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illiterateaffairs · 11 months

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DISTRACTIONS SCENE BETWEEN | STAY LIKE THIS FOREVER

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 1,190

summary: the first time you spend the night at jamie’s place. this takes place between chapters three and four of distractions.

A/N: here is the first missing scene from distractions! sorry this is posted so late but it’s still monday for me! i plan on doing a few of these here and there, and will be posting another for ted day tomorrow. please let me know if there are any other moments, either mentioned or implied, you’d like to see from distractions! because i had a busy memorial day weekend, i haven’t had the chance to get chapter seven of distractions in a perfect place, so want to make sure you guys have some small things to hold you over. chapter seven should be out friday!

distractions masterlist

There were a lot of things that brought you to Jamie’s door that night.

One was homesickness. You had made the mistake of going on Facebook - a mistake in and of itself - and happened upon pictures of your extended family at a get-together for God knows what. It really didn’t matter. It was just a reminder of what you were missing, even before moving to another continent. You could count on one hand the number of times you got to go home to see your dads in the last few years, and lately it's been hitting you harder how much you missed them.

The second was also Facebook's fault. As you continued scrolling through the app in a depressed haze, you’d happened upon a post from Mason’s mom. God you really needed to unfriend him and his whole family. She had posted pictures of their family; Mason and Chloe included. Without even thinking, you’d clicked on Mason’s profile and saw his updated status.

In a relationship.

He and Chloe were Facebook official.

While this didn’t surprise you, it still didn’t make you feel good. It was embarrassing the hold he still had on you, even though you’ve long since realized you deserved better than him. It just wasn’t fair that he got to flaunt his perfect, new relationship even though he fucked up and cheated. Eventually, you knew you’d stop caring, but right now all you needed was to get your mind off of your ex and his new girlfriend immediately.

The third reason you came to see Jamie was a bit more complicated, and you didn’t even fully understand it. The reason being that you just really wanted to see him. You chalked it up to being lonely and horny, and didn’t dwell on the swirling feelings any longer than you should’ve.

You knocked on his door around 10PM. You were worried he might already be asleep, or out training with Roy. You felt more relieved than you should when you heard the pads of his feet approach the front door. When he opened it, his first reaction was one of surprise, before his expression became pleased. He barely had time to formulate a greeting when your lips were on his. Jamie didn’t need instructions. He immediately hoisted you into his arms and carried you to his room.

While you were used to Jamie’s generosity in bed, he was extra giving that night. You’d quickly learned it was because he’d sensed your tension. After round three or four - you couldn’t keep track - you and Jamie were laying side by side. He’d slowly turned to face you, and pulled his sheets up to cover you both. He gently thumbed your chin, coaxing you to face him as well.

“Are you alright?” he’d asked softly.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jamie shrugged, “You’re quieter than usual.”

You chuckled, “What? I wasn’t loud enough for you before?”

He rolled his eyes, but smirked slightly, “No, I mean, you’re usually more talkative.”

“Are you saying I talk too much?”

You realized his hand was still making contact with your face when he reached down to lightly pinch your shoulder, “Stop it. I like when you talk, but you’ve barely said a word since you’ve been here. And while I definitely do not mind the surprise visit, you’ve never come to my place before. Just wondering if something happened.”

You sighed, no longer able to meet his eye. “It’s really nothing. Was just feeling off today.”

Jamie hummed, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head, “Not right now.”

“Okay. Do you want to talk about anything?”

“Hmm,” you basked in his attention and the way he was playing with your hair for a second, “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

“What?” Jamie let out a confused laugh.

“You know, like when you were a kid, did you always want to be a football player, or did you want to be something else?”

“Huh,” Jamie thought for a beat, “I feel like I don’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be a footballer. After my mom got me into it, I never looked back.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” you mused.

“What about you?” he asked after a few seconds.

“I think in kindergarten I wanted to be a ballerina because I watched Barbie Swan Lake.”

“Of course.”

“And then when I was 9 or 10 I wanted to be a meteorologist. Or no, a storm chaser!”

Jamie laughed loudly, “What? Why?”

“I don’t know. I watched the Wizard of Oz and thought tornadoes were cool as hell.”

“I think that’s the opposite of what you’re supposed to think.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not like other girls,” you both laughed. “But then in middle school, I took my first creative writing class and I was hooked. I felt like I could write forever.”

“Is that what you did before you came here?” he questioned.

“Sort of. I wrote for an advertising agency, but I wasn’t passionate about it. What I really want to do is be an author,” you admitted quietly.

