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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 month

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hello! hope ur doing well! love ur writing and excited for the blurb weekend!! was wondering if i could request number 2 and 8 from the pining list with steve harrington? love the way you write him always!! thank you!!!

“doing something nice for the other impulsively,” and “getting flustered when the other is nice to them.”

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Everyone knew about your crush on Steve. Everyone— well, apart from the boy himself. You weren’t sure how you could possibly hide it, your eyes wide and cheeks hot everytime he was near, words caught in your throat when he spoke to you and god, it took too long for you to be able to settle in his presence.

Which is why you’d taken to sticking to Robin’s side when he invited everyone around to his pool, the summer too hot and too sticky for doing much else. The Indiana heat was borderline cruel that year, endless blue skies pretty and relentless, no clouds for the sun to hide behind.

So everyone piled in to the Harrington’s backyard, swimsuits already on under shorts and baggy shirts, sliders and jelly shoes kicked to the side as everyone stripped at the sight of cool, blue water. Eddie had a radio playing, a somewhat playful argument between him and Nancy ensuing as music choices were discussed and Jonathan took to the shade, pulling a book out of his bag, a vibrant yellow bucket hat that El had gifted him pulled low on his brow.

Then Steve had made his way around you all, shirtless and with a baseball cap shoved on his messy hair, backwards and sporting a hockey team you didn’t know much about. He was already so tanned, prettier than normal with more freckles and flushed cheeks. The sight of him made your breath hitch, shoulder squaring off as you watched him hand a beer to Eddie, another to Jonathan.

Beside you, Robin snorted, shaking her head and watching you from behind cherry coloured sunglasses. You’d set up camp with her on the other side of the pool, heads burning from the sun but your feet dipped in the water, both of you smelling like chlorine and sunscreen.

You frowned, already waiting on the teasing that naturally came. You played dumb regardless, staring at your feet in the water, your skin a shade of blue, the lines of your toes rippling. “What?” You already sounded so defensive.

“Nothing,” Robin snorted. But she pushed her shoulder into yours, sticky with heat and lotion. “Just wondering when you’ll be able to look at Steve without absolutely falling apart.”

Your scowl deepened along with your embarrassment. But you feigned ignorance and watched Nancy fish out her lemon water from her bag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed.

Robin just hummed, grinning she stared across the yard. “Interesting.”

“Seriously, I do not fall—“

A shadow fell over both of you briefly before a broad shoulder brushed your own. Steve sat down next to you despite there being more room next to Robin, the heat from all his bare skin making you so, so aware of his proximity. You blinked, lips still parted from talking but the words had died off on your tongue. You felt the familiar creep of warmth along your chest, up your neck.

“Hey,” Steve greeted, his smile too kind, too pretty. “I brought you a drink.”

Instead of a cold can of beer, like he’d handed the boys, Steve offered you a glass. One of his mom’s fancy ones with the patterns along the side, a rosy pink tint to the liquid inside. It was filled with ice, fizzing and bubbling and it smelled like lemons and cherries. It even had a circle of the yellow citrus floating on top, summer in a cup.

It felt hard to talk when you took it from him, fingers brushing and you felt like a kid, like a teenager, a crush that was achingly awful, all consuming and gut wrenching.

He was so pretty and so close and—

“What’s that?” Robin peered over your shoulder, still grinning, looking particularly pleased with the situation she got to witness. “Where’s mine, dingus?”

The boy glared at his friend before he shrugged, all nonchalance and he gestured to you with cheeks more pink than your juice. “It’s just something I mixed up, alright? And you like beer, okay? You can grab a can, your legs work.”

You weren’t sure what made your heart beat faster, the fact that Steve had remembered you didn’t like beer or that he’d went out of his way to make you a drink that was more than a glass of soda.

Robin scoffed but she moved regardless, water dripping on your knees as she got up and walked around the pool, glaring at Steve as she went. “I see how it is,” she told him. “S’real cute, Steven. You could be more subtle next time.”

You were burning, you were sure of it. And Steve seemed to feel the same because he was red now, the tips of his ears scarlet and he flipped Robin off before she disappeared into the kitchen.

And then you realised you were alone with the boy. Something that didn’t happen often, something that you usually tried hard to avoid because you were floundering, both hands clasping the freezing cold glass and god, god— you were so aware that your body was mostly bare, your swimsuit green and suddenly too tight.

Steve’s naked chest was alarmingly close, moles and freckles dotted across sunkissed skin and with a smattering of hair, his arms corded with muscle you hadn’t really seen before, brushing up against yours as he glanced over at you.

He looked shy. Was Steve shy? Was that possible?

