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#silver Steve wasn’t always silver
matchingbatbites · 9 months
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"What the fuck did you do?"
Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.
"Well-"
"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"
Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.
“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”
“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”
No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-
He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.
The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since. 
Jesus Christ.
“Eddie?”
The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”
In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄
”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“
Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-
He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.
”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.
“Eddie, what-
”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“
Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious. 
Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.
Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.
With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-
Anything other than what Steve actually sent.
'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'
And Eddie- 
Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath. 
Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?
This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.
‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’
He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.
‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’
Fuck fuck fuck.
Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’
Steve saves him by sending another message.
‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’
He- What-
Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.
There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.
‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’
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itsthewritergal · 2 months
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Just let me go - Bucky Barnes x reader
Okay this one is ANGSTTYYY Also there will be a part two! Posted tomorrow :)
TW: kidnapping, swearing, suicidal thoughts, guns, angst, sadness, suicidal ideation, also I haven't proof read this aha I'm sorry!!
“Sergeant Barnes, there is someone here to see you” One of the agent said as they stepped into the training room, 
“Who?” Bucky replied curtly, being halfway through a session with Nat he didn’t exactly want to be interrupted no matter who it was 
“I don’t know but she looks upset, if I was you I’d be worried” the agent said with a laugh, making a few of the other trainee’s laugh 
“Don’t forget your rank” Bucky said bluntly, 
“Sorry Sargent Barnes” The agent said, 
“You can start sparring, I’ll be back soon and I expect to see some improvements from yesterday” Nat said following Bucky out the room, 
“Who do you think it is?” Nat asked 
“I don’t know” Bucky said 
“What about that girl you went out with the other night?” 
“I don’t think she’d come here” Bucky said with a huff, “she didn’t like me” he said 
“Ooh what about the girl from Tony’s party?” Nat suggested, it sounded as though the idea of Bucky having a girl round was entertaining to her, Bucky narrowed his eyes at Nat, 
“No” He said bluntly, 
“Tensions killing me” Nat said with a dry laugh 
“Come on Nat, leave it alone” he said, turning the corner to the common room, he stopped immediately his breath hitching in his throat for a split second, 
“Y/N?” Nat beamed running over to give her a hug almost knocking her off of her feet “It’s been like a year since I saw you!” She grinned, 
“Hey Nat” She said gently, 
“You have to stay for dinner, Wanda’s cooking, she’ll want to see you. So will Steve, and Tony, oh and Sam!” She said “I’ll text them all now, they’ll set up a place for you” 
“Nat, I don’t think—” Y/N started 
“I don’t want to hear it, you’re staying” She said pulling out her phone and quickly tapping a message, 
“Y/N” Bucky said bluntly, his voice void of all emotions. 
“Hey” Y/N cut herself off unsure of what to call him so deciding against calling him anything,  her eyes wandered to his arm,  “the black and gold suits you” She said softly “Always said silver wasn’t your colour” 
“Shuri agreed with you” Bucky nodded
An uncomfortable silence settled across the two of them, 
“I should go” She said quickly, 
“Why did you come?” He asked a part of him not wanting her to disappear, not again 
“I, uh I found, I found this”  Y/N said her cheeks flushing red as she passed Bucky a t-shirt, one that he had forgotten about, but it certainly looked more worn now than how he remembered it. His heart squeezed at the thought of her wearing it after everything
“This is why you came?” Bucky said 
“You’re right, it was stupid. I’m gonna go” Y/N said quickly,  shaking her head as she turned, Bucky knew how she felt. He had imaged many times making an excuse to go and see her, he just didn’t think she was the kind of person to go through with it. 
“Y/N! Oh my, Nat said you were here. I’ve just laid the table dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes which is just long enough for you to catch me up on your life! Sorry Buck, but she’s with me until dinner. Then you can have her back” Wanda said not offering Bucky or Y/N a second option. 
----
“So Y/N where have you been?” Tony asked as they all sat down at the table “it’s like you dropped off the face of the earth
“Just around,” She said quietly 
“I came by your apartment, but it was empty” Tony said, 
“I had to move out” 
“You moved out?” Nat said “How come?” She said worry filling her voice 
“Life happens” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Bucky’s eyes fell on her face, watching how her eyes studied her plate not daring to look up 
“Well things always find a way of getting better” Wanda said squeezing Y/N’s hand on the top of the table 
“How about you guys, I’ve seen good things on the news” Y/N said softly 
“We’re okay” Steve said, 
“I”m pleased,” Y/N said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, 
“What’s your new apartment like?” Wanda asked, 
“It’s nice” Y/N said gently , 
“You should give me the address,” Tony said commandingly 
“I’ll send it over to you, I still don’t quite know it off by heart” She said, it was a lie. Bucky knew it was a lie, even if he couldn’t hear her heartbeat pick up, he would be able to tell from the way she couldn’t look at anyone in their eye. 
“What part of town is it?” Steve pressed, 
“I really appreciate you guys having me for dinner but I’m going to head home” She said quickly, “I’ll see you guys around” She said picking up her coat, 
“I'm sorry if I said something wrong” Steve apologised quickly, he should’ve known better than to press her, Bucky thought
“You don’t need to” Tony said trying to savour the dinner 
“Why don’t you stay for a movie?” Wanda suggested, 
“I need to go” She said standing up and quickly hurrying out of the room 
A gentle silence fell across the room, “I shouldn’t have asked her” Steve said 
“It’s not on you” Wanda said “I don’t think that anyone could have convinced her to open up to us” 
“I’ll find her address and go over tomorrow, it’ll be easier without anyone else there” Tony said fiercely, 
“She won’t talk to you” Bucky said 
“And she’ll talk to you?” Tony snapped “You’re the reason we are in this mess in the first place. She is my friend and I will do what I think is right” 
“What even happened when you broke up?” Wanda asked 
“ Nothing” Bucky said 
“Don’t lie” Tony snapped 
“What the hell did you do? I thought you two were fine” Nat asked 
“You told us all you two were fine after the breakup” Wanda said 
“Leave him alone” Steve said sternly 
Bucky sighed softly “She just came to drop off a shirt” 
“Nobody drops off a shirt after a year” Tony said “She wanted to see you and you couldn’t even give her the time of day” He snapped 
“She’ll be okay, I’ll come with you tomorrow, we can check in on her” Wanda said 
Bucky didn’t dare to say anything, he just nodded gently. It was a thank you, all be it a silent one, but a thank you none the less. 
----
“Tony, you need to see this” Wanda said as an alert popped up on the screen alerting Tony to a new message, they had been in Tony's lab for a few hours scouting out Y/N's new apartment.
“Have you seen where she is living?” Tony said scanning through the photos that FRIDAY had brought up on his screen “it’s worse than I thought”  
“Tony now” Wanda said fiercely,
“What is it?” Tony asked, turning around, his face dropping when he saw the screen. “Is that?” 
“Y/N” Wanda finished
“Who sent this” Tony asked 
“I don’t know, it’s anonymous. I can’t trace the signal either” 
“FRIDAY, call the team and get them into the conference room now” 
“Yes Mr Stark” FRIDAY answered 
“We can’t tell Bucky” Wanda said, 
“We can and we will because he is going to help us” 
“That’s a bad idea” Wanda said 
“He once was one the best assassins, no debate. As much as I don’t like the tinman, he can and will help us” Tony said leaving little room for debate. 
“Tony what the hell? We’re meant to have the week off of missions” Nat said, sitting down in a chair with a mug of coffee nursed in her hands
“This is different” Tony said, 
“How so?” Steve asked 
“This is personal” Tony said sternly, 
“It’s Y/N” Wanda whispered, 
“What happened to her?” Bucky asked 
“I was sent this video” Tony said
 “We thought it was best we watched it together” Wanda added 
“FRIDAY, play the video please”
The screen went dark for a moment and then lit up with a picture of Y/N locked in a room, Bucky felt a strange wave of familiarity wash over him 
“Tell your friends what we want” A voice spoke, it sent chills down Bucky’s spine, he put her in this position. He had done everything to keep her safe, after all these years, this was his fault. 
“They won’t come” Y/N’s voice was strangely calm 
“Don’t be difficult girl, tell them what we want” The voice spoke again 
“You want the soldier, you want someone who’s gone. But here’s the catch. Even if he wasn’t gone, even if the solider still existed he wouldn’t come. Not for me.” She said 
“We’ve done our research” The voice mused, there was a hint of amusement in it’s voice, as though it had caught Y/N out, 
“Your research is wrong. I haven’t spoken to Bucky in a year, he does’t care” Y/N snapped, a gunshot sounded through the conference room, making them jump 
“Turn it off” Bucky’s voice was quiet but cut through the entire room 
“Shooting blanks at me won’t work” Y/N snapped “If you’re going to kill me then kill me”
“Turn it off” Bucky said once more 
“We want the soldat” The voice behind the camera spoke 
“Then you’ll have to find someone who he cares about, because it  isn’t me” She snapped 
“You have six hours or she dies” 
The camera turned off and the room went dark. All eyes turned to Bucky, 
“When was this sent?” He said 
“Barely ten minutes ago” Wanda answered softly, 
“Let’s start at her apartment” Steve said firmly “Wanda, Clint you’re with me, Tony, Nat you should try and find something from the video, there might be an idea of where they’re keeping her.” 
“I need to go as well” Bucky said 
“No” Wanda said “You need to stay away from this” 
“I spent years tracking people down, I think I’m the best chance we have to finding Y/N” He said challenging anyone to speak out against him
“I’ll go as support” Sam said patting Bucky’s back comfortingly. 
“We need to go, now” Steve said 
----
Steve’s skin crawled at the sight of Y/N’s apartment.  He hesitated before pushing the door open, it creaked and echoed through the tiny studio. Clothes were thrown across the room, plates were stacked up by the sink, two blankets were half heartedly thrown across the bed, no sign of a duvet or pillow. Bucky had to tear his eyes away from her apartment for a minute to regain his composure. 
“I can’t believe she was staying here” Wanda said stepping into it
“It was a means to an end” Steve said, 
“I should have helped her” Wanda sighed softly, her eyes falling on the pile of clothes in the corner of the room,  
“We didn’t know” Clint said
“We should have” Wanda snapped “Look at how she was living, we should have been able to help” 
“She was always good at surviving” Steve said firmly 
“She shouldn’t have had to be, we are her friends and the moment her and Bucky split we left her” Wanda said, tears building in her eyes 
“They must have taken her here, look at the mess” Steve said changing the subject quickly,
“No” Bucky said softly “This is Y/N” Bucky said with a sigh
“What do you mean?” Clint asked “this is normal?” 
“When she got busy, she used to get messy, never put things away. Found it hard to do anything” Bucky said swallowing tightly  “We argued about it” He admitted 
“So did they take her here, or not?” Sam asked 
“Not here, this is normal for her. It didn’t happen here” Bucky said firmly
“Ok so that’s something” Sam said, attempting at a loose sense of positivity
“It must’ve happened by the compound” Wanda said “think about it, if they wanted Bucky then surely they’d be keeping tabs on him. When she left last night they must have taken the next best thing to get to him” She said 
“We need to look at security cameras”  Clint suggested 
“Who wants Bucky though?” Sam said, “I think we’re focussing too much on Y/N, rather than on what they want” 
“Hydra” Steve said through pursed lips 
“It can’t be” Wanda said 
“It has to be” Clint confirmed “It makes the most sense” 
“So who are we looking at? Zemo?” Sam asked 
“Maybe” Steve said “Doesn’t feel right though”, Steve’s thought was cut short by his phone ringing 
“Steve, I’ve got an address” Tony said, “suit up”
----
Bucky couldn’t stop shaking, he’d been on tougher missions, he’d been in tougher briefings, he had almost died more times than he could count. But this felt like the worst day of his life, 
“We’ve been sent an address,” Tony said 
“It’s a trap” Nat said 
“We don’t know that” Steve suggested, “Who sent it to you?” 
“It came with a video, it was from the same people as before” 
“What’s the video?” Sam asked, noticing the tension that had fallen across the room, 
Tony instructed FRIDAY to play the video, Y/N’s face was brought up on the screen, 
“Y/N tell them what you just told me” The voice spoke 
“No” She spat through gritted teeth, her hair was matted with blood which dripped slowly from a wound on her hair line, her face was bruised and Bucky was silently pleased he could only see to the base on her neck, anymore and he was sure he would throw up. The skin he had once pressed kisses to so gently was purple and blotted with blood. 
“Our captive here has a death wish” The voice said again, “She had her little suicide letters in her pocket when we caught her” it sneered 
“Shut the hell up” Y/N snapped, there was something in her eyes that scared Bucky, she looked so void of the love that she had once been filled with 
“She was on the top of a building when we found her, she’s only got 3 hours left avengers. Are you going to give in to her wishes?” 
“Just kill me” She whispered 
“What was that?” The voice asked, it was mocking her, teasing her, it was a sight that Bucky couldn’t stand 
“Kill me!” She shouted, her voice sent chills down each of the spines of her old friends “Just kill me” She said settling into a bought of sobs, 
The video stopped and cut to a map with a pin placed directly in it. 
“We need to go” Steve said “We leave in 5” 
----
The quinjet landed softly and Bucky could feel a knot growing in his stomach, he had been on enough rescue missions to know the ways that this could go. It was an old hydra base, one that Bucky was sure should’ve been emptied years ago. But here it stood, admittedly it was partly falling down but the cells were deep underground and the structures were built to last. He knew that much well enough, if he strained his ears he would swear that he could hear Y/N’s cries, but he convinced himself it was all in his head. 
“She’s going to be okay” Steve said 
“I can’t loose her Steve” Bucky admitted “I’ve lost her once, I can’t watch her die” 
“Then don’t let her” Steve said 
Bucky followed behind the rest of the team, Wanda stood beside him, 
“Do you want me to take the fear away?” She asked under her breath, knowing nobody else would be able to hear her 
“No, I need it” Bucky said, he didn’t explain anything else but Wanda nodded, 
“Let’s go get Y/N home” Wanda said
Bucky followed Tony’s lead, any other mission he would have tried to take the lead off of Tony but he couldn’t for this. Y/N needed Tony’s planning, Y/N’s life couldn’t be in Bucky’s hands. He would never forgive himself if anything happened. They descended into the base, it was too quiet for Bucky’s liking. Hydra would never have kept it this quiet, something was wrong. 
“Welcome home soldat” the words echoed through the halls, 
“They know we are here” Steve muttered, 
“She’s down here” Tony said, taking another set of steps downwards, Bucky could hear her shallow breaths getting louder slowly with each step he took. 
“Y/N?” Steve called out, 
“I told you to fucking kill me” Y/N screamed,  Tony immediately picked up the pace to a run following the sound of her voice.  Their footsteps echoed through the concrete walls, as they came across a long hallway filled with cells made of glass. Bucky’s skin crawled at the sight. This was what he wanted to protect Y/N from, she shouldn’t see this.  
“KIll me” Her voice rang through the cells, 
“Soldat” Bucky turned to find the voice behind him. “Do the honours?” The man said, he was older than Bucky thought he would be. 
“We’re surrounded” Steve said, 
“There’s no getting out of this” The man sneered, 
“That’s kind of where you are wrong” Tony said smartly, “You really think there’s only four of us?” He laughed 
“What?” 
“The rest of our team have cleared out your base, and they’re on their way” He said with a smirk “Also not only have we got two super soldiers, we’ve also got a freaky witch and me, ironman, you might of heard of me” 
“Ironman, you forget. You have an unstable winter soldier on your team, All I have to do is say a few words and he’s under my control right?” 
“Doesn’t work anymore” Bucky snapped 
“I’m bored” Nat said sneaking up from behind, with a wicked grin she pulled the trigger and the body fell to the ground with a thud. Instantly Bucky turned and shot the guard who was keeping him surrounded “God why are all the people we go against so boring” Nat said with a huff, once they had dealt with the guards. 
“Let’s just get Y/N” Tony said letting out a breath. 
Wanda took a step away from the group into a nearby cell, it was as though she felt her. 
“Guys she’s here” Wanda called, 
Bucky took a deep breath and turned the corner, Y/N sat slumped on a chair, out of breath and covered in bruises and dried blood. 
“Please” She whimpered 
“We’re going to get you out of here” Wanda said slowly untying her gently 
“Please no” She cried 
“You’re safe” Steve said kneeling at her side 
“No Please, let me go” She said 
“We’re letting you go, you’re going to be ok” 
“No, please” She sobbed again “You have to let me die” She cried as Wanda pulled the ties away from her 
“Y/N, we can’t do that” Steve said, 
“You’re going to be okay” Tony promised
“Just let me go please?” 
PART TWO
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steddiealltheway · 7 months
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(I think I’ve written something like this before but… oh well!)
Steve and Eddie don’t really remember becoming friends.
Sure, they know they must’ve bonded during the Upside Down shit and the aftermath with the series of tests they went through together at Hawkins lab because they didn’t want a repeat of the Will situation.
But they can’t pin point a moment when they started talking to each other as if they weren’t just mutual acquaintances who went through the same hell and shared the same love for Dustin. And the strangest part about it all was that it felt easy.
And here Steve is, sitting in Eddie room, flipping through a magazine he had laying next to his bed, asking question about random things in it just to hear Eddie voice. Plus, he liked all the random information he contained. It kind of reminded him of Dustin, but Eddie was always able to put it into the simplest terms so he could grasp what he was talking about.
But today, Eddie seems somewhat distracted. As if something big is on his mind. And Steve knows that it’s consuming him when he doesn’t answer or acknowledge one of the questions Steve asks about Ozzy.
Steve glances to his right and sees Eddie staring off twirling a silver ring over and over while he chews on his bottom lip. “Eddie,” Steve tries.
Eddie snaps out of it, teeth releasing his bottom lip which is now more plump and red than usual. His hands drop to his thighs as he shoots Steve an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was off in my own world.”
“What were you think about?”
Eddie shakes his head and leans back against the wall, pulling his hair in front of his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Steve continues to stare at him, shifting his knee so it presses against Eddie’s. “You can talk to me, you know?”
Eddie nods but doesn’t look at him. He looks far off again.
But Steve respects his wishes and doesn’t press further. He turns back to the magazine and continues reading on.
“I kissed someone in the Hideout bathroom recently,” Eddie says suddenly.
Steve slowly puts the magazine down and turns to him. “Someone?” Steve prompts gently. Eddie had told him before when they were in matching hospital gowns that he had feelings for men in the past and maybe women too. But he wasn’t sure. He confided in Steve that he didn’t see himself ever dating anyone at the time - didn’t think anyone would want to.
“Some guy,” Eddie answers and sighs, dragging his hands over this face. “I don’t know. It was weird because usually guys want more from me, you know? Especially if they’re dragging me off to the bathroom. But…” Eddie trails off, lost in thought again before he turns to Steve and locks eyes with him. “We didn’t do anything. We just kissed a little, and suddenly he told me he’d see me later. Just winked and ran off. But I can’t tell if he just chickened out or if maybe… maybe this is more than that.”
Steve takes a second to process everything, trying to connect the puzzle pieces of this mystery man to come up with an answer, but he knows there’s a bias within him. He wants so badly for the man to want more from Eddie. For him to want to take it slow and ask him out on a date.
But… a small (big) part of him, which he’s unwilling to admit, wants to find that the man chickened out.
Steve does what he always does and takes the feeling and stuffs it down along with all the other feelings he struggles to hide.
He distracts himself by asking, “And what was the kiss before like?” Which is a horrible question when jealously is practically pulsing through his veins.
Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know. I can’t really tell the difference between passion and lust.” He looks down and quietly adds, “I don’t know if I’ve ever had a kiss that wasn’t lustful.”
The statement fills Steve with a deep ache that he wants to file away with everything else. He wants to be detached from this all, but he can’t.
“Why don’t you show me?” Steve asks.
Eddie laughs. “I’m not going to make out with my hand or something.”
“No,” Steve says clearly, and doesn’t back down. “I mean, why don’t you show me.”
Eddie stares at him, the humor disappearing from his face as it’s replaced by disbelief. “You want me to kiss you?”
The question rings true in way too many ways, but Steve just shrugs nonchalantly. “It’ll help me understand the situation more.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow for a moment before he licks his lips, eyes searching Steve’s then dipping down to stare at his lips.
Steve wishes he could read that expression. Is there longing there? Curiosity? Boredom? Nothing but unenthused wonder? Lust? Passion?
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “We can do that if you’re okay with that.”
He’s more than okay with that. Steve nods. “Yeah.” He wishes more words would come out, but maybe it’s better this way.
Eddie jostles the bed as he stands up. Steve looks up at him and his outstretched hand, frowning. “What are you doing?”
“Recreating the scene.”
Steve accepts the explanation and lets Eddie pull him up. He follows him out of his room and into the small hallway.
Eddie gestures to the door and says, “So pretend that’s the bathroom door, okay? I’ll be the guy, and you’ll be me.”
Steve nods, heart already pounding in his chest so hard he can hear it in his ears.
Eddie glances at him and lays a gentle hand on his arm. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I can just try to explain it or embarrass myself making out with my hand or a pillow or something.”
Steve smiles and reassures him, “I’m good. As long as you’re good.”
Eddie nods at him once and turns toward the door hesitating before turning back to Steve. “Can I ask you something weird?”
Steve shrugs. “Sure.”
“Can I kiss you before this whole thing? Just as a warm up before I stick my tongue in your mouth.”
Steve laughs and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice.”
“Okay,” Eddie says with a small smile and inches closer to him, hands fidgeting nervously at his side.
Steve grabs them and runs his thumbs over the back of Eddie’s hands, squeezing them gently. He steps forward, hands trailing up his arms, his neck, cupping his face gently. “This okay?” Steve practically whispers.
Eddie nods and takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “Yeah.”
“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”
“Okay,” Eddie says, leaning forward, eyes fluttering shut.
Steve takes a stabilizing breath before pulling Eddie in, letting his eyes close as his lips brush against Eddie’s, pressing in closer in a gentle kiss before they both pull away.
They stare at each other, eyes wide, not knowing what to say. But Steve’s too scared to say anything when he knows he’s going to sound breathless from a mere peck.
“Ready to recreate the kiss?” Eddie asks, moving away from him and breaking the moment.
All Steve can do is nod and remind himself what this is all about.
Eddie shoots him an awkward thumbs up before grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door, pushing it open and closing it behind them only to press Steve against it.
Steve can’t help the moan that’s ripped out of him at the sensation. But Eddie takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss him, harder than before, almost instantly deepening the kiss, brushing his tongue against Steve in filthy strokes. His hands move through Steve’s hair wildly, pulling him in closer, and tugging at the strands, making Steve practically a puddle of goo in the process.
God, he feels like he can’t breathe in the best way.
His hands come up to press into Eddie back, trying to get him to move closer, to successfully pin him fully against the door, but Eddie keeps his distance. Pulling away from the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip before stepping back completely.
Steve breathes heavily, staring at Eddie’s pupils blown wide, the pink flush to his cheeks, and the glossy look to his lips that Steve can’t help but think is all his doing.
“Well?” Eddie asks.
Steve tries to latch onto the words in his brain floating around. They seem entirely unimportant in this moment, but Steve knows he has a question to answer. A reason he’s doing all of this.
He runs a hand through his hair, feeling the wild strands, wishing he hadn’t messed with it before he got a chance to look at himself. He takes a deep breath and ignores the way he feels and focuses on the question at hand. “It felt more like lust to me.”
Eddie’s face crumples for a moment before he hides it behind his hand. He scrubs them over his face before he laughs humorlessly. “Figures. Jesus H. Christ, I should know by now.”
Steve’s mind lingers on what Eddie said before. “And what if you had a way to know?”
Eddie shakes his head, confused. “What do you mean?”
Steve tries again. “Like, what if you had a measure to know the difference between lust and lo- passion.” Steve silently curses the slip up, hoping Eddie doesn’t notice.
But the other boy just frowns and crosses his arms. “Now how would I do that?”
“The same thing again, only I show you what it’s like on the other side of things.”
Eddie stares at him for a few seconds before inching closer. “You want to do that?”
“Yeah,” Steve replies instantly. “You of all people deserve to know.”
Eddie glances at the ground and shakes his head. “I don’t know about that.”
Steve’s heart breaks, wondering if he’ll be able to show him what he truly means to him. He slowly tilts up Eddie’s chin and takes a step closer, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He lets his hand linger before resting it against Eddie’s jaw, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “You do,” Steve says, looking him in the eyes to show him the truth in what he’s saying.
“Steve…” Eddie says as if it’s a plea and simultaneously a disagreement.
And Steve answers him by leaning in and kissing him again. It’s like their first kiss shared in the hall moment earlier, but Steve doesn’t let it be a warm up this time. His left hand presses against Eddie’s back, pulling him in as close as he can. His other hand makes it way into Eddie’s hair, intertwining in the strands as he pulls away to breathe before reangling and kissing him again.
Eddie’s hand comes up to the back of his neck, grounding Steve as his lips move against Eddie’s slowly but firmly. They pull away for a moment, letting their breath intermingle as they catch it before they both move together again.
He lets Eddie learn what it’s like to take his time, enjoy the slowness and linger in the moment. To be held close and gently caressed.
Steve’s hand trails down from Eddie’s hair, tracing the same pathway from earlier but backwards, down his neck, his arms, and to his hands, intertwining their fingers together.
Eddie gasps lightly into the kiss as Steve squeezes his hand, and takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, letting Eddie explore rather than take.
Steve’s not sure how long they stand there, kissing as if there was no tomorrow, lingering in every moment. Breaking away momentarily to catch their breath before swooping back in, not letting the moment end. Because once it ends, they may never come back to it.
The thought hits Steve, drenching his thoughts with painful clarity. This is the moment everything he’s tried so hard to push down finally all comes up. No turning back now.
He pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against Eddie’s. He pants out his name quietly when Eddie tries to kiss him again.
He seems to understand, moving to rest his forehead against Steve’s before squeezing his eyes shut. Their hands remain intertwined.
Neither of them say a word, not wanting to break the moment or face reality.
But a question lays heavy on Steve’s mind.
“I don’t think it matters about what the kiss with the guy felt like. What matters is how did you feel during it?”
Eddie shakes his head and squeezes Steve’s hand. “Steve…”
“Eddie…”
Eddie takes a deep breath and whispers into the shared air between them, “Nothing close to what I just felt.”
Steve slowly pulls away and looks Eddie in the eye. “Are you sure?”
“Christ, Steve. No one has ever made me feel the way you just did.”
Steve pauses and asks, “What about other than that kiss? Do I make you feel like that all the time?”
Eddie’s hand loosens it grip as he steps back, shaking his head. “Don’t make me answer that, man.”
He’s stopped when Steve’s grip tightens, trying to keep him close. “You make me feel that way all the time,” Steve says, hoping he didn’t ruin everything they’ve built up to.
Eddie steps closer and cups his face. “You promise?”
Steve nods. “Yes.”
“Thank god. I was about to silently pine for the rest of my life. Shit,” Eddie says with a laugh.
Steve smiles, a laugh escaping from him as joy fills his entire body. “Yeah?”
“I was a fucking goner as soon as you kissed me the first time,” Eddie says.
Steve laughs, “I already was way before then.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. “You’re telling me I could’ve had this sooner?”
It’s seems like Steve’s incapable of doing anything but laugh.
“Steeeeve Harrington, we have so much lost time to make up for,” Eddie says, stepping closer.
“Tell me about it,” Steve says, moving in to kiss Eddie again.
He hopes eventually Eddie will forget what it was like to only know lust filled kisses, but, for now, he settles on helping him learn about passion and love.
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ikarakie · 1 year
Text
one of the known, undisputed rules of riding in steve harrington's car: passenger seat gets music privileges.
if you brought your own tape, and won the usually vicious battle for shotgun, there was a 100% chance that the drive would be backed with music of your choice. hell, there was even a small collection growing in steve's glove box of music that wasn’t his, because people left them behind either on accident or on purpose. no one really knew what steve liked to listen to- maybe minus robin- but he always seemed happy with whatever the passenger put in.
until one day, when dustin and lucas and mike climbed into his car. dustin had won passenger seat privileges, after a rather tense game of rock, paper, scissors, and instantly reached for the tape player.
steve smacked his hand down. "paws off, henderson." he scolded, not unkindly. all three kids stared at him like he'd grown a third limb as he pulled out of the wheeler's driveway. electric guitar played at a semi-low volume.
