#i too would shoot my shot with steve harrington
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𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔
"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.9k words
warnings: explicit language, (slight) jealous!steve, brief mention of blood/injury (reader has a lil fall)
summary: in which everything has changed for steve after that night at the bar and morning in your bed, but he hasn’t admitted that to you yet. being honest is much harder than he thought it would be and no moment feels completely right, so he continues to pretend that nothing has changed. but, a day at the park playing basketball with you makes it feel a thousand times harder to keep the secret
author's note: the slow burn will end one day (eventually) (i promise) i just love dragging things out for absolutely no reason<3 (i’m sorry!)<333 anyways enjoy this very slight jealous!steve moment! he’s a bit of an asshole in this but also like not really and it’s only kinda for a second
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Winter 1986
It actually wasn’t all that surprising when Steve asked you to go to the park— that Saturday marked the first slightly warm day in months.
And maybe saying that he “asked you” was a bit of a stretch because this felt more like a hostage situation; one that you technically orchestrated since, as one of his Christmas presents, you promised that you would play basketball with him one time. And today, on one of the first few days of March, he decided to drag you out of the apartment and to the park that was a quick drive away and had semi-nice basketball courts.
You changed out of your typical Saturday attire, which simply consisted of a hoodie and shorts, and into a cream-colored t-shirt that said, “Sports Suck. And you do too” in black lettering, Steve got it for you for your birthday, and it felt almost too fitting for this moment. You also had on a pair of black athletic shorts that had been your usual attire during high school gym class.
“You’re the only person that I would ever subject myself to doing this for,” You said to Steve as you stepped out of his car and grabbed the basketball that had been sitting at your sneaker covered feet during the drive. “So, I hope you understand how huge of a deal this is.”
Steve laughed a bit. “I know, and I feel honored that you’re risking your life by doing this for me right now.”
“You say that jokingly, but I brought a first aid kit just in case this ends badly,” You said and handed the basketball over to him. “So, what’s first? A riveting round of HORSE?”
“Before we play any games, and I beat you at all of them, let’s just shoot around for a bit so you can get used to it. Was the last time you played basketball really at my eleventh birthday party?” He asked, shooting the ball from a little bit in front of the three-point line as he spoke and making it almost too effortlessly.
You grabbed the ball as it bounced on the court and then took a shot. You were standing much closer to the basket than Steve had been but still missed.
“If that didn’t just answer your question, yes, your birthday party was the last time I even thought about playing. I actually think it was that day that made me realize I should stay away from all sports.”
“You hadn’t been that bad back then.”
You gave him a look. “Steve, I hit your grandma with a basketball. I missed a shot so bad that it hit her.”
It was that day that you were banned from using the basketball hoop in Steve’s backyard, rightfully so.
“Okay, yeah, but she was fine and forgave you immediately. And even made sure you got an extra piece of cake when you started crying because of how bad you felt,” He said, tossing the ball to you so that you could try another shot.
“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m horrible at this,” You said before taking a breath and shooting the ball. You missed again, but it at least hit the rim that time.
“That’s progress,” Steve said and gave you an encouraging smile.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Exactly twenty-three minutes had passed, and the only reason that you were keeping close track of the time was because when Steve had dragged you out of the apartment, you told him that you’d only be playing for an hour; unless you somehow turned into a prodigy.
You had lost count of how many times you shot the basketball, but you knew that the number of times you successfully made a basket was four. It was an embarrassingly low number, and you definitely were not a prodigy, but each time you surprisingly made a shot, you’d gasp in shock and Steve would whoop happily and give you an enthusiastic high five while saying that the pointers he was giving you were working. You weren’t entirely sure that was true— and it wasn’t because he was a bad teacher, you were just a bad student. You were certain that each shot you made was based on pure luck and simple probability; if you kept shooting the ball, you’d eventually end up making something.
And when you told Steve exactly that, he only shook his head at you. “No, you made those four shots because you’re good.”
How happy and positive he was being about this entire thing was the only thing that made it bearable.
You laughed a bit. “I love you and your encouragement, but that is such an overstatement.”
“For someone that hasn’t even touched a basketball in eight years, you are good.”
“Thank you,” You said with an amused smile on your face instead of rebutting his statement. “I’ll make sure to try out for the local rec team when the time comes.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll coach you to help you prepare,” Steve said jokingly, and you only laughed in response.
You were about to ask him to toss you the ball, but a group of guys walking past you two, probably headed to the empty hoop on the other side of the court, caught your attention for a second instead. There were four of them and one smiled at you as he passed by you and Steve and he was kind of cute so you smiled back.
You were completely unaware, but there was something about that smile you gave the guy that made Steve have to look away from the entire nonverbal interaction and focus on the basketball in his hand instead. All too quickly he wanted to blurt it all out, everything that had hit him so abruptly that morning in your bed barely two weeks ago.
I love you. I’m in love with you.
For the most part, that thought was the only thing that consumed his mind these days, especially when you two were together; which of course was way more often than not.
There had probably been at least a hundred moments where he almost accidentally let it slip. Hours after it all had hit him, you two were sitting on the couch mindlessly watching some random sitcom and you leaned your head on his shoulder and he was so close to simply whispering it to you. And then when you two were in your Film and TV history class that Tuesday and writing unserious notes back and forth to one another in the margins of his notebook, he wanted to just write the five words down and slide the notebook back over to you. And just last night when you two were driving to the movie theater to see something with Robin and Eddie, he felt the urge to say it when a stupid love song that felt as if it cheesily summed up exactly how he was feeling came on the radio.
However, he would always bite his tongue right before he told you because he was waiting for that perfect moment to be honest with you, and nothing felt entirely right just yet. And it especially didn’t feel like a good time in this moment where you were smiling at some guy that wasn’t him and a certain feeling that could only be deemed as jealousy sat in the pit of his stomach.
Steve cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him and then he tossed the ball to you. “Your turn.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The first round of HORSE was started and finished barely fifteen minutes later, quickly ending with Steve winning. Even though you could tell that he was going very easy on you and trying to let you win, you still somehow managed to lose.
“This loss feels so much more embarrassing knowing that you were trying to let me win,” You had said after you missed your shot and got an “E.”
“I wasn’t,” Steve told you with a shake of his head and you only gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him.
You reached down to grab the ball and stop it from rolling away, but you somehow tripped over nothing but your own feet and landed hard on the ground.
You yelped as you collided with the concrete. Luckily, you thought fast enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant. “Ouch. Shit.”
Steve was by your side in an instant and started helping you up. “Are you okay?”
You could only shrug in response to his question at first as you stood up with the help of his hand on your arm.
“Okay, just kidding, that moment was a lot more embarrassing than losing the game,” You told him. When you looked down and saw the deep scrape on your knee and the blood already starting to rise from the wound, you immediately had to look away from it. “I put the first aid kit in the backseat.”
“What? You actually brought it? I thought you were joking,” Steve said, keeping an arm around you as he helped you walk over to the car and opened the passenger side door so that you could sit down.
“Of course, I wasn’t joking. It felt inevitable that something like this would happen,” You said as you sat sideways in the passenger seat so that your feet were on the ground, and then you grabbed a couple napkins from the glove compartment to place it on your knee and help stop the bleeding. “Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen in the first five minutes.”
Steve grabbed the first aid kit before kneeling down in front of you and you looked at the four guys down at the end of the court. They were playing a two against two game and the one that smiled at you earlier just made a shot at the three-point line.
You stopped looking at him and instead focused on the top of Steve’s head. “Ugh, I can’t believe I just fell in front of that cute guy.”
“Maybe he didn’t even see,” Steve mumbled with a quick shrug.
“I doubt that,” You said and then sighed. “These last few weeks have been very humbling. First, things immediately going downhill with Jamie, and now this.”
Steve didn’t know how things had ended with Jamie, you had yet to tell him the exact reasoning, but selfishly he had been glad that they did. Although he couldn’t find it in him to tell you the truth just yet, the thought of now having to see you with anyone else annoyed him.
You tapped his shoulder so that he would look up at you. “It would be a bad idea if I went up to him and asked for his number, right?”
“Yeah, it would,” Steve answered, pulling his eyes away from yours and focusing on grabbing something from the first aid kit instead. His words were a lie, for the most part— he personally would’ve thought it was cute if a girl did that to him. He immediately felt like shit for lying to you, but not enough to go back on what he said.
You nodded at his response. “Okay.”
You kept your eyes away from what Steve was doing as he cleaned up your knee, looking up at the sky instead until he was done and placing the large band-aid over it.
“Thanks,” You said and smiled at him.
He looked up at you for a brief moment before standing up and simply giving you a small nod. He went over to grab the basketball, which had rolled into the grass, and then put it in the backseat.
The drive back to the apartment was quiet and it felt more like Steve’s doing than yours. He suddenly seemed distant, maybe even mad at you, and the abrupt shift felt so odd.
You looked over at him. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
It felt pretty clear that he wasn’t fine, though. You could tell that he was annoyed at you for reasons that you couldn’t decipher and that only made you annoyed as well. You didn’t even play with the radio during the drive back to the apartment, you just sat there with your arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window.
You wondered if the prevailing silence bothered him as much as it bothered you, but then that question didn’t even matter because he was pulling into the parking lot of the apartment building and parking in the usual open spot next to your car, and you were unbuckling your seatbelt.
“What happened with you and Jamie?” Steve asked before you could open the door and step out of his car. “You never really talked about it.”
The abruptness of the question surprised you; and it wasn’t even the question itself that was the surprising part, it was more so the timing of it. Was that why he decided to randomly get mad at you? Because you never told him what happened on that dumb date? And why the hell would it even matter at this point?
You weren’t even entirely sure why you hadn’t told Steve the full extent of what happened. When you came back from the date that night, you only said that things had gone badly.
You turned to look at Steve. “He didn’t like you.”
His eyebrows furrowed at that. “What?”
“Well, not you necessarily, but us; our friendship,” You said, looking down at your band-aid-covered knee. “When me and him went on the date, he asked about what my emergency was and why I had to cancel the date the first time, and I told him about your accidental phone call and you being drunk at the bar and me having to go get you, and he didn’t see that as much of an emergency; especially since you had wanted Eddie to pick you up. He thought it was a little weird how easily I canceled plans to go do something for you, and the whole night kind of shifted awkwardly from there.”
You remembered that entire conversation perfectly, and you honestly couldn’t even get that annoyed with Jamie when he said any of that because you didn’t think that your priorities would ever be able to change. Steve would probably always be at the top of your unwritten list, and you had come to the conclusion that whoever else wanted to be in your life would just have to deal with that.
“Oh.”
You looked at him curiously. “What?”
“Nothing,” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
Hearing him say that only confused you. “Sorry for what?”
He was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t know…”
“Is that why you were mad at me just now? Because I didn’t tell you what happened on the date?”
“No, I don’t even know why I brought it up right now, I was just curious,” He said with a shrug before meeting your gaze. “And I’m not mad at you for anything. I promise.”
“Okay…” You said as you found one of his hands and gave it a light squeeze. “So, what’s up with you? Clearly, something’s wrong, right? Is it something with your parents?”
“No, nothing with them,” He responded, which was an answer that only confused you more. It looked like there were a thousand things going through his head right then, and you couldn’t seem to decipher any of it, which felt foreign to you— you were so used to reading him like a book. “It’s just… it’s kind of hard to explain right now.”
If it really had nothing to do with his parents, you were unsure what else it could be and what else would be difficult to talk to you about. In your head, there wasn’t supposed to be anything that you couldn’t talk to each other about; you were best friends for a reason. It was easy to joke around and playfully banter with one another, but it had also always been easy to have the types of deep and honest conversations that neither of you would ever have with anyone else.
You decided not to push him further in this moment, though. Whatever was going on with him, you knew that he’d tell you eventually.
“It’s okay. Tell me whenever you want to,” You said softly and then decided to say your next words jokingly to shift the mood a bit. “But stop being weird about whatever it is, or I will think that you hate me or something.”
Steve only shook his head at your words at first. “I could never hate you.”
Maybe that was when you should’ve seen it, when you should’ve realized how he felt about you. There was something about the way he said his short statement— so certainly, so truthfully— that should’ve made you connect all of the dots. But, that was the last possible thing on your mind. You would’ve thought that he wanted to move out of the apartment for some random reason before you even considered thinking that he had any sort of romantic feelings toward you. You two had been friends for forever so that just didn’t sound like a plausible thought.
Therefore, instead of any sort of “aha!” moment hitting you right then, you smiled playfully at Steve and said, “Good.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem!reader#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington series
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Part 2 now here
Okay to expand on this I just think: Steve who’s been in a couple of tv shows and is having a moment, famous offscreen for his hair and his charm and onscreen for his ability to find chemistry with anyone (and also, again, his hair).
And Eddie who is a complete unknown; he’s been in some stage productions and had the tiniest bit parts on TV but nobody’s ever, like, recognized him on the street.
Eddie auditions for a new HBO show. When his agent tells him that Steve Harrington is already attached Eddie is like cool, I’ll never get this part but the audition will be good practice so why not. They’re never gonna cast him. He’s sure he’s playing it too weird, and he hasn’t cut his hair (but he will when a part needs him to) but then he gets a callback. Twice.
And then he’s getting called in to do a chemistry test with some of the other actors. The show is like a modern Freaks and Geeks but with a slow burn murder mystery, and Eddie’s actually dead in the main timeline but about half the show is told in flashbacks so it’s a big part. When he meets Steve he doesn’t know what he’s expecting from the paparazzi darling but the guy is super genuine, makes Eddie feel way more comfortable than he has so far. They do their read together and Eddie is just thinking to himself like… damn, this guy really is good, because that felt crazy. He’s acted opposite some insanely talented people but it’s never been that easy. That must just be what it’s like working with Steve.
And now it’s dangerous because he really wants the part. He wants to stop bartending to make rent. He wants to be on this show, because the pages he’s seen are good, and he thinks he could really bring something to it. And because he wants to work with Steve. And even the rest of the cast, too, but—
The day Eddie gets the part he gets a text from a number he doesn't know. Hey man, really looking forward to working with you. And then, a few minutes later, It's Steve btw. He's smiling down at his phone so much that his agent, whose office he's in, is like "What, did you just score another life-changing opportunity I don't know about?" And Eddie is like "Nope, just the one, uh—it's just my uncle saying congrats. Anyway—"
They don't make him cut his hair. They don't tell him to stop playing it so weird. Everything goes so well that it feels fucking hard to believe, in fact, like he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's one group of them playing seniors in high school, the main foursome of which is Eddie, Steve, and their two girl costars, Nancy and Robin. And then there's a younger group playing freshmen whose story intersects with theirs.
His and Steve's characters are set up as opposites, almost rivals, and at least at first, you're presumably supposed to wonder if it's Steve's rich, popular guy who's killed Eddie's character. Nobody in the cast knows the truth yet; the scripts get revealed to them as they're shooting them and they've been told the murderer won't even be revealed in the first season (so here's hoping they get renewed, because Eddie would really like to know who killed him—and he'd also like to keep making HBO money).
Their scenes are some of Eddie's favorites to film (although he also has a soft spot for the kids—especially Dustin who plays a hilarious and awesome nerd who does D&D with Eddie's DM). Eddie hopes his and Steve's stuff is working on whatever level they ultimately need it to work on—sometimes they do get notes that tell them to pull back or dig into something, to emphasize something else, so he has to trust that they're doing the right things.
They often film out of order so when they eventually film the scene where Eddie and Steve's characters have their first run-in at school, it's far from the first time they've shot together. They get all up in each other's faces in the scene, and they've run the lines, done a table read, but acting it out at full intensity is. A lot. Steve's character is mad because he thinks Eddie's character is trying to steal his girlfriend (really she was just buying drugs from him). The way Steve plays it is all simmering intensity, the threat of violence just under the surface, and this is where Eddie doesn't know if he's reading something into it that isn't there. Because for him, there's also another kind of tension between them. And he doesn't know if it's his real life bleeding into the character; if it's just how Steve can't help being with everyone; or if it's a legitimate part of the scripts that they're supposed to be picking up on and exploring. He doesn't even know if anybody else sees what he does. But they do their takes; nobody tells him he's doing something wrong. And after the director calls cut the first time, Steve winks at him. Just to cut the tension, Eddie thinks, maybe to make him smile, which it does. It's fun watching Steve work, watching him slip into and out of character. He's really easy to work with.
Sometimes they get together to run lines or talk motivation or whatever. “It's crazy, you know," Eddie tells Steve in his trailer one night. Steve's is bigger so all of them usually hang out here. They've been making each other laugh, shooting the shit about increasingly funny backstories for their characters, and Eddie feels high with it. "I mean, you know this is my first real show. It's like—" he gestures between them, trying to encompass everything that happens on-camera and all the fun of working on that off-camera. "I didn't know it would be like this."
"Oh—yeah, man," Steve says and laughs a little self-deprecatingly, running a hand through his hair. "But, I mean, for me, I've done a couple and, with our stuff—it’s never been like this with anyone else, either.”
It's going to be so hard, Eddie thinks, looking back at him, to not read into that more than he should.
#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#actors au#if you have a good idea for their names on the show please speak right up i'm not sure what i'm feeling#would love to connect it to st somehow
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Can just picture Eddie posting videos from back in the 80’s and everyone going so wild thirsting for Steve that Eddie starts feeling some type of way even though that’s his husband lol
Eddie has never been insecure about his relationship.
Don’t get him wrong though.
It is annoying when you’re closeted in your hometown and have to watch girl after girl shoot their shot with your boyfriend. It is irritating when you take your boyfriend to his first gay club and every five minutes someone tries to interrupt you dancing with him to try to grind on your boyfriend. It is borderline rude when you’re married and on a date, and your waiter tries to slip your husband her phone number.
Eddie gets it – Steve is too hot for his own good – but he isn’t insecure.
He bagged Hawkins’ most eligible bachelor right after the worst week of his entire goddamn existence. Steve had a front row seat to a lot of his lowest of lows and still made out with him. Eddie had been happy to just fool around with his old high school crush but then Steve had to go pull the rug out front under him and get disowned for telling his parents that he was in love with him.
So, yeah.
