume.

“Aww...” Eddie pouted. “Why did you cover up?”

Steve laughed. “Getting hot tomato sauce on your chest is no laughing matter.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

They dived into the pizza.

“I liked the movie,” Argyle said they had stuffed themselves. “It was very cool. Thanks for the invite, man.”

Nancy laughed. “Yeah, it was fun.”

Steve grinned. “I had a lot fun too, thanks to Janice.”

“I’m glad I was able to make the night fun for everyone,” she said. “I know I keep harping on this, but seriously I’m getting the best end of the deal with Steve starting on Monday to work for me.”

“It’s so cool, bro,” Argyle said. “The work you did with me and Eddie’s hair was so wicked. I’m glad you get to share your talents with others.”

Steve smiled. “Thanks, man. I’m super excited.”

“I’m also thinking of putting him through beauty school,” Janice said. “He deserves to be the best he can be.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Janice.”

“Foods over, pretty boy,” Robin huffed. “If I have to be centimeters away from flashing people my ass, you can go without a shirt.”

Steve laughed and took off the t-shirt. They continued to eat treats and drink soda while they talked and laughed.

It was moving from late at night to early morning and one by one they were dropping off.

Argyle, Nancy, and Jonathan were cuddled together on the sofa, while Janice and Robin snuggled up under a big, fluffy blanket on the loveseat.

It was just Eddie and Steve left. They were cleaning up in the kitchen, moving together as though they had done this for years.

Steve turned to face Eddie. “Thanks for tonight. You really came in clutch.”

Eddie grinned. “Glad to be of service. Plus any chance to see your chest again is always a plus in my book.”

Steve grinned. “Oh I don’t doubt it. I’ve noticed that you really, really like my tits.”

Eddie coughed, choking on his own saliva. “You can’t just say it like that, man.”

Steve stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “I’ve been noticing your attraction since Lover’s Lake.”

Eddie gulped. He had hoped in the aftermath that Steve would have forgotten his little cigarette moment. Apparently not.

“Which is why I was a little confused when you pushed me at Nancy.”

Eddie’s mouth went desert dry, his heart rate picked up, and his breathing became labored.

“But then Robin explained it to me,” Steve said as he got right into Eddie’s space, “you were trying sniff out if I liked her. Well, here’s the answer in black and white, Eds. I don’t like her. I like you.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped and it took a moment before his brain caught up. He grabbed Steve’s face and smashed their lips together. It was hungry and sexy and rough.

And oh god, did Steve love it. He got his hands into Eddie’s curls, wincing a little at the sticky mess that was all the hairspray and tangle of bobby pins. But he didn’t falter for a moment, kissing back as fiercely as Eddie had.

When they finally broke apart, they were both panting for breath.

Eddie huffed out a laugh and ran a finger over Steve’s lips, further smearing the lipstick Eddie had been wearing. “I think we’ve got to get you cleaned up, lover boy. My makeup is all over your face and you really don’t want to sleep with that makeup on your torso.”

Steve winced looking down at his chest. “Yeah, that would be pretty gross.”

“I’ve got you.”

Eddie led him upstairs to Steve’s bathroom and gently removed their makeup. He started with Steve taking the makeup remover he had bought for his own costume and a warm, wet wash cloth and touched it to his side.

Steve could have just taken a shower but let him carefully remove the layers of make up that had hidden his scars.

He then helped Eddie out of the corset and fishnet stockings. He removed the bobby pins and gently rinsed out the hairspray. Eddie’s curls fell in down his back once again.

Soon they were both wearing the same amount of clothes, Steve in his shorts and Eddie in black bottoms.

They laid down on the bed and curled around each other. The heat from earlier was gone, replaced by tender care.

“Can I ask–” Eddie started.

“Why I chose Rocky?” Steve murmured back.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “You didn’t have to go through all this. I mean I loved it and you got a fancy new job out of it, but it could have ended in disaster.”

“I hadn’t seen Rocky Horror before tonight,” Steve said. “But Robin had. When I asked who I should be she told me that of all the characters I fit Rocky the best. I didn’t know if she was insulting my intelligence or what until I saw the movie. Then I got it. Because despite everything, Rocky loved Frank.”

Eddie gulped. “And do you love me, Stevie?”

“Yeah, I really do.”

They kissed again. They drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

And if they came down the following morning to Argyle and Jonathan making breakfast, hand in hand no one said anything. Nancy just smiled at them from her perch on the counter where she was watching Argyle and Jonathan cook.