"what the hell?!" dustin squawked. "why can't i change the tape?" steve rolled his eyes, fingers tapping along to the rhythm of the beat on the wheel. none of the kids recognised the song, and it certainly didn't seem the kind of thing steve harrington would willingly listen to.
"is it so surprising i want to listen to my own tape in my car?" steve asks. dustin shouts an affronted, 'YES!' to which steve just shakes his head and continues driving.
the man on the track sings over heavy drums and guitar, talking about how he needed someone to 'show me the things that make true happiness' and 'he must be blind.' then, there's a guitar solo that steve smiles at.
"who are you?" mike asked, suspicious. "what did you do with our steve?"
"oh, shut up, wheeler." steve meets his eye in the rearview mirror. "next one to complain loses tape privileges for their next three turns."
that does shut them up. they make idle conversation over a couple more songs before they pull up to their destination. mostly threatening each other over high scores and making bets. steve waves them off with the usual 'don't be stupid' lecture and pulls out of the arcade parking lot, the bass of whatever the next track had been audible even through his closed doors and windows.
after that, steve retains ownership of his stereo every now and then, always playing some form of heavy metal. it just becomes the norm, though never fails to confound whoever's in the car. (because, seriously? polo shirt wearing steve harrington and heavy metal?)
they only ever hear anyone else listen to it after they join hellfire. eddie invites them to his trailer to create their characters together, and when they walk in one of the songs from that dumb tape is playing from a record in the corner.
"woah! you like this music too?" lucas asks. eddie nods excitedly.
"yeah, man! you a fan?" his smile dims a little when lucas shakes his head, but dustin is quick to jump in.
"our friend steve is always listening to a dumb mixtape with this sorta stuff on it." he explains, missing how eddie's eyes light up and his smile turns a little bashful. "he used to let us play whatever we want, but ever since he got that tape he makes us listen to it sometimes when he drives us around."
"well," eddie sighs, fiddling with one of his chunky silver rings. "seems this steve knows someone with very good taste in music." there's a warm look in his eyes before he claps his hands and diverts their attention to the character sheets he printed out.
later that night, steve gets a call.
"you told me you only listened to that tape once." the voice on the other end drawls. it's low and teasing, but it's undercut with obvious wonder and fondness. steve doesn't even bother pretending to be confused.
"well, it's good." (it makes me think of you) he replies, like it pains him. eddie giggles, and steve eyes the tape in question. sat on his bedside table, 'for my stevie' scrawled across it in eddie's neatest handwriting. shitty little hearts drawn around his name and an even shittier skull at the end. "how'd you know?"
"recognised my mötörhead record." eddie coos, "told me how you revoke their music privileges to listen to it." a pause. "you're so fucking cute."
steve can't help the dorky smile that spreads over his face. the way he twirls the phone cord like a fucking lovesick loser. he cracks a joke about making eddie a mixtape featuring the likes of duran duran and tears for fears, which makes him fake retch. they chat for a little while longer, whispering 'i love you's through the phones like it was their first time saying it.
the tape stays firmly in the bmw's music rotation.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 month
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eye-rolling "Well, I guess I can do that for you."
pretty please with Steve? 🥰🥰
You weren’t Steve’s girlfriend, not at all. In fact, the man hadn’t even managed to take you on a date. Not yet.
But Steve was pretty damn sure he was borderline besotted with you. Affection made him ache, the longing worse. He felt like a teenager again, a schoolboy with a soul shattering crush that he wasn’t sure he could hide much longer…
…from you, anyway. Everyone else knew.
Which is why Nancy grinned and Eddie laughed into his beer when you found him at the party, a small get together with some old high school friends that had turned into someone bigger and messier as more people returned home to Hawkins for the holidays.
Steve had been watching you move around the room for a while, sandwiched between the sofa arm and Robin, gaze watching the way you hugged each old friend, your eyes bright with excitement, your touch warm and affectionate as you hugged everyone you’d missed.
Steve didn’t even really have time to feel jealous before you were leaning over the back of the couch, your chin on Steve’s shoulder, your perfume familiar and heart racing. You were grinning when you stole his beer bottle with light fingers, non pleased as you brought it to your lips to steal a swig, uncaring that it was borderline warm from the way Steve had nursed it all night.
You didn’t notice the way Jonathan snickered at Steve’s expression, the way Eddie smirked and Robin nudged Steve’s ribs with a bony elbow. You couldn’t see how the poor man had turned pink, face flushed and chest almost still as you leaned closer, your cheek almost touching his.
And then you turned into him, lips so close to his, your nose nudging his temple as the cheap wine you’d been drinking made you bolder, less caring of your audience.
“Hey, Steve?”
Steve didn’t dare turn his head with you this close. He didn’t need his friends to witness him short circuit. He knew you’d be close, closer than ever, close enough to count the fan of your lashes, the flecks of different colours in your eyes, the tiny silver scar on your chin that you got when you were six.
So he hummed instead, taking his beer back from your hand and downing a long drag. He could barely taste the bitterness of it over the leftover stain of your cherry lip balm. It’s like he’d forgotten how to breathe—
“I was wondering, if it’s not too much hassle,” your hand found his shoulder, warm and familiar and affection as it slipped over the front of his chest, playing with his collar. “If you’re still taking Robin home, could you drop me off on the way?”
Steve took too long to reply, the feeling of your small hand against his chest too much for him to comprehend and Eddie was sitting across from his, his grin absolutely wild and Robin’s heel was grinding down on top of his trainers, urging him to answer.
“I—”
“It’s just,” you went onto explain, taking his overwhelmed silence for apprehension, “I was supposed to crash at Jenny’s but she’s going home with Chris now and I don’t really wanna walk, y’know?”
Eddie butted in then, all cheek and charm and Steve wanted to throttle him. He was still grinning, too wide and knowing, and he knocked his boot against Steve’s shin. He tsked, frowning exaggeratedly. “Hey now,” he told you, “Harrington won’t have you walkin’ anywhere, isn’t that right Steve? He’d love to give you a ride.”
Robin almost spat her drink out, waving you away when you looked at her concerned, coughing furiously into her fist and Steve was done.
He gave in then and turned, silently thankful that you moved back just a little, your eyes warm as he met your gaze and you grinned at the sight of him, like you’d missed him as much as he had you.
Fuck, you were pretty. So, so pretty.
And Steve didn’t know what to do. So he did what he always done and played his part, that character that he had in his back pocket from high school, the one he’d learned to tone down just a little and use as a shield. So he rolled his eyes but it only made you grin wider because fucking hell, you could see right through him and Steve knew that.
It’s why you kept your hand on his chest, your arm draped over his shoulder, touching him like he belonged to you and god— he did, he did, he did.
“Yeah, uh, sure,” Steve pretended to consider it. “I can do that for you.”
You tilted your head at him, all quiet flirtation, coy and knowing and your fingertips ran up his chest and over the neckline of his shirt until you were touching bare skin- just for a second.
It was enough to make Steve’s brain buzz, full shutdown, engine screeching, loading screen frozen.
“For me?” You pouted.
You were still too close and your lips were glossy and Steve knew they tasted like cherry. All his friends were staring.
“Yeah,” he nodded, throat dry, eyes on your mouth and the way it curled into a smile. The act was over, his play pretend crumbling. He was too soft for you to try and keep it up for very long. “For you.”
And when you thanked him with a too quick press of your lips to his cheek and then disappeared into the crowd again, his friends waited all of six seconds before they exploded.
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lovebugism · 1 year
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could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw
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✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !
summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo
( MASTERLIST )
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Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth. 
He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.
It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.
Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him. 
“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.
You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”
Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.
When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.
Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.
Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.
“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”
Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.
You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”
The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness. 
“…I’m gonna try.”
He was pretty much a goner after that.
The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.
Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.
And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.
He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.
That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.
The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).
And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.
If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.
But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.
So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.
Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”
You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.
Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.
Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.
Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.
Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.
You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”
The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.
He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.
“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”
Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”
“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”
With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.
“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.
He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.
And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.
Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.
Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess. 
“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s okay, Eds—”
“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”
“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.
“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”
Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”
You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”
He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.
He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”
“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”
“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.
It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”
“Eddie!” you scold.
“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”
“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”
“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”
“Yeah… Okay.”
“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod
Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.
“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”
“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”
He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”
“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”
With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step. 
You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.
Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.
“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”
You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”
“…Really?”
“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.
“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”
A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.
Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.
You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.
“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”
You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.
“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.
“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”
You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side. 
You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.
It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.
Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.
You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace. 
You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.
Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.
You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”
“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.
“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”
“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.
You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell. 
You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.
But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.
Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.
You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch. 
He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe. 
You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.
The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?
Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.
Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you. 
Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.
His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.
He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.
As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.
“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”
“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”
You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.
But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.
“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.
It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.
“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”
“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”
Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.
The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.
He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.
You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.
“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.
“…What?”
“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”
You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different. 
“Better?” you tease.
Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.
You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.
“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.
Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose. 
You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.
You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.
“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”
3K notes · View notes
mysticmunson · 1 year
Text
in the cards
eddie munson x reader x steve harrington
summary: after a mundane game of go-fish, steve makes a proposition that changes your friendship.
word count: 7.1k
warning: SMUT, minors go away shoo, dumbification
quick shoutout to @lilacletter for being amazing and letting me talk about the fic way too much!
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Playing Go-Fish wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but the game barely persisted as Eddie and Steve conversated. After their shifts at work, they met at yours and Eddie’s apartment, the typical meeting spot since Steve tried to avoid his house like the plague when his parents were home. 
A mixed set of diamonds and spades sat in Eddie’s hand as he tapped his foot, tapping the pad of his fingers against his pursed lips. His collection on the table was growing, but still slightly behind the one before him. 
“Are you even listening to me?” Steve huffed, his elbows on the table as the other eyes flicked up in his direction, rolling on their way. Placing the game face down, he leaned forward, motioning for his friend to continue.
“She couldn’t even remember my name when she was leaving, man! And not even in a good way!” Steve groaned, throwing his cards down and rubbing his palms against eyes, slouching down in the wooden chair of the dining room table. 
The date he had had last week was eating him alive ever since he pulled away from Mary’s house. They both knew what they were going into when she offered him to come over while her parents were away. What he didn’t expect was for her to forget his name, still getting it wrong when he reminded her as she sent him off with, “See ya, Cleave.”
“What kind of name is Cleave? Do I look like a Cleave?” Steve questioned rhetorically as Eddie smirked, holding back a laugh as he nodded. “What? Never had a girl forget her name before, hotshot?” 
“Yeah, asshole, I have.” Eddie scoffed, rubbing the corners of his lips, “It was just one bad time, Mary is bland anyways, find someone you actually find interesting. Have a connection with.”
It was true, Mary had been a fairly desperate choice after a few dry weeks, bumping into her at the mall. He hadn’t seen her since high school, even then she would just come to his house parties to drink and head out with a member of the football team. He knew he could never forget her as during junior year, she threw up into his grandma’s vase and cried, running to a friend's car with the vase in arms.
“It shouldn’t be this difficult to get laid.” Steve sighed, pushing his chair to stand, sauntering over to the fridge to grab two beers. The wooden drawers were littered with Chinese food menus, appliance instructions, and loose change, but in the depths was a silver bottle opener. 
He firmly flicked the cap back, repeating the motion for the other bottle before tossing it back into the unknown. The tops scraped across the granite counters with a sharp noise, wincing as he put them into the garbage pail. Entering the dining room, he held the drink towards Eddie as he accepted.
“Not difficult to get laid, difficult to get laid good.” Eddie stated, shrugging and taking a sip. The bubbles tickled his throat as he coughed them away subtly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 
“Since when are you the sex expert?” Steve grumbled, not enjoying the turn of events that this conversation was bringing forth. He fell to his seat, slumping as he threw his head back, taking a long slip.
It seemed like days ago that Eddie would ask Steve for advice on your guy’s sex life, paranoid that he would be shit at it and scare you away. He’d always assure him it wouldn’t, he had known you longer than Eddie, and it would take much more than awkward touching to get rid of you.
Now, it was more than days, weeks, or months ago. You two had been together for over two years, moved in together, and ironed out the major sex concerns. But Steve had never had to vent like this to him and his ego was bruising like a peach.
“Since I’ve had a girlfriend for almost three years and you can’t even get a steady hook up.” He snapped, rolling his eyes as he gathered all the cards in a pile, straightening them into a deck. The soft cracking of the paper hitting one another filled the room as Eddie began to shuffle, seeing quick splashes of red and black amongst the white sheets. 
“Whatever, maybe it’s cause I like trying kinky shit unlike some people!” Steve retorted, but was only met with a laugh that Eddie couldn’t hold back for even a moment. The boy's eyebrows scrunched as he looked at him expectantly, hoping for an explanation of his abrupt humor, “Oh what, you’re some King in the bedroom now?” 
After he stopped needing frequent advice, Eddie didn’t talk about sex that much, aside from the typical joke or banter. Steve figured it could be due to his friendship with both of you or that Eddie finally relaxed into the intimacy, but part of him always wanted to know the details. 
Sure, it was nosey, but everyone is nosey, especially when two of your closest friends start dating. You two were a bit of an odd pair, anyone with Eddie was as his rough exterior could juxtapose with your gentiler one. When Eddie would ask about how he should initiate sex or suggest something, it made Steve’s mind wander. He kept it under a fair amount of control, but he saw the fictional visuals as he made suggestions. He knew you both well, so well that sometimes he was convinced he was the puppet master of your sex lives for the first few weeks. 
Once you two had gotten closer, the chats stopped, with any questions towards Eddie being met with, “No complaints.” Short, but effective, and unfortunately, nothing to add onto. He tried to ignore it, focusing on his own issues, but it practically taunted him. He’d see a used condom in the trash when using the bathroom or notice the way you shivered when Eddie dragged his fingers against your bare skin, even in the most innocent of areas, shooting you a wink.
“I doubt that you wanting to try shit is prohibiting your action and King is debatable.” Eddie mused, resting his ring clad fingers against his gray shirt, the condensation from the glass lingering to darken the fabric. 
Finally, more than just blanket statements, he could work with this banter. 
“So just sometimes a King? Sometimes a disappointment like your old chum?” Steve joked, running a hand through his locks, working through a single knot that must have come from a kid pulling on his hair at work. Apparently kneeling to the bottom row to organize nature documentaries was a contact sport.
“I do what I need to do. And then some.” Eddie replies, but his friend can see the smile he’s trying to suppress before his lips meet the bottle again. So Steve nods for him to continue, putting his ankle against his opposite knee, giving him full attention.
Eddie doesn’t look over until he becomes painfully aware of the silence, seeing awaiting eyes. He liked having something private that no one would know or understand, seeing each other in a raw way completely enticing to the other.  
But part of him wanted to spill his guts, share every detail with precision and description. He was never one to bite his tongue, constantly having a new topic to discuss or argue about. He could trust Steve, probably more than anyone, and you trusted Steve a lot too.
“We’ve done a lot, she forgets my name and her own a lot. It’s… something else, man.” He sighs, relinquishing the sharp breath behind his teeth, curling his toes from inside his boots. 
“In a Cleave way or a good way?” Steve jests, not enjoying the slight awkwardness lingering, that Eddie cackles at, shaking his head.
“Good way, don’t think we would’ve lasted this long if she called me Freddie.” He laughs, one that Steve returns, “She goes dumb a lot, so it’s not unusual.”
The riot quieted as Steve tried to make sense of Eddie’s comment. You weren’t dumb, not by a long shot, you had managed those boys out of trouble more times than they could count. 
“Ya know, turns into an airhead, can barely talk, starts blinking slower, and just mumbling.” Eddie explained, “But sometimes, it gets really loud. Cries and drools a lot too, basically have to carry her cause her legs get too shaky.” 
Silence hung for maybe a moment before Steve laughed, making Eddie look up at the boy before him who rubbed fingers over his eyebrows. His eye roll was noticeable, even behind the stray hairs that fell as his head moved and the fans blew cold air. 
“What’s so funny, Harrington? Don’t believe me?” Eddie grimaced, annoyed at his friends behavior and trying to ignore the shot to his self esteem. His sexual experiences started years after Steve’s, it’s why he went to him in the first place after you two got together. 
As time went on, you made him feel relaxed about wanting things or experimentation, so much so that he didn’t feel a need to talk about it with anyone, but you. Steve would rant or rave about his newest find while he chose to hold his cards a bit closer, especially as you got more vulnerable with him. 
After your first few times together, he noticed you couldn’t fully relax into it like he could. There was a subtle rigidness to your form, as if your body could decompress, but you were holding back. When you revealed you wanted him to place his hands around your neck, he was nervous, but tried gently. 
He watched as your eyes went blank, breathing leveling out, and body molding to his against the mattress. His thrusts kept their harsh pace as he talked you through your orgasm, finishing himself not long after. During after care, he mentioned it and watched bashfulness cover your face.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to have my hands around your neck to fully relax, baby.” He confessed, your body against his as he cupped your cheek, “Let's just keep trying different things and see what you like best, okay? I just want you to enjoy it.” 
The next few times were spent experimenting with positions, dynamics, and role play. It wasn’t until you stopped trying to force it that it happened. You had a particularly rough day, crashing into him with neediness that you usually tried to suppress as he led you to the bedroom. 
The same hazy gaze coated your eyes as he fucked you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room as you squeaked in response to his grunts. When Eddie noticed, he encouraged it, being gentle vocally to help you succumb to the pleasure you were craving. It made you feel weightless and made him feel like a hero. It became addicting, the dynamic of letting him care for you as you let the day melt away.
“Whatever man.” Steve commented, his lips meeting the bottle as he drank it halfway, burping quietly into his fist. 
“I’m not lying, jackass!” Eddie raised his voice, not indicating anger, but in frustration and his typical rowdiness. His brown eyes bore into his companions as they go from playful to complex. 
“Prove it.” Steve retorts, solidifying his stance at the opposition. Eddie had no reason to lie, but he couldn’t imagine you so defenseless. So helpless. 
Eddie opened his mouth to reply until his eyes widened, eyebrows disappearing behind his unruly bangs of brown. His reaction made Steve’s stomach drop, if the instigation was overstepping a boundary he had been blind to, but how were you supposed to react to this sort of proposition.
The gears within their head slowly churned as they stared at one another, pursed lips and nodding slowly and subtly. Downing the rest of his beer in one swing, Eddie let out a loud breath as the bubbles trailed down his gut. 
“Okay Harrington, if she agrees, join us.” Eddie decides, truly unsure on whether you would find the idea enticing or strange. Feeling a bit of both of those emotions, the boys shook their hands on it before letting their arms fall to their sides. 
That was 3 weeks ago. 
Steve figured you had opted against it, cringing at the idea of him becoming sexually involved in your relationship, but you nor Eddie were acting differently. You all went to dinner as normal, Steve came over every few days, all the mundane things that occurred prior to the conversation over cards.
When the days of radio silence fizzled to background noise, he concluded that it wasn’t going to happen, that the perverted thoughts that crept in his mind would remain there until they vanished. But with Eddie’s added details, it only enhanced the imagery, seeing everything when he closed his eyes. 
As he tied his shoelaces, sat on his bed in jeans and a sweater as he prepared to do last minute adult stuff, like going to the post office. Robin had been away at band camp for two weeks and asked him to write letters, most he forgot to send, but he was determined to make at least one get there before she came home and ridiculed him. 
His bedside table phone startled him, securing the knot before grabbing the green handle, almost knocking over the candle his mom got him for Christmas years ago that he had only lit once. 
“Yello?” Steve chimed, pressing the phone to his shoulder as he adjusted the watch on his wrist. He kept forgetting to puncture another hole in the leather to make it more snug. 
“Harrington, what’s up, man?” Eddie let out a breathy chuckle from the opposing end, making Steve check his calendar across his room. He usually came to their place on Tuesdays after his longest shifts and on the weekends, but he panicked that he forgot an event.
“Uh, just hanging out, ‘bout to head to the post office.” He hums, pressing his lips to a line, preparing himself for the scream he’s about to receive when Eddie reveals whatever he may have forgotten, “What about you?”
“Cool.” Eddie cuts his friend off, clearing his throat, “Remember that conversation we had like three weeks ago? She said yes, I told her you’d appear on a random day, I didn’t want her to be nervous.”
The thud within Steve’s stomach must have been picked up on the opposing line, his fingers halting their work at picking off the plastic covering of the coil connected to the phone. The only thing making him know this was real was Eddie’s grainy breathing in his ear through the shitty speaker. 
“I’ll be right over.” He declares, putting the phone down harsher than intended, standing up quickly to grab his box of condoms from his bedside drawer. His anxiety riddled brain begins to overanalyze, how many condoms do you bring to a threesome? What if they all break as he puts them on and has to do a walk of shame to the gas station to get more? What if you’re allergic to latex and have a bad reaction?
As he made his way to his car, he felt himself clam up as the worst outcomes infiltrated. What if this is a joke? Eddie luring him over, just to laugh at his anticipation to watch his girlfriend get fucked. He could tell the whole town how Steve Harrington is a cuck, a lustful heathen watching young women get pleasured. But then he rationalized that, who would Eddie tell? He had a loud mouth, but most tuned him out and he didn’t hang out with many people who would actually give a shit.
They were his best friends, they shit on him, but never intentionally made him feel bad. You had seen him at some of his lowest points, only providing comfort and a joke to lighten the mood. It would be a complete contrast to the girl he’s known for years.
His car pulled into the apartment complex, waving at the guard reading a newspaper who stood post daily. His typical spot beside your car was open as he backed in, placing his hand on the passenger seat to look behind himself, easing into the compact space. His car jolted to a stop as he turned off the engine, remaining in his seat belt for a moment, unable to believe he was here for this reason.
On autopilot he approached your door, softly knocking as he rocked back and forth against your doormat. The black font spelled Welcome, recalling how you dragged him along to buy furniture and decor for your place when you moved in.
“Hey man.” Eddie smiles, swinging the door open and letting his friend in. Steve nodded and slipped off his shoes, noticing the sound of running water from the bathroom, “You still wanna do this right? If not just say the word, I don’t want to fuck up-”
“I wanna do it.” Steve assures a bit too firmly, face reddening which makes Eddie laugh, going to the couch and sitting down. Steve followed, grabbing the blue throw pillow and placing it in his lap. 
“Alright, here’s the plan. She’s in the shower and still doesn’t know you’re here. She’s had a few rough days at work and needs to destress, so I’m gonna get her started and make sure she’s in a good headspace before you come in.” Eddie explains, more serious than most saw of him, “I’ll signal you, thumbs up or down for which direction this is heading. If she doesn’t want to today, just head out like normal, but if she does, don’t hesitate to back away during it. Neither of us will be offended, if she gets upset, it’s just because she’s in a headspace and I’ll handle it, nothing’s gonna change our friendship.”
Steve nodded as Eddie spoke, feeling more relaxed at his reassurance, comforted at his thought into it and how he accounted for everyone. He could tell Eddie was a bit nervous as he bit at his lip, playing with his rings by twisting them back and forth, the skin beneath becoming the shade of a strawberry. When the water turned off, he gave Steve a nod before walking down the hall to the bedroom, leaving the door open just an inch. The bathroom was connected, meaning you wouldn’t notice the opened door or Steve, just Eddie sitting on the bed nonchalantly. 
“Hey pretty girl, c’mere.” Eddie cooed, signaling you over in just your towel as you opened the door, hair down and dry as you washed it the day previous. 
Pulling your body close to his, you melted to his embrace, relishing in his soft shirt and strong arms. You had never felt comfort like how you did with Eddie, that peace could be contained in such an eccentric package. His lips pressed lightly against your damp skin, down your collarbone to your shoulder.
Tossing your head backwards, you barely noticed as he slipped off your towel, letting it fall down into a heap of beige. He met your lips with his, cradling your cheek with his palm, twisting to let you lay against the blanket. Yanking off his shirt quickly, he met you again, his tongue slipping behind your teeth. 
With your thighs at his sides, he rubbed his jean clad crotch against your bare cunt, making you mewl into his mouth. He scooted down between your legs, rubbing soothingly against your plush skin.
He could have gone all in, eating you out like he was starving, but he knew something more effective at this moment. He was delicate, pressing gentle kisses to your lower lips until you whimpered. He sucked on your folds, avoiding your clit to keep you needy, seeing your hands clench at your sides.
The salacious sounds flowed into the living room where Steve sat, keeping his gaze on the door for his signal, but his cheeks became crimson. It felt like an invasion, hearing two people pleasure each other, even though he was invited. He had been in this home more times than he could count, but he noticed the chips in the paint on the wall or the small stain in the carpet as he tried anything to avoid thinking of you spread out. 
“Eddie, please.” Steve heard from the bedroom, followed by the squeaking of the mattress and the male voice shushing you. He tried to rub some pain away from his crotch, biting his lip at the brief relief, but yanking his hand away as he heard your moans get louder until you cried out. 
It went quiet as Eddie’s upwards thumb came into view, the reality officially settling in as Steve approached the door. Stepping inside, he saw you naked on all fours upon the messy bed, facing the right side of the bed. His breath hitched at the sight, your eyes already spacy and only focusing on your boyfriend who stood with your chin in hand, wearing only a pair of black boxers. 
“Now sweetheart,” He began, summoning Steve over, “Are you going to be a good girl for our guest and me?” You nodded fiercely, only aiming to make him happy in this blissful state, making him chuckle as he dropped his grasp. “Alright, get him started.”
Steve wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but you apparently did, sitting up and pulling off his sweater. You were at eye level when you looked the other way, waiting for the approval of your partner before you met your best friend's lips. The kiss was tentative, his movement hesitant as he felt someone watch, but he soon fell into the touch.
He held your cheek, deepening the kiss and stepping closer. Your mouth was minty and warm as his tongue crossed the border, exploring the uncharted territory he had fantasized about. Your hands reached his belt, undoing the metal buckle and unzipping his jeans. Your palm rubbed against his growing erection, making him moan into you before biting your lower lip.
With a small trail of spit, you pulled away and moved to the floor to sit on your haunches. Yanking his trousers and underwear to the floor, you averted to Eddie, taking his remaining clothes off. You licked your hand to gently tug at Steve’s cock as your mouth was occupied with your boyfriends length. 
Their groans almost harmonized as they got harder under your touch, finding power within the submissiveness. A firm hand came to your head to push the cock further down your throat, gagging briefly as you sucked in a breath through your nose. Switching the placement, you felt Steve twitch when your lips met his tip, swirling your tongue around the smooth skin. 
“Fuck.” Steve whispered, his stomach clenching as you bobbed your head, your hand moving in a similar motion against Eddie. He found too much pleasure watching his girlfriend blow their best friend, but it made him hard and it only increased as he realized how much consensual power he had in the scenario.
He grasped your wrist, moving it so he could move lower, squatting beside you. As you reached the end of Steve’s dick, Eddie yanked you off as you squeaked, his hand threaded into your hair. He made a soft tsking noise, shaking his head with a shit eating grin. 
“On the bed.” He instructed, assuming your previous position on all fours as he sauntered behind you, grabbing a condom from the bedside table. He nodded at you as you began to suck Steve’s dick once more.
Eddie stroked himself inside the plastic and slid his head through your wet folds, watching the tip get shiny. He smirked, pressing into your cunt as you moaned, a low vibration surrounding your invaded throat. When you came up for air, Eddie laughed to both you and Steve’s surprise. 
“Now, now, don’t be shy. Tell Stevie what you’re really thinking about,” Eddie taunted, watching embarrassment flood to your face as Steve looked downwards in confusion, meeting the man's eyes next, “Are you gonna tell Stevie? Hm?”
Looking back at Eddie with a wobbly lip, Steve felt his heart twist and subconsciously brought his hand to your cheek to rub it soothingly. Steve wasn’t used to seeing his friend be a bit of a dick, mocking and belittling you, but there was still so much care. And you clearly enjoyed it, finding peace within the world he made for you behind the wooden door and concrete walls. Eddie laced his fingers into your hair, smirking as you looked up at the man before you.
“Go on, tell Stevie how you’ve been dreaming about his balls in your mouth.” Eddie taunted as his friend grew a cheshire smile, biting his lip to prevent his own laugh. 
“Want ‘em, baby?” Steve lured, moving closer with his erection by your face as he lazily stroked it, blossoming red. All you could muster was a whine, launching forward to suck on one of his most sensitive places.
