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shares-a-vest · 9 months

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

Summer, 1995

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

He frowns and looks at his watch.

It's only 6:30am.

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

"Joanie-Bear..."

"Joanie-Bolonge..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, darling."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But – " Steve protests.

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

Wayne rolls his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wayne chuckles, "Figured that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pa!"

His heart stops – or maybe it swells.

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie yelps and cups a hand over his mouth.

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

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

Joanie did say her first word.

Wayne's granddaughter said her first word.

And her first word referred to him.

Her Pa.

His bottom lip wobbles as they lock eyes once more.

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

"Pa!" she dry-sobs.

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

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

The boy has no choice but to give her up.

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

Not that she needs settling now, anyway.

More of this au HERE

#haven't written something for this au for a while #woke up at 4am and decided to finish this #steddie as girl-dads #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #wayne munson #claudia henderson #dustin henderson #lily writes a fic

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hornyhornyhimbos · 6 months

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"Happy Campers" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: When Steve and Reader are having a hard time picking out Halloween costumes, they find their old Girl/Boy Scouts uniforms in the back of the closet, hoping to use them for the party. However, the outfits just a little shorter than they remembered.

Pairing: Husband!Steve Harrington x AFAB!Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1,721

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, cowgirl activities, nicknames (princess), explicit language, this will taint how you see the Girl Scouts

Extra Notes: thank you to @dungeons-are-too-cold for this idea! i love you 🫶🏻

Originally Written: 10/23/2023 through 10/25/2023

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

halloweek masterlist can be found here!

It was a week to Halloween and still, you and Steve just couldn't decide on your costumes.

Every idea you threw at him, he hated, and every idea he tossed your way just wasn't good enough in your eyes. It was your first costume party as a married couple after all, and you were determined to make it the most memorable one yet.

Steve continued holding out random pieces of clothing from your closet, spewing out random ideas that each article reminded him of. "What about the Smurfs?" he asked, holding up one of your white sweaters.

You simply cocked an eyebrow at him, as if to reply, Seriously?

"Okay, maybe that one is a bad idea," he grumbled as he placed it back in the closet. Steve swiped through a few more items, landing again on a skirt this time. "Ooh, what about Ken and Barbie?"

Your head shook in disapproval. "Everyone always goes as Ken and Barbie. Besides, you'd look very silly with blond hair." You giggled at the thought of his gorgeous tufts painted blond for a night.

He grumbled again, under his breath this time, hanging up the umpteenth article of clothing. He sifted through a couple more hangers, getting inevitably closer to the back of your wardrobe. However, you didn't realize just how far back into your wardrobe he'd gone until he held up the next item.

"A-ha," he said, a teasing tone in the word. "You don't suppose you have a box of thin mints lying around, do you?"

A strange sense of nostalgia came over you as he lifted the old Girl Scouts uniform, the familiar shade of green bringing back a whole wave of memories. "I forgot I even had this!" you exclaimed, taking it from him. "I wonder if it still fits."

Steve couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "Curious minds think alike."

Your raised brow from earlier returned, a look of sarcasm taking over all your features.

"Hey, you know what? I think my Boy Scouts uniform is the storage closet. Why don't we try these bad boys on and see if they could work for our costumes this year?"

You snickered, holding the ensemble up in front of you. "I doubt this fits suitably enough to be seen by the general public, but hey, you'll never know if you don't try."

And with that, he was heading down the hall for his own uniform, leaving you to squeeze into the fabric you hadn't touched since you were about fourteen.

You must've hit a growth spurt, you reckoned, because looking yourself over in the mirror, you realized that the outfit did its worst to decently cover you up. The skirt that used to hit just above your knees now barely covered your ass and the button-up that previously hid what little curves you had in middle school now had your tits all but spilling out of it.

"Damn, give a guy a warning next time," Steve chuckled behind you from the doorway.

You turned to face him, met with the sight of his uniform fitting just right. Sure, his shorts were tighter around his thighs than they would've been a few years ago, and the socks were closer to crew length than knee length. But for the most part, he looked okay. It was you who was left looking like a badge-covered slut. "How come you look normal?"

"You forget that Beverly kept me in that shit until they practically kicked me out," he chuckled, walking closer to you. "Enough about me and my mom. We should be talking about you." His lips inched closer to your ear, hot breath fanning around you. "How goddamn pretty you look in that skirt."

The words sent a shiver up your spine, despite how many times Steve reminded you that you were the prettiest girl on the planet. Still, you found a way to joke, "Are you sure that's appropriate talk for a Scout?"

He snickered, the sound warming you from the inside out. "You would've hated to have known me in my Scouts days," he laughed. Steve's hands moved to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. His growing erection was evident as your bodies met, nearly bringing a blush to your cheeks. "God, I bet you had the best cookies in your whole troop."

"No, but…" the word lingered as one of your hands inched between your bodies. His mouth fell open in some mix of shock and pleasure as you grabbed his cock through the shorts, a teasing smile on your lips. "I was the first to get my camping badge because of how fast I could pitch a tent."

Steve leaned forward, leaving a ghost of a kiss where your shoulder and neck met, eliciting a desperate breath from you. "Why don't you show me then, princess?"

In an instant, your lips were on his, both of you fighting with the buttons of his shirt. You finally finished with his buttons as his knees hit the bed, prompting him to sit as you ripped the material off of him.

"By the way," he said in between kisses, "I don't want you to remove anything except those pretty panties of yours."

"Just between us," you started, moving away from him. You bent down in front of him, showing off your bare ass, before turning back to face him and pulling up your skirt. Sliding a hand down the front of your body, you slipped a finger between your folds, teasing both yourself and Steve. "I wasn't wearing any panties," you finished your statement from before, your finger dipping inside your aching hole.

Steve's hand jutted out to grab your wrist, stopping your ministrations. "Hey, no one gets badges without teamwork," he reminded you, pulling you back toward him.

His lips were back on you, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the expanse of your neck while you worked at the fastening of his shorts. He lifted his hips just long enough to help you shove his shorts and underwear off, the fabric hitting the floor with a soft noise that was barely heard over your heavy breaths.

Whines and moans floated out of your mouth and into Steve's as he lifted you onto the bed with him. One of his hands moved between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock and sliding the tip through your folds.

"Steve," you sighed, winding your hips against him, "please."

"Please what?" he asked, his dick still barely touching you, "I need to hear the words, princess."

"Need your cock, please," you practically begged, hips rutting once again.

Without another word, he was slipping inside your dripping core, already throbbing inside you. He let out a string of expletives as you slowly rocked up and down, beginning to create that perfect pace you both loved so much.

Desperate moans filled the air as you started to ride him, his hands roaming every inch of you. "God, you look so fucking pretty right now," he said, eyes raking up and down your form.

"You're not so bad yourself, camper," you managed to laugh. The sentence was cut off by a needy mewl as his cock hit that sweet spot inside you, your veins burning with pleasure as he hit it again.

Absolutely filthy noises filled the air of the bedroom as your bodies rocked together. The smell of sweat and sex was prominent, skin slapping against skin as you both searched for any form of reprieve.

A hand slipped under the material of your fanned-out skirt, the pad of his thumb quickly finding your clit. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, pistoning his hips hard enough to have you thinking about the bruises he was most likely leaving.

Your walls clenched around him, pulling him impossibly further into you, the stretch of him a feeling you couldn't get enough of. Steve's opposite hand gripped the supple skin of your hip, guiding you in the rhythm he craved.

Lips were on lips as you both searched for release, your hands gripping his shoulders as yours inched closer. Crescent moon shapes were surely being left in your wake, holding on to Steve for dear life as your climax approached.

"Is now a- oh, fuck, princess- a bad time to make a milk and cookies joke?" The words came out as grunts as you bounced up and down on him, pre-cum surely coating your walls.

Somehow, you giggled through your own string of expletives as you sought out your high, his balls slapping you with every movement. He twitched inside you, and the movement had you on the brink of cumming. "Steve, I'm gonna- oh."

The digit between your legs teased and rubbed your clit at the perfect speed, and it was just enough to send you over the edge. His name was falling from your tongue like a prayer, reminding him of just who made you feel that good.

A few more pumps of his hips and his seed was spilling inside you, both of you desperate and whiny as you rode out your highs. His fingers held tight to your waist as he helped you slow your erratic rhythm, purple spots surely forming under his fingertips.

Hot breaths fanned across his chest as you fell limp on top of him, deep breaths filling your ears as he came down from his wave of euphoria. A soft kiss met your sweat-sticky hair, his previous grip on you being replaced by the gentle touch of his fingertips grazing nonsensical shapes down your spine.

You were the first to break the silence, the words coming out puffy. "Well, Stevie, you have made me a very happy camper."

He chuckled, slapping your ass with what little strength he had left. "Well, in case I haven't made it clear, you aren't wearing this to the party."

Your mouth flew open in fake surprise. "No! Everyone deserves to see us in these outfits."

"The only tent I want you pitching is mine," he all but demanded, pulling you up for a long kiss, lips still swollen from your previous activities.

"As long as you promise not to buy any other girl's cookies," you smirked.

He snickered, your heart flipping at the sound. "I think I'll take you up on that offer, princess."

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe @wifeyreid @serenity-lattes-reads

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sailing-through-hawkins · 29 days

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✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧

"What if - ooh, what about Patricia?"

Robin rolls her eyes, picking at the grass by her ankles. She's tempted to throw some at Steve but she doesn't really wanna see the blades phase through him right now, even if he'll play up his outrage to distract her.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Trying to distract her from the fact that he's - that -

"Okay, okay, hear me out - Chrissy Cunningham."

"The cheerleader?" Robin wrinkles her nose. "Steve."

"It could happen!" Steve says defensively, sticking his tongue out when Robin gives him her most 'seriously?' face she can muster. "Don't judge a book by its cover, or whatever."

"You're literally meant to do that, that's what the cover's for!"

"Well then, why do people even say that?!"

"I don't know!"

"Is it always like this with you two?" The grouchiest voice cuts through them and Steve spins around in place, floating up even higher so he can stare down at Eddie.

Robin just snorts. "Pretty much."

"Don't be too jealous, Munson," Steve coos, turning himself upside down with a wide grin. "You'll find your soulmate at some point, probably."

"Oh wow, probably," Eddie grouses, and Robin has to bite back a laugh when Steve, still upside down, floats behind him with a silly face stretching out...the scar on his chin. "I am ever so gracious for your faith, oh Generous King."

"This guy's a riot," Steve laughs, poking a finger through Eddie's shoulder and making him jump in place. "Bobbie, can we keep him?"

She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. "I'll end up being the one taking care of him if we do."

"I'm right fucking here," Eddie glares at the both of them, which is just prime material to get them snickering. "Whatever, did it work or not?"

And with that, the laughs cut off.

Robin remembers.

Steve's dead.

"Hey," The ghost of Steve floats over to her, sitting down beside her on the grass. "It's okay -"

"It didn't -" Robin chokes out, avoiding Eddie's eye, staring down at the dirt that she's plucked bare of green. "It didn't. They couldn't see."

The air is silent.

"Probably for the best," comes a sigh and Robin feels rage boil through her blood.

"What the hell?" She glares up at Eddie, who holds his hand up in surrender.

"Look, I know you're both desperate to get your little 'Party' up to speed but like...I mean, just look at him." Eddie waves to all of Steve's ghost, who looks more and more affronted with every word Eddie says. "Do you really think it's a good idea for actual children who watched him die to see him again in the exact same get-up? With the same wounds?"

Robin pauses but Steve just glares harder. "Oh sorry, I didn't know I was supposed to go shopping at Ghosts-R-Us and pick a whole new outfit! What, you think I want to be stuck in this uniform? In the shorts?"

Eddie's face goes red and Robin distantly thinks 'serves you right' as the echo of "watched him die" cycles through her brain. "Well I - I don't know, you're a fucking ghost, you should have ghostly powers or something!"

"Have you ever met a ghost before?!"

"Have you?"

"Stop," Robin chokes out and she immediately gets the chills as Steve waves a hand through her shoulder. "Just stop."

She can't feel him, because he's gone. He's gone. He's gone -

"I'm right here, Rob," Steve's voice murmurs to her and she sobs. "I'm always with you, promise."

"I'm so sorry," she cries, burying her face in her hands and curling up, grief pulling down at her heart. "I'm so sorry, Steve -"

"Shh, it's okay, birdie," he says and she almost feels the warmth he should have. "It's not your fault, it's okay."

"I thought - I just - if we tell everyone, maybe they'll know what - how to - I'm sorry -"

"Wasn't your fault, Bucks," Eddie says gruffly, sitting down next to her roughly. "Just what happens sometimes. That kinda shit...'s out of our control."

She sniffles, burying her hand deeper into her own skin, hoping it'll suffocate the tears out of her, or maybe make her pass out so she doesn't have to think about all of it for a bit, or scratch away the endless void of pain inside her chest -

"Birdie, hey, look at me."

She doesn't.

"Robin."

She can't.

"Please?"

With another choked out sob, she looks up to see Steve Harrington, smiling at her like he never left. Like she didn't leave him.

"No matter what happened, or what happens," he says softly, nearly see-through fingers trying to brush her hair out of her face. Maybe she should get bangs. "I'm always with you, Robs. Not even until death do us part. Platonic soulmates for the rest of time."

She wails and shoves her face into his shoulder, not even caring if she passes through him. A hand pats her back, probably Eddie's, and she sobs louder because why did he get to see Steve? Why did she force him to know? Why couldn't they just be happy?

"Woah, how the hell -"

Robin blinks.

She's sobbing into Steve's shoulder. He's patting her back.

She quickly moves back and stares, Steve's own surprised face staring back, no bruises or scars or Scoops uniform in sight.

"What -"

And in a snap, his face turns back to battered and the warm red sweater he was wearing just a second ago turns back into the bright blue sailor shirt. His hair loses its fluff and goes back to that sad, wiry, bloodied mop.

He changed.

"So you do have ghost powers!" Eddie says triumphantly, as Steve sputters.

"I guess?!" He looks down at his hands, reaching out to touch Robin's fingers, but all she feels is the cold. "How did - why did it stop?"

With one last sniffle, she cups the air around his fingers and looks up at the both of them, her Steve and their spontaneously adopted Eddie (in retrospect, maybe they are weirdo magnets? Better think about that later). She says, with as much determination as she can muster, "This isn't over. We're getting you back."

#didn't actually anticipate writing more for this but people were so nice about the one shot i posted!#so here's another as a treat!#i do plan on writing another part eventually though it's not a priority atm #and i can't guarantee it'll all be resolved by the end #stobin #steddie #writing #ficlet #au content: ghosts #sailor✧writes #the dinguses (affectionate)

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luveline · 10 months

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Hi jade I’m the anon that asked about the non zombie au Steve blurbs! I just thought of a story idea: Steve with a gf that’s recovering from ED?

hi babe!! hope this is ok<3 fem!reader

cw implied eating disorder recovery

"Ready?" Steve asks.

You lean back in his bed and cross your arms over your tummy. "No… are you sure we have to go? I'd way rather stay and watch a movie here. Please?"

"Please," he says back. "I really wanna see this one, he's, like, a tomb raider."

"You realise there were two movies before this one, right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know you knew that. I think you'll like it too, babe. You think that Ford guy is handsome."

"I think you're handsome, and I can see you right here."

Steve takes his jacket off. As soon as he does you feel awful, throwing your legs over the side of the bed to stop him undressing further. "I'm kidding. I'll go. Come on, you're right, Harrison Ford is really handsome."

"Are you sure?" he asks, jacket held in his hands loosely. "I know you haven't been feeling the best, so if you don't wanna go, it's fine. We can go later in the week."

"I– I don't wanna–" You hate stammering around him, but admitting how you feel about this carries an awkward weight. A fettering kind of shame. "We'll have, like, nachos and popcorn and stuff, and movie food is really–"

"I get it," he says, nodding.

Steve puts the jacket down on his dresser and grabs your hand, pulling you back enough to sit with him again on the bed. Sheets crumple under your hands. You're in for a Harrington pep talk, you can tell. You need it so much you don't try to fight it.

"Stuff like that sets me off," you mumble, though he already knows, "and I've had a really good week this week, I don't wanna ruin it."

"The week isn't ruined if you have a slip up, you know that," Steve says gently.

It's just hard. Even though he loves you. Even though he understands. It's raw to be seen at what you feel is your worst, while you trust Steve to be kind about it, because something tells you that your worst is the worst. You know you aren't lesser for having this problem, but knowing and feeling don't align when it comes to this.

"I don't want to go somewhere that's going to make you feel shitty, though, seriously," he says, his arm slipping behind your back. He kisses your cheek, and speaks warmly in your ear, "if you don't feel like you can do it tonight, then you don't have to."

"This is silly. I can't keep interrupting our lives because I'm worried about how eating butter is going to make me feel."

Steve rubs your back. "Don't do that, honey. You don't have to make it smaller than it feels."

"Steve," you say quietly.

"I know this isn't small for you. I promise it's not small for me, either, and it isn't disrupting my life. You getting better is a thousand times more important to me than seeing a movie, so if you feel like you can't be there, we won't go."