You realised you were staring a second too late, eyes flickering back to the pool and you tried not to cringe, or do something stupid, like tumble into the pool and float to the bottom.

So you slipped the straw Steve had placed in your cup between your lips, taking a sip. Bubbles touched your tongue, lemon and cherry and sweetness and tart filling your mouth. You hummed, taking another long drag and you could feel the boy smiling.

“D’you like it?”

You nodded, barely able to lift your head to meet Steve’s gaze but when you did, you were so glad of it. He was beaming, looking too pleased as you took another sip and his knee was bumping against yours, his hand on the pool edge and close to your thigh.

“It’s delicious,” you managed. “You didn’t have to though, I could’ve had some water or—“

Steve waved away your words, nose wrinkled and he tutted. “Nah, what? S’no big deal.”

It was. It was a big deal.

It felt momentous, actually.

“Did you make more?” You dared to ask, feeling brave with the sun in your eyes and Steve’s leg against your own. The water didn’t feel so cold anymore. “For everyone else?”

Steve couldn’t hide his smile then, lips pressed together and eyes crinkling as he shook his head, looking guilty and handsome for it. “No, just you.” He leaned in, like he was sharing a secret. “Don’t tell the rest of them, but, I like you the most.”

You felt hotter than the sun.

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mysticmunson · 1 year

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Alpha!eddie purposely being kept away from omega!reader because he has the urge to breed her. He becomes extremely aggressive and stronger than usual. Everyone keeps them apart because reader hasn't been with anyone before and they are worried eddie will hurt her. But he finally gets out and while reader is taking a bath he slowly pushes the door open and well you know what happens next. 😏

little glass doves: alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

authors note: oh my, i love ur mind, i had so much fun with this and hope you enjoy it. feel free to send thoughts, feedback, or more ideas. much love :)

warnings: mentions of smut, brief smut, a/o/b dynamic, sexual markings (hickeys) (18+ no minors)

The relationship was only a few weeks old when Eddie presented as an alpha and, mere days later, you an omega.

Isolated for your presentations, you were inseparable when released, constantly by each other's side. Everything from your body spray, your toothpaste, and natural scent was making him drunk. It was just so fresh still, an entirely brand new situation for you especially who had never had a boyfriend.

Before, you and Eddie had been close friends and then started to date. He pulled out all the classics, a drive in, a walk in the park, and even going to some pop concert you had been talking about for weeks. But the farthest you two had gotten was oral.

Tasting you was intoxicating, still feeling the way your folds kissed his lips that dripped with your arousal. Your mouth on him made him weak, feeling like he could burst at any moment with only one thought on his mind. You.

So as you reunited, something always came up when you tried to be alone together. Nancy had, for some inexplicable reason, been walking behind the school when she spotted the two of you making out. He had the urge to just scream for her to go away, but it also made him realize fucking against the back of the school wasn’t an ideal first time.

Despite this, he littered your skin with hickeys from the quick make out seshes he could muster in between classes. His hand was like a vice on you, not wanting any space between your tingling skin. Only people could force him away from you.

It was the very reason Eddie sat with Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle at the diner just outside of town. The waitresses knew them by name, letting them have the best booth in the house, starting with french fries for the table.

“Dude, these fries feel like angels tap dancing on my tongue.” Argyle mused, mixing his ketchup and mayonnaise into an interesting pink color, dipping a crisp potato.

The surrounding boys agreed and Eddie ate reluctantly, only envisioning you. He would do anything to have you alone right now, but Nancy, Eden and Robin insisted on taking you shopping.

“Hey!” Steve yelped, blowing the paper of his straw at Eddie’s reddened cheeks due to a strange mix of frustration, arousal, and anger. “We’re trying to talk to you.”

“What.” He bit, crossing his arms and leaning against the turquoise leather seats that squeaked.

“We’re going to the movies later, you’re coming. It's the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” Jonathan explained, taking a sip of his Coke, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Shaking his head adamantly, he scoffed, bewildered they would even suggest. Typically, that would be his type of night, but not when he knew you'd be alone, ready for him at home. With your body becoming accustomed to your omega needs and desires, all Eddie could think of was pumping you full.

The idea of having kids didn’t thrill him until you, now he wanted to fill you to the brim, watching it slip out so he could push it back in with his fingers. He’d chuckle at your sensitivity as he gave you another load, your mascara running down your pretty cheeks as you begged him to fill you one more time.

He could see it perfectly, tempted to just crash wherever the girls had taken you and bring you to his trailer. Or even your home, decorated in soft colors and scented like pastries from the assortment of candles. He had only been over a few times as his trailer seemed to be the common meeting grounds, but even then, he thought of making you fall apart.