Stars appeared before Steve as your hand moved to jerk him off as your mouth went to work beneath it. Eddie’s thrusts picked up momentum with a smack to your ass, rubbing the skin tenderly as you moaned.
“Fuckin’ loves it, man. Practically begs for my balls.” Eddie musters out, flicking his gaze up as both held condescending smirks, “Loves when you press them on her face or… on her pussy.” With his last words, Eddie pressed them against your folds, clit feeling his warm skin as you cried out. 
Shortly after, Eddie pulled away, tilting his head to signal their partner away too. When he got a good look at you, Steve really realized what Eddie meant. Your eyes were glossy, lips hanging open and doing whatever you were instructed. He was snapped from his daze when a condom flew at his chest, fumbling to grab it before it hit the ground.
Eddie held up the box, showing the sizing that was a match for Steve’s, so he opened it, putting it on with a grunt as he felt sensitive. You laid down horizontally on the mattress, Eddie by your head and Steve by your feet. Eddie hadn’t come yet, but pulled away the condom, knowing he was about to enter your mouth. 
“Hey, look at me.” Eddie commanded gently, squatting to meet your eyes as you looked in a haze, “Focus for a second, baby.” Steve went stagnant, releasing himself from his grasp and rubbing small circles on your hip. 
“Now, your hand stays on my thigh at all times, okay?” Eddie asks, awaiting your nod. Giving head in this position, him above you with your nose covered by his skin, was glorious, but made him anxious. He didn’t play around when it came to things like this, knowing how ditsy you can get and the lack of oxygen it can cause if you couldn’t signal him.
“I want you to tap my thigh once for Yes or Good, then twice for No or Bad. If you need to call Yellow or Red, smack me as hard as you can.” He instructed, smoothing your hair back from your forehead, “I need to hear you say it, pretty girl.” 
“Once for yes, twice for no, smack for red.” You whispered, reaching behind you for his hips and he grabbed your wrists. 
Giving you a warning glare, you slinked them down, resting them on your warm tummy. 
“If your hand leaves me or you don’t respond, Steve and I both pull away.” He addressed, making you whimper, “It won’t happen if you do those two things.”
Nodding, you sniffled subconsciously, looking into your devoting boyfriend's eyes with a small smile. He stroked your cheek sweetly for a moment, kissing you upside down, mumbling a sweet ‘I love you’.
While Steve had never seen this side of Eddie, he knew it had to have existed as you were a fairly emotional person. It wasn’t anything abnormal, you just felt things intensely in general.
He kneeled on the bed, glancing at your face and observing as he slid himself inside. He knew that as soon as he heard your moanful gasp, that it would remain on repeat in his brain far longer than it should. Inching himself in with a shaky breath, he held onto your plush hip, relishing in the soft noises leaving your mouth.
Straddling over your face, your hand resting on Eddie's thigh, he pushed his tip inside your lips. He moaned at the vibrations around his cock as you made muted noises, biting his own lip and clenching his eyes. 
The pleasure you felt was all consuming, feeling full by your best friend and the warmth of your boyfriend on your face with the rest of him using your throat to get off. Spit pooled to the top of your mouth, coming down your chin, feeling Eddie’s thumb rub some on your lips. 
Eddie’s hand went down to squeeze your breast, toying with the nipple to evoke shivers. Your brain had drifted away, senses overloaded to a state of bliss beyond comprehension as they utilized your body for what they desired. When Steve’s fingers reached your bundle of nerves, your legs began to shake, whimpers struggling to surface.
Hands from both ends stroked your soft skin gently, attempting to calm you down. But  part of Eddie was losing his mind, watching you be pleased by another man, but a part of him couldn’t look away. His gaze lingered at your cunt being filled, but Steve’s eye’s couldn’t tear away from seeing the outline of Eddie’s cock through your neck. 
“Hand. One warning.” Eddie grunted after your hand had fallen to your sides, too immersed in your head to remember the one rule instructed to you. The muffled squeak could be heard as it flew back to his tattoo, gluing itself to the detailed ink. 
The squelching of your arousal was filling the room, Steve throwing back his head, pushing some of his brown locks away. The position was good, but he wanted more, letting his hands flow from your hips to your knees.
In a swift motion, he bent them, holding your thighs down to fuck you deeper, making sure his balls hit the bottom of your pussy. Eddie laughed as you yelped, taking an opportunity to thrust faster down your throat, making you gag. 
Maybe there should have been more shame in how much pleasure you received from being manhandled, especially by two people, but their gentle touches felt far more erotic than anything else. 
Starving off an orgasm, Eddie slowed down, making the strokes longer, nuzzling down to the hilt. His mouth hung open, eyes fluttering for a moment before opening in front of him to see Steve, who looked at where the two of you met. When Steve looked up to see Eddie’s blissed out grin, he blushed, lips parted slightly. 
As Eddie relished in the pleasure, he felt your hand beginning to slip before falling to the sides, giving you a few seconds to see if it was an accident, before pulling away abruptly. Steve noticed and backed away too, softening his gaze at your bashful and frazzled demeanor. 
“No, wait, please.” You mumbled, throat growing slightly raw as you tried to sit up, but Eddie walked to the side, dragging you to sit up by your armpits. He can see the way your thighs are clenching, adjusting in discomfort with wide eyes. 
“We’re gonna try something else, okay?” He soothed, rubbing your cheek with his thumb before kissing you. Steve felt himself growing weaker as he neared his end, cock blossoming a bright red, and opted to take a seat on the bed. Eddie had turned away to grab a fresh rubber, “Get on top of him, baby.”
After receiving the instructions, you followed them by straddling Steve and kissing him. The hormones were flowing with more intensity as you ached for an orgasm while he hoped he’d at least last a bit longer. 
“Fuck her, Harrington.” Eddie’s voice boomed as he approached, his knees on the bed as he went behind you. Without hesitation, Steve angled himself to your entrance and slid his tip inside. You gasped between kisses, sinking down on it with little resistance as due to the gravity and his hands guiding your waist.. 
Meeting your hips halfway, Steve moaned at the feeling of you on his cock and Eddie watching with a stoic expression. You threw your head back as a wave of brief pleasure coaxed you, not quite at your peak before getting closer. 
Through the movements, Eddie reached to his drawer, pulling your preferred lube choice and put some onto his hand. He grabbed himself, making sure his length was well covered and dragged his damp finger against your other hole. He felt your body shutter at the delicate touch, this being something fairly new for you both, and never doing it at the same time as classical penetration.
A loud gasp sent your lips away from Steve’s, making his brows furrowed in confusion until he saw your boyfriends focus downward. Steve hushed you, holding your head against his neck to let you cry out, body tensing at the sudden sensation of the man behind you. 
“I know, sweetheart, I know. You’re doing so good.” Eddie assured, being as delicate as he could as he inched his way inside. Every vein and ridge felt so prominent within the canal of your holes, closing your eyes to focus on the way they both felt. 
Your barely audible cries made both men feel guilty, Steve stroking your hair and Eddie rubbing your back. The safe word or colors hadn’t been utilized, so they knew they weren’t going over any limits, but the tears falling down your cheeks weren’t easy to witness.
He reached a point where most of himself was inserted in your ass, beginning to thrust subtly to test the waters, putting a few drops of lubrication to where you connected for some extra help. 
“You’re okay, honey, we gotcha.” Steve moved his hand between your bodies, finding your clit to rub small circles against the needy bud. The pleasure helped ease the ache from both men inside, nails digging into his tan shoulder. It was a few minutes later when you finally mewled, the sensitivity of your body finally meeting the pleasure they were proposing, feeling their tips reach a point inside you.
“There she is, there’s my girl. Doin’ so good, baby.” Eddie praised, holding your hips still to let him control the pace, also giving his friend more leeway to thrust up into you. The spurts of satisfaction became more frequent as all three of you grew more comfortable, gaining a rhythm. 
“Feel so good, sweetheart, fuck. Better than I imagined.” Steve blurted, resting his forehead against yours as his hands multitasked between your chest and between your legs. 
The sensation was overstimulating, penetrating the most intimate of places with pain and pleasure. The world around you seemed to turn to television static, aware of it, but with no concept of what truly was going on. 
With your cheek pressed against Steve’s cheek, your mouth hung open to release small squeaks, a few tears still trickling as the pain slowly subsided. You curled your toes that were pressed against the comforter, a reminder of your physical presence. 
The reminder must have not been clear enough as both men pulled out abruptly, the sudden emptiness startling you with a whimper that was quickly hushed. Eddie sat against the pillows, pulling your back to his chest, pressing a few short kisses to your neck and lips with small words of encouragement. 
Yanking your legs across, you were spread out against Eddie’s lap as he re-entered your ass, the insertion much quicker than before, making you wincereleased a sob. Eddie tilted your face towards him, hushing you calmly. Steve moved towards you on both knees, preparing to slip inside, but became transfixed on your glistening pussy. 
His mouth met your cunt, lapping up your messy arousal from your puffy folds. Shivers ran down your spine as you focused on his tongue, balancing with the ache of Eddie’s cock inside. Steve’s mouth reached your clit, slipping two fingers inside to curl upwards, finding a familiar spot that made you moan.
“Don’t come yet.” Eddie commanded and felt your body tense against him, nodding with a bitten lip. He would typically make you verbally agree, but he knew the whole situation was fairly intense, so he wasn’t going to get hung up on minor details.
“Didn’t think you’d be so cruel, Munson. Especially not with this cute little cunt.” Steve smirked, rising back to his knees as his mouth glistened with your arousal. 
The vulgarity falling from his lips was due to comfort, realizing he could also join Eddie in the game with boundaries. He watched his friend roll his eyes with a laugh while Steve slid in quickly, making you gasp. 
There was a hitch in your throat, coughing it through as you tried to regulate your breathing. The new position had you more revealed, Eddie’s hands holding your knees far apart and propositioning you completely exposed to their guest.
“Kiss please.” You mumbled, attempting to get closer to Steve’s face, which made him laugh. 
“You have two cocks inside you and still need more?” He sassed, instantly regretting it as your face fell and Eddie glared, “I’m just kidding, baby, c’mere.” His lips met yours fast, absorbing every second of passion between you both. 
Eddie kissed along your neck, still ignoring the jealousy he had over your exchange with their friend, but reminding himself he knew you like no one else did. Like how he knew it took a lot for you to ask for specific things when you were vulnerable, something he’d definitely need to mention to Steve.
A burn began to strike in your lower gut, broiling as they increased their movements, the sounds of wet skin hitting one another as your slick and the lubricant covered both of them. Steve’s thumb met the bundle of nerves between your legs again, ruthlessly swirling the pad of his finger against it with no mercy.
The pleas from your mouth didn’t commute as your jaw fell open, a shaky hand attempting to ease some of the pressure below, but they only increased their intensity. They could see you falling apart with little regard, their own balls tensing at the approaching orgasm, but they weren’t done with you yet.
“Off please.” You mumbled to Eddie, his brows furrowed in concentration, catching your gaze as you rested your head on his shoulder. 
“No baby, not tonight,” He whispered, which ignited a whine that he quieted, “You’re being good sweetheart, just not tonight.”
Steve wondered what you were referencing, but found it pointless to question now as Eddie wasn’t allowing it. He glanced down to see himself slotted between your legs, a glistening mess that made his stomach clench. A deep moan left your stomach as you began to shake, crying out at the overstimulation and feeling yourself losing control. 
Eddie’s ring clad hands seared into your hip, attaching his lips to your neck as Steve leaned in to snatch your lips. The kiss was fierce, desire overcoming all of you in mere moments as the finish line came in sight. Your boyfriend groaned and threw his head back as he came, body shaking as the tightness of your ass strangled him. 
Somehow Steve managed to get you to finish before him, his fingers moving quickly against your clit until you cried out, letting himself release. He shivered against your chest, your nipples grazing across his damp skin, trying to use his free hand to hold himself up. 
The whimper you released was inevitable as Steve slipped out, rolling to his side, and Eddie pulled out. The emptiness was jarring as you tried to come back down to Earth, a mixed set of emotions encompassing you as the boys helped you lay down, molding between them. 
As the intense huffs subsided, your eyes fluttered open to see two sets of brown ones looking at you with affection. Eddie’s calloused thumb came to your cheek, wiping the stray tears that had slipped, and Steve’s firm hand rubbed your hip. 
“You feelin’ okay, baby?” Eddie asked, tilting your head up, knowing eye contact can sometimes be difficult for you after intense sex. He can see your hazy look, blinking blankly and nodding slowly. “Let’s get you cleaned up then you can sleep, okay?” 
The question didn’t need an answer as he pulled on his boxers, lifting your body up and carrying you bridal style across the hall as Steve picked up his boxers from the floor. He sat on the edge, stretching his back that he thought was pulled after the intense climax, but the exhaustion waved over him instead. Rubbing his eye lids, he lost track of time in his own daze, hearing the squeak of the bathroom door open. He looked up, Eddie smiled and raised his eyebrows quickly with you in his arms. 
“She about fell asleep in there,” Eddie chuckled, “Stay the night, man. It’s getting late.” He told Steve, bending down to snatch his discarded shirt and put it on your body. Steve nodded, scooting back to his original placement on your right while Eddie went to your left. 
The rustling made you squeak, just on the brink of slumber, nuzzling into the both of them. Hushing you, they both maneuvered the shirt onto your body, opting to forgo the panties due to your sensitivity. Your soft snores vibrated against Eddie’s chest, your bottom against Steve, as they laid on their backs.
“What did she want off?” Steve asked, breaking the silence, his friend looking over at him in confusion, “Towards the end. You said she was still good, but not now.”
A blush settled on Eddie’s cheeks, looking down at you and kissing your head. A laugh threatened to form as he tried to word it as clean as possible.
“She wanted the condoms off.” He replied, watching Steve’s eyes open wider, rubbing a hand on his face with a small sigh of disbelief. “We only do it every once in a while, for obvious reasons, but she usually asks for it when she’s small.” 
“She’s gonna kill me.” Steve mumbled, making Eddie laugh with a yawn cutting him short, now yawning as well. He wasn’t sure what the morning would look like, but he didn’t have the energy to think about it, he was going to enjoy what the night had brought him.
He needed to start playing Go-Fish more.
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hi! thank you for reading, mwah!
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sp0o0kylights · 10 months
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Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 
Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 
First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 
It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 
The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 
As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 
Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 
Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 
Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 
Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.
Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson." 
Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea. 
"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--" 
"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 
"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 
"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 
"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 
"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though." 
He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 
Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  
The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 
 "Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 
Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 
"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"
They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him. 
Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes. 
A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it. 
Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.
"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise. 
Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement. 
He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose. 
“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.” 
Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest. 
The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time. 
“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it. 
One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands. 
“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.” 
Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm.  “You can touch mine if you want.” 
Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second. 
He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up. 
Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red. 
“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?” 
Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face. 
“Did he do that?” He asked. 
Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?” 
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?” 
Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up. 
“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.” 
It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something. 
Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy. 
As always, it turned out to be the wrong move. 
"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room. 
“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds. 
The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!" 
Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him. 
“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp. 
The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things. 
“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back. 
This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces. 
"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently.  “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”
"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway. 
Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady. 
Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both. 
Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with. 
Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently. 
“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here." 
Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise. 
 “No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children. 
"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare. 
 As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.
 "He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.
"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”
"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!" 
Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together. 
"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step. 
"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back. 
“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.” 
He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was. 
“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.
One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it. 
The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him. 
It was fake as hell, but it worked. 
“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.  
 Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that. 
xXx 
Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list. 
He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt. 
It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them. 
It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on. 
They really were looking for someone. 
Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.
Them. 
Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards. 
“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy. 
She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke. 
His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.
“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel. 
Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide. 
Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy. 
Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself. 
"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell. 
"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels. 
He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet. 
Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.
Food workers.
Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes. 
"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it. 
Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”  
‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held. 
“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways. 
Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another. 
"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.” 
Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees. 
Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down. 
Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head. 
Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them. 
What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent. 
Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale. 
‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’ 
Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed. 
Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful. 
Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong. 
Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat. 
It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)  
Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high. 
Worse?
This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look. 
Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.
Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.
What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls. 
“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that. 
The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order. 
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nats-firefly · 2 months
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favorite crime
natasha romanoff x reader
summary: she wanted to sign the accords, you didn’t, and you didn’t see another way out
warnings: angst, some swearing
a/n: i know i originally said no pt 2 but i'm reconsidering (the reason i'm reposting is because i had an idea for a pt 2)
🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩
words: 1.5k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist
divider source | gif source
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“For the record, this is what making things worse looks like,” She gripped your arm as you walked down the long hallway. “Try not to break anything while we fix this.”
She threw you a hard look and you turned your body to Steve, looking down and playing with the silver ring around your ring finger. Your heard the people around you exchanging remarks, but you couldn’t take your mind off the way Natasha looked at you.
You looked back down at the simple silver ring on your finger, thinking back to when Natasha gave it to you. 
“It’s more discreet, so people know you’re taken even when you’re working.” 
You thought it was adorable and it gave you something to fidget with on long trips during missions, and it always brought you comfort when you were away. But now it just felt like a weight dragging your body down. Steve bumped your arm, making you look up at his sympathetic smile.
“She’ll come around,” He said. You bit the inside of your lip, turning your attention back down to your hands. You and Natasha hadn’t been able to have a conversation without fighting ever since the accords were brought up. You didn’t want to sign it, she did.
The accords weaved themselves into every conversation you tried having. And you ended up passive aggressively yelling at each other every time before one of you hurt the other’s feelings, the only civil conversation you’d had ended in you lying through your teeth.
“I’m not gonna make you sign it,” She chuckled, running her hands through your hair when you were lying in bed before going to sleep. “But if you don’t sign it, what are you gonna do?”
“I’ll retire,” You said, she scoffed and you looked up at her. You didn’t want to lie, but every other time they were brought up, the two of you ended up in a fight. As much as you didn’t want to. Part of you thinks it’s because you knew they were the start of the end. “What?”
“Really?” You turned on your stomach, leaning up on your elbows and looking at her face, your eyes moving over her lips, her delicate nose, then the arch of her eyebrow. She cupped your cheek, tilting her head and letting a soft smile appear on her face. 
“Nat, we’re getting married,” You twirled the diamond ring on your finger, something you had gotten used to doing ever since she put it on your finger. You finally looked into her eyes. “It’s probably time for one of us to start settling down.”
You were pulled from your thoughts as you started being ushered into a glass office, but before you reached the door, your arm was pulled back by Natasha who led you to a different office, one with more privacy and only one glass wall.
“I told you not to do this,” She said leaning both her hands on the table as you sat on the swivel chair across from her, resting your hands on the table and slouching on the chair. You avoided her eyes as you continued to spin the ring on your finger, you legs starting to bounce up and down. She sighed, trying to control her voice. “Not even a day after the accor-”
“You knew I was never gonna sign th-”
“This isn’t about signing the accords,” She interrupted you, her voice harsh and cold. “It’s about letting things cool down for a couple of days.”
“I wasn’t the one who bombed the conference,” You said, your tone mirroring hers as you sat up and looked her in the eyes.
“No, you were just the person helping him get away with it.”
“It wasn’t him,” You said as she sighed turning to the glass wall, making sure no one was paying attention. “And if you listened to me for one goddamn second, you would know that.”
“And if you hadn’t committed an international crime, maybe I would.”
“Look who’s talking,” You scoffed, looking back down at your hand, your attention returning to the ring on your finger. “As if you haven’t committed several crimes.”
“I never said I hadn’t,” Her fingers rubbed her temples as she pulled a chair up to the table across from you. “But I’ve changed since then, I know better now.”
“Really? It doesn’t seem like it,” You said, refusing to look away from her. Her eyes were locked onto yours. You felt the knot rise up in your throat, feeling your chest tighten with her harsh look on you.  
“Look what we became,” You mumbled out voice breaking and running your hands through your hair. Natasha took a deep breath, looking through the glass wall to see if anyone was looking and taking the time away from your eyes to wipe the tear that had escaped. You sat back, fumbling with the ring on your finger which made another wave of dread rip through you. You loved Natasha and it felt like your heart was being torn out of your chest by letting this get between the two of you.
“Is this what it’s gonna be from now on? Walking on eggshells all the time? And what happens if I do something, are you gonna arrest me?”
“No, I’m not gonna arrest you-” 
“Then what the hell is this?” You mumbled to yourself, but made her pause her sentence, giving you a sharp look. 
“Someone will. And this is an office, Y/N, it’s a hell of a lot better than a cell,” Her eyes were cold and her tone was harsh, it tightened the knot in your throat and you had to swallow hard to keep yourself from breaking apart in front of her. “And what if I’m not there to clean up the mess you make?”
“You’re the one that signed those accords-“
“You’re the one that said you were gonna retire.”
“Then I guess you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.” You raised your voice, trying to keep it from breaking. She fought back the tears threatening her composure, it broke your heart. She probably knew you better than you knew yourself.
She was silent as you returned to playing with the ring on your finger, refusing to look at her. Her eyes however, locked back onto on you.
“Where do we go from here?” Her voice was controlled, her eyes also trained on the way you started taking your engagement ring on and off as you were deep in thought.
“You tell me, Natasha,” You looked back up at her, her green eyes burning holes into your skin.
“I want you to sign the accords,” You rolled your eyes, leaning back onto the chair and looking at the wall.  “Please, for me.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “I know when SHIELD fell, you took a hit-”
“This isn’t about SHIELD.”
“But it is,” She sighed an exasperated sigh as you looked into her eyes.
“I don’t want to be someone you resent,” She said, your eyes making their way back to looking at her. “I already signed the accords, if you signed it, it would solve the problem.”
“You made that decision on your own Natasha,” You said, barely above your breath but loud enough for Natasha to hear. She stopped herself, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “It used to be different between us, it used to be ‘if you were going down, I’m going down with you,’ but now-”
“It’s still like that,” She said, but you suddenly stood off your chair.
“No it’s not,” You raised you voice again. “Ever since you decided to sign the accords, it turned into you against me. I’m not gonna stop, Nat, am I just gonna be a criminal to you now?”
She was silent, and when you blinked, tears escaped out of the corners of your eyes. “There’s only one way to solve this problem now.”
You didn’t want her to have to watch over you for the rest of your lives. You didn’t want to have to keep things from her, and you didn’t want her not to trust you. You were able to read her like the back of your hand just a few days ago and now she felt like a stranger.
“What are you saying?” She asked, hoping you didn’t mean what she thought you did. “Are you gonna sign the accords?”
Your lip quivered as you swallowed the knot in your throat and rolled the thin silver band across the table towards her. The rolling sound of metal on wood echoing around the room. Your vision blurred and you flinched when she slammed her hand onto the ring and dragged it off the table.
Her face hardened and her jaw squared. She walked out of the room as you fell back into your chair, looking up at the ceiling and trying to keep your tears at bay. 
Natasha clutched your ring as she made her way back to the main room, her eyes focusing on Bucky’s video feed, but the sound being drowned out by the ringing in her ears. Her arms crossed around her body as she attempted to keep herself from falling apart. But the look on your face as you refused to meet her eyes was frozen in her mind. 
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rebelfell · 2 months
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bells will be ringing
crush!Steve Harrington x fem!Reader x fwb!Eddie Munson
The annual Harrington Christmas Party is an elegant affair, complete with decorations, fancy food and flowing libations. But when your friend-slash-fuck buddy Eddie tires of you and Steve dancing around your burgeoning feelings for one another…he offers a creative solution. 18+, MDNI 8k
cw: MMF, allusions to poverty and implied family strife, light alcohol and weed use, kinda mean/crass Eddie, semi-public fingering/oral (f receiving), r’s hair gets pulled once.
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The Harrington’s were white light people.
There wasn’t a single inch of their stately home not adorned in festive finery for their annual Christmas party. It was all silver candlesticks with cream-colored tapers, deep red ribbons tied into bows and hung at perfectly spaced intervals, long garlands of rich greenery draped along the banisters—real as shit and smelling like a goddamn pine forest.
It was a far cry from what you and Eddie knew growing up next door to one another way on the other side of town. For you two, it was scrawny and half-dead trees purchased at a discount as close to Christmas as possible when their vendors were just trying to unload them, covered in a hodgepodge of homemade ornaments and faded multicolored lights, only about half of which worked half the time. When your families could afford a tree, that was.
The Harringtons’ own stood at the far end of the house, glowing bright as a nuclear reactor with seemingly endless strands of bright white lights wound around its branches. It was methodically decorated with matching red, silver and gold baubles, each one hung precisely in place and polished to gleaming perfection. 
Elegant. Proper. Pristine.
The party was already well underway by the time you arrived, Steve nowhere to be found in the sea of people. They all stood together in clumps, exchanging jovial smiles that pushed up rosy cheeks, the women cooing over each other's outfits and jewelry while the men swapped stories about their quarterly earnings. Weaving through the throngs, cater waiters floated past carrying trays loaded with hors d’oeuvres and tall glasses of shimmery, bubbly liquid.
It made you and Eddie glance around, furtive and unsure as you skulked into the foyer. The two of you might as well have been invisible for all the attention anyone paid you.
“See Steve anywhere?” you asked, peering deeper inside the house.
The former stud of Hawkins High had always been easy to spot in the hallways of his former domain, seemingly towering over everyone even after he stopped sporting that gravity-defying bouffant hairstyle. Those days were long gone now, but an occasional glimmer of his old self would still shine through, reminding you of when King Steve reigned supreme.
“Nope, nowhere,” Eddie grumbled. “I told you this was a mistake.”
His warm breath on your ear as he leaned in to whisper in it had your head snapping to the  side. Some of the snow that had just started to fall outside dusted his dark, unruly curls and he still had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, as though he wanted to be ready to turn heel and run at the first opportunity. You’d seen him look more relaxed about to shoplift.
“What do you mean?” 
“Look around, sweetheart. See if you can spot what doesn’t belong.”
It was kind of irritating how right he was. Everyone else in attendance tonight looked perfectly at home in this pretty picture. It was all business partners and their wives, clients who probably made more in a year than you or Eddie would hope to see in your entire lifetime, other miscellaneous friends and fellow members of the Hawkins upper echelon.
To call you fish out of water would be putting it lightly. You were like fish on a space station.
“What were we supposed to do?” you whispered back. “We had to come.”
That was debatable. Steve had invited you, yes, but he also practically tripped over himself to assure you it was totally fine if you couldn’t make it. He’d sat on the edge of Eddie’s sofa running through all his most blatant tells—hands pushing through his hair, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, foot jiggling non-stop—as he told you about the party.
“It’s all my parents' friends, so it might be kind of lame. But I’m allowed to invite people if you guys want to come. It’d be really great to see you.”
He’d worked himself up into such a state, it almost felt cruel to say no. You weren’t sure what it was—something about the earnestness with which he asked, and the way his eyes shone so hopefully when you smiled and told him you thought it sounded like fun.
Eddie’s gruff voice sounded in your ear again.
“Think we’re just here to piss off daddy?”
You followed his eyeline to the living room, gaze promptly drawn to the imposing frame of John Harrington as he reached out to grip the hand of someone important. Or at least someone who seemed to think they were. Even never having seen or met him before, he was easy to pick out as Steve’s father. They had the same square jaw, the same perfectly angled nose and rich, light brown hair. Although, John’s was cut shorter and tamed into a much more manageable style than his son’s long locks that lived in a near-constant state of tousled messiness.
“Steve wouldn’t do that,” you said firmly. “He asked us to come because we’re his friends.”
The words still felt strange to say. It made you wonder, yet again, if it would ever stop feeling so surreal that you now hung out with Steve “The Hair” Harrington on an almost daily basis.
When you were in school together, you never even landed on his radar. Eddie had some notoriety as the town’s supposed demon summoner, but you were just…around. A plain face that blended into the crowd; a background extra with no lines in the scene; wallpaper and set dressing for the popular kids who were living out their exemplary lives.
If this was only a few years prior, he probably would be spending this evening sneaking drinks with Tommy H. and Carol, or parading around with Nancy Wheeler on his arm to show her off to all his dad’s colleagues and brag about her getting into Emerson. Instead, his falling out with all of them and his subsequent fall from his high-school throne had led him here—to an unlikely friendship with The Freak and The Invisible Girl.
Whenever he came over to Eddie’s to smoke, or you three piled into his car to go to the movies or drive the winding back roads that snaked along the edge of town, it almost felt natural. And the more time you spent with him, the harder and harder it became to remember why he’d always seemed so…untouchable.