"Are you sure?" you ask.

Steve hugs you. "Yeah. Yeah, of course I am. I'm proud of you. Not everyone understands it, I know, 'n' I know that makes it harder, but I'm on your side." He pulls away to make sure he's said the right thing.

You smile at him fondly, reaching up to brush rogue strands of hair off of his forehead.

"Let's stay here and have the dinner we planned," he says, nodding hopefully.

You nod back. "Okay… Thanks, Stevie. I promise we'll see the movie soon."

"That's alright. I don't like that you knew that guy's first name anyway. Can't have a movie star stealing my girl, I can't compete with that."

You snort and flick his arm. He flicks you back.

"You sweep him completely," you tell him.

The total and inarguable truth. You don't need a movie star when you have him. Steve hugs you again, this time pushing you down into bed to rub his face against yours. "That's what I like hearing."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #tw disordered eating #cw disordered eating

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imagine-you · 9 months

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I'll Be the Vision of Your Happiness (Dallas Winston/Reader)

Summary: "And then there was Dallas Winston. He was a troublemaker through and through and while he spent too much time behind bars for your liking, he also crashed on the couch in your living room often enough that you couldn't help but consider him a part of the fucked up little family you had. He was a rebel and a notorious flirt and had an obvious thing for you. You couldn't take him or his advances seriously, though. Not when he was always looking for his next fight or lay." Word Count: 5.7k Author's Note: Just a silly, self-indulgent little thing I've had on my mind for years. I finally decided to write because damn it, I had to. Reader is Darry's, Soda's, and Ponyboy's sister. Just a year younger than Darry. Title comes from the song Earth Angel, because that was the title of this fic up until a few moments ago. Huge canon divergence in this fic...because I had to.

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Everyone on your side of town had a rough life, but growing up, you never would have guessed. Your parents had done their best to shield you from the worst of it and it wasn't until they were gone that you realized just how much they did for you and your brothers.

Even though you were only a year younger than him, Darry tried to take full responsibility for you and your younger brothers. He quit school and got himself a job and then another one when he realized that wasn't going to cut it. When you tried to follow in his footsteps, he chewed you out for trying to ruin your life.

"You even think of dropping out and so help me--"

"So you get to bear the weight of all of our worlds on your shoulders, but I can't help? What the fuck, Dar? That's not fair," you argued, knowing that getting Darryl to budge would be near impossible, but you had to try.

"Watch your language," Darry scolded, shooting you a disapproving glare.

"You're not dad, Dar," you reminded him. "And just because you're the oldest--"

"All of you are my responsibility. Who else is going to keep a roof over our heads? Mom and dad are gone and I'm the only one who can take care of the rest of you."

"That's bullshit and you know it. Listen, I don't have to go to school--"

"Stop," Darry snapped, his tone final, warning you not to argue. "You're going to school and you're gonna make something of yourself. Got it?"

You knew it was no use trying to get through Darry's stubbornness, so you continued taking classes, but you would be damned if you didn't contribute. So, you got a job as a waitress on the other side of the train tracks, catering to socs and taking their money to benefit a bunch of greasers.

Because while you had your brothers, you also couldn't deny that the rest of the gang was your family as well.

Your not-so-secret favorite of the bunch was Two-Bit, because even though he was constantly mouthing off, he was also someone you knew would always have your back. He used his shoplifting habit to pick up things he thought you would like and while you didn't want to encourage him, you couldn't help but think he was incredibly sweet for someone who was always cracking jokes about everything and everyone.

Johnny Cade was an absolute sweetheart and even though Ponyboy was the baby of the group, Johnny gave off a youthful innocence that had you wondering half the time how he ended up with a bunch of guys who would rather let their fists win their fights than words. You hated Johnny's parents for not protecting him from the world like they were meant to, so you took it upon yourself to watch out for him when you could and brought him food from the restaurant you worked at, since you knew his parents barely took the time to make sure he was eating enough.

Steve Randall was Soda's best friend and while you hated the way he was so dismissive of Pony, you tolerated him for Sodapop's sake. It wasn't a secret he wasn't your favorite of the bunch and you had a feeling that the sentiment was mutual.

And then there was Dallas Winston. He was a troublemaker through and through and while he spent too much time behind bars for your liking, he also crashed on the couch in your living room often enough that you couldn't help but consider him a part of the fucked up little family you had. He was a rebel and a notorious flirt and had an obvious thing for you. You couldn't take him or his advances seriously, though. Not when he was always looking for his next fight or lay.

It didn't make sense and it was dysfunctional as all get out, but they were your family, and you'd do anything for them.

The day your life got flipped around for what felt like the thousandth time, you were sitting on the porch steps, reading a book for class. You were drawn from the story of fake identities and counts seeking revenge by your brother's distressed voice.

"Pony!" You heard Soda yell before he took off. Two-Bit, Johnny, and Steve were right behind him, barely taking a second to hesitate before following your brother into what sounded like a fight.

You stood, carelessly throwing your book down on the steps, before you rushed toward the sounds of yelling and cursing and punches being thrown. All you managed to catch was the end of the scuffle, surprised to see Dally there, since the last thing you knew he was locked up again. He threw a rock at the socs' car, nearly hitting the back window, sending it skittering across the road as the socs fled.

It was then you saw Ponyboy, blood welling from a cut on his neck.

"What the fuck did they do to you?" You hissed, dropping to your knees at your brother's side.

"They ran him down," Soda answered, tipping Pony's head back to get a better look at the cut. "Shit, Pony," he sighed, wincing at the sight of the blood staining his neck.

"What the hell were you thinking anyway?" Darry asked, surprising you. You hadn't even seen your older brother approach, but you shouldn't have been surprised that if there was trouble, he wouldn't let it go ignored. "You shouldn't be walking around by yourself."

"I wanted to see a movie," Pony offered, letting Two-Bit help him to his feet.

"Movies and books," Darry scoffed, reaching out to tap a finger against Pony's forehead. "You're going to be so caught up in that head of yours one day that you're not gonna see the hit coming."

"Aw, lay off him," Soda told Darry, starting to lead Pony back to the house. "Those things make him happy."

"Next time you want to go to the movies, I'll give you a ride," you offered, not liking the idea of your baby brother walking all over town by himself. It wasn't just the socs you had to worry about. There were rowdy greasers and people who wouldn't take too kindly to a greaser walking on their side of town. You didn't want him getting jumped again, so you would do just about anything to prevent it.

"And next time you need a ride," Dallas started, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "you know where to find me."

"Dallas," you groaned, pushing him away. "What about Sylvia, huh?"

Dallas' face scrunched up in annoyance before he shrugged his shoulders. "Cheated on me while I was locked up," he answered before reaching out to ruffle Johnny's hair. "That chick couldn't even wait a few months for me."

"Shocker," you drawled, ignoring Dallas' noise of protest, before you sat back down on the porch steps and picked up your book.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dally asked, indignation in his tone.

"Nothing. Just...," you trailed off, glancing up at Dallas. "Are you noticing a pattern with the kind of girls you go with?"

"Well, it's not like you're giving me the time of day. Just say the word, babe," he added with a confident smirk.

"Alright, can you two stop flirting and just get married already or something already?" Two-Bit joked, bumping into Dallas' side. "I'm sure Pony here would make a great flower girl, though. Leaving a trail of grease down the aisle and everything."

"Knock it off, Keith," you scolded Two-Bit, grinning when his cheeks flushed red. You were the only one who got away with calling him by his actual name and you only ever used it when you needed him to back off.

"Yeah, yeah," Two-Bit sighed, turning to look at the rest of the gang. "So, anyone want to do anything fun?"

"There's a double feature tomorrow night at the drive-in," Pony piped up, ignoring Darry's pointed sigh, before he considered the rest of the gang.

"I'll go," Johnny volunteered before he looked to Dallas. "What about it, Dally? You in?"

"Sure," Dallas mused, dropping down onto the porch next to you. "Y/N can drive us."

You snorted, elbowing Dallas in the side. "That offer stands for my brother and Johnny. You can walk, though," you told him, smirking at him.

"Ouch," Dallas feigned hurt before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. "C'mon, doll, you really trust me out on these streets? I could get jumped. I could get arrested. I could get killed. Heck, I might just get all three in one night."

"I know what you're capable of," you told him, not bothering to shake off his arm again, instead going back to your book. "Just this once," you allowed, since you weren't too keen on the idea of Dallas leading your brother all over town, starting trouble and dragging Pony and Johnny right into it.

"Great," Dallas drawled, squeezing you close to him for a second before letting you go.

Even though you hated yourself just a little bit for it, you couldn't help but think you liked being tucked against Dallas' side.

You were able to drop the trio off at the drive-in the next night, but you had to take a reluctant shift at the restaurant, since one of your co-workers had fallen ill. Your boss offered you a little extra cash as an incentive and since Pony was going to need new running shoes for track, you couldn't exactly turn the offer down.

If you had known what you would come home to, however, you would have told your boss there was no way in hell you were coming in on your day off.

By the time you got back to the house, you were exhausted and tired and cold. Your feet were killing you and all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget that the world existed for the rest of the night.

Instead, you came home to Darry sitting silent and still in the armchair by the phone and Soda nervously pacing the floor.

"What happened?" You asked, stepping cautiously through the front door. "Is someone hurt? In jail? What's going on?"

"Pony ran off," Soda answered, glancing at Darry, unsure. "He, uh, he got upset."

"Have you looked for him? He runs fast, but he wouldn't go far. He probably just needs a minute." You weren't sure if you were trying to reassure your brothers or yourself.

Darry shook his head and you couldn't tell if the expression on his face was one of guilt or anger. Knowing Darry, it was probably both.

"Look, you two stay here," you told your brothers. "And I'll go look for Pony."

"I don't like you out there at this time of night by yourself," Darry said, finally breaking his silence.

"I'll be okay," you assured Darry, thinking of what you had stashed away in the glovebox of your car. The gun was the only reason Darry was okay with you having a job so far from home. It had belonged to your father and after he passed, Darry dug it out from beneath your parent's bed and presented it to you. 'Just in case,' he told you and you knew it was his way of trying to ensure he didn't lose any more family.

Dallas had been the one to teach you how to use it. He was oddly pissed when he found out Darryl had handed you a gun with no pointers on how to use it. You chalked it up to grief on Darry's part, but Dallas wasn't willing to let it slide. He took it upon himself to make sure you knew how to use and aim it.

He set up makeshift targets made out of tin cans in an empty field and didn't let you leave until he was positive you wouldn't hurt yourself if you ever had to use the weapon to defend yourself.

You remembered the way his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping your back pressed firmly to his chest as he whispered in your ear how to gently squeeze the trigger. It shouldn't have made you so hot, but after years of ignoring Dally's advances, you couldn't stop yourself from turning in his embrace and pressing your lips to his. The kiss has been slow and languid, searching and questioning. You didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but in that moment, it certainly felt like it.

Of course, your hopes for any future you might have with Dallas Winston were dashed the next day when you saw him flirting with the girl who worked as a cashier at the grocery store halfway across town. You had only been there to pick up some peanut butter and bread after your shift and at first you couldn't quite believe your eyes.

It was then you realized Dallas was never really going to change and you shouldn't hold out hope that he ever would. You wanted two different things and you told yourself you were okay with that, even though you really weren't.

"I'll be okay," you repeated, meeting Darry's eyes. "I'll bring him home. Trust me."

Darry dipped his head in a nod, silently giving you permission to go. You ignored Soda's worried expression as he watched you leave the house, all your thoughts focused on finding your youngest brother and bringing him home.

You had a hard time focusing on the road before you as you drove down the darkened streets of your neighborhood, searching fervently for Ponyboy. Every minute that passed had you clenching the steering wheel tighter in your hands. Anything could happen to Ponyboy if he was out alone at night and you didn't even want to consider the state you might find him in once you finally laid eyes on him.

You wanted to find Pony so badly that you weren't sure if the commotion going on at the playground was real or all in your head. But there Pony was with Johnny, going up against four socs. You slammed your foot down on the brake, barely remembering to put the car in park, before you were hastily reaching into the glove box. Your fingers were just wrapping around the handle of the pistol when you saw a soc shove Johnny to the ground before they crowded around Pony, herding him towards the fountain.

You were out of the car and rushing towards the group by the time they were dunking your little brother's head beneath the water. You could hear the socs laughing and you felt rage pour through your body, sweeping you up along with it. They were trying to kill your brother and they were laughing about it. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. Indignation and panic were rising quickly up your throat and you weren't sure if you were about to start yelling or if you were going to throw up from the stress.

You could see Johnny picking himself up from the ground, the glint of the knife in his hand catching your attention, and abruptly you knew how this would play out. Johnny would save your brother however he could, but he'd take the fall. Sweet, sensitive Johnny being locked up or worse wasn't something you were about to let happen.

You raised the gun in the air and fired off a shot without a second thought about any consequences. The socs jumped and the one holding Pony let him go, startling so hard that he bumped into the lip of the fountain and fell to the ground. You saw the other socs stumble and scramble to turn towards you.

While you had their attention, Johnny darted forward and grabbed Pony by the shoulders, hauling him up out of the fountain. Your brother spluttered, coughing up water and spitting it out onto the ground.

"Hey," the blonde one slurred, clumsily getting to his feet before making a move towards Johnny.

"Leave him alone," you shouted, keeping the socs' attention on you. Johnny was busy helping Ponyboy stay upright, patting his back when you brother started coughing up more water, but he kept a fearful, distrustful eye on the socs. "Or the next time I pull the trigger, I'll be aiming at you."

"C'mon, Bob," one of the socs said. "Let's get out of here," he pleaded with his friend, reaching out to tug on his arm. "She's crazy and she's got a gun."

"Not until they learn their lesson," Bob snarled, swaying towards your brother and Johnny. "They can't just talk to our girls and think they can get away with it. Not trash like them," he spat, bringing his fist back, as if he was going to aim a punch at Johnny. You saw the flash of rings caught in the streetlights and the absolute fear on Johnny's face and you knew without a doubt this was the soc that had jumped him not long ago.

You pointed your weapon at Bob, not wanting him to have any doubt that he would be your target should you have to fire again. "Leave," you told him, trying to ignore the fact that your hands were shaking. Your confidence was waning with every second and you didn't want to lose it before the socs were gone. One slip and it was all over.

"Let's go, man, she's off her rocker," you heard one of the socs mutter before they were all trailing back to their car. Bob looked like he still had half a mind to charge at your brother, even with the weapon pointed at him, but his friend with the curly brown hair kept a tight grip on his arm, towing him away.

"We can go," you told the boys once you were sure the socs were gone and weren't going to circle back.

"Y/N--," Johnny started.

"Not now," you said, shaking your head, still on high alert waiting for headlights and cruel laughter to make a reappearance.

The car was deathly silent as you drove home, keeping an eye on your rearview motor, while Johnny and Pony sat huddled together in the backseat. You could hear one or both of them shivering, so you drove a little faster, eager to get them back to the warmth and safety of your home.

When you got back to the house, Soda was sitting on the front steps. He immediately stood up when he noticed your car and took off down the stairs and across the lawn when he noticed Johnny helping Pony out of the backseat. Your hands were trembling and you felt so restless that you knew going into the house would be a mistake. Darry would have questions and he would be gruff and stern and overprotective. Soda would be worried and nervous and you knew Pony and Johnny would be traumatized. You didn't have the energy to deal with all of that, so all you could think about was fleeing to a place where you felt safe.

To your surprise, only one place came to mind.

"I'll, uh, I've got something I've gotta do," you told Pony when he shot you a questioning glance. You knew he was wondering why you weren't shutting the car off or getting out. "I'll be home soon."

"Y/N--," Soda tried to stop you, his brow furrowed with worry as he helped Johnny support Ponyboy.

You shook your head, cutting him off. He frowned at you before reluctantly shutting the car door, allowing you to drive off.

Your mind was spinning and you barely had the presence of mind to stuff the gun back into the glovebox. You didn't want Darry giving you the third degree and you didn't want Soda to pace nervously while he shot you what he thought were discreet, worried glances. Johnny and Pony could tell them what happened and Darry and Soda would watch out for them. They didn't need you, you told yourself over and over again. You didn't have to feel guilty for escaping when you needed to. For seeking out the one person who could help you process the events of the night.

Two-Bit would just fuss over you and you sure as hell weren't going to go to Steve at a moment like this. You didn't realize your mind was fully made up until you found yourself pulling up to Buck Merrill's place.

"Shit," you groaned, resting your forehead on the steering wheel. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, knowing that this was probably a mistake, before you forced yourself to get out of the car. You let your feet carry you to the front door while your mind spiraled through all the ways this could go wrong.

"Yeah?" You heard someone ask, breaking you out of your trance.

"Uh, hey," you managed to get out, recognizing Buck. "Is Dallas here?"

Buck looked you up and down, leaning against the doorframe, as if keeping you from getting a good look at his place or who might be inside. "Who's asking?"

"Just tell him it's Y/N, alright? He'll want to see me." It was a bluff and you suddenly had the striking fear that Dallas wasn't spending the night alone. What if he had a date? What if you were interrupting something?

