#I see Steve as needing alone time but hating the quiet that comes with it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matchingbatbites · 3 months

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Happy Valentine's, all. <3

Eddie doesn't want to be making this call. Literally the last thing he wants to be doing is making this specific phone call, but he'll be damned if he lets his asshole of a roommate get away with this.

After a moment the ringing stops, and a voice says "Hello?"

"Uh, hi, is this Steve?"

"It is, who is this?"

"It's Eddie, Jake's roommate? I got your number from him." Well, from his phone when he'd left it unattended one day, but Steve doesn't need to know the details. "I really, really hate to be making this call, especially the day before Valentine's, but uh. Jake is cheating on you."

The line is silent for a moment before he hears a weak "What?"

Eddie's eyes squeeze shut at the heartbreak he can hear in that single word. He hates that he's doing this, but knows it needs to be done, for Steve's sake.

"I got home from work not too long ago, and heard him with some girl in his room. I took a video, if you want proof, but I just- I thought you deserved to know."

There's a bit of shuffling on Steve's end, along with a soft sniffle. "I, uh. I don't need the video. I believe you. I'm not all that surprised, if I'm honest."

He huffs a laugh, the sound so self-deprecating that it makes Eddie's stomach twist in empathy. "Guess that makes me three-for-three on my long-term partners cheating. I'm starting to wonder what the fuck is wrong with me."

That last part is softer, like Steve was speaking to himself, but Eddie hears it and frowns, because- because Steve is lovely. He can tell that Steve is beautiful inside and out, always kind with just enough sass to make him so fun to be around.

He's always makes sure to talk to Eddie every time he comes over, even if it's just a simple greeting or goodbye, and whenever he cooks at their apartment - because he's a great cook - he always makes enough for Eddie to have some as well.

It feels wrong to hear Steve talk like this, like there's something about him that needs to be fixed. Like his previous partners were right to abuse his love and trust, instead of treating them like the treasures Eddie knows they are.

Before Eddie can speak out to reassure him, the man continues. "Thank you for telling me Eddie. Spending Valentine's alone is gonna suck, but I guess that's better than spending it with someone who doesn't care about me."

"Spend it with me."

Eddie isn't sure where the request comes from, but as soon as it leaves his mouth, it's all he wants.

Steve gives a soft "Huh?" and Eddie repeats it, "Spend it with me. A boy as pretty as you shouldn't be cooped up inside on a day like Valentine's. Let me take you out, try to salvage it for you at least a little."

Steve goes quiet, and for a solid ten seconds, Eddie is sure that he's about to be rejected.

And then Steve says "Jake was supposed to pick me up at 6:30 tomorrow. I'll come by yours at six instead, so I can break up with him before we leave. Is that okay?"

A sigh of relief, and Eddie slumps into the wall behind him. "Sounds perfect, Stevie. Wear something nice, but casual, okay?"

"I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow, Eddie. And thanks again."

Jake comes across Eddie the next evening as he's packing the last of the food into a bag. He's spent the last hour or so getting it ready, making sure it's all perfect even though it's nothing too complicated.

A meat and cheese plate with some fancy crackers, a jar of the pickled asparagus he's recently become addicted to, a bowl of diced fruit and a box of fancy chocolates he'd splurged on.

He'd even dropped money on a bouquet of roses, and he already has a few comfy blankets and pillows packed into the back of the van. Everything perfect and ready to go. When Jake sees his preparations, he lets out a low whistle.

"Wow, Eddie. Trying to impress someone?"

Eddie shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Yep. It's our first date, so I want it to be special. Didn't wanna go the usual, boring, fancy restaurant route."

He's sure that's what Jake had planned for himself and Steve, and it's confirmed by the way his nose wrinkles. "There's nothing wrong with spending money on your date, Eddie. If you have the money to spend, that is."

Jesus Christ, Eddie can't wait to move out of this fucking place, and away from this fucking asswipe.

"Anyway, I've gotta go pick up Steve soon, and I'm planning on bringing him back here tonight, so maybe see if you can crash with your date, yeah?"

"Sure thing-" Eddie replies, though he's interrupted by the sound of a knock ringing through the apartment. He grins wide, knowing exactly who it is. "That must be my date. Can you grab that while I finish up here?"

Jake rolls his eyes but complies, and Eddie freezes in place, not daring to make a sound so he can hear whatever interaction is about to happen.

The door opens, and he hears Jake's confused "Steve? What are you doing here? I'm supposed to be-"

"Yeah, we're not doing anything anymore. Ever again, actually."

God, Steve sounds so bitchy, and Eddie fucking loves it. He grabs the bag of food and the bouquet of roses from the counter, glad that he got dressed beforehand, and makes his way to the entry.

"What are you saying, Steve?"

"I'm saying that we're over, Jake. Maybe you can call the girl you fucked last night and take her to dinner instead."

Eddie turns the corner in time to see Jake's stunned expression, clearly not expecting Steve to throw that at him. He takes a moment to bask in the fire burning behind hazel eyes, until they slide to him and that fire vanishes, replaced with something sparkling and delighted.

"Hi, Eddie," Steve says, his demeanor changing like the flip of a switch, and Eddie beams. He steps closer and offers the bouquet of roses, along with a "Happy Valentine's, Stevie."

The money Eddie spent on the flowers was worth it to see the blush that floods Steve's face as he reaches out to take them.

"Oh, thank you. That's really sweet of you."

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

Eddie and Steve both turn to look at a very petulant and confused Jake, and Steve just smiles. "Well, you just got dumped, and my Valentine is about to take me on a date."

It takes a moment, but something must finally click, because Jake's face goes red with rage. Eddie just grabs Steve's arm, guiding him out of the apartment before the man can actually do something.

"So what's the plan?" Steve asks as he takes Eddie's hand, lacing their fingers together as Eddie leads him to his van.

"Well, uh. The next town over still has a drive in theater, and they're showing some old romance movies tonight. The drive to get there is pretty nice, and we'll actually have some time to talk, and then- I have some blankets and pillows in the back of the van, and I brought food so we can do a picnic during the movies. I mean, if- if that sounds good to you."

Steve's eyes are sparkling again as Eddie rambles, and he squeezes their hands in delight. "That sounds perfect, Eds."

By the time Eddie gets home late that night, he's learned two things:

The first is that Steve had already been debating on breaking up with Jake before this whole fiasco, but the thing stopping him was that he actually likes being around Eddie, and he thought wanting to hang out with his ex-boyfriend's roommate would be too weird.

The second thing Eddie's learned is that Steve's smile tastes like dark chocolate and sunshine, and kissing him might just be Eddie's new favorite hobby.

(Eddie does eventually show the video to Steve, just to reassure him that he didn't break them up so Eddie could date him instead. The only comment Steve makes is "She's definitely faking, his dick game isn't that good.")

#i didn't plan on writing over 1k for valentine's #but here we are #steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie au #steve harrington #eddie munson #joey writes

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mrsbarnesblog · 7 months

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Bucky Barnes Masterlist

ko-fi ao3

⭐️ - personal favorite

❤️‍🔥 - smut

🩷 - fluff

🖤 - angst

⭐️❤️‍🔥Jersey - College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected. (3.2k)

⭐️❤️‍🔥Push Him - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR Manager! Reader

When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you. (6.8k.)

⭐️❤️‍🔥Stay quiet for me - Modern! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky fucks you while your parents sleep in the next room. (1.6k)

❤️‍🔥Little games - Gamer! Bucky Barnes x Reader

You really need to calm down, so you get under Bucky's table while he's playing with his friends. (1.4k)

🩷Sandcastles - CEO! Husband! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky is always working overtime, but when his best girls really need him, he leaves everything behind just to make you happy. (1.6k)

❤️‍🔥 New purchase - Mob! Bucky Barnes x Reader

You just got a new expensive lingerie set and decided to tease your mafia boss boyfriend with some sexy pictures. (2.3k)

⭐️❤️‍🔥 Firewood - Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader

When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help. (4.8k)

🩷 I can't let you get hurt - Brother's best friend! Bucky Barnes x Reader

You have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend. (3.3k)

❤️‍🔥 Don't hide - Mechanic! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Somehow you ended up in a storage room with one of your dad's mechanics. (1.8k)

🩷 My everything - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader

The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before. (6.8k)

⭐️🩷Personal pillow - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader

You confront avengers when they start teasing Bucky about being too soft. (1.6k)

⭐️🩷 I trust you - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader

When Bucky comes back from a mission with a knife wound there is only one person who can convince him to get help. (3.5k)

⭐️🩷 You deserve the world - College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

You were in a relationship with a man who had never truly cared about you, but after catching him cheating on you at a friend's party, you eventually decided to end things with him. The good news was that there was always someone who wasn't going to let you go through it alone. (4.6k)

🩷 Barbie - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky takes his best girl to watch a Barbie movie and then spoils her with gifts. (1.3k)

❤️‍🔥 Wakanda - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Reader

You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out. (2.7k)

Requests

We could've done it earlier - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader

When one of the new recruits started following you around and being too persistent, Bucky decided to help you by kissing you right in front of that guy. Though he didn't realize that he wouldn't be able to stop. (2.3k)

Night - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader

You wandered around the Tower at night because you couldn't sleep. In the common room, you find Bucky sitting in the dark and decide to share an ice cream pint with him.

Snowman - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader

When the first snow of the year had just covered the whole of New York City, you tried to convince Bucky to play outside with you. He couldn't find the power in himself to say no to you, even if it's his least favorite time of the year.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #marvel #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes masterlist

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary steve likes you, eddie munson's best friend, to the point of heart palpitations. you feel the same way about him [6k]

warnings fluff, getting together, mutual pining, first kiss, first date, eddie munson is a good friend, steve is hopeless, fem!reader, reader is hellfire club adjacent, reader is an overthinker and steve is a softie, pre-s4 post-s3, no s4 spoilers besides eddie + hellfire club existing

𓆩❤︎𓆪

The first time Steve sees you he's smitten.

You're sitting on the stoop of Eddie Munson's trailer. Coolest girl he's ever seen – and Steve doesn't go for the edgy type. Crazy cool clothes, hair all messy pretty and your eyes edged in dark makeup, you're fiddling with the cassette player in your lap, brows pinched in frustration.

Steve can't look long. He's dropping the lunch club off for some impromptu Hellfire gathering. The kids pile out, eager to see their new (no, Steve isn't bitter) friend with a chorus of rushed, half-hearted thank you's.

You push the headphones off of your ears as his kids approach.

"Hey, Y/N," they say, one by one as they enter the trailer and disappear from sight.

Steve is two seconds from leaving, swears, when he hears Lucas ask how you are.

"You know," you say, voice quiet and immediately intoxicating. Steve watches as you slowly push two fingers between your shiny lips and pretend to blow your brains out. You drop on your back and lie there for a moment, chest rising with easy, breezy laughter. The sound draws heat to his cheeks, worse the sight of your naked thighs.

He's hooked. He has to leave quickly, before you sit back up and indoctrinate him with your looks alone.

The next time he sees you is similar and not. You're sitting on the ground outside the movie theatre. Again, Steve is playing taxi cab for his doofuses, though this time the thank you's are slightly kinder, louder - he'd blown off a girl he didn't stand much chance with in the first place to bring them.

"Love you!" Dustin calls, slamming the passenger door.

You drop the cassette player in your hands and lean your head back against Eddie's thigh. Steve takes a few seconds to realise you're looking at him, head tilting this way and that to catch a glance at him through people's legs.

"Who's your friend?" he hears you ask Mike.

Mike doesn't even look. "Who? Steve? He's my sister's ex-boyfriend."

You smile at him. Steve, hating to be caught but not stupid enough to blush, nods at you through the window before turning the key. It's the suavest thing he's ever done and he's still applauding himself when you approach his window. He hadn't noticed you get up, distracted by triumph.

You knock the window. He rolls it down.

"Hi," you say.

"Hey," he says back. Then, cautiously, "You need something?"

You smell like a lot of things as you duck your head into his car. Mica and perfume and, softer, talc. Hairspray. Something else, wet like ink. He can't help looking at your make up, the rhinestones under your lower lashes, the shiny sticky pink on your lips.

"Steve," you say. He likes the way you say his name, confident, like you've always known it. You smile softly, at ends with your Joan Jett-esque levels of cool. "Do you wanna come see the movie?" Then, in what marks the beginning of the end, "With me?"

He knows he should play it out. Plus, he's startled. "I don't know, I'm just here to drop them off."

"It's okay if you have plans," you say. He catches a sneak of your tongue pressed behind - what he perhaps insanely thinks of as - cute teeth. You're talking to him in this lilting cadence that has him pinned. "But you drove all the way here, so if you're not busy…"

He pretends to consider.

"What movie?" he asks.

You bring a hand to your neck and secure a small silver pendant between your neatly lacquered nails. "Uh, it's called Day of the Dead. S'about zombies," you tell him. The way you say zombies - your voice goes high and airy, your lips move slow like they're catching up to the word, your eyebrows raised up. Eyes wide. He wants to play it back.

"Please?" you ask when he fails to reply.

He thinks he has to be dreaming. Or drugged again. Definitely drugged.

"Sure," he hears himself say, though he can't remember thinking about it.

You don't smile like he expects. You make a sound, a happy inhale, your eyes light up but your lips stay straight.

Steve thinks you might be nervous.

And sure, he can be a jerk but he's not a total douchebag. He gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile and gets out of his car, locking the doors to follow you to the ticket stand. Closer now, Steve can't work you out: half dreamy, half fidgeting.

Your boots thud up carpeted stairs into the auditorium, the lights already down, previews blaring.

There's two empty seats next to Eddie. In the dark you catch the hem of his jacket between your fingers and pull him behind you.

His heart skips.

Eddie, in what Steve thinks of as his most mature greeting to date, nods at him and then turns to you curiously. "You okay?" he asks seriously.

"I'm perfect, Eds. Did we miss any good previews?" you ask, sitting heavily beside your friend and stealing a big handful of popcorn out of his lap.

Eddie only chuckles. "Nothing you'd like."

You nod and then turn to Steve shyly. "Sorry we didn't get snacks," you whisper. You offer your hand to him, full of popcorn.

He shakes his head. You look embarrassed but not surprised, tipping your head back to polish off your handful.

"You went to Hawkins High?" you ask with your hand over your mouth.

"I did. You didn't?"

"I did," you correct gently, wiping your hand on your thigh. "I graduated two years ago. When Eddie should have."

That makes more sense, though Steve's sorry he doesn't remember you. He was a little obsessed with Nance at the time.

"Do you work?" he asks.

You smile like you're about tell him a big secret, edging forward. Your arms brushes his arm on the rest between chairs. "You can't tell anyone."

"On my honour," he says, eyes wide, terrified you're a mercenary or worse, a cold caller.

"I desk at the library," you say.

He blinks. You giggle and Eddie shushes you, already sounding defeated. Chastened, you drop your voice to a barely perceptible level.

"I know, I don't look the type."

"No," he says, too loud, receiving several disgruntled glares. "No, you- Well, maybe you don't. But I don't look like I worked at Scoops Ahoy all summer, so…"

You slap a ring-laden hand over your shiny pout and try to smother a laugh. Bracelets slide down your wrist. "You do! You do look like you worked there," you say joyfully.

He can't find it in him to be offended.

You're milder as you settle back into your seat. A preview passes. You clear your throat.

"I'm sorry," you say, sounding worried, "if that was cruel. I get mixed up. I know- I mean, I don't know, but the Starcourt thing. That must've been awful."

Your words stick together like taffy. He releases you as quickly as he can.

"Hey, don't be sorry," he says, scoffing lighty. He readjusted where he's sitting, crossing his arms over his chest. "Doesn't matter." It's not like you'd meant anything by it.

You look less peaky but still hesitant.

"Would you believe me if I told you the worst part of my job was the uniform?" he jokes, wanting to put you at ease again.

"Was it really so bad?" you murmur, your lips slowly curving up into a smile.

"There was a mandated hat."

You laugh. People shush you aggressively. Steve feels something close to magnetism at the sound, and wants to make you do it again.

"Where do you work now?" you whisper as the movie begins.

"Video store by the arcade."

"Family Video?" you ask. He nods, looking down at your hands in your lap, your fingers. Your legs are shaking, minute trembling. You twist one of your rings around your fingers and he wonders what's making you nervous.

"That's the one."

You bend in close, so close he thinks he can smell your shampoo. Dusky, rosewater. Sweet.

"Maybe I can come see you. You can recommend me something."

"Sure," he says, too loud. Somebody coughs, though the cough sounds suspiciously like dickwad.

You watch Day of the Dead, stealing popcorn all the while. You pop the lid off of Eddie's drink and take sneaky sips, and your friend flicks your upper arm when you get greedy. In response, your bashful, peeling laughter.

"Fine, I'll get my own drink. You want one?" you ask Steve, standing with your back bent, necklace dipping down in the space between you. He follows it, looks accidentally straight at your chest and then back up, guilty and blushing. "Steve?" you ask.

"I'll come with you," he says, desperate to escape the dark, the warmth.

Steve follows you down the red, trodden carpet and back into the main body of the theatre, an atrium with high glass windows and wooden beams. It smells old, like dust. The sky is dark now, night eating up every bit of natural light. White cat eyes beam from the movie theatre's floors to guide you to the snack station, a brighter, well stocked haven of greasy foods and cold drinks.

You stand in front of the popcorn machine. It paints your skin with a golden yellow shine, like the sun. You're very quiet as you open your clutch, pulling out hair pins and chapstick and a lone cotton pad before you find your purse, a battered leather pouch embossed with hearts. He tries not to fill the silence, digging for his wallet in his pocket. He gets a too big coke and you deliberate over slurpee flavours, eventually asking for a mix.