“So, what should we do?” You wondered aloud as you glanced around again, still hoping Steve might materialize somehow. Behind you, Eddie’s head shook and his shoulders shrugged.
“How should I know? You were the one begging to come tonight.”
“I wasn’t begging.”
“Oh, really?” He scoffed as he leaned in close again, raising the pitch of his voice in an overly breathy imitation of you. “Please, Eddie? Please, can we go to the party? I’ll let you eat me out from the back if you—”
“Stifle,” you hissed, jamming your elbow into his stomach.
He grunted at the sharp jab, but his lips remained curled in a sly smirk. “What’s wrong? Worried your little crush will find out what I’ve been doing to you after he goes home?”
“I don’t care if he knows,” you sniped. It’s almost convincing, but the flash of alarm in your eyes told a different story. Not that it mattered, Eddie didn’t buy it for a second anyway.
“Well, that’s good,” he tutted. “Because he already knows we’ve fucked.”
“Wait, what?” You whirled around fully now. “How?”
“He, ahh…” Eddie fought to contain his grin as he scratched at the short stubble on his cheek. “He saw that picture you let me take.”
Your eyes went wide, both horrified and enraged as you shoved his shoulder—hard. 
“You showed it to him?”
“No, he found it,” Eddie hissed. “We were looking around for some weed I had stashed and he happened to open the drawer it was in.”
Your whole body—your very being—surged with white hot shame. If it wouldn’t have given Eddie so much satisfaction, you might have run straight out of the party right then and there. The thought of Steve seeing you like that…
It was almost unbearable.
The details of you and Eddie’s attachment had always been strictly under wraps. You weren’t exactly keeping it a secret, per se, but most people weren’t super accepting of the idea and you’d learned to play it close to the vest. And with how much time the two of you had started spending with Steve, you didn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable.
It had been going on for ages. Pausing, albeit briefly, if one of you found yourself in a relationship, and picking right back up when said relationship inevitably fizzled or if it tipped into the dangerous territory of getting too serious. He was one of the few people in your life you trusted intrinsically, and it wasn’t like guys were banging down your door as it was.
The picture was a one-time thing—a polaroid you’d let Eddie snap as a belated birthday present because you’d been too busy to find him something real.  You had made him swear upon pain of death it was for his eyes only. And now he’d shown it to the last person on earth you wanted to see it? Oh, you were going to garrotte him with tinsel in his sleep.
Also, Steve wasn’t your crush. He was…a preoccupation. A distraction. A vague interest.
You couldn’t even say for sure when it had begun. All you knew was just last spring, there was a month of Friday evenings where you found yourself back in the Hawkins High parking lot pulled in alongside Steve’s distinctive maroon beemer. He was leaning on the hood, waiting for Hellfire to let out so he could drive home his little horde of nuggets, and you had shown up acting as Eddie’s ride while his van was out of commission.
And that night, for the first time ever, you had a real conversation with Steve Harrington.
A fairly illuminating one, at that.
There was a sweetness to him you never would have guessed was there. And a dorkiness that brought light to his eyes when he did his elaborate handshake with Dustin Henderson, or the way he exalted along with the kids when the group burst through the double doors leading out of the school, whooping and cheering from a successful campaign. It warmed your whole body from the inside out, the feeling only growing stronger the more time you shared.
And now he’d seen your bare tits covered in Eddies cum. Perfect, just perfect.
“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered through gritted teeth. “That’s so humiliating.”
“I don’t know,” Eddie said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I think he kinda liked it.”
“He…he did?”
“I mean, he was staring at it pretty hard. I think he needed some alone time with it.”
You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder another shove for good measure, muttering a you're disgusting at him under your breath, hoping it would hide the nerves creeping across your face. Unfortunately, it only seemed to add fuel to Eddie’s fire. He leaned in one last time, his voice a gritty rasp in your ear that made shivers run down your spine.
“So you don’t wanna know what he said, then?”
Tension seized your shoulders as you glared at him, jaw clenched, ready to spit back a vicious comment—or maybe just spit—only to stop short at the sound of a familiar voice.
“Hey, guys! I’m so glad you made it!”
Steve was beaming as he came over, his bright hazel eyes shining, the golden flecks in them brought out by the color of his sweater. He drew you into his embrace, his strong arms curling securely around your body and his gourmand scent filling your nose as you breathed him in.
Your hands smoothed over the planes of his back, relishing in the softness of the knit he wore and the solidity of his broad chest pressed against yours. Your pulse quickened, blood pounding in your ears as you did your level best to force what Eddie had just told you out of your head.
“I’m the coat check tonight,” Steve explained, tipping an imaginary cap. “There’s a guest room upstairs we can put them in.”
“I gotta take a leak,” Eddie said, already shrugging off his leather jacket and pushing it into your arms. “Take care of that for me, will you sweetheart?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, but Eddie just grinned back at you with a suggestive bounce of his brows behind his curled bangs. Steve pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and then turned straight back to you as he tilted his head upstairs.
“Shall we?” he asked.
The sounds of the party became distant and muffled as Steve led you upstairs to the designated dumping ground for all the furs and wraps of the numerous guests. It was dark inside, lit only by the moonlight that streamed through the window and the warm glow of the lights strung on the outside of the house that cast across the heap of coats on the bed.
You laid Eddie’s jacket down on a chair in the corner before you began to undo the belt of your own tied around your waist. As the thick, gray poly-blend slid off your shoulders, you shivered at the cool air hitting your heated skin for the first time that night.
When you turned back around, Steve was much closer than you remembered. 
His eyes studied you with a kind of reverence that made your body tingle with excitement in a way you didn’t dare to name. The way he looked at you sometimes…whether it through a haze of pot smoke in Eddie’s trailer, or in the flickering light of a screen at the multiplex, or beneath the harsh amber wash of a single streetlight in an empty parking lot…
It made you wonder.
“You look really nice,” he finally said, his voice as soft as his eyes.
The dress you’d worn was fairly simple, made of maroon velour with a burnout pattern of leaves you thought looked a bit like holly. It was loose and flowy, but had laces in the back you had pulled tight so it cinched in your waist and pushed up your chest, not unlike a corset. The neckline was just low enough to flirt with impropriety and it nicely complimented the length of the pendant that sat in the center of your clavicle.
A dainty (fake) gold snowflake you thought was festive.
“Thanks,” you replied, your voice even softer than his as you folded your arms in front of your stomach. “I hope it’s okay. I don’t have a lot of nice outfits.”
Steve shook his head, captivated eyes still scanning over you. They landed briefly on your legs, the black stockings you’d worn in an attempt to stave off the cold now prickling warm on your skin as if it was his hands running over them instead of just his gaze.
“You always look perfect,” he said.
It’s not just the words that made you falter, but the plainness with which he states them. As if it’s something obvious. As though he thinks it all the time and he just happened to say it this time. It makes your stomach twirl and all at once, you feel like an empty-headed teenager standing at her locker, dizzy from being complimented by the cutest boy in school.
“So, this is quite a spectacle,” you chuckled, glad for the dimness of the room that somewhat hid your reaction to him. “Are there any poinsettias left in Hawkins?”
Steve smirked and took a careful step forward. There was only about a foot of space between you now, if that. “I think if there were, my mom would already have a guy on it,” he said.
Your eyes met his and you shared a soft laugh. “Well, it’s really beautiful,” you sighed. “It must have taken her ages to do all this.”
“Not really,” Steve chuckled. “She has, like, a whole team that comes in and puts it all together.”
“Oh, right. Of course.” Your gaze dropped and you gave a regretful shake of your head. Rich people stuff, you thought a bit bitterly. No wonder that hadn’t occurred to you. “But…you must decorate the tree together, at least. Right?”
“No, they do that too. I’ve, uh…I’ve never actually never decorated a tree for Christmas. I kind of thought that was just something they did in movies.”
He huffed out a laugh, trying to hide the sadness that had started to pollute his smile, and rubbed the back of his head, tugging at the hair there that curled along the nape of his neck.
All you could do was stare.
You thought about that gleaming, twelve-foot behemoth downstairs with its dazzling lights and ornaments all spaced and hung so perfectly. It was stunning—looked like something straight out of a magazine. But now it was tinged with something hollow and unsatisfactory. 
Cold. Fake. Empty.
It was you who stepped closer this time, the muscles in your arm tensing as if fighting against your brain’s instructions to reach out and touch him. He was close enough now you could feel the warmth coming off his body and smell the spice of his cologne and the clove cigarette he must have smoked. Your lips trembled, parted slightly, still searching for what to say.
But words refused to come.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Steve soothed, flashing you that easy and charming smile you’d grown to love and loathe in equal measure. “I just meant, like, Christmas really isn’t a big deal to me. And neither is this party, honestly, but…”
He fell silent as his hand reached out to squeeze your elbow, the soft pad of his thumb rubbing gently across your forearm. You stared mutely at his hand where it rested, already dreading how cold it would feel there when he let go of you. Except he didn’t.
“I’m really happy you’re here, though,” he said.
Steve’s chest rose with a sharp inhale and the tip of his tongue swiped along his bottom lip to wet it. His head tilted towards you, a few stray pieces of hair falling into his eyes that were bright and shiny with the string lights around the window reflecting in them. 
It made your own breath catch, praying you weren’t imagining it as he started to lean in.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
You and Steve flew apart like shrapnel, both of you too wrapped up in the steady draw of your bodies together to notice the heavy thump of Eddie’s footsteps in the hall. Steve’s hand came up automatically to run through his hair, dragging up the bottom of his sweater and flashing the briefest glimpse of torso as his arm lifted. It made your mouth dry as a bone.
“I just realized I forgot about my hostess gift,” Eddie said.
His brow cocked at you and yet another little smirk curved along his lips as he brushed past, nudging you ever so subtly back in Steve’s direction. He then started to rifle through the inside pockets of his leather jacket until he exhumed a plastic bag with a few joints inside.
“Got it!” he chimed, holding it up triumphantly. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”
The little baggie sailed through the air, crinkling when it hit Steve in the center of his chest. 
“Oh! Thanks, man,” he chuckled, fumbling to catch it. “That’s great.”
Turning it over in his hands, he paused, mulling in silence as he stared down at the joints and glanced over his shoulder at the open doorway. From downstairs, you could now hear the faint tinkling of a piano being played and Eddie noticeably winced at the first few warbled notes of an unrecognizable carol being sung by a particularly drunk chorus.
“You know,” Steve said slowly. “We could bail on the party. Take this out to the pool house?”
As soon as he asked, his eyes darted up to meet yours—interrupting your intense study of the side of his face. Round and hopeful, they shone with his earnestness and you felt dizzy all over again. It made your brain scramble, trying to act like you weren’t just consumed by thoughts of what might or might not have been about to happen. You smiled.
“What are we waiting for?”
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Steve left the lights off in the pool house, not wanting to draw too much attention if someone wandered onto the patio for some fresh air. The three of you made your way out in shifts—you with a plate of decadent treats you’d filled from the long table of desserts, Eddie with one loaded with food he’d swiped from the circulating trays, and Steve with a bottle of champagne he’d snuck out of the kitchen while the caterers were distracted.
The satisfying pop of its opening bounced off the walls that were mostly windows, sounding all the more illicit and clandestine in the darkness. The contents of the bottle fizzed as he held it out, offering you the first swig, and you took it with a nimble grasp.
Bubbly liquid splashed on your tongue and the dry, almost acidic, taste of it surely would have impressed someone with a more refined palette. But it made you wrinkle your nose as you squinted to read the French name scrawled in a loopy script on the shield shaped label.
“Gross, right?” Steve chuckled as you handed the bottle back. “But it gets the job done.”
He took a deep swig, head tipping back and giving you a long, long moment to study his neck as the muscles flexed with his swallow. You stared shamelessly, transfixed by the pairs of moles that sat along the line of his strong jaw, head empty of thoughts except how much better thechampagne would taste if you were licking it from his lips.
Eddie coughed, all loud and fake, drawing both of your eyes to him where he sat on a rattan sofa in the center of the room. He stared at you expectantly as he slouched down further in his seat, his knees spread wide and his arms draped across the back. He’d wasted no time making himself more comfortable, loosening the evergreen tie you’d made him wear and rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt he normally only broke out for funerals or the odd court appearance.
“Don’t I get some of that?” he asked with a wry smirk.
Steve hurried to offer him the champagne, wiping away a little dribble of it that had started to trickle down his chin. You followed behind and slotted into a chair adjacent to Eddie’s as Steve handed off the bottle, making your brain short circuit when you saw the way his wide grasp nearly engulfed the entire bottom. It didn’t restart until he settled in the seat next to you.
After taking his sip, Eddie sparked up one of the joints and started it in a rotation along with the champagne. After only a few pulls from each you started to feel the effects, your head getting all light and floaty, your body warming from the blood pumping through you, your skin buzzing from the way your fingers kept brushing Steve’s whenever you passed him the joint or the bottle. 
Or maybe it was from the way his eyes lingered on yours when you did.
Eventually, you dropped out of the rotation and sank back in your chair to gaze up at the house. The whole thing seemed to glow with the warmth of the party within, its windows bright yellow, the lights twinkling on the eaves. And the snowfall had remained soft and steady, dusting everything with a fine layer of white like powdered sugar.
The picture was immaculate, like a life-size snow globe. If Steve’s mother had somehow managed to pay Mother Nature as a decorator, it wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest.
“Seriously, Harrington,” Eddie snorted, evidently sharing in your bewilderment. “If all this is just the weekend before, I’m scared to ask what your family does for the main event.”
A deep chuckle bubbled out of his chest as he took a long swig of the rapidly draining bottle. He’d said it mostly as a joke, but Steve’s reaction revealed a nerve had been struck. He began to cough, sputtering out his words as he pulled the smoldering joint from between his lips.
“Oh no, it’s not—they aren’t, uh…they won’t be here.”
His eyes darted to the floor as he shook his head and stammered out his non-answer, wearing that same look on his face you’d seen in the guest room. Half-sad and trying to hide it.
“What do you mean?” Eddie asked. Steve just shrugged.
“They always go away for Christmas. I think it’s St. Barts this year. Maybe Turks and Caicos? Their flight is sometime tomorrow night.”
“Wait, so…they just leave you here?” you asked. “By yourself?”
Steve shrugged and shook his head again, the move almost reflexive, like flinching away from the sting of alcohol cleaning a fresh wound. “A nanny would stay with me when I was little. But from the time I was old enough…yeah, pretty much.”
You and Eddie’s eyes met, the same unthinkable thought seemingly crossing your minds. You actually felt bad—not just bad, but sad—for Steve Harrington. 
“It’s not so bad, seriously,” he said, all flustered trying to salvage the mood. “I just hang out and watch movies and eat pizza. It’s fun. Honest.”
Despite his attempts, you can’t help but frown as you think what Steve’s Christmas will look like. His big house that was bursting at the seams with people right now being cold and desolate; him sitting all alone at a long dining room table eating leftover appetizers for every meal.
The thought tugged at something buried deep inside you. Something you’d packed away long ago and shoved into the furthest recesses of your mind. A box wrapped and taped and stapled and tied shut and then shoved behind a closet door. It made you turn to look at Eddie and he nodded knowingly, needing no words to know what you wanted him to say.
“You should come over,” he said, speaking so suddenly it came out loud in the tense quiet.
Steve’s head lifted. “What?”
“To me and Wayne’s,” Eddie supplied. “For Christmas Eve. We have dinner together and watch old movies and play games and shit. With this one.”
He jerked his thumb at you and you smiled as Steve’s eyes flitted over to meet your gaze.
“Only because they can’t cook to save their lives,” you said, shooting him a wink that made the corners of his mouth curl upwards.
“It’s not gonna be like this,” Eddie assured. “But it’s something, you know?”
“That, um…” Steve looked down at his lap, his long lashes fluttering as he tried to blink back the beginnings of tears. “That sounds really nice.”
Your hand moved without permission, reaching out to close around his wrist and squeeze. Steve’s head turned, staring at it like he thought he was dreaming. And as your brain suddenly caught up with the action and your body flooded with embarrassment, you started to pull it back only to feel the warmth of his palm covering your hand to hold it in place.
The only sound in the room was yours and Steve’s soft breathing and you swore you could feel the way both of your pulses were racing in time. His eyes lifted to meet yours and you became entranced all over again by his handsome face, the freckles that dotted his tanned skin, hazel eyes that shimmered as he scanned your expression, the deepness of his cupid's bow.
“I, um…I should check in with my mom real quick. You guys, uh…sit tight.”
Steve sputtered out his words as he rose to his feet, leaving your skin cold as he pulled his hands from yours. He looked around, his eyes searching to land on anything besides you or Eddie as he turned and stumbled towards the door. Eddie watched you watch Steve leave, an expression on his face as bemused as it was mocking.
“Jesus Christ, you two are exhausting.”
He shook his head, laughing to himself as he stuffed the last of the appetizers in his mouth. You glared back at him as he chewed and tried not to think about how your hand still burned where the ghost of Steve’s warmth remained.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on. If I knew I was gonna have to watch you make googly-eyes at each other all night, I could have stayed home. I get enough of that as it is.”
“We’re not—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Eddie scoffed. “You are. He is. Just make a move, already.”
It was actually painful rolling your eyes as hard as you did. “Right. Sure. And what kind of move am I supposed to make? Considering how he ran out of here just because I touched his arm?”
“You’re not serious, are you? You’re pulling my dick, right?”
Eddie hunched forward as you deadpanned him, answering with a slow blink of your eyes and humorless expression until he threw his head back in a loud laugh.
“He had a fucking boner, smartass!” he cackled.
It’s not only your cheeks that warm now, but your whole body igniting like a bonfire. The feeling grips your shoulders, it’s talons digging into your flesh, threatening to pierce it to the bone.
“Bullshit,” you whispered, your mind reeling.
“You think I don’t know Steve well enough to know when he goes from six to midnight? It happens literally any time you touch him.”
Eddie was still snickering to himself as he took a final puff of the joint that had been smoked down to a nub. You stared at your hands in your lap, thoughts going into overdrive. Because this wasn’t just some random guy at the Hideout or an ex-classmate hitting on you at a house party. This wouldn’t be just a fumbled touch, grabby hands groping blindly in a dark closet that you would recount to Eddie before he gave you the orgasm you’d sorely been denied.
This was Steve. This would be something. Wouldn’t it?
“Only one way to find out,” Eddie said, as though he could hear the question you were asking yourself. “Anything’s gotta be better than this.”
“But what if he—”
The rattle of the doorknob cut you off, your eyes darted to the door just as Steve pushed it open to slip back inside. Eddie’s dark curls fell forward, sliding off his shoulders as he leaned in.
“Just follow my lead,” he whispered.
Your eyes bulged in your skull, but before you could retort or argue, Steve had plopped back down in the chair next to you and your lips were effectively sealed.
“So the singing is still going on,” he chuckled. “But I think everyone will head home soon. We aren’t missing much.”
“That’s okay.” Eddie groaned softly into a stretch as he settled back into his reclined position. “I’m sure we can think of something to do.”
Heat flooded your core at his insinuating tone and you sat up a little straighter. He let his head loll to the side, his eyes finding yours automatically, dark irises glinting in the scant light.
“Hey…c’mere, doll.”
Eddie shifted down in his seat, rubbing his ringed hand across his thigh as an invitation. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the fancy, and surely expensive, champagne you’d been sipping all night. Maybe it was the way Steve’s gaze followed you so intently as you stood and walked over to where Eddie sat on the wicker sofa. Whatever it was, it was working.
You laid your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you kneeled on the cushion next to him and went to straddle his lap. But his hands came up to grip your waist and stopped you.
“Uh-uh,” he said, motioning his index finger in a circle. “Other way.”
You hesitated, glancing from your crouched position over at Steve. His eyes smoldered in the darkness as he watched you—leaning forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees, his long fingers laced in front of him. With a hard swallow, you stood and turned.
Eddie jerked you back against him, roughly pulling you flush with his chest. His knees pushed between your own and he spread them wide so your legs were held open, draped over the tops of his thighs. It made the skirt of your dress glide upwards, hem skimming the tops of your stockings, threatening to reveal the strips of bare skin between them and your panties.
His words from earlier still rang in your head. Follow my lead.
Well-worn hands splayed wide across your stomach, squeezing at the softness of your waist. Beneath you, his hips began to shift and the beginnings of his hard-on pressed insistently into the fat of your ass. It made you shiver all over, a gasp falling from your lips.
“So well behaved,” Eddie hummed, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips, suddenly gripping your chin in his hand to turn your face towards him. “She’s such a good girl, Stevie…. and we have so much fun together…”
The words and the deep timbre of his voice sent more shivers down your spine as he bumped the tip of your nose with his own. He pecked lightly at your lips until they opened up for him, his tongue probing the warm cavern of your mouth until you were moaning into his kiss.
It was lazy, but punishing. He nipped gently at your top lip, his own feathering with a tiny snarl as he revered back to his conversation with Steve.
“Why don’t you tell her about that photo you found?” he asked, hot breath fanning across your cheek. “Tell her what you thought about it.”
Your gaze flashed to Steve’s and you wondered if there was more light in here whether you’d be able to see a rush of scarlet covering his cheeks. His eyes had gone round with nervous energy, but they remained locked onto yours as he spoke.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he rasped, his voice almost cracking his throat was so tight. “I wish I could see it again, I…I wish it was me she’d done that for.”
The pit of your belly burned at his words, a breathy sigh fluttering in your chest and an exquisite ache now radiating between your legs. Eddie’s fingers trailed along the center of your body, over your sternum, tracing the dip of your navel through your dress until it quivered under his touch.
Slowly, he drew up the bottom of your dress like a curtain to reveal your core and the black lace your arousal had begun to seep through. The tips of his fingers stroked your entrance, mercilessly teasing your second set of lips.
“You wouldn’t believe how good she feels, Steve,” Eddie husked, his fingers holding their pace, making you grind into his lap. “Way better than that prissy cheerleader pussy you’re used to.”
The room filled with the sound of your breath and the wet schlick of Eddie’s fingers in your folds.
“Oh, sorry,” Eddie snickered. “I should say honor society pussy.”
Steve’s nostrils suddenly flared, his gaze tearing away from you and your body as if coming out of a trance. You looked back over your shoulder with a horrified look.
“Eddie—”
“Shush,” he snapped, cutting you off by plunging his fingers inside of you. They hooked upwards and your back bowed at the sudden stretch, a broken moan slipping past your lips. Steve’s eyes were drawn to your face at the sound, Eddie’s mention of his ex flying right out of his head.
“You want a taste, Harrington?” he asked, all dark and leading.
A little whimper escaped you at the thought and Eddie grinned wickedly. He smiled as he kissed the back of your neck, his teeth flashing as he nipped at your racing pulse.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? You’d like his tongue?”
“Y-yes,” you gasped, your eyes darting to find Steve’s. “Please.”
At your plaintive mewl, the very moment you asked, Steve instantly rose to his feet and hurried to kneel between yours and Eddie’s spread legs. His long fingers wrapped around the gusset of your underwear and he wrenched them to the side to reveal your dripping core.
He licked his lips as he stared at it, practically salivating. Your own lips trembled, fighting back the urge to cry out for him as you let your head fall back to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.
The wet heat of his tongue met your pussy in long, languid swipes. He nodded his head with each motion, dragging it through your folds as he inhaled deep and needy breaths of your scent like you were his air. His eyes burned with lust as he looked up from between your thighs, gauging your every reaction in the way you fluttered around his tongue.
With a trembling hand, you reached out and brushed your fingertips along his brow, skimming the stray pieces of hair that had fallen forward into his eyes. The intensity of his stare, the depth of his gaze, made you glow brighter even than that behemoth of a tree inside.
He sped up his movements, working you up, the tip of his tongue pointed to swirl in a pattern as magical as it was maddening, flicking it teasingly over your clit and making you clench with each too-quick pass. At the same time, you felt Eddie’s hand creep up between your shoulder blades, fingers weaving into your hair to grasp it at the root. He gave it a firm tug and pulled your head back, bringing his lips to your ear so he could whisper to you—deep and rough and just loud enough for Steve to hear.
“Why don’t you tell him how long you’ve wanted this, huh?”
Another pitiful whimper left your lips as Eddie’s other hand squeezed a little more intensely at your chest, tweaking your nipple through your dress, loving how it made you tremble.
“Si-since Junior year,” you panted. “When he w-won the state swim meet…”
Just the thought of that day nearly has you flooding Eddie’s lap and Steve’s mouth. Your mind filled with the memories of it—visions of him in a Speedo that confirmed just about every rumor you’d ever overheard in the girl’s locker room; his arm and back muscles rippling as he pushed himself out of the pool; water spilling over freckled skin, droplets collecting on his shoulders and running down, down, down to where the small of his back met the fullness of his ass.
You had sat in the stands, thighs pressing together, feeling almost perverted staring while he celebrated with his teammates and whipped off his swim cap, his wild hair exploding out of it and making you wonder how he’d even managed to fit it all underneath in the first place.
The mere mention of his glory days seemed to have a similar effect on Steve. The movements of his tongue and lips turned more fervent, more determined to unspool you as he moaned like he’d never tasted anything as good as you.
Tremors began to roll through your body, making your thighs twitch and spasm.
“Tell him how good it feels,” Eddie husked, hips now punching up to create some friction against his own cock as it strained inside his dress pants. “Tell him how much you like it.”
“Yes, Steve, fuck—I love it so much,” you whined. “Keep going, I need it.”
The pretty lilt and waver of your voice had Steve unraveling before your very eyes. Another low groan rumbled from deep in his chest and he buried his face further, more eagerly, in your heat.
“God, you taste so fucking good, honey,” he moaned. “I could do this all night.”
The thought of having his mouth on you all night is enthralling, but there was no way you would last. You were barely going to make it another minute as it was. Steve was too good. 
Every flick, every swipe, every swirl of his tongue you could feel in your entire body. Pleasure rushed across you in waves, a torturous winding upwards, that burning feeling deep in your gut coiling tighter, tighter. Your breaths grew shallow and your pulse raced until you were shaking in Eddie’s lap, fighting so hard to keep your legs spread apart that they shook from the effort.
Steve’s hands came up to grasp at your thighs, his fingers squeezing at the meat of them as he kept you pried open for him to ravish. Like a man possessed, he lapped and sucked and kissed at your entrance, his whole body seeming to move along with the motions of his tongue and lips. Beneath you, the wicker couch suddenly slid backwards and you realized it was because he had tried to grind against it—desperate to feel something, anything, against his cock.
Wishing it was you.
“C-close, close, I’m so close. Steve, I’m co—oohhh—”
Your orgasm rushed in, plowing through your body, making you lose all sense. You squirmed wildly in Eddie’s lap, almost having forgotten he was there until he reached around to give both of your nipples one last pinch—knowing how it always pushed you further over the edge.
Steve’s lips never left your clit and his eyes never left your face as he ushered you into your climax. He stared up at you, his eyes all glassy and round, searching for your reassurance as he rose from between your legs. His face hovered in front of yours and he lifted a hand to cup your jaw, his massive palm warm on your flushed skin as you panted to regain your breath.
“Good?” he asked. Hushed, like a prayer.
“So good,” you exhaled, chest still heaving. Your voice wobbled as you spoke, so overwhelmed with all your buried feelings being dredged to the surface. “Steve, that was—”
“Steven? Are you out here?”
Every hair on Steve’s head went flying as he whipped his head around hearing his mother’s voice. Through the sheer curtains, he could see her as she stepped outside onto the porch, peering into the darkness, wrapping a fur stole tighter around her elegant cocktail attire.
Panic struck his face like lightning, his mouth hanging open, his lips and chin still shiny with your spend. He looked back at you, his cheeks nearly as deep red as the velvet ribbons hung all over his house. You scrambled off Eddie’s lap to stand, frantically straightening your dress and hair, nervously wiping at your lips that were swollen from biting down when you came.
“I, um…the party’s probably over,” Steve said. “I just have to say goodbye to some people.”
He ran his hands through his hair a few more times as he strode towards the door, even though any damage you’d done grabbing it must have been righted by now. You looked over at Eddie, your own eyes swirling with questions you were terrified to hear the answers to.
His shoulders bounced, standing to tuck his shirttail back into his dress pants.
“Well, that’s one way to do it.”.
