#because Steve is mature and the best
Note
hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!
HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!
wc: 1.4K
notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!
Steve is one attentive boyfriend.
It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.
He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.
So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?
It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?
You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.
“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.
The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.
The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.
"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"
You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"
"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"
"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.
"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"
Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.
"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.
"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."
The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.
Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"
You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.
By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.
Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.
Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.
Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.
"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.
"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"
The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.
"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."
He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.
"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.
"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.
"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."
The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”
He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”
You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.
“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.
“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
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#tysm for the ask!#stevemath#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington writing#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington comfort#serpentwithatardis#aster replies
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picturing Eddie first meeting Dustin and thinking yeah, he knows how this goes: he’ll be a larger than life, comical figure in this kid’s life for, like, not even a year before he leaves Hawkins High in the dust.
And sure, Dustin is, like, ridiculously endearing even when he’s being a cocky little shit in campaigns, and that suits Eddie just fine, ‘cause he can be a cocky little shit at the best of times, downright obnoxious really, he thinks—a part of him’s never outgrown the juvenile, no matter how many times he repeats senior year.
Plus Dustin is crazily good at solving riddles, so Eddie’s remaining months leading Hellfire are definitely gonna be a fun challenge.
Then March comes.
And Eddie’s shaking apart in a boathouse, seeing impossible, terrible things on a loop in his head, Chrissy, Chrissy, God no, please, and Dustin’s there, with a wisdom far beyond his years, calmly leading him out of the dark.
Eddie half expects it to be a trick, but no. Dustin Henderson believes him.
You don’t know me, Eddie wants to say.
But there’s a constant defiance in Dustin’s expression, even when he’s clearly trying to keep things light and breezy, there’s nothing to worry about! Like he’s just daring for Eddie to contradict him.
There’s something assured in how the kid does things, Eddie thinks. He can see how the years of all this shit have shaped him, have him flitting between maturity and earnestness: something born from a childhood that’s not been lost, just altered.
He watches Dustin walk with Steve Harrington in the woods—can read the shared history and fondness hidden in between layers of snark; they’re family, he knows that without a doubt.
What trips him up is that Dustin keeps looking back, keeps drawing him back into the group with complaints that he’s walking too slow, and his eyebrows are raised meaningfully, like he’s really saying that there’s room for Eddie here, too.
And Eddie doesn’t know how to convey the sudden gratitude he feels closing up his throat—feels too jittery still, too raw to do anything justice.
He keeps close when Dustin tears off through the woods, heart in his mouth as the night darkens, Dustin, can you slow down? Dustin!
He pulls Dustin back from the lake’s edge just in time, then feels Steve’s watchful eyes on him—spots a flicker of approval, like he’s passed some sort of test.
And that feeling only grows the longer he’s around Steve, lying through his teeth in The Upside Down, I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, and Steve’s giving him this knowing sideways glance, like maybe they’re something of the same; Eddie feels a sudden, unexpected rush of joy at the thought, dancing in and out of Steve’s space, still super jealous as hell, by the way.
“I told you, right?” Dustin says, grinning widely as Steve drives them out of Forest Hills at breakneck speed. “He’s awesome.”
And Eddie feels the fondness of his own smile, feels it right down to his core, because he gets that Dustin’s only being so forthcoming because Steve can’t hear him right now.
Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea.
It hits him then, while roughhousing with Dustin in the grass (a deliberate distraction, trying to make the kids forget about weapons and fire): that he’s never really been the kinda guy who people want to stick around, but now…
Now he’s starting to think that he could be.
Starts to imagine, starts to hope—and that’s huge, something that would’ve seemed impossible mere days ago—as he sees Robin and Nancy laughing at his antics, their weapon-making temporarily forgotten.
They like me, Eddie thinks with wonder, they really like me.
And he wants—sudden and fierce, with all he has—to change the world for them, to make it so Robin Buckley would just be spending spring break watching arty films, dreaming of Paris; so Nancy Wheeler would never need to hide guns in her bedroom, would never have to carry an unimaginable grief.
Steve looks over, too—his laugh carries across the field, and Eddie is caught by the warmth in his eyes; even as Dustin manages to playfully tackle him, he’s still thinking of Steve, and maybe, maybe…
The lightness fades as they go over the plan, but not the emotion: Eddie keeps that tucked away, safe, a promise to himself.
“Uh, are you sure about this?” he says in an undertone to Steve, when it’s first revealed that it’s him and Dustin paired up together.
Steve’s eyes are apologetic, “Sorry, man, I’ve tried every—if there was a way to just, like, sit it out, I’d have—”
“No,” Eddie says urgently, “I mean…” And he points at himself before nodding discreetly to where Dustin is—currently talking up a storm with Erica, something about vents that he can’t make sense of.
“Are you sure?” Eddie presses, trying to put all he’s not saying into the question, I can see how much that kid means to you, I’ve known him, like, six months, Harrington, that’s nothing, why, why do you—
Steve shakes his head. A little smile breaks through his concern. “Yeah, of course,” he says, like it’s nothing.
But Eddie can feel the weight of it. A passing of the torch.
And he doesn’t know how to put what he’s feeling into words: that, apart from Wayne, he’s never really allowed people in, never allowed them to matter like this.
As they drive back to the Creel House, as time runs out and nerves build, he tries to show everything he can’t say; he helps Nancy take stock of supplies, offers Robin his shoulder so she can sleep, and he knows that’s not enough, barely scratches the surface, but it’s all he’s got.
He sits in the back of the RV, watches Steve, tense and silent in the driver’s seat, and knows with certainty what his mission is: get Dustin Henderson safely back home.
And no, Eddie doesn’t know how any of this is gonna go.
But he can hope.
He can try.
#the dynamic between them all makes my heart ache. just working through some thoughts ❤️#eddie and dustin#eddie munson fic#henderfam#steve and dustin#eddie and dustin fic#eddie munson analysis#dustin henderson analysis#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson hcs#steddie#eddie and the party#eddie munson ficlet#eddie and dustin ficlet#implied steddie#pre steddie#eddie munson
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𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨
𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
word count: 2.5k
warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything)
based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers
It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.
And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.
Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-
You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.
“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.
His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.
“What are you even talking abou-”
“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.
“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”
“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”
Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.
“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”
“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”
“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.
“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.
“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”
“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.
“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”
“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”
“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”
“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”
“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”
The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.
You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.
“Y'know what? Fine.”
You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.
“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”
“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”
There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.
“Hey! Wait up.”
Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.
“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”
You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.
“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”
You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.
The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.
“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.
It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-
The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.
His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.
Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.
“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.
“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”
His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.
“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”
“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.
“Why-”
Kiss.
“Are you-”
Kiss.
“Kissing me?”
Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”
“No. Hell no.”
And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.
He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.
You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.
“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”
You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”
When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.
It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.
#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve x you#steve x reader#*
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Finally His Year - Eddie Munson x Reader
An As You Wish Story
Collab with my soulmate @munson-blurbs 🩵
Summary: It’s Eddie’s birthday and what he really wants is you.
Note: In honor of JQ’s 30th birthday woohoo 🎉
Words: 4.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
The Munson house is buzzing when you arrive. There are three unfamiliar cars parked in front of it, probably from the other people celebrating Eddie’s birthday with him. You have his gift tucked under your arm and a Tupperware of raspberry and white chocolate chip cookies in that same hand, using the free one to ring the doorbell.
You barely have time to pull your forefinger back before the door swings open. Luke peeks his head around, grinning when he sees you standing there.
“Good evening, madam-a-zell,” he says in a vague concoction of European accents—none of them even resembling French. “May I take your—ooh, cookies!”
Laughing, you reach over and ruffle his mop of curls. “These are for Daddy, Luke-miere.” When his face falls, you quickly add, “but maybe he’ll share.”
This placates him, and he skips off to announce your arrival. As soon as he says your name, you hear the sound of Eddie’s feet shuffling towards the entryway.
“You made it!” He says with a huge smile. In your dreams, he pulls you in for a hug and kisses you tenderly. But this is real life, so he just stands with his hands in his pockets.
“I made it,” you agree awkwardly. It takes a moment for you to remember everything you’re holding. “Oh, these are all for you.” You maneuver it all, handing him the cylindrical tube and then the plastic container. Luke loudly clears his throat, and you grin. “Unless you feel like sharing the cookies.”
Eddie takes the presents, shaking his head at his younger son’s interruption. “I’ll consider it. Thank you, Sweetheart.”
That stupid nickname. You love and hate it; as much as he calls you that, you know you’re not his sweetheart. Because he’s married.
His wife—God, you hated that she held that title—was sipping a full glass of wine. Though she’s standing next to Nancy, the two aren’t exchanging any words.
You should go over there. Brittany is technically one of your employers, so it’s best not to rock the boat. Unless, of course, you could ensure she’d fall overboard.
Plastering a feigned smile on your face, you walk over to her. Before you can even get out a hello, she points towards Ryan and Luke.
“They have to go to bed at nine o’clock, so just have them in their pajamas with their teeth brushed by then.”
Embarrassment crawls under your skin. “Oh, I, um, I’m actually here for the party. Not to babysit.”
Brittany doesn’t seem thrown off at all; she just rolls her eyes and turns to Nancy. “Didn’t realize people still needed parties after they turned thirty,” she quips.
To her credit, Nancy just shrugs and walks to you, ignoring the snark hurled your way. She guides you over to where the rest of the group is chatting.
“Can you say, ‘Uncle Dusty’?” Dustin asks little Tiffany Mayfield-Sinclair, gently bouncing her in his arms. “C’mon…Un-kul Duh-stee!”
“Elmo!” Tiffany claps her chubby hands together gleefully, unbothered by Dustin’s frustration.
“I think your kid’s broken,” he grumbles, handing the little girl back to Lucas.
“She was fine until you held her,” Lucas quips as he holds his daughter against his chest.
“Or maybe she just thinks you look like Elmo,” Steve offers with a shrug.
“What is this, high school?” Dustin asks, looking between his friends. “Ganging up on me?”
Eddie shakes his head and gives a loud tsk.
“It’s because you’re not part of the club, Henderson.”
“Oh, because I’m not a dad?” Dustin asks, gesturing with a motion that looks very similar to jazz hands. “That’s fine. Because I’m the coolest uncle these kids have. Someone has to be that figure in their lives.”
“Are they always like this?” you ask Nancy with an amused chuckle.
“Since high school,” Nancy confirms with a sigh. “The sad thing is, I can see how they’ve matured since then.”
You giggle at her response before there’s a weighted thunk against the front of your legs. Ryan’s chocolate eyes peer up at you, a huge grin on his round face.
“Well hello, you,” you greet him, reaching down to ruffle his honey colored hair.
“I’m so happy you’re here!” Ryan cheers. Warmth spreads in your chest at his words. You’re touched until he opens his mouth again to ask, “Luke said you brought cookies?”
“I did,” you tell him, tugging on a lock of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. “But they’re for your dad. It’s up to him if he wants to share with you guys.” Of course he will, you think to yourself. Eddie loves these boys more than Luke loves his Hot Wheels collection; and as you’re reminded by the five-year-old almost every day you babysit, that’s a lot.
“Maybe after he opens his presents,” Ryan muses, more to himself than you. “Or after we have the cake Aunt Nancy made.
“Ryan!”
A little girl’s call echoes around the room. The older Munson boy gives you a quick smile before running towards the kitchen where Natalie Harrington is drawing a picture.
Something Ryan said sticks in your brain though. You turn towards Nancy, brow pinching slightly.
“You made Eddie’s cake?” you ask.
The deep breath Nancy takes lets you know there’s more to the story than she’s probably going to tell you. After all, she hardly knows you. The two of you had only met a handful of times since you started watching the boys last year and none of the visits were particularly long. It's an annoyed sigh that Nancy heaves out, her petite shoulders falling with the release. She’s not annoyed at you, if her kindness and body language towards you are anything to go on. So, what’s got her so tense?
“I did,” Nancy affirms. She’s quiet for a moment and at first you think that’s all she’s going to say. But the way her head bobbles slightly from side to side and her jaw muscles tighten and release, you can tell she’s picking her words carefully before she speaks. To her, you’re her friend’s employee so how much should she reveal? “Steve, um, called Eddie yesterday morning to confirm the time for the party today. Eddie was headed out the door just as Steve called. He said he was going to the grocery store. To buy his own birthday cake.”
“His own? Why couldn’t his wife get it? Or better yet, why didn’t she make one for him with the boys?” Your mind floats back to when you and the boys made a cake for Ryan’s birthday over the summer. It was messy and overly sweet, but the love and care put into it are what made it special.
“That’s what I said,” Nancy grits out through a clenched jaw. After a few moments, you see Nancy’s body deflate. The tension rolls off her like a wave returning to the sea. “So, I made him one. Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.”
“Carrot cake?” you ask, wrinkling up your nose. It’s not that you disliked the dessert, it just wasn’t what you would’ve pegged Eddie for on his birthday.
“I know,” Nancy says with a small chuckle. She shakes her head in amusement, wavy locks of hair swaying at the movement. “He can’t be typical, right? Not chocolate or vanilla—or even strawberry, but carrot cake. That’s Eddie for ya.”
The party continues with casual conversations: milestones Tiffany is meeting, work updates for the “kids” (who were now full-fledged adults, but would always be freshmen to Eddie), and a tentatively scheduled reunion for their high school Dungeons & Dragons club. It only came to a stop when there was a crash in the kitchen.
Everyone’s heads whipped around at the sound, worried that one of the Munson or Harrington children was causing chaos, but the reason for the clamor was none other than Brittany. She’d dropped the cheese and cracker board on the ground and was laughing like she’d just heard the funniest joke.
“Oopsie daisy!” She cackles, nearly falling over with the force of her laugh. While the rest of you had been casually sipping wine or beer, she had been drinking like she was at a frat party.
“Jesus,” Nancy mutters under her breath.
Eddie glances at Steve, who nods at Lucas, and the two of them step in towards Brittany.
“C’mon, time for bed, Britt,” Steve says as patiently as he can manage. He hooks an arm around her, and Lucas does the same on the other side. It’s obvious that this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. A well-oiled machine, ensuring that the kids are none the wiser.
Small miracles, you suppose.
“We can do presents when they get back,” Max jumps in, trying to keep the attention away from the drunk woman stumbling away.
Eddie nods in agreement, collecting the various gifts from the kitchen table and placing them next to his spot on the sofa. When he sits, he spreads his legs enough that you can imagine yourself between them, pressing kisses up his thighs to his—
No. Stop it.
When Steve and Lucas return, Eddie reaches for the first package. Though the room is filled with excited murmurs and crinkling wrapping paper, you can still make out the quiet conversation between Nancy and her husband.
“Did you hold a pillow over her head?”
“No, Nance.”
“Damn it.”
You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a smile.
Eddie pulls out a pair of sneakers from the box: white with a black check mark on the side. He immediately slides them on his feet, wiggling his toes around to ensure enough room. “These are perfect! My old ones were falling apart.”
“We know,” Nancy says wryly as Steve proudly announces, “You said you liked mine, so I got you the same ones.”
“Aww!” Dustin coos, pursing his lips exaggeratedly. “You guys are twins!
Eddie discreetly flips him off before continuing through his stash. Theo and Natalie Harrington made him woven friendship bracelets, which he immediately slid onto his left wrist. When he opens Dustin’s gift, a mug printed with the words “rock ‘n roll” underneath a cartoon rock and dinner roll, Wayne proclaims that it’s even cornier than the ones in the trailer.
Eddie’s face lights up at the present from Max and Lucas—a new Walkman and some heavy metal cassettes.
A pit forms in your stomach: is your gift going to be enough? Will he even like it? Was this whole thing a bad—
“Holy shit.”
You look up to see Eddie staring awestruck at the now-unwrapped present; specifically, the present you got for him. It’s an autographed Metallica poster that you’d spotted at the mall months ago, before his birthday was even a consideration. You’d bought it and kept it safely in your room, waiting for the perfect time to give it to him.
“Sweetheart, this is…” He just shakes his head, blinking misty eyes. “Wow. I, um…thank you,” he finally manages.
Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had seen that same poster just last week. He had Brittany’s shopping bags clutched in his hands when he walked towards the record store.
Kirk Hammett’s signature called to him like a siren.
Eddie was just about ready to pay for it when Brittany marched over, plucking it from his grip and mumbling something about not having room for any more of his stupid music shit.