He’d get hard as you sat innocently, gasping when you felt him, sitting on his lap with wide eyes. He’d get you naked, grabbing your hips and fucking into you with miniscule time in between. It was almost shameful how much the idea of using you like a fuckdoll turned him on, but he would always make you finish, comfortable and loved.

“You’re not gonna see her tonight, man.” Steve sighed, looking with empathy at Eddie’s stern face that clearly was holding back a lot of emotion. Each word they spoke seemed to derail his plans, forcibly jostled around as if in amusement.

“What the hell are you guys talking about? I’ve been trying to see her alone for two weeks and something always comes up! I’m fucking over it.” Eddie huffs, voice raising slightly, drawing the attention of the older couple in the front, sipping their coffee.

They looked away once Steve swirled his finger, making them turn back around in shame that they had been caught.

“Can’t have any lil Munson-reno’s out there.” Argyle hummed, creating the nickname from the crevices of his brain, giggling to himself after he said it.

“That’s none of your business what we do-“ Eddie snapped, hands going to the table as he leaned forward, clutching the white, wooden table.

Jonathan grabbed his shoulder from beside him, yanking him to sit upwards and patted his back. He attempted to take a deep breath, knowing he was on a hormonal high, but also notoriously not a fan of people telling him what to do.

“C’mon man, she didn’t even do it before presenting and we all went to the same health class so we know alphas are a lot. Now, she’s an emotional mess and you,” Jonathan accentuates by poking his chest, “Are basically a hormonal bomb ready to impregnate anything. Just wait.”

Cringing at his wording, Eddie’s face scrunched as he grumbled. It was crude, but the worst part was that he was right. You probably needed something more gentle than what Eddie could give you at his heightened state.

“I won’t be rough, asshole.” Eddie all, but growled, fisting the white napkin in his fists.

“Eddie, you’re not a violent dude, we know that. But this? This is instinct, it takes over the second it happens.” Steve lectured as kindly as he could, “We know you care about her, but you’re already marking her up with the few minutes you do have alone.”

Why did they have to be right? He wished he had a shock collar that would zap anytime he went too rough, but you were so receptive, basking in it even in the few moments. His thought process was cut short when the waitress brought over his burger, thankful for even the smallest distraction.

The boys did a good job of entertaining Eddie for the next few days, just as the girls had been for you. Keeping you distracted was a different type of battle though.

You weren’t aggressively trying to run towards him, elbowing anyone out of the way. Your response was more solemn as you emotionally craved your boyfriend, not officially becoming alpha and omega paired. It registered as almost a cruel rejection, wishing for even a moment alone to prove how good you could be for him.

Thinking of him made your eyes haze, clutching to the shirt he left over weeks ago and not wanting to leave bed. Or crying over not seeing him for a few hours, something you never would’ve done previously.

“I know it sucks, babe, but we’ll be here to cheer you up!” Eden consoled, rubbing your back in small circles as you laid on your side on Robin’s couch. Eden was the only one who truly knew how you felt, presenting as an omega a few months ago, but Argyle hadn’t. Boys typically presented later, stereotypically alphas, but sometimes omegas or betas.

A week went by, Eddie was getting restless as were you. The brief moments in school were refrained to holding hands and sitting beside each other with far too many layers of clothes between.

He had accidentally dropped his DnD dice in your English class, having to rush out to meet a customer in the woods, so you picked it up. Twirling the blue D20 with white numbers, still not entirely understanding the game, but knowing enough to watch every Friday.

Passing by Dustin, you told him to mention the dice, when Eddie made his way back to campus. He nodded, not paying much attention as he and Mike argued about if riding their bikes to school was dorky or not.

You had made it home by the time Dustin told Eddie, holding out his hand for the sketches the older peer promised to lend him to trace. The younger boys rode off as he walked to his van, sitting in silence for a moment.

This was his chance, he could finally be with you alone in your home, surrounded by your dainty trinkets on your night stand and pretty dresses in your closet. Everything about you made him swoon no matter how mundane.

He talked himself out of it, reminding himself that you might need more time and getting riled up will only make him pent up. More than anything, he craved intimacy in other ways like your movie nights that occurred when you were just friends.

He hadn’t even realized he made it to your house until he stepped on your doormat, the crunch beneath his feet making him knock. A few seconds passed by until he knocked again, sighing with no answer.

The spare key was hidden under the mat, figuring you were listening to music or studying, and you assured him that he could let himself inside, even when just friends. His hands were shaking as he unlocked it, taking off his white sneakers inside.