“Yeah? That’d be so cool.” Jamie whispered, still twisting your hair between his fingers.

“I think so, too,” you smiled a bit, “But I just haven’t had any inspiration lately.”

Jamie nodded, “Well I bet when you do start writing again, it’ll be great.”

“How would you know? You’ve never read my writing.”

“I just know.” After another few beats of silence, he continues even quieter, “Would you ever let me read something of yours, when you do?”

You studied him through your lashes, before giving him a tiny smile of your own. “Maybe,” you respond coyly. “You have to promise to lie to me and tell me you love it even if you hate it, though.”

Jamie huffs, “I doubt that’ll happen, but I promise.”

“Thank you.”

You and Jamie kept chatting for a few more minutes before your eyelids grew heavy. As you drifted off, you note how comfortable and at ease you feel with Jamie. Whether it's when you’re hooking up, or just enjoying each other’s company, you feel nice and safe. It was a new feeling, and you didn’t know what it meant, especially when you were half asleep, but you liked it.

The two of you slept soundly, wrapped up in one another, until around 4AM when you heard pounding coming from the front door. Without opening your eyes, you groan as you feel Jamie pull himself out of bed and out of your arms.

“I’m sorry, it’s Roy,” he whispered, “I’ve got to get to training.”

You let out another noise of protest and Jamie chuckled quietly.

“Next time we stay at my place where Roy can’t find us,” you mumbled tiredly.

“Sounds good to me.”

You barely registered what must have been Jamie kissing your cheek before you’re falling back asleep.

You were fully out again as Jamie quickly and quietly got ready. Before he jogged downstairs to meet Roy, he indulged himself with one last lingering look at your sleeping form.

God, you were cute.

A/N: once again, please let me know what you think!! and if there are any other missing scenes you’d like to see! <3 p.s. anyone who asked to be on the taglist today/yesterday I will make sure you’re included in my post tomorrow!

Taglist: @atabigail @boundtomyfate @sammysgirl1997 @lil-tracys @shephard17895 @alaspice @itsbarbraann @redpool @drmeghanjones @straightforwardly @alex-sulli @aiyaiy @artemismaximoff @roadtoself-love @theloud-yet-quietone @forcesofgrief @kirisimpster @geek-and-proud @grippleback-galaxy @lalla-04p @gabbycoady13 @royalestrellas @qardasngan @creationcitystreet-em @percysaidnever @emily-b @mrfitzsimmons @k-n-e @agentstarkid @legobatmans9thab @mrsprongs25 @escapismqueen @sokkigarden @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @dollfaceyourfear @dicgohargreeves @heyitz-julia @vampirodelascajas @grxcesmind @lizziel1410 @bcon24 @looooooooomis @queen-of-dumbasses @moseyluvs @alipap3 @amachira @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @daphneblakeswife @chelseamount @k0z3me @lickitandsendit3 @miakreid @shimmeringfrenchie @meg-ro @spookysins @a-sweet-little-fangirl @optimisticsandwichgladiator @marveltg365 @ringpopdust @gcidrvsh @beardsplitter @scaramou @ibong-adarnaaa @piper570 @eviemae263782 it wouldn’t let me tag the last few of you, let me know if its something with your settings, otherwise i can keep trying in future updates! <3

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #mine #distractions series #distractions scene between #missing scenes

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nyoomfruits · 6 months

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ROMANCE AUS #7

Sorry for shouting. Please and thank you.

7. made out while in costume at a halloween party (lando's outfit for reference)

“This is ridiculous,” Lando hisses, uncomfortably pulling at the pink ruffly collar around his neck as he makes his way into the kitchen. It’s already fairly packed, mostly because Lando had tried to stall actually arriving at this party for as long as possible. “I look like a fucking idiot.”

“I think you look….” Alex appraises him, looking at Lando’s ‘sexy Princess Peach’ costume with a shit eating grin. “Well. Like a princess.” Lando glares at him and makes his way over to where the booze is set up, pouring himself a hefty shot of tequila and knocking it back immediately with a wince.

“Really putting the peach in Princess Peach with those hotpants,” George agrees, entering the kitchen and patting Lando on the shoulder as he passes him on the way to the fridge. He’s dressed as some kind of Greek god, and Lando’s 99% sure he only picked it because it was an excuse not to wear a shirt.

“I hate both of you and I’m unfriending you on Facebook the second, I get home,” Lando grumbles, adjusting the stupid tiara on his head and pouring another shot of tequila.