Or at least no more then Steve or Eddie said anything about Janice offering to drive Robin home.

All in all? It had been a great night.

***

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve needs a hug #eddie is a sweetheart #rocky horror picture show #halloween costumes

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geekfanficwriter · 2 years

Text

Weird- Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your friendship with Steve isn't that weird, right? Words: 2.8k Warnings: SMUT (18+, minors dni), dry humping, fingering, oral (m!receiving), slight angst but not really

‘Never have I ever thrown up while giving a blowjob.’ Your best friend, Steve, said looking directly at you with a big grin on his face. You glared back at him as you took a drink, while everyone else made audible noises of disgust.

‘Yeah, yeah. I was drunk. I was going to throw up anyway.’ You waved your hand as if it wasn’t a big deal. It was your turn next so you thought for a second before looking directly at Steve.

‘Never have I ever had sex on a golf course in broad daylight.’ Steve rolled his eyes before taking a drink. You looked around the circle and saw Nancy glaring at you as she took a drink.

‘Oh shit. Sorry, Nance, I forgot that was you.’ You said your eyes widening. You had only meant to make Steve drink, not her.

‘Why does she even know that?’ Nancy shot at Steve, who shrugged.

‘We tell each other everything.’

‘Well, your friendship is weird.’ Nancy said, standing up and storming off with Jonathan following closely behind her. Soon after that, the game trickled off with people going to mingle or dance. You and Steve got up heading through to his kitchen to grab a couple beers.

‘Our friendship isn’t that weird right?’ You asked Steve, frowning slightly.

‘No, definitely not babe.’ Steve said wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind. You rested the back of your head on his chest as you took sips from your beer. You and Steve had been friends since 5th grade, ever since he had stolen a ball from you in the playground and you had kicked him in the shin. Even throughout his ‘King Steve’ phase the two of you had remained friends. Despite him being popular and you being a weirdo who didn’t care about conforming to high school standards, he had always stuck by your side defending you from anyone who tried to make fun of you in any way.

‘Hey, Rob.’ You greeted her as she walked into the kitchen, looking for a bottle opener.

‘Rob, do you think me and Steve’s friendship is weird?’ You ask as you fiddle with Steve’s hand.

‘Yeah definitely.’ She said leaning against the counter facing the two of you.

‘What’s so weird about it? I mean it’s no different from you and Steve’s friendship!’ You protest, pouting.

‘I don’t stand in the corner of a party, cuddled up to Steve.’ She points out and you look between you and Steve.

‘Okay so fine maybe our friendships are different but that doesn’t make it weird.’

‘If you guys were a couple the way you act would be weird but as friends, totally weird. I mean you guys are constantly cuddling, you call each other pet names like babe and sweetheart like I’m convinced Steve doesn’t know your name at this point, you guys always share a bed even though you don’t have to, you-‘

‘Okay, okay fine you’ve made your point.’ You cut Robin off, your face bright red.

‘Just saying, it’s weird.’ She said, walking away as you turn to face Steve who ruffles your hair.

‘Ignore her, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. And she’s wrong about at least one thing, I do know your name, Y/N.’ He jokes and you smile at him. Your friendship was perfectly normal.

The party had ended and Steve was currently helping an extremely drunk Robin to the spare room while you walked around with a trash bag, throwing in empty bottles that were scattered everywhere. You were pretty drunk currently but not so much that you couldn’t stand just so much that you were completely buzzed.

‘You don’t need to clean up, babe. I’ll do that in the morning.’ Steve said coming down the stairs and wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his head into your shoulder.

‘I’ll just finish what I’m doing.’ You told him, wrapping your arm that wasn’t holding the trash bag around him.

‘No, we're going to bed. You know I won’t be able to sleep without you there.’ Steve wrapped his arms around you even tighter. You sighed, he always got cuddly with you when he was drunk.

‘Okay, let’s go then.’ You placed down the bag and walked upstairs together. Once you reached Steve’s room the two of you stripped down to your underwear and climbed into bed facing each other.

As you lay there you thought about what Robin and Nancy had said. Was your friendship weird? I mean sure Steve had seen your boobs before but that was only because you had a weird lump and wanted a second opinion. And yeah, once or twice before you had both masturbated next to each other because you had been horny and didn’t want to leave each other. And sure, when that had happened you had wanted to reach over and touch Steve’s cock but that didn’t mean anything.