That had been the end of that.
“You’re welcome,” you say with a small shrug, as if it was nothing at all. “I saw it and immediately thought of you.” That wasn’t too much to say, right? It’s normal to think of someone when you see something you know they’d love, right? Even if that person is your boss?
Once Luke stops scavenging through his father’s presents like one might be hidden there for him, he looks up at his dad with wide, pleading eyes that he most definitely inherited from the man.
“Time for caaaake?”
Eddie snorts and playfully rolls his eyes. A ringed hand comes down to ruffle the little boy’s curls.
“I guess we could have cake now.”
The Munson boys and the Harrington sibling duo cheer in excitement and beat everyone else into the kitchen. All you can hear as the kids disappear into the next room is an I’m okay! from Luke.
Steve taps you on the shoulder as you step over the threshold into the kitchen.
“Hey, could you give me a hand with the cake?” he asks.
“Sure.” You follow Steve over to the refrigerator, silently wondering how many women had actually denied the handsome man anything when he asked in such a smooth voice.
The cake looks delicious as Steve pulls it out of the fridge. Nancy definitely put in some work to make sure it turned out this lovely. The cream cheese frosting is smooth on all sides with delicate piping lining the edge of the rectangular sheet cake. In a beautiful scrawl that is far nicer than your own handwriting, she had written “Happy Birthday Eddie!” in black gel icing.
Steve sets the cake down on the gray granite counter and reaches for a drugstore bag that has a pack of candles and a lighter in it. The two of you work as a team to plug the cake with the multicolored striped sticks and take turns lighting different sides of the cake.
“You got it?” Steve asks as he steps over towards the light switches on the wall.
“Yep,” you assure him as you carefully lift the flaming desert off the counter. Turning around to face the table proves the most difficult part as you slowly spin your body while keeping the cake steady.
Eddie is seated at the table, kids surrounding him on all sides as they clamor about what’s taking so long with the cake. Taking so long? You thought you and Steve worked pretty efficiently together.
“Watch out rugrats,” Dustin says, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder and pulling him out of your way.
You give the curly haired man a grateful smile before you slide the cake onto the table right in front of Eddie. As you go to pull your arms away, pale, calloused fingers reach up and rest against your skin for a moment.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Eddie says.
All you did was carry a cake over but you’re more than glad to receive praise from your boss any time that you can.
Steve flips the kitchen lights off and everyone breaks into a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday. Ryan stands right in front of you as you sing, and you rest your hands on his small shoulders.
“Make a wish!” Luke calls from Dustin’s side once the singing ended. He watches as his dad purses his lips, thinking of a wish. The dim lighting in the room may be playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn Eddie’s eyes flickered over to you before he took a deep breath and blew out all thirty-something of the candles on the first try.
“Yay!” Luke cheers while everyone else claps. “Whatcha wish for?”
Ryan scoffs and rolls his eyes at his little brother. “He can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”
“For my last birthday I wished for a pet,” Luke says.
“Is that why you dug up the worm in the backyard?” Eddie asks.
“Yep,” Luke announces, a proud smile on his face.
“Wormy Munson is missed,” Ryan says, patting his little brother’s shoulder.
The attention quickly turns from squiggly little pets when Nancy asks the room, “Who wants a piece?”
“Me!” Four children’s hands shoot up at the same time, but Nancy just shakes her head at them.
“Birthday boy gets first crack at it,” she says as she slices a piece and transfers it to a Darth Vader paper plate. Nancy delivers that and a plastic fork to Eddie before returning to the counter to cut slices for the rest of the guests.
When you get your piece of cake, you slip into a seat next to Eddie’s at the table.
“So, carrot cake, huh?” you ask him with a playful smirk on your face.
“Hey, gotta get vegetables into these kids somehow,” Eddie says, reaching behind him to tickle Ryan’s belly. The older boy laughs and moves out of his dad’s reach.
“Broccoli brownies next?” you ask, a shit eating grin on your face before you pop a chunk of cake into your mouth.
“Such a smart ass,” Eddie teases, scooping some of his icing onto his pinky and wiping it off on the tip of your nose. Both boys giggle as you try to reach it with your tongue, trying to stretch it out as far as possible to lick it off. Though the boys found it funny, Eddie had an entirely different feeling wash over him as he watched your tongue snake out to try and lick the white substance off your face. His pants tighten and Eddie shifts in his seat, trying to hide his crotch further beneath the table.
Guests drift in and out of the kitchen with their plates of cake, mingling with one another out in the living room. You offer to collect the paper plates up for the garbage once everyone is done. You’re carrying the stack back towards the kitchen when you hear Steve and Eddie having a conversation in there. It’s pretty clear this is just meant to be between them, but when you hear Steve’s question to his best friend, your feet become glued to the floor.
“Think you’ll finally get lucky tonight since it’s your birthday?”
Eddie snorts. “It doesn’t seem like it.” You can practically picture him nodding his head in the direction of his bedroom where Brittany is probably snoring her ass off as she sleeps off her alcohol. You really hope she has a hangover tomorrow.
“Not what I meant, dude,” Steve replies.
This catches you off guard. Who could Steve possibly be talking about if not Brittany? Does… A sickening thought winds its way through your brain, claws taking hold in those places that are already prone to insecurities. Does Eddie have a girlfriend? It’s not like you would judge him for it after Brittany’s whoring around is common knowledge. But it drives an ice pick through your heart just picturing Eddie with his own awful, evil wife. Knowing he might be with someone who could be kind and caring should comfort you—but it doesn’t. It makes you want to tear your skin off to think of Eddie with anyone else but you. Because if he wasn’t going to be with Brittany, you wanted him to be with you. And if you didn’t even get a chance to show him what the two of you could be together? The idea threatened to destroy you.
“Watch it Harrington,” Eddie answers Steve, his voice low. It’s the closest thing to a warning you’ve ever heard from him.
A familiar toddler’s cry abruptly ends their conversation and your now-agonizing eavesdropping. Eddie shakes his head, giving Steve one last glare as he walks out of the kitchen, and looks over at a wailing Tiffany Mayfield-Sinclair.
Ryan scrunches his face. “Daddy, play her the song!”
“Yeah, play it!” Luke echoes, hands pressed to his ears.
Now you’re intrigued. “What song?”
Eddie sighs. “Boys, I don’t think anyone wants to hear me play—”
“Au contraire,” Dustin butts in with a smirk. He hands Eddie his acoustic guitar, propped up in the corner. “I think we’d all love a little concert.”
Eddie gives you a look that pleads help me out here, but you’re already invested.
“Concert! Concert!” You chant, laughing when the others join in.
He doesn’t say anything, just slips the strap over his shoulder and quickly tunes the guitar.
“If…you’re…happy and you know it, clap your hands!”
Everyone in the room claps twice. Everyone except Tiffany, who is still wailing.
“If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands!”
Same result.
“All right, all right. Let’s skip to a different verse.” Eddie takes in the baby’s squealing form.
“If…you’re…angry and you know it, do a growl.” He lets out the most ridiculous roar you’ve ever heard, and you can’t help but laugh.
From her mother’s arms, Tiffany lets out a roar of her own. Your giggle catches her attention, and she reaches out for you to hold her.
For a moment, Eddie believes his heart is going to implode from the sweet scene in front of him. He wills himself to concentrate on playing, but the sight of you holding a baby girl weakens his resolve. How many times has he daydreamed about you holding his baby girl that he shares with you? Probably too many times on the job for someone who deals with heavy machinery. In his mind she has your hair and his eyes—though he knows she’d probably gets his curls since both boys have them to a degree.
Tiffany bounces in your arms, enraptured in the music. If Eddie plays Old MacDonald, she’ll be mind-blown.
The soft timbre of Eddie’s voice, enthusiastic enough to capture Tiffany’s attention without riling her up, has your heart beating double time. Though you’ve known from the beginning that Eddie plays guitar, this is the first time you actually get to witness it. It’s as sexy as you’ve always imagined—even if he’s only playing nursery rhymes.
“There we go,” Eddie murmurs as whatever had been bothering the little girl seemingly dissipates. He grins at Max and Lucas. “That should buy you about five minutes before the next meltdown.”
Sure enough, the crying starts up again, signaling the party’s end. Hugs are exchanged as everyone clears out; final “happy birthday’s” sent Eddie’s way.
There’s a small tug on your arm just as you’re about to grab your purse. “Can you tuck us into bed?” Ryan asks, eyes wide. Luke’s at his side, nodding in agreement.
“Of course.” Always the babysitter, you think, but you truly enjoy being a part of their lives. The fact that they also enjoy it makes it even better.
The youngest Munson beams at you. “Maybe you can sleep over!”
“Uh, not this time. Sorry, kiddo.”
After teeth have been brushed and bedtime stories have been read, you retreat back to the kitchen. Eddie is clipping open bags of potato chips, and you start to gather any used paper platesto toss in the trash.
“You don’t have to,” Eddie says, gesturing towards the stack of disposable cups in your hand.
You cock your brow and smirk. “Do you really wanna clean all of this by yourself?”
“Fuck no.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He smiles back at you, shaking his head when he notices icing smeared on the back of a kitchen chair. “Should’ve put the boys on clean-up duty” he grunts.
“Then everything would just get shoved under the couch and they’d call it a day,” you point out, and he readily agrees.
Once the floor has been swept and the leftover food has been placed in the refrigerator, you have no valid excuse to stay any longer.
“I should get going,” you say, plucking your keys from your bag and twirling the chain around your forefinger. “I hope you had a good birthday.”
Eddie nods as he walks with you to the front door. He holds it open for you, then follows you out to your car. “Yeah, it was great. Especially your gift. It, um, meant a lot.” A slight rosiness tinges his cheeks, and he pulls you in for a hug.
You return it easily, your arms wrapping around his torso. Both of you hold on a beat longer than necessary, but you can’t seem to pull away.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear. He leans in; for a moment, it seems like he’s going to kiss the top of your head, but he takes a step back. Eddie’s done it so many times in his mind before that he almost forgot he doesn’t get to do it in real life. “Get home safe, yeah?”
“I will.” You duck into your car, giving him a small wave before you pull out of the driveway. As you drive, you watch Eddie trudge back into the house from your rearview mirror.
Once he’s inside, he closes the door and breathes out a sigh. He adjusts himself over his pants, painfully aware that he’s half-hard from a simple hug. Looking towards the bedroom he shares with Brittany, he pivots away and beelines towards the Tupperware of cookies you’d made.
Taking a big bite, he chews thoughtfully, delaying the inevitable. If only he could curl up next to you instead of her. He chuckles at the insanity of the idea and takes another bite of cookie.
“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#dad!eddie#AYW#AYWS
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hi y'all. im sorry ive been off tumblr lately but im here. also i just finished the final ep of stranger things 4 and i have heavily mixed feelings
#HI. IM GONNA RAMBLE IN THE TAGS BECAUSE I CAN.#GOD i have such mixed feelings on the ending!! tbh i have mixed feelings on the season as a whole!!#i know everyone absolutely loves s4 and ppl are calling it the best season and i definitely enjoyed it but like...#i dont feel like it even comes close to being the best season? like dont get me wrong. it was cool. i liked most of the characters they -#- introduced. i liked the concept for the story. the visuals were super cool and the writing was solid.#but it just feels like its kind of beating a dead horse y'know? there were so many plotholes and so many unanswered questions#not in like a cliffhanger kind of way. but just in a We Tried Putting Way Too Much Into One Season And It's Paying The Price#also like. apparently they're planning on doing a season 5?? what???#i love the series as much as the next guy but.. that's just too much. there's only so much you can do with a series like this.#idk. i loved the first ep or two of season one but it kind of dropped off for a while until the final few eps#its hard to type out my thoughts but ive been rambling to myself loudly in the living room bc my mom passed out like half an hour ago and -#- i swear my thoughts are more cohesive irl. i have SO much to talk about but there's not enough room to type it out and i feel really -#- stupid for rambling out when no one cares online but it's no different than rambling to someone who's passed tf out so idk#okay. back to my rambling.#for a lot of the characters it just really felt like they like. went backwards with character development at first.#the character had the exact same growth in season 3 except it made sense then. now they're just doing it over again.#mike goes from being an immature and kinda self centered dude to a caring and mature boyfriend for el.#steve pines over nancy but steps back because he's more mature than he was and doesn't wanna ruin her relationship with jonathan#robin faces her insecurities to help her friends#will ambiguously pines over mike and doesn't want things to change but relents because change is inevitable#lucas wants to fit in with the 'cool kids '' more than his friends do but he still chooses his friends over anyone else#dustin is the nerd with a heart of gold who plays a big part in the success of the team#el tries to fit in and lead a normal life but realizes that that's bullshit. also she saves the day at the end as usual.#jonathan is kinda shitty towards the start but tries to make it up by the end and mostly does that. nancy is conflicted bc of steve so -#- jonathan kind of knows and he can't really make it up entirely to her.#nancy is badass who loves jonathan but also kinda loves steve and she's emotionally shut off so she just lets it sit and it bleeds out -#- into her interactions with others. the trauma doesn't help either. she still comes through tho bc she's a loyal friend who deeply cares#it just feels so similar to s3. idk. they've already gone through this development once before so seeing it again just feels stale.#im about to hit the tag limit but i wanna keep going so i might make more posts i think. idk.#we'll see how it works out tonight! im so sorry y'all for the brainrot
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— 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?: 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬
+ 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝: multiple stranger things men
+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature
+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content
+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so…i’m back. It’s been so long since i’ve posted the first dick analysis, and i just couldn’t resist doing one for the stranger things men! this is just a filler post until i finish writing some of my requests and outlining the first few chapters of my eddie munson series. until then, please enjoy this, i had a lot of fun just spewing all of my whore thoughts into this >.<
+ part two here !
+ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: the small font is a stylistic choice. if you are having trouble reading, i suggest you adjust your iphone’s settings!
eddie “the freak” munson
↻ length: the social pariah, eddie munson, is many things. he’s loud, obnoxious, witty, and…a freak. yeah, he roleplays with 15 year old kids, and yeah, he very well may be a super senior–having repeated the 12th grade three times–but those things don’t really make him a freak. no, the thing that makes him a freak is the unnecessarily long, heavy piece of meat that swings between his legs like a pendulum.
coming in at just about 6 inches flaccid, and 7.5 inches fully erect, eddie takes the cake for this lists’ third longest dong.
↻ width: eddie’s a pretty skinny guy, and so, his dick’s probably not much thicker than a febreeze bottle. but it’s okay, because skinny dick, is still good dick.
↻ color: he’s pale but it’s definitely a little tanner than the rest of his body. i’d say it’d progressively get darker the closer it gets to his tip (which is a beautiful mauve-y color that darkens when erect).
extra:
↻ groomed: it’s the 80s, and he’s a metalhead with a wild mane of hair on his head, so naturally, i think he’d rock a little bush. just a little one, but on occasion, he will tackle it with some scissors and trim it down a bit.
↻ curved: oh, god, yes. deliciously curved to the left with a plump, mushroomy head.
↻ veins: duh! two thick veins that begin underside the shaft and split into a fork just beneath the head.
↻ how he uses it: gonna just go ahead and say it, and this may be controversial, but i honestly think eddie would love putting you in a full nelson. now before you scrunch your nose in disagreement, just LISTEN. he’s such a skinny motherfucker but i just know there’s some muscle under those black skinny jeans and tees. i mean, we all saw that scene where he pinned steve against the wall with a broken beer bottle to his throat—albeit because he was defending himself—but that’s neither here nor there. eddie fucks, and he fucks good.
steve “good hair” harrington
↻ length: steve is a ken doll personified. except, unlike a ken doll, there’s actually something down there besides a flat surface—so rest assured, you won’t have to worry about bumping purses when doing the woo hoo. but here’s another controversial opinion: steve doesn’t have a big dick—it’s average, and that’s okay!
steve’s dick rests at a firm 5.3 inches flaccid, and a good 6.5 inches erect. not too big, and not too small. just…perfect, like him.
↻ width: for what he lacks in length, he makes up for in girth! yeah, you’re getting 6 inches, but he’s hitting you with that stretch—and it burns, but in the best way imaginable.