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Steve was waiting in the foyer with you and Eddie’s coats when you snuck in from outside. His parents, thankfully, were too occupied giving the caterers instructions for clean-up to exchange any pleasantries at the door. You could only imagine how that would go…
Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. I’m the girl your son made come all over his face in your pool house. What a lovely party, thank you so much for inviting us.
There was still a smile on Steve’s face, though it felt almost pasted on now compared to his expression when you first arrived, sort of forced in an attempt to look more normal than he felt. He handed off Eddie’s leather jacket and then held yours open, his eyes remaining glued to you as you turned and pushed your arms through the sleeves. His fingertips trailed along the nape of your neck as he helped straighten the coat on your shoulders, his index tracing its curve all the way to your hairline in a way that felt so intentional it made your skin buzz.
With your ears pounding from your heartbeat thundering in them, you spun around to face him, your lips parted to speak only for no words to come. Because what was there for you to say? Or for him to do? Kiss you? He hadn’t even done that during, would he do it now to say goodbye?
Steve’s handsome face was as conflicted and contorted as your own. A faint blush still dusted along his cheeks and his eyes shone bright from the candlelight coming off the tapers that had burned almost all the way out. At last he drew a breath, and you felt your heart stutter.
“Thank you for coming,” he said softly.
Eddie could barely contain the snort that burst out of him, even as he slapped a hand over his crooked smile and your eyes shot daggers straight into his chest.
You couldn’t get out the door fast enough.
There was only silence as the pair of you trudged along the driveway to the street where Eddie had parked his van, the snow on the ground having melted into slush mottled with gray where it mixed with excess oil on the road. Without the glow of the Christmas lights coming off the rest of the houses in the neighborhood, the darkness of Steve’s street now felt oppressive. 
It made you walk a little quicker to the van, your hand curled tight around the passenger side door handle waiting for Eddie to unlock it. As the two of you climbed inside the cab, he cranked the engine and flipped open the air vents for the heat to blast, finally breaking his silence as you yanked your door shut behind you with a sharp tug.
“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I thought I was helping,” Eddie muttered, his hands gripping tight around the steering wheel. “You were being so fucking obvious, I thought you needed a push.”
His chunky rings glinted in the street light as he busied himself messing with the radio, static scratching in your ears as he searched for something besides Christmas music.
“Are you really mad?” he asked, still fiddling with the dial, barely able to look at you. 
You shook your head.
“I just…I don’t know, I feel like it’s weird now.” You let your face fall into your hands and shook your head furiously. “I mean, was that totally fucked up? To do that?”
“Nah, that wasn’t fucked up,” Eddie said assuredly. 
He sounded confident enough that you let your shoulders actually relax and finally expelled the breath you were holding. The relief was short-lived though, when Eddie piped up again.
“I’ll tell you what might be, though.”
With a heavy sigh, you looked over at him warily. “What?” you asked.
Eddie sighed as he slumped back against the seat. His foot rested on the gas pedal and he pressed it down lightly, barely revving the engine to get some hot air flowing from the vents.
“When he comes over for Christmas Eve.”
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Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate any time taken to read/comment endlessly ♥️
Started on this last year in December so that should tell you everything you need to know about my writing process. Enjoy some Christmas in whatever-month-you’re-reading-this. 😉
400 notes · View notes
supernovafics · 4 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝟐)
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PART ONE | PART TWO
pairing: singledad!steve harrington x divorcedmom!fem!reader
word count: 15.9k words
summary: in which you hate him and he hates you— and that mutual disliking is perhaps the only thing you and him manage to agree on. you make it your mission to avoid and ignore steve at all costs, and nothing more or less than withering stares and annoyed eye rolls are shared among you both whenever you have to see each other, which luckily isn’t that often. but when your son and his daughter end up in the same first-grade class and quickly become friends, it forces things to change between you two. it means that you and him also have to be friends, or, at the very least, tolerate each other’s presence. which is something that is much easier said than done
warnings: modern!au, enemies (to friends) to lovers, steve and reader are in their late 20s/early 30s, bestfriend!eddie, mentions of cheating/an affair (reader’s ex was an absolute asshole), mentions of trust/abandonment issues, some angst, platonic fluff (at first), smut (18+)
author's note: the second and final part! not much to say except enjoy enjoy and happy (almost) new year🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“Do you like Maddie’s dad?”
Hearing that abrupt question fall from Oliver’s lips confused you so much that all you could do was initially answer with a bewildered, “What?”
You were used to Oliver always asking random questions that felt as if they came out of absolutely nowhere; it was especially one of his favorite things to do during any sort of car ride, and this Saturday morning drive to the soccer field for practice was apparently no different. But, you fully did not expect to hear that question from him. 
“Are you guys, like, boyfriend-girlfriend?” He asked, and that follow-up question further confused you, or maybe it more so startled you.
“No… No, we’re not,” You answered and glanced at him sitting in the backseat through the rearview mirror. He was dressed in his dark green soccer uniform, wearing everything except for the cleats because he liked to put them on right before he ran out onto the field with the other kids. “What made you think that?” 
“I don’t know…” You could practically hear him shrug. “But, I think it would be cool if you guys were. Maddie thinks so too.”
You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that. “Oh, okay… But, I don’t think that will happen, bud. We’re friends. Just like you and Maddie.”
“Okay.”
It suddenly felt like perfect timing that you were pulling into the gravelly parking lot next to the soccer field. You helped Olly put on and tie up his cleats before he ran over to Maddie and the other kids already on the field. You grabbed the two coffees that were sitting in the cupholder and then headed to the silver metal bleachers, immediately spotting Steve among the other parents.
He gave you a quick wave and smile and you only nodded and smiled back at him since your hands were full and you couldn’t match his wave. It still felt the tiniest bit insane to you that what you had said to Oliver in the car wasn’t a complete lie; you and Steve were in fact friends, and had been for the past month. 
Just days after you two had the moment in your kitchen where the “enemies” hatchet was finally buried, he and Maddie came to the coffee shop sometime in the afternoon. For the first time ever, you didn’t feel like you needed to pretend to be nice to him. Instead, you found yourself actually wanting to be nice and you were glad about this surprise playdate. And that was when you knew that you two were friends, or at the very least, quickly getting there.
He and Maddie stayed for hours. With Maddie and Oliver sitting and playing games in a two-person booth, and Steve standing with you at the front counter. You two talked about random things— the kinds of things that you had a feeling you both would’ve learned about each other during your first-ever conversation if you two had actually been nice to one another— and then you let him try a new drink recipe that you had been playing around with because he was interested, and that became a sort of routine.
“Hi. Morning. Here.” You handed him one of the cups in your hand before taking your spot next to him in the middle row of the bleachers. “It’s another new thing I’m thinking about adding to the menu for the rest of Fall and maybe Winter too. Tell me your thoughts.”
He took a sip of the drink and then nodded. “This is good. Not as insanely sweet as the last thing you made me try.”
“Okay, I know you hated that latte that I gave you last week, but it’s actually been a big hit so far,” You told him. The sweet drink quickly became popular among the high schoolers that would frequent the coffee shop, and you were glad that you listened to Jude— one of your employees who was also a part of that younger demographic— and put it on the menu. “Oh, also, I think you and I might be getting parent trapped soon.”
“Should I be scared?” Steve asked, looking at you with a confused expression.
You stopped mid-sip of your drink. “Wait, have you not seen The Parent Trap?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Jesus, wow, you need to watch that movie, it’s a classic,” You told him, the shock you felt was evident in your tone. “Anyway, though, what I mean is that I think Olly and Maddie are gonna try to get us together. He mentioned in the car ride over here that they both think it would be cool if we started dating.” 
“Oh.”
“I already told him that that wouldn’t happen and we’re just friends, so hopefully that idea will blow over soon,” You said to Steve and then took a long sip from your drink. 
“Knowing our kids, I kinda doubt that will happen,” He responded, and you actually couldn’t help but agree with him. The way Maddie and Olly had managed to convince you and Steve about the playdate thing after a week’s worth of pestering proved that they wouldn’t let go of anything easily. Thinking about it now, you kinda admired how persistent they had been during then.
“Well, in that case, it’s good that they don’t look alike so they can’t try to switch places. But, we need to make sure that we stay away from boats and camping trips.”
Another confused expression crossed Steve’s face. “I really think I need to watch that movie.” 
“Yes, you do,” You said with a nod as you met his eyes. “As my friend, you need to promise me that you will watch that 1998 classic.”
He laughed a bit. “I promise.”
You turned your attention back to the soccer field and shook your head. “I never thought I’d say that.”
“What?”
“That we’re friends,” You said, looking at him again. “But, it’s nice, though.”
Steve nodded at that and gave you a small smile. “Yeah, it is.”   
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Over the past year, you’d come to savor anytime after 9pm. It was the only time of the day, well night, that you were able to have complete peace— no worrying about Oliver because he was asleep, and no worrying about the coffee shop because it was closed. 
On this particular night, long after Olly’s soccer practice and time spent at the coffee shop, you were in your bathroom, washing your face and putting on pajamas; which simply consisted of a random oversized t-shirt and shorts. You decided that you’d curl up in bed and spend the rest of your night watching a shitty reality show because it somehow always felt nice watching other people’s drama. 
Right as you were slipping on your t-shirt, your phone started ringing on the counter, which stopped the music that you had been playing from it, and you looked down to see that it was Steve FaceTiming you. 
This had happened a handful of times over the past month— him calling you, you calling him. It was usually to get quick answers to questions that either of you two had, but sometimes it was also just to talk about random things whenever a simple text didn’t feel like it would suffice. 
“Hi,” You said as you turned off the bathroom light and shut the door before heading to your bed. “Great timing. Oliver went to sleep about fifteen minutes ago.”
You noticed that Steve was also sitting in bed. He pushed a quick hand through his hair as he spoke. “I learned that if I’m gonna call, I should only do it after nine now.”
The last time he FaceTimed you, Oliver had been sitting next to you on the couch. When he heard Steve’s voice, he immediately asked him where Maddie was, and then she heard Olly’s voice from where she was playing in the living room. Barely a second later, your phones were immediately taken by the kids and they talked for an hour. 
“Great thinking,” You told him with a small approving nod. “I hope that whatever you called to talk about is good because I was just about to watch a very riveting reality show about these housewives taking a trip around Europe.”
“Wow, that sounds very fun,” Steve said, and you could hear the sarcasm in his voice.
“Mhm, it will be. I can’t wait until they get to Paris. According to the trailer, some huge argument is gonna happen when they’re at the Arc de Triomphe,” You responded, matching his sarcastic tone.
“Now, I’m really intrigued,” He joked. “Anyway, though, I called to tell you that I just finished watching The Parent Trap.”
You smiled at that. “I’m glad you did your homework early. Did you like it?”
“It was actually pretty good. Maddie watched some of it with me too, but she fell asleep not even halfway through.”
“She’s too young to understand the cultural importance of The Parent Trap just yet. She’ll come around soon.”
“Also, right after practice, she mentioned the dating thing to me. She said that she and Olly think it would be nice if you and me got together.” 
You let out a small sigh. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “She was very persistent too; asked if I thought you were pretty, and said that I should bring you flowers the next time I see you. Apparently, Oliver told her that your favorite ones are daisies, so I should make sure to get those for you.”
Your eyes widened a bit at his words. If you weren’t so shocked, you were almost certain that you would’ve laughed at how much thought your kids were putting into this whole idea. “Oh, wow, they’re relentless.”
“Are daisies actually your favorite?”
“Yeah,” You answered and then sighed again. You weren’t even entirely sure how Oliver knew that. When you two first moved into your house in Hawkins, you would buy fresh daisies every week in an attempt to make the place feel like a home because you barely had any furniture just yet and there weren’t that many decorations up either. But you couldn’t remember the last time you bought any flowers for the place.
Steve let out an amused sound. “Wow, yeah, Maddie and Olly are good.” 
You dating someone was the farthest thing from your mind, but it surprised you that it was the main thing on Oliver’s. You thought that you’d have a longer time before you’d have to worry about that; before you’d have to think about him really wanting some sort of “dad” or “father figure” in his life. Eddie was the closest thing, but Oliver didn’t see him as often anymore since his California move. 
You thought that the little family that you and Olly had, just the two of you, was enough— more than enough, even. 
“I didn’t think that this would happen this soon,” Steve said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “It’s only been a year since her mom left, so I really didn’t think that she’d want me to start dating, get married, whatever, whatever, anytime soon. And I’m too busy to even think about trying to look for someone.”
You agreed with him completely. And then there was also the fact that you simply didn’t want to date anytime soon. You despised the thought of finally having to start over; even though you knew that eventually one day you would. Maybe. 
As cynical and depressing as it sounded, you couldn’t really imagine it happening for you again— falling in love or just simply falling, deeply liking someone. And a part of you would just rather wholly avoid the possibility at all costs. 
You knew that how things ended with Oliver’s dad was not your fault at all, but that didn’t change the fact that you still felt stupid about everything; for being so blind to the affair and for believing his lies for as long as you did. And the thought of all of that potentially happening again— loving and trusting someone just to have them break your heart and fuck you over in one of the worst ways possible— terrified you. 
You could’ve said all of that to Steve, but you felt like that would’ve been way too long-winded and melancholic, so you decided to just simply nod instead. “I don’t know if we should just get used to them trying to get us together, or talk to them and say that us being anything more than friends is never gonna happen.” 
“If it becomes too much we probably should talk to them,” Steve said, and that made sense to you. “But now I’m glad Maddie fell asleep halfway through the movie because it probably would’ve just given her ideas.”
“Have you seen Freaky Friday?”
“No. Is that another movie that can relate to the situation we’re in right now?” 
“No, it’s just a really good movie. Another Lindsay Lohan classic,” You briefly explained. “You should watch it.”
Steve was quiet for a moment, as if he was really thinking about whatever he was about to say. “How about right now?” 
You laughed a bit before mock gasping at his question. “You trying to get me off the phone, Steven?”
He smiled at your fake offended look. “No, I meant that we could watch it right now. Together over the phone.”
“Oh,” You said, trying to hide your surprise at the suggestion. Watching a movie together was technically a friendly thing to do, but it did feel the tiniest bit intimate; like the two of you were crossing into a slightly altered territory of what your friendship was. That still didn’t make the idea necessarily sound bad to you, though. It sounded fun, a better way to spend the rest of your Saturday night than what you had originally planned on doing. “Okay, yeah let’s watch it. I guess I’ll just have to watch the housewives go to Europe at a different time.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“How’s it going so far?” Was the first thing you heard Eddie say when the call connected, and you couldn’t help but smile into your phone at how excited he sounded. It made you happy that you impulsively decided to call him when you stepped into the back room of your coffee shop; the kitchen area that felt equivalent to a second home for you. “It’s great, right?”
You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, it’s been really good, honestly.”
The “it” that you both were referring to was the open mic night event happening at the coffee shop right then. Eddie had been the one to suggest the idea nearly a year ago, around the time when the shop finally opened.  
“It would make so much sense,” Was the beginning of his spiel. “This place is the perfect size to set up mic stands and speakers in the front by the window. Pretty much any sort of ‘starving artist’ would love to have a space where they can perform, and most people enjoy live music, so doing this will bring in a ton of business.”
You loved the idea and you agreed with Eddie’s points completely, but then he moved to California and it didn’t feel right to do the idea without him. But, he said that he wouldn’t let you not do it. Because no other place in the small town was doing something like this— and that very valid statement was the reason why tonight was already such a success. A part of you wished that you had done the event sooner, instead of continuously putting it off for months and months. 
The setup of it was simple— anyone with any sort of “talent” that they wanted to share was welcome to perform, and after a particularly awkward magician, the majority of the performances were musical, and almost everyone that decided to go up and sing or play something so far were pretty good. You had even teared up at a brother-sister duo that performed a self-written instrumental piece on the guitar and violin. 
“I would say an ‘I told you so,’ but I love you too much to be that much of an asshole right now.”
“Yeah, and another reason why you shouldn’t say any kind of ‘I told you so’ right now is because I’m still slightly mad at you for bailing at the last second and not being here tonight,” You responded, letting out a small sigh. You leaned against the metal table in the middle of the kitchen where a sheet of freshly baked cookies sat next to you. Eddie was also supposed to be sitting next to you at this moment, sneaking a cookie off the sheet, and then you getting playfully annoyed at him for doing so.
“I know, and I’m still really sorry. My publicist decided to set up something early tomorrow that I can’t get out of,” He said, re-explaining what he had already told you earlier that morning. Of course, you weren’t truly upset with him; he was doing what he loved out there in California, and you were doing what you loved right here in Hawkins. “Is Steve there yet?”
“Yeah, he got here like ten minutes ago. I’ve been so busy, though, so I haven’t gotten the chance to say much more than a quick hi to him.” 
Eddie hummed in response. “Has he fully replaced me yet?”
“Oh, shut up. Steve could never replace you, Munson,” You told him, your words a thousand percent true. “You’re more than just my best friend at this point, you’re like my fucking family. You cannot be replaced, and that also means that you can never get rid of me either, so I hope you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“I wouldn’t dream of getting rid of you,” He said, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice; you really missed him being only a ten-minute drive away.
“Thank you. I feel honored. Truly,” You said playfully.
“Oh, also, are Oliver and Madeline still trying to play matchmaker for you guys?” Eddie asked and you rolled your eyes at how amused he sounded. 
Somehow, your attempt in the car that Saturday to shut the dating idea down by telling Oliver that you and Steve were just friends, seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Olly would continuously remind you how much he liked Steve, how cool he was, and how he’d always have the best snacks whenever the kids were having a playdate at his house. Oliver even went as far as to tell you to wear more blue because that was Steve’s favorite color. 
And pretty much the same thing was happening to Steve but with Maddie. According to him, she gushed about you all of the time— perhaps actually convincing Steve to get her a fish only aided in that— and she continued to pester him about buying you flowers. 
But, their antics started calming down over the past few weeks, though, because of every gentle reminder you said to Oliver about how you and Steve were solely friends. It was way too hard to be stern about it because you hated disappointing him and you just really wanted him to be happy. But, before Steve came around, you thought that he was really happy with how things were. 
When you verbalized that thought on the phone to Eddie right then, he simply told you, “Just like you want him to be happy. He wants you to be happy too.”
“Why does he think that happiness comes from Steve?”
“Maybe he and Maddie see something that you two don’t see yet.”
You thought about his words. For a second, you wondered what the kids could possibly see that you and Steve seemed to be oblivious to. 
“Okay, and on that note, I’m gonna go. I’ve probably been gone for far too long. I told Jude that I was just going to grab the cookies that had been cooling for a few minutes and bring them out,” You told him as you took a quick glance at the mix of chocolate chip and sugar cookies again. “I’ll see you in less than a month for Christmas. Oh, and about that, you really didn’t need to buy me and Olly first-class plane tickets.”
You heard his playful scoff. “You guys are my family. Of course, I’m gonna get you first-class tickets.”
“Thank you, and this spoiling treatment is exactly why you’ll never be able to get rid of us,” You said and smiled when you heard Eddie laugh. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you soon.”  
“Bye.”
When he hung up, you slipped your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans. You grabbed the now cooled cookie sheet and exited the kitchen, going back behind the counter with Jude. Since things had somewhat simmered down compared to how lively it had been an hour and a half ago, you told her that she should finally take her break for the night and she happily accepted the offer.
Steve walked up to you as you started placing the cookies in the display case. “Hi.” 
“Hey, thanks for coming.”
“Yeah, of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” He said, and hearing how genuine his words sounded made you smile. 
“It’s probably too late for coffee, so do you want a hot chocolate?” You asked and looked at him once you finished putting the last few cookies in the case. “It’s free. Friend discount for the night.”
“Wow, that’s a really good discount,” Steve said playfully.
“I like to be very generous to the people I care about,” You told him, matching his tone and smiling. “And I don’t have that many friends, so I’m actually not losing out on a lot of money.” 
He smiled back at you. “Now I feel even more honored that I’m one of them.”
You poured some hot chocolate into the blue mug that you would never admit out loud but was pretty much designated as Steve’s at this point. For some reason, you found yourself always making sure to use it for him whenever he wasn’t getting something to-go, and once you learned from Olly that Steve’s favorite color was blue, it felt even more right to use it for him. In your mind, you saw it as a small gesture that didn’t really mean too much, but maybe that wasn’t entirely true. And that was another thing that you’d never admit out loud. 
“Thank you,” He said as you handed the mug over to him. The small smile he gave you let you know that he recognized the gesture and probably had been for the last month and a half. 
Instead of acknowledging the mug or the hot chocolate or anything else, you nodded your head in the direction of the makeshift “stage” area that you had set up earlier with the help of Jude. 
“Any secret talents you want to go up there and share?” You asked, only slightly joking with your question. “There’s a full waiting list, but I can move you to the top, and I promise I won’t tell anyone.” 
“No, it’s okay, I’d rather not cut in front of everyone that was here before me. Next time, though,” He answered and it was easy to hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“I will definitely hold you to that next time,” You said, playing along with him. “So, what’s your talent? Something tells me that you’re killer at the guitar. Ooh, wait, actually the triangle!”
Steve only gave you an unamused look and you tried your hardest to hold back your laughter.
“I’ll take that as a no to the triangle.”
“I’m gonna change the subject now,” He said, and you nodded, deciding to allow it to happen even though you had at least three more triangle jokes ready to go. “Can you please not let me forget to get some cookies for Maddie before I leave? She’s at my parent’s house for the night, but I promised I’d have some for her tomorrow so she can have them right after the soccer game.”
“Of course, I’ll put some to the side for her,” You told him. “I know the chocolate chip ones are her favorite. Same as Oliver.”
“Where is Olly?”
“At home with a babysitter— this super nice eighth grader that lives next door to us. She texted me half an hour ago that he finally fell asleep after watching Finding Nemo two times.”
“Maddie’s current movie obsession is Monsters Inc.,” Steve said with a small laugh. “We’ve been watching it at least once a night for the past week.”
“That’s a great one. She has good taste,” You said and Steve nodded.
You wanted to keep talking to him, but the sound of the music quieting down and soft clapping pulled you out of the conversation. 
“I’ll be right back. Gotta go announce the next person going up. Are you sure you don’t want it to be you?” You asked him teasingly.  
Steve only shook his head and rolled his eyes at you as you started walking away. 
You went up and introduced the next person, a middle-aged guy with a guitar who started playing the acoustic version of a song that you vaguely recognized from the radio. 
Steve was still standing right where you left him, lingering by the front counter and drinking from his mug, and you headed back to your spot behind the counter. He mentioned the PTA meeting last night that heavily talked about the Winter Carnival happening next week and Leslie, the head of the PTA, told everyone what their jobs would be— Steve was assigned to the popcorn station and you were put on the ring toss game. You and Steve already made plans to take the kids Saturday night since the First Grade parents only had to “volunteer” on Friday. He laughed at a joke you made right then about being surprised that you weren’t being forced to “volunteer” Friday and Saturday to make up for the fact that you didn’t help out last year.
Things went like that for the next hour— you two talking and laughing with one another, and some people coming up to order teas and hot chocolates and the occasional latte— until the time hit nine o’clock and the night came to its end. After giving a generous round of applause to the final performer and you announcing the end of this first open mic night, everyone slowly started heading out. 
A few people came up to you, telling you how great the night was and saying that you needed to do this again. You made a mental note to text Eddie later and once again thank him for this idea, and you’d maybe even let him finally say an “I told you so.”
You bagged up three chocolate chip cookies for Madeline and were about to hand them over to Steve, who was now sitting in an empty booth, and say your goodbye to him when Jude came up to you. There was a look on her face that resembled a cross between annoyance and slight worry. 
“I’m so sorry. I just got a call from my brother. He broke his arm while at his friend’s house and he’s at the hospital right now. And my parents are out of town for the weekend, so I’m the only “adult” around who knows all of the insurance stuff and everything, so I have to go. I’m sorry.”
The look on her face immediately made complete sense to you right then. Ever since you hired Jude eight months ago, you became very used to hearing her teenage rambles about her ten-year-old brother who she would constantly describe as the “bane of her existence.” Therefore, the fact that she was annoyed about this incident wasn’t surprising, but it was also a little heartwarming to see that you could tell that she was also, at least, the tiniest bit worried about him. 
“Yes, go. I completely understand. I hope he’s okay.”
“He’s an idiot, but he’ll be fine,” She responded as she joined you behind the counter for a second to grab her jacket that was hanging on one of the hooks and then started heading to the front door. “I’m really sorry again.”
“Don’t worry, it’s okay. I promise. Go, go,” You told her and she nodded. The bell chimed as she opened the door, and chimed again when it fell shut. 
You went over to Steve, sitting down across from him and handing over the bag of chocolate chip cookies. 
“Thanks,” He said, giving you a small smile. “I can stay and help you clean up if you want.” 
“I hope you really mean that because we’re past the point in our friendship where I would politely decline that offer to be nice. I’d actually really love some help right now.”
Steve laughed a bit. “I do mean it. And I owe you for the free hot chocolate and cookies.”
“You don’t owe me at all because that was the friend discount, but I will still accept that reasoning,” You said and smiled at him before slipping out of the booth. 
It was second nature for you to silently go into the routine that you were so used to doing at the end of every night— clearing mugs and small plates off the tables and tossing empty cups into the nearby trash can— and Steve followed suit.
Your mind almost immediately traveled to thinking about tomorrow, already going through and planning out what the day would look like— Oliver’s soccer game was in the morning and then you’d be back here for the rest of the day with Olly taking his spot in his favorite booth and proceeding to work on homework and then playing games, and you’d be at the cash register or in the kitchen working half of the day with Kyle, another one of your employees, and then the other half with Jude. You were then reminded that you would need to check in with her in the morning about her brother and see if she’d even be able to come in tomorrow. 
Your never-ending thoughts should’ve been taking a break for at least an hour or two, it was late and you were exhausted. But, whenever you were here closing up for the night, it was hard not to think about everything that could technically be deemed as “morning problems for tomorrow.” The relief you’d always feel about one day going really well would oh so quickly be replaced with the stressed need to make sure that the next day also went well, which made it completely impossible to not think about it. 
You weren’t sure how long things had been quiet, but when you heard Steve break the silence and softly say, “You okay?” you became aware of how long it had been since either of you had said something. 
“Oh, sorry, yeah, I’m just thinking a lot, I guess. Running through a million things at once,” You told him as you cleared one of the last tables, grabbing the mug full of a half-drunken latte and crumb-filled plate. 
“Okay, yeah, that’s what I thought. You kinda get this certain look on your face when you’re thinking really hard.”
You let out a laugh. “Does it resemble a deer in headlights? Because Eddie’s told me that one before.”
Steve coughed, which you knew was him just trying to hold back his laugh, and you playfully rolled your eyes at him as he spoke. “I feel bad saying yes, but yeah he’s right.”
“Just so you know, you also have a very uncute serious face.”
“I didn’t say yours wasn’t cute.”
You weren’t entirely sure what felt more unexpected; Steve’s words or how immediately affected you felt by them. Any quip or teasing joke you had on the tip of your tongue vanished in a matter of seconds, and your mind effectively became a flustered pile of mush; almost embarrassingly so. 
You were glad that Steve couldn’t see you right then, and you were especially glad that you two were on completely opposite sides of the shop at that moment— you putting the dirty mug and plate in the sink, and him clearing off the final table and tossing a coffee cup and random wrapper in the trash— because that distance meant that there was no way that you could read too heavily into what he just said, and he couldn’t pick up on how awkward and confused you immediately felt because of it.
A forced laugh fell from your lips, and you hoped to God and the universe and whatever else was out there that it didn’t sound completely fake. 
You walked over to the front window, where the makeshift stage area was, and grabbed the mic stand and wooden stool and Steve grabbed the two now unplugged speakers and followed you to the storage closet in the back. Once all of that was put away, you would just need to prep the cookie dough for tomorrow, and then the night would be done. 
“How are your baking skills, Harrington?” You asked him. You met his eyes for the first time in the past few minutes, it felt easier to do so now since your mind was back to only thinking about work.
“I’ve never baked anything before, but I’m good at following instructions.”
You smiled at that answer and it was what led you both to the kitchen. After washing your hands, you grabbed two metal bowls and the ingredients that would be needed for the cookies. And Steve was telling the truth, he was good at following instructions— you did the dough for the chocolate chip cookies, and you told him what to do for the sugar ones since they were a little bit easier, and it was all finished faster than you had expected. You put some plastic wrap over both bowls before placing them in the fridge.