"Stay here," Buck's gruff voice pulled you out of your panic.

You nodded your head, nervously tapping your fingers against your thigh as Buck shut the door on you.

It wasn't long before you could see Dallas approach the door through the front window. He looked confused as he yelled something at Buck over his shoulder before he opened the door. His hair was sleep rumpled and there was a bruise blooming on his jaw, making you wonder if it was from a fist or a pair of lips.

"Y/N? Do you know what time it is? What the hell is going on?" Dallas took a closer look at you before he seemed to notice the state you were in. You could feel yourself beginning to shake and you weren't sure if it was from the chill in the air or from shock. "Jesus, come on, get inside," he ordered, stepping aside to give you room to get past him.

Dallas ushered you inside before leading you up the stairs and into a bedroom. The covers were rumpled and the pillow was halfway off the bed, as if Dallas had messed it up trying to get out of bed, but there was no sign that another person had been with him. You felt relieved for a brief, confusing moment, before the shock you had been fighting off hit you.

"What's going on? You look spooked," Dallas observed, his brows furrowing in concern.

You took a deep breath before you stumbled towards the bed. You dropped down onto the edge of it, fighting the urge to hide your face from Dallas so he wouldn't see you cry.

"Johnny and Pony got into some trouble tonight."

You knew Dally had a soft spot for Johnny and once he heard his name, his face drew tight in anger. You knew he was fearing the worst and while you had definitely avoided the worst-case scenario that night, you were having trouble trying to explain that at the moment.

"Was it the socs again? They didn't get him, did they? Fuck, they're so dead this time."

"Not really," you explained. "But they almost killed Pony. He could've died tonight, Dal." You could feel a sob working its way up your throat and you weren't sure if you would be able to stop it. You weren't all that surprised when you started rambling, instead. "They were trying to drown Pony and Johnny had a knife and I didn't know what to do, so I took the gun--"

"Did you shoot one of 'em?" Dallas asked and from the calculating look on his face, you were sure he was already thinking of a dozen different escape plans that would have you running from the law and trying to evade a murder charge.

"No, but I almost had to. They wouldn't back off and he was going to die, Dal. I could've lost my brother tonight. If I hadn't been there in time who knows what could have happened." You thought of Johnny and his knife and the determined glint in his eyes. "It could've been so much worse."

"It's alright," Dallas soothed, dropping down to sit at your side. "You got there and you stopped them. That's what matters, right? And we'll make them pay for what they did. They can't just get away with it. They always get away with it and then we're the ones getting locked up because we don't have their connections."

"I don't want you getting into any trouble. Not again," you told him, hating the thought of Dallas going away yet again.

"I won't, doll," he said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. You shivered and pressed closer against him, noticing the way his breath hitched.

You turned your head to look at him, noticing the way his eyes dipped to consider your lips before meeting your eyes. All you could think about was that of all the places you could've run to, you went right to Dallas. It only felt right and after all this time of running away from him, when you couldn't deny how you felt any longer, you ended up right in his arms. Maybe it was where you should have been all along.

"I don't want to get myself into any trouble either," you found yourself saying, focusing on Dallas' eyes and how he was zeroed in on you.

"So, I'm trouble?" His lips quirked up in a smirk and you couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped you.

"You always have been. But maybe...," you trailed off, considering him. "But maybe I just don't care anymore," you said before you leaned forward and let your lips brush against his. Your hands were still shaking and you couldn't wrap your head around what almost happened to your brother, but you knew one thing. Dallas was where you turned when you felt unsafe and all you wanted at that moment was to be with him. You felt like nothing could go wrong as long as he was with you, holding you, pressed against you. So, you leaned into him, pouring every insecurity and fear into the kiss and letting him take them from you.

You were tempted to spend the night with Dallas, but you only stayed for another few minutes. At some point during the kiss, Dallas had drawn away and simply pulled you close, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He kept his arm tucked tight around your waist, a silent assurance that he had you.

"I should go," you sighed, closing your eyes against the urge to look up at Dallas. You knew it would be hard to leave him, but it was something you had to do. Your brothers were probably worried sick about you and you didn't want to make them worry any longer.

"You could stay," he offered. "Bed's big enough for two."

"Darry would kill me," you told him. "Especially since i just drove off without a word once I dropped off Pony and Johnny."

"Your big brother worries too much," Dallas complained before he reluctantly let you go.

"He does," you agreed before taking a moment to kiss Dallas again. This one was quick and brief, a thanks for giving you refuge to sort yourself out, before you stood up. "I'll see you later," you promised.

"Later," Dallas agreed, not bothering to get off the bed as you walked out.

You figured it was better that way. If Dallas followed you, you'd have a hell of a lot harder time leaving him.

Johnny was fast asleep on the couch when you wandered back into the house and Pony and Soda were both in bed, but you weren't surprised that Darry was waiting for you.

"Where the hell did you go," he said, not bothering to phrase it as a question, but more of a demand for an answer.

"I went to a friend's," you told him, completely aware of how much more he would worry if he found out you were with Dallas instead of staying home. "How are they?" You asked, gesturing towards where Johnny was still fast asleep on the couch.

"Scared. Shaken up. They told us what happened." Darryl sighed, his shoulders releasing some of their tension. "It could have been a lot worse. I'm glad you got to them in time."

"Yeah," you agreed, releasing a long breath. Your mind was finally starting to catch up to the fact that you were completely safe now. The adrenaline from the night was wearing and exhaustion was fast approaching to take its place. "I'm tired," you couldn't help but say, not even sure if you had the energy to drag yourself to bed. You thought for a fleeting moment of Dallas and his bed and the fact that you could have been sharing it with him right about now. But you knew it had been the right decision to go home, even if it wasn't completely what you had wanted.

"Go to bed. We'll talk more tomorrow." Darry walked towards you, leaving his arms open for you to slip into his embrace. "Don't scare me like that again, alright?" He asked before he let you go. "I understand, but after everything we've been through...," he let the end of his sentence go unsaid, letting you mentally finish it yourself. "Love you, kid."

"I'm only a year younger," you reminded him, fighting off the urge to roll your eyes.

"Sure," he agreed with a grin. "Now, go on. Get some rest."

"Thanks, Darry," you managed to say around a yawn before you went off to bed.

You went to bed that night thinking about Dally and woke that morning worried about Dally. Tensions between the socs and greasers around town were swiftly rising and you knew that it would come to some kind of fight. It always came to a fight when class differences were involved and you hated that the people you loved most were being painted as the enemies.

You knew it would come to a head sooner or later, but you didn't entirely expect for it to happen so soon.

Within a week, everyone was on edge. Two-bit got followed walking to get some ice cream and Dally got jumped by three socs just outside a gas station. Thankfully it was the one Soda and Steve worked at, and while they almost got fired for the fight, all three of them managed to make it out nearly completely unscathed.

You knew it would only get worse, so you weren't surprised when word of a rumble between the two groups started floating around.

"No. Absolutely not," you argued once Dally told you he was set on fighting in the rumble "It's bad enough my brothers want to, but come on, Dallas. You never know when to stop and you're gonna end up in jail. Again," you added after a moment of thought. "It's all I can not to get Ponyboy mixed up in all of this, but now I've got to worry about you too? What're we going to do if you get locked up?"

The thing between you was still fragile and new. You kept waiting for him to flirt around and he seemed to think you were going to change your mind. Despite that, it still felt incredibly exhilarating every time you were wrapped up in his arms and while you hadn't told anyone else that the two of you were an item, you knew it would happen once the both of you felt more settled in your relationship.

"Well," he mused as he moved towards you, "guess you better wait for me." He reached up and behind his neck, unlatching his Saint Chrisopher necklace. "You'll keep this safe for me, then, won't you?"

You knew what the necklace meant to Dally and you knew what it meant that he was giving it to you. He carried it with him for the protection and safekeeping he thought it gave him and if he was giving it to you, then he must have trusted you a hell of a lot more than you realized.

"The last girl I was with, I gave her my ring, but I shouldn't have trusted her. I knew I should've waited for the right one." He let his lips twist up into a smile as you turned, letting your back face him. "And I've been waiting a long time for you, doll," Dallas said, his voice going lower, as if he was worried anyone but you would hear the words. He reverently brought the necklace up over your head and let it rest around your neck, taking care to make sure your hair didn't get caught up in the clasp as he closed it.

"I'll take good care of it," you promised. "But you better not end up in jail. I've got plans for us, Dallas Winston," you told him as you turned to face him yet again. You could feel the medallion against your skin and you knew it was a promise and a declaration all in one.

Dallas wanted to be with you and he wasn't about to go seeking out anyone else to fill his time or his bed. And once the guys realized you of all people were wearing Dallas' necklace, then they were soon to put the pieces together.

"Oh yeah? Well, guess I better make sure I'm around for them," Dallas said, a smile still on his face as he considered you. You didn't remember the last time you had seen him so pleased and the fact that you were the reason for his happiness was downright intoxicating.

You couldn't help but laugh, delighted and enthralled with Dallas as you pulled him into a kiss.

Maybe your side of town would always be a little bit rough and maybe there was always a fight brewing, but you figured maybe it wasn't so bad as long as you had your family of greasers and Dallas Winston's arms around you. Maybe you didn't need money or connections or a fancy school to be happy.

You already had all you needed and you would be damned if you were ever going to let it go.

#the outsiders #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders imagine #dallas winston imagine #reader insert #my fic

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sidekick-hero · 4 months

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When I open my eyes to the future I can hear you say my name

Summary: "Beautiful," he whispers again, and Eddie grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing every fingertip before taking two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking them gently while holding Steve's gaze.

The light of the setting sun has almost disappeared, leaving a dim twilight that barely illuminates their bodies. Steve doesn't think he needs any light for this, he knows Eddie's body by heart, all his senses so attuned to him that the absence of one of them wouldn't make much of a difference. But then he happens to look past Eddie to the ceiling, and what he finds there makes his heart stutter in his chest.

A full-length mirror adorns their ceiling, reflecting their image perfectly.

He can't believe he hadn't seen it before, too caught up in his husband it seems. But now that he's seen it, he can't look away, can't stop drinking in the way they look in the faint light that still filters in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Getting away for a weekend of wellness at a spa has been the only thing that has kept Steve going for the past couple of weeks. He loves his job, he really does. But teaching a bunch of middle schoolers only to come home to his own little tornado of a four-year-old has taken its toll. Eddie isn't much better off, as he's been working extra shifts at his uncle's garage on the weekends since Wayne sprained his hand, and that, on top of his tattooing job, has left his husband exhausted as well.

The spa had been Robin and Chrissy's wedding anniversary gift, and Wayne's gift had been to take care of April while they were gone. Everyone thought it would be Steve who would have separation anxiety, that he’d be the one unable to relax knowing he was away from his daughter for three whole days.

But it's Eddie who is on the phone with Wayne once again, asking how their little love bug is doing. It's the third call since they got here two hours ago and Steve would be annoyed that his husband spends all his time on the phone instead of on him, but it's incredibly cute to see this overprotective side of Eddie. As Steve mellowed over the years, Eddie became more anxious at times. Steve had once asked him where the devil-may-care guy had gone, and Eddie had looked at the sleeping bundle in his arms and then at Steve with so much naked love that Steve had felt tears well up in his eyes. Eddie had told him: "This guy has something to lose now, and that scares the hell out of him."

"I trust you, Uncle Wayne. It's just..." He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "I'm being silly, aren't I?" Eddie laughs at himself, obviously embarrassed. "Yeah, you're right, I should. Give April a kiss for us. Hear you tomorrow, okay? And call us if - fine, jeez, okay, I'll -" Eddie stops, pulls the phone from his ear and stares at it in disbelief before looking at Steve with the most offended expression on his face. "He just hung up on me! Can you believe that?"

Steve chuckles before clicking his tongue in mock offense. "He did now? Wow, so rude."

"Somehow I get the feeling you don't take me seriously, oh love of my life."

"What gives you that impression, oh light of my days and nights?"

They smile at each other, their faces glowing, and Steve wonders if you could die of happiness. Then Eddie grins, mischief in his eyes, and before Steve knows what's happening, he's running to the bed where Steve is lying and pouncing on him. The impact pushes the air out of him in a loud huff.

"Get off me, you barbarian."

Eddie cackles maniacally on top of him. "Barbarian, really? Is this some secret fantasy of yours, Stevie? Me ravaging you like a barbarian?"

Shaking with laughter beneath him, Steve shakes his head. "Not really. I saw you cry when you watched Babe with our daughter, who, I might mention, didn't shed a single tear. I don't think I'm buying the barbarian."

Eddie's hips settle between Steve's legs and he leans on his elbows next to Steve's head. He looks down at him and gives him a gentle kiss on the nose before snarking back at him. "Oh, excuse me for teaching our daughter that it's okay to have feelings and show them freely, Mr. Macho Man."

Instead of answering with words, Steve shows Eddie freely how much he feels by capturing his lips in a soft kiss. He takes his time, just pressing their mouths together in a silent sign of affection.

It's been a while since they've had time to indulge each other since they adopted April two years ago. Steve wouldn't trade their little girl for anything, but sometimes he misses the days when he and Eddie would spend all day in bed, fucking for hours and then falling asleep on top of each other, sticky and gross, only to wake up and do it all over again. Nowadays it's mostly quick fumblings in the dark, like teenagers still living under their parents' roof.

As usual, Eddie is on the same page as he is, his hands cupping Steve's face as he begins to move his lips languidly over Steve's, adding just a hint of tongue to ease the glide of their mouths against each other. It's Steve whose patience finally runs out, too eager and hungry to taste the man he's been with for almost a decade.

They kiss like this for what feels like hours, licking into each other's mouths, spit-slick lips coming together again and again, only parting for much needed air before finding each other again like magnets. At some point Steve's hands find their way under Eddie's shirt, gently tracing the muscles of his back, enjoying the feel of his soft skin under his fingertips. It makes Eddie sigh contentedly into his mouth and relax further into Steve's body. Everything around them has become soft and hazy, the sun just setting outside, bathing the hotel room in a warm orange glow.

Steve's eyes have been closed until now, just surrendering to Eddie and their kiss, but the changing light makes him open them. The sight that greets him takes his breath away.

"You're so beautiful," he tells Eddie, their lips just inches apart as he gets lost in the warm amber of his husband's eyes in the low light of the dying day. The smile he receives in return wrinkles the skin around those beloved eyes, and he drowns in the love he finds in them.

Holding Steve's face gently in the palm of his hand, Eddie traces the arc of his cheekbone with his thumb and brushes his nose against the other before capturing Steve's lips in another kiss.

"I love you, Steve Harrington-Munson."

"I love you more."

"I had to fall for a competitive ex-jock who always has to have the last word, huh?"

"Sounds like a you problem, dear."

By now they're both smiling so big it hurts, and finally the laughter bubbles up from their chests, mingling between them, filling the room with the sound of their happiness.

As it slowly fades, silence falls around them again as they look into each other's eyes, understanding passing between them without the need for words. The energy shifts from joyful and light to something heavier, thicker, as Eddie sits up and pulls off his shirt, revealing miles of pale skin adorned with tantalizing black ink. Steve reaches up to trace it reverently, as if he hasn't seen it a million times before.

"Beautiful," he whispers again, and Eddie grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing every fingertip before taking two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking them gently while holding Steve's gaze.

A full-length mirror adorns their ceiling, reflecting their image perfectly.

Noticing the shift in Steve's attention, Eddie follows his gaze and turns to see whatever it is that has Steve so enraptured. His gasp is loud in the silent room as their eyes lock in the mirror, both their face taking on similar expressions of wonder and hunger at the picture before them. The picture they make.

"Fuck, Stevie, look at you. All laid out for me," Eddie breathes, his voice full of wonder. He sounds like he's never seen Steve disheveled and wanting before. In fact, he sounds just like the first time they made love so many years ago.

Without tearing his eyes away from where they are locked with Steve's in the mirror, Eddie's hand finds the bulge in his pants and begins to slowly massage it. It draws a needy moan from Steve, his hips bucking against the hand on him, and Eddie moans in sympathy as he feels the hot, hard flesh twitch. "You don't even know what you're doing to me, do you? Fuck, Stevie, baby, I got an idea. Trust me?"

Steve knows the tone, has heard those words more than a few times and it always ended with both of them worn out and deeply satisfied. Leaning up on his elbows, he gently bites Eddie's nipple to show him he's in, and his cock twitches again under Eddie's hand in eager anticipation. "Always. What do you want me to do?"

When Eddie tugs at the hem of his shirt, Steve instinctively lifts his arms, the dance of getting each other naked a familiar one. After quickly turning on the bedside lamp next to them, Eddie's mouth finds his again and this time their kiss tastes of excitement and hunger.

Whatever Eddie is planning, Steve can't wait.

He wants to watch them kiss in the mirror, strangely drawn to the image of them together, but the angle is all wrong and it's not worth breaking their kiss. But when their mouths part and Eddie begins to lick and suck and bite his way down Steve's body, Steve can't help but follow his movements in the mirror above them. It’s strangely mesmerizing to watch bruises bloom on his skin wherever Eddie worships his body with a single-minded determination he usually reserves to playing his sweetheart.