There are always people thirsting after Steve but Steve Harrington wears his love so completely and openly in every ounce of his being that Eddie has never had any doubt who it’s directed towards. He is not insecure.
However.
Some of these people need to calm the fuck down.
Eddie posts a clip of Steve and Dustin bickering at each other from an old home video that he must’ve borrowed from Jonathan and forgot to give back. It from before Eddie’s time with the party.
The greater context of the video is that someone was throwing a going away party for Dustin before he left for summer camp, but it’s very clear that Steve did not know this when he walks into the house. He very clearly showed up post-workout.
In the clip, Steve is complaining about Dustin not telling him about the party and Dustin is telling him that he did tell him (“That’s not true. I told you to come here at six and bring me my flashlight. What else would I have meant?”). Eddie captioned it something like, “Some things never change.”
It’s a pretty innocuous video about two brothers giving each other a hard time but then if you read the comments, you will feel the need to go to church and repent. All the comments are about Steve’s spandex-y workout shorts. All the stitches are people trying to enhance screenshots of the video to see the outline of Steve’s dick, and really it’s – “Jesus H. Christ.”
Eddie ends up deleting the video because, “He’s seventeen in it, sickos.”
#most of the time someone will say something particularly thirsty about Steve and Eddie will be like: mood#someone in the comments of a live stream said they wanted to get dicked down by Steve and Eddie’s like ‘me too’ and ends the stream#eddie munson tiktok saga#eddie munson#steve harrington
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I'm taking a break from my regularly scheduled WIP to bring you this Scoops Ahoy AU one-shot. It's a long one.
Eddie was about to enter Scoops Ahoy when he saw Steve in front of the counter, his back to him. He was in full uniform, hat on top and all. He was practicing drawing his scoop like he was a cowboy. Eddie's eyes wondered over his backside, giggling at Steve being a dork, and his heart was beating rapidly. Yeah, he liked that a lot, especially the legs attached to the ass. Steve twirled around and smiled at Eddie. He drew his scoop and pretended to shoot him. Eddie clutched his chest and dropped to the floor. He heard Steve’s laughter ring out, and it was the best thing in the world. Shit. He liked Steve Harrington. Eddie jumped up and took off, barely listening to Steve screaming behind him.
"It was just an ice cream scoop!"
Eddie ran all the way out into the parking lot and jumped into his van. He turned it on and thought about where he wanted to go, and then he cursed. Shit, he was supposed to meet Jeff here for a movie. He turned off his van and jumped when someone knocked on his window. He yelped when he saw that it was Steve Harrington. Eddie looked at him wearily before rolling down his window.
"Making special deliveries now, Cap?" Eddie asked, hoping he was actually as calm as he thought he was being.
"Only for people who drop their wallets," Steve grinned, holding up his wallet.
Eddie squeaked and went to grab it, but Steve pulled it back with a grin.
"Never took you for a bully, Harrington," Eddie smirked.
"Seriously?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, a little bitchy? Yes. Bully? No. Not even you would do that. Too busy hiding secrets in that hair of yours," he said, his eyes twinkling.
"Oh. And what secrets are hiding in your hair, Munson?" Steve asked, leaning on the frame.
Eddie trailed his fingers across Steve’s arm. Shit, was he really flirting with him?
"How about you climb into the back of my van and find out?" Eddie asked.
He surprised both of them with that question. He didn't think that he would be so forward. Steve grinned.
"Okay, but I only have fifteen minutes," Steve said he set his watch.
Steve started walking around to the other side, and Eddie quickly scrambled into the back. He flopped onto his back and onto the blanket he kept in the van. Steve opened the door, crawled into the van, and closed the door behind him, lying down beside Eddie.
"So, I have to ask," Steve said, leaning on his elbow. "Why did you run away when I shot you with my ice cream scoop?"
"Uh, there was a bee. A really big bee," Eddie said.
"A big bee, huh?" Steve asked.
"Yeah. I, uh, I really didn't think I ever liked bees before, but I saw this bee, and it was actually kind of cute. A cute dorky bee," Eddie said. "It scared me how much I liked this bee."
"So, was this bee blue, white, and red?" Steve grinned.
"Hmm, you cracked my code," Eddie said. "Damn."
"So is it the fact that I'm a jock or the fact that I'm a guy?" He asked.
"I've always liked women, and I never even questioned it even when other people assumed it about me," Eddie said. "And they always did."
"Funny, people always assumed I was straight even though I wanted them to think otherwise," Steve said.
"I'm obvious. You're not," Eddie grinned.
Steve laughed and placed his hand on his chest, dragging his nails gently across his chest.
"So, you really didn't think I was an asshole in high school?" Steve asked.
"No, mostly because I know how much you tried to stop the basketball players from beating the shit out of us," Eddie said. "Even Tommy Hagan was harmless. He was all talk and too much of a chicken shit to actually do anything about it. Plus, Gareth told me all about how you once stopped Tommy Hayes from beating the shit out of him."
"I fucking hate that guy, him and Jason Carver both. I tried to go to Principal Higgins about it, but he seemed like he was really out to get you. I don't what the fuck that guy's problem with you is but I kind of wanted to kick his ass," Steve scoffed.
"There's a picture," Eddie grinned. "So, did you always know you liked guys? I mean, I should have known at some point, right?"
"I don't think that you can put an exact time frame on something like this, especially since it's different for everyone. I was reading a parenting book, and it suggested that you shouldn't compare your child with other children because they grow and develop at like different rates," Steve said. "I figure that probably works the same with sexuality too."
"Why were you reading a parenting book?" Eddie asked.
"Oh, these kids that I babysit have been having nightmares, and I've been trying to figure out the best way to help them," Steve said.
Eddie pinned him down and climbed on top of him. Steve looked at him in surprise.
"You're the fucking cutest," Eddie said.
He leaned down and kissed him. Eddie mewed softly against his mouth when Steve kissed him back and grabbed the back of his head. His other hand was pressed against Eddie's lower back. Eddie kissed him roughly, rocking his hips against his. He liked the feeling of Steve’s lips against his and the way his hands felt in his hair. He definitely liked the way his hand felt against his backside. His entire body was buzzing. Eddie reached behind him to grab Steve’s hand and moved it so it was cupping his butt. Steve chuckled against his mouth. Suddenly, the van door flew open, causing them to break the kiss. Jeff stood there, staring at the scene with wide eyes.
"Hey, man," Eddie said casually as he continued to straddle Steve Harrington.
He couldn't explain this one away, considering Steve’s hand was on his ass.
"What?!" Jeff exclaimed.
"This is exactly what it looks like," Eddie said.
"I didn't know that you were into guys," Jeff said, looking at them both.
"Is this going to be a problem?" Steve asked with wide eyes, and Jeff laughed.
"No, man, I'm gay," Jeff said, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief.
"You didn't know I was into guys?" Eddie asked with a scoff. "I didn't know I was into guys."
"So, new discovery then?" Jeff asked, and Eddie nodded. "Want me to close the door?"
Jeff wiggled his eyebrows at Eddie. He was about to reply when Steve’s watch went off. Eddie frowned.
"Damn it!" Steve cursed. "I have to get back to work."
"We were making out longer than we thought," Eddie said with grin. "Can we do this again?"
"Yeah, you got a pen?" Steve asked.
Eddie dove towards the front of his van, grabbing a pen out of a cup holder. Steve whistled at his ass and Eddie cackled as he turned around, handing Steve the pen. Steve grabbed his arm and began writing numbers into Eddie's skin. Once he was finished, he bent down and blew on the ink to let it dry, looking directly at Eddie while he did it. Eddie shuddered as his breath hit his skin.
"Call me," Steve winked and hopped out of the van. "See you . . .?"
"Jeff," he replied.
"Jeff," Steve said, nodding at him and walking off.
"Wait, my wallet!" Eddie exclaimed.
"Check your back pocket!" Steve yelled.
Eddie frowned and checked his back pocket. Sure enough, his wallet was there.
"You sexy magician," Eddie muttered.
"Dude, that thing with the number was insanely hot," Jeff said. "Are you going to be able to concentrate on the movie?"
"I'm going to do something to screw this up. I know it!" Eddie exclaimed and buried his head into the blanket.
A couple of weeks later, and so far, Eddie hadn't screwed anything up. It was going well for him and Steve. He had called Steve that very same night, and they had talked for an hour before agreeing to meet at Steve's house for their first date. The asshole had cooked him dinner and everything. Eddie had insisted on cleaning the dishes with Steve, which had turned into them splashing soapy water at each other. After that, they sprawled onto the couch to watch TV, which had turned into a heavy makeout session that had Eddie losing his shirt and Steve nibbling on his tattoos. According to Steve, they're hot. Now, here he was bouncing into Scoops Ahoy to visit Steve. Steve’s co-worker, Robin, rolled her eyes at him.
"Hey, Stevie, is it your breaktime yet?" Eddie grinned.
"Yes, and for the love of God, do your little drug deal in the storage closet," Robin said. "If you must."
Steve grinned as he pulled Eddie into the break room and then into the storage closet, turning the lock.
"She thinks I'm selling you drugs," Eddie laughed as Steve pushed him up against the wall.
"Yeah, I got you something," Steve smiled and started digging around in his pockets.
"Yeah, you do," Eddie wiggled his eyebrows.
"No, not that," Steve snorted. "Although, maybe later if you're a good boy. Here."
He pulled a bumblebee pin out of his pocket. Eddie grinned and took it, an overwhelming wave or affection for the guy in front of him. He quickly added it to the pins on his vest.
"Thanks, Stevie," Eddie said and kissed him softly before cooing at him. "Sweet boy."
Steve blushed as he fiddled with the pin on his vest.
"I was hoping to ask you a question, and I'd get if you don't want to or if you want to keep thing the way they are but - ," Steve said.
"Will you be my boyfriend?" Eddie blurted out.
"Yeah!" He exclaimed, his eyes bright. "That's what I was going to ask you."
"You should know that I've never wanted to be someone's boyfriend before, not until you came along," Eddie said. "I don't know even know how to be a boyfriend."
"We'll figure it out together," Steve grinned.
Eddie kissed him, pulling his body close to his as he wrapped his arms around his neck. Steve smiled against his lips, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Suddenly, the door opened, and Robin burst in.
"I need help - Shit!" Robin exclaimed.
"I, uh, lost something," Eddie said.
"What? Did you lose your keys in his mouth?" Robin asked.
"I might have," Eddie scowled.
"And you searched for them with your tongue?" She asked.
"It's really good search method," he said.
"Try again," she said.
"He really wanted a discount," Eddie said.
"Hm, that's a little more believable," Robin said.
"Steve," Eddie whined.
"Relax, Munson, I'm a lesbian," Robin said.
"Really?" Eddie and Steve grinned.
"Yeah, I hate to pull you away from your boyfriend, but there are a lot of customers now, and I need help," Robin said softly. "Oh, did you know that the lock on this door is broken?"
"I do now," Steve replied.
"Nice bee pin, Munson," Robin said.
"Thanks, my new boyfriend gave it to me," he said, batting his eyelashes at Steve.
"That's cute," Robin said. "He pinned you."
"I know! We're sooo going steady. I'm hoping he'll give me his letterman and takes me to the sock hop," Eddie squealed, batting his eyelashes again.
"Okay," Steve rolled his eyes and pushed them out of the closet. "You two are not becoming friends."
"We're all becoming friends, Harrington," Robin replied.
"Oh. Well, that's okay then," Steve said softly.
And friends the three of them did become. Eddie even invited them to see their band play at the Hideout. They had both enjoyed it immensely to his delight. Robin and Jeff had hit it off, most likely laughing about Eddie and Steve. Eddie didn't think that Steve would pull him into the bathroom and get on his knees for him. He didn't think he was that good, but Steve, apparently, thought differently. Steve had been a big hit with all of his friends, especially when he remembered Gareth by making note of the fact that he didn't have his braces anymore. The only thing left to do was introduce Steve to his uncle. Coming out to Wayne had been easy because it didn't change anything between them like he thought it would.
"You're my nephew, and I'm still your uncle. If I didn't give up on you when you robbed that truck full of weed, then there is nothing you can do or be that's gonna scare me off, son," Wayne said.
Now, here they were, waiting for Steve to arrive. He should have been here by now. Eddie was pacing the floor of the living room, his stomach in knots.
"Relax, son, he's going to be here," Wayne said.
"I feel like something is wrong. Something is seriously wrong," Eddie frowned.
Suddenly, there was a loud mechanical roaring sound like the sound of a helicopter. Eddie and Wayne walked outside to find several military looking helicopters flying overhead. Eddie quickly scrambled on top of the trailer to see where they were flying. Eddie blanched when he saw the smoke, and he quickly scrambled back down.
"What?" Wayne asked.
"There's smoke coming from Starcourt," Eddie said. "Steve works there. I need to go!"
"We're both going, and I'll drive," Wayne said, clapping a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I knew it, I knew it," Eddie kept muttering as they drove.
When they pulled up to Starcourt, they found a military blockade in front of the mall. They were denied entry as soon as they walked up. Wayne pulled him aside.
"I'll distract them. You go find your boy," he said.
Eddie looked at him doubtfully for a moment before Wayne started yelling at the guards. Eddie took the opportunity to run past them.
"STEVE! STEVE?!" Eddie shrieked as he fought through people's arms.
He was full on sobbing, his eyes blurry with tears. He didn't notice until he ran into Hopper.
"Munson, what the hell are you doing here?" Hopper asked.
"I'm looking for Steve. Is he okay? He's not - tell me he's not - " Eddie started to babble.
"EDDIE?!" Steve’s voice sounded from across the parking lot.
Eddie let out a strangled sob and ran across the parking lot. He threw his arms around Steve’s neck, hugging him tightly. Steve was stunned for a moment, but he soon wrapped his arms around Eddie, hugging him back just as tightly. Eddie pulled back slightly, but not out of his arms.
"Oh my God, baby, what happened to your face?" Eddie asked and then sighed. "It's okay. You don't have to talk about it right now. I'm just glad you're okay."
"Steve. . .who is this guy, and why did he just call you baby?" A curly haired boy in a hat asked.
"This must be Dustin," Eddie grinned.
"Oh, you talked about me?" Dustin asked with a grin.
"Dustin, this is Eddie Munson," Steve rolled his eyes.
"Oh! He's the friend you wouldn't shut up about," Dustin said.
"You wouldn't shut up about little old me?" Eddie batted his eyelashes at him and paused. "You can tell your kids, I don't mind."
"Eddie's my boyfriend," Steve said.
"Boyfriend?!" Dustin and the kids exclaimed.
"Eddie, the redhead is Max Mayfield, El Hopper, Lucas Sinclair, Mike Wheeler, and this is - "
"Will, right?" Eddie asked.
"Oh my God! You're the guy from the music store!" Will exclaimed excitedly.
"Huh?" Steve asked.
"Mom! It's that guy from the music store that I told you about!" Will said excitedly. "The one who took the baseball for me!"
A short woman with brown hair and brown eyes came wondering over.
"You're the one who did that for my boy?" She asked.
"Yeah," Eddie said.
"Thank you. I'm Joyce Byers, by the way," she said and hugged him tightly. "Did I just hear you're Steve’s boyfriend?"
"Yes," he said.
"Oh, that's so great. I'm happy for you, Steve. He sounds like a great guy," Joyce said. "You guys are cute."
"Thanks, Joyce," Steve smiled.
"I didn't know you were gay, Steve," Mike said, not unkindly.
"We're bisexual," Steve and Eddie said in unison.
"We like both," Eddie explained when some of them looked confused.
"You can do that?!" Lucas exclaimed.
"Yes, idiot," Max said. "I think it's so cool that you're both bisexual."
"We think so too," Steve said.
He felt Steve leaning against him, and he looked over at him in concern.
"I'm going to get this one to a hospital," Eddie said.
Robin parted her way through the kids and stood on Steve’s other side.
"I'm going with you," Robin said.
"I don't need to go to the hospital," Steve said.
"Yes, dingus, you do," Robin said.
"I'm not taking no for an answer, sweetheart," Eddie said.
"Okay," Steve said as Eddie slipped an arm around his waist.
His uncle was waiting by the van, and he grimaced at the sight of Steve.
"You okay, son?" Wayne asked.
"He will be once he gets to the hospital," Eddie said.
"You must be Wayne. I'm glad to finally meet you. Wish it was under better circumstances, though," Steve said.
"Me too, son," Wayne said and helped Eddie get him into the van.
Robin climbed up front while Eddie climbed in the back with Steve. He pulled him into his arms as Wayne drove off.
"You scared the hell out of me," Eddie whispered.
"Sorry," Steve replied.
"Nothing to apologize for," Eddie said. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too," Steve said.
"Steve - I, uh, - " Eddie said nervously.
"Yeah?" Steve asked.
"I love you," Eddie whispered.
Steve picked his head up and gazed at him. It was true. He loved him. This time, he wasn't going to run away or sabotage it. The only direction he wanted to run to was towards Steve.
"I love you too," Steve said.
Suddenly, there came a loud sniffle from up front.
"Uncle Wayne, are you crying?" Eddie asked.
"No!" Wayne exclaimed, and Eddie cackled. "Shut up, boy!"
Eddie threw his head back and laughed. His life was complete.
#stranger things#stranger things s4#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfiction
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Steddie Upside-down AU Part 6
Part 1 Part 5
“What now, he says,” Steve mutters, quietly enough that hopefully Munson won’t hear him where he’s jogging to catch up to Steve’s long strides. “How the fuck should I know?”
His hands clench where they’re tucked around the straps of his pack, knuckles turning white. Muson’s right behind him now, almost walking on his heels, and Steve does his best not to scream, but all he can hear is Munson’s stupid little “what now?”. As if Steve knows. As if Munson isn’t a good year older than him. Why is it his responsibility to figure out what the fuck they should do?
He wants to go home. He wants to see Nancy’s brow furrow when he says something stupid, and he wants to put his potatoes on Tommy’s lunch tray when he’s not looking. He wants to hide in his closet. Hell, Munson can come with, if he wants. Steve’s sure he’ll be markedly less annoying when the sky’s not red, and the quarry water doesn’t feel like it’s crawling through his stomach.
“What now?” Steve says again. It’s still quiet, but the irritation has bled out of his tone. “What now?”