"It's so quiet out here," you murmur around your straw.

"Like Family Video on a Friday," he agrees.

"Isn't Friday, like, one of your busiest nights?"

"Yep."

A burst of surprised giggles. Steve hides his smile with a cough, 'cos he's cool.

You pull the straw from your cup and lick it clean, digging for a certain flavour though he's not sure which, still laughing to yourself. Steve takes the initiative and leads you back up the stairs and to your seat, catching your jacket in his hand before you can walk down the wrong row.

You smile gratefully, your lips stained blue and red.

You're sitting on the pavement outside of Family Video. Steve can see your back, your hair.

He wonders why you're here, if it's to see him, and then if you're okay, and feels bad for thinking in that order.

"Robin," he says loudly, reluctant to tear his eyes from you lest you disappear like a shoddy apparition.

"Steven."

"Not correct."

"What, idiot?" Robin asks, picking her head up from the book stretched open in her lap. She sits up and her back clicks loudly.

Steve sighs in disgust. "That's gross, you know? You'll get, like, arthritis."

"You think arthritis is gross? Not cool, Steven."

"No, I meant them as two separate things. Gross to hear you click, and that the clicking will give you arthritis," he explains, exasperated. He runs a hand through his hair.

"That's a myth."

A long pause where Steve watches your back moving, how you're leaning forward towards the sun bleached tarmac.

"What?" he asks suddenly, turning from you finally to stare in disbelief at his best friend.

Robin is more than prepared to fight her cause, the leaves of her book closed around her hand like she'd been waiting for him to ask. She probably had been.

"It's a myth. Clicking your bones doesn't give you arthritis. The clicking sound is fluid moving- Are you even listening to me?"

Steve has dropped his head into his hands. He spreads his fingers wide so Robin can see his eyes. "Robin, we have more important things at hand."

"Like what? Keith's laundry?"

"Like Y/N is sitting outside right now!" he shouts, and then cringes. You don't show any sign of having heard him. He continues in a strangled whisper, "She's been out there for like, five minutes!"

Robin kicks up off of her stool to stand at Steve's side, up on tiptoes to see over the vinyl on the windows. She's listened to his inane rambling and insecure, badly disguised yearning all week, but hasn't had a face to a name until now. She makes a sound of approval like she can understand why Steve has been so wound up about you.

"Why's she on the floor?"

"She does that."

"Oh," Robin says, chin jutting up. "Are you gonna go talk to her?"

He wants to. Dreadfully. Intensely wants to.

"Or I could go talk to her," Robin offers, wrists touching. She rubs them together. Steve ignores her mischievous, shit-eating grin.

"Sure, Robs, you talk to her. Stun her with your stellar people skills."

Robin's lips push, as close as she's ever come to pouting. "Cruel."

"Yet accurate."

"If you're so amazing, why don't you go talk to her, hot shot? Woo her! Chop-chop."

Steve steels his nerves because even if he is about to make a huge fool of himself he's slightly worried about your on-the-ground position. Not unusual for you, but still.

"Are you okay?" he asks as he emerges.

You turn to Steve like you're unsurprised that he's there and offer your headphones to him. "Put these on?"

"Are you okay?" he asks again, voice not dissimilar to when he's bossing around the kids.

You hold the headphones to your chest and dip your chin. "Steve, I'm fine. Please?" you ask, offering them to him.

He puts on the headphones, bent at the waist for the wire to reach your cassette player. He quickly discovers the source of your unhappiness – the tape sounds bloated. Distorted.

"The tapes messed up," he says.

You shake your head with patience, though he can tell from your expression this isn't the first time you've explained it. "It's not the tape, it's the player."

Steve's back gives a twinge. I'm an old man, he thinks in horror, standing up straight with your headphones back in his hands.

"You drop it?" he asks expectantly.

You only frown more, looking generally put out. "No, I took great care of her. Scout's honor."

Steve sighs and decides to take the leap, sitting down beside you on the sidewalk. There's a small dip where the parking lot starts and he stretches one leg out across it, hand on his knee, the other across his abdomen.

"Can't one of your nerd club fix it?" he asks.

"I'm not actually in Hellfire Club, you know."

He didn't. "You can't ask? Eddie must've learned something at school after this many years. By accident. Like… osmosis."

"Eddie's on his third try for a reason," you say, picking at a small ladder in your tights on the side of your calf. You're wearing socks, too, peeking up just over the edge of your thick bottomed boots.

"You know Dustin?" he asks after a patch of silence he would find awkward with anyone who wasn't you. You make it peaceful, in a way. "He could take a look. He went to science camp and built, like, the world's strongest radio."

He can't tell if you're listening. Your eyes are trained on the sidewalk, its crack, and the weeds growing between them. There's a wet snapping sound.

You hold a small yellow flower between your fingers.

"A creeping buttercup," you tell him. You push your palm flat in the space between you both and lean towards him. "Do you like butter?"

"Do I- Yeah, sure, I like butter. Who doesn't?"

You lick your lips. "Mind if I check?" you ask him.

"Is that a trick question?"

"Steve," you say, chiding. You tilt your head to your shoulder and the breeze kisses your hair, ruffling soft strands as you hold the flower under his chin intently. He feels frozen.

"You love butter," you say, nodding like what you just said makes sense.

"Are you sure you're okay? Didn't hit your head on the way here?"

"Here. Hold it under my chin," you tell him, offering him the flower. You twirl its stem, though you stop when he moves to take it.

Steve feels like an idiot as he holds it by your neck.

"Closer," you say softly, lifting your head.

Steve raises his eyebrows but keeps his skepticism to himself. To his surprise, when the flower is close enough to your skin, a small patch of yellow light appears, gauzy around the edges.

"What the fuck…"

You lower your chin, your faces closer than Steve had realised. You look straight into his eyes. "It's a reflection of the light. 'Cos it's clear out."

He feels out of his element no matter how captivating he finds you – he can't get to grips with it. His silence quickly deters you; you look away from his face and your lips pull into a pout as you bite your bottom lip. You bend at the waist and mess with your shoelaces.

"Did you wanna come inside?" he asks, trying to fix whatever it is he did. Girls are complicated.

You cheer up a bit.

"Do you have anything like Day of the Dead?"

He has no clue.

"Sure we do," he says confidently.

He stands up fast and offers his hand. You take it, your palm smooth and cool in his, admittedly warmer and slightly calloused. He hopes the ease with which he pulls you up is impressive, then feels stupid for thinking that. You squeeze his fingers before you let go and follow him into Family Video.

"So, what? You like him?" Eddie asks you from above, cross-legged on his bed. Denim jacket nowhere to be seen, he sits in a t-shirt with the sleeves hacked off, tattoos on clear display, stark against his pale skin.

"Don't be jealous, Eds," you say mildly.

He crawls to the edge of the bed to look down at you where you lie on his floor. His hair tickles your nose and you hold in a sneeze.

"Nice face," he says.

"I think he likes me."

"Why wouldn't he? You're cool."

You stare at your best friend's earnest face. "You know why."

"No, I don't."

You close your eyes, head dipping to your shoulder. You can't hide from him, though you've tried. Your arms cross over your tummy in a self-hug.

The ground is cold. His uncle's trailer is always cold, frigid in the winter. Minimal insulation and no A/C. You rub your face into the scratchy rug beneath you and sigh morosely, suddenly overcome with a pinching misery.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Eddie says seriously.

"I don't think I can do it." It hurts to say, though you know Eddie won't judge you.

"What? Have a boyfriend?"

You nod. The mattress creaks as he moves. You're expecting his touch, though his cold finger flicking you square in the forehead startles you anyway. Your eyes jump open. You flinch up into a sitting position and rub your head.

"Shithead."

"Stop doubting yourself."

"I get so messed up. I'm a bad friend, I wouldn't- I wouldn't be a good girlfriend," you mutter, bringing your knees to your chest. You hide in them.

"You don't get messed up," he says.

"I'm stupid."

"Y/N," he says, dragging your name out sternly. "Here, come sit with me. I won't flick you again, promise."

You rub your eyes, smudging your makeup and stand reluctantly to flop onto his bed, his rumpled sheets a lump under your back. Eddie pulls your necklace from where it has ridden up your neck and drops it down the valley of your chest absent-mindedly.

"You're not stupid," he says gently. "And you don't get 'messed up'. You're overthinking things."

"I'm not," you argue. "I'm an idiot, and I say the wrong things, and maybe he does like me but it won't last long."

You didn't have an easy time in school. Eddie knows this, lived it with you, and he's blamed it a thousand times for your low self-esteem. Ever understanding, he hums to himself skeptically and grabs your shoulder, giving you a good shake. He doesn't stop until you're laughing.

"I'm trying to shake some sense into you," he confides. "You're really fucking cool. And I'm not just saying that because you've been copying me since middle school, you're really cool."

"Cool," you repeat.

"Awesome."

You run the chain of your necklace through your fingers and feel the links skip over your skin, frowning.

"I thought for sure he'd ask me out by now."

"Maybe you should ask him."

"He probably thinks I'm, like, a creepy stalker."

"Creepy, maybe. Stalker? For what? Visiting him at work? That's friendly." You're overthinking things, he doesn't say.

"I left him my phone number," you admit, whispering. "But he hasn't called me."

"Babe, you're always fucking here. Did you check your machine?"

Obsessively. "Yeah."

Eddie throws himself down and kicks his legs over your tummy, to your annoyance. He ponders and you sulk, the rough sounds of Black Sabbath playing in the background.

"You've only met him a few times, right?"

Right. The movies, the video store, once when you'd bumped into him at the arcade and a couple of times when he'd checked out books at the library.

Eddie smiles as you tell him. "The library?"

"Yeah."

"He's visiting you at work?"

You think back to the last time you'd seen him, all of ten minutes across the desk with your clean library uniform and your neat hair. You finally cracked and asked him if he thought it suited you better.

"You look great," Steve had said, smiling lopsided, "but I miss your pretty gems. Oh, we have Friday the 13th back in. I kept it for you..."

"No, he's visiting the library," you say.

Eddie chuckles, his deep, teasing laugh. "And before you met, you saw him in there a lot, huh?"

"Well, no."

"So it's a coincidence that he found out where you work and he's suddenly an academic?"

"Shut up, Eddie," you plead, covering your face with your hands.

"Fine, whatever, we'll stop talking about it. Wanna paint my nails?"

"No."

You get up and paint his nails. You've done one hand pretty well when there's the sound of a car parking outside. Eddie turns down the stereo and you stare at each other curiously, listening for clues.

"Your uncle?"

"No. Probably for someone else."

Instantly disproved, there's a knock at the door, breaking up the silence. Eddie sighs dramatically and climbs over your legs to answer, his footsteps clumsy. "Yeah, coming," he calls. You stand and peer around the doorway, waiting to see who it is.

Eddie opens the door. "Harrington," he says, surprised, vaguely disgusted. "The munchkins aren't here."

"No, I know. I'm looking for Y/N."

You feel a stab of excitement right to your heart and scramble for Eddie's mirror, looking over your face and outfit with something close to terror looming – you're in an old band t-shirt covered in hair-dye from Eddie's red and pink phase and a skirt that's too short. You pull it down to make sure everything is properly covered.

"Yeah, she's here," Eddie says, though the door creaks as he closes it slightly, his voice a fraction from intimidating as he asks, "Who's asking?"

"Me?" Steve asks.

Your socks slide over linoleum in your rush to stop Eddie from being a total dick, edging him out of the way with your hip. He doesn't budge. You shove him with a huff and smile at Steve, trying to calm your pounding heart.

"Steve, hi."

"Hey," he looks over your shoulder. You turn, see Eddie standing there looking unimpressed. He waves. You glare at him fiercely and step over the threshold, shutting the door behind you.

You don't second guess as you take Steve's wrist into your hand, pulling him down the steps and into the short grass to make sure Eddie can't eavesdrop. It's damp under your socks.

Steve looks hot. You're a simple girl, you won't deny that. His hair looks more windblown than usual, lazy strands falling into his face. His eyes are serious, light brown and edged in straight lashes you would count if he let you, brows slightly lifted. You realise he's taking you in as you do the same and feel self conscious, shifting from foot to foot.

"Sorry, I look weird. I didn't-" you bite your tongue. I didn't know you were coming, you'd almost said, but of course you didn't, and telling him you would've dressed up if he was coming might scare him off.

Any anxiety you'd had is soothed as he takes your hand, still loosely clasped around his wrist, and squeezes the centre of your palm with his thumb.

"Are you kidding?" he asks, hand moving down, thumb rubbing over your pulse point. "You look beautiful. Don't worry about it."

His nonchalance trips you up. You can feel your heart in your mouth, like a hummingbird on your tongue.

"What did… what did you wanna ask me?" you stammer.

Steve drops your hand. "I tried calling, but I figured you'd be here. Uh, so-" he laughs, pulling a hand through his hair before dipping into the pocket of his jacket. You watch his arms then his hands.

"I got these," he says, pulling two tickets from his pocket. White and a third red, he offers them to you. You take them, enough adrenaline running through you that your hands are shaking and you struggle to read what they say.

Steve jumps in. "I know you really liked Day of the Dead. They're doing a showing in Indianapolis, one of those fancy theatre's where everyone dresses up as zombies, and like, they throw fake guts on you. Or something."

"Oh," you murmur. Awesome, you think. Oh my god. "That's sick."

"Right?"

"And you…"

"I want you to go with me. I want to take you," he says firmly. "On a date."

"A date."

"It's Friday. I'll pick you up, we'll drive there in the morning. Hang around, we can go wherever you want for dinner, see the sights."

"This is before or after we dress up like zombies?" you ask, hiding a huge smile.

Steve blushes, let it be written, his cheeks red. He sounds frustrated as he says, "Right, not my best idea. Before? We can get ready in the car," his voice fades before he finishes. "That's not a good idea."

He starts on a self deprecating waffle that you can't allow. You press the tickets to your chest, way too happy. "This is pretty cool."

"You think so?" he asks quickly, strung out.

"Yeah," you say fondly.

"Oh."

You almost step on his toes as you kiss his hot cheek. He smells nice. You set back on your heels and linger, trying to work out what his cologne smells like. Something fresh, not quite lemony.

You get a bit dizzy and carried away, stroking the curve of his arm with the back of your hand. Steve makes a sound like a hiccup and you remember yourself, stepping away bashfully, afraid to meet his eyes.

"So," Steve says, sounding relieved. Excited. "You'll go?"

"Yeah. It sounds awesome."

"It's a date," he says.

You tell him your address and he promises to call you to smooth out all the details but he really has to go to work. You climb back up the stairs and close the door almost all the way, watching as Steve gets in his car through the crack. He sits motionless for a bit before he fist pumps the air, says, "Yes! Ugh, yes. Still got it. Still got it, Hawkins."

You close the door.

"Ew, you look happy. Harrington cop a feel?" Eddie says.

"Something like that."

You're running down a dark alleyway with Steve's hand in yours. He's almost dragging you. Dude runs fast.

"I ran track!" he tells you helpfully.

You can't help the breathless laughing as you go, nervous and humming with energy. You'd both been having a great time at dinner and lost track of time, and now it's twenty minutes until doors open for Day of the Dead and neither of you look particularly lifeless.

You almost slam into the back door of his BMW, scrambling inside. Steve is quick behind you, upending the bag with your change of clothes onto the back seat. Your makeup and fake blood tumble out after it. He reaches up to turn on the overhead light.

"Fuck," Steve says, face carved in shadow. "Fuck. We don't have time."

"Sure we do," you say, tugging your shirt off quickly. Steve looks pointedly away once he notices your predicament. You chuckle. "Steve, just get changed. I don't care if you look."

"I'm a gentleman," he insists, rushing, the two of you folding and bumping into each other in a hurry to get dressed into your old clothes.

You catch flashes of his bare chest as he buttons down then buttons up, his legs, his thighs. You feel heat lick every stretch of skin you have at the sight. Oh, he's hairy, you think, and then have to slam your eyes shut to stop from thinking sick (completely normal, dirty) thoughts.

You pull your tights off of your ankles, blush at the idea of being sequestered in a car with him in your underwear, and leap to replace them with a pair of tight, pinstriped trousers, shrugging into them with great difficulty. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as you pull on your blouse, white for the best fake blood effect, buttoning up just enough to hide your bra.

Make up next. You want to look scary and, importantly, believable. You fish for the make up you'd brought and have managed to suitably brush up your dark eyes with purples to look bruised and sickly by the time Steve has finished redressing. He tightens the tie around his neck.

"You next," you say.

Steve hesitates. "I've never done any makeup before."

You don't blink. "That's okay. I'll do it for you, if you want me to."

Steve climbs closer over your discarded clothes, close enough to hear his breathing, still fast. You brush the hair out of his eyes and they find yours, the two of you sharing a private smile, though there's no one else around.

"Will you ruin my good looks?"

"You'll be a very handsome zombie," you promise.

You reach for his face.

"You need to get closer," you tell him, fingers hooked under his ear. You tilt his head to the light.

"I can't," he says.

You steel your nerves and grab onto his shoulder gently, anchoring yourself as you climb up into his lap. If he's surprised he doesn't show it, his big hands coming up to your waist. You can feel the heat of each finger clearly on your skin where he grips you and the heat of his thighs like a furnace underneath yours. You try not to brush against him, standing up on your knees.

You use your fingers, rubbing them gently in the powder shadows and then over his silky skin. Big stripes of purple, a wash of yellow around his pretty eyes. He closes them as you dab a dark red under his eyelashes. You grow closer still, your breath fanning over his face. His hand skips respectably over your back and down to your thigh, holding you up. It's helpful. It's torture. You try not to breathe too loudly.