↻ color: the prettiest boy in hawkins has to have the prettiest cock, right? i think it’d be pretty light in comparison to the rest of his body. when i think of him, i feel like he’d be one of those guys who are kinda tan but when they take off their pants, they have the most bizarre looking tan lines ever, and their ass is brighter than the moon! anyway, i digress; it’d be pretty pale with a mean, red tip when aroused, and strawberry pink when it’s soft.
extra:
↻ groomed: yes. he keeps it really simple. shaves it down real low but not enough to the point where he’s bald.
↻ curved: as straight as a pencil
↻ veins: has one on the top of his shaft that wraps around the head
↻ how he uses it: we’re talking about steve here. steve the womanizer, steve the public enemy and panty dropper of seasons one through three. he’s all about that doggy style life. don’t let his himbo persona in season four fool you, that man is a whore! he likes to get down and dirty, and if that includes you on your hands and knees, with your face shoved into the sheets while your tears drip down onto the sheets…then, so be it.
billy “ima turn you out” hargrove
↻ length: i am not a billy hargrove enjoyer but i can’t sit here and lie to you, i just won’t. that silly little fella’s got a cock the size of a bull…
8.2 inches.
no, i’m not taking criticism. he’s big, end of story.
↻ width: the length matches the girth, sis. if you think you can take him—you can’t. and if you think i’m kidding—i’m not. think coke bottle, but longer.
↻ color: tanned to perfection, because of course it is, he was a lifeguard for god sake!
extra:
↻ groomed: like steve, he keeps it pretty well trimmed. although, sometimes, he lets it grow out so he can show off his happy trail. and a sight to see it is!
↻ curved: oh my days, it curves to the right—like a lot. a real captain hook.
↻ veins: absolutely covered in ‘em, but the most prominent one resides on the side of his shaft and if you really look at it, it kinda looks like a little lighting bolt.
↻ how he uses it: you can’t have sex with billy and expect intimacy, that just isn’t happening. he likes it with absolutely no strings attached and no eye contact. so, expect to be thrown into all types of obscure positions, his favorite of which includes you with half of your body hanging off the bed and him pounding mercilessly into you from behind. honestly, as long as billy gets a view of your ass, he doesn’t really care.
jim “big zaddy” hopper
↻ length: the biggest dick on this list. a true monster cock, that is it, that is all.
but if i had to give a specific measurement…9 inches. whether that’s his measurement soft or erect, i’ll let you be the judge of that.
↻ width: he’s so thick that he’d probably split your pussy open if he didn’t properly prepare you, and even then, you’d still never be prepared enough :(
↻ color: i’d say it would be one or two shades darker than his complexion, and the head is definitely not pink. more like a rouge mixed with a little brown.
extra:
↻ groomed: jim just gives grown man, you know? like obviously, he is one, but i just think there’s something so sexy about a man with body hair! so, i don’t think he’d keep it well trimmed, or trimmed at all for that matter. and if he does decide to take a pair of scissors to it, it’s very, very rare.
↻ curved: surprisingly, no. it’s straight, but extremely heavy and he has big man balls to match.
↻ veins: yes, just like billy, they’re all over. with a dick as big as his, he’s gonna need all the veins he can get to transport the appropriate amount of blood to it.
↻ how he uses it: very traditional, very cute and sweet. likes to fuck in missionary because he’s a real man, and he prefers to look into his lover’s eyes while pleasuring them. however, that doesn’t mean he’s a prude. if he wants to, he could put you in a full nelson, but he usually just opts for something that won’t throw his old man back out :)
© all content belongs to arachine 2022. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper credit.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington smut#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x reader smut#billy hargrove smut#jim hopper x reader#jim hopper x reader smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things x reader smut#stranger things smut
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praline sweet
Mature | 1.8k | Read on Ao3
This is a belated birthday gift for @tboyeddie! Sorry this took so long, I had like 4 versions of this going at once and couldn't figure out which one to actually use! I wanted to give you something soft, though, so hopefully this fits the bill! <3
CW: Omegaverse, Alpha Eddie, Omega Steve, Pre-heat fluff, Rated mature for a little dirty talk and some indecent thoughts
The call is unexpected, when it comes. Robin's voice is familiar on the other end of the line, but what she says-
“Hey, Steve hit his pre-heat today, and the party is bringing him stuff to add to his nest, just to make our scents stronger. Pick out a t-shirt or something and bring it over when you have the chance, yeah?”
Eddie blinks, almost pulls the phone away to look at it, make sure it's real, because what?
“I uh, I didn't know Steve was so close to his heat.”
“Yeah, it's kind of early, but he said that's not weird. All you need to worry about is bringing something to add to his nest. Got it, loverboy?”
That's kind of a big deal. Omegas in pre-heat want to be surrounded by the scents of their pack, to have that sense of familiarity as their bodies slowly adjust in preparation for what is basically a three day sex marathon. This is Steve's first heat that Eddie is really aware of. He'd apparently had one a couple of weeks after the spring break from hell, but Eddie had still been hospitalized at that point.
So now, three months later, Steve's heat seems to be right on time. The fact that he apparently wants Eddie's scent in his nest makes the alpha nearly kick into a purr. It ignites something deeper, too, the desire to bundle Steve up in the nest, to hold him and keep him safe, to stretch him open on the alpha's cock and help him through his heat instead of leaving him to suffer alone-
And yeah, killing that train of thought immediately while he's still on the phone with Steve's best friend.
“Yeah, sure. I'll head over this afternoon.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Eddie.”
Eddie can't resist bringing a few things with him to Steve's. He grabs a couple of shirts, soft ones he's worn so much that they nearly have holes in them, and an old sweatshirt that used to belong to Wayne, that Eddie snagged for his own not long after he moved in.
Somehow, Eddie makes himself wait until after lunch before he heads to the Harrington house. He's nervous the entire ride over, only because he doesn't know how this is going to go.
The thing between him and Steve is new, like three-weeks-old new, like only-Robin-knows new. It's a gentle bond built through joking and talking and just spending time together, and it's so, so fragile, at least to Eddie.
Because Eddie's never dated anyone - much less courted an omega before. What if he fucks it up? What if he does something wrong that makes Steve break up with him and their friendship is ruined and Robin fucking kills him for hurting Steve? Fears that he has yet to voice, that he’s shoved to the back of his mind every time he's seen Steve since they started dating.
He tries to shake it off, but he’s still nervous as he rings the bell, announcing his arrival. It’s not long before the door swings open to reveal Steve on the other side. He looks a bit rumpled and sleepy, like he’d been napping before Eddie showed up, but he chirps when he recognizes the man on his doorstep.
Eddie grins as Steve blushes at the involuntary reaction, but doesn't comment on it. “Hey, Stevie. Robin said you needed some stuff for your nest, so I brought you a few things.”
The omega seems to melt a bit at the gesture, and the scent of praline pecans fills the entryway as Steve says “Thanks, Eds. You wanna come in?”
Eddie nods and follows Steve inside, waiting briefly for the younger to lock the door behind them before he guides Eddie up the stairs to his room. He passes the clothing over to Steve, who immediately takes one of the shirts and presses it to his face, inhaling Eddie’s own black tea and clove scent.
“I didn’t realize your heat was so close,” Eddie says as he props his hip against the desk, and Steve glances at him as he begins to add the shirt into his nest.
“Yeah, it’s actually early. I was gonna talk to you about it, but I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I, uh. I think being around you made it happen faster.”
Eddie tamps down the alpha pride that swells at the admission, that Steve’s omega is reacting to him, to his presence. “Well, we can talk about it now, if you want?” he asks instead, and Steve turns to look at him, the second shirt in his hands. He wrings it nervously before turning and tucking it into the walls of the nest, a bit closer to the head of it this time - easier to smell. Eddie’s Alpha preens.
With that task done, Steve takes a breath and turns to face Eddie once again.
“I like you, Eddie. Like a lot. I had some time to get to know you even before we started dating, and I really, really like you. I know we’ve only been together a few weeks, so it feels way too soon to ask you to spend my heat with me - I don’t want you to feel like you have to, just because you’re my alpha - but I’d really love it if you would stay for some of my pre-heat? If you want to, no uh, no pressure or anything.”
His alpha. Steve called Eddie his alpha.
Eddie’s been so worried, so scared of fucking things up that he’s been taking it slow, carefully feeling out each step before moving on to the next. He hadn’t realized that Steve was so far ahead, that he was already so comfortable with claiming Eddie as his after only a few weeks of dating, not even courting yet. And Eddie wonders-
He’d already been half in love when he asked Steve out. Had Steve felt the same?
For the first time since he decided to take that chance, to ask Steve on a date, Eddie’s worries disappear as Steve’s claim instantly quells the alpha’s fears. He crosses the room to stand in front of Steve, and can’t resist reaching out to touch him, one hand settling on Steve’s neck and the other on his waist. The omega hums softly and leans into the contact, and Eddie smiles.
“Stevie, sweetheart, honey. I would love to stay with you; for your pre-heat or your full heat, whatever you want.”
Steve blinks at him, hazel eyes wide with surprise. “You don’t have to, Eddie-”
Eddie shakes his head. “I know, but I want to. Gotta make sure my omega is taken care of during his heat, yeah?”
Hands snap to grab Eddie’s shirt as Steve actually trills, the sound high and delighted before it shifts into a pleased purr. Eddie laughs and tugs Steve into a sweet kiss, and feels the vibrations against his hands, his lips. It quickly peters off into a gentle hum as they just stay there, holding each other and trading soft kisses.
“I am a little disappointed,” Steve says after a moment. “I was kind of hoping we could have our first time before my heat hit.”
Eddie shrugs and rubs his thumb over the twin moles on Steve’s cheek. “I mean, we still have a few days, technically. If you're, you know, feeling up to it. If not, our first time doesn't have to be during your heat. I can help you this time without fucking you.”
“You say that, until I’m in the middle of it, crying and begging you to fuck me, to come in me and knock me up.”
And fuck, the mental image that conjures up. Eddie takes a deep breath to settle his Alpha, to calm the sudden desire that shoots through him at just the thought of it. The scent of sweet praline floods his senses, and he can practically taste the teasing undertone as Steve grins at him, clearly aware of what he’s doing.
Eddie gives a playful growl and goes to respond, but is cut off when Steve's hand shoots up to his face, covering his mouth as he yawns wide. He forgot that Steve had been sleeping when he showed up, and probably hasn’t slept enough to satisfy his instincts.
“Is this what the next few days are gonna be like? Lots of naps?”
“Not just naps. There’s also cramps and snacking,” Steve corrects, and Eddie just shakes his head fondly. He reaches over to grab the sweatshirt and passes it to Steve. “Well, let’s get you back to bed, then. I need to run back home and grab some stuff since I’m staying, and I’ll feel better knowing you’re all cozied up and safe.”
Steve smiles, something soft and gooey, but as he takes the sweatshirt and holds it up, reading the logo on it, it shifts. He looks at Eddie, unimpressed but with a teasing shine in his eyes as he says “Atlanta Braves? Really?”
Eddie just shrugs and doesn’t bother to hide his grin. “Wayne's from Georgia.”
The omega just shakes his head before pulling off the sweater he’s currently wearing and slipping on the navy sweatshirt. “This feels wrong,” he says even as he tucks his nose into the collar, eyes fluttering as he inhales the alpha’s scent, and Eddie chuckles.
“I’m sure the Cubbies will forgive you this one time, sugar.”
Steve rolls his eyes but smiles as he climbs into the nest, and Eddie watches as he bundles himself up in the soft blankets. He looks so fucking cozy, and the alpha can’t resist leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I'll be back soon, okay?” he says, earning a soft chirp from the sleepy omega.
It only takes Eddie about half an hour to collect what he needs and get back to the Harrington house, and Steve is still asleep when he makes his way back into the bedroom. He toes off his shoes and shakes the omega gently, trying to wake him as carefully as possible.
“Stevie?” he says and gets a soft grumble in response. Eddie huffs a laugh and tries again. “Baby, I’m not gonna get in your nest without permission. You gotta invite me in, sweetheart.”
Some part of Steve’s sleepy mind must recognize what Eddie’s asking, because a hand appears from the mess of blankets to grab Eddie’s shirt and tugs him closer. The alpha smiles and lets himself be pulled forward until he’s laying with Steve, their arms wrapped around each other and Steve’s face pressed into his neck.
Eddie’s purr rumbles low in his chest as he starts to doze, and the room is flooded with the scent of spiced pecans and home.
#cj i hope you like this!!#we've talked before about pre-heat fluff and i just wanted to give you some of that#i did try to make it spicy but they were not cooperating 😔#so fluff it is#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#joey writes#omegaverse
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y'know like barbie
ao3
It's Erica who gives him the idea, incidentally. Though she carries herself with a maturity that far surpasses the boys most days and though she's been through multiple life altering events, she does continue to only be eleven. Which is, it turns out, prime babysitting age.
The Sinclairs are going out of town overnight, it's their anniversary -- 18 blissful years, since our marriage can vote we thought we deserved a night away -- and they don't want Erica to spend the night home alone.
Enter Steve, who the Sinclairs trust with their children and who is inexplicably the only person Erica would accept staying the night with her. Steve honestly didn't believe it even as Mrs. Sinclair was saying it. But he smiles and nods, looks over the emergency numbers on the fridge when they're pointed to, nods at the money on the counter for food that he probably won't take, and waves as they walk out the door promising that he and Erica will be fine for the night and not to worry.
It's only when their car is out of the driveway and the door is shut that Steve realizes he isn't really a babysitter. He is a keep children alive while in a dangerous situation and when the situation is over drive them around because you feel bad that their childhoods have been marred by trauma-er which doesn't have quite the same ring as babysitter, and it's a lot harder to say with that rude tone the boys have been favoring. He also realizes that he's never actually dealt with children, or not girl children. The boys had all been older than Erica, when he had started keeping them alive. Max was definitely basically a teenager when he started really dealing with her; and she was usually okay to do what the boys wanted to do, like go to the arcade. Hopper didn't really trust him with El and that was fine, he wasn't sure he trusted himself with El either.
It put him in an awkward spot now though. Staring at Erica in her kitchen, a little afraid to ask the question on the front of his mind which was "What now?"
So he asks the second question on his mind, "What do you want to do that isn't eat ice cream all night?"
Say what you will about Steve Harrington, and a lot has been said, but he always keeps his promises and he always brings a pint of ice-cream for Erica to have when he comes over to the Sinclair house. Tonight he brought three, all different weird flavors he thought she'd like to try.
"Why can't I eat ice cream all night?" She says it with a challenge in her eyes, but he'd bet dollars to donuts that she's just doing it to make him sweat. "Because I've seen you eat ice cream, we've only got enough for two hours at most." His hand migrates as if of its own mind to his hip. "You need more than two people for Dungeons and Dragons, right?"
Her brows raise, for the first time since he's met her Erica Sinclair is stunned silent. Maybe she's just surprised he got the name right.
It lasts about as long as it takes him to notice it. "You'd play Dungeons and Dragons with me?" There's something fragile in the way she asks, and there is the eleven year old girl she's meant to be.
"Sure, you'd have to show me how, but if that's what you want to do I'm game."
Eyes narrowed in a distinctly intimidating way he kind of thinks she stole from Nancy, he does his best to make his sincerity clear on his face. "We need more than two people, but I've got something else we can do if you think your fragile manhood can take it."
He's got a retort at the tip of his tongue about just what his manhood can take and remembers just in time that yeah probably shouldn't make a joke like that in front of an actual child. "My pride isn't that delicate, I think I can handle anything you dish out."
"Famous last words."
He follows her to her bedroom, waiting outside the doorway to let her space stay private until he's told to come in. A clear plastic tub slides out from under her bed, out of sight but easily accessible and when the lid pops off he gets why. Rows of Barbies stacked neatly on top of each other, a mass grave for childhood. Steve has a stuffed bear, fur rubbed off of one ear, tucked up on the shelf of his closet that also got put away sooner than he would have chosen to, when it was too babyish.
“Alright, so who is the, like, elven warrior.”
“That’s not how you play Barbies.”
It’s snapped so fast that he thinks it embarasses her. He tactfully avoids eye contact, pulling out a doll with blonde hair snipped into a professional, if uneven, bob and a green skirt set. She's missing a shoe. “Then how do I play Barbies?”
“That one just won the Nobel Peace Prize, she solved world hunger, but she has plans to kill the Barbie who won the prize in Physics because she stole Barbie One’s research and gave it to NASA claiming it was her own.”