Munson pivots around him to walk by his side, shoulders bumping companionably. It makes his fists loosen.
“We should kill it,” Steve says. He can still feel the things claws around his ankle where it had dragged him down.
Munson squawks, “we can’t kill that thing!” It’s too loud, echoing off the rocks and up into the sky.
Munson’s eyes are wide as Steve slams him into the wall of rock that makes up the right side of the trail. Steve’s hand curls into Munson’s hair, stinging from where it was cushioning the idiot’s head from the blow. His other hand snaps up, slapping over Munson’s stupid fucking mouth.
They’ve gotta stop finding themselves in these same positions – Munson’s lips are starting to feel familiar on his palm.
“Shut. Up.” It comes out as a hiss more than words, but Munson nods like he got the message, the rapid way he’s moving his head digging Steve’s hand further into the rocks. Then, the little bastard licks his palm like the consummate shit-stirer he is.
He drops him, turning around to continue making his way up the path. He doesn’t feel relieved when he hears Munson’s footsteps following in his wake. Really, he doesn’t.
“Uncle Wayne has a shotgun,” Munson murmurs, less like he agrees, and more like he’s appeasing a wild animal.
It doesn’t make Steve feel great.
He imagines Munson crouched on top of a roof, rifle cocked and ready, Steve playing convenient bait for the monster below. Would he be able to aim from that high up? He’s basing all his knowledge of guns on the war movies his dad likes, and that one failed hunting trip when he was eight. He’d come home branded a failure in his father’s eye – a pansy, not a man. It’s a stain he’s never been able to scrub off.
“How close do you need to be to kill it?” Steve asks.
Munson squawks, “I don’t know–” before seeming to catch himself and dropping his voice low. “I can’t kill it,” he hisses.
“Look, it hasn’t given us much of a choice.” Steve says, finally stopping his upward trek to lean against the rock wall, trying for causal, like they’re just chatting in between classes and not planning a murder in a hell dimension. “It’s us or it man, okay?”
Munson’s staring at him, eyes wide, mouth hanging. Steve reaches across the distance to squeeze his elbow, and Munson’s cheeks burn as his eyes shift down to their single point of contact before shifting away, back down the path they’d just come up.
“I don’t know how to shoot.”
“What?”
“I don’t know how to shoot!” Munson throws his hands in the air, shrugging Steve’s hand off in the process. He’s as close as he can get to shouting while still managing to maintain his whisper. It’s almost impressive. “I’d love to fucking kill it, Harrington but I’ve never shot a gun in my fucking life. Okay?”
“But you’re–”
“What, poor?” Munson interrupts. “Not all trailer trash shoot beer cans and squirrels for sport!”
Steve looks at the tattoo peeking above the collar of Munson’s shirt, the ripped off sleeves of his vest, and the black shit-stomping boots the other boy’s wearing and decides not to contradict Munson’s assumption of where he’d gotten that idea.
He sighs and starts walking again, ignoring Munson’s angry muttering from behind him.
“I went hunting with my dad once.” It comes out like pulling teeth without laughing gas. Feels like it, too.
Munson huffs, amusement and anger all tangled up together as he jogs to catch up. “Of course you did.” Munson nudges their shoulders together, but it doesn’t feel friendly this time. “Little rich boy.”
“When I was eight.”
Munson laughs. “Well, shit.” he says, slapping the back of his hand into Steve’s elbow once, twice, thrice. “Do you think you’ll even be able to find the trigger?”
“Pray to god I can, Munson.”
Munson looks up at the sky, the red shining off his eyes hauntingly and replies with a twist to his mouth the Steve can’t quite read, “I’ll be praying to someone, that’s for sure.”
Part 7
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sunburnt
cowboy!steve harrington x reader
content warnings: super fast paced ; fake dating ; they r exes ; uhhh forced proximity i think ; most likely inaccurate southern slang ; (2.0k)
summary: steve and you broke up a few years ago. but you live in a small town, and when you bump into him this time round, you’re told to go for it, or him, perhaps
a/n: ok this is v short just a baby one shot that i’ve been hoarding in my drafts for way too long <3 thank u for reading xoxo
masterlist / taglist
Steve’s nose is dusted pink, the freckled skin sunburnt from one too many times in the heat without protection. His lips are twisted into a smile. The kind that feels rare. The kind that has the same effect on you as a shooting star or an eclipse. You have to stop and stare for just a moment, turning the smile on his face from one of joy to the teasing kind.
The way you’re staring isn’t rude in any way, just more intense, full of the need to pull at the seams of his very being to figure out how he is who he is; To figure out how the same person, who’d been cooing at a puppy a moment ago, a furry tiny thing, can now be staring back at you with the same intensity, his mouth opening, and closing as he does so.
The leather hat on his head is a faded brown, clearly well-loved over the years. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, taking with it any hope that he’ll say something — anything.
It’s laughable really, the way that even after all these years you still find yourself staring. That you stayed there. In that fancy restaurant with the fizzy drink you ordered on your left-hand side and the boy, you’d just been staring at in front of you. He was younger, his hair darker and his skin lacking the freckles he’d gain in the years to come.
You stayed there.
In the way Steve put his hand on yours when the words left his lips. The same lips that’d kissed you so many times you’d lost count. The same lips that’d mouthed at the slope of your cheek every time you smiled because he thought it was endearing.
Your memory isn’t that great really, but somehow you’d managed to engrave every detail of that moment into your mind, down to how Steve’s voice had lifted at the end of each sentence. Like he was asking you a question rather than informing you of something. Like if you’d begged he would’ve listened.
You thought about it — about pleading with him to stay and asking him what went wrong, convincing yourself for a while that closure was what you needed. But it didn’t seem to matter now.
No amount of closure could truly satisfy you and time had taught you that. No amount of closure would prevent bumping into him at the grocery store or the way heat still blossomed in your chest when he looked at you. No amount, you’d decided, would fill the gap he’d left in his wake.
“You’re starin’,” the voice comes from beside you, a little boy whose face you only half recognize, “my Ma says it isn’t nice to stare.”
“Yeah?” he nods, “tell your Ma it’s only rude if they catch you.” The boy grins and turns around, no doubt running home to tell his mother what you had said. You imagine she’d laugh at that, shuddering and failing to hide a smile as she tells off the boy for believing such things. The boy would then nod in confusion. Perplexed as to the way his mother’s words and expression contradicted each other, and that would be the end of that. You assume so at least.
What you don’t expect, however, is the boy coming back a few minutes later, this time tapping the man you’d just been staring at on the shoulder. A part of you wants to call out, to stop the boy from saying something he doesn’t know the consequences of, but one small foreign part of you tells you that he knows exactly what he’s doing. The boy points at you and there’s that smile again splitting Steve’s cheeks, the kind that lights a fire underneath your skin, slowly melting you like wax from the inside out. Steve pushes his hand down quickly, checking to see if you’d noticed before turning back.
“Your Ma ever told you that pointing is rude?”
“She says it’s only rude if they catch you.” Laughter bubbles in your chest like water in a tea kettle and you try your best to suppress it, a huff of laughter making its way from your throat instead.
“Think this one already has,” Steve gently lifts the boy's hand with his index finger until he was pointing to you again, “Look.”
“Talk to her then.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, though to anyone else it might have been. The concept seems foreign to Steve – you haven’t been in his life for years now so why would he bother changing it now?
“What?”
“She was just starin’ at you, it only makes sense.”
“Guess it does,” he lets go of the hand in his, his eyes flitting from yours, now looking back at him, to the encouraging ones of the boy in front of him.
“You’re stalling,” he observes, “why are you stalling?’
“I am not stalling,”
“Why are you here,” Steve tilts his head, as if to say, fair point, before turning back to you. A shiver ripples through his spine, distributing all of his nervous energy to the tips of his fingers and toes.
One foot in front of the other, he decides. He stepped forward, his right foot now an inch closer to you, then his left, and before he knows it he was tapping on your shoulder.
“Long time,”
“Wonder why that is,” he almost smiled at that. After all these years, you’re the same. The same tendency to speak before thinking that he had adored at some point, the same crinkle in your nose he’d grown fond of years ago.
“Sorry,”
“Don’t go ‘round saying things you don’t mean”
“I do—“
“You don’t.” There is a sort of weary resignation in your voice, the kind that showcases the years you spent wondering what you’d done wrong. He isn’t sorry, and he would make the same decision over and over if he was given the same options today.
His lips part ever so slightly, heart-shaped and pink, “you see the boy over there,” his words topple on top of one another as he rushes to change the topic, “little shit pushed me in this direction, something about it only making sense.”
“Figured,” you pause, considering your next words, “did the same to me.”
“D’you think he’ll notice if we go our separate ways?”
“I think he’d grab us by our ears and push us together like dolls.”
“Doubt he’d be able to reach our ears.” He says, his voice lifting with a crack of humor.
You’re laughing now, a lovely sound he doesn’t realize he missed until he heard it. “Our ankles then.”
“So we're stuck?”
“Don’t act like this is the worst thing in the world,” you smile. “There were times when you’d pay to be near me.”
“Still would peach,” he murmurs. “S’just an observation.”
“An observation hm?” Steve nods. “What else is an observation?”
He ponders the question for a moment. “You haven’t changed at all, same attitude and tongue like a whip.” That he’d always adored, he wanted to add, but he didn’t, no point in telling you things he’d told you multiple times before. No point in reminding you of things he’d rather not think about.
“Yeah?” Steve hums in agreement, “And what gives you that impression?”
“The boy,” his voice is low, both rough and smooth in a way that made your skin burn, “when he pointed to you, I asked him if he’d ever been told by his Ma pointing is rude, y’know what he said?”
You do. “No.”
“He said ‘s only rude if they catch you,” his breath is warm against your neck and suddenly you realize he’s gotten closer to you, “and something tells me his Ma isn’t the one who taught him that.”
“Why would you think that?”
The corners of his mouth twitch and you mirror him, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. He swallows in a desperate attempt to stifle his laughter, failing a moment later. He’s right. You haven’t changed and you haven’t yet decided if you like that or not.
He looks at his wrist, as if to check his watch, only to find the skin bare, a slight tan line apparent from hours spent in the sun. His face falls.
“Lost your watch?” you inquire. Steve adores that watch more than anything, though you can never figure out why. You just assume it was a gift of some sort.
“Stolen,” he mutters.
Your lips form an ‘o’ shape for a moment before breaking eye contact, “‘s about to be dark anyways,”
“I’ll see ya later then? Tomorrow?” You can hear the grin in his voice. You can hear it in the way his voice twisted into a pretty breathy noise at the end of his question, hope tainting his tone.
“You askin’ me out Harrington?”
“Depends,” he tapped his chin and you bit your tongue to hold back any remark you’d later regret, instead taking his bait.
“On what?” You wouldn’t ever tell him but you had the incomprehensible urge to squeeze him then, when his grin got wider and his cheeks split with the force of it. To make sure that this moment has substance and it isn’t something you conjured up in your free time.
“D’you want me to?”
“Think the kid’s boutta answer for me,” his brows pucker, “So yes, for the boy.” You decide.
“For the boy.” He agrees.
“Till tomorrow then?”
“Till tomorrow.” He agrees. There’s a sort of unspoken agreement between the two of you. Treat whatever it is that there still is between you like it doesn’t exist. Assume that every interaction from now on would be for the boy. No matter how much you enjoy it, it couldn’t possibly be because you want it. Ridiculous.
-
He follows through the next day, though you half didn’t expect him to, opening the door to find Steve all dressed up with lavender in a bouquet. You tell him you’re just finishing your hair—you hadn’t even started. Steve can tell, noticing the familiar frantic note in your voice.
“Take as long as you want, yeah? I’ll be right here.”
The sweet smell of flowers travels down the hallway and reaches the bathroom. Heat blossoms in your chest and rolls over your skin, filling you until your cheeks are full of warmth. You’re out about 30 minutes later, haphazardly pulling a confused Steve into the bathroom to help you pick a necklace.
“Honey, couldn't you have shown me this out there?” He whispers after pointing to a piece of jewelry.
“Didn’t think of that then,” you turn around and hand both ends of the chain to him before continuing.
“D’you get here okay?”
It’s a dumb question and you know it. He loves less than 10 minutes from you and he’s been to yours more times than you can count. But he indulges you.
“For the most part yeah, rode through a storm or two though.” You can feel a huff of his laughter against your neck as he fiddles with the clasp. Steve had never been good with chains and clasps smaller than his fingers, having grown accustomed to thick ropes and metal and leather reins.
“Oh?” Your lips quirk at the corners. “D’you dry off before you came in?”
“Of course, wouldn’t wanna get mud all on your floor now would I darlin’.” His tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips as he focuses, exhaling suddenly as he finally connects the clasps. “S’that it?”
Your thumb and index feel at the little chain links, searching for the clasp. “You know what?” You smile.
He mirrors it. “What?”
“I think you might’ve done it. Well done, Steve.”
“Did I?” He adjusts the necklace. “Maybe I did.”
“That’s what I like to call growth Harrington.”
“Yeah?” His voice is warm with affection. Positive reinforcement always did wonders for the boy.
You hum your approval, “Last time I asked you couldn’t even undo the latch when I handed it to you.”
“Last time you asked I was 17 and dumb.” His tone is flat like you’d struck a nerve. You aren’t exactly sure why—he’d brought your separation on himself.
“‘m not exactly sure being able to successfully put on a necklace is what measures intelligence.” He smiles, your attempt to lighten the air having been successful. One day you’ll tell him that you only ask him to help with your clasps because the fire it lit under the skin of your neck was an addictive one. No matter how much time apart you’d spent and how bad he is at it you couldn’t help but crave it. But today isn’t that day.
“Couldn’t tell the difference between a stallion and a mare.”
“Steve, I still can’t do that.”
“Shit like that is part of my job peach.” His voice drops to a dramatic whisper. “Though if you really need to know you could always look at the underside. ‘s pretty foolproof.”
A puff of laughter erupts from your throat. “Steve ‘m gonna ask you somethin’ and you gotta be honest.”
“Shoot.” He seems to know what you’re planning on asking him, warmth flushing his cheeks even before your lips part
“How many times have you done that?”
“Oh come on darlin’ now you’re just tryin’ to embarrass me.”
You smile and his cheeks flush with warmth
“You need humblin’ every so often, I'm just taking it into my own hands.”
“You want me to be honest?” You nod and his voice drops to a whisper, “A lot. More than you would believe.”
“Makes sense. You were always real good at limbo.”
He laughs at that. “You think I’m good at limbo all ‘cause of looking at a horse's underside?”
“You said it, not me.”
His heart is filled with sticky sweet adoration, the feeling running through his veins and under his skin. ���I’ve missed you, peach.”
“You gonna take me out first or not Harrington?”
“How could I possibly forget with you lookin’ like that? You all dolled up just for me?” He tips his head forward, the brim of his hat eye level with you as he takes your hand in his.
You press your hand to your chest, a little dramatic but that’s the point. “Who else would I look like this for, hm?”
Steve grins, the kind that’s gorgeous and just a bit too cocky and you love it. He tugs you out the door with that, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side door before getting in himself.
“Say, the storm you rode through, which horse got stuck in it with you.”
“Think it’s the one you named, Cinnamon.”
“You went through with naming that poor horse, Cinnamon? Steven, it was a drunken suggestion.” He laughs, warm and low.
“Cinnamon doesn’t mind it, I’ll tell ya a secret though,” his voice lowers to a whisper, “I think Nutmeg despises her for it. The whole spice thing.”
“Stole Nutmeg’s thing hm?”
“‘s what she says.”
Your finger trails up the length of his arm, connecting freckles on tanned skin. “‘s romantic y’know, riding the horse I named to my house.”
“Of course it is, I came up with it.” You tilt your head and lift a brow. He laughs. “Not without your help of course.”
You hate how much you perk up when he says that. You hate how much you want yourself to hate him but you can’t bring yourself to, because no matter how many times you thought over the way Steve left you however many years ago, he still has you. And you still have him. And neither of you want to say it, but in this moment the boy that's brought you together couldn’t be further from your mind.
#ivy is writing !#steve harrington (ivy’s version)#steve harrington#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington concepts#steve harrington thoughts#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stluvs#cowboy!steve harrington#cowboy au#steve harrington au
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🍭 lollipop -26. “Just breathe. Like that. That’s it” from List 4 with steve pls?? ty<3
i combined this one with another request—"relax, i've got you." because i thought they went pretty hand in hand with each other, i hope that's okay! ty for requesting! <3
dad!steve harrington x pregnant!reader, mentions of pain and pregnancy symptoms, 1.3k
Being pregnant was proving to be one of the hardest things in your life. You’d had enough dizziness and nausea in your first trimester to last you a lifetime, enough achiness and swollen feet in your second than anyone should ever have, and now in your third, you’d discovered something brand new to put on your list of pregnancy woes.
False labor pains, otherwise known as Braxton-Hicks contractions (as Steve had very quickly informed you after a trip to the library that resulted in a pile of what to expect when you’re expecting-esque books residing next to his side of the bed). Paired with an extremely active baby girl with a horse strength kick who loved to make it known 24/7, this home stretch was your toughest one yet.
The telltale open and shut of the front door signaled Steve’s arrival, even before his voice. “Honey, I’m home!!!” He sang.
You made a vague noise of acknowledgement from your sprawled out position on the couch, waving your hand over your head haphazardly. You’d been stuck in the same spot for almost the whole day, seeing as every time you tried to get up, either another well placed kick or a false contraction dragged you right back down.
“How’re my girls doing?”
“Your daughter’s doing her daily karate routine against my organs, but other than that we’re great.”
“Oh so she’s gonna do karate now? I thought she was gonna be a tap dancer? Or a soccer player?” Steve teased gently, tossing his keys into the bowl on the table near the front door. He kicked his shoes off too, hanging his jacket on the hook next to yours before crossing the room to rub your shoulders with a kiss pressed to the top of your head.
“She can be all of them when she grows up, but I wish she’d stop it right now.”
He let out a snort of laughter, rounding the couch and kneeling in front of you. One hand came to rub your belly gently, the other coming to land on your knee. “Anything I can do for you?”
“Tell her to cut it out.” Another laugh from him. “How was work?”