Oh, who were you kidding? Your friendship was weird. If any of your other friends acted this way around you, you’d think they were a creep but Steve was different. He was Steve, your best friend and the greatest guy in Hawkins (not that there was much competition). Of course, you wanted to be more than friends but Steve could have his pick of any girl so why would he choose you?

A flick to the forehead pulled you out of your thoughts.

‘You’re thinking loudly.’ Steve told you, a concerned look on his face.

‘That makes no sense.’ You respond.

‘It totally does. Now, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?’ You were happy that it was dark in the room because Steve wouldn’t be able to see you blush.

‘Robin’s right. Our friendship is weird.’ You muttered looking down. Steve reached out and pulled you into his chest, stroking your hair.

‘Oh, babe, who cares what anyone else thinks? As long as we’re happy then that’s what matters. And besides, I personally don’t care if people think I’m dating you, I’d be lucky to be in a relationship with you.’

‘I’d be the lucky one if we were dating. I mean I’d be dating The Steve Harrington.’ You grin, removing your face from his chest and looking at him.

‘Oh come on, I’d be dating someone who is smart, hot, funny, kind. You’d be dating a guy who peaked in high school and now works in a video shop. I’d definitely be the lucky one.’

‘Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re the best person I know. Any girl who be lucky to have you, including me.’ It was the closest you were going to get to a confession. The idea of actually revealing the truth of your feelings to Steve scared you and wasn’t something you were going to do in the dark while drunk while you had no escape.

‘Let’s just settle on we’d both be lucky to date each other. Although I’d personally be overjoyed to date you. Now, goodnight.’ Before you could even ask him what he meant, he shut his eyes and adjusted himself so he was in a more comfortable position to sleep. You didn’t move, his words playing through your head continuously. Did he really mean it? Maybe Steve felt the same way about you that you did about him.

Before you could convince yourself to back out you decide to make a move, knowing that Steve isn’t actually asleep yet. You move your legs forward, wrapping the top one around his waist and pressing your crotch against his. You contain a gasp as you feel that Steve’s already hard against you. You move your hips once, in a way that could be perceived as an accident if this goes badly. You bit your lip as your clit rubs against him, and Steve lets out a quiet groan, eyes flying open.

‘What are you doing?’ He asks looking at you.

‘Did you mean it?’ You whisper quietly. Your forehead was pressed against his, your lips barely an inch apart.

‘Did I mean what?’ Steve whispered in response.

‘That you’d be overjoyed to date me.’ You say it as if it was something simple. As if your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest. As if the entire dynamic of your friendship is about to change no matter what he answers.

‘I- Of course I did.’ Steve stumbles slightly but settles at last on just admitting the truth. That’s all you need to react, closing the gap between the two of you and pressing your lips against his. Steve kissed back hard, both of you pouring all your emotions into that one kiss. He moved his hand up to grip the back of your head, holding you close. Eventually, the two of you pulled away from each other and Steve moved his hand down to stroke your cheek. You felt your heart flutter as you looked into his eyes and he pressed a kiss to your nose. You lean in again kissing him hard as you reach your hands down, gripping his boxers in your hands.

‘Babe, as much as I want to, I want to take you out on a date before we have sex.’ He said pulling away from you.

‘Okay, but if we keep our underwear on does it really count as sex?’ You smile cheekily at him. Steve thinks for a moment before smiling.

‘No, it definitely doesn’t.’ Steve leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips hard. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed yourself against his hard cock. You could feel how big he was through your underwear and you really wanted to feel him in your hand but you respected his boundaries. He started to grind his hips into yours as you let out a moan, feeling him press against your clit. He pulls away from your lips, pressing kisses down your neck as you rub against him. He sucks hard, leaving marks behind as his hands move up to grab your breasts.

‘Screw it. Can I put my fingers inside you?’ Steve groaned out and you moaned slightly at his words, nodding as you do so. He reached inside your underwear and started to rub your clit. You groaned out and rutted your hips against his hand. He slipped his fingers down and rubbed them around your hole.

‘Steve, please.’ You whined out. He slipped his fingers inside you and you groaned out, gripping the bedsheets beneath you. He slowly started pumping his fingers in and out of you as you moaned loudly. He moved his thumb up to rub your clit as he suck on the part of your breast that was exposed from your bra. He sped up his fingers inside you, moving them at the perfect pace. You threw your head back against the pillow as you felt your orgasm building as his fingers kept moving in and out of you.