Alex laughs. “A bet’s a bet, mate. And you lost.”

“Yeah, my fucking dignity,” Lando says, pulling at the back of the hot pants in the hopes it will at least cover some of his ass. He’s never making another bet with George and Alex again. “Anyway, at least I am wearing something original instead of, what,” he gestures at Alex’s outfit. “A cowboy?”

“Ken!” Alex says, completely unbothered, doing a little spin.

Lando snorts, rolls his eyes. “Right. And who’s your Barbie, then?”

Charles chooses that exact moment to swan into the kitchen in a bright pink cowboy suit complete with sparkly cowboy hat and white cowboy boots. “Lads! Are you ready to get wasted?!”

“Of course,” Lando says. “Why did I even ask?” And knocks back another shot of tequila.

It gets better, after a while. He’s starting to get considerably more drunk which makes him feel considerably more comfortable about looking like a very scarcely clad Princess Peach, and he’s starting to have actual fun.

So of course, that’s the exact moment George decides to ruin everything again. “Lads,” he says. “I have fantastic news. I have spotted… A Mario.”

Alex and Charles holler like George had just told them they’d won a million bucks each. Lando frowns. “So?” He asks, regretting it immediately when he’s suddenly faced with three absolutely shit eating grins. “Oh, fuck no,” he says, suddenly realizing what they’re hinting at. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Lando, you have to,” Charles says, putting on his big stupid pleading puppy dog eyes. Lando hates him. “It’s Mario,” he adds, like that somehow explains everything.

“Yeah, what is Mario without his Peach,” Alex agrees, not even trying to hide the smirk on his face.

“I am not making out with some random dude dressed up as Mario just because you guys seem to think that people in matching costumes need to make out!” Lando exclaims. “Actually, by that logic, why aren’t you two making out,” Lando says, gesturing between Charles and Alex.

Alex shrugs. “We already did.”

“When you were trying to create, what was it? ‘The world’s funkiest cocktail’ in the kitchen,” Charles adds.

“I can attest. I watched them do it, it was hot,” George says, and takes an obnoxious sip of ‘the world’s funkiest cocktail’ through his straw. “This is very funky by the way.”

“Thank you,” Lando says primly. “Still not making out with Mario.”

Alex gets a very dangerous mischievous gleam in his eyes. “I dare you,” he says, and George and Charles simultaneously let out a gasp that would’ve been very funny if Alex hadn’t just doomed Lando’s entire night.

“Oh fuck you,” he says, glaring, before knocking back the last of his own glass of ‘the world’s funkiest cocktail’ and slamming his cup down onto the bar. “All right, where is that fucker.”

“That’s no way to talk about your future husband.”

“Can it, George.”

Alex snorts. “He’s on the couch in the living room.”

“All right,” Lando says, shaking out his limbs like he’s going to run a fucking Marathon instead of make out with a guy that might not even want to make out with him. “Here goes nothing,” he says, before making his way back into the living room.

It’s pretty packed, but he finds the couch easily, ducking behind two girls dressed like Wednesday and Enid before coming to a standstill in front of the guy dressed as Mario. He even has one of those stupid stick on moustaches, though he’s ditched the gloves, the pair lying abandoned on the arm rest next to him.

Other than that he’s. Kind of cute. In a sort of boyish way. He has something weirdly familiar, though Lando can’t quite place it. “Hi,” he says, trying to stand in a way that accentuates his. Something. It must work regardless because the guy’s eyes snap to Lando and then widen ever so slightly, the light flush he had on his cheeks – probably from the heat – darkening considerably.

“Lando,” he blurts out, and Lando falters a little because huh. So he does know this guy. That’s a little. It’s probably not a great start to trying to woo him, not remembering who he is. The guy must notice Lando’s confusion because he adds. “Oscar? You’re in my econ 101 lecture.” His eyes dart away and then back again, lingering for a moment on Lando’s thighs, that are very prominently on display.

“Right!” Lando says, though he doesn’t specifically remember Oscar. “Monday 8am. My favorite class.”

Oscar laughs, a loud, sharp thing that sort of seems to startle out of him, folding his body ever so slightly forward as he does so. “Yeah, that one,” he says, and he seems a little tense now, his shoulder dropping ever so slightly.

“Where’s Luigi?” Lando asks, changing the topic before he has to reveal he still doesn’t technically remember Oscar, nudging Oscar’s cap with his hand, watching Oscar’s eyes widen when Lando leans in a little closer.

“Oh, uh. Fucked off,” Oscar says, blushing slightly. “He uh. There was this girl, so.”