“Thanks for all of the help tonight,” You told him. You both were now washing your hands at the sink that was full of the dishes that were the actual final thing you’d have to do before leaving. “If you’re ever in dire need of a part-time job, you’re hired.”
“Is the employee discount as good as the friend discount?” Steve asked as you turned off the water. He ripped off a paper towel and handed it to you and then grabbed one for himself. 
“It’s twenty percent.”
“I think I’ll just stick to being your friend then.”
That time you did entirely read into his words, as playful as they were. Just friends. That was exactly what you wanted and needed from him. You weren’t in the right headspace to consider being anything else with him, and you weren’t sure you ever would be. 
And besides, you liked being friends with him. It had been completely unexpected, but you liked talking to him, and you liked hanging out with him during Oliver and Madeline’s playdates that now felt like they were playdates for you both too, and you liked watching movies on the phone with him some nights before you went to bed— just last night you’d watched the first Tobey Maguire Spider-Man movie, as per Steve’s request. 
You were perfectly okay with being just friends with Steve, and as you continuously told Olly, it was the only thing that you two would ever be.  
You looked at him right then and he almost immediately met your gaze. 
“I don’t know how I’m just now noticing this, but you got some flour on your forehead,” You told him. Before he could say anything, you stepped closer to him and reached up to brush the white substance away with the damp paper towel in your hand. 
He gave you a soft look and there was a small smile on his face. “Thanks.”
It was obvious what sequence of events should’ve happened next— you should’ve told him that you just needed to clean the dishes in the sink and then the night would officially be done, and he didn’t have to stay for that. You should’ve finally said a goodbye and see you tomorrow to him.
However, right then, neither of you moved, and instead this sudden close proximity and the look and smile on his face made you get hit with the abrupt feeling that you wanted something more to happen, something more than just a friendly goodbye that was maybe followed by a simple hug. 
It was an insane idea that contradicted everything you had just told yourself. But, deep down you knew that the reason why you felt the urge to kiss him right here in this moment was the same reason why you always used the same mug for him every time he came here, and why you refused to admit it out loud. And right then, you still refused to dissect exactly what that all meant and what it would come to mean in the long run. 
Just for a second, you didn’t want to think about anything. You wanted to turn your brain off and simply focus on this moment that somehow felt so fucking right.  
And maybe Steve could read how much you wanted this to happen through the enamored look that you were certain was written all over your face, and that was why he let his hand come up to meet your cheek and why he leaned in closer, which made your eyes fall shut in anticipation. 
There was such a huge part of you that wanted this to happen, that felt as if you needed it to because maybe it had always been inevitable.
However, it didn’t take long for the existential dread to creep into your mind and prick right at the forefront of it. The reminders of why you’d been so scared of something like this happening with anyone for the past three years hit you like a freight train. Once you thought about all of that, you couldn’t force yourself to think or not think about anything else. Your mind was now on Oliver’s dad and what that entire situation with him changed for you— how it made you think about and see everything involving love so differently. 
And it was that painful reminder of what you were now terrified of that made you pull away from Steve and turn your head at the last second.
“I… I’m sorry.” 
Your gaze was fixed on the floor because you couldn’t bear to see what look was written across Steve’s face right then. 
“It’s okay.” His voice was soft when he spoke, which somehow made you feel worse.
“It’s just…” You wanted to say something, but you couldn’t pull your thoughts together fast enough. Your mind was moving in a thousand different directions and you still couldn’t even muster up the courage to simply look at Steve right then.
“You don’t have to explain. It’s okay, really,” He assured you again and you felt like he was being way too nice to you when you felt like the shittiest person.
“No, I wanna explain…” You told him, finally meeting his eyes. It was hard to read what he was thinking or feeling right then. “It’s just… I can’t– I don’t know.” You shook your head at yourself for being at such a loss for words at that moment. “I’m really sorry.” 
“No, don’t be sorry. It’s okay. Let’s just pretend this never happened,” He stepped away from you then, and you let him, deciding not to say anything else— you could no longer trust your voice, anyway. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the soccer game.”
You nodded quickly because you knew that there was nothing else to do. “Mhm, yup, yeah, see you tomorrow.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Oliver gave you a look that he knew you wouldn’t be able to deny— there were puppy dog eyes and a pout that actually made your heart hurt. He was good. And you were weak.
“Okay, you can finish this episode, but then you’re starting your homework, bud.” 
He smiled and leaned back into the couch, turning his attention back to the cartoon that was playing on the television in the living room. “Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome,” You told him. You were completely okay with giving Olly some time to relax after school before starting his homework, but somehow you were almost always convinced by him to turn the thirty minutes into an hour— and maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised that this Wednesday afternoon was no different. 
It was also, overall, a surprisingly calm afternoon. There weren’t a thousand tasks on your plate right then; the calls you had to make and orders you had to place were already done. You had been at the coffee shop the entire morning and some of the afternoon before you had to pick Olly up from school, and Jude and Kyle would be closing for the night. Essentially, you would be free for the rest of the evening and night.
Instead of attempting to find anything to stress about at that moment, you were sitting on the small loveseat in the living room with your laptop balancing on the arm of the chair as you scrolled through the pictures taken during the open mic night.
Having a photographer for the night had been Steve’s suggestion, and it made sense coming from him given that he was in marketing, and he said that posting some on social media would be a good way to promote the event if and when you decided to do it again. You also thought it could be a nice idea to frame some and hang them up in the coffee shop. 
For most of the night, you’d forgotten that there had been a photographer there because of how discreet Shelby had been the entire time. But now you were looking at the edited pictures she emailed you earlier that morning of everything she’d taken barely a week ago, and you were already blown away even though you’d only looked at the first ten so far. 
There were a bunch of shots of people sitting at tables and booths happily enjoying their drinks and food, and there were also some of the people who decided to go up and perform. As you clicked through each of the photos and made mental notes of which ones you’d maybe want to post or hang up, you abruptly stopped at one of you and Steve. 
It shouldn’t have been that surprising to see a photo of you and him, you had been with each other during most of the night, but it still genuinely startled you to see such a candid moment of the two of you.
You were standing on one side of the counter and Steve was on the other— that was the only part of the photo that didn’t surprise you. You couldn’t tell just from that single shot what you two had been talking about in that moment, but it looked like whatever the conversation was about was a good one. There was a wide and elated smile on your face that reached your eyes, which were staring right into Steve’s, and an adoring look was written so clearly across his face along with a small smile. 
It looked like you two were dating; like you were newlyweds, even— if it were strangers in this photo, you would’ve easily thought either of those things. It looked like a picture of two people in love, so completely and utterly in love with each other. 
And it especially looked so goddamn obvious. 
Before even seeing this picture, it was clear to you that you felt something for him— what other reason would have made you almost kiss him that night? But, you didn’t realize just how deeply you felt, and you had forced yourself not to think about any of that over the last few days. You hoped that if you avoided and didn’t think about it, it would all just eventually go away. However, now that it was staring you right in the face, it suddenly became way too hard to deny everything or push it away or even pretend that you hadn’t just seen that picture. 
You were hit so abruptly with the truth that you couldn’t not finally admit it to yourself. You always gave him the same mug when he came to the coffee shop because you liked him. You wanted so badly to kiss him that night because you liked him. Fuck.
You quickly realized that what you saw in that photo was what Oliver and Madeline saw all of the time, and now it made complete sense why they were trying to push you and Steve into each other’s arms. Although you and him were apparently oblivious, they saw how happy you two were with each other. 
Eddie was right.
Your once calmed mind was now back to running a million miles a minute, and it became fully submerged with thoughts of Steve and how you felt about him and the almost kiss that you tried your hardest to forget ever even happened. You felt the overwhelming urge to cry the longer you looked at the photo, but you still couldn’t help but keep staring at it. 
You stood up from the loveseat and took a brief look at Olly before you walked out of the living room, he was laughing at the show on the TV. You went into the kitchen, setting your laptop down on the table and pulling your phone out of where it was in the pocket of the sweatpants you were wearing. You called the only person that you wanted to talk to at that moment, and you hoped that he wasn’t busy even though it was barely noon in California right then. 
When Eddie answered with a happy “Hello” on the fourth ring, you immediately said, “You were right.”
“Right about what?”
You bypassed his question for the moment. “I’m gonna send you a picture and just tell me what you… See in it. What you notice about it.” 
“That sounds very cryptic, but I’m intrigued,” He said and if it were any other moment, you probably would’ve cracked a smile at Eddie’s comment, but you felt way too stressed to do so.  
You texted him the photo of you and Steve through your laptop and when it said “Delivered” after a few seconds, you waited for whatever Eddie had to say about it. He’d be the one to tell you if you were crazy and overthinking things with the picture or not. 
It was quiet for barely thirty seconds before he said something. “Woah. Shit.”
You were mindlessly pacing back and forth from the table to the sink as you held the phone to your ear. “Can I get a full sentence, please?”
“I knew that you liked him, but I didn’t know you were in love with him.”
That was not at all the response you were expecting to hear from him. 
“What? You didn’t— I don’t—” You shook your head and took a breath. “Before seeing that picture, what could’ve possibly made you think that I liked him?”
“From the moment you told me that you and him were finally friends, there was just something about the way you talked about him. And then as you guys got closer and you talked about him more, it just seemed pretty obvious.”
Once again, Eddie said something that was entirely unexpected. It was hard to imagine it— you walking around with a crush that was apparently obvious to everyone but you— but you now knew it was true. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? You never called me out about it.”
“I figured you’d just tell me when you wanted to or when you decided to do something about the crush,” He answered, and that was such a nonchalant and Eddie kind of response that it didn’t surprise you in the slightest bit. “Is this your way of finally telling me?”
“No,” Was your immediate answer. In a way, it felt like a reflex or second nature to deny how you were feeling. “I’m not even sure if I actually have feelings for him.”
Your life would’ve been so much easier if that wasn’t a complete lie. 
Eddie immediately laughed at your words and when you didn’t join in, he stopped. “Oh, you’re being serious. I thought you were joking.”
“It’s just…” You had absolutely no idea how to finish your statement. You sighed and finally sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m really, really confused and scared, Eddie.”
Before he could say anything in response to that, you closed your eyes and said your next words. “Me and him almost kissed.” 
“Woah, what the hell? When?”
“It was last week at the open mic night. He stayed and helped me clean up because Jude had to leave early. We were washing our hands after making cookie dough and somehow we were about to kiss, but I pulled away at the last second and then he left. And we’ve been pretending like none of that happened ever since.”
It actually hadn’t been so hard to force things to be normal and completely okay between you two. Neither you nor Steve brought up what happened, just like you both agreed on, and in a way, it was easy to pretend as if the moment never happened in the first place— technically, nothing actually did happen, anyway. 
“Why did you pull away?”
“It was because of a mix of a bunch of things that are all basically the same thing,” You said and then let out a sigh. “I never thought that I’d want to be with someone again; like them or love them or whatever else. And I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to feel anything even remotely equivalent to love ever again because of the shitstorm my marriage became. And I do like Steve and I do feel all of those things that I didn’t think I ever would again, but I still don’t know if I'll ever be ready for something… More. Something real again because of everything that happened with…” You trailed off; you didn’t have to say his name for Eddie to know exactly who you were talking about. 
“Fuck that guy,” Eddie said with a huff. “I swear if I ever meet him, I’m gonna beat his ass.”
The conviction in his tone made you smile. “Thank you.”
“I do think that you can trust Steve, though. He’s one of the good ones. If this fucking picture says anything, it’s that he definitely feels the same way as you. And if it says anything else, it’s that he wouldn’t even think about fucking things up.”
It was hard not to smile at Eddie’s words. “You can see all of that in this photo?”
“You know the saying. A picture’s worth a thousand words or some shit,” He told you, and you could practically hear the shrug in his voice, which made you laugh for a second before you thought about something. 
“What if I’m the one that’ll mess everything up?” You asked him and then your mind traveled back to that night— you basically running away from everything, and Steve accepting that and walking away from it all too. Why would he want to try again with you? “Actually, never mind, I think I already did.”
“No, you didn’t,” Eddie reassured you, and for once it was hard to believe his words. “When are you gonna see him again?”
You thought for a second. “A little bit on Friday because we both have to volunteer at the Winter Carnival thing, but I doubt I’ll be able to have an actual conversation with him there. But, I’ll see him Saturday for the last soccer game and then later that night because we’re gonna take the kids to the carnival.”
“Okay, be honest with him there.”
“You make doing that sound so easy, Munson.”
“I just want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy— especially after all of the shit you went through with Olly’s dad. And it’s pretty clear that a lot of that happiness does come from Steve,” Eddie told you and for the first time, you didn’t have the urge to deny those words. “If you’re honest with him and he’s understanding and likes you too much to let you go, then everything works out and that’s great. Or, if you’re honest and it turns out that he thinks you did mess everything up too much and doesn’t wanna be with you, then fuck Harrington too and I’ll also beat his ass.” 
“For once, I actually believe that you did have a “bad boy” phase.”
“I told you. I used to be such a badass,” He said and you could hear the smile in his voice. “But, seriously, just know that I’ll be there for you no matter what scenario happens, so don’t worry about which one does. Also, just know that if, when I see you next week for Christmas, you haven’t said anything to him and there’s been no resolution to this situation yet, I will only let Oliver stay with me. You can find a hotel somewhere.”
“I promise I’ll say something,” You told him, and it truly didn’t feel like you were lying, and Eddie could tell that too.
When the call ended moments later and you placed your phone down next to your laptop, you looked at the picture again. 
You no longer felt startled seeing you and Steve like this— so smitten and happy. It made you feel content, at ease even. You felt yourself smile a little, and it was like you were a little kid with a crush all over again; which, technically, had been the case for the last month, but now you were aware of it and it felt weirdly good.
You realized then that it was a mistake pulling away from Steve that night. A big mistake that you sincerely hoped you could recover from because you no longer wanted to run away. And you hoped Eddie was right in saying that it actually wasn’t too late and you didn’t completely mess everything up. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
There hadn’t been a right moment all night. Or maybe you were just getting too into your head about everything. 
In the handful of days leading up to the Winter Carnival, it was hard to keep your mind off of Steve. Instead of beginning to second guess yourself and becoming unsure of everything— like you expected to happen since feeling like this again was so foreign to you— it all only became more and more certain. Your mind was the clearest it had been in such a long time; it was almost as if once you decided to no longer avoid how you felt, the rest just seemed to fall into place.
However, when Saturday night finally came around and you met up with Steve in the grassy parking lot of the large field where the carnival was happening, your focus was solely on Oliver and Madeline. Seeing how happy and content they were going on the few rides that were set up and playing the games, made it easy to forget what you needed to do. And it also made a part of you not want to do it— not want to change things; potentially for the worse if Steve actually didn’t feel the same way or no longer wanted anything to happen. But then you’d think about that picture and what Eddie said, and you knew that you had to find that moment to finally be honest, no matter what the outcome would be.
But still, no moment had been the right one. Not the moment where there was a brief lull of silence between you and Steve when Olly and Maddie were intensely focused on playing whack-a-mole, and not the moment where you and Steve quietly watched from the sidelines as they went on the train ride that just went round and round in a wide circle for a few minutes. And not even now when the night had finally come to its end and you both were about to drive away and leave.
The kids were fast asleep in their car seats and you and Steve lingered by the front of your cars. He had already said his goodnight to you and you reluctantly said the same, and you knew that he was about to turn and step inside his car— you could tell by the small smile he gave you— so you had to finally say something 
“Wait, um, before you go. I wanted to say…” You trailed off for a second and then you were speaking before you even realized what you were saying. “Do you want to go on a date sometime?”
Right as the question left your lips, you felt like an idiot. That was not what you were supposed to say; at least, not first. For a moment, Steve only looked at you, confused. Your question lingered harshly in the cold Winter air and you were about to take it back and start from the beginning, the actual beginning, but Steve finally said something.
“A date? Like, a real date?” He asked after what felt like the longest stretch of silence that you thought you’d ever experienced, and when you only nodded in response, because you were too nervous to say anything more right then, he said, “What’s changed since the open mic night? After that, I was pretty sure that you didn’t feel anything for me.” 
“I’m sorry. I know this sounds like it’s coming entirely out of nowhere. I had this whole long thing planned to say, and I messed up and started at the end instead of the beginning because I’m an idiot,” You sighed and then pulled your phone out of your coat pocket. “Can I send you something? It’s one of the pictures from that night that the photographer took.”
If Steve didn’t already think that this entire moment was insane, he probably did now, but he still said, “Okay.”
You sent him the picture that had now been sitting in your camera roll since Wednesday and then tucked your phone back into your pocket, eyes back on Steve and waiting for his reaction. 
“Oh,” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth. Other than the clear surprise, it was hard to read his expression right then. “Oh, wow.”
“That was probably my exact reaction when I saw it too,” You said, letting out a small laugh that felt entirely too awkward, but you pushed past it. “Okay, now here’s the very long-winded speech that I’ve been kinda rehearsing in my head for the past few days and I hope I don’t mess it up this time.” You took a breath and didn’t let your gaze break from his. “I like you, Steve. A lot. That picture kind of says it all, and it gave me the much-needed push to stop being so oblivious toward everything. The reason that I pulled away that night wasn’t because I don’t feel anything for you, it was because I do feel everything for you— and that’s terrifying as hell. Because you already know about everything that happened between me and Oliver’s dad, and it was one of the hardest things I ever had to go through. I loved him and he hurt me and pretty much ruined the entire way I viewed love and relationships. I never thought that I would want to date again, and I honestly wanted to just avoid it entirely, but now here you are.”
You took a breath, probably your first one in the past minute and a half. “And although doing this right now still does kinda scare the crap out of me, it’s an okay kind of scary— if that makes sense. The thought of finally starting over and starting something with you doesn’t feel as terrifying as I thought it would. Instead, it feels really exciting. And I hope that me running away that night didn’t completely mess things up between us before they really even got the chance to start.”
As your final words left your lips, you finally pulled your eyes away from Steve’s. 
He was quiet for what felt like forever, but you knew that he was just processing everything you said, which was a lot, and the overall length felt equivalent to a speech that you had to give in high school during your History class. That had been such a nerve-wracking moment, and you remembered nearly throwing up once you were finished speaking and sitting back at your desk— this time also felt sort of similar to that. But, in this moment, it also felt like the biggest weight was lifted off of your shoulders, so you didn’t regret your words at all. 
The longer you waited for Steve to say something, anything, the more you got the urge to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to reject you— the prolonging silence made you feel like that would be the inevitable thing to happen right then. It wouldn’t be the outcome you wanted, and you’d leave this makeshift parking lot partially devastated, but also with your head held high, at least, because you had been honest and you tried.
The words were about to leave your lips— the same ones he said to you that night; “It’s okay”— but then he smiled at you, a soft smile that managed to too easily warm you up from the inside out, and then he shook his head. “You didn’t ruin everything.”
“Really?” 
“Really,” He said, and it was that reassurance that made you inwardly let out a breath. “I completely understand why you’ve been scared— a part of me is really scared too because of everything that happened last year. There was barely any sort of a relationship left between me and Maddie’s mom before she left, but that didn’t really make going through that any easier. I trusted her and a part of me loved her, and in the beginning, I hoped that she would come back— maybe more for Maddie’s sake than mine. Once I fully accepted that she wasn’t, and deep down I think I always knew that, I never thought that I’d fall for someone else so soon. But, it was almost too easy to fall for you— and I think it started happening before I could even realize it was happening. And like you said, that picture pretty much says it all. So, yes to the date. Definitely yes.”
It was hard not to smile at his final words. It made you want to kiss him, but that felt like it was something that should be saved for a different moment entirely. 
You stepped closer to him and pushed yourself up on your toes, letting your arms loop around his neck and hugging him instead. It seemed almost instinctual how quickly Steve’s arms came up to circle your waist. 
You two had hugged a few times before, usually they were quick and in lieu of a “Goodbye” or “See you later,” and they were typically never anything more or less than a side hug. But, this one was completely different, it definitely didn’t say goodbye or see you later. Instead, it somehow managed to say a thousand other things. 
How tightly Steve held you, told you that he wouldn’t even think about hurting you or breaking your heart, and it also let you know that Eddie was right about you being able to trust Steve completely. 
And how your face was buried in Steve’s neck, fully taking in his scent, told him that he didn’t need to be scared of how quickly he was falling for you, the past wouldn’t repeat itself. 
Both of you had your shitty pasts, that in some ways you both were still recovering from, but it didn’t mean that you had to disregard or push aside what this was— these strong feelings you two had. Neither of you would say it out loud just yet, but it was clear that you loved each other. 
It was way too soon to put those three words out there, but they didn’t have to be said for both of you to know that they already existed so prominently between you two. The long embrace managed to say it all.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Things were left fairly open-ended that Saturday night because it was quickly discovered that your schedules were way too busy with work and holiday plans to do something as soon as you both wanted to. And then, after a few texts and a late-night FaceTime call, it was decided that you’d see each other and plan things out when you and Oliver got back on the twenty-seventh from spending Christmas in California. 
You wanted so badly to kiss him when you saw him for the first time after a week of nothing but texts and sporadic phone calls— and that feeling only increased tenfold when you noticed the bouquet of daisies in his hand. But you couldn’t kiss him in a coffee shop full of people, so you settled for a hug instead, where he very subtly whispered in your ear how badly he also wanted to kiss you at that moment.
He and Madeline stayed for most of that afternoon. She played board games in a booth with Oliver, and Steve helped you out with little tasks you had to do since, on that day, it was just you working in the coffee shop. It was hours full of lingering touches— his hand brushing against your waist or hip at the most random of moments, and you standing almost flush next to him and your hands continuously grazing his as you showed him how to work the coffee machine— and long looks that made your brain feel fuzzy.
Both of you were standing in the back kitchen area when one of his hands found yours after you finished putting a sheet of cookies in the oven. “I already have an idea for what I want us to do for our date.”
You stepped a little closer to him and found his other hand to intertwine it with yours. “Since I asked you on the date, I think that I should be the one to plan it.”
“You can plan the second one,” He told you and it was hard not to smile at that. “So, when’s the next night you’re free?”
“New Year’s Eve, actually. We’re gonna be closed here then, and New Year’s Day too.”
Steve nodded. “Okay, perfect.”
Now that night had finally rolled around, and in comparison to the anticipation you’d been feeling for the last few days about it, a good kind of nervousness was coursing through your body as you hurried down the stairs when the doorbell rang at seven o’clock.
Oliver was already in the living room playing Connect Four with your next door neighbor, Natalie, who was almost always willing to babysit him for you. And she didn’t even seem to mind doing it tonight, even though it was New Year’s Eve, because she said that it would get her out of going to this party with her parents at her dad’s job. You still promised to pay her double the amount you usually gave her. 
“I left some money to order a pizza,” You told Natalie as you quickly put your shoes on, a pair of boots that stopped just below your knee and nicely complimented the short length of the dress you were wearing, and then you grabbed your coat and purse. “Call or text me if anything happens or you need something, you know the usual.”
“Got it,” She responded with a quick nod as she made her next move in the game. 
“I’ll see you later, Olly. Are you still gonna try and stay up until midnight?”
Oliver smiled up at you and nodded. “Yup.” 
“Good luck,” You said, smiling back at him.
You opened the front door and were immediately met with the sight of Steve standing at your doorstep, wearing a nice pair of black jeans and a coat over his long-sleeved white button-up shirt. 
You closed and locked the door behind you before turning to look at him again, a small smile on your face. “Hi.��
“Hi,” He told you and then his gaze traveled down your body for a brief second before meeting your eyes again. “You look really great.”  
His words let you know that you definitely made the right decision about pulling out the red strapless dress that had been sitting in your closet for the past year. It had no real reason to come out until now; for a date with someone that you really liked. And even after a year, it still looked great on you, hugged your body in all the right places, and made you feel really good. This was the first time in a long time that you were out of your typical “mom attire,” simple jeans and a plain t-shirt that was typically covered by an apron, and you wanted to look extra nice tonight; even if you and Steve wouldn’t be doing something fancy or extravagant.  
“Thank you,” You responded, smiling wider at him. “I don’t know what we’re doing, but as long as it’s not a hike or paintball, I think I should be fine.”
“Don’t worry, I think high-intensity things like that are usually saved for third dates,” He said playfully. 
“Oh, yeah, that’s so true,” You said, matching his tone and nodding. “But, if you force me to go on a hike for our third date, I’ll never go out with you again.”
“Okay, got it. Is paintball still on the table, though?”
“Sure.”  
“Great, so I won’t have to cancel our reservation in three weeks,” He responded, and the over-dramatic sigh in relief he let out made you laugh a bit.
It was almost embarrassing how easily Steve made you feel like you were back in middle school and crushing on the boy in your Math class. You hoped Josh Miller was doing well wherever he currently was because right then, as Steve reached out his hand and you slipped yours into his open palm, you knew for a fact that you were.
“Do I finally get to find out what we’re doing tonight?” You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat of his car.
Steve shook his head. “You’ll see once we get there.”
You sighed but still nodded. “The anticipation is killing me, just so you know.”
“Please don’t die before I get to show you everything.” 
That got a smile from you. “I’ll try my hardest not to.”
The drive was only about fifteen minutes— with you controlling the radio the entire time, and Steve’s hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel resting on your exposed thigh, and his thumb lightly stroking the bare skin throughout most of the ride. It was an action that essentially made your brain short circuit and was the reason why you had accidentally stopped on a station playing country music for longer than you intended. Your brain only started working again when the car was parked and you noticed that you were in his driveway.  
You looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Usually, you bring the person back to your house at the end of the date, not the beginning, Harrington. How long has it been since the last time you did this?”
“Ha ha,” He said with a playful roll of his eyes at your sarcastic question. “The date is actually happening here, so that rule doesn’t really apply to this situation.”
“Okay, fair,” You responded, nodding. Your mind was already starting to run through the possibilities of what he had set up for you in his house.
“I’ll be right back, I just need to check something really quick first,” He told you and you only nodded again. 
Steve was barely gone for five minutes before he was opening the passenger door for you and helping you step out of the car. 
“Can I cover your eyes?”
“You’re actually making me really nervous now, but I’ll allow it,” You answered and he stepped behind you, covering your eyes with his hands.
“I think I might be more nervous than you,” He whispered, lips brushing your ear, which sent something equivalent to a shiver down your spine and you were glad that you had your coat on because it hid your goosebumps.
“Impossible,” You told him. “Is this a bad time to tell you that I hate surprises?”
“Yes, because now I don’t believe you.”
He was right to not believe you because that was technically a lie, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t still nervous about what this surprise would be. 
You expected him to guide you up the front steps of his house, but instead, you were led a different way, to the backyard. At some point, Steve stopped you both, but he still kept covering your eyes as he began talking. 
“Okay, so the initial idea I had was that we go to a drive-in movie theater because I feel like movies are kind of our thing at this point, and going to just a normal theater would be boring. But, the closest drive-in is over an hour away, and there was one specific movie I wanted us to watch anyway, so I decided to just set something up here.”
He pulled his hands away then and you opened your eyes. The first thing you saw was 
the large blanket set up in the middle of the backyard, there were a bunch of pillows on it along with a few folded up blankets and you noticed the plastic bowl full of candy and bucket of popcorn too. You then saw the projector screen that was set up a few feet in front of the blanket and the movie that was already queued up on it. Since it was currently paused, you could see the name in the top left corner— The Parent Trap. Everything was perfect, and you were about to tell Steve exactly that, but he started talking again before you could. 
“And I know you’re dressed up really nice right now, which means that you were probably expecting us to do something fancy, so I’m sorry if this is kind of a disappointment. But, I promise next time I’ll take you to the fanciest restaurant ever and—”
You cut off his rambling by turning to him and kissing his cheek. “This is the most thoughtful thing I think anyone has ever done for me. I love this.”
He smiled and you could see the happy relief washing over his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” You nodded, smiling back at him.
You pulled off your coat and slipped off your shoes and then grabbed one of the folded blankets to wrap around yourself before sitting down. 
“Maddie helped with a lot of the setup. She told me to add more pillows and blankets so that everything could feel really cozy,” Steve told you and you nodded at that, saying a quick, “She was very right.” “Also, I wasn’t sure what type of candy was your favorite, so I got a little bit of everything.” 