“Pretty uneventful. Robin says hi though, wanted me to ask if you two were still on for lunch on Tuesday?”
“Oh my god, I totally forgot to call her back!” You gasped, hands scrabbling for purchase on the couch cushions as if you wanted to push yourself up.
“Hey, hey, slow your roll, sweetheart. Take it easy, I’ll give her a call later.” Steve eased you back down, shooting you a pointed look when you pouted up at him. “I promise, ‘mkay?”
“‘Mkay.” You sighed, slumping back into your previous position. Then, barely even taking a beat, you shot up straight again, this time moving to grab Steve’s shoulders as leverage.
His brows furrowed in instant concern. “What? What’s happening now? Are you okay?”
“Gotta pee.”
“Jesus, you really scared me for a second there,” He breathed, pressing a hand against his chest but going to help you up anyways.
The second you made it to your feet, you were hit with another Braxton-Hicks, this one so big that you would’ve keeled over at the strength of it if not for Steve still holding on to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, sinking back down on the couch yet again with a choked whimper. For something called false labor, the pain sure was really goddamn real. “Whoa, okay. Relax, I’ve got you. You’re alright, sweetheart, you’re doing great. Just relax.”
“Tell me to relax one more time and I’m gonna wring your neck, Harrington.” You said through gritted teeth, fisting his shirt in your hand as if it would help you ride out the pain.
Steve ignored your threat, because he knew you didn’t actually mean it. You’d been growing a whole tiny human inside you for the past eight months, the least he could do was stomach a few gripes here and there. “Squeeze my hands. Just squeeze my hands, it’ll help.”
You gladly took him up on the offer, borderline crushing his hands with a strength neither you nor him knew you had, but he’d never complain about it. A popped knuckle and temporary loss of blood flow was nothing compared to what you’d been having to endure nonstop.
Tears welled up in your eyes at the worsening spasm in your back and abdomen, like someone had taken your insides and was twisting them around in their grip.
“Just breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” Steve soothed, mimicking the deep breaths he wanted you to take. “Like that, that’s it. There you go. Just like that, baby.”
“This is the cramp from hell, Steve, deep breathing isn’t helping anything.”
“Okay, alright, let’s try something else then. Didn’t the doctor say moving around would help lessen the pain?” He suggested, trying his best to rack his brain despite the numbness creeping through his hands. “Or maybe drink some water? I can get you a glass of—”
“Can you just shut up for a minute?” The sharpness in your words shocked you, and should’ve shocked Steve too, but he didn’t seem phased at all, instead just nodding, gazing up at you with wide honey eyes currently filled with concern.
Guilt pooled in you as soon as the contraction finally subsided, and somehow, the guilt felt worse. Steve had been nothing less than the perfect partner this entire pregnancy, and here you were snapping at him for being supportive. Again.
You inhaled a shaky breath, bringing his hands up and pressing a kiss to each of his palms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Stevie, I don’t mean to be mean to you, I just—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there, okay? You can do and say anything you want to me, sweetheart, and you never have to apologize. You’re carrying our kid, you’ve got every right to be as mean as you want.” He assured you, cupping your face. His thumbs stroked across your cheeks featherlight despite the firmness in his grip. “I’m a big boy, I can take it. Never be sorry. You don’t have to be.”
“I love you,” You sighed miserably, melting against him like a popsicle on a hot summer day.
“I love you most, sweetheart.” He replied softly, leaning down to press his lips against your belly before adding something. “And I love you most too, baby girl, even though you’re giving your mom a tough time right now.”
“I swear, she’s bullying me more and more everyday.”
He chuckled softly, smoothing a hand down your back in light circles. “I’m sure that’s just her way of saying she’s excited to meet us.”
“I know. I’m so excited to meet her and I know she’s already everything we’ve ever dreamed of, but I’d kill to be able to sleep on my stomach again.”
“One more month, baby. Just one more month and then you can sleep on your stomach all you want.” He murmured, breath ghosting across your skin with each word.
“One more month.” You echoed, curling your hand around the back of his neck. One more month of discomfort for a lifetime of anything and everything with your baby girl. That, you were excited for. Slightly terrified, but definitely more excited. “I’m nervous. Are you?”
“Oh yeah. Nearly-shitting-my-pants nervous. All the time. I don’t think that feeling is ever gonna go away, honestly.” He snorted, nodding sharply. He pressed one more kiss to your belly. “But it’s worth it. As long as I have my two girls, anything is worth it.”
“I hate how perfect you’re being right now.”
“Just right now? I think you mean always.”
You pressed your lips together suddenly, scrunching your nose at him. “Stevie, you’re about to hate me.”
“I could never, but good try.”
“I still need to pee.”
Steve barked out a laugh, heaving himself to his feet and gearing up to help you in your endless attempts at standing up. “C’mon, preggers, let’s get you to the bathroom before karate kid in there decides to try out for a new belt.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#dad!steve harrington#dad!steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#dad!steve harrington x pregnant!reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#kait celebrates 1k!
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Soulmate AU Part Four
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Five
The night of the date, Eddie is pacing beside his front door. Wayne is watching from his armchair with an exasperated look, having already told him to sit down or he was going to wear a hole in the carpet. He jumps when there’s a knock on the door and shoots Wayne a dirty look when he laughs. Before opening it, he grabs the flowers off the counter and takes a deep breath, attempting to settle his nerves.
When he finally pulls the door open, he’s still wholly unprepared for Steve Harrington to be the one standing on his doorstep, eyes twinkling in the haze of the setting sun, hair perfectly coiffed and yellow sweater sitting snug around his torso. He holds out the flowers before Steve can even say hello.
There’s a beat of silence where Eddie almost pulls them back, but Steve hesitantly reaches for them, holding them delicately in his hands. “You got me flowers,” he says with a hint of awe.
“My mama used to garden a lot before she died, and I remember sitting with her as she talked for hours about the meaning of all of these different flowers she was planting. I don’t remember all of them because it was so long ago, but I do remember what these mean.”
It’s never easy talking about his mom, but it’s not as difficult with Steve looking at him like he understands the importance of Eddie divulging something so personal. There’s a hopeful look on his face that reassures Eddie he can trust Steve with every dark corner of his soul. They’re not there yet, but they’re headed in the right direction.
He looks down at the yellow and white water lilies with a watery smile, “Mama used to always say that water lilies were about rebirth and enlightenment. A lot of cultures tied that back to purity and religion. But mama used to tell stories of nymphs leaving them around those they wanted to protect or claim.”
Steve ducks his head, burying part of his face in the flowers. “Are you the nymph in this scenario?”
“If it means staking my claim, then yes.” A triumphant trill courses through him when Steve blushes. “I know the universe already did that for me, but I wanted to show you I mean it. I want to start over and actually give this a shot.”
“I want that, too.” Steve looks back at his car. “Maybe we can leave these here, though. I don't want them to get ruined sitting in the car.”
It takes a few minutes to find something to leave them in. The Munson’s aren’t big flower people these days, but soon enough they’re on their way, Wayne shooing them out the door. Steve hasn’t told Eddie where they’re going, but it’s somewhere outside of Hawkins.
As they exit the city limits, Eddie's nervous chatter has died down a bit. Steve quietly says, “I didn’t think you would be into flowers or any of that romantic shit.”
“Just because I look mean and scary, doesn’t mean I don’t believe in love. I was just as excited as you were to get my soulmate mark.”
“Why were you so scared to tell me?”
“My own stupidity, I guess.” Eddie shrugs. “Things never worked out long term for any of the Munsons when it comes to soulmates. My mom died young and my dad fucked off after that, not wanting to raise someone that was a living reminder of what he lost. Wayne’s died in Vietnam. I wasn’t hopeful that mine would work out when it was the most popular guy in school’s name on my arm.”
Steve holds out a hand across the center console of the car, wrist up as a reminder of whose name is written there. Eddie slides their hands together.
“I had accepted that my fate was just like all the other Munson’s before me. You were happy with Wheeler and I couldn’t bring myself to get in the way of that.”
“We weren’t happy,” Steve interjects faintly, absentmindedly rubbing a thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. “I think somehow Nancy knew it wasn’t going to be her name on my wrist. She’s perceptive in a scary way.” What little he knows of Wheeler tells him that’s true. After a beat Steve adds, “Sounds like we both had unrealistic expectations for all of this.”
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, squeezing Steve’s hand. “But we’re starting over, no more King Steve or Eddie the freak Munson.”
“Just Eddie and Steve. I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.” He’s about to ask where they’re going for the hundredth time, but Steve turns into a parking lot for what looks like a bookstore.
The building is nondescript with just a simple sign out front. Eddie is already bounding through the entrance before Steve’s turned the car off. Inside, there are walls of books, but it’s more than that. One side of the store is what appears to be a hobby shop, with puzzles, model kits of everything from boats to planes, and a whole display case of dice sets and miniatures.
Eddie’s frozen in place, just inside the doorway, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly, when he feels Steve come up behind him. “How did you find this place?”
“This kid I babysit plays Dungeons and Dragons, too. He’s the nerdiest little shit. Loves to read. Smartest person I know. He builds all kinds of robots that do stuff. His mom can’t afford to bring him out here all the time, so I started doing it. Let the kid go wild in here and he’s a happy camper. Easiest babysitting job ever.”
Eddie might climb Steve like a tree right here in the middle of this store for everyone to see. He can’t believe the words Dungeons and Dragons just came out of his mouth.
“This place is amazing. I’ve been using a secondhand set of dice from Gareth that he got from his cousin. I had no idea this place existed.”
“You wanna get a new set?” Steve nods towards the display case. “My treat.”
Eddie almost trips in his hast to sprint across the room and start going through the different sets, Steve’s laughter echoing behind him.
Part Five
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#katie writes#thank you all for being so patient#the final part tomorrow#i promise
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Hiiiiii!!! I saw your post about wanting to receive asks/requests so I figured I’ll try to shoot my shot and ask this request!!
Can I please have a shy reader that LOVES it when Steve Harrington overstimulates her to the point that she’s a blabbering mess? A bit messy if you can but anything would be fine! Thank you so much! ✨
OMG hiii!! Thank you sooo much for taking your time requesting something and I hope I did your ask justice.🥰
Remember, this is my first time writing something like this and english is not my first language:)
If you like it, please reblog<33
Warnings: 18+!!! Overstimulation, Spitting, dom Steve, P in V (unprotected), oral (F receiving), praise, degradation (slut), daddy kink, creampie (Let me know if i missed something)
Imagine laying on Steves bed totally naked, while he´s on his knees between your thighs fully clothed.
He´s been eating you out for what feels like hours, and he wont stop.
"Whos pussy is this baby? Who is making you feel this good?" he asks between kissing your clit and licking your pussy.
You try to say something but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a muffled whine.
Steve removes his head from between your legs, spits on your pussy and put two of his thick fingers in. "I said, who owns this fucking pussy?" he says a little more stern than before.
"It´s daddys... all daddys" you say quietly and hide your face in a pillow.
"Thats right pretty girl, only mine, now come for me".
You can feel the pressure building in your lower stomach and then you´re coming for like the 5th time, you cant even remember, everything is just a blur.
Steve then removes his fingers which makes you cry out and look at up at him with big eyes.
"Noooo!!! Daddy please don’t stop... please!!!!" you almost scream.
"I need to fuck this messy pussy now honey or i´m going to come in my fucking pants" he says while taking his jeans and underwear off.
"Yes, daddy, plea... need it, daddy..." You don´t even know what you’re saying, you´re desperate to feel his cock inside of you.
"Look at you, can´t even make sense right now, just a blabbering mess for daddy" Steve almost laughs at you while he pushes his cock into you.
You start blabbering again, thanking him and telling him how good it feels.
"You gonna cum again baby? Make a fucking mess over my big cock like my little slut?" Steve just thrust harder and deeper into you and you almost can´t take it anymore.
"Daddy, i´s too much, I can´t, hurts..." you say, but your body is betraying you and that feeling in your stomach is back again.
"You can do it, I can feel you squeezing me honey"
You try to hold it but it´s impossible, he´s hitting your spot and his talking makes you feel like you´re floating.
"Good fucking girl baby" Steve says while emptying himself into you.
He pulls out and takes you into his arms laying down.
"Thank you Stevie" you say sleepily.
"You´re welcome baby, thank you for doing so good".
AHHHH, this was so scaryyyy. I really hope it was okay.
#steve harrington smut#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#stranger things#stranger things smut#hyperfixationgirl
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Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition II)
I wanted to share my favorite series/ one shots while I work on my own, please show some love to these amazing writers!
All fics are fem!reader
Did I watch the most resent seasons of Stranger Things? No
Do I have severe brain rot? Yes. Definitely. Absolutely.
Marvel Fic Recs One Two Three
Harry Potter Fic Recs One Two
Stranger Things Fic Recs One
Specific Characters Tangerine
Masterlist
Like a Virgin by @usedtobecooler (18+ Only)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Reader
Request: “(I know you don't write for Steve but this just came to me) What about Steve teaching virgin!reader how to blow virgin!Eddie?!”
We Got A Lovin’ Thing by @sanguineterrain
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: “Eddie, as it turns out, is the only one with a brain cell among the three of you. (Or: the time you didn't know you were all dating).”
Dealer’s Choice by @ohcaptains (18+ Only)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: “your dealer’s always been a bit sweet on you -- giving you deals and letting you try out new shit. he even lets you make house calls! and pick the music, and sit on his lap...and... ”
Bruises by @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint (18+ Only)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: “Working the bar in an underground bare knuckle boxing club, reader meets the new fighter on the block, a wiry, charming metal head.”
Scoops Ahoy! Steve by @loveshotzz
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Request: “Hello, hello, so, I love Eddie (don't we all?) But I know you take requests for Steve too...I just rewatched season 3 and I'm just craving some nerdy/naive Steve? I feel like we've all made him out to be this suave and dirty man, but I need Steve falling in Nancy's window, Steve playing a fake trumpet, Steve yelling too loudly, "Ahoy ladies! I didn't see you there!" So maybe something where Steve is just absolutely clumsy and dorky, knocking things over and flustered by readers charm and confidence? Needs to be told what to do and will gladly do it, but he's going to make you laugh while it's happening. If you're not into writing it or have NYE and other WIP that are filling your time, thats a-okay, I just love your style of writing and thought I'd throw it out there! Sending love, good writing vibes, & all the Eddie/Steve thoughts your way! 💕”
Vickie’s Friend by @idyllicwillowtree
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: “Robin isn’t the only one chatting up a lady while volunteering at Hawkins High. ”
Never Could’ve Seen You Coming by @supernovafics
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: “in which a mutual wingman situation forces two strangers to talk to one another. both you and steve are only doing it to help your friends, but it surprises you how effortless talking to him is. simply the idea of love or even deeply liking someone has always made you nervous and scared, and would usually lead you to running away rather than facing your feelings. but, maybe it’s this unfamiliar comfort you find yourself quickly having with steve that can make you finally want to do the opposite of run and actually dive headfirst into what you’re feeling”
More Than Just Friends by @schoopsahoy (18+ Only)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: “you and your best friend have gotten into the habit of making out, as long as there's no touching. but that's easier said than done.”
Hard Times (Series/ Ongoing) by @bimbobaggins69 (18+ Only)
Pairing: Roommate! Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: “after getting your electricity and water shut off, you and your roommate are desperate for money, so desperate that you’re willing to have sex with each other on camera, but will your 10+ year friendship be able to withstand all the drama that comes along with shooting a porno?”
Sweeter Than This by @sanguineterrain
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: “you and Steve take the gang apple picking.”
#fic rec#steve harrington fic#eddie munson fic#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x reader#steddie x reader#steve harrington imagine#eddie munson imagine#steddie imagine#steve harrington x you#eddie munson x you#steddie x you#stranger things#stranger things fic rec#stranger things fan fic#stranger things imagine#steve harrington smut#eddie munson smut#steddie smut
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Chain 'round My Neck - Steve Harrington
Summary: It's yours and Steve's second anniversary, and he's distracted by something.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: none! literally all fluff!
Masterlist
Steve had been jittery all day.
From the moment he left Family Video, he had been distracted, barely able to keep his attention on anything for longer than five seconds.
You had asked him multiple questions that had him humming absentmindedly in response, before realising that you actually wanted an answer. His head would whip to you, a lost look on his face letting you know that he hadn’t even heard the question in the first place.
Even as he drove, his eyes were clouded over. Whatever it was that had him thinking this hard, it had his full attention. You didn’t quite know how to feel about it.
It was yours and Steve’s second anniversary, and the fact that he was lost with the fairies was casting a shadow over your plans for the night.
It was weird to think that it had only been just over two years ago that you and Steve had been shouting at each other while fighting demo-dogs and trying to protect a bunch of middle school nerds.
Shared trauma really did wonders for the soul.
“You know, Dustin mentioned that Mike is flying to California next week,” you said as the two of you got out of the car in front of the diner. “Apparently Nancy isn’t going, for some reason.”
Steve took your hand in his. “Oh, really?” He had that far-off tone in his voice that had you looking up from the ground to him. His eyes were darting around at everything you passed, barely fixing on anything for more than a second.
“Is everything OK?” you asked, brows furrowed.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah—everything’s fine. I’m just…hungry,” he trailed off, and you nodded slowly.
Taking your normal booth inside, you didn’t even need to grab the menus. You came here enough to know it back to front, inside and out. Plus, you chose the same thing nearly every time.
Steve did, too, so you became even more suspicious when he took the menu, holding it up high as his eyes ran over the words faster than he could read them.
Even sitting across from him, you could feel his leg bouncing up and down.
You put a hand on the top of the menu, pushing it down just enough to make eye contact over the top of it. You raised a brow when he finally looked at you, as if to ask Are you good?
He gave you a reassuring smile, before pursing his lips and placing the menu on the table. “What were you saying about Dustin earlier?” His attempt at nonchalance was commendable, but you saw straight through it anyway.
“Mike is flying to California next week,” you explained again, “and Nancy isn’t going with him.”
Steve frowned. “Why?”
You shrugged. “He didn’t say. But he did hear Mike say that it might have something to do with college.”
“You think they’re not going to the same college?”