When he reaches the waistband of Steve's jeans, Eddie stops, his chin digging into the soft flesh of his stomach as he follows Steve’s gaze to where they are watching them in the mirror. “You like watching yourself while I get you off, don’t you, sweetheart.” It's not a question.

It's silly, but Steve feels called out by it, like he's been caught doing something naughty. It’s even worse that the feeling makes his cock twitch. It seems that being with Eddie, who's a kinky son of a bitch, has rubbed off on him. In more ways than the literal one.

It sounds defensive when he replies. "Who says I don't like watching you?"

Instead of answering right away, Eddie starts sucking another bruise in the supple flesh above his waistband, and Steve can't take his eyes off his own face in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes dark and shining in the lamplight, his mouth slightly open and panting, his lips swollen and wet from their shared spit. His hips keep shifting under the attention and the heat pooling in his stomach is quickly spreading.

The smug smile on Eddie's face as he catches Steve's eyes in the mirror tells him that Eddie knows exactly how turned on Steve's right now. "You can look at me anytime you want. But the look on your face right now, so needy and wanting. You don't usually get to see that, isn’t that right?” Eddie teases him further by biting his hipbone and another moan falls from Steve's mouth.

The smirk on Eddie’s face looks even better in the mirror. “It's hot, I know it is. That look on your face haunts my dreams since I first saw it, love. I get it.” And then, as he unbuttons Steve's jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper, his voice takes on a deeper tone as he commands, "Keep watching.”

So Steve does. He watches as Eddie pulls down his pants and underwear in one swift motion, watches as his own heavy cock slaps against his stomach, already so hard and leaking even though it has barely been touched. He marvels at the sight of his tanned skin flushed with arousal, the shifting of the muscles beneath, the fine hair dusting his creamy thighs, the thick bush of coarse dark hair around the base of his cock. It's mesmerizing, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his body shifts under Eddie's eager hands and a thick drop of pre-cum forms at the tip of his cock, catching the light before dripping down onto his stomach, adding to the small pool already gathering there.

"Beautiful." Eddie's voice is reverent as he says this and his broad hands slide up Steve's bare thighs to his hipbones, almost worshipful. Then he leans down, nuzzling the hot flesh of Steve's cock and sticking out his tongue to lap up some of the wetness gathered under the head before taking him into his mouth. It draws a moan from Steve, his hips bucking involuntarily at the sensation of wet heat around the sensitive flesh.

Eddie chokes around him, obviously not expecting the way Steve shoves himself down his throat with the motion. But instead of pulling away it only spurs Eddie on and he slides down further, taking Steve deeper and deeper until his nose is buried in the thick patch of dark hair at the base of his cock.

Overwhelmed by the sensation of Eddie's mouth on him, Steve moans brokenly. It's not the first time, hell, it's not even the hundredth, but seeing it in the mirror above and feeling it at the same time has him shaking with need. Eddie swallows around him and Steve feels his throat tighten with the movement, a long fuck followed by Eddie's name the only reaction he allows himself. Part of him wants to move, to slide in and out of Eddie's throat, to fuck his mouth like he would his ass. But a bigger part of him wants to let Eddie take control and just watch, like a voyeur of his own pleasure.

He never thought that watching them fuck in a mirror would be like this. To be honest, he never even contemplated it before, and if he had, he would have thought that he would be into it a normal amount. But normal is the last thing he feels about the whole thing.

Then Eddie finally starts to move, slowly bobbing his head on Steve's length, his tongue sliding up and down the underside of his cock. Eddie is on his stomach between Steve's legs, his hands on Steve's thighs for balance, and Steve marvels at the broad expanse of his back. It's mesmerizing, the way his shoulder blades move as he goes up and down, making the dragon tattooed on them look like it's moving, ready to take flight. Or the way his hips keep shifting, the muscles in his ass clenching subtly as he humps the bed to take some of the pressure off his own cock. It's watching himself that's new and exciting, but he'd be lying if he said that watching Eddie pleasure himself from this angle didn't add fuel to the fire in his veins.

Every time only the head of Steve's cock is in his mouth, Eddie looks up at the mirror and his eyes find Steve's. The dark brown of them is almost completely swallowed by his pupils, like the inky black eyes of a demon, and the lock in them is wicked. He knows exactly what this is doing to Steve, can feel it in the way Steve's cock twitches and his balls are pulled tight against his body, already as close to coming as a virgin getting his first blow job.

And that's when Eddie suddenly pulls away from him.

Steve is not proud of the whimper that falls from his throat, but he was so fucking close, his pleasure about to peak with surprising speed. But now, as the air of the room hits the wet skin of his spit slicked cock, his climax is already out of reach.

With gentle hands rubbing up and down his thighs, Eddie soothes him. "I know, baby, I know. But as much as I love you coming down my throat, I want you to see how beautiful you look when you're coming on my cock."

"Oh God."

"Thought so," Eddie chuckles. "I'll be right back."

True to his word, Eddie only gets up from the bed to shed his remaining clothes, presenting Steve with even more pale, inked skin and the mouthwatering sight of his hard and heavy cock before he walks over to their unpacked bags to rifle through them. As he squats down to do so, Steve gives him a low and teasing whistle and Eddie looks at him over his shoulder with a lascivious wink before turning back to the task at hand. Steve still clocked his goofy grin which matches the one on his own face. He never had a lover he could laugh with as much as with Eddie, no matter how kinky or filthy they fucked.

Seconds later, Eddie finds what he's looking for: a bottle of lube. Before Steve can blink, Eddie is back between his spread legs, but instead of resuming his earlier position, he shuffles forward on his knees and hooks his arms under Steve's thighs to lift them onto his own, Steve's ankles crossed behind his back. The heat in Eddie's eyes as he sees Steve splayed out in front of him sends goosebumps up and down Steve's body.

Even after almost a decade, Eddie has this intense way of looking at him, like he would devour him whole if he could. Like he's never wanted anything more in his life than Steve, and Steve has no idea how to live without that feeling. He hopes he never has to find out, and that even when they're old and having geriatric sex, Eddie will still look at him like that.

Steve is so lost in the look on Eddie's face that he doesn't even notice his husband opening the bottle of lube and coating his fingers with it. It's only the slightly cold sensation of the lube-slicked fingers as they tease his rim that alerts him to the next phase of Eddie's plan.

"As much as I love to have your eyes on me, I need you to look up in the mirror. I want you to see what I see every time I get to have you like this."

As always, Steve can only comply when Eddie's voice gets like this, his voice soft and deep, but also firm. Knowing exactly what they both need. It's not that he's always in charge, quite the opposite. Often it's Steve who takes him apart, who uses his voice as well as his hands on Eddie until he's a needy mess writhing on the sheets. But God, he loves it when Eddie takes over and allows Steve to give up the tight grip on his self-control and just let Eddie take care of him.

In the mirror he sees himself spread out on the sheets, his thighs hugging Eddie's sides and his own hands on either side of his head. His hair is a mess and he sees his face slacken with pleasure as the first two fingers enter him at once. The angle of his hips doesn't allow him to see where Eddie's fingers disappear into him, but he watches in rapture as they slide in and out. It's the same heavy feeling as when he watched Eddie swallow his cock and he felt the wet heat engulf him at the same time.

"I never told you this, but this is my favorite part. Don't get me wrong, I love everything we do, baby, even just kissing you makes me feel so happy and alive every time. But I could play with you like this for hours, making you come on my fingers over and over again and never get tired of it."

Eddie does that sometimes, just lets his mouth run wild, saying the dirtiest and sweetest things, often in the same breath. Steve lives for these moments, feels himself clench around the fingers inside him in a mindless search for more sensation, more pleasure. He knew it when they went on their first date, and he never changed his mind: Eddie Munson would be the death of him one day.

"Do you know that the first time I fingered you, I realized that I loved you and that I wanted us to be forever? Don't look at me like that, I know it's not the most romantic thing to say, but it's true," Eddie tells him, kissing the inside of his thigh tenderly before pushing another finger inside him. "It was when I felt your pulse beating against my finger inside you. It felt like your heart was beating only for me, and I never wanted it to beat for anyone else, never wanted to go another day without being allowed to feel its rhythm against my fingers inside of you, or my hand wrapped around your wrist, or my head against your chest. That's when I knew I felt forever about you."

It's strange to watch his own face as he takes in those words, the way his eyes grow even wider, his expression softening. He watches as his hand reaches for Eddie's, the one not three fingers deep inside him, and Eddie takes it, lacing their fingers together.

"I feel forever about you too, you know that, right? Fuck, Eddie, if we weren't already married, I'd ask you again right now."

Eddie pulls their intertwined hands to his mouth and kisses the simple platinum band on Steve's finger. "And I'd say yes and do it all over again, right down to our first song being an Ed Sheeran song, you musical heathen."

He finally tears his eyes away from the mirror to look directly at Eddie so his husband knows he means it when he says, "Then let's do it. Eddie Munson, will you marry me? Again?"

Eddie laughs, the sound bright and full of joy. "Only you would ask me to marry you while I'm three fingers deep in you, Stevie."

"That's not an answer."

"Yes, you crazy, wonderful man. Of course it is." Eddie laughs again, delirious with happiness, his whole body shaking with it. Steve feels it everywhere they touch, especially deep inside him, and it rekindles the hungry flame of desire.

"Then show me you mean it."

Pulling his fingers free, Eddie wipes them on the sheets before placing his hand right next to Steve's head. Then he moves their still joined hands to the other side and leans down to capture Steve's lips in a deep, searching kiss. It's as if he's pouring all his love, all that he's just said to Steve, into the way he kisses him. The new position puts Eddie almost completely on top of Steve and he can feel how hard Eddie is, leaking all over himself and Steve as their cocks slide against each other.

Steve thinks they're going to fuck just like that, Eddie making love to him while holding his gaze, sharing their breath and feeling each other's hearts beating against their chests.

They don't.

Instead, Eddie slides off him and settles down on his back next to Steve. He reaches for the lube again and coats his hard cock with it, obviously trying not to get too carried away with it. Steve wants to replace Eddie's hand with his own, but this is Eddie's show and he'll let him run it.

When Eddie is done, he slides his arm between Steve's back and the bed, his hand curled around Steve's waist, pulling him closer.n"Lie on top of me, Stevie. Your back to my chest so you can watch yourself fall apart on my cock."

Eddie Munson will be the death of him.

Steve does as he's told and gets into position, his back against Eddie's chest and his head resting on Eddie's shoulder. Eddie places his feet on the bed, his bent legs spreading Steve's on either side. They've never done it like this before, and as Eddie slides into him in one smooth motion, Steve wonders why. It's so good, the way Eddie stretches him from that angle, the slight sting of too much soon replaced by white-hot pleasure as he's filled so deeply.

He feels Eddie's hands on his body, one cupping his aching cock, the other gently pressing down on his throat. Steve moans softly, overwhelmed by all these sensations hitting him at once and he doesn't know what to do with himself. The way he's spread out on Eddie's lap, he has no leverage to move his hips, to take more than Eddie is willing to give, and he whines under his breath when Eddie doesn't move.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart."

Steve hadn't even noticed that he had closed them, too lost in his own pleasure. So he does as Eddie tells him and opens his eyes, his gaze finding the reflection in the mirror in an instant.

The sight takes his breath away and the moan that falls from his throat sounds choked.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Steve," Eddie marvels as he finally begins to move, slowly beginning to fuck into him, his eyes drinking in the sight as hungrily as Steve's. "You had to see this to believe me. Every love song is about you, every poem, every love story. The great masters couldn't dream of painting something as breathtaking as you, every marble statue pales in comparison to your beauty."

"Eddie," Steve gasps. He wants to say so much more, but he feels that nothing is as important as that single word.

After that, no more words are needed between them. Instead, Eddie kisses his temple as his hand on Steve's cock begins to pump his shaft at the same languid pace as his hips continue to move. It's the sweetest torture.

Steve's face is contorted with pleasure, his mouth open and panting. His skin is flushed, glistening with a thin layer of sweat that reflects the lamplight in a way that makes his skin look almost golden. The muscles in Eddie's forearm keep flexing, moving under the inked skin as one hand presses against his throat and the other slides up and down his cock.

It almost feels like there are two people fucking him, two people stroking him, two people choking him. The one he feels doing all these things and the one he watches doing them.

It’s overwhelming in it’s intensity, the single hottest thing he’s ever felt.

Eddie's hot breath fans across his face and as much as he tries to take it slow so he can make Steve fall apart first, the gasps and grunts that come from him tell Steve that he won't be able to hold back much longer. Which is good, because Steve doesn't know how much longer he can do this before he loses his goddamn mind.

"I'm so close, baby, fucking me so good. Looking so good. Want you to fill me up." Steve doesn't even recognize his own voice when he adds, "Please."

It's the please that pulls a deep moan out of Eddie, and Steve knows he's playing dirty, because Eddie can never deny him anything when he begs like that. He's only using this power for good though, because Eddie is just as desperate to come as Steve is. He can feel it in the way his hips immediately pick up speed at his words, his hand on Steve matching the new rhythm.

"I can't wait to marry you again," Eddie croaks after a few more thrusts, his voice choked with emotion. Those words and the way Eddie says them, combined with the way he's so full and the hand on him feels so good, is enough to throw Steve over the cliff and he comes in thick spurts all over his own chest.

It seems to go on forever and Steve forces himself to look, to keep his eyes from closing from the pleasure. He's never seen himself come like this before and it's probably a sign of how vain he is, but the sight is so fucking hot. More cum keeps dripping from his cock, helped by Eddie's hand milking him almost dry until it all becomes too much.

Beneath him, Eddie is now chasing his own climax, his hips losing all rhythm as they slam into him as deep as they can. The hand on his cock has let go as soon as Steve's moans of pleasure have become painful from how sensitive the flesh has become, but the one on his throat remains, pressing down harder. He keeps grinding inside Steve, small movements matching the breathy grunts in his ear, until Steve can feel Eddie tense and the warmth of his cum filling him.

Then Eddie sinks into the mattress like a marionette whose strings have been cut. His body is limp and his face contented as he tries to catch his breath. When his legs give out, he stretches them with a groan and it causes him to slide out of Steve, a small trickle of cum dripping out and onto him.

Steve is just as content and exhausted, every muscle in his body relaxed and he's probably getting heavy where his body is trying to sink into Eddie. He looks a mess, his face red, his hair as wild as Eddie's unruly curls and his chest smeared with his own cum.

Steve has never felt more covetable. Never felt more loved, and all thanks to Eddie and his uncanny ability to know exactly what Steve needs even before he himself does.

Squirming on top of Eddie until he manages to get off of him and curl into his body with an arm and a leg thrown over him, Steve nuzzles into Eddie's neck. He gets a lingering kiss on the top of his head for his trouble and they both sigh happily in unison.

After a few more minutes of shared silence and bliss, Steve can't help but ask in a quiet voice, "You meant it, didn't you? About marrying me again?"

He can hear the smile in Eddie's voice as he answers. "Oh baby, I'm actually one step ahead of you. There's a ring in my pocket waiting to be put on your hand if you want it. You just beat me to the proposal, you competitive ass."

He feels like he's glowing with happiness as he laughs in delightful surprise at Eddie's words. "You love my competitive ass so much you're marrying it again."

"That I do. Happy anniversary, Steve."

"Happy anniversary, Eddie."

#steddie #steddie smut #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #my writing #nsft

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spider-man-199999 · 9 months

Text

Pacifier pt 3

pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader;

word count: 5K

part1 part2

warnings: mentions of sex ; Peter is younger than the reader, but still 18. Reader is around 20. Peter is trying to pin reader even though he is younger.

summary: In this one you’re hired as Morgan’s babysitter (and low-key underpaid Stark!assistant). Looking after a little girl isn’t too hard, but looking after her “big bother” as well, definitely is.

an: Peter and reader are just Tony's kids at this point. I've never really written anything about people actually being in a relationship so apologies if it's kinda sucky.

"No, we're not making an official Avengers tik-tok account, forget it." You told Peter, who had been begging you for days now.

"But it's going to be soo good! People will see the silly, goofie side of everyone and that way we can build more trust!"

"Pepper, please back me up here!"

"Peter actually has a point." Pepper said.

All of you were sitting at the dinner table, it was the first family dinner since the Starks had come back from their vacation.

"Tony, please!" you looked at him, begging him to support you this time. "Do you seriously think anyone would want to participate in supid dance trends or prank wars?"

"I'm a great dancer!" Tony said, he was taking Peter's side to mess with you.

"I cannot believe this is actually about to happen. Imagine making Steve do a tik-tok dance. Or anyone for that matter. Imagine Tony doing the makarena in the iron suit!"

"It's going to be hilarious, exactly my point!" Peter whined, drinking some of the orange juice he had poured for himself.

"I'm not doing the makarena, I have a daughter!''

"Should have thought about it before backing up Spider-man on that one!"

"Should have thought about it before back up Spider-man on that one!" Tony mocked your tone "The world should see what these hips can do! We're definitely making a tik-tok account now!"