You grabbed the first stray bag of Skittles that you were able to find in the plastic bowl. “These are probably my favorite, but I do kinda like everything.”
“Okay, good to know for next time,” He said and there was something about the mention of “next time” that made your heart happily feel as if it was about to burst in your chest. 
Steve walked over to where the projector and his laptop were set up on his patio table so that he could start the movie. When he sat down right next to you, you gave him some of your blanket and he didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you as the opening credits and song started playing. 
The cold got to you quicker than you expected it to. You shifted a bit so that your legs were draped over Steve’s lap, you were almost sitting in his lap with how close you were. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, letting his warmth and the blanket that was draped over you both engulf you completely. But when the blanket and his own body heat still weren’t enough to keep you warm, he went inside and grabbed a hoodie for you to wear. 
Not even halfway through the movie, you could feel his gaze solely on you; maybe it was to make sure that you were comfortable, which you were, or maybe it was to make sure that you were enjoying everything, which you also were. 
You looked at him, an amused smile on your face. “You should be watching the movie, not me.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything— just simply kept looking at you, admiring you— until he finally did say something. “I know that this is completely breaking first date etiquette and another one of the “rules,” but I really wanna kiss you right now.”
You were nodding before the final words even managed to leave his lips. “Do it.” 
One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and he simply stared at you for a second before tilting your head up a bit and leaning in to softly slot his lips against yours. It was slow at first, like you both really wanted to savor this moment since it was the first time this was ever happening. 
Pushing yourself impossibly closer to him, your mouths moved against each other so seamlessly, almost as if this wasn’t the first time this was happening between you two— there was absolutely no confusion or uncertainty laced within this intimate moment. 
Steve pulled away slowly too, which elicited a soft and quiet whine from you. A sound that managed to oh so easily flip the switch for the both of you. From there, things became much more desperate and needy, as if you were two teenagers who just discovered what making out was. Your mouth hungrily found his that second time and his hand moved from your face and went down to grip your hip. 
For the most part, the movie became long forgotten, but there were some moments where you would abruptly pull away from Steve and claim that you two were “missing the good part of the movie,” and you’d force your attention back to that. It would always only be for a moment though, because before you knew it, you were back to looking at Steve and smiling at him and kissing his cheek or jaw or nose before eagerly finding his lips. 
Neither of you noticed when the credits started rolling. Your heads were against one of the pillows and legs were tangled beneath the two blankets that were over you both. One of your hands found home in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, and one of his hands had snaked underneath the hoodie and was squeezing your waist. 
You pulled back from the kiss, mainly to catch your breath, and Steve’s mouth immediately began attacking your jaw and then neck. You had to bite your lip for a second to keep from letting out any noise. “We’re probably giving your neighbors a very good show right now.” 
You felt Steve let out a laugh against your skin. “It’s a good thing that there are old married couples on both sides, so they’re all probably in bed asleep by now.”
You hummed in response. “Mm, that’s very good to know.”
You were about to pull back a bit so that you could then lean in and kiss him again, but then you managed to realize something and you turned your head toward the projector screen. “The movie’s over.”
“Oh,” Steve looked at the final credit screen that the movie ended on. “Good thing we’ve seen it before because I don’t think we watched any of it tonight.” 
You smiled at him. “Your face made it really hard to pay attention to the movie. I think we’ll need to go back to watching stuff on the phone in order for us to actually watch a movie.” 
“Never gonna happen,” He said before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I don’t have my phone on me, but I think it’s probably almost ten. What time do I need to get you home?”
“Oliver luckily didn’t give me a curfew,” You jokingly answered, which made a soft laugh fall from Steve’s lips. “But, seriously, Natalie told me that she’s fine with staying at the house as long as I need. For some reason, she really likes sleeping in the guest room once Oliver’s in bed. Even though tonight he wants to try and stay up until midnight to watch the ball drop, so I don’t know when he’ll actually end up in bed.”
“Maddie’s trying to do the same thing at my parent’s house, but she’ll probably fall asleep before eleven, if she’s not already,” He said and that made you smile because you were pretty sure the same thing would happen with Oliver. Steve’s hand then found yours beneath the blanket and gave it a light squeeze. “So, we should…” 
“We should go inside,” You finished for him and quickly pressed a kiss to his nose before detangling yourself from him and standing up. “I can help you clean up all of this first if you want.”
“I’ll do it in the morning,” He said and you nodded at that as he stood up too.  
You didn’t mind leaving your shoes and coat outside for the time being, but you grabbed your phone from your purse so that you could check it and make sure that everything was going okay with Oliver. You immediately saw that Natalie texted you almost thirty minutes ago telling you that he fell asleep, which made you laugh a bit. You quickly texted something back to her and then placed your phone down on Steve’s kitchen island when you walked through the sliding doors that led from the backyard to the kitchen. 
Steve walked over to where you were leaning against the island. He slipped his hands underneath the hoodie of his that you were still wearing so that he could grab your hips, and your arms came up to lazily circle his neck. He was the one who initiated the kiss that time around.
How comfortable and okay you were right then and how completely comfortable you had been the entire night was something that slightly surprised you as much as it made you feel so fucking happy. It was hard not to recognize that this was the first time in a long time that you felt this way— and that should’ve made things feel at least a little scary; like they would’ve felt just a few weeks ago— but instead that realization gave you a small burst of confidence in that moment.
You pulled back a bit, eyes still shut and lips lightly brushing his. “Y’know, I really love that we’re already at your house.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Mhm,” You nodded, eyes opening and then you stepped away from him and slipped your hand into his. You started leading him toward the stairs and you wondered if it was entirely obvious that you were heading to his bedroom. You already knew where it was because you had accidentally found it the first time you and Oliver came over for a playdate— you had been looking for the bathroom and mistakenly chose the door on the left instead of the right. “It makes this part a lot easier.” 
“What’s this part?” He asked and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
You turned to him when you were in front of his closed door. You gave him a look that said everything— everything you wanted from him right then and everything you wanted to give him— before reaching up and softly kissing his cheek. 
It was dark when you both walked into his bedroom and Steve flicked on the small lamp that was sitting on his nightstand. You were lingering by the foot of the bed and he once again closed all of the space between you two, his hands found the hem of the hoodie and immediately pushed it up and off of you. He slowed down when his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress. A questioning look that asked “Is this okay?” crossed his face, and you quickly nodded. Somehow the minor action sent an inadvertent shiver down your spine— Steve letting the red material fall to the floor and leaving you in just your strapless bra and underwear before softly pushing you down so that you were sitting on the bed. You started helping him unbutton his shirt so that he could push it off of his shoulders and let it hit the floor as well. 
Your hands then found his belt buckle, fumbling around with it and then proceeding to unbutton his pants and snake your right hand within them. Steve’s groan was loud and it sent a chill through your body as you touched him and felt him grow stiffer in his boxers due to all of your soft, teasing strokes. 
After just a moment, he reached for your hand, halting your movements, and then leaned down to kiss you, removing his pants in the process. Once he was left in just his navy blue boxers you maneuvered upward so that your head was hitting one of his pillows at the top of the bed and he settled on top of you between your now spread legs.
Steve’s lips brushed against your forehead and then cheek before he pulled back and simply looked at you. “You’re so fucking pretty.” 
You didn’t feel an ounce of nervousness under his gaze, which said and told you so much, and it actually felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest. 
“You’re not too bad yourself,” You whispered, tilting your head upward a bit so that your lips could meet his in a quick kiss. 
When your bra was discarded on the floor somewhere along with your underwear, you found yourself begging for him. Soft “pleases” fell from your lips as he teased you— softly rubbing your nipple in small circles and only stroking your inner thighs with the most featherlight of touches, getting so close to where you wanted him most. And feeling his hard length, which was still covered by his boxers, pressing against you only made your want grow more. You knew for a fact that you were making the worst mess against his comforter because of how much you were dripping for him.  
“Steve,” You let out a soft sigh, eyes screwed shut. “I need you. Please.”
“Mhm, yeah, anything for you,” He said, moving away from you for a second. Your eyes opened and you immediately missed his warmth enveloping you completely. He was ridding himself of his boxers and then began rummaging around in his nightstand drawer for a condom. 
You were smiling at him when he settled back on top of you and he gave you a small smile back. 
“You sure this is okay?” He asked, and you could hear the sudden shyness take over his voice. 
“Yes, I promise. I want this. I want you,” You told him, nodding profusely. He needed that reassurance and you completely understood why. Your voice was soft as you said your next words. “You sure this is okay?”
He pressed the softest kiss against your forehead. “So much better than okay.” 
For some reason, those simple words made your heart flutter wildly in your chest. He looked down for a second, lining his cock up with your soaked entrance, and then his eyes met yours again as he slowly pushed himself inside of you. 
“Fuck,” You wanted so badly to shut your eyes, but you also didn’t want to break his gaze. 
There was so much shared in the dreamy and lust-filled look you two were holding. You were hit with the sudden need to never have this to end. Not just the sex, but simply being with Steve— talking, laughing, playfully arguing as you debated random shit that didn’t matter. You wanted all of that with him for as long as you could have it. 
It was too early to even truly entertain the potential of a forever with him, but it was something that could happen and it was hard not to let your mind wander for a bit. 
You could see it all, and so easily too— your lives blending and becoming so deeply intertwined. You didn’t expect yourself to fall so goddamn hard for him so quickly, but it felt nice feeling so entirely certain about it all. 
“What are you thinking about, honey?” Steve whispered, breaking through your thoughts and eyes still looking so deeply into yours. He was still moving slowly but was also hitting so deeply inside of you with every languid thrust that it elicited the softest whines and mewls from you. 
“Everything,” You told him honestly, but didn’t explain further because you were then shutting your eyes and letting your mind turn to mush. A particularly hard thrust had your back arching off the bed and a gasp falling from your lips. “Shit, yes, right there.”
“I think about everything with you all the time,” Steve said, lips finding yours and swallowing the loud moans you let out upon hearing his words— right then, that was the only way that you could verbalize how much you loved hearing him say that. He started moving quicker, losing control inside of you, which you didn’t mind in the slightest because it only made you wetter. “I want it all so badly.”
You could feel yourself nodding at him, it still felt way too hard to open your eyes. “Me too.”
Your walls squeezed harshly around his cock when one of his hands snaked down to find your clit, rubbing it in tight circles with his thumb and almost immediately pushing you so close to the edge. 
“You gonna come for me, honey?” Steve asked with a groan and when you only mumbled out a barely coherent “yes” and “please,” he started circling your clit quicker before saying, “Do it. Come for me.”
It hit you so fucking hard. You were moaning loudly, practically screaming, as stars flooded your vision and your body almost immediately felt as if it was floating. How tightly you were squeezing Steve’s cock as you came only spurred on his own release, forehead dropping against yours as he pushed as deep as he could inside of you and spilled into the condom. 
Your lips haphazardly found his in a slow kiss as you both came down from your highs and your breathing returned mostly to normal.  His weight crushed you in the most peaceful way possible before he was slipping out of you and then pulling your back flush against his chest. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but with Steve’s arms around you in the most comforting way, you did almost immediately. 
When you woke up, it had barely been an hour and the only reason you knew that was because the TV was now on and the live New Year’s Eve special was playing. You got up to go to the bathroom and then slipped on Steve’s white button-up shirt, only buttoning a few of the buttons, before getting back in bed. 
“Hi,” You whispered, head settling against his chest and his arms immediately came up to circle around you. 
“Hey,” He whispered back and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You draped your leg over his hips to push yourself even closer to him. “Ten minutes to midnight. Should I take you home after?”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” You answered softly. “I wish I could stay.”
“Me too,” Steve said as one of his hands started lightly rubbing up and down against the curve of your hip. “One day, though.”
You smiled at that, tilting your head up a bit and kissing his jaw. “I can’t wait for that.”
Years down the road you’d both think back to this moment. 
When you’re laying in bed together in the house that you two moved into just weeks earlier, something bigger that would better fit your growing family. Oliver and Madeline would be fast asleep in their rooms down the hall from yours and their newborn sister would only be a few feet away from you and Steve, finally asleep in her bassinet. 
You’d be the one to bring up this night— how it was both the start of something and the end of something else— and he’d smile at you immediately and start absentmindedly playing with the ring on your finger. How it had been the start of a relationship that neither of you truly saw coming and how it brought a slow but steady end to the fears that both of you had. 
Steve would softly say that even though he’d been a little scared to tell you that night, he had known then— as he was dropping you off at your house close to one in the morning and softly kissing you goodnight on your doorstep— that he wanted to be with you forever. And you’d tell him that you had felt the exact same way, that you even ended up dreaming about it all that night like a lovesick teenager. 
That would make him kiss you, slowly and tenderly; something that never failed to make your head feel dizzy. 
Before you and him fell asleep too, just for a few hours before Luna woke both of you up, you would tell Steve that you were glad that Oliver and Madeline asked to have a playdate during that oddly warm day in September four years ago because that simple thing changed everything between you two. Your eyes would already be shut as you sleepily whispered how much you loved him and he’d smile while telling you that he loved you too. He’d then laugh a bit and say that it was the sleep deprivation making you extra sentimental right then but he was completely okay with that. His soft and sweet words of, “I’m also so glad that those playdates changed everything,” would be the last thing you remember hearing before you fully fell asleep, and it put the softest smile on your face.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
let me know ur thoughts<333
513 notes · View notes
hvlplvss · 5 months
Text
| have yourself a merry little christmas
| colby brock x reader
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summary: in which colby brock has never liked the idea of christmas. he’s never enjoyed it or wanted to celebrate by decorating. but his girlfriend loves the holiday. decorating the house in anyway she could. but a few words may cause colby’s hate for christmas to melt.
warnings: angst, reader cries, colby says a few means things lol, happy ending though !!
authors note: this is inspired by a steve harrington fic i saw last xmas, but the author has deactivated their account!!! but credits to them for this idea :)
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colby brock has never really liked christmas. he always thought of it as a burden. having to decorate the house and be all cheery for an entire month, just to celebrate one day.
he didn’t understand why he hated it so much; but he just did. he couldn’t get behind the idea of christmas, or decorating, or christmas trees. you name it, colby brock probably didn’t like it.
however his girlfriend y/n, adored christmas. it was her favourite time of the year and it had been ever since she was young. she loved decorating and making the holiday special for the younger ones in her family. she loved the presents, she loved the food and the whole idea.
so when christmas was quickly approaching, y/n couldn’t help but speak about the holiday. she would sometimes speak to colby about it, despite knowing he didn’t love the day. but her and sam would talk about it as sam would listen to the girl yap about christmas.
seen as it was their first christmas together and y/n had come to realise that colby did in fact not like christmas, she made it her goal to make him enjoy it this year.
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y/n had already begun preparing little things for christmas. it was only the middle of november and she had already planned the christmas tree, the lights which she’d put up outside, the gifts she was getting everyone. and by everyone, it meant everyone.
anyone who she would call a friend, or even a civil friendship, would receive a gift from the girl. wether it be bought or handmade, she’d make sure everyone got something this christmas.
but as the days slowly crept round to the first of december, y/n was ecstatic.
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colby’s eyes slowly opened, squinting due to the lack of sleep the boy received last night after coming home from a meeting at silly o’clock in the morning.
he noticed the empty space in the bed beside him. y/n wasn’t there. which was strange and unusual as usually the girl was the last one to wake up between the two off them.
he reached for his phone checking the time, which read 6:37am.
what was y/n doing? there was no way she chose to be up at this time in the morning. it’s not like she had anything special going on today.
colby gave himself a minute to fully wake up, stretching his legs and arms and closing his eyes one last time before sliding out the side of the bed.
colby walked downstairs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. this is why she was awake so early. he thought.
the whole downstairs of the house was now silver with christmas decorations. tinsel, little trinkets of decoration, a christmas countdown which had rotating blocks so you could change it every morning.
“y/n?” colby called out. there were a few moments of rustling and a box being put down.
y/n came into view from the kitchen door, adorned in fluffy socks and a big christmas jumper that was many sizes too big for her.
“what’s going on?” colby asked, “why does the house look so ‘christmassy’” colby shuddered at the word as though it was bad for him to say it.
“it’s the first of december, colbs!” y/n beamed, “it’s finally christmas time!”
colby strolled into the kitchen, looking at what y/n was doing.
she was baking. baking christmas cookies. and she might as well be feeding the entire state with the amount she had made.
“what are all these for?” he asked.
“christmas cookies! i’m gonna take them to the nursing home,” she explained, “i’ve done it every year!” she pulled a rack out the oven and placed even more cookies on the side. “you don’t think i’ve gone overboard right?”
“what? no? i think it’s sweet, y/n,”
“okay, good. i mean if i’ve made to many they can always have two each, or maybe even three!”
colby placed a hand on his girlfriends cheek, “hey, calm down. it’ll be fine, i promise you,” he spoke softly, “but maybe just also calm down on all the decorations, yeah?”
y/n faltered at his words, “you don’t like them?” she asked disheartened.
“no, i-i do. just… just not use to it, yeah?” colby answered quickly, not wanting to upset her.
she nodded in response, looking back over her cookies once more. “right, i’m going to let these cool down, then get ready and go out to give them to the nursing home and then come home and decorate the tree!” she planned.
colby sighed, trying to hide his slight annoyance that he was coming to terms with. he loved the girl, but he hated this christmas spirit she had.
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y/n had arrived home after successfully handing out her christmas cookies, 174 cookies to be exact, (she now realised she may have gone overboard).
y/n walked through the front door, taking her shoes off, leaving them next to colby’s.
as she strolled through the house, she arrived into the living room where colby was sat with his laptop.
she stood behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.
“hey colbs,” she smiled.
colby looked up to look at his girlfriend, he smiled back at her and kissed her lips. “how was it?” he asked.
“good! they were happy to see me again! said i should go see them more often,” she told colby.
“bless them. they probably don’t get many visitors so they’re probably pleased to see you!” he answered, to which y/n nodded.
colby turned back to his laptop as y/n had walked away into the corner of the living room.
she opened a box which held various christmas tree decorations. she’d used the box for as many christmases as she could remember, it even had some of the baubles that her parents had bought when she was a toddler.
y/n slowly began decorating the tree, adding the lights, the baubles, the tinsel and so on.
but it took her quite some time due to her being an extreme perfectionist and if things weren’t equal on the tree, she’d restart or take the last few things off and then redo them.
so to say it took y/n a long time to decorate the tree was an understatement. she was an hour and 45 minutes in and she still hadn’t finished.
colby was still sat in the same spot on the couch, growing slightly agitated with his girlfriend.
she was talking to herself, muttering and whispering ideas. and as harsh as it sounds, she was really getting on his nerves. he was just trying to edit a video for the channel, but y/n couldn’t be quiet.
her voice broke him out of his thoughts, “colbs? which do you think looks better? the silver bauble or the gold bauble?” he looked up, glaring, but y/n was too carried away to even notice the change in his demeanour.
“i don’t know,” he shrugged, “silver?” colby answered, looking back down at his laptop.
y/n turned back to the christmas tree, deciding wether to go with her boyfriends advice or not.
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y/n had officially finished decorating the christmas tree, after nearly two and a half hours, she only had one job left to do which was the star on top.
but the tree seemed to have quite a big height advantage on the girl, so she turned back around to colby.
“colbs, can you help me put the star on?” he tried to pretend that he hadn’t heard y/n, hoping that she would leave it and work the problem out herself; but she didn’t. “colbs?”
colby’s head snapped up, “what?!”
“can you help me put the star on, please?” she asked sheepishly.
“look!” colby began, placing his laptop off of his lap, “i’m trying to work, okay? but you are just constantly talking or asking me something about christmas or the decorations! when i don’t even care! i’m sick of all this christmas shit, y/n!”
y/n’s eyes glossed over at his harsh voice and choice of words and her bottom lip quivered.
“oh,” she spoke quietly.
colby could see what he had done. why did he get angry? why did he yell at her? he made her upset and he could tell.
y/n turned around and placed the star down back in the box, then turning to walk out of the living room, “y/n! wait- i didn’t-” but y/n shook her head and walked out of the room, heading upstairs.
colby shook his head and sighed, “fuck,” well done colby, well done.
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y/n had been significantly quieter that day. when colby came upstairs for bed, y/n didn’t speak unless colby spoke to her first. she hadn’t even left the room due to how embarrassed she felt.
but the following day, y/n was still asleep when colby woke up. so, he quietly got dressed, trying not to wake y/n up, knowing it’d be an awkward encounter for the couple. plus colby also wanted to go food shopping as they began running out of food in their fridge and should stock up before everything runs out in the stores.
so while colby was out, y/n had gone about the house and took down each decoration. she didn’t want colby to feel annoyed by all the christmas things.
she just wanted to warm him up to the idea of christmas, but from what he said last night, it clearly wasn’t working.
taking down the christmas tree was way quicker than putting it up, y/n came to realise.
once everything had been tucked back into their boxes, y/n had gone back upstairs to just lay down in bed. ever since colby said that, y/n had felt a lack of energy. she was hurting. she was so excited for her first christmas with colby, but it wasn’t going the way she hoped.
sam had stopped by the couples house, dropping off the other laptop they shared for editing videos. the boy let himself in as he’d been allowed a key to the house, due to his frequent visits.
“colby? y/n?” he called out.
y/n walked out of her room grudgingly, walking down the stairs. “hi,” she said.
“hey,” he answered, “are you okay?”
he could tell something was up. she wasn’t being cheery like she had been on the lead up to december, or when she spoke about how excited she was for it to be december soon enough. she nodded.
“where’s all the decorations?” sam asked, looking around the house, “i thought you said you were gonna decorate on the first, and it’s now the second?”
y/n looked down, trying to come up with an excuse, “oh, i just had a really busy day yesterday, i didn’t find the time to,” she lied.
sam nodded, not believing her in the slightest. “i was coming to give colby this, but i’ll just tell him to drop by before he comes home,” y/n nodded, “call me if you need anything, yeah?”
“yeah,” she muttered, “bye sam,”
“bye y/n,” he turned back around, closing the door behind him.
sam hopped into his car, pulling his phone out of his pocket and going to message sam.
stop by mine later, need to give you the other laptop and also need to speak to you
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colby had just arrived outside of sam’s appartment. he stepped out the car and walked to the house, opening the door.
“sam!” colby yelled. the said boy walked out from the kitchen and to colby, “you alright?” colby asked.
“yeah, just need to ask a few things and also give you the laptop,” sam answered, walking back into the kitchen, colby following his trail.
“yeah, what’s up?”
sam sighed, “why is your house not decorated?” sam asked. colby furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “i mean, y/n wouldn’t stop talking about how excited she was to decorate and how she was gonna do it on the first, but when i stopped by earlier there was nothing,”
“wait- what do you mean, there was nothing?” colby asked, slightly puzzled.
“i stopped by, and there were no decorations. like at all. it looked like your everyday house. no signs of christmas, at all,” sam explained.
colby thought about it for a moment, taking a seat at the kitchen island. “shit,” he muttered, placing his head in his hands.
“what?”
colby sighed, “i got angry yesterday, when y/n was decorating. she kept asking me questions and i was really rude and i yelled at her. i saw her face, sam. she was nearly crying, i mean she probably did cry, but she kept it hidden from me,” colby explained, “fuck! i feel so awful, sam,”
sam shook his head, “you should have heard her before. she rarely spoke to you about it cause she knew you hated it, so she’d talk to me about christmas things. but she was so excited for it, colby. you’ve messed this up, bro,”
“i know…” he sighed, “i just- i’m not use to it, and i know that doesn’t excuse it, because it doesn’t, i shouldn’t have gotten angry,”
“glad you realised that!” sam answered.
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tomorrow was christmas. the day y/n was once looking forward to, but now didn’t even want to hear anything about it. she’d gone to bed quite early on christmas eve due to working all day.
colby had said he’d be up to bed in a few hours as he had a few things left to catch up on, like meetings and editing things and so on.
but colby didn’t come to bed until 3:27 in the morning.
colby spent six hours decorating downstairs. decorating the house how y/n had once made it. making it christmassy. how a house should be.
he even went shopping to buy all the food he would need for the dinner the next day. especially as the boy had invited everyone and everybody round for christmas dinner.
he had been so busy that time went quicker than he thought it had. he didn’t even notice when the clock struck 3am how long he’d actually been busy for.
and as he reached to put the star on the tree, he remembered what he said that day where he ruined y/n’s christmas cheer. but he hoped this would bring it back.
sure, colby still didn’t understand the whole christmas idea, but if it made his girlfriend happy, then he would learn about the christmas spirit.
when y/n woke up that dreaded morning, she noticed that colby was missing. she assumed he’d left as maybe he felt awkward, or that he’d gone to visit sam early.
but when y/n actually came round and fully woke up, she noticed the smell coming from downstairs. y/n furrowed her brows in confusion, so she stood up out from her bed and walked out of her room.
as she looked down the stairs she realised what colby had done.
the entire house had become ‘christmassy’. colby had redone all of y/n’s decorations and exactly how she had done them. everything was the same.
“colbs?” y/n called out.
colby rounded the corner of the kitchen, a smile playing on his lips, “d’you like it?” he asked.
y/n rolled her eyes playfully, running to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.
“i love it, colbs. thank you,” she whispered.
“no, thank you,” he said, placing his hands on her face, making her look at him, “i was horrible to you that day. you were so excited about christmas and i ruined that, i’m so sorry,” he apologised.
y/n leaned in to kiss colby’s lips gently, planting a soft kiss to them. “i forgive you,” she replied, “but pleaseeeee can i give you your gifts now? i’ve been waiting for months to give you them!”
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420 notes · View notes
espinosaurusrexex · 7 months
Text
Happy Little Accidents
Veteran!BuckyBarnes x Female!ArtTeacher!Reader
summary: In a world after the war, Bucky tries to get pieces of his old self back by joining an art class. He meets you and instantly falls head over heels. Now he just has to work up the courage to ask you out.
a/n: wrote most of this on my lunch break after finally feeling the creativity spark again. I hope you all get a cozy fall feeling.
word count: 3.3k
warnings: adapting to life after war, frustration, a little angst, love-dazed Bucky, just so much fluff and wholesomeness 💕
・゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚
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↑ the face of a man too whipped to listen - this is the Bucky vibe today
Steve Rogers was an artist. A lot of people knew about it. Hell, the Smithsonian even had a gallery full of sketches from a notebook of Steve’s he had lost back in ‘45. But Steve never needed people to recognize his work. Just like he never needed all the fame that came with his shield or all the honors he got for doing what he thought normal human decency implied - stopping bullies.
But what not many people knew was that Steve loved his art so much, he even held little sketch workshops in the camps on the western front. He drew each member of the howling commandos with impeccable accuracy. He loved drawing portraits and he loved to help.
Which was why, sooner or later, Bucky had been talked into trying his first sketches back in the day as well. Back when he was still left-handed, back when he found joy in little things such as drawing with his best friend. Back when he was not who he was now.
Yeah, he was bitter about it...
Bucky wasn’t too shabby of an artist per se. He was rather quick with his sketches always able to find the right spot for his next line and even though they weren’t perfect, one could always see what his pictures were meant to present.
Yes, they were crooked and not nearly as good as Steve’s but he had fun with it. Sketching had been an escape for his soul while bombs were exploding only miles away from his camp. It had reminded him of his best friend when they were apart, and most importantly, it taught him patience.
God, so much patience. 
Bucky had never been good with it. Always fast, always right away. But the amount of times Steve made him erase carefully constructed lines and shapes had him feel scolded like a kid.
Later, he was grateful for it.
Now? He hated just touching a pencil. Every time he was reminded of his recovery, of months of frustration and anger, of grief and sadness. All because he’d lost his arm, and with it, all that had brought him joy in life.
When he had to learn to write with his right hand, he screamed at the papers before him, the crooked and shaky lines mocking him with vigor.
You’ll never be the same, they said, You’ll never have true joy back.
He felt like a child. Unable to do the most mundane of tasks, whilst fully aware of what had to be done to get it right.
But he missed it. The way drawing would clear his mind and the ease he felt when thinking of nothing but the next step in the process.
So after a particularly frustrating session with his therapist, Bucky had walked through a gallery on his way home. Beautiful pieces, each more impressive than the next hung on bright white walls until he reached a small corner with sketches and photographs. They weren’t less good than the rest, but other than the huge paintings, they seemed approachable - and they reminded him of times far gone.