“Right, of course.” This was the kind of shit that happened on Dallas, only Barbie had a lot more awards. “And they’re all called Barbie?”
“Except for Ken, but Ken doesn’t do anything.”
“Well if Barbie just won the Peace Prize wouldn’t she use Ken to kill Barbie so she doesn’t get caught.”
Erica manages a look that is both condescending and considerate. “Barbie can do anything, including get away with murder; but she wouldn’t want to dirty her hands with that sort of thing.”
“And if Ken goes to jail it’s no loss.”
“Right.”
-
So maybe it's more accurate to say that Dustin actually starts it.
Dustin with the shittiest attitude this side of the Ohio, something Robin blames him for.
“Like father, like son.”
“Dustin doesn’t even know his dad.”
“I mean you and Eddie, dingus.”
“I am not that kid's dad. A brotherly figure at best, strong male role model more likely.”
“He’s a bitch because you are, Steve. Maybe if your and Eddie’s love language wasn’t being as bitchy as possible it wouldn’t have rubbed off on your kid.”
“Please don’t put Dustin and rubbing off in the same paragraph let alone the same thought wave.”
Dustin comes sprinting into Family Video on a Tuesday afternoon. “Steve! I need your car.”
“Did you learn how to drive when I wasn’t paying attention?”
“Obviously, I meant I need you too.” His hands are on his hips, eyes rolled. Shit maybe he did get it from Steve. “There’s this theoretical physicist coming to Notre Dame to give a talk on the Multiverse Theory.”
Steve was allowing himself a second to consider whether this was worth it, for once, instead of just blindly agreeing to drive Dustin wherever. The drive sucked ass, but it would put him close enough to Chicago that he could try to find a music store that would carry albums from the international metal bands Eddie couldn’t stop talking about.
It was a second too long for Dustin. “Steve, a theoretical physicist-”
See Steve had this suspicion that the kids did actually think he was an idiot. He was pretty sure that none of them, hell maybe none of Hellfire, save for Lucas realized that every athlete in the school had to keep up at least a 2.5 GPA. Which might not have been anything to write home about but Steve kept a 3.2 for most of high school, until the multiple concussions started to catch up with him. He wasn’t stupid, was the point and even if they didn’t think he was an idiot in a mean way he was a little sick of the shit.
“I know, like Barbie.”
That shuts Dustin up real quick.
“N- no, not like Barbie! Barbie is some girl's toy.”
“Excuse me?” Robin, who told Steve that she would not help him parent his children on work days or any other day ending in y had remembered that Martes doesn’t have one and her shift was almost over. “What does that mean, exactly, a girl’s toy?”
“And,” Steve adds, because he can and because Eddie made him drive him to fucking Bloomington because he was fixated on time travel and needed access to some science journal that only existed at Indiana U apparently, “Barbie is on a research team looking for the Higgs particle so she can start figuring out time travel.”
The bell chiming as Dustin leaves has never sounded sweeter.
He’ll definitely end up taking the twerp to stupid Notre Dame.
-
The thing is that Steve thinks he’s never really stopped being a bitch.
He doesn’t want to stop. He likes being bitchy. It’s fun, when you’re doing it with people you like it’s pretty funny, and honestly he’s kinda like Spiderman. With great power comes great responsibility, he’s only bitchy responsibly now.
And it’s actually perfectly responsible as an older brother type babysitter figure to correct the behavior of the younger siblings by being bitchy. If they don’t learn at home they’ll go out in the world thinking that kind of behavior is acceptable, see Steve Harrington in his early high school days who talked to people like his father did.
So when Mike interrupts El with, “I’m not going to ask Steve, he probably doesn’t even know what a Pulitzer is either.”
He says, “Oh, yeah like Barbie won. Or Nancy will someday, probably. It’s a journalism award, Wheeler.”
And when Lucas corrects, “I don’t actually think you can win an award for comics. It’s still really great though, Will!”
“Barbie won the Kirby Award in 1985 for best artist, I’m sure Will is soon to follow.”
Or when Nancy tells Holly, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to be something important instead?”
“You could be an actress and do something cool like go to space if you want, Hols, like Barbie.” And maybe he says it with a little more bitch than he should that time, but he’s seen the ballerinas in Nancy’s room, she didn’t always want to be an investigative journalist.
It gets to be second nature. When someone starts being shitty about something or to lighten the mood.
Erica doubts whether she should run for student council. It's her first step to being actual president, like Barbie.
Dustin makes a crack about Steve's possible future prospects when he butts in on a conversation between Steve and Robin. "I could do all three, I could be a counselor and a hair stylist and an engineer. Maybe I'll add EMT too, Barbie wouldn't stop at three, why should I?"
Or when Mike sneers at him, "What are you a cop?" All because Steve told him not to buy weed now that Eddie had stopped dealing.
"Ew, no, because you look like a fresh-faced little narc trying to be cool and you're gonna get ripped off."
"What so not like Barbie?"
"The Barbie world has achieved equality at a level that it doesn't need the cops." Eddie sometimes has to get high after a run in with Powell or Calahan who he still doesn't really trust after the spring. Steve has been treated to many a lecture on why the police were a waste of resources.
He lets Mike sit with that for a minute before he adds, "Like Barbie, I am very cool and know what it looks like when I'm being taken for a ride. If you're gonna get pot from someone other than Eddie, ask Hop where he used to get all of his shit."
It doesn't feel stupid, until El comes running into the cabin one afternoon that Steve has decided to join the rebuilding effort. It’s actually just him and Hop, who has started trying to quietly parent him, something he’s not entirely convinced isn’t revenge for telling Wheeler that Hop has smoked pot before. Steve is pretty sure El was crying when she came in, something he bumps up to a certainty when he sees how awkward Hop looks right now.
“You mind taking that kid? It’s been a long time since high school.” he rubs the back of his neck, Steve does appreciate that he has the decency to feel weird about asking. “If it’s anything outside of big brother shit I can take over.”
He does let himself get suckered by that big brother line.
El is facedown on her bed in a clear ‘leave me alone I’m crying’ pose but he figures he’s already here it’s not like he can turn around and tell Hop that he was too afraid to approach a crying teenage girl. Like that wasn’t the whole reason he’d been sent in the first place. “Hey Ellie, can I come in?”
She sits up, tear tracks plain on her face but no more are falling, and nods in that endearing, aggressively certain way she’s got. “Is everything okay?” He pauses and asks, “Was it Mike?” because he knows that’ll be the first thing Hopper asks when Steve comes back out.
“You are worse than Dad.”
“That stings, Ellie Bell.”
She takes a deep breath, steeling an already impressive will, “Lucas says it is okay to just want to be happy right now, but all they talk about is what they are going to do. Dustin is talking about going to admission early, Will talks about talking to Dad and Joyce about art school, Lucas worries about his sports and scholarships, and Mike talks about classes that count twice. I do not know what I want to be. I do not know why I have to be anything.”
“You guys have been through a lot. I don’t think anyone would blame you for taking time to just be a kid.”
“What if I never want to be something? What if I do not ever want to go to college?”
He’s made his way over to the bed with her, sits tentatively on the edge like he’s seen Joyce do before. “Then you don’t. You’ll probably have to get a job at some point, but that doesn’t have to be what you are. Lucas isn’t a landscaper just because he mows lawns in the summer.”
“You don’t think Dad would be upset?” she asks.
“I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would really make Hop mad. And you might change your mind. I've been out of school for almost two years and I’m only thinking about college now. Or you could go to college and change your mind about what you want to be. You could be a hundred things, you could be anything! Like Barbie.”
He feels like an idiot almost immediately. A jerk quickly after that. He’s made El’s genuine crisis part of his stupid running joke. But something settles in the room. The underlying tension, the thing that had the hair on the back of his neck raised. He realizes, now, that her powers had probably also been on edge.
"Like Barbie." She says it with a graven seriousness, like Steve's dumb little joke is a mantra now.
"Yeah, and you're a sophomore you don't have to have your whole life figured out right now. And don't take life advice from Henderson anyway, he thought it was a good idea to raise an Upside Down slug as a pet."
He mostly just used it to be a bitch though. Because it was fun. No, it was what he was good at. So good at it he didn't even have to try.
Because Steve had a plan to be bitchy. Specifically to Mike Wheeler who kept flirting with Steve’s boyfriend while taking advantage of his hospitality. Sure it was at their stupid Dungeons and Dragons game, and yeah Steve was the one who said they could host the game at his house now that Eddie had graduated. Yes, he knew Eddie didn't mean anything by it when he responded and usually didn't flirt back with the kids. But it was still the kind of behavior that had to be gently corrected, for Mike's sake because if he didn't stop things were going to get drastic.
His initial plan is already in action. He encouraged El to come along to watch the Party play. It was, admittedly, a half hearted plan. Wheeler got so awkward anytime El was around he mostly just hoped that would keep him from trying anything.
It isn't. Eddie starts to describe a new character, "Blonde and statuesque, she has a long bow in hand and delicate elven features."
And even though El is sitting a few feet from him Mike perks up the way he always does when there's a new NPC to flirt with. He is going to have to have a talk with Eddie about letting the kid try out a bard.
He does at least have one other tool in his belt. "Oh, like Barbie."
Steve knew what he'd get as he said it. A groan from Dustin, who falls for this as being sincere about as often as he falls for the dumb-dumbs and dipshits line -- which is everytime for the record. Will and Lucas keep their laughs small, enough that they're covered by Erica's snort. The original Hellfire crew mostly looks confused, it's becoming less and less their default as they warm up to the Steve he is rather than the Steve they thought they remembered; but he likes to keep them on their toes.
Eddie is charmed. He can tell. Sees him duck his head behind his screen and his binders, trying to preserve the stern and scary dungeon master image. That apparently isn't possible if you're smiling like an idiot at your stupid boyfriend, so he's been told.
And Mike has maybe been on the wrong end of the joke a few more times than everyone else. He turns an interesting shade of red, two parts anger and one part embarrassed is Steve's guess. The foot stomp is unexpected, but he expects its been passed down the Wheeler line as a shared signal of outrage. "Not like Barbie, this isn't some stupid kids game. She's probably a hot, wisened archer ready to reward us for helping her village, not some stupid doll that you're obsessed with."
Eddie's blank face with the twitchy eyes has fallen into place when he sits back up from behind his screen. His things aren't going according to plan, panicked face. "I think that's a good place to end things this week. Wheeler, Henderson, Jeff, and Lady Applejack you've all cleared enough experience to level right? Do that before next week."
Steve knows enough to keep his mouth shut while everyone packs up to leave. Sends a small smile to Erica on her way out to the family minivan, he knows she struggles a little being the youngest at the table even if she won't say it. He has to imagine that the outburst had stung a bit.
"You gotta be nicer to little Wheeler." Eddie chides once everyone is gone, halfhearted at best when he's telling Steve off into the soft skin of his neck. When he feels the admonishment more than hears it.
"I'm not mean to Mike." He says on instinct, he does try not to be. "And he started it."
"Definitely think you started the Barbie thing, Sweetheart."
And well, yeah. "I Barbie all the kids equally."
Eddie hmms Steve can feel the vibration of it through his back and on his neck. Eddie is about to start something he better plan on finishing. "He asked Hop where he should get weed."
Oh. "I didn't think he'd actually do it!" And then, "Is that why he keeps flirting with you, revenge?"
"No, he's got a bunch of misplaced jealousy because Will and the girls think you're hot." He toys with the edge of Steve's shirt as he says it. Perpetually cold fingers brushing the clothes warmed skin beneath making him shiver.
"The girls don't think I'm hot."
He hums again, nips at the blush red skin at Steve's neck. "El used to, Max definitely has a taste for jock.
"That's not my fault, you let Mike play a bard." He wishes he didn't sound so desperate.
"Wanted to leave the Paladin spot open for you, baby."
"I'm starting to feel convinced, we could go upstairs and you could show me your character sheet."
The things he'll say to get laid.
"Don't think I can do that Stevie, smooth as a Ken doll down there. Could show you the actual character sheet though."
His back is cold as Eddie pulls away, smirking unrepentant as he lets Steve have the tiniest taste of his own medicine.
"Barbie has a very active sex life, actually." He's never been one not to double down. "Let me show you the fun we can have without getting your dick out."
-
He does leave it alone for a little while, even though he really, really doesn't want to. But despite what his friends, his fifth grade report card, and his mom might think; Steve is capable of keeping a hold of his worst impulses when he wants to.
So he lets opportunity pass him by.
He makes no comment about Barbie when Eddie talks about how John Carpenter is a film auteur. Not even when Dustin tries to define auteur for him. Incorrectly, but Robin comes to Steve's defense.
Barbie goes unmentioned, barely when an argument breaks out about Nobel prize winners, of all things. He thinks the kids argue more now than they ever have like it's the only way they have to get their bloodlust out now that the Upside Down was closed. He was quickly boxed out of the conversation, even if Erica kept sending him little glances over everyone's heads. (She'd let him have Peace Prize Barbie a couple weeks ago and maybe he was a little obsessed.)
Holly wants to be a vet now, a singing vet who is also on TV, but mostly a vet. She tells him all about it while he waits for Mike to find his shoes? Definitely not his quarters for the arcade, the day any of them bring those is the day Steve brings the nail bat back out. He’s one impulse purchase away from getting one of those little coin dispenser belts that the employees have -- Gareth just quit, maybe he still had his? Mike's frown is a little less general annoyance at Steve and a little more confusion when he's finally ready to leave and Barbie has gone unmentioned.
He almost breaks again when Eddie starts talking about sports. Or he starts talking about NASCAR which is close enough for Eddie, he has a surprising taste for racing for someone who never wanted to put his van on the starting line at parties. A woman led a Busch Series race for the first time, what a year '86. He's got no opinion on Barbie's ability to drive at all.
He could let a joke go. He could be nice. It wasn't so out of character that it needed this kind of attention.
-
Mike has forgiven him by the time the next session rolls around. Delayed two weeks after Eddie screamed so loud on stage that he couldn't speak for two days, and then again for Jeff's emergency appendectomy. Eddie has stopped leaving pointed gaps in conversation for Steve to fill with mention of Barbie, he has had his thinking face on instead which is good for Steve about as often as it isn't.
He leaves it alone. A little bit of non-life threatening surprise is good for the soul, or something. Listen, he’s made it this far by only asking questions when shit is about to get really, really bad and Eddie’s thinking face has only resulted in something bad once or twice -- and they probably should have spent more than a couple minutes negotiating that particular kink anyway.
When the kids start showing up and nothing has come from the thinking face, he assumes it was just for them anyway. He settles in to see whatever shit Eddie is going to do.
"From the ditch you pull a human man, a paladin. His plate is dirtied by his time on the ground but clearly gleams in its typical state. He's handsome, a square jaw and fluffy brown hair-"
"Ugh is this Steve? You already made us do a quest for him," Mike complains, maybe he hasn’t completely forgiven Steve for that last interruption.
Steve has, by his own count been the inspiration for at least three NPCs for this campaign: a white light faction rogue, Sol, that the party had to rescue from the dungeons of the nightmare King after he was caught sneaking into the bedrooms of the prince -- like it was Steve's fault that Wayne had super hearing; a young fighter from the gladiatorial combat ring who helped the party rescue a group of kidnapped children that were going to be used as bait in the next round of fights; and the most obvious Prince Stefan who sent the party on a quest to kill his betrothed a Duke called Thomas the Boarish and rescue his knight Rowen and beloved Bard Edwin -- it's not like he could unkiss Tommy, and he could be a dick but boarish was dramatic.
He was not this paladin, assuming Eddie was telling the truth about saving the Paladin he'd made for Steve.
"Cut the out of character chatter, Michael, before it starts counting in game. The Paladin before you is handsome in a bland, approachable, non-threatening way," Mike opens his mouth again, how is that not like Steve surely perched at the edge of his tongue and stopped in its tracks by elbows from Erica and Joey. "He introduces himself to his rescuer, Will the Wise, 'Thank you, kind sir, I would have been down there for ages before my lady noticed my absence. I am Sir Kenneth.'"
"What deity does he serve?" Will asks, something suspicious drawing across his face.
"Is there a holy symbol on his armor?" Gareth follows up. Gareth has been backing a lot of Will's plays lately, Steve thinks something might be going on there but he hasn't wanted to deal with Eddie teasing him for being a meddling matchmaker, again.