“Ah,” Lando says, nodding. “Daisy.”

Oscar’s brows knit together in a decidedly cute way. “Daisy?”

“Yeah,” Lando says. “You know. Daisy, Luigi.” He gestures between them then, “Mario. Peach.”

“Right,” Oscar says, blushing impossibly more. “Right, yeah. Mario and Peach.”

“Exactly!” Lando says, and then, because he’s getting signals, and because Oscar has been trying very had not to stare at Lando’s. Everything. For the past five minutes, he sits down. In Oscar’s lap. “Peach and Mario,” he says, as Oscar flails a little and seems to have some kind of internal panic about where to put his hands.

Lando solves it by grabbing them and putting them on the flimsy little waist of his body suit. Oscar lets out a slow shuddering breath as he glances up at Lando with wide eyes, but leaves his hands on Lando’s waist, as Lando readjust himself, puts a knee on either side of Oscar’s thighs. “As I was saying,” he says. “Mario and Peach.” And then he takes Oscar’s face in his hands, takes off the stupid moustache, and kisses him full on the mouth.

Oscar makes a tiny little noise in surprise, fumbling a little as their teeth clack together, but then suddenly something in him seems to snap, and he kisses back. His hands are suddenly everywhere, from Lando’s waist to his back to his ass, squeezing down in a way that makes Lando moan into his mouth, an opportunity which Oscar uses to slide his tongue into Lando’s mouth, kissing him like a man starved.

Lando lets his hands slide from the sides of Oscar’s face into his hair, knocking the Mario hat off and tugging ever so slightly, eliciting a delicious little moaning noise from Oscar that he swallows eagerly. It goes on like that for a bit, each of them giving as good as they get, when Lando finally pulls away, breathing a little heavily.

Oscar looks equally debauched, breathing heavily, eyes wide and hair messy. He looks… He looks fucking hot, and Lando vows to pay more attention in econ 101, next time.

“Mamma Mia,” Oscar breathes out, in a terrible Itatlian accent, and there’s a little twitch to the corner of his mouth, even though his words are incredibly deadpan, and it startles a laugh out of Lando. Hot and funny. Yeah, Lando’s definitely going to start paying more attention.

But for now, he presses his lips back to Oscar’s, and sends a small little thank you to that bet he lost. Maybe he should start losing them more often, if it gets him this.

#landoscar #mctwinks #twinklaren #the vibe is oscar DEFINITELY has a crush on lando and spends most of his econ 101 class pining over him #imagine seeing the guy you like in THAT outfit i too would die #drabble #ask game

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steviewashere · 2 months

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Terrifyingly Intense

Rating: General CW: Minor References to Sex, Steve Harrington's Self Worth Issues Tags: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Arguing, Apologizing, Making Up, Steve Harrington has Self Esteem Issues, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Lover, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Happy Ending

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is terrifying."

💕—————💕

Steve doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

He’s pretty incapable of being normal about how he loves Eddie. From week two of their relationship, Steve was ready to get down on one knee and propose. Which is insane of him. They’ve been close friends since Eddie woke up in early April. And somewhere in there, Steve said the words all over again with true intent and intense feeling. Now it’s December and they’ve been together for less than a month. And Steve is driving himself up a wall.

But it makes him sick to his stomach.

Yeah, he said “I love you”, to Eddie. He’s said it out of fear in the hospital. Said it with hysteria in that field some weeks ago. But that doesn’t change the way Steve wants to say it again. In a sobering moment. When they’re doing something mundane. And he hasn’t disappointed anybody around him or nearly lost anybody to some third world grave danger.

He should know how to do this.

Yet, here he is in their little relationship—which, truly, feels too intense and big for human language—pulling himself away whenever Eddie wants to see him or talk to him or be with him.

Logically, he shouldn’t be doing something so stupid.

But—God—he’s so afraid. Afraid that Eddie will wake up one day, realize just how intense and lonely and nuts Steve is, and he’ll break off what they have. And then…Well, then Eddie won’t wanna be friends, he’ll stop hanging around, he’ll make up excuses to not have Hellfire in Steve’s dining room, he’ll do something crazy like unfriend all of them, he’ll get the fuck out of Hawkins, he’ll leave everything he’s ever known behind.

Yeah, Steve can’t be the cause of that.

So, he hides away. Keeps himself busy. Occupied, whatever. Hands never idle. Brain never quiet. Eyes never rested. And he stays away from Eddie.