"You have really soft skin," you say, using your thumb to spread dark contour under his cheekbone, one side of his face gaunt.

You cover your work with your hand as his eyes open.

"Yeah?" he asks.

This closeness. Suddenly, abruptly, the feelings you're trying to push down rear their heads, and the heat becomes hard to ignore.

"Yeah," you murmur, thumb under his eye. He looks ridiculous. You know you look the same.

"Am I done?" he asks. His hand squeezes your thigh as he adjusts his hold.

"Not quite," you say.

You finish his makeup in silence. Time slows. You forget that you're late, content to feel his features under your hands, to learn the planes and dips of his face for the first time like this. You tuck his hair behind his ears carefully, smoothing back his hairline.

He's looking up at you. You sit down in his lap and he moves his hands to behind your back, his head following you down intently. He looks serious.

You draw your hand from his face and drop it onto his thigh, your rings brushing over starchy slacks.

It's his turn to touch you. Steve's hand comes to your face, his broad palm over the entirety of your cheek. You wait for something though you're not sure what, frozen with apprehension, simply watching him take you in.

"Do I look scary?" you ask, eyes on his lips.

They part before he answers, like he knows what he's going to say before he says it. "Horrifying," he murmurs wryly, hand gently pulling your face towards his.

You lift your chin to meet his lips, the muscles of his forearms shifting against your chest as he cups your face in both hands, guiding you to him. Your lips touch, tentative at first, one small kiss that feels more than warm, a homely, perfect fit. He pulls back and you don't, tapping the tip of his nose with yours until he opens his mouth.

You sneak in as his hand runs down your neck, your arm, slow and sleek. He makes a small sound as he takes the lead, opening you up, and it tickles your lips with its vibrations. He sounds content. You're feeling similarly happy, grabbing at his hand where it holds your face, squeezing his wrist to hold it in place as you push yourself into his arms. He takes you eagerly, pulling you chest to chest.

His head bumps the window. You pull apart, panting and happy and giggling, your lips damp and tingling. Steve rubs the back of his head, looking at you with an expression you can't describe.

"What?" you ask, wiping at his bottom lip with your thumb where your lipstick has stained him.

"How come you're so pretty, even like this?"

"Like this, a zombie?" Steve nods slowly. "Let me know when you find out, Harrington."

He pulls you back in with a smirk that sets your tummy aflame. "You think I'm pretty?" he asks, lips a millimetre from yours.

"Super pretty," you say, and kiss him. He loves on your top lip like you've got all the time in the world, kisses warm and slick. "Almost as pretty as me," you say between them.

He slows your kisses, gives you one last peck over your burning mouth. "No one's as pretty as you," he says agreeably.

You beam. Steve beams back though it quickly fades as he brings his arm up to check his watch.

"We're so late," he says, manhandling you off of his lap with an apologetic grimace. "C'mon, we still gotta cover you in blood."

You both get out and Steve sprays you down with fake blood. You laugh as he does, the cold liquid tickling your skin as it trickles down your face and your chest and your tummy.

Steve takes his own bloodying with far less laughter though he smiles at your glee. He's so handsome you can't help it, stepping into his space for another kiss. There's blood on your lips, evidently, as it transfers to his.

"We need to go," you say, like it's his fault.

"Wait. I have something for you."

Steve opens the driver's side and takes a small object from under the seat. He hands it to you.

"I called in a favour. Dustin and Lucas fixed it up, I checked, like, ten tapes. It works."

In your hands the bane of your existence, your faulty Walkman. There's a fake blood mark in the shape of his thumbprint on the side and you decide you're going to leave it there forever, looking to him with a completely uncool amount of affection.

"Steve," you say happily, a heat behind your eyes.

"I got sick of seeing you pouting, that's all," he says hotly, crossing his arm over his chest. "Now you can stop sulking."

You throw your hands around his neck to hug him tightly, the Walkman pressed to his neck. He oomphs, hands flying to your sides. Your face against his shoulder, you curl a strand of his brown hair around one of your fingers. "Thank you." You dot a corn syrup kiss against his throat. "You're the coolest," you say as you pull away.

His hands move from around your back to your shoulders, holding you at arms length. "People have said that about me."

"I bet."

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thanks for reading! | my masterlist

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader blurb #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #eddie munson x reader platonic

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crazyunsexycool · 4 months

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

word count: 1.0k

Summary: Steve feels a bit insecure as he watches a coworker flirt with you at a party.

Warning: bit of insecure Steve, lil bit of angst

A/N: Here is the 4th part The earpiece!

Steve wanted to act as if he wasn’t a jealous person but he was. It stemmed not from you interacting with other people but from his insecurities. In many ways even when you looked at him and saw just Steve, he was the small kid from Brooklyn who couldn’t ask a dame out to save his life. Then you came along and changed his world, even when he thought he messed up with the whole earpiece incident. He loved you. It wasn’t a sweet innocent love either, it was all consuming and burned wildly in his whole being. So seeing as other men were as captivated by you as he was made his blood boil. A hurricane of doubt and negative thoughts started to form in his head. He questioned if he was worth the effort. Steve couldn’t help but wonder what you saw in him.

It was as if you had heightened senses of your own because suddenly your eyes connect with Steve’s from across the crowded room. You smile at him brightly, your eyes lighting up. Steve couldn’t help but smile back, yet that same pesky feeling bothered him as you turned back to your conversation.

It was only a few minutes. You’d gone to the bathroom and on the way back your coworker stopped to talk to you. But he got to see you every day so Steve couldn’t understand why he had to talk to you during a party too. It didn’t help that this was the same guy that kept flirting with you at any chance he got.

“It’s not a good look on you, pal.” Bucky says as he stops next to Steve.

“What?” Steve looks at Bucky.

“This whole broody, trying to not look jealous thing you got going on.”

Steve scoffs and looks back at you, his jaw clenching when the other man places a hand on your arm which you quickly pulled away. He mutters a curse under his breath as jealousy rears its ugly head. Steve watches as the other man gets too close for your comfort.

“I’ll be right back.” He says before stomping his way over to you.

You felt him before you saw him. The scent from his cologne was comforting as he came up behind you. Steve’s hard chest pressed against your back and you immediately relaxed. Looking over your shoulder you smiled up at him but Steve’s eyes were on your coworker Paul. Sure he was handsome with his dark brown eyes and matching hair but he wasn’t like Steve. You’d heard rumors around the tower about Paul and his slutty reputation. That was something you weren’t interested in experiencing. Besides, you had Steve, he was the most caring person you’d ever met. Why would you trade down?

“Captain, how are you doing?” Paul sends an annoyed look Steve’s way.

“I’m doing great Peter, how about you?”

“It’s Paul actually.”

“Oh.” Is all Steve replies. “I hope you don’t mind but I came over here to steal my girl.”

Paul’s smile fades slowly as his eyes bounce between you and Steve. “But we were having such a lovely conversation. Why don’t you join us?”

“Actually Paul I do need to get going. See you on Monday.”

“Bye, Patrick.” Steve says.

“Come on,” Paul grabs your hand and tries to get you to stay. “We’re having a good time.”

“I’d very much like to spend time with Steve. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“But-“

“You heard what she said, now let her go.”

Steve takes your hand and leads you out to a quiet area outside so that he can finally spend time with you alone.

“What was that about?”

“What?” Steve asks while putting on his most innocent act.

“That whole snippy attitude back there. And don’t give me those doe eyes, I know what you’re doing.”

Steve sits down on a lounge chair and pulls you by your hips so that you’re standing between his legs. He looks up at you like you hung the moon and the stars just for him but there’s uncertainty behind it all. You rest your hands on his shoulders and wait for him to say something.

“I’m sorry. I just hated seeing the way Preston was looking at you and trying to touch you.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that he wouldn’t call him by his actual name.

“Steve, baby, where is this coming from? Did I do or say something to make you feel like this?”

“No, not at all. It’s just me.”

“Baby.” You cup his cheeks and make him look up at you. “I only want you. There is no one else in this world that I would want to be with other than you. Not Captain America or Steve Rogers, the leader of the Avengers. I want to be with Steve, the kid from Brooklyn who gets me flowers just cause and who leaves me little notes and doodles around my office just to make me smile. The Steve who would race to my apartment just to get rid of a spider because I’m scared of them. What do I have to do to make you realize that?”

“Nothing. I just need to remember that you see me for who I am.”

“And that I love you no matter what.”

The words wash over him and they calm the storm he’d been creating in his head. “You love me?” Steve said incredulously.

“Of course.” You smile and nod.

Steve stands and pulls you in for a kiss. He leaves you breathless.

“I love you too.”

You giggle against his lips as you both say those three little words to each other a few more times. Steve pulls away and takes your hand, leading you back in and through the party.

“Where are we going?” You ask with a laugh.

“I’m gonna show you how much I love you.”

When you get to the elevators Steve hits the buttons multiple times. You turn him around and distract him with a kiss. When he pulls back again and looks up he makes eye contact with Paul. With a smirk on his face, Steve palms your ass and kisses you again.

He really didn’t have a reason to be jealous. You love him and he loved you but the angry face Paul made was still priceless.

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#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve rogers #captain America #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers x y/n

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venusstorm · 1 year

Note

What about shy!steve rogers?

Just imagine you fresh in your relationship and he is still shy about everything sexual. So one time he is jerk off and moaning your name (while he thinks you are out) but you are home and hear him. When he notices that you see him he is so shy and try to hide his member… but you help him jerk off and praise him.???🤌🏻✨

Shy!Steve Rogers just became my fav. Ty for this <33

Fantasies

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, praise, desperation, degradation, mention of breeding, oral, and ball worship

w/c: 1.5k

'*•.¸♡¸.•*'

Steve Rogers craves your touch more than anything else in the world.

Even the slightest graze led to thoughts of burying himself inside of you. Your sugary tone as you thread your fingers through his locks always caused him to leak shamelessly into his underwear.

In his sleep, he’d shake with need, nuzzling into your shoulder to quiet his cries as he dreamt of claiming you as his. He’d wake up a sticky mess, gliding out of bed and running an ice cold shower. Throwing his head back against the wall as he slid his hand down his length, thoughts of you sinking to your knees rendering the icy water useless.

“That’s it, angel” he’d murmur, gritting his teeth to muffle his cries as he envisioned your precious lips wrapped around him.

But unfortunately, that shameless side of him had to be tucked away.

You knew him as your sweet Steve Rogers, a man who took three months to ask you out because the thought of you saying “no” terrified him. A man who drops everything the moment you call and carries you back to the comfort of your bed the instant you declare “let’s stay in tonight.”

He fantasized about leaving you broken, your pussy throbbing as he fucked you into the mattress. Shoving his cock down your throat. Getting off to the sound of you choking and sputtering as he releases. Images of tears streaming down your cheeks as he rubbed his balls all over your gorgeous face, his seed staining your skin as a gentle reminder of who you belong to.

He had never felt this way before…and it scared him. It felt wrong to think of you that way, to crave more than your gentle touch. And what if he messed up? He hadn’t been with anyone else in decades so what if you hated it, hated him for not being able to satisfy you?

So he kept those eager thoughts locked away. Promising to himself that you wouldn’t see that insatiable side of him.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t relinquish control when he was alone.

'*•.¸♡¸.•*'

Sitting atop the covers, Steve glides his hands over his aching cock. His thighs are spread wide, tip glaring red and dripping with pre cum as his hand travels down his length.

“F-fuck. Feels so good,” he whimpers, chanting your name every time he comes close to release.

His eyes roll back, fingers gliding down his slick shaft as he cries out for your touch. “Need you so badly,” he sobs. “W– want to fill you up. Make my cum leak out of that pretty cunt.”

He grips his heavy balls, tugging at them roughly. Whenever you shot him that perfect smile, he couldn’t resist imagining what you’d look like coated in his seed. Your tongue desperately licking at his balls before he shoves them into your mouth. How he’d jerk off onto your body, painting you into a perfect picture.

“Look so pretty sucking daddy’s balls, baby. Fuck, M’so messy. See what you do to me? Need you to clean it up for me. Suck daddy’s cock for me, angel.”

He swipes his hand over his slit, moaning loudly as another spurt of cum drips down his cock. Steve envisions your pretty tits dangling in front of him, your sweet, intoxicating scent wafting around him.

“I– I can’t stop cumming.”

He apologizes as if you could hear, his eyes clenched tightly as another wave of euphoria approaches.

But little to his knowledge, his cries don’t go unheard.

You inch down the hallway, following the sound of Steve’s alluring groans. You peer through the cracked door, your desperation sticking to your thighs as his moans grow louder.

Your breath halts from the sight of your man sprawled across his bed. He’s heaving, his lips parted and eyes shut. He’s covered in his seed and so were the sheets. The slick noise echoes around the room and you couldn’t help but slide your hand down your shorts.

Steve jerks upwards, a thick rope of cum shooting out towards his chest and nearly missing his jaw. “Please, angel” he begs, shouting your name as if it could magically make you appear.

He thinks about fucking you against every surface in this apartment. Breeding you so full that you’re begging him for mercy. Then he’d sink to the ground, spreading your legs and devouring every last drop.

You inch inside the room, quietly making your way to the bed. Steve’s hair is slick, his face wet with desperation.

He’d leave you wrecked and motionless. But he wouldn’t mind carrying you around his place afterwards, doing everything for you, and treating you like the princess you are. Taking you into the shower, cleaning your body, praising you for how good you’ve been. All to just hike your leg over his shoulder and grind into that pretty cunt all over again.

“Can you cum for me, Princess? Squirt all over daddy’s cock. C’mon, baby. I’ve got you, just let go for me.”

“Baby?” You whisper. Your voice is weak, eyes trapped on his twitching length.

“Mhm,” he murmurs.

You break into a smile. “Stevie?”

His eyes flutter open, the darkness now replaced by the image of his sweet girl. He scrambles for the covers, yanking them over his naked body with wide, frantic, eyes. “I’m so sorry, you weren’t supposed to– I didn’t–”

His cheeks grow red, and his chest is tight with humiliation. How could he be so reckless? He knew you had a key but you weren’t supposed to be here for another three hours. Fuck. This was it. You’d think he was a freak. Steve looks away, fiddling with his fingers as he begs for forgiveness.

“Hey, hey. Shh. It’s okay, baby. I’m not mad.”

But he doesn’t respond. Instead, he shrinks, anxiously spewing out apology after apology.

You strip yourself of your clothing as he babbles on. A smile creeps onto your face as you climb into bed and draw him to your chest.

“I’m not upset, Stevie,” you murmur.

“You’re not?” He whispers. “But–"

You shake your head, spreading your legs until he’s sitting between your spread legs. “My pretty baby. Looked so cute saying my name.” You slide your hands down his chest, kissing his neck softly.

“You could’ve told me.”

He shakes his head, “D-didn’t want you to think of me differently. I’m not good at this. I’m not experienced. I just know what I feel for you and that’s to make you happy.”

“You’ve made me happy every day since we met, Steve. You mean everything to me.”

Steve whimpers as you grasp his cock, uncaring of the fact that your hands are covered in his spend. He’s thick and heavy in your hands, throbbing as you graze his skin. You begin to pump slowly, smiling as he shutters from your touch.

His head tilts to the side to meet your lips and he melts against you, groaning as your pace quickens.

“I’m so lucky to have you. So patient and kind. Sweetest boy in the world.”

You wanted him to feel secure. To know that every thought running through his mind could be said aloud and not spoken in secret. Because truthfully, you were just as desperate for him.

The odds of him walking in on you shouting his name as you came undone were just as high. Fuck, you couldn’t wait to feel him inside of you. His heavy frame crushing your body as he grinds into you, hitting you deep.

His breathing grows heavier as you pepper him with kisses. “You know what I think about, baby?”

“Mhm?”

“How you’d shove that pretty cock into me. Stretch me until shaking. Dumping load after load into my pussy, sliding your fingers against my slit and fucking it all back into me.”

You whine as he moans your name, gripping your free hand in his. “I always cum so hard thinking about how you’d hover over me. Taunting me for allowing you to do whatever you want to my body.”

Steve nearly broke from the picture that you had just painted. He mewls, gripping your hand tighter as your thumb rubs against his slit.

“I’m sorry you’ve been so pent up, baby. You’re always so sweet. So patient. These past few months have been the most memorable days of my life and it’s all because of you.”

“I love you”

“You love me?” He whimpers. It was the first time those words had escaped your thoughts. The relationship was still new and yet, all you ever thought about was how much you loved the man before you.

You nod, “More than anything.”

You love him. His body tenses as you pepper kisses along his neck, whispering praise into his ear as you stroke him sensually.

“I- I love you too.”

Steve searches for your lips once again right as thick white ropes erupt from his cock. His legs shake as he reaches his high. His seed drips down your fingers and pools around his base and eagerly you bring them to your lips, sucking them dry before pressing your mouth back against his.

#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers fics #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fic #Steve Rogers smut #steve rogers x female reader #shy!steve rogers #steve rogers captain america

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writtenfromhawkins · 2 years

Text

hoax.

ship: steve harrington x fem!reader.

summary: when his father lets him know his presence is expected at a company dinner party, steve blurts out he’d be taking his girlfriend. the problem? he’s very single. now stuck in a lie, he goes to you for help.

word count: 2.7k.

warnings: lots of pining, some curse words, mentions of migraines, steve’s dad sucks.

authors note: cliché, but i am simply a slut for the fake dating trope.

part two

let’s fall in love for the night.

“Are you fucking insane?”

“Come on sweetheart,” he begs, reaching over the counter to grab ahold of your hands, his gaze never faltering. “I can’t go alone.”

“You could,” you point out, wiggling out of his grasp, “if you just told the truth. “

"I’m already the loser son with a dead-end job.” Steve waves his arms around, motioning to the racks of videos in the dingy store as if to say see? “I can’t be the loser son with a dead-end job and no date.”