Wandering around the quiet halls, he was growing more curious as to where you were, knowing you didn’t do any extracurriculars this week. Curiosity was shot down when he saw the light from the bathroom creeping into the rest of the walkway.

With no one due home for hours, you had left the door wide open, sitting inside the pure white tub. You looked completely relaxed, dewy from the heat steaming from the water, glancing over when you saw him.

“Oh, hi Eds,” You smiled, slightly embarrassed, “Y-your dice are in there.”

Fuck the dice. Not when you were sitting completely naked beneath a sea of white bubbles, skin soft from the creamy body wash you used. He trudged forward, clenching his eyes tight and inhaling.

He mentally slapped himself, making his way over to your bedroom, his dice resting beside your two petite glass doves. The two birds connected at the mouth, something you found at a trinket store, insisting you purchase it. He tried to forget you were in such a compromising position only feet away, but the memory only reminded him how gentle and sweet you were.

The pattering of feet brought his attention to the doorway as you stood, wrapped in a yellow towel, heat rising to your cheeks from the cleansing and intensity. He didn’t say a word as he shoved the small piece into his pocket, crossing his arms firmly, not in an intimidating manner, but just to keep him restrained.

“I’ve missed you, Eds.” You smiled, hand tightening around the top of the towel, covering just above your breasts. He felt his blood rushing, opening his mouth with nothing coming forward.

He reciprocated the longing with a chuckle, soon pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as you swarmed him. It was almost as if you were confining him. But all you had done was take a step closer, pressing your lips against his like he was being sunkissed on a fresh spring day.

“Sweetheart, I need you to say you want this or I need to leave.” He blurted, hating his proposition, but knowing he was far too gone to be around you. His jeans tightened as he bit his lip, feeling your covering skid over his goosebump littered arms.

“Please.” You whimpered, knocking all the wind from his gut as he grunted, lifting you up to toss you on the bed.

His kiss was fiery, plush lips tasting your vanilla lip balm, feeling your hands mangle through his curls. His hands went to your towel, ripping it away in a quick swipe, making you gasp at how it ran across your body.

He stood up to remove his clothes, a low growl filling the air as he stared at you. Your breasts still coated in droplets of water, your legs scented like your cotton candy shaving cream, and your pussy on display.

As his cock sprang free from his boxers, knot forming quickly, you gasped and he could see the way you clenched. The arousal seeped from your desperate hole, not mentally even understanding just how badly you needed this, how much better you’d feel.

Running his fingers through your folds, he leaned on top of you, one knee on the bed for balance. He felt your trembling, hands gripping his shoulders as if that would slow him down, but you didn’t want the motions to cease anyways.

“Want to be your omega.” You cried, his finger swirling around your hole, bringing his digits to his mouth. Somehow, you tasted more divine than before, like a perfect palate made just for him.

Angling himself, he planted both knees beside you, breathing heavily over your face. A tear or two fell against your cheeks, mouth opened for any form of touch he wanted to give, whether it be lips, fingers, or even just to humiliate you, you wanted to entertain him. To be his starring role, even for the next ten minutes, drawing the curtains until he was ready for the next performance.

His tip ran through your lower lips, moaning at how you felt, feeling so horny, yet so emotional. He felt like he could cry, how dainty you appeared to him in this moment, and how he just wanted to ruin you. He wanted you to be chanting his name, unable to construct any other thoughts than him. He chuckled, looking down at you with his soft brown eyes that now held something more domineering.

“Oh sweetheart,” He cooed as you awaited his response, seeing how desperately you wanted to be his omega, he thrusted into you as you cried out, “You already are.”

hi, thank u for making it to the end, im giving u a forehead kiss.

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kiss-me-cill-me · 2 months

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i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭

also ps i love u and ur writing !!!

This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3

Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.

Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity

A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.

Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it… honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.

You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.

Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle.

Broken.

You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.

A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.

You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body.

The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see…

Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.

“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”

“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”

“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself.

His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.

“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.

Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.

“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat.

The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But… how else were you supposed to see each other?

Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.

“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.

Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.

“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”

Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.

You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.

Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.

So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.

“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.

“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally.

The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.

“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.

That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you.

He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering.

But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.

“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”

“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”

You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.

“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”

“I’m…” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just… lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”

The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.

“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.

You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.

“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.

But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.

With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.

“Remember when I used to do this for you?”

Crane stiffened slightly beside you.

“Things have changed since then,” he muttered.

Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.

His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.

“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”

“You don’t.”

Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.

“I do. And I will. Always.”

You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.

“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me…” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”

“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“You can’t be.”

Always so stubborn.

“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”

Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror.