Your "relationship" with Peter was still in the closet, since the first month wasn’t over, you didn't really feel comfortable sharing it with anyone, especially Tony. Peter on the other hand was pretty much settled down. He spent every free minute he had at the tower just to be with you, which was really getting in the way of your studying. He was a lot of help with Morgan, most of the time you felt like both of them shared one brain cell. It made so much sense now why Tony loved Peter like his own son. And that being the case, your secret relationship with him was in the clear.

You gave Morgan a tissue, helping her wipe away some of the food that was on her face. She giggled because the corner tickled her nose, turning to look at you. You smiled at her, petting her head as she continued eating with her spoon, spilling most of the contents all over the table.

"Tony, do you even know what tik-tok is?" you asked.

"I'm not that told, of course I know!"

"It's that video app that Morgan watches on your phone." You explained anyway, sure he had no idea what the conversation really was about.

"It's that? Then no, we're definitely not making a tik-tok account."

---

Somehow Peter managed to persuade all of you into this. But if you think about it, he persuaded you into dating him, he could practically get anything he wanted. And because of this absurd idea, you were now setting up a phone on a tripod, placing it in the middle of the living room. Peter was next to you in his spider suit and the other Avengers were talking on the couch while you two worked.

"So you guys have to go rounds?" you asked, looking over at Peter. He had his mask off, holding it in one hand.

"Yeah, and after we film, we have to put the names after every round with an X on an O, depending on who managed to hide in time."

"Sometimes I think you started this whole thing because you don't have any friends."

"I have friends?"

You took a few steps back, seeing what was in the frame.

"Yeah? Like who? And you're not allowed to say me, we're not friends."

"Well, there's Ned and MJ."

"I don't think this is going to work out." You said, looking at the others. "You literally have gigantic, muscular men, trying to hide in a minimalistic living room. And then there's also the Hulk."

“Did you just thirst over muscular men right in front of me?” Peter laughed, placing his hand on your waist. Usually you would tense up when he did that, but since you were now dating, you didn't. "Trust me, it will be fun!"

"Mask on please, get everyone in position."

He nodded, putting his mask on and telling everyone to gather in front of the camera and pose. You stood behind the phone, looking at the frame. Everyone was in it. They were gathering like they were about to take a picture, standing in cool superhero poses.

"Okay guys, you look poster worthy. I'll count to 3 and all of you have 5 seconds to hide somewhere before the camera takes a picture!" you explained. Peter had ran through this with them before but you felt the need to explain again. "1, 2, 3..."

And you pressed record. Pure chaos was unleashed after that. Peter shot a web and stuck to the ceiling, Thor jumped over the couch along with Cap, laying flat on it so they were not visible. Hulk just grabbed the couch with both of them on it, lifting it and putting it in front of him sideways, while the others just fell on the ground on top of each other. Natasha practically jumped on an armchair that got knocked over from her force and got out of the frame entirely. The 5 seconds were over and you were barely holding in your laughter at that point. You had expected this to go badly but not nearly as bad as it actually was.

You did a few more rounds, each one more ridiculous than the previous. And after that you got to work, writing out the winners and losers to each round in your notes. Now all that was left was editing it and posting.

—

You were sitting at your desk, biting your lip as you were concentrating on figuring out where to place all the names and scores on the screen so they wouldn’t block out any important things in the video. Or should you have them appear at the end? Your work was interrupted by Peter walking in your room, making your head turn. He had the mask in his hand, still wearing the suit.

“Hi, pumpkin!” he said, which made you raise an eyebrow at him and squint your eyes in displeasure.

“That sounded ridiculously cheesy and I really hate it.’’

“I thought introducing some kind of pet name into this relationship would be nice, I need to change your name in my phone.”

“Think of another one.”

He walked over to you, a gentle kiss was immediately placed on the top of your head while his eyes wandered to your phone, looking as the video played with half of the scorings written in the middle of it.

“Ooo, did I win?” he asked, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“Mmmm, you didn’t lose definitely, but you lost a point on the third round when you stuck yourself in fetal position to Hulk’s back and he started spinning in circles trying to get you off.”

“That’s not fair! I hid well!”

“But the camera still saw you, I don’t make the rules.”

He kissed your cheek before laying down on your bed. You finished up the video and hit upload before following him. It was still new and uncomfortable for you to be affectionate with him in public, but your room offered a safe space to try. You wouldn’t shut him down when he tried making a move on you in front of the others like you used to do, but initiating intimacy yourself was really out of the picture. He put his phone away when he saw you get up, opening his arms. You lay on top of him as he wrapped his arms in a warm embrace. You relaxed your weight on him, head pressed against his chest. Cons to having a spider-man boyfriend was you were never worried you’d crush him.

“I need to say something and I don’t want it to turn into a fight.” he said, making you look at him.

You placed your hands on top of his chest, resting your head on them as you watched him.

“What is it about?” you asked.

“Since the month of us trying to date is almost over…”

“Pete… I know what you’re gonna say and the month isn’t over yet. Please don’t let it get over your head before it actually happens.”

“But we’re a week away from a month!”

“I know but a lot can happen in a week… You know exactly how much.” You told him, referring to the time you two had spent alone together almost a month ago.

“Okay, okay, baby mice steps. I get it.”

“Precisely.”

You tried to relax after the conversation, laying your head on his chest while he stroked your back gently. For some reason it was just not working to calm you down. You turned to look at him again and he was already staring, a soft smile painted across his lips. A soft sigh escaped yours, your hands reaching out to wrap around his neck and pull yourself closer to him. Still feeling uneasy from what he said, you slid your body on one of his sides, hiding your face in his neck. He giggled softly because you tickled him in the process, squeezing you gently.

“I’m sorry.” you mumbled against his neck, your hand drawing soft circles on his chest.

Peter hummed softly, raising your chin with his hand to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“It’s okay, I know I’m impatient.”

“No, I think you’re being reasonable. I’m the one who’s overreacting.”

He kissed you again, slowly and gently, his lips moving against yours while he still held your chin with his hand.

“You’re alright, babe. Baby steps.”

You nodded, letting your head fall on his shoulder this time, placing soft kisses on his jawline.

“Baby steps.” You repeated in a whisper.

You enjoyed cuddling with him more than you had anticipated, neither of you expected your primary love language to be physical touch. But Peter didn’t mind that even one bit, he loved touching you for comfort, his hands were on your legs whenever you two went somewhere with the car, no matter who was driving. He would make sure to place his hand one the small of your back whenever you two would pass each other in a hallway. His knee would touch yours under the dinner table when he was over. It was subtle and it brought the both of you so much comfort and adrenaline. You were basically hiding in plain sight.

You had no idea if Tony was onto the two of you yet or not. Peter was over way more than he used to be, he even sneaked in a few times during the night. The alarms wouldn’t go off because, well it was Peter after all. It wasn’t like you were trying to sneak in someone who wasn’t registered into the security systems. And Tony adored the kid, so he was extra happy about having him around more. Things were going pretty smoothly if anyone had to ask you.

—

You hated to admit, but Peter was right. This whole tik-tok thing was an absolute hit. It humanized all of the Avengers so much that people started trusting and liking them more than ever before. You were getting millions of likes and comments on all of the videos you uploaded, which were more or less different trends. It was annoying that you had to run the whole account, like you didn’t have enough work to do.

Today you filmed the tortilla slap challenge with Bucky, Natasha and Sam. Peter desperately wanted to join it but everyone was against the idea of him publicly announcing his secret identity, especially for a tik-tok. So you made him mop up the floor after, since he wanted to be involved so badly.

All of them went into a meeting straight after that, leaving you with 10 minutes to run and grab a coffee for everyone. The 10 minutes you had were definitely not enough to make it back with so many cups. And to top it all off, the Parker family was on a mission to make it extra difficult for you. Peter was spamming your messages begging you to listen to “Yellow hearts” by Ant Saunders because somehow it was “exactly describing the relationship you two had.” And you were walking down a street, trying to reply to a message, hands full of coffee cups, when you ran into Peter’s aunt - May.

“Oh, Y\N! Lovely seeing you!” she said with a bright cheerful smile, making you look up from your phone. You were trying to support the cups with your chin while you texted, because all of them couldn’t fit in the paper bag.

“May! Hey!” you replied once you shook off the surprise, shoving the phone in your back pocket.

“How are you, sweetheart? I’ve been hearing about you lately, but not seeing enough.” she smiled, placing a hand on your arm as she spoke.

“I’m alright, a little busy actually. Are you here to pick up Parker JR after the meeting?”

“Yes, and I thought I could drink some coffee while I’m waiting. Peter recommended the place.”

“He did, didn’t he?” you asked, trying to mask how frustrated and overwhelmed you were becoming. “I need to run, I’m already late.”

“It’s okay, we can catch up another time? Dinner over at Queens this week?” she asked, but you were already walking away from her.

You turned your head to look at her in a little bit of a shock, not expecting a whole dinner invitation to her house. Your fears turned out to be true, Peter had told her about dating you.

“I’m very busy, I’ll tell the spider whenever I can.” You smiled politely at her before walking away, in the most rapid pace you could manage without actually running.

“Hey, kid, these are for you.” you heard Tony say as he walked into the living room.

You were helping Morgan with a coloring book, or rather watching her color in it from time to time while you read through your biology textbook. Exams were coming up and you didn’t have a second to spare. Tony’s voice captured your attention, making you look up and see him hold a beautiful bouquet of yellow and white roses, decorated with little daisies.

“For me? Thank you Tony, but that’s so weird.”

“They’re not from me. They were left for you at the door.”

“The front door?”

“No, by the doggy door.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, getting up to look at the flowers yourself. In the meantime Tony took the card out reading out loud. You tried stopping him by grabbing the card but he lifted his hand up, making you jump to try to get it but failing.

“Thank you for coming to dinner last night, love, your secret boyfriend.” he read, looking at you in shock “You have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Does Peter know about you having a boyfriend?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yes, and he’s not sending you flowers at your door for having dinner with him. Who is he?”

“Tony, you’re not my dad.”

Your words made him snap out of his protective mode, giving you the flowers and the note. You took them in your arms reluctantly, reading the note to be sure he was actually right about what was written on it. Tony looked at you with an expression that you couldn’t really decode, it looked like shock, pain and worry at the same time. You were going to kill Peter, for real this time.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.” you said, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the two of you.

He placed an arm on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“Nothing to apologize for here, I know I can never replace your parents, I’m not trying either.” Tony gave your shoulder a pat, turning around to look at Morgan, who had stopped coloring and was now listening to the two of you.

“Thank you… For worrying about me, I appreciate it. I know I don’t say it enough but I value your presence in my life, or rather my presence is yours.”

“Please don’t make this more awkward than it already is.”

“Usually I’m the one who says that.”

“Would you look at that, your boyfriend has made you cheesy.”

You shook your head in disgust from his words, watching him as he walked over to Morgan and lifted her up in his arms, spinning around as he hugged her. It was your queue to leave before it got any weirder, so you gathered your books and left as fast as you could.

Shutting the door of your room behind you, phone on your ear as you had already dialed Peter’s number. He picked up on the fourth ring, right before you gave up on this call.

“Hey!” His cheerful voice on the other side of the line.

“What’s with those flowers?” you asked, cutting right to the chase.

“Don’t you like them? May said it was what I was supposed to do after you came over for dinner and she said flowers would be a ni-”

“I love the flowers, but Tony found them before I did.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you for not being dumb enough to not sign your name on that card.” you sighed, placing the bouquet on your desk next to the messy piles of notebooks. “Now he thinks I have a boyfriend.”

“But you do have a boyfriend.” he laughed softly. You could hear his smile on the other side of the line.

“I know this label makes you very happy, I’m glad it does, but please be more careful next time.”

“Alright, bet, next time I want to bring you flowers I’ll stick them to the ceiling of your room with my webs so no one else can see them.”

“Now that’s a thought.” you laughed, looking at the ceiling just to make sure he hadn’t already done that.

In reality, you weren’t mad at him for sending you flowers. You loved them, it was a very nice gesture and it made you feel warm on the inside. Sure, it wasn’t the best way to receive them and it stressed you out, but at the end of the day, you had a very good boyfriend that wanted to make you happy.

—

Peter walked in the apartment holding a red rose in his hand. His smile was spread across his face as the elevator door opened in front of him, leading him into the big living space. He came here straight from school, after his Math quiz. He didn’t bother going home first to leave his backpack, went straight to a flower shop to get you a rose and head to the Stark tower so he could invite you on a very special date. He expected you to be watching over Morgan alone and it caught him by surprise when he saw Tony sitting on the couch. You were standing next to him, reading over something which he had probably given you. Tony turned his head, noticing it was Peter with the side of his eye.

“Hey, kid.” he said.

Peter froze in his spot, his heart pounding in his chest from the fear of how this was going to play out. He had to think of something really fast. He threw the rose in the air as Tony’s head moved to face you again for a second, shooting a web at it to stick it to the ceiling.

“What’s with that rose?” Tony asked a second later, after he processed what he had seen, turning fully around to look at Peter.

“What rose?” Peter replied, looking around, his hands empty now.

“I swear you were holding a rose just now.”

“No, I wasn’t. Maybe you saw my Math quiz with this big red A written on it.” The paper was folded in half and shoved in his back pocket because he was in such a rush to get here, he didn’t have time to put it in his bag. He took the paper out of his pocket, showing it to Tony.

Their conversation made you look up at Peter. You knew he was lying. The tone of his voice sounded nervous and like he was going to crack under the pressure.

“You need to work on your lying skills.” Tony said, turning his back to him and looking at you again. You looked at Peter, then at Tony and your gaze fell on the papers.

“Everything seems fine.” You told Tony, handing him the red folder back. He had hired some new engineers for his labs, helping him and wanted you to review their work just in case. It wasn’t like you were majoring in engineering, your passion was biology and biochemistry, but you just knew math well enough to spot any mistake if there was any.

“Okay, thank you. You’re free now” He told you, reading through the folder again.

Ten minutes later Tony was still sitting on the couch, reading through the folder. You and Peter silently decided to study on the kitchen table across from each other. You were already engrossed in the textbook you were reading, highlighting, writing things down in your notebook, sticking sticky notes in the book. You were trying your best to ignore Peter’s constant fidgeting in his seat, the annoyed flipping through pages with sighs escaping his lips. His hands moving on the table when he would get bored, making you flinch in your seat, worried he would try to touch you in front of Tony. You heard silent ripping of paper, trying to ignore it, but Peter threw it a small paper ball at you to get your attention. You looked over at him, annoyed by his overall behavior in the last 10 minutes. Both of you had finals knocking at your doors and he was doing everything in his power to distract you. He pointed at the ceiling as soon as your eyes met, making you look in the direction. And there it was, the rose Tony was talking about earlier, a single red rose, webbed onto the ceiling. You wanted to burst out laughing but held yourself back, looking at Peter again. He was writing something, passing it to you a few seconds later.

“Will you be my prom date?” it read, looking at him and shaking your head no. You had already told him a million times you were not going to do it. He pouted, putting his hands together and locking his fingers into a prayer, begging you to say yes. You shook your head again, giving him back the note.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Tony asked, making the two of you jump in your seats.

He had been looking at the two of you for the past 5 minutes, he saw the rose as well, saw Peter begging you and you declining. He was standing by the table. This whole time you felt like you were in detention with Peter, and now that Tony caught you, the feeling got deeper. Neither of you said anything, staring at Tony in shock. And since you wouldn’t speak, Tony took the paper and laughed.

“I don’t think her boyfriend is gonna like that.”

“Her boyfriend?” Peter asked, looking at you.

“Yeah, she has a boyfriend.”

“I don’t think he’ll mind.” Peter continued.

“I definitely think he will.”

“No he won’t, he’ll be quite happy actually.”

“What is making you think that?”

“Because it’s me, I’m her boyfriend.”

You didn’t say a word the entire conversation. A few weird looks were shared between the three of you in complete silence. You felt like you wanted to die. Peter turned to stare at you, waiting for you to confirm it. Tony was staring at you too, unsure if this was real or another attempt of Peter’s to flirt with you. Then he laughed, Tony started laughing loudly and sincerely. He was laughing so hard you could see a tear running down his cheek. Peter whined, throwing his head back in frustration from his reaction.

“It’s true! Tell him!”

You gulped, looking at the still-laughing Tony.

“It is.” you almost whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear you.

“Wait.” Tony stopped, looking at the two of you with furrowed brows. “Really?”

“Yeah.” you said, nodding softly.

—

The lights flashed softly as you walked in, blinding you for a second. You tried to walk in a straight line but the lights did not help you at all. You grabbed Peter’s arm for support, scared you would miss a threshold that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and trip. Peter looked over at you in concern, thinking something had suddenly made you anxious. You looked at him as well, blinking rapidly, trying to adjust to the light changing all of a sudden. Your hand was holding his biceps, squeezing it softly. He placed his other hand on yours, patting softly. He stared at you until you nodded that you were okay now and you could continue walking. Of all the cringe things you were expecting to see tonight, a disco ball was definitely not on the list.

“Penis Parker with an actual date to prom? This will go down in history as the biggest plot twist!” You heard a somewhat familiar voice from behind you, turning around only to be faced with Flash.