"There is no identifiable holy symbol on his clothes or armor." Eddie says, there's a mischief in his eyes, the way he tilts his head with quiet challenge and smiles.
"What God do you serve?" Erica asks, blunt and to the point. She gets cranky when her rogue doesn't have anything to stab.
"'The Lady in Pink,' he answers."
Any time Eddie reveals lore shit there's always a bunch of people talking over top of each other. It always turns into the kind of mass blob of shouting that Steve has a hard time parsing out, especially these days. Eddie somehow manages to distinguish not only people but the things they're saying and keeps his cool enough to keep the story going.
"Roll your insight, Gareth. Jeff, with a 15 history check, you have heard some whisperings from your homeland about a newly ascended goddess but not a name. Dustin, you're not getting shit with a 5 don't even try that but my back story says shit with me. Will, pretty sure that's a cleric spell but I'll let you have it he's a Neutral Good alignment. An 18, shit, yeah Garebear he does seem to be telling the truth that is the deity he follows; but that isn't the whole truth, you know a lot of the newer pantheon have a colloquial name and a true name."
"I'm sorry," Lucas says, "we aren't familiar with your lady. What can you tell us about her? Why would she leave you there? And that's a 14 on persuasion before you even ask."
"Why would I have asked that, Sinclair the elder? He has stars in his eyes when he speaks, 'before she ascended she was already limitless. A powerful warrior, an expert marksman, a mage beyond compare. Her power grew and grew until the only place left to explore was godhood.'"
"And what's her real name, if we wanted to spread the word?" Joey asks.
"'Oh she's everything. She's the lady in pink, she's the goddess with the golden mane, but before she ascended she favored one name I assume she has kept it.'"
"What is it?" Mike asks, perched at the edge of his seat.
"Oh no," Dustin whispers, a dawning horror on his face.
"'Barbara, though she preferred it shortened. Nicknames you call them," Steve sees the joke, knows where this is going a split second before reality breaks through the haze of fantasy for the players around the table. Eddie's smirking now, smile too pleased and too attractive. "'Y'know like Barbie?'"
#steddie#steve harrington#steddie fic#and in 1996 when steve and eddie are expecting their first kid - a daughter#erica gifts them the barbie camper so steve has something while he waits for the real thing#listen you know that oh like barbie post with the steve speaking image below it#i saw that and this happened#i just wanted to try out a little steve and erica bonding#and it turned into steve being a bitchy big brother#steve and eddies love language is being dicks#but their secondary love language is not letting the bit die and i do believe that#so eddie had to take it up when steve set it down
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watched that new jennifer lawrence comedy on netflix and like. should we make it steddie?
steve’s a rich kid who grew up having to be self sufficient because of his parents traveling constantly for work. he’s basically a mini adult, but because of that, he sees himself as a lot more mature than the rest of the people his age and by the time he’s ready for college, he’s missed out on a lot of the social milestones that young men his age are experiencing. instead of going to prom, he’d hung out around the house with his weird nerdy band geek best friend having marshmallow eating contests and watching bad rom coms. instead of going to graduation parties, the two of them had built a tent in the harringtons massive backyard and gone night swimming before camping out.
enter his parents, who are less worried abt steve coming out of his shell for his own independence and comfort and more worried that he’ll embarrass them at his ivy league in the fall. there’s been a long line of harrington men attending yale and they’ve paid a lot of money to even get steve a spot there, so if he fucks this up, if he doesn’t join the right clubs and make the right friends, they’re worried it’ll all be a waste.
so they put an ad on craig’s list. eddie and his bandmates are trolling the boards, looking for any odd jobs they can find to try and raise the cash they need to record a demo at the local studio. jeff points it out as a joke and, after laughing at the poor pathetic dweeb whose parents think he’s such a dud they’re trying to set him up with a stranger, they scroll on. but later that night, eddie pulls up the page on his own phone while he’s lying in bed. the offered amount is more than enough to pay for their studio time and then some. eddie calls them and sets a meeting.
when he gets to the harringtons beach house, he’s nervous. he’s a townie and townies are rarely invited into the massive homes that line the shoreline. he knows what he looks like and he knows that the rich tourists who infest the beachside towns every summer tend to steer clear of him when they see him around.
but he needs the money and after meeting with the couple, he thinks this kid probably needs all the help he can get and so he decides to meet their son steve.
turns out steve’s a lot more attractive than he’d imagined and he’s only a couple of years younger than eddie is. he’s also a lot more flirty and charismatic than eddie had assumed. turns out, steve doesn’t lack the ability to make friends or get dates, he just really hasn’t been interested in anyone… at least, not until now.
they hit it off almost immediately. eddie’s never had this much fun with anyone he’s ever tried to date before. steve is funny and smart in very specific ways and his best friend, robin, is a riot. eddie’s not sure how steve’s parents don’t see any of that, but then steve tells him all about how he’d grown up basically alone, how he’d had to make a lot of his own fun growing up, how he’d rarely ever even seen his parents between the ages of 11 and 18. they hadn’t even made it to his high school graduation. steve reveals to eddie that he’s not even sure he wants to go to yale at all, that he only agreed because he’s not sure what else to do.
and eddie tells steve about his dad, abt how he’d gone to jail when eddie was 13, on a job with eddie in tow. he tells steve abt how his mom was heartbroken afterwards, would barely get out of bed to even pick him up from school. he tells steve abt the car accident, the flashing lights of the police car that had picked him up one day and taken him to a foster home before wayne had been called down from upstate to come collect him. wayne had moved out onto the island, trying not to disrupt eddie’s life more than he had to, but prices down here were so much higher and he’d had to work all the time. he’d done so much for eddie and eddie is so grateful… he just wants to pay him back anyway he can.
they reveal things to each other no one else knows and suddenly, as the summers coming to a close, eddie realizes that he’s been falling in love this whole time. but before he can tell steve abt the deal, before he can apologize and come clean and confess his feelings, steve has some kind of massive blowout with his dad. and his dad—in all his anger—tells steve the truth. he tells steve how steve is so pathetic that he and his mom had had to buy him a boyfriend.
steve is, obviously and understandably, beyond devastated. he confronts eddie with tears in his eyes, begging eddie to tell him it isn’t true, that his dad was a liar and he’d just known where to hit him hardest. but eddie can’t deny it. that is how all this started.
eddie doesn’t see steve again, not around town, not at any of their usual haunts, and soon the school year is starting. steve, eddie assumes, has moved into his dorm at yale and is, hopefully, making new friends. by the time thanksgiving break comes around, eddie can finally think about steve with only a tiny ache in his chest. he and the band have recorded their first demo, thanks to that harrington money, complete with the saddest love song eddie’s ever written.
and suddenly steve is there in the bar eddie works at, where he’d been taking steve on their nights out all summer. his brown hair looks extra soft and he’s wearing a quarter zip with the yale logo emblazoned over his heart. they stand there and stare at each other for a moment too long before they both try to speak at the same time.
“no, me first,” steve says, and eddie really can’t deny him this. he’s the one who ruined everything, after all. “what you did to me was terrible.” it’s straightforward and factual, but eddie’s face burns. “you hurt me. a lot.” eddie watches as steve swallows. “i told you things i’ve never said out loud.” eddie opens his mouth to speak, but steve powers through. “but now i’m up in connecticut and i’m meeting all these new people. and some of them are great. but i can’t help but compare them to you. everyone i meet, i think of you. and no one is as fun as you, and no one makes me feel as good. no one sees me like you did.”
eddie’s speechless for a moment, mouth dry. he swallows. steve’s looking at him expectantly. “i was always honest abt how i felt about you, stevie. i really was falling in love with you. or… i mean…” eddie pauses, runs a hand through his hair. “i mean, i love you. i am in love you, like, currently. ongoing. probably in perpetuity which, uh, you know. is like, forever or whatever.”
“yeah?” steve asks softly, a small smile curving on his lips. “forever or whatever?”
eddie can feel himself returning that small smile, nodding. “yeah,” he responds, “ no biggie, though.”
steve laughs. “i kind of disagree. cause i don’t know abt you, but i’ve never been loved in perpetuity before. seems pretty big to me.” eddie shrugs as he watches steve close the distance, smiles widening. “i’m pretty sure i love you too, you know.”
“pretty sure?”
“i’m trying to be a little aloof abt it. not reveal my whole hand too soon.” they’re standing chest to chest now, eddie can feel steve’s breath on his face, they’re so close.
“right. makes sense,” eddie murmurs, staring steve’s wet pink mouth. and then they’re kissing.
and they kiss until gareth comes into the bar for the start of his and eddie’s shared shift and turns the club soda spout on them.
they have a lot to talk abt. but thanksgiving break is a whole week long and after that it’s only two weeks until winter break. eddie has a lot of time to make it all up to steve, in any way he can, in perpetuity.
#steddie#here have this thing is this anything???#steddie au#steddie ficlet#steddie rom com au#steddie blurb#steddie fanfiction#steddie ficlets#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steve harrington x eddie munson
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Dr's. Barnes and Rogers (Part 2)
Ok so we all really enjoyed part 1 amiright? I've done part 2 and it's still not done because this is now my new life 🎀
I am tagging a few people I hope I got everyone! @pattiemac1 @plusultra-kitten @marvelsgirl4ever @saranghaey @xonickibaby @vickie5446 @sarcastickiddo
My warning for you is it's mature and it's Doctor Kink
You had decided to at least investigate the offer made to you by the Doctors a bit further, so you called up Dr Barnes and he happily scheduled a visit for the next evening.
You had a lot of questions, but you were also quite excited at the idea of having a baby and living a potential life of luxury all in the name of science. You were also confused as to why the two doctors were the only candidates for this trial. Surely that wasn't ethical?
⚕️
Back in the familiar office, tonight the air felt more electric with potential. The two doctors, Bucky and Steve as they asked you to call them from now on, were pleased you were there and were keen to make you feel comfortable.
"So... I want to do this. I think I do anyway. But I have questions..."
They both grin broadly and wave a hand at your questions. "That's such good news sweetheart" Bucky says, a bright smile lighting up his face. "Don't worry about the small print just yet! As one potential candidate we need to do a few tests before you sign up!"
You smile a little at him and his excitement, but couldn't help feeling a little worried at the idea of other candidates. What if someone else got the place?
"Perhaps we can get the ball rolling now Buck?" Steve says helpfully and they smile at each other. "Great idea! Let's get to work..." You stutter a little as he takes your hand and pulls you back into his examination room. "Wait you want to do this now?" You manage to blurt out, scanning between them both in a daze. "No time like the present hmm? The sooner we know, the sooner we can answer those questions and get your paperwork started!"
Bucky whirls around the room and grabs various bits of equipment that you don't really notice whilst Steve just stands there and chuckles at his friend. He notices your trepidation and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder gently. "Don't worry honey, its all normal for these kinds of things. We're here to help you."
You smile as Bucky finishes his prep and they both head to the door. "Sweetheart I need to you strip down totally for this one, and then legs in the stirrups okay? I'll explain the rest as we go." And with that they leave the room.
You stand there shell shocked for a moment. You had planned so many questions and not at all for a physical exam this evening. But you supposed it made sense. Not point signing up for something if you weren't actually able to do it right? Plus the added fear of having this opportunity stolen by someone else made you keen to get going!
You slipped your clothes off and tried to get comfortable again on the bed, legs resting in the stirrups. You covered your chest with your arms and wiggled in place, feeling very exposed.
After a moment they both came back and were less subtle about appreciating your naked form. "Told you didn't I?" Bucky muttered and Steve just hummed in approval as they took their places. Bucky between your legs and Steve up by your head.
"So we have to do two things in this examination. One is to check your general health, and the other is your reaction to stimulus. All you have to do is relax and go with it, ok?" Steve spoke above you, placing his hand right at your shoulder and you could only nod as you heard Bucky pull his gloves on. "Oh...okay, I'll do my best..." You mutter as his hands smooth over your thighs.
Bucky asks Steve to come and look at your folds, pushing them open as he rubs fingers over them. "Hmm already stimulated?" He mutters to Bucky and they both chuckle before he heads back up to you.
"Already doing so well honey" he says catching your concerned expression before pulling on his own gloves. Steve then takes his time examining your upper half, pressing into your neck and stomach, measuring your heartbeat and blood pressure all whilst Bucky is taking notes and watching your exposed heat.
Then Steve's fingers start squeezing at your breasts, he pulls and tweaks your nipples making you whimper and squirm. "Ok easy sweetness, does that feel good?" You struggle with an answer until Bucky taps your thigh slightly firmly.
"You have to tell us the truth. If you don't give us an accurate response we can't tailor the insemination process for the optimum results. So tell us what feels good and what you need ok?"
You nod and let out an exhale. "That felt good" you pant as Steve continues his tweaking and twisting. As he does, Bucky rubs his fingers through your folds, now embarrassingly soaked which he doesn't hesitate to mention. "Think you like that a lot don't you sweetheart?"
"Hmm yes!" You groan as he rubs soft circles around your clit and your legs shake in the stirrups. Steve leans down and continues to torment you. "What about if I sucked on your tits honey? Would you like that? While Dr Barnes plays with you?"
You whine and nod as he chuckles at you, moving away to latch on to your sensitive buds. Bucky tuts as he watches on, before grabbing a vibrator and pressing it to your sensitive clit. Your hips buck as he turns the dial up and you squeak at Steve's mouth sucking at your nipples.
"I need to... Can I please come?" You strain as the pressure in your tummy builds towards a peak. Bucky hums in consideration before pulling the vibrator away. "No sweetness, we need to build you up a little more. Plenty of time for that later."
You pant as Steve also pulls away leaving your nipples swollen and sensitive in his wake. You wriggle in position, desperate for some relief but finding none in your current predicament.
"I want.... Need more, please" you moan, not caring how desperate you sound. This is already the best experience of your life and you don't want it to end.
"Tell us what you need now sweetheart" Bucky says, gently tickling at your thigh, running painfully close to touching your heat. You almost sob as you try and maintain your dignity, "just wanna come..." You feel him pinch your soft skin, "you want to come, please Dr. Barnes" he says darkly, but it sends a thrill over your body. "Please, Dr Barnes, please can I come?"
They both chuckle and settle at the lower half of you, where they promptly ignore you and talk between themselves. "I think that one to open her up?" Steve says motioning to something on the table next to him. "You wanna taste?" Bucky says and you feel two fingers probe your heat and you watch as they suck their gloved fingers, moaning as they enjoy the taste of you.
"Do you think I should try...?" Bucky says and Steve chuckles before they glance at you. Steve sinks his fingers into your pussy and curls his fingers making you moan and nibble on your fingers. "Hey beautiful? You want something your mouth and I'll make you come like this?" His thumb circles your clit and your eyes roll backward.
"Yes please Doctor Rogers, please" you beg and they laugh again as Bucky moves away and comes up to your head. He carefully adjusts the bed so your laying flat and pulls so your head hangs off the edge. He strokes your hair gently as your fingers grab at his trousers, pulling them downwards and moaning as his cock springs free. You struggle to grab it so he guides it into your waiting mouth, groaning as you immediately suck, reacting to Steve's torturous fingers.
"Holy fuck" he growls as he watches his cock disappear into your mouth, throat bulging as he slowly fucks you. You moan around him as Steve is more fast paced, jerking his fingers and rubbing your clit harshly as he grabs you towards your peak. You feel hands pawing at your breasts again as your legs shake and hands claw at leather.
"Think we've found a sweet spot here" Steve says as he feels you flutter around his fingers. When your face is covered in spit and tears Bucky pulls out of your hungry mouth and watches with hot desire. You moan and whine, "Please can I come, please?" Steve's fingers jerk and suddenly you are coming hard the sensation is enough to have you shaking as it ripples through your whole body.
Bucky lifts you back on to the bed properly so you lay more comfortably. He perches on the bed next to you and strokes a gentle hand across your face and hair. "You are doing so well sweetheart, we need to do one more check and then we'll have our results ok?"
You are on cloud nine as you nod at him, managing to murmer a quiet, "yes doctor Barnes." Your moan becomes louder as you feel a rubber cock press against your pussy and stretch you out before pressing further in. "It's big..." You whine and he strokes your face again. "I know sweetie but I know you can take it. Gonna need to be a good girl and take it for us ok? Don't want to miss out do you?"