‘Come on, baby.’ Steve encouraged you. You moaned, clenching around his fingers as he rubbed your clit even harder, causing your orgasm to wash over you. You moaned loudly as you came. You breathed hard as Steve pulled his fingers out of you slowly. He leaned down and kissed you sweetly as you reached behind his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

‘Steve, can I give you a blowjob, please?’ You asked sweetly as you felt his dick pressing into you.

‘Fuck, fuck yeah.’ Steve nods as he moves to lie on his back. You get up and move down so your mouth was level with his cock. You grip his boxers with your hand and pull them down slightly. You gasp lightly when you see his cock. It’s bigger and thicker than you expected. You’re not sure how you’re going to fit it into your mouth. You lean down and press a kiss to his hip, sucking lightly as you do. You move your attention to his cock and press a small kiss to the tip. You move down and light a strip up his cock before sucking lightly on the tip. Steve's hands fly to your hair as he lets out a loud groan at the feeling. You take him deeper into your mouth and breath deeply as you slowly jerk what you can’t fit into your mouth. Steve moans out your name as you swirl your tongue around him, starting to bob your head up and down as you do so. Steve pulled your hair and you moaned against his cock.

‘Fuck.’ Steve moaned. You kept bobbing your head up and down as Steve’s hands gripped your hair. You could tell he was close so you pulled up slightly so you were just sucking the tip, while you pumped the rest with your hand. He let out a loud moan as he came into your mouth. You swallowed it all as Steve leaned back against the pillow. You made your way back up and pressed your lips against his softly.

‘So what was that about no sex?’ You grinned slightly as you snuggled into his chest, his arms wrapping around you.

‘It wasn’t like full-on sex so really it doesn’t count.’ He grinned back, pulling your head back up to meet his lips.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.’ You murmur as you pull away from him before yawning slightly.

‘Neither will I, now come on, let’s go to sleep.’ You turn over on your side so Steve is spooning you from behind and close your eyes dozing off into a blissful rest.

You wake in the morning and smile as you feel Steve’s arms wrapped around you. You turn over in his arms and face him, seeing his beautiful sleeping face, reaching your hand up and running it through his hair. He stirs away slowly, eyes opening as he grins down at you.

‘Please tell me last night wasn’t a dream.’ He mumbles out sleepily.

‘Nope, it was definitely real.’ You grin and he leans down slightly, pressing your lips together.

‘Come on, let’s get up and get some breakfast.’ He pulls away from you, standing up and walking over to his wardrobe, grabbing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, throwing them over to you before sliding on a t-shirt himself. You quickly pull them on and stand up.

The two of you walk into the kitchen, heading over to the fridge. You pull out some eggs and bacon, before grabbing a frying pan and putting it on the stove.

‘I should probably make some for Robin as well.’ You say as you put enough bacon for the three of you on the pan.

‘Hmm, probably.’ Steve says wrapping his arms around you from behind and kissing behind your ear lightly. ‘Have I ever told you how good you look in my clothes?’ He whispers in your ear, making you blush.

‘You’ve seen me in your clothes thousands of times.’ You reply back.

‘Yeah, and you always look good in them.’ He flirts back and you roll your eyes at his antics.

‘Hey, guys.’ Robin says, walking into the kitchen, and rubbing her eyes. Steve pulls away from you, smiling slightly as he heads over to a cupboard to grab some plates.

‘Hey Rob, you want one egg or two?’ You ask, turning to look at her as you put the bacon on the plates.

‘Two. I’m starving.’ You nod and turn back to the pan, cracking some eggs over it.

Once you finished making breakfast, the three of you sit down at the breakfast bar, eating your food. You lean over and rest your head on Steve’s shoulder as you eat and he smiles down pressing a kiss to your forehead.

‘Urgh, see this is what I mean. That is weird for friends.’ Robin scoffs, looking disgusted.

‘But it’s not weird if she’s my girlfriend, right?’ Steve asks a big grin on his face.

‘Wait, no, oh my god.’ Robin says looking at the two of you with shock.

‘Yep, thanks to you calling our friendship weird, we confessed our feelings to each other.’ You grinned excitedly.

‘I knew you guys liked each other!’ Robin said excitedly before a look of horror crossed her face. ‘Please don’t hook up in the back room at Family Video.’ You both laughed slightly at her face.

‘No promises.’ Steve laughed, gripping your chin and pulling your face towards his in a sweet kiss.

‘Eww, no stop. I’m going to be sick.’ Robin fake gagged.

‘Well, it’s your fault we’re together now so you’re going to have to put up with it.’ You smiled as you cuddled into Steve’s side.

#steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #joe keery smut #joe keery #joe keery x reader

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