“Oh, it’s that annoying guy.” You said, looking at Peter, who nodded in agreement.

“Wait, I know you, you were at my party once.”

“Unfortunately, yes, I was.”

“Why are you with that loser, ditch him, you should be my date instead.” Flash said, reaching a level of annoyance you didn’t even know existed.

“Sorry, I don’t do charity work on evenings but you can try the homeless kitchen in Queens on Saturdays and Tuesdays, I’m usually there to help on those days.” you told him as Peter wrapped his arm around your waist. “Plus we’re kind of already matching.” you pointed at Peter. “Your costume wannabe will clash with my dress and that’s a big no from me.”

Peter was trying his best not to laugh as you were absolutely destroying Flash verbally. It brought back memories from when you used to do the same with his attempts to flirt.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t want to know what kind of sado-maso sex you two freaks are having.”

“Did you just call me a sadist? I didn’t know you could read people so well, Flash!” you asked, looking at Peter for back up.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Peter said, pulling you closer to him and walking the two of you away. “That was brutal, can’t let you ruin his ego on his prom night!”

“Someone had to do it!” you whined, your hands crossing in front of your chest.

“We’re here to have a good time! Come on! Let’s dance and not think about Flash.”

“Remind me, how exactly did you convince me to come to this? I hated my own prom and I’m definitely hating yours too.”

“You want me to remind you?”

You nodded, his hands resting on each side of your hips as he looked at you. His forehead pressed against yours, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Are you sure you want me to remind you here?” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded again, looking at him. Your arms still crossed on your chest.

“In front of all these people?” He asked with a fake shocked expression on his face, pulling your body closer. You rolled your eyes at him, his arms wrapping around you, chests pressed together.

Your heartbeat accelerated as you looked at him, faces inches away from each other. His hot breath glided across the skin on your face, making your eyes fall shut as his lips gently touched yours. His fingers dug into the soft skin on your back. You rested your hands on his chest as he kissed you, consciously trying not to ruin his suit by grabbing anything you shouldn’t. He wasn’t that careful tho, his other hands scrunching the fabric that was so perfectly wrapped around your waistline, in desperate attempts to feel your body closer to his.

“Did I remind you?” he asked, breath heavy as he broke the kiss seconds before.

“You basically just admit to seducing me into this.” you told him, your head resting on his shoulder as he rocked the two of you gently to the rhythm of the blues that was playing in the background.

“You can never just fall on your back, can you?”

“Never!”

The two of you laughed, him kissing your forehead as you continued swaying, wrapped in each other's embrace.

---

taglist (If you want to be added or removed, please DM me!)

@asthmaticcchoeee @ivyquill

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mydearzero · 2 years

Note

can you pls do a pt 2 of last 3 sins it was rlly good 🤭

The Last Three Sins | Part II | E.M. x gn!Reader

MASTERLIST

Part 1 I have covid, it's 2 am & I didn't beta read so take that for what you want

Summary: You can't stop thinking about Eddie since last week, and Robin notices. Time to drive Dustin to Hellfire one more time and confront your desires.

A bit smuttier than the last, plus some best friend fluff with Robin

Gender Neutral Reader

The days were slowly getting longer, the sunshine lingering on your skin with a warmth you'd missed since last summer. As you enjoyed the sunlight with your eyes closed, Robin startled you. "Okay, we were out of lemonade, so I brought some water and soda because I didn't know what you wanted. I also brought some snacks, but- hey, are you even listening?"

Your mind had been a jumbled mess since the... situation with Eddie. You had let your eyes wander to the metalhead one too many times in class. What once had been a mere fascination was slowly turning into infatuation. Your fingers absentmindedly made their way up to your neck.

"Honestly, what has gotten into you? You've been off all week, well, more than usual. I'm starting to wonder if I need to get Steve involved to talk some sense into you because you are OBVIOUSLY. NOT. LISTENING." A bag of chips hit your head.

"I'm fine, Robin. Just got a lot on my mind." You sighed as you sank your sunglasses back down on your face. Maybe you should've told her, but she'd make a big deal about it. Or even worse, she'd make fun of you. You loved Robin but every now and then, she really knew how to get under your skin.

"Okay, freaky monster Upside Down, a lot? Or I'm in love with Eddie Munson, a lot? Because those are two very different problems that require two very different solutions. Unless you want to get freaky with Vecna to see if that'll kill him, then the solutions are actually quite similar. Hey, do you think he'd even have the abil- HEY!" Robin gasped as you threw the same bag of chips at her face that she'd thrown at yours.

"What the hell are you insinuating?" You were absolutely not in love with Eddie. He was just... pretty. And funny. And sweet. Maybe a little crush, sure.

"You've looked at him like he was the second coming of Christ for the last few weeks now. Are you seriously still under the impression you hate him?" You hadn't realized you'd been that obvious. Besides, you didn't want to date him, did you? You just liked the physical bonus that would come with it.

"Dustin told me, you know. Well, he told Steve and Steve told me, but that's basically the same as Dustin telling me. That you stayed behind after Hellfire last week, alone with Eddie." Robin raised her eyebrows in question.

"Nothing happened! He just wanted to have a little... talk."

"So you're saying if he'd wanted something else, something would've happened?"

"Well, if he did, he wouldn't have left me hanging the way he did," You grumbled as you turned away to pluck at the grass. There was no use in hiding your true feelings from Robin. The girl could read you like you were her favourite magazine.

Robin clapped as she let out a laugh. "Oh, this is amazing. What happened?"

"Let's just say he noticed me watching and decided to give me a closer look and feel. But he didn't kiss me or do anything of note whatsoever, so don't get your panties twisted."

A comfortable silence surrounded you as you both took a sip of your sodas. You turned back to look at Robin, unable to gauge her reaction without seeing. She picked at the grass as a tiny smirk made its way onto her face.

"It's his hands, right?"

"Jesus, Robin. I told you that in confidence!" You smacked her as she squealed. You'd indulged about your.. thing for hands one drunken night. It was the same night Robin had come out to you, however, so you'd kind of assumed she'd overlooked your silly confession.

"But it is, right? With the rings and all?" The question lingered in the air as a slow smile crept on your lips to match hers.

"Yeah, Robin, it's his hands." You finally divulged.

"What are you gonna do?" Robin finally asked. That was the age-old question. What were you gonna do?

"He obviously expects me to be at Hellfire tonight after what happened last week, so I guess I'm still driving Dustin after dinner and seeing what happens."

"Do let me know, will you? Or don't, depending on the whole 'Is-Getting-Freaky-The-Solution' kind of thing. Just... tell me if something happens but not what, because that's disgusting."

"You are a peculiar person, Robin Buckley. But I will."

_________________________________________________________

When Dustin got in your car, you knew he was dying to ask. You didn't indulge, that's a whole ass child.

You didn't want to get out of the car. You didn't want to give Eddie the satisfaction of knowing you'd returned. Came back to see him.

You sucked it up and slammed the car door shut. You walked into the school and followed Dustin to the theatre classroom in silence. Your eyes met Eddie's in an instant, and you immediately noticed the sparkle of mischief in them.

You didn't want to glance down at his hands, but he ran them through his hair expertly, diverting your attention from his eyes. He was wearing more rings than usual, his nails freshly painted black. He knew you'd noticed when your lips parted slightly.

Two could play that game, however. You took off your jacket and adjusted your clothes and everything else, so your neck and collarbones were now on full display. He'd seemed to like them, after all. You sat down on a chair to the side, making sure to be in his eye line at all times.

He played like usual, only sparing you a glance once or twice. Did he enjoy knowing you'd be forced to look at him while he could not give you the light of day? Did he relish in you observing his every move?

The game felt like it went on forever, yet was over in the blink of an eye. You didn't know whether he'd make you stay behind again or if he had some other wicked plan to make you suffer.

Your question was answered as Dustin walked off with Jeff without turning back or questioning anything. You felt Eddie's hands rest on your shoulders, turning you to face him. They slowly but steadily made their way to your hips, pulling them closer.

"You drive me fucking insane, sweetheart. Looking at me all week with those pleading eyes. Begging me to do something." He whispered in your ear as he moved to let his lips trail against your neck. He took your chin in his hand and turned your face to whisper in your other ear.

"Is this what you wanted, hmm?" He didn't kiss your neck or nip at it. Just the ghostly touch of his lips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Please."

He tutted at the plead. "I thought we talked about this, darling. Impatience. Greed. Lust. Very blasphemous, don't you think?" He took your earlobe between his teeth before allowing his hands to roam to find your own. He took them in his and set them against his chest before making them trail down. "I guess that makes us two sinners. Do you feel what you do to me?"

Feel you did. Your hands seemingly moved on their own, pulling him closer to find any friction. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pushed you up against the table. That same table. This time you felt him lift you to sit back, pushing your legs open to stand between them.

"If you want something, all you need to do is ask," Eddie smirked. You let your gaze move down to his neck and the exposed end of a tattoo which was on his chest.

"Kiss me."

"Hmm, I think you can do better than that." You gaped at his comment. Was he being serious? Did he not want this as much as you?

He placed his hands on your thighs and leaned in close. "Beg for me."

His fingers stroked up and down your thighs now, making sure to never go up too high, but enough to drive you crazy.

"Unless you don't want to, of course. You can leave if that's what you want. But you don't want that, do you?" Your head shook 'no' frivolously. You cursed at your desperation.

"Then beg."

"Please, Eddie." You leaned forward, almost falling off the table if it weren't for Eddie standing between your legs.

"Please what?"

You all but whined. "Please, kiss me, Eddie. Please." You felt yourself swallow your pride once more. Funny, as you'd accused him of being Mr Pride only a week prior.

"Ask, and you shall receive." His left hand located your cheek, while his right found its home on your neck once again. The rings might not be cold, as they'd long been heated by his hands, but that didn't make them any less prominent against your skin. "This is what you wanted, right? My hand around your pretty little neck while I kiss you?"

You nodded and pressed your lips against his, desperate for something to finally happen. Eddie kissed back with a vigour you hadn't anticipated. He desired this just as much as you did.

Your hand found its way under his shirt, slowly making its way up to his chest. You felt the uneven skin of his scars. He moved to kiss your neck, surely leaving an abundance of marks for you to discover in the morning. His fingers caressed in tandem with his mouth, leaving you gasping and breathless.

You whined as he suddenly stepped back to marvel at his work. He grinned as he took you in, desperate for him, marks adorning your neck, chest heaving.

"A masterpiece, if I do say so myself. Now, c'mon. I'm pretty sure security will be coming in any moment now to check if we're gone. Can't have them find you here like this, now can I?"

You'd survived the Upside Down. Dealt with a Demogorgon. But Eddie? Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.

"Wipe that stupid smile off your face, Munson."

_______________________

Taglist: @alicefallsintotherabbithole

#eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things s4 #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

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ghosttotheparty · 11 months

Note

Dialogue prompts: 08. “I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.”

hi sorry this took so long!!! i decided to do byler for this one bc i don't write them enough and i had another byler idea so i just thought id combine them <3 also on ao3

The air feels tense.

Everyone is downstairs, but it's like Mike can feel the way they're all holding their breaths too as they prepare.

Prepare feels like such a silly word. But he can't think of a better one. They're all packing their bags with first aid supplies. Nancy is making sure she has enough ammunition. Steve is putting more nails in his bat. (Some of them have bent over the years.)

Mike looks across the room at where Will is changing his shirt. His back is to Mike, and Mike watches his muscles shift under his skin as he pulls the fabric down over his head and shakes his hair out. It's gotten longer.

Will exhales shakily, pausing after fixing the shirt around his waist, and then he leans down to grab his shoes, looking back at Mike, whose cheeks flush with heat when their eyes meet.

"'S gonna be alright," Will says gently, and of course he wouldn't understand why Mike is looking at him.

"Yeah," Mike says, taking a deep breath, nodding, watching Will cross the room to sit on the bed next to him, bending over to put his shoes on. "I know."

It's quiet as Will ties his shoelaces and then reties them, tighter. He's always liked having his laces done up tightly, but Mike supposes it makes sense in this context, needing his laces in a knot that won't come undone. Will holds his feet out in front of himself when he's done, knocking his shoes together. Mike copies him.

They both look down, sitting side by side, listening to Dustin say something in the hallway. His voice is muffled and they can't understand him, but he doesn't seem to be talking to them, so it doesn't really matter. Their hands are almost touching where they're both holding the edge of the bed, their pinkies brushing as Will bumps his foot into Mike's, and Mike smiles.

It feels so stupid, getting butterflies at a time like this, but he can't help it. Will does it again, and Mike retaliates, knocking their shoes together harder, kicking him away. He suppresses a smile when Will snorts.

"You're so dramatic," Will says, but Mike can hear his smile.

"I've never been dramatic a day in my life."

"Oh my god, you liar--"

Mike elbows Will, and Will lets out a giggle (a giggle), trying to dodge it, but he's unsuccessful, and he just turns his body, laughing as he tries to catch Mike's arm as he tries to elbow him again.

"You're so annoying," Will laughs, trying to get him back, and Mike grins, knocking his arm away and reaching to jab him in the ribs. Will yelps, hunching over to block his midsection, but he just falls forward, into Mike, who catches him in his arms.

"You're annoying," Mike refutes, feeling the way Will shakes when he giggles again.

"How the fuck am I annoying?" he asks, and he's just leaning against Mike now, not even trying to pull away.

"You're so optimistic," Mike complains, but it just makes Will laugh again, and they shift, staying close, leaning against each other, Mike's arm around Will's shoulder. Will's hands are in his lap, his fingers tangled.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Will asks lightly, and it sounds like such a genuine question that Mike doesn't even know what to say. He guesses he's kind of right. They've all gotten through everything in the past few years with bumps and bruises and scars and nightmares, but they've still managed. Why won't they this time?

"So annoying," Mike says, and Will snorts. "I mean, seriously, I've never met anyone as annoying as you."

"Wow," Will says slowly, elbowing Mike's side, but neither of them pulls away. "You ever run into a mirror?" Mike's jaw drops, but he's grinning, and he drops his arm when Will reaches an arm up and tugs at his hair. "I guessed you haven't 'cause of this mess, but..."

"Wow," Mike says loudly, ignoring the way Will's fingers in his hair make his brain short-circuit a little. "Now you're just being mean, I was gonna say you're annoying 'cause you're so sweet."

"Sweet?" Will exclaims, his arm dropping, but it's resting on Mike's shoulder, his hand still touching the ends of his hair. "Since when am I sweet?"

"Since always, are you kidding me?"

"No?" They're both laughing. This is ridiculous. "I've never been sweet, oh my god--"

"What about when you gave that girl your toy because she was sad?" Mike says, running his hand over Will's back absentmindedly, over his spine and the folds in the fabric of his t-shirt. (That's actually Mike's t-shirt, but Mike is trying not to think about that.) "Or when I was sick that year and you brought me, like, a stack of drawings you did for me?"

Will rolls his eyes, playing with the ends of Mike's hair, his cheeks flushing pink.

"That was when we were little kids," he says dismissively. "That doesn't count."

"You're still sweet," Mike argues. "And it's annoying."

"My sweetness is annoying," Will repeats, suppressing a smile as he looks at Mike, and they're so close, sitting like this. Mike could count his eyelashes.

"Yeah, it's like you fucking glow with it." Will interrupts with a laugh. “I mean, I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.”

Will's eyes squeeze shut when he giggles again, turning his face away, His arm falls heavily on Mike's shoulder, and his fingers are still tangled in the ends of Mike's hair, and Mike thinks maybe Will doesn't actually hate his hair as much as he says he does. Mike runs his hands over his back again. He's warm through the fabric of the shirt, and Mike settles on what he said. Will is sunshine.

"You're so annoying," Will says after a moment, still smiling.

"You're annoying."

Will glares at him half-heartedly, but he's smiling a little, and Mike grins. And then Will's eyes flicker down to his mouth, and Mike is awfully aware of how quiet it is. He can almost hear their heartbeats. They're fast.

Will's fingers push into Mike's hair, and his hand is holding the back of his head gently like it's fragile, and Mike slides his hand up Will's back, skimming his face. (And it's a really nice fucking face. God.)

They're getting closer. Mike exhales when their noses brush together, and Will's eyes flutter shut, his fingers tangling with Mike's curls and tightening a little bit.

Mike tilts his head, nudging his chin up, and this is fucking happening, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god--

Will moves closer, his other hand finding Mike's leg and holding on loosely, like he's scared of breaking him, of breaking the moment, and their lips brush, and Mike's eyes sting.

But neither of them has to worry about breaking the moment, because Mike's door bursts open, and Dustin sticks his head in as they jump apart.

"Hey, we're ready to go," Dustin says breathlessly, apparently not noticing anything out of the ordinary. He's wearing a black bandana on his head. "You guys ready?"

"Uh, yeah," Will says weakly, pulling his hand away from Mike's lap as his arm falls from his shoulder hesitantly, and Mike realizes how close they are, but he doesn't pull his arm away from where it's resting around Will's lower back. "We'll be right there."

Dustin nods. He leaves the door open when he goes back downstairs.