You moan again as Steve starts pumping the cock into you, a steady but slow pace. You feel every inch of it filling you up, but it feels so good. Bucky strokes your hair again and you try and focus on what he's saying, "so you like having your pretty tits played with hmm? And a cock in your mouth, is that right sweetie?" You feel heat rush to your cheeks but you know you have to admit it. You want to be a good patient after all.
"Yes Doctor, it...ah.. it felt really good..." He smiles and leans down where you instinctively kiss him, his lips capturing yours in a breathtaking kiss. He breaks it as you whine at Steve's actions, increasing the pace below. "I think you should thank Dr. Rogers for making you come by letting him use this pretty mouth? What do you think?"
Your head floats as you find yourself nodding enthusiastically at the idea. He smiles warmly and moves away whispering something to his colleague as they swap places. Befor Steve has even got to you, you are hanging over the edge of the bed, ready and waiting.
"Eager little thing aren't you?" He chuckles, guiding his cock into your mouth as Bucky had, slowly choking you on his long length. As you sucked, you felt the another rubber head pressing at your ass and squirmed at the sensation.
"Easy honey, Dr Barnes knows what he's doing, just relax" Steve reassured you but they both waited until your body relaxed again before continuing. In moments you are being fucked from both ends, rubber filling your ass and pussy, and Dr Rogers working your mouth.
You squeal around him, pleasure rocketing through your body as the pace the set makes the table beneath you creak and your body shudder. You hands claw at Steve's thighs and your hips buck, chasing the actions of Bucky. It doesn't take long with the overstimulation of your senses before you are on the peak of pleasure. As Bucky did, Steve removes himself as you cry out, your climax crashing through your body, vision turning white as he coaxes you through it.
You lay there panting for a moment as they whisper hushed tones, very excited by the sounds of things. You can barely move for the pleasure still running through your body but you slowly come back to your self as a glass of water is pressed into your hands and a blanket is laid across your body .
"Sweetheart, that was amazing, you did so well. Do you feel ok?" Bucky asked stroking your arm and brushing your hair out of your face. "I'm not complaining about any of that" you giggle in between sips of cold water.
They both chuckle and pull up a chair each next to you while you relax. "So I think we agree that you are a perfect fit for the trial, are you still happy to take part?" Heat rushes to your face nod shyly behind your glass, giggling a little at their pink eager faces.
"But can I ask something now?" They nod as you sit up a little in your seat. "Are you the donors in this trial?" Steve coughs a little and blushes a deeper shade of pink. Bucky decides to come clean, a bit, and goes back to stroking your hair.
"We are sweetness. We know it's not usual, but this is our experiment and we want to be involved in every aspect. From choosing the right woman, to providing the sperm and anything else needed along the way."
"And what is this experiment in aid of?" You ask, but he brushes the question aside. "That's the boring bit, don't worry about that, just know that if you want to be involved, you are fully accepted."
You smile after a moment. "Ok let's sign the paperwork..."
Part Three
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky imagine#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#doctor steve rogers#bucky x reader x steve#steve x reader x bucky#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#steve rogers doctor#doctor kink
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◆ 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ◆
Kinktober is finally here. Sorry this took so long... I have been quiet sick. This is my first time writing this event as well, so eh. If it's bad im sorry. But, without further ado, let's get started. ♥︎
All works are mature, viewers be advised.
Masterlist
—
Day 1: Car Sex - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : A trip turned sour due to a storm. But, luckily, Steve knows just the thing in turning this gloomy day into a more steamy one.
Day 2: Voyeurism - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Biker Gang Leader doesn't like sharing unless it's to do with his best friend.
Day 3: Shower Sex - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : When Bucky comes from a long and stressful day, he only wants one thing... You bent over.
Day 4: Food Play - [STEVE ROGER]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : It all started with a simple dinner and a movie. But when Steve asked if you wanted dessert, you knew your sugar was about to spike from more than just the sweetness of the fruits and chocolate.
Day 5: Exhibitionism - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky couldn't keep his hands off you on a regular basis. But when he sees you in such a sexy outfit, he has no choice but to drag you to the nearest bathroom.
Day 6: Rough/Possessive sex - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You wanted to show your hot-headed lover that you could protect yourself. And what better way than to go looking for his number on rival....
Day 7: Thigh riding/dry humping - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You sweet producer boyfriend wanted to share something with you. But your neediness had other plans.
Day 8: Sensory Deprivation - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were his work of art, and he loved to watch you squirm under him.
Day 9: Cock Warning - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky kept getting lost over and over again. Becoming increasingly more frustrated with the technology in front of him as time passes, it's a good thing you are here to help him cool off.
Day 10: Bondage - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : It's Bucky turn to know what it feels like to have rope pull and tug on his beautiful skin, and he can't help my whimper at the sheer idea of it.
Day 11: Bike Sex - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky had begged for weeks for you to go for a ride with him... Cavinging in, you finally realize how pleasurable it is to ride his bike.
Day 12: Size Kink/Size Difference - [STUCKY]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your two professors were more than happy to show you some tips and tricks to help you study.
Day 13: Breath Play - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky can't help but send death glares to any man who tried to have your attention for too long. Too bad you don't belong to him… yet.
Day 14: Marking/Biting - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Wanda needed your help with trying out one of her experiments, and let's just say Steve was about to never let you leave the bedroom ever again because of it.
Day 15: Dumbification/Corruption - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bad Boy Bucky wanted to change for you. Be the better man you deserved, but what if you ended up changing more than him?
Day 16: Spit Play - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were in love with the enemy, and oh, how it was it exciting.
Day 17: Fingering/Squirting - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You needed him, any part of him. But Steve wanted to see you squirm. To see you cry and beg for him to satisfy you.
Day 18: Toys/Mirror Sex - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Steve couldn't decide what gift to buy you while he was on a mission in paris. So he bought them all and now wants you to try them out. Every. Single. One.
Day 19: Dacryphillia - [STUCKY]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?
Day 20: Sex pollen - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were gifted an Asgardian plant from Thor since he knew you loved greenery. Little did anyone know the pollen had some weird side effects when inhaled.
Day 21: Temperature Play - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your undead lover had finally come back from a late night hunt, finding you shivering from the winter weather. But do not fret, as he was...skilled in keeping others warm-ish.
Day 22: Double Penetration - [STUCKY]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You're the newest member to join one of the most famous rock bands. And luckily for you they are all hot...and fuckable.
Day 23: Praise/Body Worship -[BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Overhearing for so-called friends make fun of your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Doll cry.
Day 24: Cum eating overstim - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Stevie couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.
Day 25: Caught in the act - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You wanted to help your boyfriend relax. It just so happened that some poor soul decided to interrupt.
Day 26: Sir Kink/Mafia both - [STUCKY]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were hiding a big secret from your two loving boyfriends. What happens when they finally find out?
Day 27: Succubus/incubus - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Halloween is filled with spooky ghost stories and haunted places. But what if you end up walking right into a nightmare that was hiding a dream?
Day 28: Tentacles - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You're a Mercenary, searching for your next job in the galaxy. Little did you know, being stuck on a wateland planet was about to gift you more than just galactic credits.
Day 29: Monster Fuckers - [BUCKY BARNES]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You loved him, and you were going to prove it.
Day 30: Werewolf On Heat/Breeding - [STEVE ROGERS]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat, let alone know you could have one since you weren't a wolf... but here you were, and Bucky was going to help you through it.
Day 31: Dilf And Filth - [STUCKY]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your professors just want to help you learn and gain knowledge. Your first lesson happened to be very educational...
—
© 1-800-JJBarnes. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.
#1-800-jjbarnes#marvel#jjbarnes#bucky#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#mcu steve rogers#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers headcanon#steve rogers smut#steve rogers#steve rogers fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x you#james buchanan bucky barnes#james bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x plus size reader#mcu kinktober#kinktober 2023#kinktober#bucky barnes x y/n#stucky x reader#captain america x you
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Steve only agreed to go out with Tommy after their parents set them up because he “owed” his dad for ruining a potential business partnership for him at a dinner party.
To the rest of the guests, the man had just tripped and embarrassed himself but he knew and Steve knew and Steve’s dad knew: Steve had tripped him. But the guy had groped his ass when he crossed him on his way to the bathroom. He had it coming.
And even if his father had agreed with him after Steve told him the truth, he still needed help landing another client since his most profitable opportunity turned out to be a big ol’ creep. A date with another client’s son. Young, rich, good-looking, a single dad. It didn’t sound that bad.
And so Steve met Tommy.
At first, Tommy was… good. He was charming, cute, a praiser and a joker but the more Steve got to know the less he liked. After a while the compliments stopped and the commanding requests began. Get me this, pick this up, cook me, blow me, dress me, feed me, drive me, me, me, me.
But if Steve wanted or needed something? Tommy was sooo tired and busy. He hadn’t even made an effort to meet Steve’s friends yet. Plus he was always making Steve feel dumb and unimportant, saying his job was silly, even if Steve made almost as much money as him with fewer hours.
Telling him not to ‘worry his pretty head about it’ when Steve asked for clarifications or wouldn’t talk to him about work because Steve ‘wouldn’t get it’. He talked down on Steve all the time and offered him money to “buy himself something nice” in a degrading manner as if Steve was nothing more than arm candy for him.
The worst part was when he realized Tommy… wasn't funny. At all. All his jokes were based on making fun of other people. And he was the only one who laughed at them. He was no better than a bully. He… kind of sucked.
And Steve would’ve loved to never have to see him again. But the problem was he had fallen in love with Tommy’s daughter, Tarja. Because Tommy might have been a terrible boyfriend but at least he was a good enough father. So the weeks Tommy got Tarja, Steve spent most of his time with her.
She was just a delight. Cute, smart, and actually funny. She had the most deadpan sarcastic humor a 6-year-old could manage and it cracked him up. She was also super creative and loved drawing, reading, bedtime tales, and coming up with stories of her own.
Her emotional maturity was impressive, better than her father’s actually, and one of Steve’s favorite things about her. He’d never forget the day he went to pick her up from school and she’d been upset. When Steve asked her how he could help she had calmly explained what had happened, how it made her feel, and what she could do about it… over ice cream, obviously. It made him wonder what kind of person her other dad was like because she had clearly not learned how to communicate like that from Tommy.
And the thing is, Steve had always wanted a kid, ever since he was young all he wanted was a family and even if Tommy wasn’t great he just couldn’t make himself leave the connection he felt with Tarja. And he couldn’t just come out to Tommy and say: ‘Hey I wanna break up, but I’d love to keep seeing your kid,’ that would land him at best a punch, at worst in jail.
There was also the fact that, no matter how much he tried to deflect, Tommy’s comments were starting to get to him. Maybe Tommy was as good as he’d get, maybe he was dumb and uninteresting and the only thing he had going for him was his looks, maybe this was his only chance for a family. So he stuck it out. Cherished the times when they were all together.
And then he met Eddie.
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#stranger things#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#trans eddie munson#i wrote something#this got away from me#and now its a 5 parter
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Velvet
my skin in your teeth
summary: you’re meant to eliminate creatures from the upside down, but something — or someone — has got a hold on you lately…
warnings: 18+, blood drinking, biting, allusions to sex, smut, maybe a bit of obsessiveness, and hint of implied soulmates. to be honest, i don’t really know what this is. just wanted to write something. also thanks @myosotisa and @blueywrites for the additional vampire inspiration. 🤍
vampire!eddie munson x f!monster hunter!reader
Chance and Andy cackle ahead of you, their feet rustling the leaves littering the grass, guns at the ready. Normally you’re on duty with Steve, Nancy and Robin, but the powers at be today have decided to put you together with the biggest assholes of the bunch. Cocky, rude, still bullies despite everything — and yet, some of the best shots in the Upside Down Elimination Team. You suppose there’s some comfort in that. Should things go awry.
Your one goal on today’s mission? Make sure the perimeter of area four is safe. Fortunately for you, it’s been a quiet night. For the guys? They’re not having fun with it. For two trigger happy individuals, an eerily quiet night is an oddity. During your last overnight shift, you, Nancy, Robin, and Steve had managed to take down at least fifty demobats that had come through the gate, along with a fully mature group of demodogs.
The hours tick by. Nothing out of the usual to see. A flicker of movement from a solitary demobat with an injured bat here, rustle of leaves there. But nothing major to note when you return to base once the sun rises and your shift ends.
That is, nothing until three in the morning arrives and you catch the familiar whistle. The crack of a twig in the distance. The rustle of leaves as they draw nearer. A pack of demodogs rush through trees, but the familiar glint of predatory canines draws your attention.
You draw your dagger and throw. The metal slams into the trunk with a loud thud and you shout over your shoulder, “You go on ahead, I’ll take care of this!”
The guys run along, practically bouncing in their steps at the mere prospect of taking down a pack of demodogs on their own. Giddy with it. But your mind? Your mind is drawn to the darkened silhouette in the woods, the one that, given the chance, Andy and Chance would rip apart bit by bit.
And you can’t allow that, because Eddie Munson is yours.
——
It was forbidden; fraternizing with the Upside Down.
Even more so slipping away in the middle of the night to entertain a dalliance with a creature harbored and hemmed in the place where the world had ripped into quadrants.
No one understood how it happened. You’d all seen him die. Had seen what happened when a man was ripped apart by those winged hellions. And yet he’d appeared one night, trembling and starved. A hunger that you’d managed to quench, despite Steve shouting at you otherwise, by slicing your own palm and offering it to your friend.
The friend who peered out from those darkened eyes, lines of deep hunger like spiderwebs crawling from beneath his lashes. You whispered that it was okay, that you wanted this when he stared up at you with worried eyes.
Don’t want to hurt you, he said, sounding so much younger than his now twenty-one years of age. Or twenty? None of you understood this magic. He died at twenty, heart stopped at twenty — but months had trickled by, his birthday passed, and it only felt right to honor it all the same.
Shaking hands had curled around the back of your palm, his lips sliding over wet, injured skin, dripping scarlet rubies onto the forest floor below. Steve whirled around, choked out a horrified breath as Eddie drew in your blood, drew in your essence.
Loud, hungry gulps met your ears, making Steve retch. But you leaned in closer, curled your fingers around his bicep, clinging to him as you slipped away in your mind.
Into that heady, rich, velvety, lush ether.
“Eddie,” Robin warned, as your eyelids drooped, body slumping further into his frame, “Eddie, I think she’s done. Let go of her.”
He fell back, ragged breaths pulling from lungs. And he sounded so familiar, you nearly weeped at it. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, sweetheart —”
Those eyes shifted, changed back into the ones you knew before all of…this. Less haunted, more him, and despite the world tilting on its axis as you fell back into Steve’s arms unconscious, it seemed worth it.
You carried on with it in secret. Your friends decided it was better if, until things got better around Hawkins, Eddie remained nothing more than a shadow in the night. They’d find a way to make things right, but in the meantime…you learned how to keep things secret. How to slip away beyond the outer lines of Hawkins — to find ways to sneak off during patrols. Often, Steve would turn a blind eye. Nancy would wave you onward. Robin would give you a little eye roll and tell you to run along.
It started with conversations in the night. Things you never talked about when you’d known one another prior. And yet — since the day he’d drank your blood, you felt a connection to him in a way you hadn’t before. You would sit side by side, laughing and reminiscing. Dreaming, on nights where the world was quiet and it felt like you were the only two people who existed.
Those meetings changed as the seasons did. His gazes lingered longer. Your hands wandered. His lips glided over yours. Your fingers threaded in his hair. He fisted the back of your thigh and dragged you into his lap, whispered he wanted you against your throat.
That first time had been quick and needy. A frantic thing, with buttons flying, his shirt nearly shredded at the hem to get it off faster. He rolled you over onto your back and pinned you there against the dirt, the ground biting into your flesh, reminding you that you were alive despite it all. And you kissed him, panting into his mouth as his hips rolled furiously against your own, your fingers clutching at blades of grass, nearly ripping them up from the root as your orgasm stole your breath.
It kept on like that for months. Secret meetings, whispered words. His teeth in your skin, your bodies entwined, heart to heart, chasing whatever this thing was between you.
He was euphoria and light in a world filled with darkness, and you were addicted, and nothing would rip him away again.