You opened your mouth, but hesitated. You knew that Nancy was still sort of friends with Steve, and Steve liked Nancy a lot more than he liked Jonathan. “I just hope that Jonathan does what’s best for him. He’s always doing everything for everyone else. I hope he does what he wants.”
Steve sent you a small smile, and for a second you thought that he was back to normal. But then he shifted in his seat, and that nervous look passed over him again. He shifted again, eyes shooting to you for a split second before they were back on the table.
You cocked your head, eyes running over him. He had a slight flush to his cheeks, one that he’d been sporting all afternoon. “Are you OK? Anyone would think you were going to propose,” you joked, hoping that the joke landed.
His eyes shot to you again, but he shook his head and chuckled. “No—” then immediately straightened and amended, “—I—I mean, I do want to—but just, not right now. Unless you do—”
Despite the insane flutter of you heart at his words, you placed your hand on his. “I was only joking, babe.”
Steve chuckled again, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he turned his hand over and took yours in it. His thumb traced back and forth over the back of your hand, leaving the skin there feeling red hot.
He smiled as you squeezed his hand—a proper smile—one that had you mirroring it as you stared at each other.
After a second, he swallowed. “I got you something.”
You froze. “I thought we said no gifts.”
Steve shot you a look. “First of all, as if I wouldn’t get you a gift. And second, don’t think that I don’t know you got me something, too.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he was right. His gift was perfectly wrapped and sitting on your bedside table.
Steve let go of your hand and reached down to pull a small rectangular box from his pocket. He hesitated for only a moment, finally conceding and handing you the purple box. It was light, not heavy like you expected it to be, and there was a ribbon of your favourite colour tied around it.
You glanced up at him and he nodded for you to continue. You pulled the ribbon, letting it fall to the table as you took the lid off.
It revealed a necklace. A thin interlocking chain, with a small pendant in the centre.
A letter pendent.
The letter ‘S’.
You looked up from the necklace to Steve.
“It’s a necklace,” he rushed. “I mean, obviously, but it’s for you and, I guess in some way, me. Because you always like having something of mine with you, so I thought—” He sucked in a breath. “—I thought that this was like you carrying a little piece of me everywhere.” By the end, he was trailing off.
You blinked at him. “Steve,” you managed, feeling the tears prick behind your eyes. “This is…” Every possible word flashed through your mind, but you couldn’t find the right one for just how much this gift meant to you. “It’s beautiful.”
Steve closed his eyes for a split second as he heaved out a sigh of relief. “You like it?”
“I love it,” you promised, tracing it with your tip of your finger. “Can you help me put it on?”
He nodded, immediately up to assist you, his fingers warm against the back of your neck as they fiddled with the clasp. Once it was secured, he returned to his seat, eyes on the pendent as it rested between your collarbones.
You reached up and twirled it between your fingers. It felt at home around your neck, like it had always belonged there. In some way, it had.
Steve was beaming as he watched you.
“Thank you,” you said, through a grin of your own. “It’s perfect. I love it. I love you.”
His eyes dipped from the necklace to your face as you dropped your hand. “I’m glad you like it. I was so worried that you would think it was weird—”
“—You? Worried? I never would have guessed,” you teased, laughing as he rolled his eyes.
He fell back into his usual charming self, the one that had been missing all day. “Laugh it up all you want, babe. I’d like to see your present top this one.”
You grinned. “Who says it won’t? Maybe I got you something even better.”
“Impossible.”
He was right, and you just shook your head as you leaned over and kissed him.
a/n: thank you for liking and reblogging! <3 aeia
#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#stranger things fluff#steve harrington one shot#stranger things one shot
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Steddie Time Travel Fix-it Pt. 11
Ao3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9 Pt. 10
Eddie wakes up the following morning to Steve Harrington sitting cross-legged beside him, loading the magazine of a handgun.
“Whu?” Eddie manages.
When they’d all gone to sleep––Eddie checks the clock, five hours ago, why are they even awake?––Robin, Chrissy, and Nancy had taken the guest bed while Steve and Eddie made due with sleeping bags and camping cots on the floor. The kids were split between Dustin’s room and the living room.
And now, instead of sleeping in like most sane people would do after the apocalypse was avoided, Steve is loading a gun. He’s also still wearing Eddie’s shirt and boxers. While loading a gun.
Eddie should not have to deal with this so early in the morning.
“Hey,” Steve says.“You can keep sleeping. A couple of us are going to do a quick check at the last open gate. Make sure it still looks like he’s really gone this time.”
The he is weighty.
Eddie shoves himself into a sit, scrubbing at the crust in his eyes.
“Okay. What time are we leaving?”
“We aren’t going anywhere,” Steve murmurs absently, sliding in the now-full magazine, checking the safety is on before standing. “You’re sleeping. I’m going.”
“Okay, but who’s going with you?”
Steve tucks the gun into the duffle bag that Eddie recognizes from the night before, then stoops to pick up the ammo box. His movements are awkward around his still-bandaged hand, around the clear pain from his ribs.
“Hopper, Nance, Jonathan, Robin, El, and I,” he says. “One of the scientists from the lab and two of the suits. Not that they’ve ever been useful. Kids are staying here with Joyce and Murray.”
“You’re injured,” Eddie points out, standing.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m uninjured,” he presses. “And I’m a pretty good shot, thanks to Wayne. Especially if you give me one of those shotguns.”
Steve’s movements become even more jerky as he shoves another box into the bag. “No, Eddie. Just hang out here. We’ll be back soon.”
“Okay, fuck no. You’re not leaving me behind with the literal children again.”
“It’s not a debate,” Steve says, every ounce the infuriating my-word-is-law asshole that stalks the halls of Hawkins high. “You’re not coming, deal with it.”
“I am coming, and you can deal with it. I don’t know why you seem to think I’m useless and I don’t care, but you’ve got plenty of guns to go around and I know how to shoot one. I’m coming.”
Steve stops packing shit into his bag. “No,” he says, low and dangerous. “You’re not.”
Eddie steps into his space, tips his head, and practically snarls into Steve’s mouth: “Oh, Harrington. I am begging you to try and stop me and see what happens.”
“Would you just fucking—no,” Steve shouts, voice breaking. “No, okay? I can’t. I can’t take you down there.”
“Why not?!” Eddie shouts back.
“Because even when we thought it was safe, even when we planned for you not to––we took so many fucking precautions, but it always happened. Every time. And even if it seems okay now, I can’t do that again, especially not when we’ve come so far this time. I can’t even see you down there, okay? I will lose whatever’s left of my goddamn mind. So no. Please, no. Eddie.”
And that. Well. Eddie was not expecting that.
He takes a step back. He considers Steve’s face—the tight, stricken, set of his mouth and the sheen to his eyes. And something occurs to him.
“You said that when you first went back in time it wasn’t enough,” Eddie murmurs. “That you made several attempts but you still lost.”
“Yeah.”
“Was I there? For all of them?”
“Yeah.”
“How many times did you watch me die?” Eddie asks quietly.
“Too many,” Steve says, and his voice cracks between the words. “Please don’t make me do it again.”
The way he says it, the way he looks when he says it, makes Eddie take another step back.
“Okay,” Eddie says. “Okay, I’ll stay here.”
They’re only gone for two hours but Eddie has worked himself up into something of a frenzy by then.
The kids keep trying to talk to him about the Eddie they knew before, about D&D and their former lives and hey if we’re going to be stuck in the past do you think we can skip a few grades?
Eddie does his best to follow along but he’s caught thinking about the panic in Steve’s eyes, the supplication, when he’d begged Eddie not to come. He can’t stop wondering how many times they went back. How many times they failed. How many times Steve probably blamed himself for the failure.
Eddie has been––not jealous, exactly, but a little frustrated by the fact that everyone except for him and Chrissy, and Barb before she left, had a strange and slightly overwhelming camaraderie. They had all these experiences in common––they’d shared life-changing moments, and Eddie constantly felt like the odd man out. Like he was trying to play catchup with only the barest of plot outlines. It didn’t seem fair, that he was expected to adapt so quickly to the knowledge that alternate dimensions and time travel and monsters existed while simultaneously trying to fill the shoes of his former––future?––self.
Now, though, he thinks about the shadows that seem to permanently live in Steve’s eyes and he wonders if maybe the opposite is worse. Steve had adapted to the horrors over time. Too much time. Time pressed between layers of time where the only memories created were negative. Were painful.
He thinks he should probably give Steve a hug when he gets back.
Wayne had called when he got off work––the suits had contacted him earlier that morning and put him up in the motel in town. They’ed told him there was seismic activity and the trailer had been damaged and the government would be taking care of a replacement, which Wayne had reported to Eddie with a bemused yet hopeful tone. “Guess I won’t have to save to fix the roof anymore, huh?”
Eddie probably hadn’t shown the proper enthusiasm for the unexpected windfall, because he was too busy twisting the phone cord around his fingers and staring out the kitchen window at the empty cul-de-sac, hoping that maybe, if he stared hard enough, Hopper’s truck might appear.
When it finally does appear, Dustin is trying to cajole him into eating a pancake while Chrissy is asking, for the third time, how, exactly, she died, which the kids are being very shady about––apparently she and Barb and Eddie had all been killed by this Vecna dude. Barb very explicitly did not want to know how she died. Crissy vehemently does. Eddie…isn’t certain. He’s afraid he was a coward, at the end. He doesn’t want that assumption confirmed.
When the truck pulls up in front of the house, the kids pile onto Steve and the others first, with hugs and questions and requests to go with them next time.
Eddie and Chrissy watch from the doorway.
“So,” Eddie says. “Is this super weird for you too, or––?”
“Yeah,” she says, not sounding very upset about it. “It’s nice, though, at the same time.”
Eddie raises an eyebrow at her. “Finding out the monster from the hell-version of Hawkins killed you in a different reality is ‘nice’?”
She leans into him so she can poke her elbow into his ribs. “Well not that part, obviously. But the part where––I’ve never had close friends before. I’ve had, like, cheerleading friends. Or friends I spend time with because their parents are friends with my parents. But never people of my own. Who like…genuinely care about me.” She nods to the group in the driveway, laughing as Robin pantomimes something. “They all love each other so much. And they thought I was worth saving. That’s pretty cool. To have a group like this care about you.”
Eddie can’t argue with that.
Hopper shepherds everyone back inside and they cheerfully lay into the food that Joyce and Claudia had made in their absence. The kids are talking about the upcoming science fair and maybe they can win it this time with a little extra knowledge on their side. Joyce is wondering if that’s cheating since technically they’re all freshmen in highschool now competing on a seventh-grade level. Dustin says it doesn’t matter because somebody needs to put Justin Malcovich in his place—it’d be an act of public service to knock him off his science fair throne––
Eddie agrees with Chrissy. He does feel honored and flattered and a little uncomfortable, honestly, with the affection the kids and Steve obviously have for him. But he doesn’t understand how he fits here. Or at least how this version of him fits. Maybe he’s not ready to be a part of whatever this is. Maybe there’s a reason they didn’t meet for several years.
“Well that’s not a good expression,” Steve murmurs, coming to stand beside him.
He’s still wearing Eddie’s shirt. And he smells. So fucking good.
“This is just a lot.” Eddie admits.
“Fair,” Steve agrees. “You want to go sit on the roof?”
“...is that an option?”
Steve snags two pancakes from the table, grabs Eddie’s hand—his hand, not his wrist. His hand. And pulls him up the stairs.
They sit on the roof.
It’s not terribly steep, but it’s steep enough that they crab-walk past the window so they can put their backs against the sun-warmed siding for a little extra confidence.
“You mind?” Eddie asks, pulling a joint from his pocket.
“Only if you’re not planning to share.”
Eddie is planning to share.
They sit in companionable silence for several minutes, fingertips brushing, probably more fraught than it needs to be, as they pass the joint back and forth.
“So,” he says, shoving hair out of his face as the wind tries to push it directly into his mouth. “I’m assuming everything looked ok?”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees, “totally fine. Hopper said the kids can come next time, so that should tell you how safe he thinks it is.”
“But still not me?” Eddie asks.
Maybe he shouldn’t. But he feels like their conversation from that morning didn’t ever get to the point he wanted it to.
“Still not you,” Steve agrees, abruptly somber. “Never you.”
Eddie waits for Steve to continue, to explain, but he doesn’t. And Eddie isn’t feeling so cruel to push. Instead, he tries to french braid his hair back out of his face and is only partially successful. If he and the wind are keeping score, the wind is definitely winning.
“Oh, here,” Steve rocks to one side so he can pull something out of his back pocket. It’s Eddie’s bandana. “This was in with my laundry from last night,” Steve explains. “Come here, I’ll tie your hair back for you.”
Eddie doesn’t move for several seconds because the words don’t really make sense. He’s perfectly capable of tying back his own hair, he certainly doesn’t need Steve's help. He’s also not going to turn it down, though.
He moves closer. He shifts so his back is partially to Steve.
Steve’s fingers sink into his hair with a degree of familiarity that is a little winding. He combs it back as best as he’s able and then uses the bandana to gather it at the nape of his neck.
“There,” he says, using one hand on Eddie’s shoulder to turn him back around “better?”
It is better.
“Yeah,” Steve agrees, despite the fact that Eddie hasn’t said anything. He tucks a few flyaway strands behind Eddie’s ear. “Looks good.”
Eddie exhales the smoke he’s been holding in his chest: long and slow and contemplative.
He passes the joint. He decides to be brave.
“Can I ask you something? And if you’re pissed after, can you just…let me leave. And not punch me in the face. Please.”
“Punch you—Eddie, what?”
“Are you flirting with me? Because it feels like you’ve been flirting with me. Pretty blatantly, man. And it’s seriously doing my head in because there’s no way, except––I just need to know. If you are.”
“Fuck,” Steve says. “I’m not trying to. I mean, I guess I am, sometimes, but it’s not––”
“Cool. Cool ok so, we’ll just forget I said anything and––” he pushes himself up, careful to keep his sneakers parallel to the roofline so he doesn’t fall to his death. Though, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad at this juncture.
“No. Shit, I knew I’d fuck this up. Eddie, please.”
Steve pulls him back down. Eddie lets him.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how to act around you because I know you aren’t the Eddie I knew, but you’re so similar and I’m selfish and I just…
“What?”
“Typically I only had you for a few days. The same few days. Over and over. Danger and blood and death, so this is nice.”
“What, getting to leave the hellscape timeline? Getting to eat pancakes and smoke and not worry about the end of the world?”
“Getting to keep you.” Steve whispers.
He closes his eyes after he says it, too slow to be a blink. Eddie thinks he probably didn’t mean to say it, judging by the grimace on his face. “Before it was just the same thing. A week of terror. Over and over again. And I only got stolen moments with you in between all of it. So this, and the last couple weeks, it’s just nice. That's all.”
“Oh,” Eddie says.
The silence between them is heavy.
“Were we…” Eddie isn’t sure how to ask.
“No,” Steve says, meeting his careful gaze. “Not really. But there was something. Or I think there could have been something, but it was mostly just looks and touches and I probably misinterpreted them anyway.”
Eddie breathes. “You probably didn’t.”
“What?”
“Steve,�� he says. “Come on.”
“Yeah?” Steve asks.
“Yeah.”
“Can I kiss you?”
You can do anything you want to me, Eddie thinks. Instead, he says, “Yes. Please.”
***
Tag list:
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Cochise IV: Laudanum
Summary: Today, Michael Doten would die. Today, old graves would be exhumed and a mirror image will be held in front of you. Today, you would have to speak your husband’s name.
Warnings: Fem!Reader, Outlaw/Doc Holliday!Eddie Munson x Reader, wild west/Tombstone!AU, drug use, drug overdose (apparent suicide), death of minor character by hanging, period-appropriate death and violence, angst, fluff, smut
My content is 18+ Minors DNI
Word Count: 2.5k
Author's Note: Thanks Drac @dr-aculaaa and Jo @jo-harrington for listening to me vent and keysmash about this and let me get emotional about starting to wrap up Cochise. Love you guys <3 this one is for you <3
On this day, you wore white.
Fingers sift past black gown and black gown again, burning a little less when it brushes the taffeta silk of your wedding gown. Dry knees scrape against soft fabric– much too soft for you. Untouched cotton catches on the hair of your legs. It squeezes at your middle much like that ugly dreadful serpent rattled its warning cry into the hollows of your ears and coiled itself tight and ugly into your ribs once more.
On this day you wore white because, the last time you wore black, you felt the ripples between your husband’s fingers one last time. You ran your thumbs over the creases of your own to remember what his were like. Your heels sunk soft into the powdery grains of the sand outside of The Whispering Sands, a tomb trapping the hollow of your body on this day. You felt the sun on your skin almost immediately, the same way it had day after day after day– though, today it felt more like a sting. You stood outside, but felt the tether thick and winding against your back, reeling you deeper into The Sands until you pulled so hard it snapped.
Today, you would watch another man die.
Your footsteps were deafening as they crunched over compacted gravel, softening again as you transitioned from roadway to nothingness again, the crowd silent and tense in wait. There was not a gallows with a trap door on this side of Cochise county. Instead, a monstrous ironwood hung dry and ravenous over the west side of the city like a claw protruding from beneath the surfaces of Hell– several hundred yards out.
The trial was fast, nothing ever happened in Cochise county that wasn’t. You’d have half a mind to call a kangaroo when you saw one, though, it was hard to argue killing a government official while the whole town watched.
The sheriff and the plaintiff, a regal man from the state commissioner’s office, sat still and hollow-faced. The sheriff stared off in the distance, eyes rimmed red with unshed tears. You had it in your heart to knock on his door later. You would stew in silence together. You would fix him a meal and serve him a drink and refuse the money that he would inevitably leave on the counter, and you would dab at his knuckles as they seeped a deep red blood– just as he had done for you.
Michael stood atop a stool, perpendicular to the flanks of a a broken Salt River mare, less slovenly. More sober than you had ever seen him in this lifetime. He blubbered a mess and immediately you were saddened. A man reduced to pleading. A man broken of pride and envy.
“Just shoot me. Lord, please just let me go fast.”