And just like that you falter, any arguments—and you have many—die before they can leave your lips. You hate that your good, kind, funny, absolutely incredible friend felt like anything but. You’d never verbalize it but you despised his father for being the only one capable of bringing that side out of him, turning him from the man you admired into the needy, desperate-for-acceptance and attention boy you barely remembered from high school.

“If I go...”

It’s a hypothetical, not a real answer but still, your words inflate him. He stands up straight, shoulders back, handsome features pulling into a grin.

“Steve...”

Before you can react, he’s up and sliding his long body across the counter. “Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, coming to a stop in front of you. Big hands reach out, grabbing ahold of each side of your face to pull you close and press a kiss to your forehead. “You are an angel, a goddess really, heaven sent.”

If his praise warms you, his lips set you on fire, just enough to make your brain go fuzzy and have you ready to agree to whatever he wants but you stop yourself, doing your best to hold on to some semblance of self-control.

This is your friend, one of your closest, and one you maybe have some confusing feelings towards. You don’t like-like him, no way. But, yeah, your heart would beat just a little faster when you saw him and, sure, when he’d touch you—God, was he affectionate—sometimes you’d get butterflies. He was also your ultimate confidant, the one you could complain to about your parents or rant to about your latest shit date. He was a safe place, a non-judgmental ear, someone you could always rely on. Again, confusing.

You worry the ruse he was suggesting would run the risk of crossing a metaphorical line, something you may not be able to come back from.

“Steve,” you say again, hoping to grab his attention, “Stevie, that wasn’t a yes.” His smile falls and you resist the urge to backtrack. “I was trying to ask what we’d be doing. Like... if I agree, what am I actually agreeing to?”

Just like that, he perks up again because you are considering it. That’s progress and he’s grateful; you were the only person he felt comfortable enough asking. Robin would just laugh at him, he could hear it now—like anyone would believe that, dingus, she’d say before bursting into giggles. Nancy was complicated, came along with too much baggage and too many hurt feelings. But you? With your kind eyes and warm demeanor, he felt like he could go to you for anything.

“It’ll be an easy night, I promise,” Steve assures you, desperate for you to believe him. “I’ll make up some excuse so we can just meet my parents there. We won’t even have to deal with them that long. Really. I’d just need you to tolerate them for dinner and, uh, you know... act like you like me.” He throws it out there like it’s nothing, like the thought of that doesn’t make him feel some type of way. “You can wear a pretty dress and get a nice meal out of it. And, I swear, I’ll owe you big time.”

You’re quiet, pretending to consider the proposition—as if you could ever say no to him. “Can we get ice cream after?”

With no warning, he’s reaching out for you again, pulling you into an embrace. “Whatever you want.” He means it too.

—

When Steve shows up at your door a week later, you can barely contain your relief when you see officially that you two match. Well enough anyway. Getting outfit details out of the man had been akin to getting teeth pulled—long and painful.

“What’re you wearing?” You’d asked one night, phone cradled between your ear and shoulder, cord fully extended as you dug through your closet.

“Uh... jeans and a t-shirt?” His answer had come out like a question.

“What?” You’d laughed. “Not right now, Steve. I meant for the dinner.”

“Oh!” You couldn’t see it, but he slapped his forehead, face flushed. “Right, yeah. Duh. It’s supposed to be fancy so like... a suit and tie.”

“Color?”

“Black.”

“Black,” you’d repeated.

“Is that bad?” Steve’s voice betrayed him, he sounded panicked.

“No, no!” You were quick to reassure him. “That’s classic. What color shirt?”

“Blue.”

You paused, waiting for further details that don’t come. “What kind of blue?”

Steve scoffed. “What do you mean what kind of blue? Blue is blue.”

“It’s really not,” you pointed out, arms crossing. “Is it dark or light?”

“Why does this even matter?” He didn’t mean to be short with you. Really, he didn’t. But anything involving his dad was enough to set him on edge. An already short fuse combined with genuine confusion didn’t make for the moment peasant conversation.

“So we can match. We’re supposed to look like a couple, right?” You chose to ignore his tone for the sake of keeping the peace.

Like a couple. “Oh,” he breathed. “Right, sorry. It’s dark.”

You’re about to ask if he meant more midnight blue or something a tad lighter but you stop yourself. No point, you could make that work.

And you did. The little number you’d picked out was navy, slinky, and fell to mid-thigh. With enough skin exposed to keep it interesting but just conservative enough to satisfy the stuffy businessmen you’d surely encounter.

“Hey,” you greet him, leaning against the door frame. You try to stop yourself but your eyes travel, taking in the perfectly coiffed hair, the broad shoulders, and the snug slacks. He cleaned up well.

The one imperfection—if you could even consider it that—is the loose tie hanging around his neck. He catches your gaze and lets out a dejected sigh. “Couldn’t get the damn thing tied and didn’t wanna ask my dad. Do you think...?” He trails off, sheepish.

You soften at the admission, happy to help with whatever he needed. “Of course,” you answer, stepping aside. “Come in. I gotta grab my purse anyway.”

He steps cautiously inside, taking the opportunity while you were busy to fully appreciate your attire. “I shoulda said it as soon you opened the door but you look incredible.” You were always beautiful, that was something he realized ages ago, but to see you dolled up for him was something new, something he thought he could get used to. “I’m gonna have the prettiest fake date there.”

You can’t help it, you preen at his praise. You were doing this for him, after all. You wanted him to be pleased, to think you looked nice. With your back to him, you’re able to hide just how much an effect those words have on you as you grab your back from an end table and slip the strap up your bare shoulder.

“Alright,” you say as you approach him, coming to a stop right in front of him, the toe of your heels just barely touching his Oxfords.

Almost hesitantly you reach out, hands taking hold of each end of the tie. It’s pretty, you decide. Navy with light blue and white flowers. You’re rusty but still, with minimal fumbling, you’re able to get a passable Windsor done. Carefully you tighten the knot, knuckles grazing his Adam's apple before your hands lower, smoothing the fabric down his chest to his sternum.

You hope he can’t tell your hands are shaking, he hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart is beating.

Satisfied, you take a step back, eyeing your work. “Looks pretty good to me.”

He nods in agreement. “S’perfect, sweetheart. Thank you.” A silence falls over you for a moment, it’s comfortable and nice, but Steve has to break it. “Ready to go?”

When you give the affirmative, he offers you his arm. You take it and soon he’s leading you out of your house to his BMW, opening the passenger side and getting you safely in the car before rushing around the other side, joining you.

—

When you pull up outside the banquet hall, Steve is quiet. Tentatively you glance over at him. Both hands are gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles are white, his shoulders tense, jaw clenched. You want to ask if he’s okay but before you can, he’s looking back at you, smiling although it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s do this.” He doesn’t sound excited.

Steve is out of the car and making his way to your door before you even have your seatbelt undone. You thank him when he opens it, pulling the hem of your dress from where it’d ridden up on your thighs. His eyes follow your movements.

“Before we go in there, I just want you to know we can leave anytime, okay?” You’re doing him a favor, a major one, and he doesn’t want you uncomfortable, doesn’t want you in a bad situation just for his benefit.

You almost laugh, figuring that he’s being just a little dramatic but you refrain. “It’s just dinner, Steve. I promise I’ll be okay.”

He wants to point out you’ve never actually met either of his parents, making you woefully unprepared for what the night would entail. He wants to warn you, to protect you, but then you’re taking his hand in yours and any concern is forgotten.

—

That’s how you walked into the event: fingers interlaced, whispering to each other and Steve despised himself for how much he was enjoying it. You were his friend—strictly platonic. It should have felt weird or uncomfortable, but it didn’t. On the contrary, it felt nice, natural and he was hoping his parents wouldn’t see him, that he could keep the night just the two of you.

Those hopes are quickly dashed when his father, from across the fucking room, bellows out his name, waving. Steve can tell right then and there he’d been drinking and all he wants to do is turn you around and take you home but instead, he leads you right into the lion’s den.

He regrets it but it’s too late. “Mom, dad, this is...”

He doesn’t even get the chance to introduce you. His mother is squealing your name—he’s surprised she even remembers it—and is wrapping you in an embrace. It’s stiff, incredibly insincere and you don’t like it, but you smile anyway.

When she dropped her arms, you step back so you’re pressed tightly against Steve, his hand finding the small of your back. “Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh,” his father breathes, “it’s nice to meet you too. We didn’t even think you existed, isn’t that right, honey?”

Wide-eyed, Mrs. Harrington almost looks apologetic. “We’ve just never seen you around the house.”

Steve grits his teeth, the irony in the comment not going unnoticed. They were never home enough to know what he had going on.

“More like we didn’t think a girlfriend could fit his ice cream shop budget.” He says it like it’s supposed to be funny. No one laughs.

“I don’t work at Scoops anymore, dad.” Steve sounds contrite when he reminds his father, but the older man simply waves him off.

You tug on Steve’s suit jacket, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Well, you have nothing to worry about, I’ve never been treated better. You really raised a perfect gentleman, you should be proud.” And they should. They ended up with an incredible son even if they did little to form him into the man he was now.

“I guess he was bound to inherit something from me.” Yeah, right. “So, what do you do? Steve said something about college?”

“Well, I bartend part-time at The Hideout.” You say it like either of the elder Harringtons would have heard of the shithole but they’re definitely not your usual clientele. “It’s a little bar on the other side of town. But yeah, I’m in school right now. I’m majoring in Early Childhood Education at Purdue.”

He whistles like he’s impressed. “A teacher, huh? An actual career.” He’s talking to you but he’s looking at Steve,

Your eyes narrow and you open your mouth, desperate to put him in his place, but Steve speaks before you get the chance. “Yup,” he agrees, “she’s brilliant. All future little gremlins are very lucky.”

You’re tense, frustrated by Steve’s father and the way he jumps at any opportunity to cut Steve down, but you allow yourself to be temporarily distracted. You could tell he meant what he was saying and it meant a lot to you.

“Oh, babe,” you turned to look at Steve, practically beaming at him. You catch the way he flushes at the pet name—a bold move for you, something you normally didn’t use but, hey, you were trying to sell it. “Thank you.” You turn your gaze back to his parents. “He’s so supportive.”

“He should be,” Mr. Harrington pipes up. “If he’s not gonna have a real job—”

Okay, that was enough.

“Hey—”

“Sweetheart,” Steve interjects, already knowing what is coming, “is your head feeling any better?”

You blink, totally caught off guard. What the hell was he talking about?

“Oh?” says Mrs. Harrington. “Are you not feeling well?”

“She gets these awful migraines,” Steve answers for you, just blatantly lying now. “Had one all day today.” He tsks as his hand moves from your back to your temple, fingers massaging soothing circles into the flesh. “I tried to get her to stay home but she was so excited to meet you guys. Nothing could have kept her away.”

“That’s so nice.” Her tone doesn’t suggest she actually thinks of it as nice, but she still presses a hand to her chest, feigning sincerity. “We couldn’t wait to meet you either, not after the way Steve talked about you.” The boy in question bristles at the comment, silently begging his mother not to reveal what he had actually said. “But if you’re unwell, you should really get some rest.”

“You are so right, mom,” Steve agrees readily, arm moving to wrap around your shoulder. “I know you’re disappointed, baby, but we should go.”

“Oh,” you say, back of your hand rising to rest against your forehead, “I guess you’re right.” You’re eager to go now, but do your best to sound reluctant, sad. “I’m so sorry we can’t stay for dinner.”

The goodbyes are brief and hurried, you have to resist the urge to run out the door, only fully relaxing once you and Steve are safely outside. “God, Steve,” you sigh, shaking your head. “They’re really awful.”

He can’t help it, he laughs. “I really should have warned you, huh?”

“Your father, I just...” You trail off, unable to even put it into words.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. You were great in there, by the way.” He would be forever in your debt, you saved him from monumental embarrassment. “It’s still kinda early, I think I can get us in at Enzo’s. You know, if you want.”

Your nose scrunches up and you shake your head. “Let’s just go get ice cream.”

“No way,” he protests. “You need actual food.” A lecture you’d received from Steve more times than you could count. He was always making sure you ate, that you were hydrated, that you slept well.

It was nice to be looked after but that was not what you were after now.

“You said anything I want...”

How could he argue with his own words?

“I guess I did, huh? Let’s get you that ice cream then, pretty girl. You definitely earned it.”

Maybe tomorrow after the soft touches, the pet names and the kind words things would be awkward. Maybe your concerns were valid and a line had actually been crossed, maybe things would be different. But that was a problem for another day.

For now, you were keen to sit with your friend in your fancy clothes, hip-to-hip enjoying two scoops of mint chocolate chip.

—

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

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mochiroreo · 9 months

Text

Oh goodie! Prologue [breaking in]

Summary: being a latchkey child, you are used to being alone. So when your parents announced that your whole family is moving to Hawkins, you paid them no mind and just packed up your bags. What you are not expecting was that the house that your family just bought comes with two neighbours that are in dire need to have you in any way.

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns. [mentions of god in this chapter] DUBCON. NONCON. 100% FILTH. Smut. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Hidden relationships. Age gap. Cream pie. Size kink. Degradation. Corruption. Choking/slapping (in a pleasurable way). Pet names (no use of y/n). Fingering. Squirting. Overstimulation. Public sex. Recording. Dark!Steve Harrington & Dark!Eddie Munson

Author’s note: thank you for your support on the teaser! I did not expect that

૮ ◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა this is my first time writing and posting my fics publicly so I hope you like them! This part does not contain much but I will still post it for the sake of world building for this fic 💞

P.s. not beta’d. So.. there might be grammar mistakes..

Thank you to @kayaedits and @kitsunecafe for the dividers!

“It wouldn’t be that bad,sweetheart. I swear. Me and your dad promises that the house is really pretty! Plus,you get the spacious room that you have always dreamed off!”

Your mom tried to pacify you,telling you all the things you will like about the new house that they bought at Hawkins, Indiana. A place you did not know even exists when they mentioned that they were planning to sell the house where you currently live and move to the said place. Eyes a bit puffy and red while your lips tremble and jutted out in a pout. Hugging your soft stuffed teddy bear,you were feeling overwhelmed. With their decision already made, you cannot help but look around your room.

The soft pinks and pastel blues are adorning every corner, the trinkets that you collected along the way throughout high school were neatly piled and arranged. The medals, awards, trophies, and books that are lined up on the shelves that pretty sure had indents on them for how long the pile has been there. She looks at you with pity,before sighing and pulling you in a hug. They know that you’re not crying because of how you’ll miss you best friend. Or how you’ll miss the town. No, they know you don’t really care much about those.

You hate big changes. Knowing how shy and timid you are, you always prefer staying home or discovering new spots where you can just relax and let your mind drift away while reading a book or jotting down notes on things you find interesting. And your parents know that. Being painfully aware of the times their jobs affected your upbringing,they try to make it up to you every single time. With you being on their minds when they bought the house,they chose the biggest that they can find which is full of greenery in a quiet neighbourhood.

“But.. its—“ you tried to reason out your frustration,tears slowly filling up your eyes again. “I know honey,I know. I’m so sorry. Me and your father just wants what’s best for you,you do know that.. right? Its not just for work but we can just see that house as our permanent house. No more moving after this.” Your mum apologised in a gentle manner, still patient while hugging you and rubbing your back. You just groaned under her hug,sniffling as you continue to bury yourself on your mom’s arms. “Besides, there are public and private colleges around. You can also get a summer job there too while you are still deciding on what to study. I’ve heard that there’s a book shop and a record store near our house,too. Maybe they’re hiring? Oh,we even have lovely neighbours! Too nice,actually! Me and your dad happened to meet them while we were inspecting the house..” you listened to your mum telling you all about the new place, fiddling with your fingers while it slowly sinks on you that you really don’t have any choice. “Its a really beautiful place,honey. I promise. We promise.” Your mum ended softly, giving you a forehead kiss.

“And—“ your dad’s voice popped the bubble you and your mum had,slightly jumping at his voice. “Maybe you can find a decent boyfriend out there. You know, better than— what was his name again? Frank?” He asked,his nose scrunched in disgust. You laughed at how he tried to remember you ex’s name. Giving your mum a tight hug before standing up to give the same to your dad as well,you answered him while copying his expression. “Yes,dad. Frank. What an ugly name,huh?” Your whole family giggled,slandering your ex while talking about what you and your mum should cook for dinner, the anxiety slowly easing in the background.

“Hey mom, where do you want these?!” You shouted after your mother who is already carrying a box of kitchen utensils with a laugh out of excitement.

After a grueling 6 hour car ride, the first thing you did was immediately jump out of your family car and stretch your limbs. The air was sticky and humid,feeling the spring season already ending. You definitely did not expect the temperature on the way here despite it still being early morning. With the heat making your shirt stick to your skin,you slumped your shoulders,already tired at the thought of moving. Putting your sunglasses up your head, you made your way to the car’s boot, quickly grabbing some of your boxes that you won’t clumsily drop.

Hawkins is definitely an eye catcher. Sure, a small town. But there is something mysterious about it that you cannot help but be curious about the said town. You like how snug and tight the community is. People smiling at your parents here and there, striking up a conversation with them too. It eases your nerves that it looks like your parents chose the right place to settle after all. It looks like you will be spending the upcoming summer exploring the never-ending variety of stores your whole family drove by.

The day ended when the last piece of furniture is inside and assembled. “I’m dead..” you muttered under your breath when you plopped face-down on your bed. The house is beautiful— Pretty is not even enough to describe it. The outside definitely shows the history and age of the place. Vintage,painted with neutral colors, while hints of greens,moss, and crawling plants adorn the vast spaces near the windows. It is definitely different from the two houses on both sides of your house. Your mind is already racing on how you are going to decorate your bedroom, already allocating the empty corner for some massive book shelves and a shrine of trinkets and random journals that you collect for fun. You just finished taking a much needed bath,giggling to the comforters when you became too excited on buying new stuff for your bedroom, not noticing your mom’s footsteps as she make her way upstairs.