“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”

“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”

“Stop.”

“Don’t you remember? We promised-”

“Things. Change.” Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.

You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.

“But they don’t have to,” you breathed.

Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.

“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.

“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”

“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”

“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”

You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours.

At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands.

Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.

“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”

Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.

“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”

Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.

“Jonathan. You know the reason I’m in here, don’t you?”

“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about…”

Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”

“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”

“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”

“Stop.”

Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.

“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.

“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”

“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”

“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”

“Jesus Christ…”

Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.

“This. You must remember this.”

Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.

“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”

How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him.

The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together.

The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.

Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.

“Of course I remember.”

Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”

Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.

“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”

“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”

You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable.

You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.

“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”

“Appearances…” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”

He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly.

His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out.

Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.

Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there.

Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.

If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave.

You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what.

There would be no getting away.

This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #angst #LemmyFics

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kennahjune · 6 months

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PART 3 OF S3 STEDDIE!!

(Hopefully the last part)

Tag list: @nuggies4life @waelkyring @goodolefashionedloverboi @forest-fogg @cometsandstardust @bird-with-pencils @y4r3luv @xxsky-shockxx @lil-gremlin-things @giopandaonice @hippieg1rl420 @yoyokiss97 @stucksolangelo (I love ur user) @pizazzmcjazz @samsoble @mugloversonly @how-about-nah-honey @newmoonydude @the-alpha-ursae-minoris @r0binscript @queenie-ofthe-void @myguiltyartpleasure @geekymagicalpotato @b-e-e-b-o-i @shunna @slitherynchiken @sweetheartprincess28 @tinyplanet95 @enoki-mushrooms @wrenisflying @pending-dope-username @gaelicblue @maya-custodios-dionach

Welcome to Part 3!!

…

Eddie watched Steve talk to Jonathan through the window of his car, checking to make sure he would be ok with Billy coming by. Apparently, from what they told Eddie, last time Billy came to pick up Max from the Byers’, he threatened to kill Lucas and gave Steve one of his worst concussions.

So fun.

When they finally drove off, Eddie and Steve stood side by side for a good minute, neither moving or even looking at each other, just standing. Until Steve made the first move to the bikes and Eddie followed.

They stayed in silence while they loaded everything into the back of the van. Mike’s bike first, then Lucas’. Then when Eddie closed the door, Steve finally spoke.

“I really am sorry about them.”

Eddie hummed and looked at him, but Steve was looking down and was biting his nails. Eddie hoped he realized it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“No it’s fine— really, man. They weren’t doin’ any harm.” Eddie tried to reassure. Steve looked up at him skeptically, still chewing at his nails. Eddie really wanted to stop him. To pull his hands away from his mouth and hold them in his own instead. He bets Steve has soft hands.

“They really didn’t bother you? Like actually? Because I know they can all seem really pushy— even Will, in his own way— but I promise they don’t mean any harm.”

Eddie sighed, watching Steve’s eyes flit back and forth between his own. “Steve. I promise, they weren’t pushy or overwhelming or anything that might be going through that pretty little head of yours.” Steve paused and Eddie reveled in the pink that rose to his face. He smirked lightly. “If anything, it was sweet. They care about you a lot.”

Steve scoffed and turned away, walking around the van to get in, but he could see the smile on his face. Eddie chuckled and followed him over to the passenger side. When Steve hopped up and got in Eddie held the door open and leaned closely.

“What? Don’t believe me?” he smirked. The pink on Steve’s face darkened and he desperately held back a smile. “They were all over me, sweetheart. Asking questions about why I wanted to help, how I knew you, how we went to school together.” Eddie listed.

Steve scoffed again and turned away. “Get in the van, Munson.”

“Oh so I’m Munson now?”

“I swear to god—“

Eddie cackled and ran over to his side. Steve closed the door while Eddie jumped in.

…

The ride was really fun. Eddie expected it to be somewhat awkward and quiet but Steve was quite the talker. Eddie was content to listen while Steve went on and on about the kids; one in particular named Dustin, who was apparently at a summer camp.

They dropped off Mike’s bike first, Steve stopping in to say hi to the Lady Wheelers before popping back out and into the van. This time with a sticker or two on his face.

“Holly,” he said, as if that explained it all.

“Ah,” he responded, and started driving.

Lucas’ was next, Steve being greeted outside by Mrs. Sinclair and apparently Lucas’ little sister Erica.

Mrs. Sinclair took the bike while Steve argued with Erica about something or other, Eddie wasn’t really paying attention to anything other than how hot Steve was when he had his hands on his hips. Those shorts did wonders for his ass, Eddie had to admit.