Will sighs, and he falls forward so his forehead is on Mike's shoulder. He puts his hands back in his lap, pausing there for a moment. Mike runs his hand up his back again, holding him close for a moment.

And then Will lifts his head, taking another breath.

"We'll be fine," he says lightly. Too lightly.

"Optimism," Mike says dryly, raising an eyebrow. Will cracks a smile, softening.

They sit together in Argyle's van, side by side across from Lucas, who's facing the ceiling, his eyes closed, and El. Mike glances at Will. He's got his head down, his eyes closed, and he's taking deep, measured breaths. Mike's chest aches as he listens to them, and he looks ahead again, meeting El's eye. She gestures toward Will with an unreadable expression, but Mike gets it.

He reaches over hesitantly before he sets his hand on Will's leg, touching him lightly just above his knee. Will doesn't react, and Mike runs his thumb back and forth gently, watching Will carefully in case he hates it.

Will's eyes flutter open, landing on Mike's hand on his leg, and he exhales shakily before he reaches for it. His hand is shaking a little as he slides his palm over the top of Mike's hand before he entwines their fingers, and his hand is so warm it's ridiculous. Will takes another breath, letting his head fall back against the wall of the van. They hit a bump, and it jostles them, and Will's hand tightens on Mike's.

Mike sighs, running his thumb over Will's skin gently, relaxing against the wall, and El catches his eye again. She nods, smiling softly.

Everyone is quiet as they exit the van, as they all line up to go through the gate. Steve helps them all through, holding their hands and arms tightly to support them.

They all seem hesitant to separate into their groups. Mike feels sick, watching Will turn to join Steve and Robin, almost panicked as his stomach twists and turns, as the thunder rumbling turns to white noise, and as he watches them all step away, he can't stop himself before

"Will."

They all turn back, which wasn't Mike's intention, but he doesn't really care when their eyes meet, because Will looks fucking desperate, like he's about to burst into tears, and Mike's whole body hurts. It's quiet as they look at each other, as Will's eyes glisten, and then Mike is moving forward, going down the steps two at a time, and he's kissing him.

This wasn't how this was supposed to go.

But his hand is holding Will's cheek, and Will's arms wrap around his waist tightly, and their lips press so hard it kind of hurts, but Mike doesn't fucking care. He also doesn't fucking care that literally everyone is seeing this, and El is the only one who even knows he likes Will, and Jesus fuck, what the hell is he doing--

But Will's hands grasp at his jacket, holding him close, and after a moment Will tilts his head, and the kiss softens, and maybe everything has actually been worth it.

They both gasp when they part, and Mike holds Will's head in his hands, his fingers pressing into his hair gently as their foreheads press. A tear slips down Will's cheek as his eyes close, and Mike wipes it away.

"Optimism," he whispers. "Right?"

Will's hands tighten on Mike's jacket, and he takes a shaky breath, nodding, and then he lifts his chin, pressing a soft kiss to Mike's lips.

And Mike has never wanted to survive anything more as they separate and part ways.

#so anyway #i love them #i wanted to make this longer but i have zero energy and its already three am so ig this is the ending were getting #take from it what you will #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler fanfic #byler one shot #will byers fanfic #mike wheeler fanfic

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remnostrum · 1 year

Text

I'm working on a steddie fic right now, and it's really just indulgent towards fellow steddie fans who are also huge d&d nerds. Because, yes, I get that Steve would not go for playing Dungeons and Dragons. And maybe he would not be great at it or it's confusing for him, understandable. I, myself, am a huge D&D nerd who still can't grasp how to math every time my character levels up

BUT, OKAY, BUT !!

Steve Harrington playing D&D because he fell in love first and he wants to impress Eddie Munson.

Steve Harrington trying and learning, and finding out he likes D&D but more in the fighting aspect. Then, he finds out later that he likes it even more when he has to play D&D because roleplaying is fun when people take it seriously.

'Cause D&D is a central concept in Stranger Things, but beyond dice throwing and parallels and the fighting sequences, we don't really see much of them playing with a lot of roleplaying. (Besides Will in that one scene that was just sad) Which I get because not every D&D player is a huge fan of roleplaying their character. But I think Steve would do well in it—even if his character isn't one that is really close to him in real life.

He'd be so into his character—pays attention to every detail he can push into the conversations. I want him to try playing someone similar to him then next time he plays someone that he imagines could've been him. And it'd be nice. (Also a good excuse to flirt with Eddie in game.)

I have an idea for who his character will be for my fic (hehe). It'll be really cool cus imagine if he pulled up doing really good in roleplaying and Dustin and the others start feeling like they have to do better because this guy is a beginner, I refuse to lose.

And then there's Eddie within it all. Bewildered, amused, and a little bit more in love with Steve.

[this idea really came from Steve being a lil silly in the show and that one scene where he said he could totally charm the mental hospital director. i imagined he'd actually be pretty good and very into acting out a charming sidekick if he went.]

(Also idk how the fandom feels about OCs being in fics but I want to insert one in the fic lmao. Someone else that teaches Steve about D&D and maybe a lil smthg about lgbt too. There will be no romantic notions between them. Trust me.)

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dnd #steddie fic #wip #please don't steal my idea lmao #ao3 fic

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stevebabey · 1 year

Note

ruby!!! i wrote a lil concept about this a few days ago but steve is lactose intolerant and he genuinely forgets. like he had an entire cheese board assuming that he’d take tums later and he forgets that he ran out of tums so he had a tummy ache all night sjfbsbdbbs

IVY U LOVE MAKING MY BOY SUFFER!!! ur so right though, he's a lil rich boy so his parents just bought him all the expenny products that don't hurt his tummy and he grew up for like. 15 years and didn't realise that he was being fed special df cheese until tommy ordered pizza for them over at his house and so it wasn't steve's usual place that just knows his order and steve was like :( dude i think i've got a stomach bug :( like this idiot just DOESNT KNOW and yeah, alright, he figures it out from then and knows he can have some dairy but not like an entire cheese pizza to himself. there are limits okay, steven? u can't just eat ur little cheese heart out sadly - well technically he can if he takes some medication after

so instead of picking a different food, he relies on tums and still knowing this, he decides to make a little cheeseboard for you guys for a date. he's a sweetheart okay, he just really likes chopping up all the stuff and arranging it all nicely on the board and honestly, that's what half the effort is!! because steve just grabbed cheeses based on the labels :) he's like this one is a heart shaped!! i had to get it- and this one had nice green packaging :) i dunno what they taste like but we'll find out :) what a goober <3 but after some gorging on surprisingly delicio cheese -- not the heart shaped one :( that one you both tried and went bleh! and steve was actually really ticked off that it looked so nice but tasted so gross -- you're both just wrapped up w each other on the couch, watching a film but not really cos ur just happy to be tangled up with each other

and then u hear it, the beginnings of a groan, some warbled rumble under your hands that are tucked around his middle. steve at least has the decency to look a little sheepish as he smiles down at you bcos you told him this would happen and he still went ahead and bought n ate all that cheese anyway. he wriggles out of ur hold and is like, 'just be a minute, okay honey?' and gives u a little a kiss on your forehead nd ducks upstairs to grab some tums. except of course, there isn't any and he finished them last time he decided to ignore his tummy in favour of delicious dairy.

so just as your finally tuning into the film, u hear the most pathetic little baaaaaby from the doorframe and when u look over your shoulder, he's hunched over a bit, arms wrapped around his middle lookin a little sad :( and you're like ohmygod steve bcos you! knew! this would happen! but you just open your arms and honestly, for a split second you seriously consider if he's done this all on purpose just to get coddled

so when he's all bundled up best you can (he's a big boy okay, u being the big spoon doesn't make sense most the time) u press a kiss into his shoulder and say a little cheeky, 'you know u can just ask to be the little spoon,' you hum, dotting little kisses along the slope of his neck while your hands slip under his shirt, giving him a soft lil tummy rub and steve honest to god keens just a bit, a soft content noise slipping out his throat as he relaxes back into you, even as u continue 'you don't gotta eat silly foods you know your stomach can't handle just for a tummy rub bub' and he gets a little grumbly like 'i liked the cheese too' but definitely doesn't deny what you're saying hehe <3 but u know what? u get to give extra good cuddles to your boyfriends cute tummy so it's a win-win situation

#turns out i can't be normal bout any steve concept ever huh #so many other things i SHOULD and COULD be writing #my non-american ass looking up tums to see wtf it is #every hc u have ivy is like steve is ALLERGIC to DOGS and POLLEN and CHEESE #why u want him MISERABLE BABE!?!?!#i love cheeseboards so hard tho so i wouldn't care <3 i'll eat all the cheese nd prevent the tummy ache #AND THEN GIBS IT KISSES ANYWAYS!!!#stevie thoughts <3 #ruby talks #asks #answered #hehehe

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mayumiiyuu · 2 years

Note

hi hi!

for the song fics, i'm thinking of the song 'don't dream it's over' by crowded house, specifically the lyric 'there is freedom within, there is freedom without' in relation to leaving high school and the facade one builds during those years.

thinking of relating to a conversation steve has with reader (who is his partner) (who is still in high school, their final year) and steve is reassuring them that there is so much more to life outside of high school and that they don't need to worry so much about the future because he's gonna be there, by their side 🥺😫

just fluffy and cute and sweet omg, maybe with a little forehead kiss 😭

s. harrington || don't dream it's over

A/N: omg this was so cute :'D hope u like it!

Here you were, barely even two weeks in until your graduation, then summer, then college, and you were already a ball of nerves. Everything seemed to happen so fast, where had all the time gone?

Memories of elementary and middle school passed through your mind in a blur, settling on your days throughout high school.

You remembered how you spent all night choosing the right outfit in order to make a good impression, something that said 'I'm mature now since I'm in high school, but I'm still really cool'. You recall the initial nervousness you felt deep within the pit of your stomach as you first walked through the hallways, all skittish and worried about how your hair looked or if people were going to like you.

Nostalgia hits you like a speeding truck as you recount the nights you spent over at your friends' houses, giggling as you played truth or dare and gossiped about your crushes. Back then you used to wonder if you'd even be lucky enough to have a boyfriend.

Now all you wanted to do was travel back in time and slap yourself silly for ever being so caught up in yourself that you'd even doubt your own self worth based on if a boy (of all people) would like you.

'Don't date that one dude from your science class, give a mediocre dude special attention and suddenly he'll think he's a hotshot' is what you'd advise your past self, to save you from all that humiliation and heartbreak.

You'd have to tell your past self to do, however, actually give this one popular guy a chance instead of making it hard for him to ask you out because you thought he was an asshole, he would turn out to be one of the best people you could ever meet, and well,

love.

"Okay, I'm gonna be fully honest with you and just come out and tell you that I have no idea what any of this means." Steve says, defeat in his tone as he looked over the notes you had lent to him.

You roll your eyes at him, nudging his arm with your elbow.

"C'mon, Harrington, thought you wanted to make it through life with a High School diploma at the very least." You snickered.

"Ha ha," Steve responds sarcastically before leaning in to give you a peck on the lips. "Maybe my mind isn't processing anything because my study buddy's so distractingly cute."

You scoff, poking him on the cheek. "Not my fault you got with me for my looks."

"And your personality, your heart, your passions, and your amazing little brain!" He adds, taking your hand to kiss your knuckles.

You attempt to give him a stern look despite the butterflies that were currently attacking your stomach.

"Okay, okay, in all seriousness, Steve, we need to get back to reviewing if we want even a shot at passing the final."

Steve only responded with a grown as he slumped on your desk. "Maybe it won't be too bad of me to hang back for bit, High School wasn't that bad."

You smack him lightly on the head with your notebook, to which he responds to with an overdramatic 'ow'.

"Don't joke around with me like that, Harrington. You promised me we'd be attending college together."

Steve buries his face in his hands. "Or I could just.. not go through school all over again." He mutters, loud enough for you to hear.

You let out a breath of frustration and cocked your head at him, running your tongue along your teeth. Was he being serious, or was this just his senioritis kicking in? You bumped his shoulder with yours.

"Okay, how about we take a 15 minute break, hmm? That sound good to you?"

Steve's head jolted up, a grin on his lips as he faced you.

"Wanna go for a drive?"

...

As you and Steve drove through the town of Hawkins, Indiana, you couldn't help but be struck with a certain sense of sentimentality as your mind goes through all your memories in the small town you grew up in.

While you passed by the park, you remembered how you used to climb the monkey bars and run circles around all the kids who tried to catch you as you played tag. Driving by a street downtown you happened to pass by the diner you and Steve had your first date at, recounting the flutter of your heart as he greeted you with a bouquet of flowers in his hand; he didn't have the time to go buy an actual bouquet, so he made do by picking flowers from his mother's own garden, which resulted in him being scolded, but he didn't care, to him, it was worth it as he saw the smile on your face.

As your mind wanders, you can't help but feel a heaviness in your heart. Reminiscing about this town, how despite all its complications and faults, was still your home, your safety net. It was as if your life had just passed you in one stressful, surreal blur. Now you were set to graduate, to leave home and be suddenly thrusted into the world of adulthood. It was time for you to say goodbye to childhood, to immature teenage impulses and the child-like wonder in how you used to view the world.

You blink as you feel your eyes prick with tears. Before they could fall, you swiftly wipe them away.

Steve glances in your direction, immediately knowing something was wrong.

"Hey hey hey, you okay, babe?" He says, reaching out to hold your hand.

You shake your head, chuckling to yourself as you rubbed your eyes. "It's silly."

"Nothing's silly if it's making my (y/n) cry." He assures, voice filled with concern as he pulls up by the park you two happened to share your first kiss at.

As you catch sight of the benches and tree lined pathways, all the tears you had been holding suddenly start to fall.

Steve is quick to wrap an arm around you, brushing your hair out of your face as he rubbed your back soothingly, whispering comforting words into your ears.

You take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

"You ready to talk now, love?" Steve asks, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

"It's just," you start, taking in another breath before letting out a sigh. "I just feel like everything's going by so quickly, I mean, last time I checked we were just dumb teens doing whatever the hell we wanted just for the fun of it but, but now we're graduating, Steve." You lock your eyes with his.

"And, I don't know, it's like, poof! We're adults now, here are all your responsibilities, say bye bye to your childhood now!" You gesture animatedly as you let your words ooze with sarcasm.

Steve chuckled lightly at your words. "Well, that's the way the world works, honey, we're kids, we do stupid things and we learn our lessons, then boom, we're adults. I understand that it's a little scary, but I know that you," He cups both your cheeks with one hand, squeezing them together gently, causing your lips to pout like fish, to which you furrowed your brows at. "Are the most capable person I know, and you've got whatever it is life wants to throw at you." He gives your cheeks one last squeeze before kissing your cheek.

"I guess, but I can't help but think about how much I'm going to miss this place." You say, voice barely above a whisper. "We've spent our entire lives here, this place is our comfort zone, now we're just expected to leave it just like that?"

"I get what you mean," He tucks a stray hair behind your ear. "But y'know what they say, you gotta get out of your comfort zone every once in a while."

You roll your eyes playfully, scoffing at his 'sage advice' that you swore you saw on a bulletin board in your middle school classroom. "Thanks for the advice."

He snickers, running a hand through his hair before holding his hands up. "No but seriously, the world is so much bigger than you think, and I get that Hawkins means a lot to you, it's your home, but as they say: home is where the heart is. Home can be a place or a person, so long as you feel safe and loved--that, that right there is home."

You look at him with nothing but absolute, unconditional love in your eyes, intertwining your hands with his. He gives your hand a little squeeze before kissing your knuckles.

"Everything's going to be okay, okay?" He says in between kisses as he kisses up your arm like they did in cartoons.

You giggle when he reaches your shoulders, then your neck.

"Okay."

"You've got nothing to worry about," He kisses you on your right cheek. "Especially when you know you've always got me beside you." He kisses you on your left.

"Forever and ever, babe," He kisses your forehead. "And a little more after that."

He tilts your chin towards him with his thumb and forefinger before kissing you on your lips, and you can't help but smile into the kiss, fully reassured.

Because through thick and thin, through demogorgons and demonic dust clouds, through college life and adulthood, you had your Steve, and he had you.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things

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dizzycloudzzz · 5 months

Text

what about

what about that Christmas movie cliché

you know, "someone receives a visit from three ghosts – of the past, present and future – who will make they reflect on their life"

I'm seriously thinking about Hunter (news? nope) on this, like not thinking that he "deserved" to spend Christmas with anyone (then he runs away ☠️), since it was something that everyone spent with their family and "family" for him is a very complicated subject...

THEN BELOS APPEARS (Hunter got scared thinking he was alive again) AS THE GHOST OF THE PAST

"did you come to spend Christmas with me or something like that?! how does this even work?!"

"definitely no. why would I do that?"