“Mr. Michael Doten,” The commissioner began, voice monotonous and stale. He had done this too many times, “You have been tried by the state of Arizona, Cochise County, and found guilty of the crime of Murder. On the evening of twenty-first day of August, in the year of our lord 1894, you fired a single shot that ended the life of State Marshall, Milt Kilmer. This crime was witnessed by Sheriff Steve Harrington, Mr. Edward Munson, and multiple other witnesses…”
“Please, Lord. An eye for an eye. Please just kill me fast.”
“Michael Doten, by the power vested in me by the state of Arizona, I hereby sentence you to death by hanging. May the lord be with you.”
“Please, Lord.”
Soft cries of prayers ring poignant in the stale air. A broken man’s last pleas for forgiveness. Steve mouths a soft, “I’m sorry.” to Michael, before placing a rucksack over his head, pulling the noosehead over his throat and squeezing his shoulder. The mare is commanded to run. Prayers turn to chokes and then bittersweet silence.
There is a gilded line between life and death. In that moment, the sun shines too bright, the hum of the earth becomes deafening. The desert respires one heavy and pungent sigh. And all is silent again. A saguaro congregation stands in the distance, their joshua tree choirs bow their spiny heads in reverence. A silent prayer washes over the desert.
You haven't prayed in years, but you bow your head and say a silent prayer for Michael Doten. You aren’t quite sure what for. Peace in death, maybe. Or even the blissful dissonance for silence would suffice. By the way he chokes his final breaths, you know it is too late to hope for painlessness.
You look up, and lock your vision into a familiar warmth. You know Eddie can feel it, too.
He is walking this line. He is standing over an old grave, just the same as you are. He is up North, cool, damp soil slipping between numb fingers and falling over a casket, how desperately he wants to peel it open and feel her chest once more for breath– how desperately he wants to crawl inside and lay himself next to her. How desperately you yearned to do the same.
His movements are swift and sudden, rhythmic and graceful as he pulls himself on to his stallion and rides off towards the south mountain in a blind rage. The crowd dissipates at a sickeningly slow rate, and you push through hordes of black gowns and coats in search of him. You knew The Sheriff would be okay, you knew he would need his time to fester. Instead, you ran after him, toes kicking up clouds of powdery sand that sprayed behind you in clouds.
By the time you reached the south mountain, you were breathless. The white ruffles had torn at the seam, hanging down ragged and dirty in the sand beneath you.
It was spring, and the spring superbloom hung heavy in sheets on the mountain. The sun casting a pale gradient haze across the sky, orange mallows bleeding their bloom into the end of day, a royal hue and a vibrant pink mixing into a farewell song.
“I felt it, too, Eddie.” Even now, you feel it. He looks at you, face angry. Just for a second, you’re afraid he might yell. “Like you’re there again, like you–”
“You’re standing over a grave?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
The silence was deafening, tension like bitter aspic encasing you in a mould inescabable. The seconds that passed by as you waited for him to say something were stretched like taffy. You waded through the quicksand of these moments, thrashing and drawning yourself deeper in tension. Finally, you spoke:
“Y’know, when Wilhelm died…” It’s the first time you speak his name. He feels real again, like he’s standing in front of you. You reach for his hand but find Eddie’s instead. “...when Wilhelm died I felt like I died with him. Or at least, something did. It felt like I just up and left a big fat chunk of my right there in the ground with him.”
You squeezed his hand, firm, yet gentle, “You would have liked him.”
“Really?” He squeezed yours back.
“Yes.” It wasn’t an explanation, but it was enough.
“You would have hated Christine.”
“Really?”
“Yes, ma’am, you are too much like each other.”
“What was she like?’
“Beautiful,” He started with a smile, “Pretty as a mink stole, but stubborn to Hell and back again.”
He goes on like this, and you can see her in front of you. Barefoot and dancing in the orange mallow, firey hair against a vibrant wash of color in the background. She glows. Heavenly and celestial. Her feet are light and nimble. She never sleeps, she says, she says she will never die. She is dancing, dancing. She says that she will never die.
“She sounds wonderful.”
It does not seem like a suffice enough answer. To be compared to something so lovely– so grand, as something so plain and mended.
“She was.”
“Wilhelm was too.” and he was, tall and beautiful and lively as she. He is also never sleeping. He is also dancing. He also says that he will never die.
“You know, you never say anything about him.” He says to you, turning in your direction, finally.
You shrugged, allowing yourself to meet his eyes for just a moment, “I guess I’m just so used to the whole town knowing everything about me.”
“Well, I’d like to know about you, too.”
He is close now, impossibly close. Decadently close. A closeness you have not felt since Wilhelm. It was sickening to know how close you felt to both of them.
“I’m just a widow. I run a bar.”
“But it wasn’t always that way.”
“No, not always.”
“Then tell me about him.”
“He was tall. The tallest man I had ever met.” You go on like this, describing to Eddie in full detail the discrepancies and your favorite, beautiful details of your beloved, then, finally, you spoke of his death, “That night, a handful of bandoleros came into The Sands. They took everything. They cleaned out the humidor. The last thing they wanted was his ring– h-he, he wouldn’t give it up.” Your voice wobbles, you don’t stop the tear from rolling down your face.
“Christine died in her sleep,” He starts, and it is confiding and all-encompassing, “I like to think that she was finally at peace with whatever she was fighting. Maybe herself. They said it was laudanum. They said we wouldn’t ever know if it was an accident or not.”
You’d have half a mind to ask him what he thought. It was better saved for another day. But you would always wonder.
“I’m sorry, Eddie.” You chided, it felt long-winded, insincere, even. Maybe because you had heard it so many times yourself. But by the nature of practicality it felt correct.
He shrugged at the insincerity. If he felt it, he would never say it aloud. There was a pause, in which he completed his next words carefully. You were past informality now, just as you were past Edward or Wilhelm or Christine.
“We aren't so different, y’know.” You begin, backtracking on that ugly, overused phrase like a tar. He is looking outwardly into the distance. You wonder if he sees her dance too.
He turns towards you, purple overtaking the sky in a solemn pitfall of night, “But we are”
“And how is that?” You ask, almost snide. A smile curls at the corners of your lips. Orange and yellow overtake the bowl of mountains to the west.
“Ma’am, I feel like I could love you.”
“Not the same way you loved her.”
“You can’t love me the same way you loved him.”
“But I could try.”
He is walking this line. He is standing over an old grave, just the same as you are. He is up North, cool, damp soil slipping between numb fingers and falling over a casket, how desperately he wants to peel it open and feel her chest once more for breath– how desperately he wants to crawl inside and lay himself next to her. How desperately you yearned to do the same. But this time, he finishes the pile and sets it with his hands. A final goodbye to Christine.
He pulls you from the sand where you lay, pulls you into the bed of orange mallow and lays you to rest upon your back.
He is slow to undress you, planting his lips like glue upon your skin to mend whatever pieces he can find. His fingers are nimble and fumbling as he pries apart the button snaps of your dresses with more force than necessary. Desperate to feel your skin– quick to take his time.
He nips gentle marks across your chest, flesh gathering between teeth like ruffles. You do not yelp or cry out like Christine did. Instead, your breathy sigh washes over his face like a spring breeze, and your back arches to give leeway for his hands to find purchase.
He is relentless in your dresses, pulling underclothes over the soft hair of your legs and feeling his way up again with wide, warm palms. His clothes come quickly after.
He undresses you in your entirety, then pauses to look over your body. You are not a woman who cowers away from his gaze, not a woman who slinks from his touch. You do not move your arms to cover yourself, instead, you let the waning heat of the sun bathe your skin in an ambergris orange glow.
For a moment you stare at each other, taking in his form. Really, he is beautiful. Alabaster skin against a bleeding purple sky. He does not cower from your gaze, nor does he flaunt himself for you in a ridiculous masquerade of masculine offense. Instead he looms over you like the sun, warming your skin with his radiance.
In him you do not see Wilhelm. Instead you see yourself.
Mimicked faces of ecstasy mirror over when he pulls two gentle fingers through you, plunging them in a slow, methodic rhythm. It is soothing as much as it is arousing. A thumb rolling circles over the right places, placating a birdsong of quiet, breathless sighs not unlike his own.
His skin is soft against yours when he enters you, flesh against flesh creating a warm friction masked by sand and sweat.
His head is against your shoulder, teeth grazing over the flesh there and taking it in gently. His hands have purchase against your waist, keeping you grounded in place as he continues. His hair is soft against your neck, lye pungent in your nostrils as he encompasses your grief in his own jar and shelves it for another day.
This evening, you will lay naked in the sea of this spring’s superbloom. He will roll the petals of the orange mallow over your skin and you will laugh as he twists the flower in circles. You have not laughed like this since Wilhelm. He has not laughed like this since Christine.
On this day, you wear white. Married to your grief and eloped to this place.
On this day, you watched another man die, but you also breathed life into another man through nimble whispers and breathless sighs.
On this day, you walked the plane between life and death. You held a man’s breath in your hands, so thick with his spirit you felt you could store it in a jar until you were ready to forgive him.
On this day, you spoke Wilhelm’s name, and severed the tie that bound you to grief.
You would not be healed today, but you say you will never die.
#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things s4#eddie munson fluff#eddie stranger things#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#cowboy!eddie munson x you#cowboy!eddie#cowboy!eddie munson#Spotify
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Star Child Part 13
I told you I wouldn’t leave you hanging. In fact, I made sure I had the resolution to the cliffhanger WRITTEN before posting the last chapter. So here we go! Also a hint at future Buckingham...;)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
***
Tears ran down Eddie’s face. “You think that killing him will bind me to you?”
Creel smiled and touched his cheek softly. “Because if you don’t, you’ll be arrested for the murder Steve Harrington. One word from me and they’ll plant evidence that you killed him.”
“You can take my body,” Eddie said. “But you can’t have my heart or my soul. Steve had both. The band, too. My uncle. That’s what real love looks like. Something you’ll never understand. Everyone is below you and you think you can own every little thing. But you can’t. You’ll never own me.”
“We’ll see,” Creel said leaning closer to kiss him.
Suddenly the all the doors in the hotel room burst open, revealing the FBI and Hellfire Security all with guns drawn. Max and Lucas stood in front of a very much alive Steve Harrington.
Creel whipped around and then looked back at Eddie. “How?!”
Eddie took a step back with a grin. He flipped up his leather jacket’s lapel to reveal a wireless mic. “We knew you’d sweep the room. We also thought that you would search us, but you didn’t do that.”
“We knew you liked brute force,” Steve said from behind his security. “So we knew that you would try to kill me. If you had tried in the bathroom, it might have actually worked because it was harder to get agents in there after you swept the hotel suite. But you went cliche. So thanks for that.”
“What was the gun shot?” Eddie asked, his voice cracking.
Max’s lip curled in distaste. “Pollock over here went for his gun and I had to shoot at his foot as warning.”
Eddie looked down and sure enough one of the goons had a bleeding foot. He looked back up at Steve. “I thought I had lost you, babe.”
Creel grunted from the handcuffs being put on him and said, “You think you’ve won, but this isn’t the last you’ll see of me.”
“Oh it certainly is,” Steve said. “We have you for conspiracy to commit murder, blackmail, and breaking and entering. And that’s just for this conversation. That’s not including the case these boys have been building for years.”
“How did someone like you beat me?” Creel snarled.
“Everyone thinks I’m just a pretty face,” Steve said with a smile. “It makes people underestimate me. A lot.”
Creel struggled to lunge at Steve in anger, but the two agents that held him, kept him in place.
The agents started listing off Creel’s Miranda rights as they led him away. More agents led Castor and Pollock away.
A beat.
Eddie launched himself at Steve and it took every ounce of strength to keep them both on their feet.
“I’m sorry, sunshine,” Steve murmured over and over as he rubbed circles into Eddie’s back. “I’m so sorry. But it worked, baby. We’re safe. We’ll never have to look over our shoulders ever again. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe.”
Max turned to Lucas. “Fine. I’ll marry you.”
Lucas’s jaw dropped. “Wait, are you serious?”
Max rolled her eyes. “Yes. I was watching them and was insanely jealous, wanting what they had for all of two seconds before I realized that I did. With you. So yes, I’ll marry you.”
Lucas let out a breathless laugh and the picked her up, spinning her around. He kiss her soundly and then let her down slowly.
Janice shook her head fondly. “All right, you lovebirds. Let’s get Eddie and Steve to his room. And we’ll reconvene with the band there.”
They all nodded.
Janice led the way with Eddie and Steve in the middle and Lucas and Max bringing up the rear. Eddie and Steve’s hands were clasped tightly together as they made their way through the halls of the hotel to Steve’s room. Janice keyed in her security badge and opened the door to a concerned Corroded Coffin.
“Everyone okay?” Jeff asked, leaping to his feet.
Gareth and Brian were on their feet in moments, too. Suddenly Eddie and Steve were getting dog piled by the band as they all sobbed in relief.
Janice called up her team in LA. “Marty, Vince how goes the lovely ladies?”
Vince, a rather large Pacific Islander who answered her video call, smiled. “They’re doing fine. Right now they’re painting each other’s nails.” He turned the screen so she could see the two women on Steve’s sofa painting each other’s nails.
“Miss Cunningham, Miss Buckley,” he called out behind him. “Janice is on the line, come on over.”
Both women were on their feet in an instant.
“Is Steve okay?”
“How about the boys, are they okay, too?” Chrissy asked as they both tried to crowd Vince out of the frame of the video.
“Everyone is fine,” Janice assured them. “Well, except one goon. He has a newly minted hole in his foot for pissing Max off. But other than that, not so much as a single scratch on the clients.”
Everyone in LA let out a sigh of relief.
“Can we see them?” Robin asked, chewing on her bottom lip.
Janice smiled and turned the phone to show all five men laughing and crying.
“Dingus!” Robin called.
Steve startled at her voice. “Robs?” He made his way over to Janice and peered into her phone. “Robin!”
Robin waved. “I made a new friend!” She waved her hands at Chrissy.
Steve waved back. “Don’t worry, Chrissy. I took good care of your boys. They’re safe and sound.”
Chrissy giggled. “Good job. You treat Eddie right, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Steve said. He took the phone from Janice, who squawked at its removal from her possession.
He ignored her as he brought the phone to where all four Corroded Coffin members were huddled together.
“See?” Steve said as leaned back into Eddie so Chrissy could see all five of them. “I kept them safe,” he whispered.
Chrissy teared up. “You did so good, Stevie. You did good.”
Janice walked over to them. “I have a private plane on standby. So tomorrow morning, we’ll swap Steve for Chrissy. Chrissy, you’ll meet them in Vegas for their next show. And Steve you have to be back for meeting with the record label. Erica called this morning excited about how well your coming out did for her case.”
Every murmured their agreements.
“Good,” Janice said. “I think the boys have a couple of hours before the sound check and will want to be left alone.”
Eddie and Steve blushed while everyone else gave confused noises.
Jeff rolled his eyes when he finally got it. “Don’t fuck too loud, I’m in the room next to yours.”
Eddie and Steve hid in each others shoulders from the sheer embarrassment of it all.
Robin’s mouth formed a soundless, “Oh.”
And suddenly everyone was finding places they had to be. Janice hung with the LA crew and turned to remaining four.
“Max and Lucas will still have to remain outside your door,” Janice reminded them. “So for their sake and Jeff’s, please keep it down.” She waggled her eyebrows at them suggestively.
Steve was mortified and Eddie was subdued. The three security guards exited the room, leaving the two men behind.
Eddie looked around the room to avoid having to look Steve in the eye after that embarrassing display.
“Not a bad room, Stevie,” Eddie said. “Not what I would have chosen, but it’s nice.”
Steve scratched his cheek ruefully. “I don’t usually go for this nice, if I’m honest. I’m too used to the label and my parents bugging it to make sure I didn’t step out of line. I would book a place like this and then go stay a Motel 6 or something.”
Eddie’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, babe. But I’m sure Janice made sure the room was clean before she let you stay here.”
Steve nodded. He had even watched her, but there was still a part of his mind that worried.
“Come here, darlin’,” Eddie cooed, holding out his arms. “We don’t have to do anything right now. Because I don’t think I want to do anything right now but hold you until it’s time for the sound check.”
Steve slumped into his arms as if he was a puppet whose strings had been cut.
They made it to the bed and tumbled into it. They lay there in each other’s arms until it was time for the concert.
*
Steve paused in front of his suitcase. He could wear his usual disguise that he wore to Corroded Coffin concerts, or he could go out and be himself for once.
He chewed his lip nervously before deciding on half of a “disguise”. He pulled out the skin-tight leather pants and chunky boots. He put on a band t-shirt that had the sleeves cut off and the sides hollowed out so that you could see his ribs when he lifted his arms.
He ditched the hat that hid his signature hair and the dark sunglasses. He stepped out of his room with a leather jacket in his hand. He smiled at a passing maid and hopped into the elevator, Max and Lucas trailing behind.
“Is this how you’ve been going their concerts dressed as?” Lucas asked as the elevator took them to the lobby.
Steve nodded. “I cover my hair and keep my head down, and no one has spotted me once.”
Max laughed. “I bet someone did but couldn’t believe pop star Steve Harrington would even like metal so it couldn’t be you.”
Steve grinned. “I’m about to blow my disguise though.”
Lucas laughed. “Yeah, but people think you’re dating Eddie Munson and expect you to be there tonight.”
“And I can��t wait,” Steve said with a wink.
***
Part 14 Part 15 Part 16
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perfectly wrong | #3 moments of weakness
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
chapter summary: Everyone in their lives has moments of weakness. In yours, unfortunately, there are too many of them lately. Too many times they are witnessed by Steve. How is it possible that the person with whom you have hated each other for years is always there for you when you don't want it most?
TW: mentions of: pregnancy, domestic violence, bruises, near death experience
The story is also avaliable on ao3
previous chapter | masterlist | steve harrington masterlist | general masterlist
I'm back to writing! Or at least I'm trying… The recent time in my life has been crazy, still is, and I'm still looking for a way to cope with it, so my writing is still one big question mark. I don't know when I'll write something new, also I don't know what it will be, I was supposed to stick to my "schedule" but for the moment I just write whatever I want at any particular moment. Thank you all for your patience!
Your opinion, feedback, questions or ideas are always welcome! If there is something what would you like to see in the story feel free to tell me about it in comments or in my inbox which is always open for you guys! Thank you so much for reading!