When Steve finally got back in the car after a hug goodbye from Mrs. Sinclair Eddie was smoking a cigarette out the window. Steve eyed his curiously. “You alright?”

Eddie finished his last drag and nodded, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray he had in his cup holder.

As Steve buckled up and Eddie pulled out he asked “Where to now, baby?”

When Steve didn’t answer for a good couple of seconds, Eddie looked over.

Steve was red in the face. Like— really red. His eyes were wide and Eddie could see a bit of green mixed with the hazel, exposed by the dying sunlight. “You alright?” he asked skeptically.

Steve nodded slowly and swallowed. He turned his head to look out the window and brought his feet up on the seat to fold against his chest. He mumbled “Your place for my car” before he folded one arm against his chest and the other against the window to pillow his head. Eddie smiled giddily and started to the trailer.

…

“Baby”. The only thing that was going through Steve’s head right now.

When was the last time he’d been called any sort of pet name? Let alone something so intimate? Short answer: never. Steve was always using the pet names in relationships— both platonic and romantic. So hearing Eddie Munson, in his western accent and deep, rumbly voice, call him “baby” had sent him spiraling off kilter.

Steve closed in on himself best he could while being confined to the van. He could suddenly feel everything on him; where his shorts slightly rode up, how his shirt brushed against his shoulders oddly, how the stickers on his face from Holly stabbed slightly at his skin, everything. It was a little overwhelming.

He didn’t even notice when they pulled onto the street of Eddie’s trailer, or when the van pulled into the driveway, or when the van stopped. He jumped and nearly hit himself in the face when a hand landed on his thigh.

“Sorry!” came the rushed apology from Eddie, who quickly retracted his touch. Steve mourned the loss the of the warmth. “We’re here. You were hella zoned out so I didn’t think you noticed,” Eddie hastily explained.

With a moments pause Steve studied Eddie carefully. He studied the rosy blush on his cheeks, his ruffled hair, his dark eyes, his pretty pink lips. Steve cleared his throat and thanked him before jumping out of the van.

“Hey, man,” Eddie called to him before Steve could reach his own car. “You wanna come in for a bit? It’s only 3 and you look like you could use a nice beer.”

“Oh— I don’t want to intrude—“

“The King? Scared of intruding on a simple peasants home? How the times have changed!” Eddie placed a hand over his heart dramatically while smirking at Steve.

Steve watched him for a moment, smiled so wide his face hurt, and finally accepted. “Fuck it. Sure, I could use a beer.”

And that’s where they were now, sitting in Eddie’s room, drinking their beers and sharing their silence. Steve didn’t think it was awkward, but the more beer he drank the more he felt the urge to fill the silence that settled comfortably between them. He always was a talkative drunk.

“Hey, Eddie.” Steve placed his beer on the crowded bedside table and rolled over on his stomach. “Thanks.”

Eddie eyed him oddly and took another swig of his own beer before reaching over Steve to place it down. Steve preened at the closeness of Eddie reaching over him and rolled back into his back. When Eddie sat back down he asked

“Thanks for what?”

Steve exhaled silently. “Thanks for helping me yesterday. Most people would’ve just left. Hey— I also need to thank your friends. Jeff and Gareth right?”

Eddie paused and looked at Steve. Steve swallowed and felt his breathing pick up slightly. Beer makes it hard for him to conceal emotions. Not that there was anything he was hiding.

Eddie smirked. “You can tell them yourselves tomorrow. I planned on stopping by the store for a bit to get the ice cream I never got yesterday.”

Steve scoffed and smacked Eddie’s leg. They’ve never really spoken to each other before this. Fleeting looks in the halls, catching each other’s eyes in the cafeteria, but never speaking. If they spoke during high school then they threatened to break whatever spell was over them.

But this; this is different. This isn’t them being scared to interact. This is them taking every risk, every threat, and hitting it head on. This was Steve leaving his comfort zone to find something better.

But there wasn’t anything else to it.

(Who is he lying to?)

A sudden thought hit Steve. “Hey, do you still have that club? That DND one?”

Eddie startled a little too hard and coughed. Steve panicked and sat up, patting him on the back and yelling to “fucking breathe”.

“Holy shit.” Eddie coughed/laughed out. “His highness is acquainted with the farmer boy’s game.” He smirked.

Steve huffed and folded his arms, leaning on the headboard. “I’ve never played it myself. But the kids are all really obsessed.”

“Even Max?”

“No, just the boys.”

“Ah. And you brought up Hellfire, why?”

“Because I was wondering if you could take them in next year. They’re starting their freshman year and I want them to be as comfortable as they can. Hellfire will do that for them.”