Your mom stood in front of you,a big smile on her face. Your giggling stopped when you noticed her presence— and how she is holding two pies that are meticulously packed with a bow on top of each boxes. God knows when she had the chance to bake a pie amidst the chaos of never-ending boxes and assembling furnitures together. You went quiet,noticing how your energy is not matching hers as you press your lips in a line while hoping whatever she plans on asking you for is not the one that you are currently thinking. “Sweetheart can you give—“ she started sickeningly sweet before you immediately answered “no. Nope. No,no,no. Goodnight!” You tried to evade her favor, quickly hiding under you fluffy blanket and closing your eyes. Your mom,expecting the behaviour, had quickly put down the pies on top of your study desk and snatched the blanket from your body. “You will!” She exclaimed before laughing loudly as you fight her back for your blanket. “No! Why am I always the one handing it to the neighbours?! I’m always the sone doing it!” You whined,already losing from your so called “battle” against your mother. “Because! Me and your dad are still busy!” She tried to reason out when you know she’s just planning to make you go out and hopefully make new friends or just meet new people. Your mom tugged a bit too hard that made you sit down. You continued whining and whinging,knowing that you already lost and you have no other choice.

You changed from your tank top and sleeping shorts to a cropped cream sweater and a plain pink skirt before brushing your hair and swiping some cherry lip gloss on your lips to at least make yourself looks presentable. With a last look to the mirror,you have put on your glasses and sneakers,before turning around to your mom. You find your mom holding the boxes once again with a cheshire-like grin before handing it to you. “Yeah,you trickster” you mumbled and your mom knows that you are only joking as her loud laughter and giggles together with yours echoed throughout the house.

The air cooled down quite a bit when you stepped out of your house,the gate creaking as you try to push it close using your foot. Trying to ease your nerves, you looked around and drank in your surroundings. How the cul-de-sac is surrounded by trees that makes the place a bit eerie but also dreamy when the sun had set today. How the clouds are soft and plush,orange and yellows slowly disappearing while the moon and the stars slowly peek out. Slowing your steps as much as you can, you focused on the feeling of the gravel underneath your feet and just avoiding the dread of meeting new people. On your way,were slowly starting to hate the whole thing and how you wish the houses are far more apart.

Finally,you made it towards your neighbours gate,seeing that its slightly ajar which made you hesitate before deciding that you just want it to be over with and stepped inside. “Screw it” you say to yourself while walking towards a black stained oak door. Trying to balance the other pie on top of another to fix your glasses from being crooked and your hair from being destroyed slightly because of the wind, you lifted one of your fist and is already thinking of how to escape the social interaction if they end up being too talkative.

“Well fuck that.” You heard a deep,husky voice as he talk to someone that you cannot hear clearly. You dropped your fist beside you,anxiety slowly creeping in while your mind runs hundred miles per minute if you should just come back later than to interrupt their conversation. “They keep on trying to sell their god to me for how many fucking years already!” The man clearly exclaimed before another man let out a roaring laugh. “If god is fucking real he will present me or you with someone that can fucking blow my balls off and suck my dick so deep that I will be convulsing at the end of the night and he— whoever the fuck he is— will tell me how its his gift for me,like— someone fucking made for me and you—“

It was the last thing you heard before the huge wooden door opened,the man’s rambling abruptly stopped and two of the most breathtaking men entered your view. One with long,curly hair that looks like it’ll be soft under your fingertips. While the other one has thick,luscious hair that is not as long as the other but is styled to perfection.

“Hi..?” with your face red as a beet,that was the only word you can whisper.

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

hi! i love your works so much and i have a request ^^ i wanted to ask if you could do a jealous and/or possessive eddie? maybe where steve and eddie are super close to finally admitting they like each other and just need one more push or something, or they're just newly dating. they're both at a gay bar, and steve's been receiving lots of stares and heated gazes from some of the ppl there? maybe a person was brave enough to try but eddie's right beside him watching the entire interaction.

i've come across a fair share amount of jealous/possessive steve in steddie stories and i wanted to see it being eddie for a change. tysm in advance and i can't wait to read the other requests with your amazing writing <3

I LOVE possessive Eddie!!! I really only see it in Kas!Eddie or vampire Eddie situations and I wish it was written more for just regular old human Eddie who just has entirely too much love for Steve to contain his emotions when someone else tries to make a move. I hope you like this little thing (2500 words!) I came up with and the other requests I've been putting out so far! - Mickala ❤️

---------------------------------------------------------

Robin convinced them she needed support.

Support Steve’s ass.

She was doing just fine from the moment they stepped in the door of this place.

So fine, in fact, she’d abandoned him and Eddie before they even got their first round of drinks brought to them.

Steve sat at the table with Eddie, awkwardly watching as people kept dancing and drinking and making out in dark corners of the bar.

He tried not to look too much, though. He didn’t want anyone to think he wasn’t comfortable here.

Quite the opposite, actually.

He’d been here a couple of times with just Robin: once before he figured out he was into men, once before he figured out he was into Eddie, and once more before this where he tried very hard to be into Eddie and failed.

But Eddie had insisted on coming when he overheard them talking about it, saying he hadn’t been here since high school and could use a night in a place where he could just be himself.

As if he wasn’t always obnoxiously (and beautifully) himself.

Robin had given Eddie a Look, but nodded in agreement, saying it would be awesome to have both her favorite guys there.

Which rubbed Steve a little wrong because he was her only favorite guy.

But he got over it because now Eddie was his only company, probably for the entire night going off of the way the girl with Robin was staring at her.

Ogling her.

Steve sighed. Eddie sighed.

They looked at each other and laughed.

“She do this to you every time?”

“No, usually we stick together. Must feel brave since you’re here with me.”

“Awww, she trusts me.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was probably more truth to that than he cared to admit.

Robin was often afraid to leave him alone, but she never hesitated if Eddie was with him.

He felt people staring at him, but he ignored it. He wasn’t here to find anyone and it would be silly to even try knowing that Eddie was right there.

But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to have people checking him out. He used to thrive on it in high school, feeling seen by anyone was better than being seen by no one.

Then, he hated it. He wanted to be invisible and he wanted everyone to focus on anyone and anything else in the room. He got his wish most of the time.

Until Eddie.

Eddie always included him in everything, pointing out when he was being quiet or moody, asking him questions to involve him in conversations, making sure he understood what Dustin was saying which was a challenge often.

He would touch his arm when he passed by him on the way to grab a drink from the kitchen or let their thighs touch on the couch on movie nights.

He let him come over after work on the nights he was too riled up, needing to let out some of his energy with a walk, but being too scared to do it alone.

So Eddie saw him, and made others see him, and he didn’t always love it, but he accepted it.

Tonight felt different, though.

All these eyes on him meant that people found him attractive, maybe wanted to dance with him or bring him home. If Eddie weren’t here, he’d maybe give it a shot with someone, try to find a way out of this hole he dug himself into with the first guy he’d admitted to himself he had feelings for.

But he also felt Eddie’s eyes on him, practically burning a hole through the side of his face every time he looked out at the crowd.

He felt heat crawling up his neck, to his cheeks.

Having all of Eddie’s attention was a lot for anyone, but especially Steve, who frequently thought about what it would be like to have Eddie’s attention on him in bed, or in the shower, or on the couch, or the pool, or-

“Did you want another drink?”

Steve looked down at the drink in his hand. He’d barely finished half of it, so he didn’t really know why Eddie was asking unless he just needed an excuse to get up.

“Um. No thanks. Probably should just have one anyway.”

“Sure.”

Eddie got up with his empty glass and started walking towards the bar.

Almost as soon as Eddie was gone, a taller man in a suit was taking his place at the table.

“Well, hi there, honey. Never seen you here before. First time?”

The guy was older, mid-thirties at least, and probably not the type of guy Steve would want to experiment with. But he was flirting, and he was kind of cute.

Steve could let himself enjoy a little casual flirting, right? It wouldn’t have to lead to anything.

“No, but I don’t come often.”

Steve rested his arms on the table, head in his hand. He grinned at the man, that Harrington charm practically beaming off of him.

“You could come tonight if you wanted to join me in the back.”

That was smooth. Sleazy, but smooth.

Steve didn’t drop his grin, but he shook his head.

“I don’t think I’m interested in just hooking up in the bathroom. Maybe you could buy me a drink?”

He had no intention of drinking another drink, but he figured this guy would lose interest if he showed he was more needy.

He was wrong.

The guy practically tripped over his feet to stand up from the booth.

“What would you like?”

“Oh. Uh.”

“He’s good, man. How about you go buy a drink for someone interested?”

Eddie came out of nowhere. Seriously, Steve had just seen him at the bar a few seconds before he spoke.

“Is this your boyfriend or something?”

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly as Eddie stood taller, more intimidating.

“Does it matter? I’m asking you nicely to go.”

“I don’t think it’s up to you. I asked him.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to punch the guy, and Steve could admit to himself silently that he wanted to see it.

But he didn’t quite understand why Eddie was reacting like this; He’d assumed Eddie would want to try to hook up with someone while he was here and wouldn’t want to spend all his time with Steve.

“Steve? Do you wanna get a drink with this guy?”

No, he didn’t. He hadn’t even before Eddie came back. But a part of him had to wonder if maybe Eddie’s reaction was just to protect Steve from an older guy.

“I actually have to drive us back home so I probably shouldn’t have another drink. Thanks though.”

The guy mumbled something before turning and leaving, shaking his head as he walked to the bar.

Eddie slid into the booth next to him instead of across from him, letting most of their sides touch.

Steve couldn’t help the way his body naturally curled into Eddie’s, the comfort and safety of his body drawing Steve in without effort.

It should have ended there. Steve should have just let himself stay rested against Eddie’s side until Robin was done.

He did for a minute, but then his brain decided it needed explanations.

“What was wrong with that guy buying me a drink?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, his body tense against Steve’s.

“I just don’t think he was the right kind of person to be buying you a drink. You deserve better than that.”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Eddie didn’t know the guy, he could’ve been really nice. Other than the propositioning as his first line, he seemed like he was willing to do whatever Steve wanted to get more time with him.

“Who is the right kind of person then?”

“Someone younger. Maybe someone who doesn’t wear a damn suit to a gay bar. This is a casual place, there’s no need to flaunt your super important job. Plus, he could see your drink was still half full, he should’ve known you didn’t want one.”

“You offered me a drink before you got up.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I’m not trying to get you drunk to sleep with me.”

Yeah, and wasn’t that a shame?

Steve dropped it. It wasn’t worth arguing with Eddie and he didn’t want to ruin any of the fun they could have.

“Should we dance?”

Eddie pulled away and looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“You want to dance with me?”

“Why not? We’ve been abandoned by Robin and the music isn’t bad.”

The music wasn’t bad to Steve. Eddie, however, was suffering through it as it was, and that was without having to dance to it.

“Pleeeeease?” Steve pouted at Eddie, eyes wide.

“You can’t make that face. It’s not fair.”

Steve kept making the face because being fair wasn’t something he cared about.

Eddie stood up, holding his hand out towards Steve to help him stand from the table.

Steve took it, ignoring the way he wanted to collapse against Eddie the second he stood up.

They made it to the dance floor, where a surprising amount of people were dancing in pairs and small groups, enjoying the fact that they could safely here.

Just when Steve turned to Eddie, the music changed to Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears.

Steve tried not to take it as a sign.

Eddie suddenly looked even more nervous, like he’d planned on maybe getting away with just jumping around to the music and now he couldn’t.

Just when Steve was going to give him an out, another guy, this one younger, but not as nice looking, wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

“How ‘bout we dance, sugar?”

The guy was drunk.

Steve wasn’t interested in ruining his favorite song by dancing with this drunk guy.

“He’s busy,” Eddie said firmly.

The guy backed up a bit, but still had his hand against Steve’s arm, resting there with enough of a grip to keep him upright.

“Sorry, you got somethin’ against me dancin’ with him?”

“Yeah, that’s why I just said he’s busy.”

Eddie pushed the guy’s hand off of Steve’s arm and put his own around Steve’s waist, pulling him against his side with no room for air or argument.

Steve tried to catch his breath, his heart skipping a beat and his lungs exhaling instead of inhaling.

“Maybe you should let him say if he’s busy or not.”

Steve was missing his favorite song to argue with a guy he wasn’t interested in when he could be dancing with Eddie.

Unacceptable.

“I’m dancing with him. Find someone else.”

The guy rolled his eyes and walked away.

Eddie turned and adjusted his arms so they rested on Steve’s hips.

Steve didn’t know what to do.

“Have you never slow danced before, King Steve?”

“Uh. Just once.”

“Oh? Let me help you then.”

Eddie took his hands in his own and gently placed them around his neck, pulling himself closer to Steve when his hands found his hips again.

“This okay?”

“Yeah.”

Steve wasn’t sure how this was happening, how this was real.

He just knew he didn’t want it to end.

He rested his head against Eddie’s shoulder, letting himself enjoy what would probably be his only chance at dancing with Eddie for the rest of his life.

“Why do you keep sending people away?”

Why was Steve determined to ruin tonight with his stupid fucking questions?

“What do you mean?”

“It just seems like you don’t wanna share.”

Eddie didn’t respond.

Steve looked up at him, but his face was hard to read in the darkness of the bar.

“Eds?”

“I don’t.” Eddie cleared his throat. “I don’t wanna share you. I like having you all to myself. Sorry if I’ve ruined your night.”

He started to pull away and Steve panicked. He couldn’t say that and then leave.

“What do you mean? You haven’t ruined anything. I wanted to spend it with you, anyways.”

Eddie was searching his eyes, looking for any sign of a lie.

“Steve, I-” The song changed, but it was another slow song. They kept slowly rocking and staring at each other. “I have to tell you something. You’re probably gonna hate me and wanna leave me here in Indy.”

Steve gulped. Could he possibly have feelings for Steve?

“I uh. I sent them away because I was jealous.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I love you so fucking much I don’t know what to do with it all the time! Sometimes I hide in the bathroom during movie nights so I can scream into the towels. Do you know how ridiculous that is? I’ve even been caught by Max before and she promised not to say anything if I gave her $20.”

“Oh.”

Oh? What the hell Steve, say something else.

“So, I get it if you hate me. I mean, I don’t know how this happened and I have no right to send potential dates away because I want to keep you to myself.”

Steve leaned up and placed a kiss on Eddie’s cheek.

“I’m glad you got jealous.”

Eddie was blushing now.

“What?”

“If you hadn’t been jealous, you probably wouldn’t have told me all this, would you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“You know what helps with jealousy?”

Eddie looked down at him, more confused than ever.

Steve didn’t wait for him to respond.

“Making out in the bathroom of a gay bar.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as he registered what Steve was saying.

“You wanna do that? With me?”

“Well, I certainly don’t wanna do it with anyone else. And you won’t let me do it with anyone else. So maybe we should do it together.”

Eddie grabbed his wrist and wordlessly led them to the bathroom in the back of the bar.

It wasn’t empty, but the single stall was available and Eddie made it pretty clear what their intentions were when he dragged Steve right into it, closing and locking the door only a second before his hot lips were on Steve’s.

It was better than what Steve could have possibly imagined, but still not enough.

Now that he knew Eddie wanted him, he wanted everything Eddie could give him.

And Eddie seemed to want to give it all to him.

His lips were almost too much, but Steve couldn’t get enough.

They weren’t even in a bathroom anymore, floating high above the clouds with happiness and contentment.

Until a knock on the stall door nearly made Steve give himself another concussion.

“Dingus One and Dingus Two! Super happy for you both, but it’s time to go.”

“Shit.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s nearly one in the morning and we agreed to leave by midnight. I got distracted by boobies.”

“Don’t we all,” Steve said, as Eddie let out a loud laugh.

They opened the stall door and Robin sighed.

“Fix your hair. I’ll be at the car.”

Steve looked in the mirror as she left the bathroom, smirking at Eddie’s reflection behind him in a similar state of disarray.

“Okay?”

“So okay.”

“You owe me a dance.”

“What? Why? We danced!”

“But it got interrupted. And I wanna dance with you.”

Eddie sighed, but smiled fondly at Steve.

“I’ll dance with you whenever you want, sweetheart.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #love confessions #possessive eddie munson #jealous eddie munson #platonic stobin #anon request #requests

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mrs-illyrian-baby · 4 months

Text

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 12

Black White and Midnight Blue | Loki x Reader

You and Loki repay your debt to the Avengers by attending Baron Zemo's exclusive Hampton's dinner. But when an unexpected guest arrives, you find yourself the centre of attention.

Warnings: Baron Zemo chat (I hate that guy), mention of PTSD and anxiety for reader, angst, whump/hurt (the comfort comes next chapter!)

A/N: I'm so sorry this has taken ages and it's not the extra long chapter I promised because, in the end, the extra bit just made sense further along in the story telling. We're really moving the plot along at pace in this chapter and revealing a bit more about our antagonists so I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for sticking with this!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

There was a time in your life when you had only ever dreamt of sitting beside the Avengers in their luxurious top floor office, discussing plans to save the world. Like everyone else, you’d seen the news, watched the footage of them battling in New York and been awed by their bravery and prowess. But now, seeing them argue and having felt their fear and wrath, you only felt cold.

Their icy demeanors hadn’t thawed since you returned, the truce between the heroes and Loki was dangerously thin, held together only by Thor’s surprisingly adept diplomacy and their need for you.