——— By the second week of Steve’s little shenanigan, Eddie has caught on.

It’s obvious by the hurt that simmers in his eyes. His soft scowl. The lingering touches that used to make Steve’s skin light up with arousal, now fleeting. Just as fleeting as every other love anything Steve’s ever involved himself in. But he’s too afraid of whatever realization Eddie will make of him.

To be vulnerable, well that’s like death to Steve. He remembers one of the last times he did so. Sans Robin’s confession, because Steve doesn’t think he had an actual thing for her—he’s easily convinced, okay, and he’s also an extremely lonely person. But Nancy definitely left her mark on his self worth, that’s for certain. Bullshit bounces around his—what he thinks—empty skull. If he allows himself to love strongly, he’ll be bullshit eventually. If he forces himself to pull away, he’ll probably still be bullshit.

He won’t win either way.

And that’s apparent by the next time Eddie comes pounding on his front door. Very literally. His fist making the whole door shake.

Steve rips it open, ready to spit fire at whoever is there, but all words die on his tongue in the face of Eddie’s open anger. Eddie’s face is furrowed everywhere possible, his eyes are like lasers, skin red and redder as he looks at Steve.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve tries to coo.

“Cut the shit, Harrington,” Eddie growls back. He shoves his way past Steve. Stumbling into the foyer. It’s been raining and Eddie’s soaked, dripping water from his leather jacket onto the floor, but Steve is too stunned to do anything about it.

In fact, Steve’s stomach is lurching. His mouth filling with saliva. Ready to puke. He shuts the door behind himself, turning around to fully face Eddie. “What—uh—What’s wrong, babe?”

Eddie looks around the space. As if hunting for something. His eyes are sharp when he glares back. “You aren’t busy,” he spits, “you didn’t have a shift at work, I already asked Robin. And you very much so aren’t sick.” He crosses his arms over his chest. The squeak of his jacket loud between them. “When you’re sick, you’re miserable. Like a wet fucking cat. You make a whole ordeal of it. And I come to your rescue every time. Yet, you’re lying to me.” He steps closer into Steve’s space. Steve steps away, back slamming into the door. “Why are you lying to me?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not, Eds. I wouldn’t—“ He bunches his palms at his sides. They’re sweating. His stomach still heavy and twisting. Chest pulsing. “—I wouldn’t lie to you. I don’t know—“

“Then why are you pulling away?” Eddie is practically pleading for an answer. His voice goes pitchy. “I hardly see you anymore. You claim your busy or sick or whatever—But you never are!” He exclaims, his words echoing.

Finally, Steve finds his strength to move. Stepping around Eddie, speeding into the kitchen. Eddie is following him, his footfalls heavy and clumsy, chasing. He won’t give Eddie an answer because he’s not sure which words to even say.

“Sorry I’m pulling away, I love you too much.” That doesn’t even make any fucking sense. Steve never makes sense. This whole thing is starting to make him dumb.

He pulls open the fridge, sticking his head inside, acting as if he’s about to make food. His hands rummaging, digging through his things, knocking containers over, nearly breaking some glass condiment bottles. If he can just get Eddie to grow disinterested in this conversation, maybe he’ll leave and Steve can stew in his feelings, up until he actually knows what to say.

God, what is wrong with him?

“Talk to me, Steve,” Eddie is demanding. “Please just talk to me. Is it something I did? Did I hurt you the last time we had sex or something? Were you dissatisfied with the last date I took you on? Because I can think of a million other things to do, to take you to experience, if you would only talk to me!” He begins to shout. Steve flinches where his head is still buried. He’s always hated arguing, reminds him of his parents, if he’s being honest. But Eddie doesn’t know that. And he hasn’t taken notice. So he continues on, “Maybe you didn’t like the Christmas gift I got you? Is that it? What did I do? Please, Steve, please just—“

“I can’t!” Steve finally yells back, standing up ramrod straight, the fridge door quietly and gently closing behind him. He shifts on his feet, hands bunching at his sides once more. He shakes his head, the tears already prickling in his eyes. “You don’t want to know, okay? You’ll think it’s stupid or something and then I’ll feel worse and I—You can’t know.”

His eyes dart up to Eddie, When was I looking at the floor? And Eddie looks…Well, he looks damn unhappy about that answer. But also severely concerned. He chews at his lip, crossing his arms once more, popping his hip so that his body is leaning away from Steve. He sharply exhales. “If you cheated on me or something, you can just say that. And I’ll get out of your hair.”

“What?” Steve squeaks. “Why would you think that? I wouldn’t do that to somebody.”