Eddie regarded him closely, and Steve felt himself go stiff under his gaze; his shoulders rose and his arms tightened against his chest.

“You really care about those kids, huh Harrington?”

Steve exhaled. “Yeah.” his response came out barely above a whisper.

It was near 4 now, according to the clock on Eddie’s dresser. Steve really should be going. The kids would blow up his walkie if he took any longer.

But he didn’t want to move. Steve was caught in Eddie’s gaze; wonderment, curiosity, hunger. It was endearing and Steve didn’t want it to end. When was the last time someone looked at him like that? He doesn’t think Nancy ever looked at him like— even before everything went to shit.

He took in a deep breath when Eddie’s eyes flickered to his eyes and then his lips. His eyes then his lips. His eyes then his lips.

Steve sat up slowly, not knowing what else to do.

“Um—“ his voice cracked and Eddie smirked. “I have to— I have to— um, uh—“

“You have to leave?” Eddie supplied, raising an eyebrow.

Steve nodded vigorously. Gods he could feel the heat in his face while Eddie continued to smirk.

He had a lot to think about as Eddie guided him to the front door, talking lowly as to not disturb the quietness they’ve contained for the past hour. Eddie also had a hand on the small of Steve’s back, guiding him down the hall and through the living room. Steve chose not to say anything; he liked the warmth of Eddie’s hand on his back.

Eddie sees him to his car and all the while he’s talking very quietly, the cadence of his voice soothing and calming. Steve loved the way it reverberated through his skull in a soft thrum.

Steve doesn’t remember much about driving to the Byers’, he remembers pulling out of the trailer and turning on the radio, Take On Me playing quietly in the background as if letting his thoughts take front stage. He didn’t know how to feel about anything. But he knew he needed to get to the Byers’ before Max left.

Only when he blinked into reality did he notice the blue eyes in the blue Camaro staring at him intensely. Steve gulped. He couldn’t deal with this, not after such a bad migraine. Not after what happened last year.

But to Steve’s confusion, when Billy got out of his car and Steve did the same, there were no words exchanged. No death threats. No “I’ll kick your ass”. Nothing. In fact— Billy seemed headstand around Steve. And with a fluttering sensation in his gut and a small pick-up in his heartbeat, Steve thought for a moment that maybe Eddie said something to Billy yesterday to make him back off.

He disregarded this thought almost immediately.

Now he and Billy stood side by side on the Byers’ porch. Steve stood idly by, not wanting to get too close to Billy and risk having bad attitude rubbed off on him.

“Well?” Billy snapped after a moment. Steve loathed the way he jumped in his skin. “I’m not fucking knocking.”

“I didn’t know you knew what the hell that was,” Steve uttered while giving four sharp knocks to the door. Billy growled. Call animal control, Steve thought silently to himself.

“Clam it, Harrington. Just cause you have Munson on your side doesn’t do shit to save you. I’ll have your ass down and folded in seconds if I really wanted to.”

On his side?

“Talk all you want Billy, you’re all bark no bite. You scream and you talk and you say shit and yet when was the last time you followed through with something, huh? Does the new King find himself in a pickle? Or did everyone finally leave the damn kingdom.”

Billy looked ready to murder and probably would have had Jonathan not opened the door right at that moment. Billy eyed him cautiously, less in fear and more in “you know things you shouldn’t”. You know, the way Jonathan’s typically eyed.

“Steve, hey. Hargrove.” Jonathan nodded to them.

“Hey, Jon.” Steve smiled. Billy tutted and huffed, his arms crossed.

“Just get the girl already. Neil’s gonna have my ass if she doesn’t he out here already.”

Jonathan eyed Billy silently. Everyone seemed to be eyeing each other today. He nodded and went back into the house. When Billy noticed that Steve had made no moves to go inside as well, he raised an eyebrow and seemed to close in on himself even more.

“The hell are you waiting for, Harrington? You going in or not?”

Steve shrugged. He really wasn’t going anywhere until he saw Max and Billy drive away. He knew Billy wouldn’t try anything if he knew Steve was watching, and Steve was determined to keep Max as safe as possible— even if for a few seconds.

“I’m waiting for the boys. I’m dropping them off.” Which wasn’t an entire lie, really.

“Whatever.”

Max emerged from the house at that moment, eyeing Billy warily, as if he might shatter in a moments notice. Steve huffed a barely audible laugh. Max’s hair was sticking up in every-which-way; she must’ve taken a nap.

Billy stalked off the porch without a word. Jonathan was in the doorway now as well, watching Max step up to Steve and hug him before running off to the car.