——
The sounds of the guy’s hoots and hollers of enjoyment over their hunt grows quieter as you approach Eddie. He’s leaning against a tree, the dagger embedded near his shoulder, those dark eyes of his crinkling at the corners as you draw nearer to him. Lips curl back over elongated canines, and you note the swirling lines beneath his lashes, deciding you’ll have to do something about that later when you have more time and there’s no threat of the jackass twins coming back and throwing a wrench into things.
“Sorry I tried to kill you,” you tease, falling into his chest as broad palms slide around your hips to tug you close, “needed to make it look believable.”
“It’s fine, but next time you should try harder.” He draws a sigh from deep within your chest as he leans in to claim your mouth. It’s a quick kiss, doesn’t linger long, his head pulling back to look at you in amusement. Mouth curling into a grin, hair in disarray, dark eyes gleeful in the night. “Didn’t know you could throw a dagger like that.”
“You liked that, huh? Been working on that for months now.”
Your smirk grows as he flips you around, your back hitting the trunk of the tree. He grunts out as you coast a palm along the front of his jeans, grinning ruefully at the way his erection strains against the fabric.
“You did.” A satisfied smile creeps up along your features, heart skipping as he grips the dagger hilt near your head and tugs it free from the bark. The metal glints, the sharpened edge twirling as he toys with it in his palm. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, him playing with your weapon, but the way he’s so leisurely about it — like he’s maybe done this before…knowing how good he is with his hands because you’ve been a very satisfied benefactor of their skills many a time now —
“You okay there? You forget I can hear your heart racing.”
He drags the dagger along the hollow of your throat, the standard issue button up uniform loose there, and then lower still toward the first button. He flicks his wrist and a button clatters against the ground, moves down a few centimeters and does the same to the next, the next, the next.
The knife follows. Falls into a pile of leaves, rustles them. There’s a moment — a quick, flash of time before he’s cutting off your breath in a searing kiss. Lips and teeth and hunger — a ravenous type of love, a ruinous thing that you crave. Fingers curl around your throat, apply the perfect amount of pressure that has you moaning into his mouth. He tips your chin up, up, up. His tongue glides along the skin there, silly nips spliced between, the rake of a fang over the throbbing beat of your pulse.
Heat pools in your belly. The sort of heat you know he can sense, your heightened arousal never to be hidden thanks to newer senses. He chuckles to himself as his nose nudges beneath your ear, lips toying with the lobe, breath sending chills down your spine as you shudder against him when his free hand slides down the front of your jeans, dragging a lazy circle over the wet fabric covering your slit.
“How long do we have before those idiots come back to get you?” he asks, a sultriness seeping into his tone.
“Long enough for you to feed,” you rasp out on a gasped breath, “or fuck me. Maybe both.”
“What do you want?” he asks, teeth scraping deliciously against your pulse again.
A little bit more, if you push him down a bit and ask him to take what he needs, and he’ll have sunk them into you again, submitting you to the delectable liquid honey that’ll flood your senses once he does.
The anticipation is one thing, a clanging cymbal that heats your blood. The knowledge that you can do this for him — that you enjoy it. It’s frighteningly empowering. Knowing it’s you who has kept him for so long— that it’s your blood that sings to him. Some might call it wrong; your friends had their own reservations and fears about it, understandably so.
After that first time, you got better with it. Quickly made sure to learn when to stop, how to stop (even if you often didn’t want to).
Sex had been one point of connection for the two of you. And that had been wonderful in and of itself. You craved him in ways you had never craved another. But this? Him having a part of you within him, your souls quite literally becoming one every time he drank from you — that was another level.
A sort of intensity that often made you both lose control. Whatever it was, you were irrevocably changed. This wonderful man, this creature you were meant to kill — the love that drew you into the forest like this, his hands making quick work of your jeans, tugging them down to your ankles, as his mouth licked at you furiously.
A gasp heaved from your chest. Fingers clutch in his hair as he pushes your hips back against the bark, fingers gripping tight to the dough of your thighs, keeping you spread out salaciously before him. It’s thrilling, the waves of your orgasm robbing you of your breath at the dawning realization of it, that at any moment Andy and Chance could appear.
That they might see you tangled so deeply in the web of lies you’ve become so tangled with these months, wrapped in the arms of the man who…loves you.
Because it’s forbidden, yes. By all means, if you’re found out it could be dangerous for both of you. They could kill him — would kill him.
But you would rip them all apart for the man who made a mess of you for all others.
You wince. And there’s coo. Eddie’s hands loosen from around your thighs, his body coming up to its full height before you. He lifts your hand, turns your palm up to inspect the splinter wedged into a fingertip. Blood pools from the wound, a scarlet teardrop that coasts down the back of your hand, trails toward your wrist.
Eddie’s eyes darken, and your lips curl up. You say quietly, “Go on.”
It might be wrong, on many levels, the way he brings your hand up to his mouth, tongue dragging along your wrist, the back of your palm, erasing the trickle of blood.
And it’s downright sinful the way he drags your finger into his mouth, eyes hazy and hooded, sucking lightly. Your mouth drops open, eyes fluttering rapidly at the beginnings of that familiar euphoria sparkling around the edges of your mind.
“I want to be inside you,” he groans, making no effort to let go of your offended appendage, “and you know I prefer somewhere private for…that.”
You know he means when he sinks his fangs into you, when he’s inside you, and you both lose yourself to the magic in his bite. Wants to be alone for when that primal desire kicks up within him, and he loses himself in your body intertwined like that.
“Eddie,” you whisper, dragging him down to the ground, onto the jeans laying sprawled across the floor. “Please. It’s been days.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, hissing out a breath as you make quick work of his belt buckle, the sound of a zipper ramping up your heart rate, “because your schedule has sucked this week —”
“Please,” you urge him as he helps you up and over his thighs, sliding you down his length like the thousands of times you’ve done this before.
His breath stutters against the curve of your throat as you rise and fall steadily over him, injured hand splayed over his heart.
“Please.”
There’s always a sting. It’s only a brief moment. A soft prick of pain like that of a needle. Only it’s really two, and they immediately are replaced by his tongue to soothe away the ache. A healing balm that oozes into your bloodstream. When he latches on again, it’s a bubbly, almost buzzing feeling that spreads through you. The feeling of sifting slowly through sinking sand, like dragging your fingers through water. Your mind numbs, a feeling of floating — of lightness unparalleled has you sinking further into him, the rolling of his hips beneath you tethering you to reality. Here and there, on the precipice of something earth shattering. It’s always like this with him.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers against where he’s bitten into your collarbone, into the skin peeking out from the collar of your shirt, “God, I love you.”
And he’s rolling you over, hands on either side of your face, eyes closed in blissfulness. The forest floor at your back, your thighs around his hips, bodies connected in a practiced dance. You marvel at his features, missing that point of additional connection, cupping his cheek instead. He’s told you you taste like the sweetest nectar, like heaven itself. Says it’s not like this with anyone else. That you’re divine, velvet, rich. You’re ethereal and his. And it takes everything in him to restrain himself, to tamper down the throbbing of his heart when he’s drinking you in, to not take too much. He could lose himself in you, in the bliss of your coupling, in the perfection of your essence.
You both come with a cry, and, as always, hate when it ends. There’s no time to hold one another, to kiss along his bare skin as he keeps you close to him. Not with the fear of Andy and Chance appearing at any time, fresh from their hunt, with murder on their minds.
Instead he leans down and cups a hand around the back of your head. Presses his forehead to yours and whispers of his love, devotion, desire for you. It’s a promise for later, sealed with the softness of his lips against yours, and he’s gone…slipping into the shadows.
No longer next to you, and yet forever marked on your heart.
——
A pair of white, well-loved Reebok’s sit near the door.
Paintings and sketches are scattered around the living room.
Further in the home, Eddie listens to the familiar thump-thump coming from down the hall. Can hear the reassuring inhale and exhale of your breath.
It’s night once more, and you’re finally off work, finally able to catch up on some sleep. Have slept most of the day since you got home, now that he thinks of it.
The bed shifts as he joins you once more, kissing along a bare spine, blankets curling low around your hips. He chuckles at the memory of you earlier, nearly kicking the door open on the hinges, ready to reprimand him for showing up unannounced while you were on patrol, only to end up ridding him of his clothes on your way to rest for the evening.
“Hi,” you whisper, eyes blinking up at him, adjusting to the darkness of the bedroom, “How long have I been out?”
“Few hours,” he tells you, running a hand along your bare shoulder. “Missed those eyes.”
“Sap.” It’s a tease. You see him every day, and even then it’s not enough.
“I made you dinner,” he says, rolling over onto his side beside you, nose brushing yours gently.
“Thank you.” You lean over to kiss him, smiling against his skin. That’ll never get old. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Another kiss. “Today was fun.”
A smirk curls your lips. “It was.”
“I should visit you at work more often.” He’s grinning, the insinuation of his words making your heart stumble happily. It’s music to his ears. “You liked that, didn’t you? Could smell it on you. Bet if I touched you now you’d be wet just from the memory of it.”
He’s not wrong. And he proves that point with the teasing drag of his middle finger along your clit, relishing the soft cry of, “Ed —” that spills from your parted lips.
“Reminded me of that first time we were together,” he purrs, rolling over you. Rolling you over onto your back. Your body settles beneath him, form soft and warm against his. “Forest floor.”
“Sexy,” you tease, breaking off into a whine as he pushes inside, rolling his hips against yours slowly. “All the dirt, twigs and leaves. Nothing screams romance like a nice forest fling.”
“We worked with what we had at the time,” he chuckles, cock dragging along your walls, drawing another moan from your throat. “But I think I like this better. Our bed. In our home.”
Because, though it’s forbidden, you never could handle the thought of being without him.
Had asked him to move in here months ago, into your home on the outskirts of town, to live a quiet life away from prying eyes.
Here, where you could protect him.
Here, where you never needed to be parted from him.
Here, where for a year now, and forever still to come, he’d have a place by your side.
“Next time, just bite me somewhere else, will you?” you ask, when you tumble back onto earth when it’s all over and you’re left satiated once more, body draped over Eddie’s. Eddie’s brows arch high on his forehead. “By the time your freaky magic saliva started to heal the bite, the guys thought it was a hickey and teased me relentlessly. And I can’t be with you from jail if they keep it up.”
“Pretty sure we’ll always be together.”
Forever, he’s promised.
Because maybe it’s his new, more animalistic side. The part of him that recognizes a soul mate. Maybe it’s the way you fit in his arms, the way your lips feel against his, or the way your blood sings to him.
But he thinks, in a way, you feel like his.
And he knows, in his heart, he’s yours.
#lunaloveseddie#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#vampire!eddie Munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fanfic
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Hideout (1)
touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader
Puppy, (see premise post or series)
Summary: An ultra-shy man named Grant arrives with various friends to your family-owned motel. He opens up slowly over the months...and grows a fantastic beard. 🤭
While this part has no mature situations, this series will be 18+ only. MINORS DNI. This is mostly pure setup for the smut in every future chapter. Your media consumption is your responsibility; please choose for yourself if these matters trigger you. If so, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this work is not it! WC ~2k
He first arrives with only his friend—two fit fellas, one white, one black. They pay in cash, share a double room. The most information you get is Tom Smith, the more open of the two, joking that you’ll have to excuse Grant’s shyness.
Grant doesn’t seem to respond to his own name.
He’s a beefy blond, and your impression is the man doesn’t need to have a lot going on up top to get by in life. You do try not to judge, though. Your job is more about keen observation and recognizing the needs of your guests.
These two guests need privacy. They aren’t unfriendly, but they are not chatty. They go as quickly as they came. One night. The room is slept in, but they were clean enough.
The next time they show up they need three rooms, but you only have two available. Tom and Grant bunk up again, and a couple are with them who do not come into the office. The woman has beautiful auburn hair that she covers with a ball cap, and her very tall beau—whose hand she holds—shields himself in far more clothing than necessary this time of year.
They all sleep (you assume) during the day and only socialize at night when the other guests aren’t around.
Not that the party is loud; they simply seem more at ease when it’s harder to see. They stay three or four days, leaving rather suddenly early one night after paying for the time already.
Sporadically, this continues.
Once it’s only the couple. She is very reserved and he is very awkward, but again nice enough. They stay for nearly two weeks, enjoying hikes in the area, always holding hands. The woman relaxes significantly. It’s quite lovely to see.
Mister and Misses Durham, you know them as. They don’t always respond by name either.
Another visit makes five guests with the addition of a beautiful young woman. Her hair is cropped and bleach blond, and she is by far the most at ease.
It’s this visit that you realize they are just staying in their rooms during the day not sleeping, and you find the karaoke machine to take to Tom’s room.
He’s thrilled, thank goodness, because you don’t normally offer up activities to those who don’t ask about them, but Tom bangs on the doors of the other two (you think) couples so they can join him.
You’re about to leave when he asks you to do a duet with him.
Grant throws out that Tom enjoys Marvin Gaye. It’s the most you’ve heard him say, ever.
“I do,” Tom agrees, “but I don’t mess with the master.”
So you have the idea to sing Marvin Gaye—the song—with Tom as Charlie Puth and you as Meghan Trainor.
It’s quite a lot of fun, belting as best you can, finding Grant’s intense gaze on you for the lyrics: I’m like a stray without a home… I’m like a dog without a bone…
Just as quickly, however, you have to go back to the front desk. Duty calls and all.
You make sure they know the machine is all theirs for as long as they want. Their rooms are too far down the line of the building to hear if they do enjoy it for long, but you get no complaints about noise. You hope for the best.
Later that night, Grant comes by the office, carrying the machine with a smirk on his face and the most genuine appreciation on his lips. He has a lovely deep voice you never knew about.
He just talks to you.
It’s all superficial conversation about the area, the weather, what activities you like on your days off, but even that seems a struggle for him.
Tom was not kidding. His friend is extremely shy. He has trouble thinking up casual questions. He can’t look you in the eye until responding, and he doesn’t give more than a few words in answer to anything.
You laugh--you have to—when Grant asks if he can walk you to your door, which…is ludicrous because you live in the house a whopping fifty meters past the main motel. Your family has owned and run this place for three generations. You’ve walked that path your whole life.
“I like walking,” he shrugs, though from the sheer muscles on him, he does way more than just walk. “I was gonna do a lap or two anyway.”
“Well, I have to wait for Clark to show up, but—“ you look him up and down “—okay.”
Grant is so sweet but so stiff. He holds himself with purpose when actively thinking, but you catch him having these distant moments. He withers like a violet, a shell that’s too small for his big body. He seems lost and lonely.
You’re glad to do whatever keeps him company. Your goal for the night is to make Grant smile as much as humanly possible, but that’s difficult when he won’t let you know anything about him.
Twenty minutes later, Clark, a local stoner kid who hardly looks up from his phone, waltzes in, stepping around Grant like a wall that’s always been there and throwing a “hey, man” out with zero regard for a response. Classic Clark. That’s why he’s on night shifts.
So you grab your bag and let Grant hold the door open for you.
Maybe you’ve been watching the Durhams too much when they come around, but you feel a compulsion to hold his hand. You don’t, obviously, because you only just heard this guy speak for the first time today. It would also be incredibly awkward to hold Grant’s hand in the dead silence that follows on your way up the gravel path.
You’re so consumed by figuring out what to say next that you don’t notice till the beast is right there.
An elk walks right in front of you, taller than Grant. From this angle the animal blocks the entire view of your house it’s so big, and you jump back, slamming into your startled escort’s chest.
You both freeze as it moves slowly at a diagonal to the other side of woods, bringing it and its gigantic horns closer still.
It squawks like some sort of awful banshee and stamps huge hoofs. You throw your weight backward and spin to flee, clambering over Grant’s body.
Why you’re so scared, who knows; you should be used to the wildlife, but no creature has ever done this before.
The most shocking thing, however, is how strongly Grant tries to hold you immobile.
The harsh grip on your waist and the way he hisses through his teeth for you to stop should be your hint, but instead you cling to him harder, asking quietly if the animal is gone.
“Uh…” Grant tenses against you. “It’s…it’s just—“ he shudders when you wriggle “—yes, gone,” he bites out, pushing you away by the hips.
He takes a second to breathe, buries his hands in his pockets, and leans forward, gathering himself.
It was scary. That could have turned nasty very quickly. You were lucky Grant was there and calm…except he was sorta the reason you were distracted in the first place.