“Then what’s wrong? That’s all I can possibly think of as to why you’re putting distance between us.”

He stiffens, swallowing. Sniffling. God, why is he about to cry? His breath stutters in his chest. Stomach churning and churning and flipping. “It’s because I—“ He hiccups a sigh. “It’s because I love you too much, okay?” He whispers. Steve can’t make his voice any louder than that. The shame at the admission coiling tight in his throat and chest. He crosses his own arms, fingers wrapping around his elbows, fingernails digging into his soft flesh. “Like so much, you’ll think I’m insane. And then you’ll get weirded out by me. And you’ll think I’m fucking with you or something and then you’ll just leave. Like everybody else has.”

Eddie softens. Arms dangling loose at his sides. He hesitantly gets closer to Steve. “Baby,” he’s softly cooing, “why would that make me not love you? All I want is to be loved by you.”

“I’m scared,” Steve confesses. “I’m scared you’ll hear me and you’ll see how much I love you and you’ll leave. Or you’ll…You’ll realize something that a lot of other people tend to realize—“ He takes a gasping breath, something salty landing on his tongue. Of course he’s crying. “You’ll just realize that I’m a bullshit person. That I’m too much and too intense and too enamored, or whatever. You’ll realize that I’m bullshit in the sense that I don’t know what to do in a crisis or when I need to make somebody happy. You’ll think I’m bullshitting you about every fucking thing. Because I—“ A sob leaves his chest. It’s got claws, it hurts on the exit.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie slowly raises his left palm and cups Steve’s right cheek. His other hand lands on Steve’s opposite bicep. He runs his hand up and down the arm in tender swipes. “Steve,” Eddie starts, his voice low and trapping—his words are almost congested. “Sweetheart, your feelings aren’t bullshit. You aren’t bullshit because you feel something. Especially something like love. You deserve to have that. And you deserve the possibility of reciprocating.”

“I love you so bad, Eddie,” Steve cries out. “It fucking terrifies me how much I do. And I—“ The sobs come easier now, rattling his whole body, crumpling him bit by bit. Eddie shuffles in and drags Steve to his chest. And over Eddie’s heart, Steve mutters, “I don’t know how to be normal.”

Eddie’s hand on his bicep moves to the back of Steve’s head. His other hand falling away to Steve’s shoulder. “I love you, too,” he murmurs. “It physically hurt to not have you near me. I thought that I fucked everything up, Stevie. I love you so much, it threatens to destroy me sometimes.”

Steve nuzzles in closer. Tentatively wrapping his arms around his middle. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Eddie whispers, “You don’t need to apologize. I understand, it’s alright.” He presses a chaste kiss to Steve’s head. His lips lingering. “Besides, I’m the most abnormal person fucking ever, sweetheart. Your love won’t chase me away. Never ever. You never have to be scared about loving me too much. I welcome it.”

“Okay,” Steve mutters, “I’m still sorry.”

Eddie sighs. “I know, love bug,” he whispers. “I know you are.” He moves his arm to wrap around Steve’s own torso, swiping his hand in one long, soothing stripe over his spine. Another kiss, this time to Steve’s temple. “Let’s order some pizza or something, alright? We’ll cuddle on the couch and calm down. I’m sorry for yelling at you. Sorry for assuming the worst. I just love you so much and I know you love me, too—I couldn’t come up with a single reason why you’d stop.”

“I don’t think I can stop, which is also scary. But—Like a good fear? It gives me adrenaline.”

Eddie’s chest vibrates with his laughter. Bright in the otherwise gloomy and dark place Steve’s found himself in. “Don’t you ever stop,” he demands. “I want your love all the time. I’ll tell you if something bugs me, alright? Don’t go assuming. Because I love you, Stevie. I love you so much.”

Steve pulls back, face pointed up at Eddie’s. He matches his soft smile. “I love you, too. Let’s get some pepperoni pizza, though. Because I am fucking hungry.” He squeezes his arms around Eddie. “Hungry for you, too.” And he saunters away.

In return, he hears Eddie shout after him, “You better make do on that! I missed you too much for you to tease me!”

Maybe he should learn to just trust his gut. To just admit what he’s feeling. Because it seems, if he’s honest about it the first time, good things happen in return.

💕—————💕 Gotta be honest, this isn't my best work. I've been feeling pretty mucky recently and nearly didn't have the energy to write. But I think this suffices.

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst #hurt/comfort #arguing #apologzing #making up #steddielovemonth #day 18

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