“Hello, would you be interested in signing up for a sketching class?” An angelic voice had asked after holding a leaflet into his line of sight. And when he followed the hand up to your face, his breath hitched in his throat.
“I- I don’t think I’d be any good…” he had said with a pitiful smile as his left arm raised next to his head, the sleek silver of his hand shining in the showroom light.
“Oh don’t be silly. Everyone can be an artist.”
And that was all it took.
Now he was here. Sitting in a room with about eight other people, listening to you talk. Though Bucky didn’t pay much attention to your words. He was distracted by the way your lips curved when you spoke, and how your hands looked in the light when you flailed them in the air. He wanted to draw you, only you. But he knew he could never do you justice. And that frustrated him a little.
His first task was easy. A series of connected squiggles and shapes. The second was harder - finding and highlighting familiar motives in his work. But when he tried to connect his shapes, his hand began to tremble and the line on his paper got dented, he huffed in surrender.
A look to the front to you talking with another woman and he was getting off his chair.
This was useless. He should have never come here. 
But when he moved to gather his things, your voice stopped him once again. 
“Oh that’s interesting,” you said with a tilted head, your eyes following the little dent in his drawing. 
“Yeah, I messed it up.” He shook his head and added a careful, much more quiet ‘I always do”.
“You see, it’s only a mistake if you make it one.” You turned to him and smiled and his heart began racing now that all your attention was on him. Bucky looked around to see if anyone noticed, but the other participants were all focused on their work. “I’m not going to tell you that this line isn’t supposed to be the way it is. You alone can decide that.”
You stepped closer as he eyed his paper again. “So, Bucky,” holy crap you remembered his name. And it sounded so good coming from your lips. “Are you gonna make it a mistake or not?”
❁ ❁ ❁
That was a month ago. And Bucky had come to your class every Sunday night since then. But now his crush had only intensified. 
Every time you stepped behind him to watch him work, his hand began to sweat. Every time you gave him a suggestion, his eyes were so drawn to your lips, he barely heard what you were saying. Just yesterday this had caused him to get into a particularly awkward situation. He hadn’t listened, of course - those stupid mesmerizing lips of yours were at fault for it. And when Bucky finally came back from his daydream of imagining what they would feel like on his lips, he knocked over a jar of water as he noticed you had moved next to him. And to make matters even worse, you had caught him talking to himself as he cleaned up the mess. 
Bucky was beyond embarrassed. He wasn’t normally that clumsy, all his moves were calculated. No limb out of control, but when you were around, he seemed to have lost that trait of his - which was actually kind of nice... 
He was in deep. And he didn’t know how to handle it. 
He was contemplating never going back to your class. He would probably end up ruining somebody’s work and - besides - it wasn’t like he could ever work up the courage to ask you out. It was just all too scary. 
“Bucky, is that you?” Bucky froze as he studied the coffee menu above the barista. He was going to order black anyway. But the voice that called out his name almost made him want to pretend he was still studying the sign.
“Bucky.” Your voice came closer and when you were standing next to him, he finally looked at you. And there you were, with a bright smile and a scarf shielding you from the cool fall breeze outside. 
“Oh, hey.” He paused, treading, not knowing what to do with his hands or pretty much any part of his body. At least, in your workshop, he had something to do. “...hey.”
“It’s nice to see you, how’s your homework going?” You rubbed your hands together to warm them and at the sight of your delicate fingers, he felt his cheeks heating up when he imagined holding them. 
“It’s... well, it’s going...” He sighed and watched his feet as they shuffled on the tiled floor. “It’s not going well if I’m being honest.” And with a shy smile, he rubbed the back of his neck, watching as you nodded in understanding. 
“I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes it really helps to just get started without thinking about it too much.”
He chuckled. That was exactly his problem. Because every time he wanted to start, he wondered what you would think about it. And then his thoughts drifted to you entirely and how your neck would bend when you watched him draw over his shoulder, or how your fingers swayed over his artwork to point out the parts you were talking about. God, he loved when you did that. 
“-only if you want, of course.” Your nose crinkled when Bucky’s mind brought him back to the coffee shop again. You were staring at him expectantly, your smile growing nervous with every second he took to register that you had just asked him a question.
Bucky had no idea what you had just said. He had been too lost in his daydream yet again and now he made you look stupid in the middle of this coffee shop. There wasn’t much time to decide what his response would be, but under no circumstance did he want to admit just how scattered he was around you. So without thinking, he just nodded with a tight-lipped smile and willed his knees to stay strong when your eyes brightened.
“Awesome! When are you free?” Free? Did you just ask him out and he hadn’t even paid attention?
“Uh, Sunday?” Bucky stammered as his heart began to pound in his chest. This has got to be a prank. 
You laughed, and Bucky got weak in the knees. “Sunday is workshop, silly.”
Stupid, stupid, Bucky. “Right, uh... Friday then.” The rapid beat in his chest took his breath away.
“Okay, great. Here give me your phone so I can give you my number.”
“You’re–“ Bucky choked as his hands scrambled to fish his phone out of his pocket. “Yes, yeah sure, cool.” Cool? Oh god. 
You took it from him, entered your contact with a little paintbrush emoji, called yourself, and handed it back to his sweaty hand. 
“I’ll text you my address.” You stepped forward to pay and retrieve your coffee, gifting the barista a smile that made him blush - apparently, you were a regular because Bucky did not remember you ordering - but then again - he didn’t really pay attention apparently. “Oh, and bring your art supplies!” 
And then you were out the door, letting crisp air into the cozy coffee shop, and Bucky standing dazed and confused as to what had just happened. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky stared at his phone for the fifth time now, making sure he was in front of the right door before ringing the bell. He was nervous, to say the least. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was on a date, not to mention the last time he felt this nervous about being on one. He was a strong believer in facts but you asking him out had to be a sign from the universe. One he would only get once and he could not screw it up. 
His hands smoothed over his black button-up one last time before adjusting his leather jacket again. Then he rang the bell and not even a minute later, you greeted him with a warm smile and urged him to give you his jacket to hang up. 
“I just made tea, do you want some?” Bucky followed you to the kitchen where the faint but homey scent of pumpkin spice filled the air. He watches as you scrambled to find your oven its and then retrieve something delicious smelling from the oven. “Cookies?” 
“I’m good with tea for now.” He chuckled in awe at how nice your home felt. Once he could tear his eyes away from you, he peered over the kitchen island into your living room, where many different artworks and photographs were displayed on the walls. Every pillow on your sofa had a different color and the blankets sprawled on it and the chair were too inviting for him not to picture the both of you cuddled up beneath them. 
“Alright then, suit yourself. But just know these are my specialty.” You snatched one from the tray before almost dropping it again. “Ouch, hot.”
Bucky felt drawn to the room. With all its warm light and fall-scented candles, hints of read books and discarded crocheting, with a crackling fireplace and soft carpeting. He also felt awfully intimate at the glimpse he got into your life by being here, but he had already declared this place his favorite in his mind. 
“Are you ready?” Bucky turned to you and watched as you padded your hands on your jeans, leaving faint flour prints on the dark denim.
“Ready for what?” He smiled again, he seemed to be unable to stop around you. But he was just so happy to be here, to be close to you, and to finally spend more time with you.
You chuckled and set two cups of tea on the table. “For your sketches. That’s the whole reason you came here for, remember?”
You settled on the ground and padded the sofa for Bucky. But he could just stand there and stare at you while trying to ignore the lump that began to build in his throat. He clenched the bag with his art supplies in his hand and watched as the soft material wrinkled in his grasp.
Of, course. He took a breath. How could he have been so naive? Then stepped towards the sofa. The whole thing had been a mistake. And finally sat down with a heavy smile. 
The sadness was filling him so fast, it threatened to spill right out of him, but Bucky wouldn’t let this little  big  dent in the road be shown in front of you. Instead, he focused on your hands when they pulled his sketch pad from his bag. And your eager smile when you flipped through his failed attempts on the paper. 
The whole atmosphere was wearing a thin layer of sorrow all of a sudden, and Bucky felt his heartache when you leaned over to him to point out the parts you liked the most. Your perfume seemed just that much sweeter as if it were mocking him all of a sudden. 
He didn’t listen. He just watched you with the same longing he’s had ever since he met you. Back to square one. Back to the distance he had with you before he foolishly thought you had asked him out. Except now he’d lost all the confidence left in him to take the next step. 
Bucky let the evening wash over him. Trying to concentrate on your tips and examples, tasting the tea you had offered to him with the sweetest smile. And before he knew it, he was standing in front of your apartment building again - with a box of those pumpkin cookies in hand and a heart that felt heavier than the bricks he was staring at. 
He sighed and began his walk back home.
❁ ❁ ❁
On Sunday he decided that he wouldn’t give up. Bucky didn't know what changed his mind. He just knew that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and him on that incredibly comfortable sofa of yours and the scent of your cedar and cinnamon candle which seemed to linger on his skin for days after his visit. He wanted to play the sketching games he had half-heartedly endured last time and he wanted to become a better artist. 
Bucky had left your cookie box at home as an excuse to meet up with you again. And even though he was sweating ferociously when he approached you after class, you had agreed to meet with him again. 
He’d left the gallery with a bright smile that evening. Excited for the next time he’d see you again and eager with daydreams on the subway home.
You and Bucky met up every week. Every time, spending a little longer not just drawing and it filled his heart with warmth and happiness. You shared laughter, and, in Bucky’s eyes, a growing connection with every passing meeting. 
He learned about your dreams and aspirations and told you about his past, his interests, and his most treasured fantasies.
As weeks turned into months, Bucky found himself drawn to you in more ways than the warmth radiating from your smile he’d noticed the first day he met you, or your talent of calmly helping him in every way possible. He admired your passion for art, your kindness, and your enchanting presence. The fear and the shyness that had gripped him at first, slowly faded away - replaced by a sense of comfort when he was with you. 
And soon he realized that there was nothing he didn’t love about you. This was how he got the courage to, on one calm evening spent on your sofa, between the colorful pillows he had been thinking about falling asleep on for weeks, place his hand in yours and intertwine your fingers with his. 
“I got something for you,” he whispered between dialogues of the Halloween movie playing on TV, watching as your eyes aimed up at him with curiosity. 
With reluctance, he peeled himself out of the warm blanket you shared and trudged to the sketchbook hidden in his bag. The initial idea had been dipped in silly confidence. But it was too late to back out now. He’d already told you about it. 
So despite his nervous heartbeat, Bucky came back to the sofa and handed you the book. 
“Open it,” he nudged when you carefully inspected the black leather binding, unaware of the confession hidden beneath. 
And when you did, he felt he could read every expression on your face like a poem. 
The book was filled with sketches of you. The first pages were scattered in hasty pencil drawings, misplaced lines, and unintentional dents. Then followed the section in which he had tried to pay attention to detail. The curve of your nose or the arch of your fingers when they pointed at his artwork. He could see them now, hovering over the sketches himself, and when you turned to the last page of the section, he could see the striking resemblance between them. And so did you. On the next turn, you revealed the latest portraits he’d added to the book - finally confident enough to attempt doing what he saw you as justice, to finally look past his mistakes - or happy little accidents as you called them - and just try it. 
Bucky had discovered that your weekly sketch sessions had done him good. And that you had secretly given him back what he had mourned after for so long.
“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you from the moment we met.” He whispered still, too afraid to break the moment you’d just created. “Thought it was time for me to tell you.”
Your eyes were glassy when you tore them from the pages in your hand, a shaky laugh escaping your lips when Bucky beamed down at you. “You did all of this for me-”
“Because of you,” he corrected and wiped a lonely tear from your cheek. “I never thought I could get the joy of drawing back until you showed me how.”
Bucky leaned in closer until your noses touched. “How to be less critical of myself.” He closed his eyes and let his hand linger on your skin. “And how to welcome a mistake by making it an accident-” 
And before he could finish that sentence, he felt your lips press to his and your warm hands wrap around his neck to pull him into your body. Bucky shivered in excitement, letting his hands trail down your back and falling into the soft cushions of your sofa while he pressed you to his chest protectively.
He sighed into the kiss, feeling his heart burn with excitement. 
Fascinating, how fast a mistake can turn into a happy little accident. 
I love you Bob Ross <3
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Text
Part 2 to this post
When gay marriage became legal, everyone expected Steve and Eddie to run to the courthouse and get it done.
They’d waited long enough.
But they were watching the news on a hospital room television instead of their home, keeping Wayne company while he received his last chemo treatment.
It had been a really rough six months, Eddie taking the brunt of caring for Wayne so Steve could work and pay the bills for all of them. But they wanted to.
Wayne had done so much for both of them, he deserved to be taken care of now.
The doctors had said he was getting to an age where the chemo would most likely only extend his life by a few years at most, that the cancer growing in his body would only be stopped temporarily by this drug that made him weaker than any cancer could.
At first, he didn’t want it. He told them both it wasn’t worth putting his body through it at his age, but Eddie convinced him through tears that he wasn’t ready to let him go yet.
And Wayne always did have a soft spot for Eddie’s tears.
Every other Friday, Wayne was brought to the hospital by Eddie, sometimes accompanied by Steve if his day off lined up right, hooked up to an IV of fluids and a harsh chemo mix, and kept for observation for 8 hours to ensure it didn’t cause any major issues on his frailer than he’d like to admit body.
The last treatment hadn’t gone well. Wayne ended up having low oxygen levels and high blood pressure, so they kept him overnight. Overnight turned into 3 nights, four days, which is sort of like a cruise to the Bahamas if you take out the fact they were in a hospital in Indiana.
Steve was holding Eddie’s hand as they all watched the tv, their silver wedding bands from a decade ago resting on their ring fingers.
It didn’t have to be legal to mean something to them.
Wayne had been much livelier over the last 24 hours, his blood pressure back at a normal for him level, though his oxygen level still fluctuated between too low and normal.
“Would ya look at that? They did it.”
Steve looked over at where he was sitting up in bed, smiling at the tv.
“They did.”
Eddie was wiping a tear from his cheek.
“Took them long enough.”
Everyone in the room huffed out an unamused laugh.
It did take way too long.
“Steve.”
Steve looked back over to Wayne and noticed he was looking tired again, like the news was the only reason he’d been forcing himself to be awake.
“You remember that bet?”
They’d made a lot of bets over the years, usually during March Madness. Wayne purposely bet against Steve because it was an easy win, even though they liked the same teams and often had similar brackets.
So no, he didn’t really remember whatever bet he was talking about now.
“Oh come on. I’m the old one here. You’re supposed to have great memory.”
“I’ve had like, eight concussions. My memory is like a goldfish.”
Eddie snorted next to him and nodded in agreement. Just this morning Eddie had to remind him that it was trash day despite it being the same day every week for the last 17 years they’d lived in their house.
“You owe me $5.”
“I’d remember that.”
“Eddie asked for you.”
Steve and Eddie looked at each other with concern. Was Wayne having a stroke? Was he slowly losing lucidity? He’d never shown any signs of memory problems, but sometimes being in the hospital had a lot of negative effects.
“When Eddie woke up in ‘86. I told you he’d ask for ya first and he did. Never collected on the bet because you two were too much.”
Steve suddenly remembered everything from that day, tears pooling in his eyes at how all of this started.
If he hadn’t stayed to hold Eddie’s hand then, would he be holding it now? Would they be husbands in every way but legally?
Steve looked at Eddie with a smile.
Then he turned to Wayne and smirked.
“Bet you $5 I propose right now.”
Wayne smirked back at him.
“Bet you won’t.”
Steve gave him the look that said ‘just watch me’ and stood up, dropping to one knee slowly.
“Eddie Munson. We already wear rings. We’ve lived together as husbands for so long, I can’t even believe we aren’t actually married. But I want to be. I want to fill out the stupid paperwork at the courthouse and maybe plan a little wedding with our kids and family. I want to have a honeymoon and be young and in love even though we aren’t young anymore. I want to be yours in every way starting right now. How does that sound?”
Eddie was crying. He was always more emotional than Steve, he just hid it better. Usually.
“You wanna be mine?”
“I’m already yours. I just want us to have everything.”
“Then I wanna be yours.”
“Good.”
Eddie leaned forward and kissed him, more passionately than they usually ever did in public or around Wayne. It was a special occasion, though, what choice did they really have?
After a minute, Steve pulled away and looked over to Wayne.
“Sorry about your $5.”
“I’m not.”
Wayne had never been more pleased to not be able to collect on a bet.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 11 months
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i've always loved the idea of a sunshiney/hippie reader with grumpy metalhead eddie, possibly involving her crystal collection or a tarot reading lol
Eddie was used to finding things in his van, his trailer, his bag - shit, even his pockets - that weren’t his.
It was collateral damage from running a bunch of preteens around, sharing babysitting duties with Steve, playing taxi cab and breakfast club. He’d find DnD die that weren’t his, old batteries from walkie talkies, sticky candy wrappers and lost baseball hats, trading cards and half empty bottles of pop that El wasn’t really supposed to drink.
And every time, he’d fuss about it, pretending to be meaner than he was, but fuck, sometimes it got a little too much. His trailer wasn’t big enough for him and Wayne as it was, and finding Lucas’ basketball uniform in his laundry only added to the list of things he needed to get done.
(He always washed it.)
So he’d chew everyone out and throw back their belongings to them like grenades, ranting about personal space and how his van wasn’t a trash can on wheels.
(“Yes it is,” Mike would always interject.)
And then you came along. Bright and bathed in colour, a pop of sunshine beside Eddie’s black and silver get up, always smiling even when the boy was scowling. It took a month, maybe two, of dating when Eddie started finding your things amongst his. It wasn’t anything overwhelming, like a toothbrush at his sink, or your clothes in his wardrobe - no, it was too early for that.
But he’d work a shift at the garage and sneak out the back for a unauthorised smoke break, hand shoved in his pocket to search for his lighter. He’d come up with a handful of rocks instead, pretty, colourful crystals that shone in the sunlight.
He didn’t need to ask to know that they were yours.
And when he drove home, his van rattling and the music blaring, another shiny thing caught his eye. Tucked amongst his cassettes, a lump of something smooth and dark, so black it was almost purple, hints of blue in its depths. He ran his thumb over it, smiling, and tucked it in his pocket with the rest.
By the time he saw you the next day, he’d collected a dozen of the things, scattered around his room, a tiny purple stone that looked like glass in the corner of his shower, a sky blue rock under his pillow.
He held them out to you like a handful of candy, pretty, shiny and colourful, dazzling in the sunlight - just like he thought of you. Eddie smiled when you scrunched your nose at him, looking a little embarrassed. But he took your hand in his free one, helping you clamber onto the bed beside him, your back to his chest as you sat between his spread legs.
Your pink dress clashed with his red shirt, an angry skull logo on the front of his, tiny daisies on yours.
You watched Eddie line up the crystals by size, a neat stripe of bright colour on his dark blue bedsheets. The boy hooked his chin over your shoulder and you could feel the smile he pressed against your cheek, one he’d saved up all day, just for you. He kissed your jaw, nuzzled his face into the crook of your shoulder, stubble scraping your skin until you squealed and laughed.
“These are pretty,” he finally said and you hummed, agreeing. He pointed to the black stone he’d found in his van. “What’s this for?”
“It’s obsidian,” you told him, picking the crystal up and turning it over in your hand. “S’meant to help with protection.”
Something inside Eddie’s chest bloomed, a pretty warmth that he was quickly associating with you. He smiled, hid it in your shoulder and tried not to turn as pink as your shoulder.
“Yeah? That’s awesome.” He pointed to another one, glittery and jagged and lilac coloured. “What about this-?”
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writethrough · 1 year
Note
hi !! i’ve been obsessed with your billy x reader fics <3 could i request smthing fluffy with him? maybe like they both have feelings for each other but r is too shy to admit it, so they try to flirt by doing that thing where they compare hand sizes?? idk just smthing fluffy w billy<3
Lost Things, Found Beginnings
(Billy Hargrove x Gender-Neutral Reader)
Warnings: Self-depricating thoughts
Word Count: 1907
A/N: Thank you so much! I absolutely loved this request! Thank you for being patient, and I really hope you like it!
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It caught your eye the moment you stepped out of your car. For all of the bad points of Hawkins, a good one was the pride business owners took in keeping their sidewalks clean. So, a ring lying on the curb was strange.
The silver gleamed in the sunlight as you crouched to pick it up.
Its intricate design tugged at your mind. Turning it this way and that, you tried to place where you had seen it. Then it hit you.
It belonged to Billy Hargrove.
Your face grew hot at the thought of returning it to him. How would you even approach him? It’s not like the two of you were friends.
In high school, you barely acknowledged one another. Billy had flirted with you once, but you were so stunned and flustered that you couldn’t even look at him when you answered with one syllable. After that, he never came up to you again.
Your stupid brain always short-circuited whenever an attractive guy spoke to you. Therefore, you tried to avoid speaking to attractive guys, even if, deep down, you wanted them to talk to you.
It just felt nice—to be wanted like that.
But you always ruined it.
You supposed it was for the best, though. Billy wasn’t the relationship type in high school. And you weren’t going to be another notch.
You’d seen him around a few times since.
You went to the pool sporadically this summer, and he threw a wink in your direction once, but you were convinced it was to the pretty blonde behind you. Her giggle had confirmed it.
Shaking your head, you slid the ring into your pocket and clocked in at the record store. But throughout your shift, it was all you could think about.
It wasn’t like you could just walk up and say, “Hey, I found your ring.” How would you explain that you knew it was his?
You couldn’t tell him you stared at his hands when he puffed on his cigarette. Or that you imagined the warmth they’d emit if they were on your hips or holding your own.
You traced the ring with your thumb, keeping it in your pocket so no one would catch you and ask about it. And by the time your shift was over, you’d become accustomed to the motion of it. So when you were locking up and driving home, you could still feel the carving rolling over your skin.
You lay in bed that night, placing the ring on each finger. It was big even on your thumb, and you tried to picture Billy’s hand alongside yours: large, warm, and strong.
You huffed, burying your face in your pillow until you couldn’t breathe. You hadn’t seen Billy in weeks and acted like a lovestruck teenager.
You had spotted him from the corner of your eye at the store last month and nearly booked it two aisles over. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen you. Or, at least, you didn’t think he had seen you.
It’s not like he would’ve said anything anyway. Besides, after that cringeworthy interaction in high school, he probably forgot you existed.
The next day you were working the closing shift. It was dead save a few middle schoolers on their way home.
Before you left this morning, you shoved the ring in your jacket, and it’s been a constant reminder that you had to return it to Billy.
You would probably have the most luck just going to the pool and handing it over. But that meant dealing with the eyes on you—on Billy, rather. They’d wonder what you were doing with him and how you got his ring. They’d whisper to their friends their speculations, and before you knew it, some rumor would circulate.
Maybe you could get Steve to do it or Eddie. Make them say they found it. They talked to Billy…
Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You could swing by Family Video and give it to Steve. He’d take pity on you and do it.
You let out a slow breath through your nose.
That was the plan then. You'd close up, find Steve—and if necessary—offer to buy the pizza on your next movie night.
You jumped when the little bell above the door jingled. And heat pooled into your cheeks at who entered.
Someone obviously hated you.
“Hey, (Y/N),” Billy said, hands shoved in his pockets.
“Hey.” You dug your thumb into the ring to keep your heart rate steady. How in the hell did he remember your name?
He strolled toward you, taking in the shelves of records, the clearance section, and the new releases.
“S’been awhile,” he said. “How’ve you been?”
“I’m alright. You?” You pressed the tip of your shoe into the floor and rested your hands on the countertop.
“Better now.” The corner of his mouth ticked up.
You furrowed your brow slightly, wondering what he meant by that.
He ignored your look. “Been looking for something, though.” Billy leaned his forearms on the counter, and it took everything in you not to shy away. “You wouldn’t have happened to find a ring anywhere?” he asked. “Lost it yesterday. Kinda like it back.”
You squeezed your fingers. You didn’t know which was worse: Billy asking you about his ring, your faux scenario of approaching him about it, or what you would have to do—pull said ring out of your pocket and act like it hadn’t been on your person for twenty-four hours.
You bit the inside of your cheek as you reached to retrieve and hold it in your palm.
“You mean this one?” You hoped he’d glaze over the faint tremble in your voice.
His shoulders slumped ever so slightly in relief as he exhaled.
“Been lookin’ everywhere for it,” he said, taking it and glancing at you. “Glad it was in safe hands.”
You gave him a small smile and nodded. “Happy I could help.”
The way he looked you over set off a trail of sparks on your skin—like he wanted to devour you. An exhilarating feeling since you weren’t his type.
You had floated around each other in high school after the incident. You had paid more attention to Billy than he did you. Watching his games with the rest of the marching band had put a little extra pep in your step. Sometimes he scanned over your section, and you swore he only looked away once he caught sight of you. But that had just been your mind playing tricks on you, making you see things you wanted.
You really tried to shake it off after seeing one of the cheerleaders hanging on his arm. And you rushed to your car before either of them could spot you.
“You wear it?” he asked. And maybe you were imagining it, but he sounded almost hopeful.
You shook your head. “S’too big. Didn’t want to lose it.”
He hummed, slipping his fingers under your palm and bringing it forward. His thumb traced your middle finger—where he had returned the ring on his left hand. Then, he held your hand open with his own so they were pressed against each other from heel to fingertips.
You’d never been this close to Billy and weren’t entirely sure what to do. Should you pull away? You really didn’t want to. What could you even say? You didn’t think you could speak with his body heat blanketing you and his eyes so intent where you were connected. It was like he was deep in thought, and you didn’t want to disturb him.
What could he be thinking about? He couldn’t be mad. You would know it. He didn’t exactly hide his anger well.
He was more focused than you’d ever seen him. And with how gently he touched you—his strong hands melting into your soft ones—you had to stop yourself from slipping your fingers between his.
You’d been so busy staring at your hands that when you finally looked at Billy, you were surprised—and slightly embarrassed—to find him smirking at you. A soft, playful smirk, one you had only seen in movies between a would-be couple.
He lowered your hand, letting his fingertips linger.
“Thank you,” he said.
You furrowed your brow, completely forgetting about why you were talking to him in the first place.
“For returning my ring,” he continued, trying to keep the smile at bay.
You shook your head slightly. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you have it back.”
His head tilted down as he laughed softly before looking up at you.
“The thing is, I do need to thank you.” He held his left hand up so you could see the ring. “This means a lot to me. So, you deserve a very big ‘thank you.’”
You glanced between him and the ring. His tone was suggestive, and it took everything in you to keep yourself from giggling like you were in high school again, and the cute boy you had a crush on was finally giving you attention—subconsciously, you acknowledged that was exactly what was happening.
“Let me take you out,” he said.
Your eyes widened. “Take me out?”
Was this just an opportunity for him? You had thought he changed since high school, but maybe you were wrong. Perhaps he still seized every chance to sleep with anyone he wanted. And you were the next one on his list. And frankly, you weren’t interested.
Sure, you had a crush on Billy in high school, but it was the kind that made you want to hold hands with him and cuddle while watching TV. Not the kind where you wanted to jump in bed with him the moment he spared you a glance.
You had thought the way he looked at you meant something more substantial, but maybe it was just surface-level attraction.
You had shifted slightly away from him, and his smooth facade dropped.
Maybe his past flashed through his mind, or he wanted to make you understand him.
“Like a date. Anywhere you want,” Billy said. His eyes were sincere, a look you had never seen on him.
It took you aback.
Your shoulders relaxed, and you leaned toward him once more.
“You wanna go on a date?” you asked. “‘Cause of the ring?”
“I’ve wanted to go on a date since senior year,” he said, lips ticking up at the corner.
“High school?” You didn’t think you could be in any more disbelief. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t want you involved in all my shit.”
It took you a moment to figure out what he meant. Then you remembered the newspaper article about Niel Hargrove being arrested. You thought you had understood Billy a little more after reading it. And now, he seemed to be a completed puzzle.
It almost made you want to cry. Billy had been dealing with so much, but he still wanted to protect you in that small way. 
“Okay,” you said, nodding.
“Okay?” His eyes lit up. “You wanna go on a date?”
“Yeah, I’d really like that.”
“Great!” He cleared his throat. “Good. How’s tomorrow?”
“Depends. Do I still get to pick the place?” You bit your lip to hold back your smile.
“Anywhere you want,” he repeated, eyes traveling to your lips and back up.
“Then pick me up at six,” you said, leaning forward.
His features softened. “I’ll be there.”
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