"'cause we're fffff- oh, I think I just learned a lesson."

and in a strange way he teaches that family is not just blood ties or who created you and stuff, so Hunter wonders if he could spend Christmas with Darius, or Camila, or Eda... but he thinks no one would accept him, for some reason, like "the party is already packed, get out"

AND THEN CALEB APPEARS AS THE GHOST OF THE PRESENT, takes Hunter to see each person who Hunter was thinking about, and everyone is like "oh boy, Hunter, yeah... that's a guy of my own heart"

At Gus' house, he was happy to have receive as a gift a pair of walkie-talkies, but then he gets sad because he doesn't have someone else to answer the other walkie-talkie and pretend they weren't next to each other talking through communicators just cause it's much cooler

Willow, the purest angel existing, being charitable and generous and helping everyone and shouting "MERRY CHRISTMAS" even to Boscha, plus trying to occupy her mind from thinking that the person she most wanted to help was isolating himself from everyone and she couldn't do anything about it cause he is also isolating himself from her, I like to think that she sang a very emotional song (like "Where's Gary?", sad SpongeBob vibe) and Hunter cried while watching cause he has a soft spot for musicals and for Willow

cute fact: Luz and Amity were spending Christmas together at the Noceda house, both also worried about Hunter

"... it would be so much cooler if Hunter was here, so I wouldn't have the ugliest sweater..."

["HEY, I SEW IT MYSELF-"

"no one can hear you now, silly"]

"... I know, sweet potato. I wish he were here too... I even bought him a book since he likes science fiction... I just don't know how to give it to him now"

["even Amity misses me? but... I thought no one would remember me... sigh, she'll probably give the gift to Gus instead, it doesn't make any difference"

"you are missing the point. all these people care about you, you are important to them... enjoy their company while you can, the present is just one, go back to them"

"you have no idea how strange it is for me to receive advice from you, but thanks"

"currently, I even have an idea. but you are welcome"

"and now, I... see the ghost of the future or..?"

"yes, go for it"]

Then comes pregnant Evelyn (cause babies are the future and to complete the trio), ghost from the future, predictable

"oh, hey, uh, mrs. Clawthorne..? I... I really don't know what to call you"

"well, not necessarily 'miss', and not necessarily 'Clawthorne'"

THEN

The ghost of the future begins to change shape into several people: Eberwolf, Steve, Chief O'Bailey, King, EVEN FLAPJACK

And then becomes at various stages of Hunter's life, like he as a child or as Golden freaking Guard

The ghost stop changing forms after turning into Hunter, the current and unique Hunter, as if they were a mirror of each other

Now Hunter (ghost) is staring Hunter (grimwalker)

And Hunter (grimwalker) has a click, almost letting out a "good one!!!" when he understood

"ooooh... I think I understand the metaphor... cause 'the future can be whatever I want even if the past was not'?"

"yup"

"depending on my choices, right?"

"yup"

"so I should... go back and stay with everyone I love and love me either?"

"if u are ready, don't waste time"

"and then I should ask Willow out?!"

"your words, not mine... and not cause I'm just a fruit of your subconscious, but cause it was literally you who said that"

and Hunter rushes to live his happy life, attending each Christmas parties before reuniting everyone for a MUSICAL FINALE

why not

the end 💛

#toh #the owl house #hunter toh #hunter noceda #hunter deamonne #hunter wittebane #simply Hunter #he is the protagonist of my life #cliche #almost christmas #everyone went back to the Boiling Isles and the poor boy didn't know where to go #that classic Christmas movie #huntlow

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izzy-b-hands · 2 years

Text

Ngl I'm stoned and this is a lil dumb, but hopefully there's enough silly funny bits to make up for it lol

anyway, in which Calico Jack gets a new ship, and goes shopping for a new crew! Well, poaching, actually. Stealing, really. Not even well, but he's trying.

Steddyhands, but it's not the main focus of this, that is reserved for Jack's Fuckery lmao. NSFW in some bits, but not too graphically. There are some stabbings as well, but it's all one person at least.

---

"Ain't she beautiful?"

Ed nodded. "She is. She's also mine."

Jack did a double take between Ed and the ship. "Nah."

"Yeah? Literally, on the side there: Queen Anne's Revenge. Izzy painted it on; you were with us that day!"

"That could be a typo," Jack protested. "Pirates are not known for spelling accuracy. Besides, I found her fair and square, floatin' along."

"Right, because we meant to go back and get her at some point. I had Izzy put up the 'be right back' sign on the helm, did it fall off?"

Jack frowned. "Might have seen such a sign. Recognized the handwriting."

"And stole my ship anyway?"

"Look, if you don't want your shit stolen, then don't make it so stealable," Jack muttered. "Besides, would you rather anyone else have her?"

Ed shrugged. "Fair point. You said you've got a new crew?"

Jack led him further down the beach, back towards everyone else laying out on the sand. "Well, not yet. Actually, that's why I was so glad to see you guys! How would you feel about a mutiny, and then you all come join me, and we sell Steve?"

Ed groaned. "Seriously? I screamed in your fucking face that Stede-"

"Steve?"

"No, Stede!"

"Who? We're talkin' about Steve, right?"

Ed dropped onto the sand mid-step. "I can't tell if you're fucking with me and trying to be funny, or if you honestly think we have a Steve and Stede onboard."

"Look, you wanted change, right? What better change than a little demotion? I captain, you can be first mate for me, and we'll sell Izzy and Steve."

Ed stood up with a start. "Hang the fuck on. You want to demote me to the arguably much shittier job of first mate, and you want to sell off my boyfriends?"

Jack raised a brow. "Oh. Both of 'em, huh? You always did like a challenge. Or you wouldn't have ever fucked me, right?"

"You're not really answering the question."

Jack threw up his hands. "Fine. We'll do this the hard way. I'll convince your crew to join me, then we'll sell you, Izzy, and Stede."

"Hey! You got it right!" Ed smiled. "But also if you do actually try and poach our crew, I'll do whatever I have to do to stop you, Jack. I don't want to, but I will."

Jack laughed. "Okay, you do that. You maim me or beat me to a pulp, big scary Blackbeard!"

Ed giggled. "I will! You're not nearly as good a friend as you were before too so I mean, maybe consider that. Kind of already upset with you! Won't take much more to really piss me off!"

Jack stepped closer. "I'd like to see you like that. Pissed off, ready to rip me apart. Bet you still couldn't."

"Jack-"

"I need a crew. Yours sucks, but I'm not in a place to be picky. Whoever doesn't agree with me can go in a cage with you and your boys, and we'll buy something nice for the ship with whatever we get for all of you."

Ed frowned. "Not that badly decorated, is she? I know Izzy said I've got too many skulls around-"

"It is a lot of skulls," Jack interrupted. "But nah, it ain't that bad. No, I just think it'll piss you off knowing I'm using that money to redecorate your quarters. My quarters, now."

"Everyone warned me that I wouldn't want you as an ex," Ed sighed. "Think I understand that now."

"I got a reputation to uphold," Jack grinned. "Anyway, don't mind me skulking around chatting up your crew. You can't stop me, nothing wrong with talkin' to people!"

Ed nodded as he watched Jack walk off, whistling as he kicked up sand. He needed to talk to Stede, ASAP.

"Izzy!"

"Jesus fucking chr-the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Izzy nearly dropped the wooden box of marmalade jars he was hauling from the Revenge's galley at Jack's appearance, though that was bullshit in and of itself. He had told Ed and Stede they'd inevitably want more than the few jars they'd grabbed so why not take more right away? But no, they were stubborn and didn't and now he couldn't leave them sans marmalade, that would be cruel-

"You keepin' the wives happy?" Jack's fingertip slide across the edge of the box. "Please tell me this isn't what y'all use for lube."

"Who the fuck would do that?" Izzy scoffed, then remembered who he was talking with. "Christ, no, they've just got a slight addiction to this with toast. Speaking of, I'm expected back."

Jack's hand slapped flat on the front of the box. "They can wait a little longer."

Izzy rolled his eyes. "I appreciate the intimidation tactic, but those two will come looking shortly, and they're hungry on top of it all. That is actually intimidating, so if you'll kindly get the fuck out of my way."

"Izzy," Jack hissed, leaning forward. "We could be so good together."

"I don't know if this is a come on or an attempt to make me join you as crew, but I'm not interested in either," Izzy said as he shifted the box onto his hip. "I only need the one hand free to stab you, Jack. I would love the opportunity. If you don't move now, then I'll take it."

Jack clucked his tongue. "Thought you'd be an easier target than this."

"Hm."

"Don't really know what to do now," Jack admitted. "It wasn't a come on, but, since we're alone here on this nice big ship..."

Izzy blinked. "Right. You do whatever you feel you need to; I'll go let Roach know we'll need to deep clean this area, and bring the boys their marmalade before they riot."

"Izzy, come on. You seriously don't want a chance at something new? Something more?"

Izzy scoffed. "As if you'd have me as first mate. No, I'm sure you'd take the first chance to kill, maroon, or sell me off. I'm not an idiot, Jack. Here's what you should know from here on out-"

With the box still balanced on one hip, he pulled a knife from his belt. "I am very happy with the current situation. Believe me, it surprised me at first too-"

"You are a miserable bastard," Jack interrupted with a chuckle.

Izzy nodded, then stabbed the knife into Jack's abdomen.

"Well then," Jack panted. "You meant it, with the stabbing."

"In all the years I've had to trail after you and Edward, making sure neither of you wandered drunk into the sea, have I ever lied to you about all the harm I'd like to do to you?"

Jack nodded. "You have threatened me a lot over the years!"

Izzy smirked. "And you didn't listen to a word of it. Now, I'm taking my knife back, and I'm getting this marmalade to the boys. And if you try to poach anyone else off this crew, so help me I will stab you until there's nothing solid enough left to stab."

He yanked his knife from Jack's flesh, and strode out. Thankfully, he hadn't gotten any blood on the box or any of the jars.

"Sup?"

Roach stared into the trees, specifically eyeballing the one he was pissing closest to. "Sorry?"

"Not bad," Jack popped out from behind one of the trees. "Your dick, I mean. Was flippin' through that book Steve has, what's-his-name did a good job drawing yours."

Roach finished and put himself away while pondering a response. "His name is Lucius, and it's Stede, not Steve-"

"Who is?"

Roach shook his head. "Forget it. Thanks, I guess. About my...yeah. I'm gonna head back to the crew, if you want to j-"

"Join! Me, no! But you, could join me, yes!" Jack grinned.

"Was your goal to make a pitch using the fewest words possible?" Roach asked. "Because you did it, but it was weird. Weird for you, which I think is an important distinction."

"So, you'll be my chef?"

"No! Nothing I said was anything about doing that!"

Jack frowned. "Shame. Your cooking is amazing."

At that, Roach couldn't hold back a smile. It was at least partially just Jack trying to butter him up, but fuck it, it was still complimentary enough.

"Would love to have that sort of fine work onboard the Quee-uh, the King Jack's... Revenge..Revenger."

Roach nodded. "Very sweet of you, but I'm good where I am. The offer to join us for a midnight snack still stands though; we're making s'mores!"

He peered down Jack's front. "Is that blood?"

"Just a little bit, Izzy didn't like being asked to join me, and boy howdy did he let me know! He's a scrappy lil guy, huh?"

Roach smirked. "What if I tell him that I met you out here?"

The color drained from Jack's face, though that might have been the stab wound as much as anything else. "No, you don't have to-why would he even want to know that, I mean...ah fuck it, you ain't worth it! I'll find a better chef!"

Jack went crashing off into the trees, with a final bird flipped to Roach as he went.

"This is why we need piss break buddies," Roach muttered to himself. "Everyone thinks it's 'oh Roach is afraid of the dark', but no, it's weird shit like this! That's what we need someone with for!"

He made a mental note to tell Izzy about the encounter first thing when he got back. He had a feeling he would burn hot enough they could heat the s'mores over him instead of the fire.

"No."

"I didn't even say anything yet," Jack chuckled. "C'mon Jim. You and I haven't even spent any time together, and I bet you're jealous of the rest of them over it."

"Could you fuck off?" Jim asked sharply. "Even if I wasn't in the middle of this, the answer would still be no. Roach warned us you were hiding out and doing this."

Olu lifted his head from between Jim's thighs. "Seriously! You are really fucking distracting, and this is fucking rude! Would you storm into someone's bedroom while they were fucking and ask them to join your crew?"

"Have done that once before, actually," Jack said as he sat down by Jim's head. "Don't let me interrupt."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Jim shouted, and a startled cry went up from the campsite near the beach.

"Damn it," Jack hissed. "Thanks a lot; if Izzy stabs me again it is your fucking fault!"

Jim glared, held out their hand for a knife, and jabbed the one Olu handed them into Jack's arm.

"Now that's unnecessary," Jack scoffed. He yanked the knife out, then stood and darted back into the trees, just as Izzy and Roach came crashing into the clearing.

"He's gone already," Roach sighed. "Fuck."

"You know the ship would be more comfortable than here," Izzy commented to Jim.

Jim handed the blooded knife back to Olu, and tossed an arm over their eyes. "Yes. Yes it would be. But we thought we'd have more privacy in the fucking jungle! Than anywhere else! And we were wrong!"

"We'll go," Roach said gently, tugging Izzy by the elbow. "Sorry about all of this."

"Right, we'll get him the next time," Izzy nodded.

"Sure, great, thank you!" Olu shouted as they crashed back through the brush. "Should we try the ship instead?"

"Nah, at least they know which area to avoid now. Not exactly privacy, but I'll take it," Jim sighed. "You still good down there?"

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"So, we aren't hunting Jack down to kill him, in theory," Ed said. "Just to make him fuck off, or chill the fuck out and stop bothering everyone about joining his crew on my ship. That he stole."

"Yeah, you keep mentioning that," Frenchie noted.

"Yeah, well, it was a really dick move," Ed said. "So I think it bears repeating."

"The goal is to talk to him," Stede added. "If you feel you will be moved only to violence instead of words, then please come get one of us. That way we can try the talking bit, and if it doesn't work we always have violence as a solid back up plan."

"A note on that," Izzy said. "Do not get me for the talking bit, only Ed or Stede. I am on the side of violence first, so if you want help in any violence against him, that's when you find me."

Stede smiled and clapped his hands together. "Perfect! Everything crystal clear, we all have snacks and water... let's get going!"

Before anyone could take a step, Jack forced himself through a small gap between two trees near their camp. "Ah ha! Thought you'd- ouch, fuck-seen the last of old...hang on, fuckin' coat is stuck...there, the last of old Calico Jack?! Well, here I am!"

He was covered in dirt, blood, hair greasy and a mess. At some point he'd managed to lose both his boots but gained a new one that was nothing like his original pair.

"Okay, that makes things easier!" Stede said. "We need you to stop this, Jack. You're a sensible... well. You're a man who understands...no. You...if someone went around poaching your crew, if you had one, that would bother you, yes?"

Jack nodded.

"Well, that's our issue," Stede continued. "I respect and understand you want a crew of your own again. However, and I will speak plainly: you're a fucking menace. And if you think you should be scared of Izzy over this, then you're both right and wrong. Right, because he does want to stab you again, but wrong, because if you keep trying to steal my crew, I'll gouge your fucking eyes out with my bare hands. Ed taught me how to do that a few weeks ago, and I could use the practice!"

Dead silence.

Then, Ed, softly.

"Jack. I need to take Stede back to the ship, immediately. I'm going to give you two minutes to make it back to my ship that I'm going to let you keep borrowing-"

"Come on," Jack interrupted. "Just face it; I stole her fair and square! Also, weird seeing you hard in those pants when I'm not the one causing it. Kinda hate it, actually."

Ed glared at him. "As I was saying. You may continue to borrow my ship for now. You have two minutes to return to it before the crew gets to chase after you. Ship is safe, but if you have even a toe off it-"

He shrugged. "I would make sure I'm on the ship by then. Were it me."

"I hate how hot it is when you talk like that," Jack chuckled. Then, with a tired sigh, he burst into a sprint towards the Queen Anne's Revenge.

"Are you actually gonna send us after him?" Wee John asked. "Seems a waste of time."

"Can if you want, but he's always been a spry fucker. He'll probably be onboard and below deck before we know it," Ed replied. "But I do need to get Stede back to the ship-"

"Yeah, yeah, you wanna fuck his brains out for the eye gouging threat," Jim laughed. "We know; you aren't subtle."

Ed nodded. "So Stede, Izzy, and I will be busy for the rest of the night. You all...do whatever you want. Come back onboard, spend the night camping out here, whatever makes you happiest. If Jack bothers you-"

"Threaten to stab him," came the crew's chorus.

On the Queen Anne's Revenge, Jack bandaged his wounds. Maybe having his own ship again wasn't the right thing, right now.

At the sound of distant moaning, he looked out from his quarters with his spyglass. There, in the window of the Revenge's main quarters, he could see Ed and Stede and Izzy and shedding clothes...

He set the spyglass down after a moment, and pondered if they needed anyone in a role like that. To bring water, snacks, clean towels, more lube, etc.

He decided he'd start asking around with the crew in the morning.

#text post #ofmd fic #i love jack in a weird way where I just want to give him problems but also make him cause problems on purpose #i also love him and ed in this post we gull way back space of very upset still but yet shared history #and probably some left over caring and it's all a big messy tangle in both their minds #and it leads to weird shit like this lmaooo #steddyhands #ship isn't the main feature but wanted to tag so folks can filter out if needed since it does come up in this

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