Below the table you felt the only warmth in the room, Loki’s hand on your thigh, pressing his fingertips just a little harder than normal, to help you feel grounded. Below the surface you could feel his magic thrumming, restrained in its frustrations, straining against its bonds in an attempt to be freed. It was a feeling you could empathise with, your magic called back to him, coiled inside of you ready to strike.

The poor weather of mid autumn had kept you trapped inside and unable to practise the depths of your magic as you wanted to. But when you were alone together, your sedir tangled with his and had allowed you to make and support illusions both beautiful and romantic.

You sighed, bathing in the memory of Loki twirling you around his bedroom, transformed for the evening into a miniature Asgardian ballroom.

Hands clasped, one steadying palm at the small of your back as the waltz rose around you. His intricate steps leading you into dizzying turns.

Your memories blurred together, dances from aeons past melting into this perfect evening.

“Are you two listening to me?” Steve barked, hands on his hips as he commanded the room, a large leather binder spread open on the table in front of him.

“Of course we are, Captain.” Loki drawled, a note of disdain lingering in the otherwise quiet room.

“Yes, Captain Rogers.” You answered, earning a tickle of long fingers along the inside of your knee from Loki.

Such a good girl

A teasing warmth spread over your skin, starting in the dimple of soft flesh that Loki had pinched and up your spine.

I just want to get this done with

“As I was saying,” he coughed, flipping a page in his folder, “Loki and Estrid -”

“Oh, you don't have to start using that name-” you interjected.

Since returning from Tønsberg you’d shared your new name with the group for clarity. But it still felt odd to have an entirely different identity. Though there were things you could become accustomed to, your new name was proving to be a sticking point.

“Loki and Estrid -” Steve continued.

“Lady Estrid,” Loki interrupted, leaning forwards across the table and flourishing a gold pen from the thin air around his hand, “if you're going to ignore her wishes, you could at least be correct, Captain, allow me to update your little record for you. It’s Lady Estrid, Princess of -”

“If you want to use it, then just Estrid is fine.” You took the pen from his hand and placed it carefully on the table where it melted into the surface leaving a faint trace of gold.

“Darling you should -”

“It’s fine, Loki, let’s just-” you tipped your head towards the waiting team and raised your eyebrows.

Please, let it go

Never, you deserve to be treated with respect, especially from these cretins

I know, I know, but the sooner we’re done here the sooner we can just leave

Loki scowled, but turned back to Steve, “continue.”

Steve returned the scowl and went back to his book, “Loki and Estrid will use their powers to infiltrate the party and separate at the bar, your new identities will be in your briefing packs and outfits will be provided. Although I suppose, should the need arise, you will both be able to create disguises. Should you be compromised this will be key to your escape.

“Loki, you’ll head to the office room so that you can break into the safe. There should be a laptop in there with - well, possibly best if you don’t know. But it’s important. Estrid you’ll be keeping people away, providing cover as this is your first op. Loki, you should hand the laptop over to Natasha who’ll be waiting here -” a map flashed up above the desk in the same, obnoxiously bright blue and orange that all of Stark’s designs seemed to favour.

You and Loki leant back in your chairs to get a better look. “Natasha will be waiting in the first of the get-away vehicles. It’s important that you both stay at the party for at least a short while so as to not raise suspicions. When it’s time for you to leave we’ll let you know through your comms. Understood?”

“Understood,” you nodded at Steve.

“Loki?” The Captain stared pointedly at the Prince sitting next to you who had become so bored he’d produced a nail file from somewhere and was carefully tidying up the edge of his middle finger.

“You understand that I’m a God? This is not the first time I’ve been in a raiding party.” Loki raised one eyebrow, “I think between us we’re perfectly capable. Now, my darling, can we leave?” Loki had a way of speaking to you as if there was no one else in the room, clear and direct, his eyes focussed on you entirely and it made you tingle all over.

“Yes, we can go.” You allowed yourself a small smile at his impatience and took his outstretched hand, allowing your gaze to rise up his lean, muscular body.

The two of you had barely left Loki’s rooms since your date, snuggled together in blissful solitude morning and night. Just being in the conference room felt painful and you longed to return to the comfort of Loki’s bedroom.

“But we still have -” Steve started.

“My Ásynja has said that it’s time for us to go,” Loki cut off Steve’s protests and turned his back on the Avengers, tucking your hand into his elbow and leading you back to his quarters.

The light glimmered off your dress as you stepped from the dark interior of the limo and out onto into the softly lit courtyard of Baron Zemo’s Hampton’s residence. Behind the tall gates and stone walls, New York’s most wanted were being wined and dined while the Avengers set up their checkpoints in the inky darkness of the beach and grassland that surrounded the vast estate.

Loki kept hold of your hand once the door closed behind you, tucking your fingers into the crook of his elbow, the soft wool material of his suit warmed your palm while you looked up at the towering mansion. Behind the stone walls the home itself looked almost cosy, warm lights detailing the traditional white wood and blue accents. Who could have known that behind the white linen curtains lurked so many criminals, the blood on their hands enough to fill the tinkling fountain in the centre of the courtyard.

You squeezed Loki’s arm to get his attention.

“Yes, darling.” His voice was a low purr against the backdrop of muffled string music and laughter.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” You whispered, stepping closer to him, “what if I can’t hold this shape?”

The entire operation was dependent on you and Loki pretending to be a minor couple from one of the European crime families trying to break new ground in America. When you’d questioned where the real couple would be, Steve had told you not to worry about it. But Tony gleefully explained that he had arranged for Natasha to pay the mysterious pair a visit just before their limo was due to arrive. You hadn’t dared to think about where she’d put them for the duration of the evening.

“You can and you will,” he assured, tugging you closer, “and then we can be free of this nonsense, Ásynja, and we can return to Tønsberg together.” Behind the illusion, you saw the flash of Loki’s blue eyes, a shimmer of gold, of promise, and you straightened yourself. “It doesn’t hurt that you look absolutely radiant, my darling.” He grinned, appraising the black cocktail dress that had been chosen for you. It was a very beautiful dress, and although you’d become rather accustomed to wearing green and blue, you had accepted that it was your job to blend in tonight and not stand out.

“Loki,” you gave an embarrassed whisper.

“Well, you do.” He said, matter of factly. “It’s incredibly distracting.”

You grinned back, “you look very handsome too..”

“Then let’s make our entrance.” Even under his vanir the same mischievous look past over his eyes.

Loki gave your hand one last squeeze before guiding you up the steps and into the foyer, ready for your first mission.

Inside, the party appeared to be in full swing. The host, Baron Zemo, held court at the centre of the room, talking animatedly with a large group of men all dressed almost identically in luxurious looking black tuxedos. Hanging off their arms were some of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, the jewels dangling from their ears catching in the soft lighting, their tinkling laughs cutting through the gruff bluster of their dates.

Loki had already clocked at least two doors that he would need to check, you could tell by the way he squeezed your arm as you passed by the quiet porter who took your coats at the door. He would have to sneak off soon, but it was your job to stay at the bar installed in the corner of the large dining room, to talk to anyone leaving the Baron’s circle of confidence who might become suspicious about Loki’s whereabouts and, in the event anyone left the room, you could alert Loki or try to cause a diversion to allow him time to secure the laptop and escape.

Together you made your way across the crowded room to the bar and ordered drinks, taking only the barest sip to keep sober. Although the sedatives that you were used to taking had completely worn off, you were liable to get very drunk, very quickly, when you were nervous and you had never had to maintain a completely different body while drinking. You hoped that twirling your straw flirtatiously would be enough to look natural while Loki scoped out the room.

“It’s time, darling.” He whispered in your ear, his familiar scent ghosting over you, despite his unfamiliar appearance. He traced the shell of your ear with the tip of his nose and then kissed your cheek, leaving you with goosebumps appearing on your arms.

Loki siddled away from the bar, blending into the shadowed edges of the room and vanishing from sight as he rounded the corner into the area roped off as ‘private’.

Alone, you surveyed the room again, watching as the Baron captivated his laughing audience with another tale of his debauchery, the crispness of his starched shirt hiding the clearly healing cuts and bruises below.

You’d heard stories about him, mostly from the Avengers themselves, about how he had tried to break them, how he had manipulated his way into the compound and triggered Bucky. The super soldier hadn’t been around for that conversation, but Steve had looked over your shoulder as if he could still see the image of his best friend, snarling like a feral beast as he tore his way through the compound. Natasha had reassured you that it couldn’t happen again, but it wasn’t Bucky you were afraid of. He seemed to be as much a victim as circumstance as you, always grimacing before a fight and never bragging about his victories. He was trapped in that compound just as you had been, his only comfort the red headed spy that he was dancing around approaching.

The reassurances of the Avengers meant nothing to you, because it wasn’t Bucky or the Winter Soldier you were afraid of. It wasn’t even necessarily the Baron and his despicable friends, although the easy way he spoke about death had sent a chill down your spine.

The people you were really afraid of, who made your skin crawl and your head hurt. The people you really wanted to be away from... It was the Avengers and Agents that swarmed the compound, the way they recited their allegiance to each other and bowed down to Stark and his wealth.

That scared you more than anything else, because it left you with no one to trust.

No one but Loki.

It brought a familiar, nagging, question back to the front of your mind. If the Baron had been neutralised, why were you even here in the first place? No one had told you and it was really the last place you wanted to be while you were still recovering from your ordeal.

What if the kidnappers were here, what if he was part of it? Your heart beat sped up, your chest feeling tight as your breath became shallow.

You turned away from the bar and carefully dabbed at your tearline, catching the tears before they fell and tucking your now mascara stained handkerchief back into your clutch bag, allowing yourself time to play with your bracelet, hidden inside, flashing in the candle light as the only way to sooth your fractured nerves. For the first time you’d do anything to go back to your slow and steady life from before, to not know about this world or any of these so called powers, if this is where it got you.

Risking a look up at the room you were relieved to see no one had even noticed you, and you allowed yourself to think of the one thing that was keeping you going, Loki. If none of this happened, there’d be no Loki and, powers or not, he was the first positive thing to come into your life in a long time. Or, if your memories were right, to come back into your life.

Your breathing evened out at the thought of him, the way he’d smiled so softly while helping you shift into this new form. How he’d kissed your temple while waiting for the limousine and held your hand the entire way. He’d promised to reward you for your bravery as soon as the laptop had been handed over and, if it was anything like his other ‘rewards’ it was certainly worth looking forward to.

Just as you were settling into the thought of falling into bed with Loki, a ripple of fear rolled up your spine and a scream cut through the gentle tones of the string quartet. You span around, leaping to your feet, your hands held in front of you just as Loki had taught you, ready to defend yourself against the mobsters.

But there was no gun fight, no knives drawn, instead the room began to fill with blinding light, so white you had to cover your eyes with your hands, pressing so hard you could see stars as the other guests began to scream and shout.

“Estrid, are you there?” Natasha’s voice crackled in your ear, so far away and useless as you backed away to crouch down behind the spindly barstool. Suddenly this entire operation seemed like a terrible idea.

“I’m here, but so is something else, where’s Loki?” Your voice cracked, hoping he was close by.

“He secured the item, it’s with me and he’s heading back to the party-” Natasha’s response was cut off by the familiar feeling of Loki’s presence entering your thoughts.

I’m here, I’m safe, are you?

It floated to you through the chaos, anchoring you to your spot. If he was coming then you could hold yourself for now, though you were too scared to even breathe properly. Each inhale felt jagged, like ice in your lungs.

There’s someone here, it’s so bright, I can’t see, I don’t know what’s happening

“Estrid, come in? - Report? - Estrid!” Natasha shouted, the distinctive click of her trying different channels before returning to yours made your head ache. Slowly, trying not to draw attention to yourself, you popped out the earbud and placed it in your bag, silencing the electric hum of the comms.

Everything else went silent then and, for a few seconds, you thought it might be over, but then there was a hand on your elbow, pulling you up and out from your hiding place. You hoped it was Loki and that the change in his cologne was due to his needing to hide, but an uneasy feeling had already settled over you.

“Loki?” You whispered, “can I open my eyes?”

“You can open your eyes, child.” The speaker had a deep, rough voice, as if it hadn’t been used in many years, the words jagged and jarring, pulling at your memories.

“Child?” You cracked one eye open enough to see who had spoken, the room was still white, but between the two of you it flowed as a golden river, dust motes dancing in the air and rather than being blinded as you imagined, it made you think of your Grandfather and hazy summer afternoons with the windows open wide and the dust motes dancing in the air.

Around you the party goers were locked, stock still, in time, their hands over their faces as yours had been.

“Come, Estrid, I have been looking for you.” He moved his hands to cup your cheeks, turning your face up to him as you opened your eyes. In slow motion he smiled down at you and you felt a strange sense of peace wash over you.

The man before you was tall and fair, blonde curls fell in perfect tendrils over his broad shoulders and the green cloak that fell to the floor in waves. On one shoulder a silver pin kept his cape attached to his tunic, as if he’d stepped straight from a history book into the party. Although the room was already bright, he seemed to be lit from within, like he was standing in the summer afternoon sun. His eyes were bright too, but not with anger.

“Who are you?” You asked, though it was clear this was another god, you willed Loki to arrive, none of these mortals would be able to help you now and despite your training you felt powerless. All of your energy was focussed on maintaining your illusion, just in case there was someone looking.

“Ah, child, of course, you do not remember. I forget myself, that we have not seen each other these past centuries. It is I, Lugh.” He stepped back and placed his hands back on the pommel of the broad sword hanging from hip and nodded his head politely. “I knew your mother, long ago, she was dear to my heart and I had searched for you, her beloved daughter, for many years. I have sent for you, though you escaped my man.” He smiled at you indulgently, “you always were such trouble, Estrid. Whatever will we do with you?”

His words were soft and he was honest and friendly as if he knew you well, but all you could hear were the shouts of your memories.

Insolent welp

Disgusting

Fallen

You’d been dragged around, half starved, poisoned and beaten. The anxiety that had gripped you so tightly just moments before morphed inside of you, a tight, heavy rage bubbled and filled every pore. How dare he. How dare anyone. Turn up now and play nicely after you had been passed around like a spare part.

“Get away from me.” You kept your voice low, clenching your fists at your side as your anger bubbled within. “Get away from me, right now.” Your rage, like lava, moved in slow motion, rising slowly and heavily.

“Child, it is imperative you -”

“No!” You shouted, the light blared brighter, the bulbs smashing around you like fireworks.

The man reached forwards, and as his fingers touched your own the bubble inside burst and your magic took over, wrapping you in leather and velvet, a shining silver breastplate and epaulettes were revealed by the shimmering blue flame that danced over your body. The meagre outfit you’d once conjured with Loki and Thor was a mere memory compared to the battle ready armour. In your hand you now held a long spear and, as you watched, the flame danced to it’s place upon it, flaring and then dancing in the air.

But he didn’t let go and as he tightened his grip you were overtaken by the memory of winters in front of a huge fire, piles of furs surrounding you and your mother, sipping wine in a cup and laughing. The snow beyond the entrance of the room fell in soft flakes and the fire smelt of pine and peat. The man was there laughing too, toasting with your mother.

“You are truly a kind friend, Lugh, to host us so.” Your mothers voice was warm and rich, like sweet chocolate and spice.

“Brigid, my dearest friend, it is an honour to have you and your beautiful daughter stay with me on your journey home.”

“Ah, we should discuss that later,” your mother nodded towards you, “I have been planning for Estrid’s future and I fear - sweet girl, perhaps you should go and play a while.” Your mother pointed towards a neat looking pile of woollen capes and a young boy, so familiar, with bright eyes.

“Go, Estrid, enjoy the snowfall.” Lugh touched the top of your head as he passed and you were thrown back into yourself.

The man took a step back, his own five pointed spear tapping the floor and, behind him, Loki stood aghast but smiling only for you, his own battle armour shimmering gold and his horns brushing the doorframe.

“You heard the lady, back away, now.” Loki strode forwards, twin daggers appearing in a flash of magic, he turned his head away from the bright light of the stranger, only facing him when his magic had conjured a pair of black sunglasses to protect his eyes.

The man sighed and banged the end of his spear on the floor again, a red flame appearing which he swung in a wide arc creating a barrier between himself and Loki. The wall of flames reached almost to the ceiling, blocking your escape and your rescue.

“Loki!” You cried out, making your first move away from your position at the bar towards him, a hand reaching out, almost touching the flame.

“Leave him!”

You rounded on the man, your spear tipped forwards in front of you, half defensive and entirely furious, your teeth ground together. “I don’t know who you are but I won’t go with you, leave me alone!”

The man rushed forwards, knocking your spear to the side in one deft movement and grabbing your hands, “you must listen you’re in danger. You are being hunted, you must stop using your magic and hide yourself.”

“By you!” You fought against him, “I won’t be put back there, I won’t.” But something nagged at you, that was why the boy was so familiar, you’d seen those eyes before as the boy, now a man, had earnestly begged for you to stop using your magic. You hadn’t listened, you’d carried on and then - and then you’d been taken again.

The man began dragging you towards the windows, the too bright light that had kept the guests subdued parted around him like smoke revealing the dark parquet floor.

“I can remove you from this place, but you must stop manifesting this armour, you do not require it and it will only draw their attention.”

“Let her go!” Loki projected himself across the room, his body still stuck behind the flames but multiple versions of himself appearing in a semi-circle and hemming your kidnapper in. The man glowed brighter, blurring his features beyond recognition.

With one last attempt to free you Loki, your real Loki, pushed at the flame, shooting his own magic through in one huge green blast, and knocking the man backwards and away from you.

But you fell too.

You cried out, rolling on the floor and landing heavily against the doorframe with a sickening thump.