Then...
Your lungs are on fire. You don't know by what miracle you are still able to breathe. You desperately try to catch air while running ahead as fast as you can. Your veins are now filled with pure adrenaline, survival instinct is the only thing keeping you alive. Somewhere in the distance you hear voices. Nancy, Jonathan and Steve are calling your name, but you don't turn toward them. You can't. If you do you'll be dead.
The heavy thud of footsteps behind you begins to drown them out. A large creature is hitting the trees, which you successfully dodge and run between them. The demogorgon is too big and not quite agile to dodge them all, but it can easily climb them and jump from one to another. Tears blur your vision, you stumble over roots sticking out of the ground, branches rubbing against your body. Suddenly you hear a shot. Another one. And another. It must be Nancy, she must have run out of the house with a gun. Suddenly everything around you goes quiet and you slow down. Your breathing is fast, shallow and irregular, your hands are trembling, somewhere in the darkness you try to see the other three teenagers however you do not notice them. Nor do you see the monster whose breath you felt on your neck just a moment ago.
Did Nancy shoot it? Your gaze turns to the ground in search of a huge, slimy body but you don't see that either. That's when something falls on you and squashes you straight into the ground unfolding its mouth and showing thousands of small sharp fangs. A screech from the monster's throat fills the entire area, followed by Nancy screaming your name. Now they are closer. Another three shots, the Demogorgon jumps away from you to the side, but you are unable to move paralyzed by fear. The monster ignored the rest after a while and its attention again focused on your lying body. Seeing him getting ready to attack, Steve didn't think much and with a scream threw himself in your direction covering you with himself. Thus, the claws of the Demogorgon, instead of landing on you, left deep wounds on Steve's back. His body became a shield, stained with red, hot blood. His pain-filled cry brought you back to earth. You opened wide your eyes, which until then you had clenched with all your strength to see tears of pain running down his cheeks. The expression on his face was terrible. In the meantime, Jonathan grabbed a baseball bat with nails stuck in it, and Nancy once again started shooting at the monster, which suddenly turned around and ran off into the woods. This time something else began to press down on you. It was Steve's lifeless body.
"Help him." your voice was quiet and squeaky, they didn't hear you at first. "Steve." you said louder. "Steve!" only now they finished looking around and both of them ran up to you.
Moments later, Hopper and Joyce appeared by your side. Jim, together with Jonathan, picked up a semi-conscious Steve and led him to the car. You picked yourself up from the ground and started to follow them. He couldn't die. Not that way, certainly not by trading his life for yours. Ignoring the calls of Nancy and Joyce you followed them slowly losing your balance. The world around you whirled until finally everything was completely shrouded in darkness.
When you woke up the first thing that came out of your mouth was his name. Joyce tried to explain that the situation was under control, that he had lost a lot of blood, but the situation was stable and probably not life-threatening, but that wasn't enough. You insisted that you had to see him, you had to see with your own eyes that he was fine.
Still a little wobbly, with Joyce's help, you entered the room, which was opposite yours. Steve was lying on his stomach, and his back was covered with bandages, right next to him stood a half-empty IV. Next to him on plastic chairs sat Will and Dustin, who sent you weak smiles as they left the room. Steve watched with a poker face as you took the seat where Will was just a moment ago.
"You-you saved my life." you said quietly breaking the silence filled with tension. The bland, emotionless expression on his face did not change. He also did not answer anything, so you tried to continue.
"Thank you…"
"Get out." he interrupted you.
"W-what?" you might have expected such a reaction; after all, you hadn't been able to look at each other for several months, and when you had to, neither of you spared any insults. But if he hated you why did he save you? You thought this was a moment where you would put all hatred aside, that maybe this meant you would be able to get back to at least tolerating each other. You thought that this moment of weakness between you would be able to change the direction of your "relationship". You were wrong.
"Are you deaf?" he growled. "Get the fuck out of here!"
Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nodded and left as he told you to. You had to accept that it was time to forget everything that had been between you, or rather, what hadn't been, but only had a chance to be. You had to accept that Steve Harrington hates you. You had to hate him too.
Now...
Steve was not used to days off, especially now. His thoughts always seemed to be too loud, but at the moment, as dusk was falling over Hawkins and everything seemed to quiet down around him, they were becoming unbearable. He would definitely rather be sitting in the hospital now on the night shift than staring blankly at the TV screen. He also tried to study for his exams, however, he couldn't focus on anything, and the letters switching places didn't help him at all. Annoyed, he got up, grabbed his car keys and walked out of the house with a quick step.
The streets of the town were quiet, most people had long ago been sitting locked in their homes, with only a few in some places walking their dogs. A strange nostalgia swept over him as he began to contemplate what it would be like to have a home. Steve only had a house. A big, empty cold house in which he never felt comfortable. What would it be like to sit at the table with someone, eat a warm meal and talk about how the day had gone? On a slow day, take an old puzzle or board game out of the closet and spend time together? Dustin and Eddie invited him to Hellfire many times, but each time he tried everything seemed too complicated. Steve was not alone. But sometimes he felt lonely, even though he has a lot of people who love him in their weird ways. Robin, Eddie and the kids bring pure chaos into his life, but he will do anything to keep that chaos going. Unfortunately, despite how hard they try to fill the void in his life, something is still missing. Something that would make him feel a pleasant, welcoming warmth upon entering the grand mansion.
Not thinking much about the direction he was going he arrived on the outskirts of Hawkins. The area used to be very quiet and peaceful, the residents here being mostly retirees. But when Trailer Park was demolished by the opening of the gates, those who lost their homes that night and had no way to leave town moved here as well.
That's when he spotted a familiar silhouette in the distance. A silhouette that he would have recognized even in the darkest place in the world, a silhouette that he had hated for so many years that every detail of it was carved into his brain. He knew perfectly which clothes were your favorite, could easily tell when there were days you were too tired to put conditioner on your hair, and guessed by the color you used on your nails what mood you were in. He knew when your smile was genuine, and when you were smiling at Dustin's jokes, just so he wouldn't get sad. He knew how to tell when you were feeling anxious, he knew every little sign you had. Without knowing how, somewhere in all the chaos of hatred, Steve Harrington knew you like the back of his own hand, because every time he sent you murderous glances, he also observed you. He had been observing too long and too many times not to know all this now.
You walked along with Travis with your eyes stuck in the sidewalk. He was saying something to you however you did not respond. There was a complete lack of response on your part. At one point he stopped for a moment, and you, paying no attention at all, took a few steps forward. Then suddenly he firmly grabbed you by the arm and jerked pulling you towards him. Surprised and thrown off balance you tripped over your own feet and fell into him. Now he clamped both hands tightly on your shoulders and shook you. Terrified, you watched as he said something again, your big eyes after a moment began to look everywhere but at him. Then you noticed the familiar BMW, and behind the wheel Steve who was gripping the steering wheel with his hands so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The sight of him paralyzed you even more.
"Are you fucking listening to me?" Travis hissed through his teeth. Your gaze immediately returned to him.
"Y-yes." you said. "Let me go, people are looking out the window."
"I don't give a shit about them, I'm just teaching you that you should respect me and what I say to you." His fingers dug into your arms, and the grimace of pain did not make the squeeze soften.
"Hey!" at the sound of Steve's voice your heart sped up twice as hard. Travis quickly let you go and turned toward him.
"What are you looking for here Harrington?" he asked.
"Robin needs help at work and asked me to come get y/n, there are two hours left until closing time and there's so many people she can't handle herself."
Still motionless you looked at him wondering what he really wanted. You knew that Robin was also off today, but still you didn't deny it right away.
"What are you waiting for?!" Travis growled. Your extra hours at work meant more alcohol money for him, so your not going there would cause another argument.
Without a word, you nodded and quickly walked away with Steve toward his car. He was able to tell that you were feeling insecure, so when you both locked your doors and buckled your seatbelts he spoke up first.
"I lied." he said with a heavy sigh.
"I know, Robin is off today." You replied turning your head toward the window.
"Where do you want to go?" Without a word you shrugged your shoulders. The very fact that you were now trapped in the car with him occupied your head enough. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't get out of it because Travis was still watching you.
At first he actually led the way straight to Family Video, but he didn't stop at the parking lot, he just bypassed it by driving on. Without a word, you watched as you drove out of Hawkins. You had no idea where he was taking you however for some unknown reason you felt no danger in doing so. Steve could only hurt with words, he would never in his life do you any physical harm. Finally driving through the woods you arrived at a viewpoint above Hawkins. The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon, leaving you alone under the cover of a cloudless, starry sky and the twinkling lights from a town that now seemed miniature in the distance.
Without waiting for him to turn off the engine, you got out of the car and sat down on a small wooden bench, where he joined you a moment later.
"Can we talk?" he asked quietly.
"About what? About how much you hate me? About how much you regret saving my life?" you began reproachfully.
"Y/n…" he sighed. He had always perceived you as one of the strongest in the entire group, but now he saw that this strength had long disappeared. Now in front of him sat a person exhausted by a life that every now and then was giving her new problems. You were balancing over an abyss, not knowing at what point something would overload you. After all the hatred that was between you, he did not want to witness this fall.
"Don't worry, you're not alone in all this." you reflected. "I think hating me is the only thing we have in common." a sad smile appeared on your face.
"Why do you take everything as an attack? Why doesn't it reach you that I really want to help you?!" he asked irritated.
"Maybe it's hard for me to understand because for the past years you have done nothing but prove to me that you hate me!" you burst out.
"Not to mention the moments when you also don't hide how regretful you are that you saved my life!"
"And I am sorry!" he yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Your apologies don't change anything Steve! You only say that because you feel sorry for me, if you didn't know about this whole situation you would never change a damn thing!"
He opened his mouth to reply something however no word left them. You were right. If it weren't for the fact that he accidentally discovered the whole truth, he probably wouldn't even feel bad about how you treat each other. However, it was this whole situation that opened his eyes to your relationship. He has thought about it too many times over the past few days, and vice versa, he hasn't found an answer to the question that doesn't give him peace of mind. Where did your hatred really come from?
Still with his mouth open, he watched you get up from the bench and walk over to the barrier leaning against it and burying your face in your hands. The unbuttoned sleeves of your flannel shirt slid down revealing your bruised hands, at the sight of which his heart clenched. It was one thing to have wounds left behind after fighting monsters from the alternative dimension, and another to have visible signs of domestic violence. No one deserved it.
"Can we just pretend that we don't hate each other? This one time." he said walking up to you. "Talk to me please…" that tone again. That gentle caring tone that makes you feel like crying, that makes you feel like letting him take care of you, that you hate so much because it makes you feel weak.
"What do you want to know?" you asked, raising your head to look at the sky. No matter the scale of the tragedy happening in people's lives, the sky always remained beautiful.
"Does anyone else know about this?" was the first thing that came to mind.
"No. Just you and the nurses at the hospital. I know they don't believe me, the biggest idiot wouldn't believe me with all these stupid stories." You shook your head.
"For how long he- How long has it been going on?"
"Two years."
"Why didn't you run away?" he asked in disbelief. You had been going through hell at home for two years, even before the final battle with Vecna. He already knew why you dropped everything to be by Max's side 24 hours a day. In addition to fearing for her safety, it was the perfect excuse to get away from him.
"Where would I run away to, Steve?" you finally looked at him. Your eyes were full of pain however you did not cry. "To live on the street? I have no one to run away to, my parents are dead, and the only family I know lives at the other end of America. To escape you need money. I had been saving for a long time, but then I found out I was pregnant, so I needed even more. I sold everything I had from my parents, and he just took everything-" you stopped talking. You had the feeling that the world had gone crazy. Of all the people in the world, Steve Harrington was the only one you could talk to about the mess you had in your life. Why did fate hate you so much?
"Did he force you into something?" he asked, clasping his hands tightly around the railing. You looked at him. His jaw was clenched. You were not at all surprised that he thought that. It made you even more ashamed to tell the truth.
"No." you mouthed to yourself. "It was- It was just a moment of weakness." Every minute you hated even more that he was the only person you could talk to about it. You hated yourself even more for wanting to tell him all about it in that moment. "It was right after I left the hospital. When I came back, the whole house was cleaned up like never before. There was no trace of bottles or other crap. That night he made dinner for us, apologized for his behavior, promised that he would change, and I- and I believed him.
"Oh my God." he rubbed his face with his hand.
"All this damn time I felt so lonely, so desperate for any kind of warmth, closeness! S-so it happened. I let him in, and all the beautiful cover he created fell away a week later and everything went back to the old way. All because of a damn moment of weakness."
"I am so sorry, y/n…" he reached out his hand in your direction as if he wanted to offer you comfort, but you immediately took a step back.
This was another moment of weakness in your life. The fact that you are telling him about it now. You've had too many moments like this with him in the past, and even though you promised yourself each time that it would never happen again, you never knew how to stop yourself. No matter how fucked up things became in your life, you didn't know how Steve Harrington always found his place in it, making you feel like you were losing control even more. You hated him a lot more for that. You hated the fact that you couldn't stop yourself from all these moments of weakness every time.
Letting him comfort you now would be another one you would regret. Even his intentions towards you were sincere and he wanted to help, he was still a man who had done nothing but spit venom in your direction over the past years. So you stepped back, protecting yourself from something you were desperate for.
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#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x female reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#stranger things steve#fanfiction#fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington enemies to lovers#corrodedseraphine#corrodedseraphine fanfiction#ao3 fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#corrodedseraphine perfectly wrong#nurse!steve harrington
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MWMD - Kiss My Lips
Steve Harrington X Virgin!Eddie Munson
Summary: It's the Fourth of July -- Steve and Eddie have a bit too much to drink, and have some fun playing party games.
Word Count: 4.4K
Chapter: 4 of 6 CHAPTER LIST
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Content Warnings: Explicit m/m sexual content including… Virgin Eddie Munson, Dry Humping, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Minor Crossdressing (ahem, EDDIE WEARS A G-STRING), Oh no they’re both tops?! what will they do!!?!, Top Steve Harrington, Power Bottom Eddie Munson, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Nipple Clamps, Under-Negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, Creampie. Underage Drinking and Recreational Drug Use.
Tags: Eddie Munson lives, 5 + 1 Things, slow burn, POV Eddie Munson, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Caretaking, Massages, Sharing a Bed, House Party, Play Flighting, Bros Being Bros (JK it’s very homoerotic), Halloween, Boys in Makeup, Independence Day, New Years Eve, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending
Many Ways, Many Days, to Say ‘I Love You’
July 4th, 1986
Everyone’s a little drunk already.
By everyone, Eddie means the only adults the gang really knows. He’s brought along Gareth and Jeff, who are absolutely beside themselves that they get to hang out at King Steve’s house. Robin has brought Vickie as her definitely not date. Jonathan has brought Argyle who Eddie already considers one of his new favourite people. Or maybe his mortal enemy. He’s not sure.
Eddie half expects Steve to have some girl attached to his hip since he hasn’t exactly been getting lucky since all but moving into his trailer. It would be one of Steve’s only chances, seeing as his parents have gone on some fancy business trip for Fourth of July weekend and he’s offered his house as tribute for a (kind of sad) rager.
But there is no girl that Steve has invited, at least not yet, and Eddie is more than okay with that. This way, he won’t have to pretend not to be jealous. And he won’t have to think about Steve’s dick being inside whoever’s pussy the next time it’s pressed against his own in the middle of the night.
It’s the first time Eddie has been invited to one of Harrington’s parties, and he’d be lying if he said he isn’t a little bit excited about it. Maybe King Steve is falling from his throne, but Eddie seems to be climbing the ranks. Maybe they’ll eventually meet somewhere in the middle.
Steve is currently lining up shots on the edge of his fancy, built-in kitchen island while Robin watches over his shoulder.
“Ugh, I hate tequila,” Robin says, scrunching her nose while Steve gets the saltshaker.
“Then don’t drink any.” Steve slices a lime into halves, and then into quarters, and then into eighths. He scans a few faces, and then his gaze lands on none other than Eddie’s. “You’ll do some shots with me, won’t you, Eds?”
Eds. Eds.
He barks out a startled laugh that Gareth raises an eyebrow at. Eddie smacks him in the arm before joining Steve by the island. Drinking had never been Eddie’s thing, mostly because he can’t afford that and weed. But he’s at a Harrington house party. When in Rome and all that.
“How’s this work then?”
“You’ve never done a tequila shot before?��
“Of course I have, Harrington. I’m not fucking twelve.” Eddie scoffs. He’s lying. “I just can’t remember the order.”
“Lick, shoot, suck,” says Steve, pointing first to the salt, then to the shot glasses, then to the lime slices. “Lick the salt, shoot the tequila, suck the lime.”
“What do I lick the salt off of?” Eddie asks.
“That’s the fun part.” Steve takes the saltshaker in his hands. “You can be boring and lick it off your own hand. Or –” he peels his dumb, striped polo off from his shoulders. This time Eddie doesn’t even pretend to look away. He’s already had a few beers, “– you can do a body shot.”
Eddie stares at Steve’s bare chest, made of all muscle and hair and sun-kissed skin. He lets his gaze fall to Steve’s navel where – rhetorically – he’d be taking the shot from.
“I…” he makes a kind of choking sound, then clears his throat, “I never back down from a challenge?” It comes out as more of a question, but honestly, Eddie is just glad he’s able to form words.
Steve’s face splits into a crooked smirk. He cups his hand over his mouth and swiftly turns to face the living room where most people are loitering around. “BODY SHOTS!”
There are a few whoops that come from probably Argyle and Jeff (who’s clearly gotten comfortable with the other guests). And suddenly, they have an audience.
“Alright, Eds and I are going first, because I want to be the one to pop his tequila cherry –”
“I’ve had tequila before!”
“Yeah, okay, whatever, man. We’re going first because Eddie is an expert at tequila body shots –”
“You’re such a prick.”
“– and we have to teach all you losers how to do it properly. Capiche?”
Everyone is gathered around the kitchen now. And to Eddie’s surprise, Steve heads for the giant oak table in the dining room. He steps onto one of the matching chairs, and then plunks his ass down on the tabletop. Steve twists to his back, his head propped up with his hands, and a shit-eating grin plastered to his features like it’s now a permanent fixture of his face.