Finally composed, he sighs and motions forward. “Let’s get you home.”
Two months later, Grant’s initial five o’clock shadow has come in nicely.
You’ve learned the routine of their check-in. There’s only one room available, unfortunately, but if they stay more than two days, there should be another open.
Tom shrugs and offers a playful, “we’ll see. We go where the wind takes us.” He smooths his palm over a fresh fade at his nape and the sharp angles of his goatee.
“And you, I see, have stopped in for a cut with Terrence in town. He loves the three slices like that.” That's how the barber marks his work. Terrence's shop is very popular.
“It’s a good signature. Wish I could'a convinced this big lug to get a trim.” Tom elbows his friend who stares at his feet.
Grant runs his fingers through his golden locks and swallows. “Yeah, well, maybe next time.”
Without realizing what you’re doing, you stand on the rungs of your stool behind the counter and reach for his lusciously full beard.
“Don’t you dare get rid of this,” you chide, fingertips grazing the skin of his cheek beneath the course yet soft hairs.
You should apologize. You should let go and sit back down. You should professionally hand them their key and be done with it, but instead, you linger, watching his blue eyes darken with a primal devastation.
He’s prey caught in a cage.
You release Grant’s face with an awkward laugh and a shake of your head.
Tom makes his own, very knowing face, and winks.
“You should do that more. Touch him. He could use it.”
Grant clears his throat harshly and blushes, mumbling something about which room number you said they had and that he’ll bring the other bags from the car. He leaves. Tom takes the keys with another wink and a sassy tap on the hardwood.
“Thank ya, ma’am. We appreciate it.”
It’s about twenty minutes later when your pen rolls off the edge of the counter, you find a small duffle left where Grant stood.
“He was joking. It was a joke,” Grant blurts when he finds you standing there to give it back.
You just smile and say Tom isn’t wrong.
“So, if you ever just want a hug…” you mutter, taking a chance to scratch at his bearded chin again. “Not like you’re gonna hurt me.”
He looks back inside, as if seeking permission or checking to make sure his friend is still in the bathroom, singing in the shower.
Grant can’t seem to meet you halfway, but he does inch forward, struggling to word a simple ‘yes.’
The tentative embrace starts with only the top of his chest touching you, bent so his butt is out, no pressure on his hands at your shoulders, so you push a little more and a little more. You get close enough he needs to wrap his arms around you instead. He has to stand straight so his chin doesn’t poke your forehead. He whimpers slightly when your own arms encircle his tiny waist.
A few breaths later, he relaxes into a lovely full-body hug, his rough fingertips on your bare skin where your shirt bunched up. You’re both being human, no more, no less, tangled in simple comfort.
Grant tucks his face into your collarbone suddenly and squeezes, not so hard that it hurts but not gently either. The move tickles you with his beard, your hands pawing up his back as you giggle, and he whines like wounded prey.
“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothe. “I can be here, if you want, to hold. It’s okay.”
That has the opposite effect you intended, knocking him out of some soft reverie and launching him back a foot, a necessary but unwelcome distance.
Grant looks guilty, needy, and resigned as he thanks you for returning the bag and sees you out the door.
dividers by cafekitsune and firefly-graphics
A/N: This will be the shortest (probably) of all the parts, and yeah, we get into some smuttier moments pretty quickly... Stay tuned!
[Next Part: Sweet Baby]
[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes
#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers fic#nomad steve#nomad steve rogers#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fluff#steve x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#captain america fanfiction#captain america x reader#captain america x you#touchstarved#touch-starved!steve#hideout series
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Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 1
I fully intended to put out the next part of Well Met, but I got a really bad cold and didn't get far enough into the next chapter to post it, so I'm putting out this one. It's based on this idea here. It is spoilery, so if you don't want to be spoiled, you can read it after the story is done.
I've tagged my regulars as well as those that expressed interest in the original post. If you don't want to be tagged in future parts, just DM me and I'll remove you.
Eddie IS in this just not for awhile. And Steve does have sex with other OCs, the only sex shown will be between Eddie and Steve.
Summary: Steve is an escort with Starcourt Services, who provides omegas to alphas with the money for all sorts of accommodations: arm candy at social events, rut servicing, multiples (including orgies), and sometimes, just sex. Steve is highly sought after, but after a run in with Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson at a fundraiser for a US senator, his world is turned upside down.
No monsters/omegaverse AU. Rockstar Eddie/Sex Worker Steve. Mature (especially in later chapters).
****
When Steve presented as an omega at the age of sixteen his parents were thrilled. They were going to throw lavish parties of all the best alphas in the state. Well, the appropriate ones, anyway. The good ones from conservative families of wealth and breeding.
Steve wasn’t looking forward to any of it. Which is why he breathed a sigh of relief when the doctors tested his fertility they told him he was infertile.
There was a couple other tests they could have preformed but his parents weren’t having it. How dare he be infertile! How were they going to recoup the cost of having an omega for a son, if he couldn’t have been an alpha?
The doctors informed them they had three choices. To the Church where he would be celibate and never seen or heard from again. This is what his mother wanted, but the Church wouldn’t give the money they so desperately wanted.
The second option was as a nursemaid for wealthy omegas who didn’t want to breastfeed their own pups. It had no real financial security because it was dependent on the elite needing a nursemaid in the first place. As callous as the Harringtons were, they didn’t want him to starve.
The final option was Starcourt Services. An elite escort service that would buy infertile omegas to pimp out to single alphas. They had a whole range of services. Rut servicing, gang bang and multiples (including orgies), and cherry popping.
The last one was how the Harringtons would get their money. Whatever the bid price was for an alpha deflowering Steve would be how much they would get for him. Then Steve would work for Starcourt until it was paid off. Then it would be up to Steve to decide what he wanted to do after that.
Most omegas would then go into nurturing fields, like teachers, nurses, and counseling. Not all of them did though, there were some really famous omega escorts in their fifties and sixties. Not even the best paid actors and musicians got paid as much as these escorts. They were lavished with everything they could ever want. Clothes, jewelry, trips to anywhere in the world. You name it, they got it. And they were paid handsomely by Starcourt on top of all that.
There was this really famous male omega simply called Roxie that Steve had on a poster on his wall. His contract had been offered to be bought out a record number of twenty-seven times during his career. People like politicians and diplomats, rockstars and A-listers, the elite and the powerful. Rumor had that one of the princes of Saudi Arabia had offered three times, but Roxie turned them all down.
Steve wanted to be just like him. But he knew that if he voiced that he would be whisked away to the monastery before he could even blink. So threw his lot with wet nurse lot. Saying that it wouldn’t be that bad, he could still save money to go to school and become a teacher.
It was the teacher part that really got Clint Harrington. No Harrington omega had ever been a teacher in their great history and he was going to let his son become the first.
So Starcourt it was.
When he turned eighteen he would be sold off to the highest bidder to take his virginity.
When the time came, Steve was one of the highest cherries ever sold by Starcourt to the tune of one million dollars. His parents went away with their money and Steve got his back blown by a thirty year old pop princess alpha, who still hires Steve to service her ruts on occasion if she’s in town.
*
Steve loved his job. What he loved even more than that was his beta handler, Robin.
“Hello!” he greeted warmly as she slip into his penthouse suite in the morning with his favorite coffee and muffins.
“Good morning!” Robin greeted back. “How was your night with Sir Kensington the third?”
Steve shrugged. “Boring. I loved the gala, but he just kept going on and on about how his estates had a water drainage problem and it kept flooding the basement. The first time I was sympathetic, the second time I was sincere, all the times after that? I could barely keep my eyes open! And! It strictly social, no sex. I would have tolerated it if there was at least the promise of mediocre sex afterwards.”
Robin winced. “Do you want him on your black list?” she asked, pulling out her tablet.
“Yes, please,” Steve said, pulling on a silk robe and sliding out of bed. “Send the usual black orchids and note.”
Robin nodded, making a note on her tablet. “And what do you want it to say?”
“When you take out a premier escort learn better material then irrigation. It was an irritation. If you want that kind of talk, get a mate for fuck’s sake. Passionately, S. Harrington.”
“Ooh,” Robin said with a grin. “It’s bitchy, succinct, and the most beautiful fuck you imaginable.”
Steve grinned back at her. “Thanks. I do so love to be bitchy. So what’s on my docket this week?”
“So you have a rut servicing with movie star Dillon Forrest starting tomorrow,” she said going through his schedule. “His ruts last three to four days and tends to get hungry right around day two. He hates cereal and protein bars or anything that ‘tastes like dirt’.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “As if that isn’t subjective as hell. And of course he doesn’t like the one thing that is the easiest to eat while literally out of his god damned mind.”
Robin hummed in agreement. “I’d try shakes, toss the protein powder in that.”
Steve nodded. “Make sure he’s house is stocked with fresh fruits and vegetables. Add some steaks or whatever to throw him off the scent. I’ll pack the protein powder in my kit.”
She nodded. “Next, you have the New Yorker charity gala with journalist Nancy Wheeler. She wants you in a tux, so I send in Pedro with your tuxes. Her dress is a metallic gold sequin slip dress with black lining.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I hate it when she wears metallic colors, it makes me looked washed out in comparison.”
“Sometimes I think she does it on purpose,” Robin groused.
Steve sighed. Nancy and he had dated briefly in high school before he presented as an omega and she an alpha. She actually had a mate, but Steve looked better on her arm at galas and charity events. That and her mate, Jonathan didn’t like the attention. He preferred to be behind the camera and not in front of it.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” he said. “Put her on the pre-check list.”
Robin nodded. The pre-check list was a way to give the escorts a chance to decline an offer before it was set in stone. Usually the handler did that, but there were some cases where an alpha would pull shit like what Nancy did it was good for the omega to get a feeling of the event before the contract was set.
“Wear the dark blue jewel tone jacket with the black button up. That will prevent you from looking washed out, it’ll complement the dress and you get to one up your ex.”
Steve grinned. “Thank you, darling!” He leaped up and kissed her cheek. “You’re the best.”
“Also a heads up about the gala,” Robin said. “Tommy’s been tapped to escort talk show host Billy Hargrove.”
Steve flopped on the sofa dramatically. “Argh! Tommy’s going to be insufferable.”
Robin nodded. Tommy and Steve were “rival” escorts (it was mostly in Tommy’s head) who competed for the best clients. A three-time Emmy award winning talk show host was more “prestigious” then a one-time Pulitzer winning investigative reporter. Especially since that reporter was Steve’s ex.
“And with Nancy trying to sabotage my look for the night, he’s going to be gloating the whole time!” Steve continued.
“Well, thankfully you have a handler that thinks of these things before hand,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. “If Tommy gets in your face about it, ask Billy when was the last time he had person of color as a guest.”
Steve sat up on the sofa. “He’s never had, as far as I’m aware.”
Robin shook her head. “He does the ‘pandering’ thing around award season to make sure the Academy doesn’t notice his blatant racism.”
“Oh,” Steve said, his eyes glittering with mischief, “that would be a terrible embarrassment if someone were to bring that up at gala for people in news hosted by a black alpha, wouldn’t?”
Robin grinned. “It would be a damn shame.”
“You really are my platonic soulmate!” He jumped off the couch and flounced off to the bathroom. “Anything else for this week?”
Robin shook her head. “The schedulers were wanting to keep this week a bit thin because of how busy next week will be.”
Steve glared over his shoulder. “Don’t remind me. Two multiples and a rut servicing.”
“At least the first one is just a threesome,” Robin said with a wince. “Two alphas that want a cute little omega to freshen up their sex lives without looking to bond.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, but the other is some manager of a rock band ordering a gang bang for them because their shitty song went gold or platinum or whatever.”
Robin grimaced. “Yeah, that is pretty tacky. What’s worse is that they are all alphas.”
Steve dropped his robe with a heavy sigh. “Who’s the rut for?”
Robin looked through her tablet again. “Oh well that’s something at least. It’s Lonnie Goodwin.”
“That is a relief,” Steve said, shimmying out of his white silk briefs. “Lonnie’s good for a laugh. Do you want me to see if I can get you and Vickie tickets to his next Netflix special?”
Robin lit up. “Hell yes. He’s Vickie’s favorite comedian and her birthday is coming up next month.”
“Done, darling.”
He got into the shower and turned on the water as hot as it would go. He needed to warm up his muscles to be nice and limber. He got out and dressed in exercise clothes to go for a run. He put in his earbuds and turned up his music. He stretched and warmed up before heading out.
Walking out of his apartment building, he waved goodbye the doorman, Keith and set off down the road. He was listening to the band who was requesting the gang bang. Steve knew that the best way to get over an awkward beginning was to talk about things they were interested in.
So as part of his prep leading up to a client Steve liked to go through their social media, if they were famous any interviews they’ve done. Watch any movies or shows they’ve been in. Just really diving deep into their lives so that it was less a transaction and more like a date.
It was why Steve was so sought after, he never made his clients feel shame for hiring him.
Unfortunately that didn’t always go both ways. An escort at its core was still a sex worker and people still had problems with those. Even the ones doing the hiring of said escort.
But that’s why each escort had a handler. A beta that could come in and break up anything that might go wrong. Which is Steve loved Robin. He had seen her take down a raging alpha like it was a Sunday afternoon walk in the park. She looked thin and scrawny, but she was scrappy and tenacious.
When he came back from his run he showered again to get clean and then he slipped into some comfortable clothes to lounge around in. He could have done anything today. The Starcourt management team was intent on making sure their omegas had plenty of time between clients to rest, shop, hang out with their friends.
Starcourt omegas were some of the best kept omegas in the country, and it showed.
Steve would have done those other things if tomorrow wasn’t a rut servicing. They tended to be heavy on the exhausting side. Both physically and emotionally.
Because despite being infertile, they still experienced all the things that fertile omega did. Scenting, bonding, heats all came with being an omega whether you had the capability to have pups or not. There were always going to be times an artificial bond would occur, even with all the blockers they were on.
The bond would fade after a couple of days, but it was still hard on the omega when it happened.
Half way through his binge watching of the latest Netflix K-drama, Pedro came in with the tuxedos. They were blue jewel tones of varying shades and styles.
Once they had decided on a short jacket and necktie combo, his assistant Janica came in with accessories to chose from. Once everything was picked out, they went away again.
He debated going out to eat over making himself dinner. A couple of the omega escorts he knew had a professional chef, Tommy chief among them, but he liked to cook his own meals.
He decided to go out to eat, because he was going to be locked up in a room for the next few days and needed to get out for bit.
He got dressed in his favorite blue jeans, a blank tank top, and white short sleeved button up, that was left unbuttons. He pulled on his Nike’s and grabbed his cell phone and keys.
There was a taxi waiting for him by the time he got to the lobby. He loved his job.
He picked a nice restaurant near his place and sat down for a damn fine hamburger and fries.
At the end of the meal the waiter came up to him.
“Just charge the Starcourt account,” Steve said with a wave of his hand.
The waiter’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to do as he was told.
Steve left a hundred dollar tip on the table and then wandered back to the front of the restaurant where the same taxi took him back to his building. Where he finished the series with a tub of cookie dough ice cream.
****
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17
So much world building in this. Which is why it takes so long to get to Eddie. But have no fear, none of what I'm putting in the next chapters is fluff. It will all make sense once we get to the Eddie chapters.
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @lingeringmirth @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr
#my writing#stranger things#steddie#ladykailtiha writes#omegaverse#alpha eddie munson#rockstar eddie munson#so much world building#like lots and lots#omega steve harrington
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(steddie | mature | 2k | tags: established relationship, post-s4, Valentine's Day, Robin is the best, fluff | summary: Steve loves Eddie, he really, really does. He just can't say it. | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is just a four-letter word by @sal-si-puedes | AO3)
"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.
"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.
Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.
"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."
Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.
"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".
They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.
With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.
After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.
That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.
As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"
Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.
"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."
"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"
"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.
"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"
They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.
His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.
It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.
He still does.
So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.
He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.
Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"
That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.
Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."
"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"
Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."
Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.
"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.
"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.
They don't let go for a long time.
It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"
The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.
So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.
"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."
Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"
Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."
"Oh."
It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.
"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."
Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.
"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."
Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"
"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."
Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.
"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."
And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.
Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.
"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"
Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"
Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.
"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.
Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.
"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.
Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.
He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.
#steddie#steddie fanfiction#steddie fluff#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddielovemonth#day 27#love is just a 4 letter word#my writing
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