<<Chapter 11

Chapter 13>>

God mentioned

This is just from my own reading, I'm by no means an expert! This is also a fictionalised version of actual mythology, just like Loki & Thor in the MCU.

Lugh: A figure in Irish mythology and belongs to the Tuatha Dé Danann. He's portrayed as a warrior but is also linked to artistic skills as well as truth telling and oath taking.

Lugh and Brigid are similar in that they are linked to many attributes.

In the Irish mythology Lugh challenges Brigid's husband, Bres, who is king. So. Take from that what you will! In this story I will be portraying Lugh and Brigid as friends and kindred spirits.

#Loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki/reader #Loki x Reader #Loki fanfic #Loki series #loki marvel #Loki x you #Loki/You #loki fanfiction #Loki smut #The Old Gods and the New #Loki fluff #loki x female reader #loki angst

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strangersteddierthings · 8 months

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Daily Ficlet 5

I'm not getting inspiration from the prompt on my usual list, which is 'lighthouse.' So, the ficlet today doesn't follow that. Instead I used the prompt "Kiss me or leave me" as requested by @i-less-than-three-you and @localinsaneman.

Also, consider this the first part of the first prompt I did.

Eddie's leg is bouncing, which isn't unusual. Steve's noticed he's always in motion. He talks with his whole body, gesturing wildly and moving about whatever space they're in, like he's trying to fill it. Which seems ridiculous to Steve, because Eddie fills in space just by entering a room. Steve doesn't even need to see him to know he's arrived; Steve always knows. Feels the change in his bones.

So, the bouncing leg isn't unusual, per say, but it is accompanied by silence. Eddie has been staring at the TV (he won't go so far as to say Eddie is watching) and it's been completely silent beyond the audio from the movie for almost ten minutes. The last time Eddie was silent this long in Steve's company was when he told Steve he was gay.

(Two months later, Steve came out to Robin. A week after that, to Eddie. And it's not like Steve had expected a reaction beyond thanks for telling me and trusting me but he'd hoped and that- well, it's foolish to think Eddie would be interested in him like that anyway.)

Something's up, or something's happened, or maybe something's wrong? Whatever is it, Eddie's working up the courage to tell him. He knows better than to prod at Eddie, because the coming out talk had actually taken over three hours. When Steve prodded, Eddie'd just gotten up and left without a word, returning about fifteen minutes later to just sit in silence. They'd repeated that three times before Steve realized he needed to just shut up and sit in silence until Eddie was ready.

But he hates the not knowing.

Sitting in the silence is awful. It reminds him of silent dinners where the only noise is cutlery on porcelain and chewing. Of the silent disappointment in his report cards even when nothing was below a C. The quiet before the storm, when his father was mad about something and bottling it up until he exploded; he'd quit hitting Steve when Steve got big enough to hit back but the yelling never stopped.

Not that this silence is filled with the same tension as any of the silences he'd shared with his parents, but it's so far off from the Eddie he's come to know that it makes Steve uneasy all the same.

In fact, the only thing keeping Steve grounded right now is his hand wrapped around Eddie's wrist between them. Steve always holds his wrist when they watch horror movies, or thrillers. (It's not that Steve is scared; he just likes to be grounded. To know he's not alone.)

Another ten minutes go by. Steve shifts on the couch, slouching more into Eddie's space. Normally they'd be shoulder to shoulder by now, but Eddie's stuck firmly on his side of the couch. Back straight. Leg bouncing. Arm completely rigid in Steve's grip. And now, as Steve leans into his space, he sees Eddie freeze. The leg stops moving, one second, two seconds, three seconds, four-

"ARGH!" Eddie shouts, flinging himself off the couch, pulling his arm from Steve's grip as he goes before throwing his arms up in the air as he spins on his heel and points at Steve. "I can't do this!"

Steve startles. "What?"

"You! You keep- sometimes it seems like- Aahh!" Eddie pulls at his own hair and Steve's just confused. What did he do? What's he done to upset Eddie? Whatever it is, he'll beg forgiveness and never do it again.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing! That's the-" Eddie snaps his mouth shut before finishing his sentence but Steve knows.

"I didn't do something and that's the issue?"

Eddie doesn't speak, but that doesn't mean he's silent. Eddie speaks with his whole body. Right now, he moves from foot to foot, a very subtle rocking motion and his hands find each other, fingers twisting at rings. Eddie stares down at Steve, still on the couch, and speaks to him without words.

He's nervous. The ring twisting is nervous Eddie. But the shifting, the rocking, that's scared. That's ready to run. And the stare. His face is a mask of anger, but Steve knows that's it. It's a mask. Eddie is hiding his fear behind anger.

Nervous. Scared. False anger. All directed at Steve, for something he didn't do.

Steve stands in one fluid motion and steps into Eddie's space. They're the same height, putting them at eye level easily. God, Steve hopes he's reading this right. He slowly lifts a hand to tuck Eddie's hair behind his ear, exposing more of his handsome face. "What do you need from me? If I can do it, I will. For you. You know I will."

He watches Eddie war with himself before all the fight leaves him. Because Eddie knows Steve just as well as Steve knows Eddie. He has to. Steve can't have fucked this up that badly. "Kiss me or leave me. I need you to do one, because I can't stand the not knowing which will happen anymore."

And Steve knows what Eddie wants, but Eddie's had him on edge all night over something they could have solved months ago, so Steve slides a hand behind Eddie's head and applies enough pressure to get Eddie moving, and just when Eddie's eyes slip closed to ready for the kiss, Steve goes up on his toes and plants a loud, exaggerated kiss to Eddie's forehead.

Eddie rears back, looking so offended that Steve just has to laugh. But before Eddie can get hurt or angry, Steve grabs his wrist again and marches down the short hallway to Eddie's room, wasting no time in crowding Eddie against his door once it's closed, and kissing his way up Eddie's shoulder, neck, jaw, before finally, finally claiming his lips.

#steddie #my fic #daily ficlet #long post #but not long enough for a read more imo so sorry not sorry about that

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rxdidz · 9 months

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readers parents being really strict, but she NEEDS to go to her “best friend” robins bday so she helps her sneak out?

can i call you tonight? 💿˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

a/n : i love this song it’s been stuck in my head for idk how long

synopsis : reader has strict parents that won’t let her go out to her best friends (gf) bday, so she helps her sneak out.

"mom, i need to go to her birthday. i told her i was coming.” you begged. “i don’t like that girl y/n. me and your dad agreed already that we don’t want you out with her.” your mother said from the kitchen.

you took a deep breath and persisted, "i know what you think about her, but she’s my best friend. not being there would make me a bad friend. there’s obviously gonna be no drinking because her parents are gonna be there.”

he sighed. “y/n we said no! what i say in this house goes.” your dad said in a frustrated tone. “dad, please, just listen—" you deserved to go. you had no bad grades, you helped with all the chores and you didn’t complain about anything.

“you’re not leaving this house, y/n! go to your room!" he raised his voice, pointing to the hallway. tears welled up in your eyes before turning away. shutting the door, not slamming it, because you knew that would result in more yelling even tho you really wanted to. you sat on the edge of your bed, a lump in your throat from trying not to cry. you picked up your phone, dialing your girlfriends number.

“hello?” she answered. “hi, it’s me.” you hesitated. “oh! hi! i miss you, when are you coming?” she perked up. you bit your lip, you really hated disappointing her. “.. my dad said no. im so sorry robin. i asked multiple times, i told him there wasn’t gonna be drinking, i cleaned the WHOLE house, i even asked before hand” your voice shook.

it was silent. “rob?”

she played with her telephone cord and smirked.

“wanna sneak out?”

you waited only 10 minutes for robin to pick you up at your window. you got your bag ready, and silently got your shoes on. you were filled with excitement but you had this feeling in the pit of your stomach that it would all go wrong. a muffled tap on your window made you jump, you pulled back the curtain and saw her there, grinning and waving. you smiled, opening the window.

“hi.” you whispered. “heyy.” she smiled, tippy toeing. she broke the silence “so what? are you ready?” she teased. “well duh. happy birthday.” you gave her a kiss before climbing out the window. you were full of anticipation, she grabbed your hand and you both sprinted to steve’s car, giggling.

“hi steve.” you smiled, out of breath. you hopped in the backseat, throwing your bag beside you. “hey.. hey, your parents aren’t gonna kill me if they catch you right?” he asked, looking into the rear view mirror and starting up the car.

“no, they definitely would.” you nodded. it was silent until robin laughed, causing you to laugh.

—

“see, we didn’t get caught.” robin playfully bumped into you. walking down the street, eating your ice cream that you got at the end of the night. you were both tired. steve offered to drive you home but you both wanted to be alone for a while.

“i never said we would!” you laughed, bumping back into her. you were so close to each other, you felt her hand brush yours on accident.

“mmm, you looked worried.” she shrugged. “maybe a little. but you distracted me from it.” you answered, slipping your hand into hers.

getting to your window, she let you use her hand to step up and climb in. you tried to be extremely quiet, taking your shoes and jacket off and then back to paying attention to her. “all good?” she asked. “yes.” you nodded. “i have one more gift for you tho.” you motioned for her to stay, walking to your closet.

“another one? for moi?” she gasped, getting on her tippy toes to try peek. “hey don’t peek.” you giggled, putting your hand to her face.

“okay. close your eyes and put your hands out.” she did as told, you pursed your lips and set the necklace in her hands. “okay open!” she opened them and a smile spread across her face. it was a silver heart.

“a necklace?” she looked up at you. “open it!” once she opened it, it had a little picture of you and her at an arcade, with a heart that had a ‘r + y/n’ in it.

she had to stop herself from jumping up and down with joy. she had the most lovey dovey expression on her face. “i love it. i love you.” she stared up at you and put the necklace on.

“i love you more.”

“can you tippy toe a little more?” you asked. “why?” she furrows her eyebrows. “just c’mon.” you whine.

she did as told and you leaned down a bit, cupping her face in your hands, you met her lips. it was a soft, sweet thing and she found yourself leaning into you more when you pulled away.

letting out a breath, she stopped getting onto her tippy toes and she grabbed your hand. “thank you, for the best birthday ever.”

“thank you for inviting me.” you say, before she kisses your hand goodbye.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader #stranger things masterlist #robin x reader #wlw x reader #robin buckley #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #maya hawke x reader #steve harrington #robin buckley x y/n #nancy wheeler x reader

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Can Anybody See Me? Part 11

This one is a bit angsty. Steve has a panic attack, so if that bothers you, you can skip it. It’s just a soft interlude with Eddie and Steve. And of course a bit recreational drug use. Also every school needs an urban legend or ghost story.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Steve loved drama and the play. He did not love his pottery class. The teacher Mr Lovett had taken an instant dislike to the fact that Steve had joined his class half way through the first semester and therefore missed all the fundamentals.

And worse Mrs Hall refused to let him change it at the start of the new semester. So he was stuck in a class he knew nothing about, where the teacher hated him, the other students ignored him, and he was pretty sure he was failing.

“Look,” Steve told Mrs Hall. “I just want to know if I fail pottery if I’m still going to graduate. That’s it and then I will be out of your hair until graduation. I swear it.”

Mrs Hall sighed and went looking through her file on him, clicking her tongue as she thumbed through his transcripts.

“If pass all your other classes and get above a C+ in drama, you should still graduate,” she said after several minutes of cold silence.

Steve sighed in relief. Those involved with the play were given automatic passing grades, so as long he did the other assignments, he was on track to graduate.

“Thank you, Mrs Hall.”

He stood up and began to walk to the door when she called out to him.

“Mr Harrington,” Mrs Hall said, “I know boys will do whatever they want, but please stay away from Edmond Munson. That boy and his little cult of Satanic worshiping D&D lovers will only cause you further ostracization of your peers.”

Steve blinked. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but before Eddie took me under his wing, I was friendless and alone”

Mrs Hall tutted. “Better to be friendless and alone than to be caught up in a cult.”

He frowned in confusion and hurt. “Are you going to tell my parents?”

“I should,” she sneered. “But I could get into a lot of trouble if I do, so I will stay out of it. You only have a few more months of school anyway. But know that I will keep my eyes on you.” She wagged her finger at him and then shooed him away.

Steve ran to the bathroom and slammed the stall door shut. He forced himself to breathe like Eddie taught him, but he couldn’t get his breath under control. He heard someone enter and start pissing.

Steve tried to keep quiet but his breathing made it hard. There was the sound of running water and suddenly he couldn’t hear anything else. It was like water rushing around his head. He let out a strangled cry, thinking that whoever was out there had gone.

But he was wrong.

“Hey, is there someone in here?” Eddie asked.

Steve let out another sob but this time in relief.

“Steve?” Eddie whispered.

He tried to get a word out, but all that came was wordless gurgling.

“Shit!”

Steve could hear Eddie run out the door and the relief he felt crumbled to dust. He started sobbing and couldn’t stop.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice came again. “Hey, sweetheart, can you open the door for me?”

Steve struggled for a moment or two before he managed to get the door latch free for the door swing open. He stumbled out, right into Eddie’s arms.

Eddie managed to keep them upright but barely. “Holy shit, are you okay?”

Steve shook his head.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie cooed. “I’ve gotcha, big boy.” He led them over them to sit on the floor.

“Aren’t you worried someone’s gonna come in?” Steve asked after a moment of just sitting in silence.

“Nah!” Eddie said with a grin. “I put out the ‘Out of Order’ sign. We’ll be good for a while.”

Steve frowned for a moment. “So that’s where you ran off to.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow and then the other shot up to join it. “Did you think that I ran out on you?”

Steve curled in on himself. “Everyone else does.”

“Except your kids,” Eddie pointed out. “And except me. Okay?” He put his arm around him and drew him close. “You want to talk about what happened just now?”

“I had my meeting with Mrs Hall,” Steve mumbled.

“Yeah?” Eddie said. “She let you out of pottery?”

Steve shook his head. “She still refuses. I think she’s in cahoots with Mr Lovett to my senior year as miserable as possible.”

Eddie tucked Steve’s head under his chin. “That’s just bullshit, sweetheart. I’m sorry this year has been so bad for you.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. He raised his head to look Eddie in the eye. “And then she had the gall to suggest that being friends with you was worse than being alone.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “She did what?”

Steve nodded. “If it didn’t mean detention and the possibility of not being able to graduate on time, I would have told her fuck off.”

Eddie kissed the top of Steve’s head. “I am a bad influence on you, you know.”

Steve chuckled. “Don’t care. I think you and your friends were the first people to like me for me instead of the Harrington name.”

Eddie grinned. “What the matter, Stevie? Don’t like being a Harrington?”

He shook his head. “Hell no, I’d change if I could.”

“How about Munson?” Eddie teased.

Steve laughed out right. “I think you skipped twelve steps there. At least buy me dinner first.”

Eddie blushed as Steve lowered his head on his shoulder and sighed.

“I should get back to class,” he murmured, “but I don’t think I can face other people right now.”

“So don’t,” Eddie said, standing up. He pulled Steve to his feet. “Come on, you and I are playing hooky!”

“Eddie!” Steve laughed, but let him pull him along.

They got out to Eddie’s van, breathless and giggling.

“Where to?” Steve asked as he yanked open the passenger side door.

Eddie just grinned. “I know just the place.”

They started driving and Steve could feel the weight of the world lift from his shoulders the farther they got from the high school.

“Thanks for the assist, Eds,” he said softly. “It’s nice knowing people care.”

Eddie shook his head. “Don’t thank me for being a decent human being, man. It’s embarrassing.”

Steve laughed. “Still a nice feeling.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence. They got out to Lover’s Lake and to a nice boat house.

“I know the owner,” Eddie said. “So sometimes I like to come out here and think. Just look at the water and let it take away all my troubles.”

Steve sat there and listened to the wind on the water.

Eddie pulled out a pack of cigarettes from somewhere. “You smoke?”

Steve nodded and took one off of him.

Eddie patted his coat and pants, cigarette dangling from his lips. “Shit. I think I left my lighter out in the van.”

Steve dug into his pocket and pulled out his Zippo. He lit Eddie’s cigarette first and then his own.

“Thanks, man,” Eddie said.

Steve shrugged. “Not a problem. You provided the smoke, I provided the light.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Fair enough.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while.

“You know, it’s forced conformity that made Mrs Hall who she is,” Eddie said.

“What’s that?” Steve asked.

“You must have missed some of my table rants, then.”

Steve shook his head. “I try not stare at pretty boys when they’re drawing attention to themselves. It makes the whole not straight thing a little more obvious. Especially since that was something I knew wasn’t what straight boys did.”

Eddie leaned into his space. “You think I’m pretty, Harrington?”

Steve fobbed him off with his elbow. “You know you are, man. You don’t need me to say it.”

“Joke’s on you, pretty boy,” Eddie cooed. “Flattery works on me.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “Duly noted.”

Eddie cackled.

After they finished their cigarettes, Eddie went digging around the boat house.

“Ah ha!” he said triumphantly, holding up a bag of weed. “You partake, Stevie?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I have been to a Tommy H party at least once or twice in my life.”

“Ahhh...” Eddie sighed happily. “One of my best customers.”

Steve giggled. “You got any papers to roll or are we just going to light it on fire and try to get high on the fumes?”

Eddie laughed. He tossed Steve the bag and continued to dig around some more. He pulled out another prize with a “Eureka!”

He shows the bong to Steve with a feral grin.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve said a startled laugh. “That works.”

They passed it back and forth, slowly getting high.

“So what’s forced conformity?” Steve asked after a few minutes.

Eddie hummed and then said, “Oh. It’s this theory I have. Parents, teachers, school counselors trying to force kids into specific boxes. Skinny, scrably kid? Must be a nerd and likes science. Only the kid hates science and math. Maybe he likes art and music. Something that schools are always trying to get rid of by the way. When there are budget cuts, those are always, always the first to be axed.