“Go ahead, Munson. Show them how it’s done.” Steve finally shuts up when he clamps down on the peel side of a slice of lime.
Fuck.
Eddie is making a fool of himself already, and he hasn’t even started… whatever this is.
Robin saves his ass. She grabs the tequila bottle and flings the cap into the unknown. “I hope you washed your belly button, dude,” she says before pouring the liquor into Steve’s navel. It overflows a bit, dripping down his ridiculously pronounced obliques. “Where do you want to lick the salt from?”
It takes a second for Eddie to realise that Robin is talking to him. “Is his cock an okay answer?”
Just kidding. Eddie doesn’t say that.
Instead, he says, “I don’t know. Wherever is the least hairy. It’s hard enough not to gag on tequila as it is,” like he hasn’t fantasized a million times about pressing his face, his nose, his tongue, into every enticing patch of Steve’s hair, from his head down to his fuzzy calves.
Steve rolls his eyes and points to the dip under his ribcage where the skin is relatively smooth, compared. Robin wastes no time sprinkling salt onto that area. And then Steve is prepped, and all eyes are on Eddie. He kind of wants to die, but if he was dead he wouldn’t be five seconds away from getting his tongue onto Steve fucking Harrington. So in conclusion, he’s actually very, very thankful to be alive.
Eddie eyes up Steve’s body, plotting the easiest plan of attack. He decides he might as well commit since he’s already entirely mortified, so he hikes himself up on the table so he’s straddling Harrington’s thighs. Everyone starts hooting and hollering. Nancy is giggling behind her palm while Argyle is slowly nodding with a joint tucked behind his ear. Robin’s hands smack over her eyes but she peeks out from between her fingers. Gareth nudges Jeff’s shoulder like they know something, so Eddie throws them daggers with his gaze.
It takes Eddie a second to steel himself, but soon he musters enough courage to bend himself over Steve, who immediately starts giggling when Eddie licks a fat stripe over his salty skin. As Steve laughs, tequila sloshes around on his abdomen. So Eddie presses his palms into Steve’s hips to still them. He might be imagining it, but it sounds like Steve sucks in a sharp breath.
Which really just encourages Eddie.
He buries his fingers into the flesh of Steve’s hips (because he might as well while he’s here) and tucks his head low to suck the bitter liquid from Steve’s navel. He dips his tongue in there, too – he just can’t help himself – which makes Steve squirm under his body. The button of his jeans rub against Eddie’s chin and it takes everything inside of himself not to nip at Steve’s skin and trail his mouth lower.
He knows that’s not really body shot etiquette even though this is the first ever body shot he’s ever done.
Finally, Eddie crawls up the length of Steve’s body and hovers his mouth over the slice of lime that’s still being held between Steve’s teeth. But he pauses, because Steve is staring straight into Eddie’s soul, with lidded eyes and pupils blown. Maybe it’s in Eddie’s head but it really looks like Steve is turned on, but no, that doesn’t make sense because Steve is straight, and Eddie is pretty sure he’s not a girl.
Well, he does have feminine features, like his long hair and his big eyes, and his full lips which are actually kind of an insecurity because his upper lip is bigger than his lower lip, and he always thought that was weird. But maybe that’s why Steve looks like this – like he’s about to drag Eddie up to his abandoned bedroom – because he’s drunk and Eddie kinda sorta looks like a girl.
Whatever. Eddie will take it.
He brackets his arms around Steve’s shoulders as he bends down to bite the wedge of lime from between Steve’s teeth. It’s really lodged in there, and Steve isn’t exactly making it easy to pry it from his mouth, so Eddie seals his lips into the pulp, trying to suck the juice back from right there, in Steve’s mouth. The lime bursts sour liquid that squirts into Eddie’s mouth and dribbles down Steve’s chin, and Eddie nearly chases that with his tongue too, but ultimately decides against it since he’s already pushed the limits enough.
“It’s so wrong, but I can’t look away.” Robin’s voice pries Eddie from his revery. He sits back up, spine rod straight, to shoot her a look and point a finger into her face.
“Can it, Buckley.”
“Yeah, Eddie, how come you’ve never sucked tequila from my stomach?” Gareth barks a laugh, but then the girl that Nancy brought with her – Eddie forgets her name, but it’s some chick that ran the school paper – turns to Eddie’s friend.
“I’ll do it.”
That wipes the grin straight from Gareth’s face, replaced by a healthy flush beneath his cheeks. The whole group is then in an uproar, pointing to each other, and laughing, and separating into pairs to do body shots of their own. Only then does Eddie remember that he’s straddling Steve when he feels him wiggle beneath his thighs.
“Um, Eddie?”
“Oh, shit.” Eddie clambers from the table ungracefully as ever, lucky to land on his feet. “Sorry. Sorry, Harrington.”
Steve sits up, wiping his mouth of lime juice with the back of his hand before giving Eddie a mischievous look. “All good, man. Let’s get some more drinks.”
Steve grabs Eddie’s hand (like, he actually holds it for a minute, like he did in the hospital all those months ago) as he drags him to the counter with all the liquor. And there they do shot after shot until Eddie can’t down anymore without gagging it back up. But he does crack open a beer, and so does Steve, and they head to the living room while everyone else is screaming when Nancy sucks a shot of tequila from Robin’s navel.
Vickie looks a bit jealous, but Eddie averts his gaze before he can read too much into it.
“Holy shit,” Steve says, falling into the plush cushions of his parents’ couch. “I’m so drunk. I haven’t been this drunk in… forever.”
It’s not hard to believe, because Steve is slurring his words and each time he blinks his eyes it seems like it takes all of his energy to open them again. The room is spinning a bit, and Eddie realizes that he, too, is way more drunk than he’d been in a while.
“Same. But you know what would make it even better?” He pulls a joint from his crumby pocket and waggles his brows at Steve.
“Oh, man.” Steve slings his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “I knew there was a reason I love you.”
Eddie tries not to think too hard about that, and instead drags Steve up off the couch and out the door that leads to his pool. He digs around in his pocket until he finds a fluorescent orange lighter, and then he sparks it up.
The first drag burns deep, calming the excited, jittery nerves that he’s had all evening for some reason (his crush on Steve). He takes one more, then hands the spliff off. Steve takes a hit and lets his head loll backwards on his shoulders as he hums a noise of approval.
“Fuucckk,” he moans, making the little hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stand on end. It shouldn’t sound so damn pornographic, but it does. Eddie’s been fighting off a boner all evening and the noises that Harrington makes is what finally takes the cake. He wishes he could readjust his dick in his too-tight jeans without being obvious about it but alas, he cannot. So he just lets his cock fill out as he breathes through it, and hopes that Steve doesn’t let his gaze fall below Eddie’s belt.
“You make it sound like that joint is better than sex, Harrington.”
“Yeah, well it might be.” Steve opens his eyes as he takes another puff and then hands it over to Eddie. “Not that I can remember, it’s been so long since I’ve gotten any.”
Eddie snorts and averts his gaze, sucking back on the roach in his fingers.
“What about you?”
Eddie looks back at Steve. “What about me?”
“When’s the last time you fucked someone?” Steve asks, unabashed. “Or, I don’t know. Got fucked by someone.”
Blood rushes around Eddie’s body, not sure if it wants to settle in his ears, or his cheeks, or his dick. But there seems to be plenty of it, because all three are getting a fresh supply. “Oh. I – uh. It’s been – you know. A while.”
Ever?
“Uhuh.” Steve nods. “So, when was it?”
“C’mon, man.” Eddie laughs nervously, snubbing out the joint on Harrington’s parents’ landing. “I haven’t – I mean. It’s been, a reeeaally long time for me.”
Twenty years.
Steve narrows his eyes, catching onto something Eddie isn’t sure he really wants him to. “Are you saying you’re like… a virgin?”
“No!” Eddie lies, crossing his arms defensively. He huffs out an embarrassed breath. “Well, maybe? When you’re gay, virginity isn’t exactly as black and white –”
He cuts himself off.
He just said that, in real words, out loud, in English. He just said he’s gay. And he also kind of admitted he’s a virgin, and Eddie doesn’t know which is worse. Maybe Steve is too drunk to realise? But no, he’s not, Steve still has his general wits about him and he’s looking at Eddie with such an intensity that Eddie feels like he’s about to get punched. Or maybe kissed?
Probably the former.
Steve doesn’t do either. He doesn’t even dwell on the elephant in the room. He just says, “Huh. So what have you done?”
Eddie feels the tension in his shoulders relax a bit. Maybe he’s okay, but it’s better safe than sorry. He tells himself that he’ll keep his words genderless, so he doesn’t out himself by accident a second time.
“I don’t know. A handjob here, a blowjob there.” The second thing is another lie, but admitting he’s only had one handjob seems more embarrassing than just being a virgin, period. He shrugs. “Believe it or not, when you’re a threepeat senior, and the Dungeon Master of a D&D club, you’re not exactly swimming in opportunities, Steve.”
Steve takes a step towards Eddie, which just makes Eddie believe that he really mustn’t have heard the gay thing. Because why would he be crowding his face into Eddie’s like this? Why would he be getting so damn close if he knew Eddie was into dudes?
“You’re a good-looking guy,” Steve says, cocking his head to one side and letting his gaze slowly trail down Eddie’s body like he’s appraising him for value. “Maybe you’re just not searching hard enough?”
Eddie makes a noise, something like a squeak, or a hiccup. He’s about to say something – anything – but before he can form words, Robin comes rushing out from the sliding doors. “We’re playing spin the bottle! Come on, it’s gonna be so fun.”
“Yeah, coming, Rob.” Steve takes a step away from Eddie. Smiles. “Maybe we’ll be able to get some action now. Let’s go.”
Eddie hopes that his blush isn’t all that visible, but he knows with his white-ass skin he’ll be stained up with splashes of pink watercolour. He kind of wants to sit this one out, because he’s sure that nobody wants to kiss The Freak of Hawkins High (even if they are all friends now).
He’s never once wished in his life to kiss Gareth or Jeff, but here he is, hoping that when he spins, the bottle will at least land on one of them to spare himself having to see the disgust in someone else’s face.
Everyone inside is already forming themselves into a loose circle. There’s enough space for Eddie and Steve to cram themselves between Argyle and Nancy. There’s an empty brown bottle in the middle that Robin is immediately taking hold of. “It was my idea, so I get to go first! And no copouts. Whoever it lands on, it lands on.”
She gives the bottle a good crank, and it ominously spins and spins, and eventually slows. The neck is pointing towards Jeff, who blushes, and Eddie feels a little bad for him because he definitely doesn’t know Robin is queerer than a three-dollar bill. He has a feeling he’ll be hearing Jeff talk about the pretty girl from the party for the next couple of months until he realises for himself that nothing is going to happen.
Robin grins and leans forward on her knees. Jeff meets her halfway. They smack a quick but playful kiss against each other’s lips right in the centre of the circle, and everyone cheers. Eddie catches himself grinning, too.
Jeff smiles his dopey little smile that Eddie kind of loves (but he’d never admit to it), and he grabs hold of the bottle next. It spins, and lands on Gareth. Eddie finds himself laughing aloud, clapping his hands together and chanting some sarcastically encouraging words.
Gareth grabs Jeffs cheeks and smooshes them together, and then plants a fat kiss to his forcefully puckered lips. Everyone in the circle laughs. “I know, I know,” says Gareth. “Here to rock everyone’s world.”
Eddie is still very much drunk, so he says, “Yeah? Make sure it lands on me and share some of that sugar.” He’s never said anything like that in his life, and as soon as he hears himself, he cringes. Beside him, Steve kind of furrows his brows and shifts around.
Maybe he is a little bit uncomfortable with gay things.
The whole circle is giggling when Gareth spins the bottle. It doesn’t land on Eddie, but the girl from earlier. Gareth looks all flustered again, and Eddie feels soft for a minute. He hopes that maybe something could come out of all this. It’s about time that one of them gets to start having sex.
The girl leans forward first. Gareth crawls on his knees and lets her press her lips into his. It’s a softer kiss than all the others – Robin and Nance coo while Eddie makes a dramatic gagging sound.
“Shut up, man!” Gareth tosses his empty beer can at Eddie’s head. The girl laughs and spins the bottle. It lands back on Gareth. The room erupts in cheers when they go in for their second kiss. It’s more confident that the first and Eddie feels like he’s witnessing something a little bit too personal. Gareth goes next, and it lands on Steve. “Pucker up, your highness.”
Eddie isn’t sure what he expects. Maybe for Steve to cringe or look mildly horrified. But he’s grinning a genuine grin, all crooked and happy like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Eddie is also ferociously jealous. Even though he knows both Gareth and Steve are straight.
Steve grabs Gareth’s head and smacks an aggressive but quick kiss to his lips. Gareth fakes a shudder. “C’mon, man,” Steve says. “Tell me that didn’t make you want to cream your pants.”
“That didn’t make me want to cream my pants.” Gareth rolls his eyes. “Guess I’m immune to the Harrington charm.”
“What a shame. Hopefully whoever it lands on actually wants a piece of this.”
“I’m pretty sure nobody here wants you, Steve,” says Robin. Steve sticks his tongue out at her, and she does it right back.
Eddie almost says that she couldn’t be more wrong, but he’s sober enough to keep his lips sealed.
Steve reaches down, grabs the neck of the bottle, cranks it to the side. It spins and it spins, and by some divine intervention or maybe some cosmic joke, it lands on Eddie.
His ears are ringing, but it’s not quite enough to drown out Robin’s laughing. “Part two to the show we got earlier!”
“Yeah, come on! Lay one on him!” says Gareth. Eddie whips his head to the side, hopefully looking at him with a menacing warning, but something tells him the only thing in his eyes is fear and want.
Eddie barely has time to think, let alone form a witty response, before Steve is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him towards him. “Pucker up, baby.”
There are a few things that go through Eddie’s head in that moment.
First: Steve just called Eddie baby, and as one might guess, it definitely makes his dick jump in his pants. He’s embarrassed by how often that happens now, but there’s only so much he can do about it. And if Steve insists on always being so frustratingly sexy, it’s just something Eddie is going to have to get used to.
Second: That look is back in Steve’s eyes. The one that makes Eddie think he might actually want to be kissing him, like Steve’s glad that the bottle pointed towards him. Half-lidded gaze focused on Eddie’s lips, meanwhile his own tongue is wetting his, and fuck –
Third: Steve is kissing him. But it’s not like all of the other kisses of the evening, Eddie would like to point out. No, this one is very different. Because it’s lasting a lot longer than a second or two. It’s lasting – God – it’s lasting forever, and Eddie is vaguely aware that people are cheering. And then – Eddie shits you not – Steve’s lips part and Eddie just follows along, because what else is he supposed to do? So now their lips are slotted and moving together and Steve’s tongue fucking rubs against Eddie’s lower lip.
This is when Eddie realises he’s been holding his breath, so he pulls away from Steve out of instinct for air, not because he wants it to stop, and then everything kind of zeros back into reality that he’s at a party and he’s definitely trying to turn what’s supposed to be an innocent game of spin the bottle into a full-on make out session with Steve fucking Harrington. So instead of leaning back in to continue like he wants to, he just shakes his head and clears his throat, and says, “Jesus,” because it seems like an appropriate response.
“Wow.” Robin’s eyes are big, staring at Eddie and Steve with a sidelong gaze like she’s embarrassed for them. “That definitely bumped up this game from general audience.”
The whole circle laughs, and Eddie blushes, and he very pointedly does not look at Steve before he takes his turn. It lands on Nancy, and it’s a little weird to kiss her but it’s definitely not like the kiss he and Steve just shared. But he can see Steve staring from his peripheral vision and he battles everything in himself to look back because he knows he won’t be able to look Steve in the eye and not at his mouth.
The game continues for another fifteen minutes before people start getting up to refresh their drinks, and others get bored, and it just naturally fizzles out.
Eddie keeps sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Steve, who’s in some heated discussion with Jeff about six versus eight cylinder motors that Eddie knows absolutely nothing about. He toys with his empty can of beer, until there’s a hand on his knee.
It’s Steve’s.
“Can I get you another drink, man?” he asks, and Eddie just nods. Steve takes his empty can and brings him a fresh one, and Eddie decides that it’ll be the last drink of the night because his mind has been plotting about how to get Steve to kiss him again, which is a pretty good sign that he needs to stop.
The party wraps up at about one in the morning. Some people take cabs, others ride their bikes, some parents even come to pick up their children.
Eddie stays, because why wouldn’t he?
He and Steve half clean up, throwing the empty cans and bottles into bags, tossing the cardboard pizza boxes into the recycling after wrapping the leftovers and putting them in the fridge.
When it’s time for bed, Eddie eyes the spare rooms in the hall and wonders if that’s where he’s supposed to go, but Steve speaks up before he has a chance to dwell too long. “C’mon, man. My room is this one.”
Eddie follows Steve into his room, and watches as Steve strips down to his boxers. It shouldn’t be weirder than it normally is, but Eddie is very aware that this is an entirely different situation because at his trailer, his bed is the only option. Here, though, there are several, and Steve is still inviting Eddie to sleep next to him like it’s the only thing that makes sense, when really he’s having a whole internal crisis about it.
But Eddie tries not to think about it too hard, even though it’s kind of too late, and he undressed and follows Steve into his giant bed. Steve scootches closer and slots their legs together while they’re still awake. And fuck, they both have semis. Eddie feels like he wants to unpack that a bit, but instead he tells himself not to overthink it.
By the time Steve is sleeping, Eddie is leaking in his boxers, and he condemns himself for doing this but he really has no choice. He goes to Steve’s attached bathroom and he rubs one out, he comes to the thought of Steve’s lips and his tongue and his half-hard cock that he felt on his thigh. He comes hard, and he tries to aim it for the toilet, but it flies everywhere. So he spends a few minutes cleaning up after himself, ashamed. Satiated.
He crawls back into bed with Steve and hisses a bit when Steve’s thigh slots between his and rubs against his over-sensitive dick.
And maybe Eddie’s imagining it, he probably is, but it sounds like Steve huffs out a small laugh.
He really hopes he’s imagining it.
NEXT CHAPTER
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