“Music is also something that is hotly contested. Don’t talk about sex or drugs or even feeling sad, really. Stay in the correct societal lines. No jazz or rock or metal. Just country or pop. Even though those two genres would be nothing without the jazz or blues. Black people’s music...”

Eddie continued to rant as Steve watched him wave his hands around in obvious enthusiasm.

“Does that make sense?” he said after a long time.

Steve who had been mildly buzzed throughout the whole thing nodded. “I think so. And I think...” he frowned. He looked up at Eddie with shining eyes and quivering lip. “I don’t know what I am. Sexually, I mean.”

Eddie sat up. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. You clearly are attracted to men. Does that mean that you aren’t attracted to women? Not necessarily. Like Marty likes both, but he prefers men. Uh...another person I know. They don’t go here obviously. But they prefer women. But every once in a while, they find a man that lights up their world and they go for it.” He huffed out a laugh. “Despite what the name suggests, bisexuality isn’t 50/50.”

Steve frowned. “Huh. Okay. That gives more to think about.”

Eddie shook his head. “You’re still in high school, dude. You have your whole life to figure this out.”

Steve’s answering smile was effervescent. “Thanks, Eds. For all of this today. I just needed to get out of my head for awhile.”

Eddie gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. “Any time, Stevie.” He stood up and dusted himself off. “Come on, I should get you back to the school to pick up your car.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, otherwise the auto-body club will strip it for parts and leave it on concrete blocks by morning.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

“It’s true!” Steve protested as he got up to follow him.

“It’s really not,” Eddie said. “It’s an urban legend.”

“Come on...” Steve said.

Eddie just shook his head and led them back to civilization.

Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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fastcardotmp3 · 4 months

Text

Nancy & Eddie; Nancy & Wayne; 1.4k; post-S1; the melancholy of Christmas; grief/mourning

That night, after Steve goes home and the leftovers are put away and the voices from Mike's walkie talkie murmur through the walls, Nancy creeps past the gleaming tree in the living room and out the front door.

The dark of the sky is gray with the potential for overnight snow and her layers of shirt and sweatshirt and coat and scarf and gloves keep the cold from permeating too quickly, but her cheeks pink over before she reaches the end of the cul-de-sac, let alone her destination.

She shouldn't be out this late. Her mother would hate it if she weren't wine drunk and sleepy enough not to notice, and there's not a good place for Nancy to do what she needs to do, but it's also not an optional thing.

It's not, to her.

There's no grave to visit at the cemetery, because Barb isn't dead to anyone else the way she is to Nancy, but she goes there anyway. Has been. Will continue to.

She's making do, in this and in so many other ways, and so she tries not to feel the utter not enough-ness of the little stack of stones she's built in a lopsided pyramid under a big oak tree with far-stretching branches right at the highest point of the cemetery.

She tries not to think about how she can't add Barb's name to this sham of a grave, can't even call it that when Barb's body is trapped somewhere she can never reach and thus can't bring home either.

Nancy just lowers herself to the cold, hard earth and goes about straightening the pile again, as she always does. She uses them as a barrier this time, a little fenced-in square to hold up the poinsettias she'd stolen from the centerpiece that had sat in the center of their Christmas dinner.

Her hands tremble. She lets them.

Her swallow grows thick. She lets it.

Her tears do not fall. They stay caught in her gut where the rest of her guilt resides, the rest of all her worthless searching, the rest of the hope she never got to mourn for fear of seeming ungrateful for the return of her brother's best friend.

Nancy sits here in front of her makeshift memorial and she does not cry, because there are no tears, and she does not speak, because there are no words, but her heart screams loud enough to shake the town apart.

Her soul wails and laments and begs. She lets it.

She lets it be loud enough that she doesn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her until there's the quiet clear of a throat and question of--

"Hate to bother you, kiddo, but can I bother you a moment?"

Nancy startles, both at the gentle gruffness of the self-contradictory question and the realization that her face is damp with the silent remnants of tears she cannot feel past the numbness of the cold.

"Sor-- Sorry?" she clears her throat as she stumbles quickly to her feet, brushing off her skirt and the thick tights beneath it as she does.

The man behind her isn't someone she knows, which would be a frightening thing if she were in any other mental state than this one, so doused in apathy for her own self that danger doesn't really register.

He wears a warm looking hunting jacket, a thick winter cap with flaps over the ears, and holds a thermos out in front of him.

"S'only, my boy spotted you out in the cold over here," he gestures to Nancy's left where she sees a boy she does recognize, the flit-away of his gaze back to a headstone at his feet all she gets out of Eddie Munson before his arms are crossing over his chest and his shoulders are hiking up around his ears. "Wondered if maybe you couldn't do with some company? Or just somethin' warm to drink?"

He holds the thermos up, this-- this person speaking for Eddie Munson when Nancy has never seen the guy be anything other than outspoken.

The sky is gray in its darkness, a muted sort of black that doesn't allow for stars beyond the heavy clouds.

There's a little pile of stones which are the only remembrance for a girl who deserved so much better than she ever got on the ground behind her.

"You want me to...?"

"We're visitin' his Mama," he says gently, and Nancy understands Eddie's posture better now, that distance away feeling shorter between them. "Anyone out here on Christmas oughtn't be alone, though, don't you think?"

"She didn't run away," Nancy blurts, the sudden need to explain overwhelming any of the kindness being offered to her.

He just nods. Succinct but not dismissive.

"Okay."

"She--" Nancy chokes. She can't tell if her cheeks are still wet. "She didn't run away."

She's not allowed to say it. She's not allowed to talk about it. She can't impart the seriousness of how much Barb didn't leave, didn't go, didn't get far enough away before her time ran out.

But this man, this Munson, he just takes a step closer with the suggestion of an offer with the slightest raise of his arm and Nancy is-- Nancy is hugging him.

She's leaning into the warmth of him, letting him wrap his arm across her shoulders and rub her back with a gloved hand because-- because no one, not a single person, none of them listen when she says it.

Not even the ones who know, not even the boy who loves her, not her own mother who cared more about the fact that Nancy lost her virginity than her best friend.

"I hear ya," he says in a quiet murmur and Nancy believes him. Can hardly breathe past the force of what it feels like to have the words she speaks land softly, with understanding.

"Sorry, sorry," she swipes at her face as she pulls away, and he lets her go without argument, but stays standing there. "Sorry, I know I look hysterical, I just."

A hitching breath. She doesn't hear these footsteps getting closer either, but she feels Eddie's presence in that familiar posture she has gotten to know too well since that first week in November.

She's about to enter a new year, a year with a new number and a new turn of the earth that Barb will never see.

"We're going for pie," Eddie says, even as Nancy wipes her face with the tail of her scarf like a child. "Diner off Walnut's open on Christmas. If you wanna come and be a fuckin' mope with me."

And there's something to it, this undeniable acceptance that Nancy is, in fact, facing the same sort of loss as a boy without a mother, that has her snorting with laughter.

There's something about them, the Munson's with their seeing of her in the most vulnerable state she's allowed herself to express outside the privacy of her shower, that feels like the same sort of relief as the release of pressure that comes along with laughter.

"Do you always pick up strays at the cemetery?" she asks with an attempt at humor, expecting the same dry witted sarcasm in response.

Instead she gets a softening.

Instead she gets this: "I was in band with her," with the lowering of a gaze to a pile of mismatched stones, only to raise back to meet Nancy's with intent, "she made me laugh."

Nancy's chin wobbles. Her lungs too tight in her chest.

She knows then, even before she says it and earns the drape of Eddie's arm around her narrow shoulders, that she'll go with them and eat pie with them and grieve with them.

They'll tell her about the woman they've lost and maybe Nancy will be able to choke out a sentence or two about the girl who raised her only for Nancy to fail her.

They'll eat and she will listen to them because she knows the importance of such a thing and it will hurt.

It will always hurt.

"You said something about pie?" she manages to get out with a hard sniff of her frozen nose.

There is a piece of her lost to a world locked off from the rest of them.

She wonders, tucked into the Munson's pickup truck on a journey in search of pie, whether maybe that's not such an isolated feeling as she thought.

#dot fic #dot post #nancy wheeler #eddie & nancy #eddie munson #wayne munson #sometimes i think about the 1 scene we got with wayne and nancy and go yes yeah exactly exactly uh huh #continuing the eddie and nancy best friends agenda #he would have known and liked barb and I STAND BY THAT #anyways i never write holiday fics but here's christmas dot style mwah

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mister-mickey · 2 months

Text

Outsiders (and twttin) crying hcs because I’m terrible and evil

Darry

- he only cries when he has time to. Like, if he’s busy he will push those feelings down until he isn’t

- when he does actually cry, it’s very quiet. He’s just laying in bed letting the tears stream down his face

Soda

- low key a crybaby. Like he cries even when he’s happy

- blubbery, needs someone around. Like he won’t cry when he’s alone because that’s not what he needs

Pony

- he’s 14 he’s def a bit of a crybaby too. He’s more embarrassed about it than soda

- he, like Darry, wants to be alone and cry when he has time, but he, like soda, emotionally needs the company even if he doesn’t want it

Johnny

- canonly rarely cries. If he does, it’s a big deal

- he’s like empty inside if he’s at that point, probably hugging his knees and hiding away. He’s trying to be quiet too

Steve

- somewhat similar to soda in that he will cry at any extreme emotion, not just sadness. However, he has to be at a much further point than soda does

- he wants to be alone when he cries because he’s embarrassed, but often conversations with soda will pull some tears out that he’s been holding in. Sometimes their hangouts end with soda holding him while Steve just cries

Dally

- he doesn’t cry. He’s too tough to cry (lies)

- he does cry, just not often and certainly not when someone else can see. Usually it’s just a few tears and it’s over, and it’s not for any particular reason.

Twobit

- big baby. He can also fake cry if he needs to

- he ain’t ashamed of his tears, but he won’t cry in front of someone he dislikes or in front of someone he wants to be tough around (like someone younger or something) he will cry in front of his mom though because they have a very open relationship. He’s a mommas boy

Tim

- doesn’t cry, according to himself and also curly and Angela. (Also a lie)

- he won’t cry in front of anyone because he refuses to be weak. But like, it still happens. Usually he’s in bed thinking and he makes himself cry because of that (so me)

Angela

- she has no qualms about crying in front of people, especially her brothers. She has used Tim’s shirt as a tissue and then scolded him for getting his shirt dirty

- she’s a loud crier if she’s with someone, but by herself it’s those silent choking tears that genuinely hurt

Curly

- hates crying but doesn’t have the self control to not cry in front of people. He usually cries when he’s in pain or very very annoyed (maybe Tim and Angela keep pestering him) he doesn’t really cry when he’s sad

- you know those studio ghibli tears? Where they’re round and they just keep coming? That’s him

Bryon

- honestly it would take a lot to make him cry, not because he’s tough, but because it isn’t really thing he ever does. Like he generally just sleeps his feelings off

- if he did cry it’s probably sniffly and gross, and he’s wiping it off on his sleeve and stuff

Mark

- also doesn’t really cry, but that’s more because he’s never really given a reason to, at least not as a teenager

- when he was a kid though he would cry sometimes, probably cuddle up to Bryon’s mom. (That bitch) he’d still get over it fast though.

Cathy

- she cries a lot but not really in front of people unless she knows they can make her feel better.

- she will cry around M&M but not her parents, she will cry with bryon but never around mark. She lets the tears roll down her face as she explains what’s wrong

M&M

- I can’t imagine him crying, but if he did it would be with Cathy because he trusts her and she won’t ever judge him for it

- he leans against her and talks with her as he sniffles and wipes his tears away

#the outsiders #tim shepard #curly shepard #darry curtis #angela shepard #dallas winston #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #Cathy Carlson #m&m carlson #bryon douglas #mark jennings #that was then this is now

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romanestuffsposts · 1 year

Note

Steve’s and Buckies work is definitely not the safest. What if the reader and her daddies are home ( maybe upstairs sleeping or something) and someone breaks in? Everyone is safe.

Thanks love! I love your page! ❤️

Hi there love! 💜

Ohhh I love the idea thank you!

I hope you like how I turned it ❤️

Enjoy <3

****

Warnings : angst

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : can't you all just have a nice and peace night of sleep ?

A/N : I didn't went into details about your Daddies hurting the two men who broke in their house, just so you know babes. I know it can shake up some people and it’s not my goals so I skip it. If you want more details you can ask them in the request and I’ll had the warnings who’s needed 💜

****

You hate being waking up during a beautiful dream. It's always a place you enjoy and you feel safe, it's something you need when you had a stressed day or feeling sick. In your dreams, there's no sickness, there's no need to stress. It's just a wonderful garden with nothing but happiness and joy.

So when you hear a loud noise from downstairs waking you up you groan. You really needed that sleep tonight so now is clearly not the time.

Why your Daddies are still up ? You look at the clock but frown when you realise that you can't tell what time it is. You get up angrily at the fact that you can't read something as easy as hours. You shiver a little at the lost of your warm blanket and take small steps to your bedroom door

You open you door and peer through it, down the hallway. You hear a second noise and look at your left, toward the door of your Daddies's bedroom. It's close. Weird

You step out of your room and walk until you reach the top of the stairs. You look down the stairs, at the dark surrending you, you hate the dark when it's night time. It's scary and you don't feel comfortable when you're alone in the dark.

Your eyes widen and you gasp when a shadow walks infront of the stairs, from the kitchen to the living room. You take a step back, your eyes glued to the hole of dark in front of you. It wasn't one of your Daddies. You know them, and it's clearly wasn't one of the men of your life

When you see a second man walking beside the stairs, you run to your Daddies's bedroom. Usually you knock on their door because that’s what they asked you to do if one day you had to come in their room but of course if there’s an emergency they told you to immediately come in, no matter what

So that’s what you do, you open their bedroom door and close it behind you. You know you have to be quiet but because of the voice in your head who’s panicking, you don’t know if you make too much noise or not. You feel your heart beating in your whole body as you blink your eyes, trying to get used to the dark.

You let out a small whimper, scared to move away from the door because of the dark and afraid of resting close t the door because of the men in your house. You want to get far away from the stairs but you're too scared to move anyway.

"Baby ?" A tired voice speak from the bed in the middle of the bedroom. You see a shadow sitting on the bed, looking over at you, you let out another whimper and see your Daddy standing up from the bed.

You're quickly in his arms "what's wrong, little one ?" You don't have the time to explain what happened, or what you thought happened that another loud noise is heard from the kitchen. You see a new kind of expression on your Daddy's face as his attention is on the door now instead of you.

He curses under his breath and quickly turns around, rushing to the bed where he puts you in. Your Papa flinches awake and looks confuse around him "what the hell Buck ?" he snaps looking at you but his face changes from angry to confuse once again when he realizes you're besude him instead of Bucky "Sweetie ?"

You sniff and look at where your Daddy is running around the room "bucky what is happening ?" Steve says standing up and rushing to Bucky. he throws clothes at Steve and what they need in weapons from their safe closet "people break in" he quietly says so you won't hear.

Steve's eyes widen, he gazes you quickly before looking back at Bucky "are you sure ?"

"One hundred pourcent sure" he says before going to the door. Steve prevents him from opening the bedroom door "One of us has to stay with her. Bucky, you stay with her while I go downstairs" he says puling him away from the door. Bucky frowns "you think I'll let you go downstairs alone ?"

"Bucky look at her" Steve says softly "she's scared and she needs you to stay with her. protect her while I protect you both"

Bucky looks at you and his heart breaks when he sees the tears running down your face. From the panic, he didn't heard the sobs who leave your lips since you walked like a good girl in their room. He looks back at Steve "if I hear a weird noise, I'll come straight downstairs"

Steve chuckles and nods his head "I can handle that. I handled more than just two strangers" he winks before walking out of the bedroom.

Your Daddy rushes beside you and takes you in his arms, he hopes the comfort and safety of his arms are enough to calm you doing "it's okay, babygirl. I'm here with you. I won't go anywhere. Papa will be back soon" he reassures you "we're protecting you, always" he kisses your tears away as his thunb strokes the little part of skin above your nose, between your eyebrows

Steve walks down the stairs as quietly as he can and not gonna lie, he's pretty good at being quiet when he has to. He always succeed to surprise you when he's sneaking behind you to tickle you to death just to hear your laughters, he always succeed when he attacks a bad guy from behind to how quiet he is

So it's not a suprise when he's sneaking behind one of the two men who disturbed his sleep and who scared you without him noticing it.

Your Daddy swings you from side to side, humming a nice and calm song in your ears, dropping sweet and light kisses on your face each time a tear slide away from your eyes.

You flinch when the bedroom doors open but relieve is quickly taking over when your Papa walks inside the bedroom unharm. Bucky stands up and rushes to him, analyzing every parts of his skin "are you okay ? What happened ? Where are they ?" he asks not breathing once

"Bucky I'm fine. They're in the living room, attached on chair and they passed out. I called Fury and he's on his way. He should be there any minutes now" he says removings his clothes and putting away the weapons. He goes in the closet to hide them before coming back in the room.

He walks over you who's stil in bed, to scared to move and going in your Papa's arms. His hands cup your sweet face and a beautiful smile appears on his lips. He drops a kiss on your forehead, then on your nose "are you okay, sweetness ?"

You nod your head as you peer up at him "m oki. You oki ?" you ask whispering. He face soften and he nods "I'm perfectly fine, princess"

-----------------------------------------------

Now that Fury is gone with the two men who scared you, your Daddies help you laying in their bed. They pull the cover above you before sliding in the bed with you.

They wrap their big arms around you and you snuggle closer to them.

This night wasn't an usual night for your family but just like they always promise you, your Daddies will protect you, always.

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