“Stay safe, Red!” Steve called after her.

Max waved and called back “I will!”

Steve waved to her the entire way down the street until she and the car were gone. When he turned back to Jonathan, the latter was smiling at him. Steve blushed to the tip of his ears.

“What?”

Jonathan snickered. “Nothin, man. Get the hell in here.”

…

Mike and Lucas were hounding him the moment he stepped into the living room. Will clearly had something to say as well but kept his distance. To Steve’s pleasant surprise, El and Hopper were there as well.

Steve told them how they dropped the bikes off and explained the star and smiley stickers on his face. But he kept everything else to himself.

Hopper huffed and put his cigarette out. “Watch yourself around him, kid. Munson’s trouble.”

Steve scoffed. “Eddie couldn’t hurt a fly. He’d run in the opposite direction. You’re just wary cause he’s Hawkins’ best dealer.”

Hopper huffed and rapped his knuckles on the coffee table. “That’s exactly it. I don’t none of you kids getting involved in that shit.”

“And we won’t, you old man,” exclaimed Mike from where he sat between Will and El. “No one here is interested in that shit and I doubt he’d sell to any of us.”

Lucas and Will nodded. El had no idea what they were talking about.

Steve snorted and shared a look with Jonathan and Joyce.

“Anyway,” Steve interrupted before Hopper and Mike could chew each other’s heads off. “I better get Mike and Lucas home soon.”

Everyone groaned, including El.

“Why not have a sleepover?” El asked slowly, piecing together the sentence.

Steve shrugged. “I have no objections. But you’d all be going home early cause I have work.”

“Why couldn’t we go to work with you?” asked Mike. Lucas and Will nodded while El looked at him and Hopper expectantly.

“Um—“ Steve looked at Hopper.

“Steve, El. Kitchen please.” Hopper stood up and walked off, expecting them to follow. Steve gulped and followed with El. Oh what the fuck?

…

Eddie was positively floating the next day. He was convinced he actually had a chance Steve Harrington of all people. And no one was telling him otherwise.

As promised to Steve the previous day, Eddie was back at Scoops Ahoy. He was tagged along with Jeff and Gareth just as yesterday— but with the new addition Brian finally joining them.

(Idk if I gave him a name in the other parts so he’s Brian now.)

Just as Eddie opened the door to walk in, it burst open and he was surrounded by four familiar kids. There was a new face who lingered towards the back and Eddie waved at her. She waved back, but didn’t smile. It kind of threw Eddie off.

But Steve was inside the shop with Robin, talking animatedly to Jonathan, and Eddie felt right at home.

Man, when did that happen?

…

OK OK IM SORRY ILL MAKE A PART 4 😭😭

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #el hopper #steddie thoughts #steddie hcs #steddie fics #steve harrington gets killer migraines #but he has his emotional support metalhead to help #this is part 3 #i’m sorry #I’ll make a spare 4

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josibunn · 4 months

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Naughty or nice?

happy holidays and merry christmas to those who celebrate! and thank u for 300 followers, I love u guys and i’ve made so many nice moots :3 I hope u guys enjoy this one. You n jack have a christmas party to attend! someone’s not happy about your outfit tho :( smut, oral male receiving, p in v no protection, choking, gagging?? he puts his thumbs in your mouth idk, VERY public sex, body worship sort of? you’ll know it when you see it, he’s so mean with it, daddy kink, soft dom jack, man he’s so dirty n mean perverted here I wonder who did that🤔

(ur fit :3)

jack didn’t want to dress up, but you still put him in something cute. he had an ugly sweater on that displayed santa flying his sleigh and the reindeers, tiny christmas lights powered into his sweater for Rudolph’s nose and a santa hat to match yours. he wasn’t too fond for your outfit, he didn’t not like it, he thought you looked beautiful, but god it was so short, and your boobs hung out, the thought of a man hitting on you let alone approaching you had him weak in the knees wanting to throw up.

you and jack had been invited for to a Christmas party by some work friends! though it wasn’t what jack was into, being the antisocial guy he is, he went for you. you guys had matching outfits (sort of), you wore your frilly Mrs. Claus two piece with some thigh high black boots, topping it off with a santa hat.

“onea these ugly sons of bitches are gonna come up to you all smooth talky n shit and i’m gonna have to embarrass you, you understand?” he says as you two make it to the car and you laugh, though he’s not joking. “i’ll stay close to you, ok? trust me, only guys that’s gonna smooth talk me tonight is don julio,” you stick your tongue out as you plop into the car, and he rolls his eyes, laughing lightly as he gets in too.

and you kept your word, dragging jack around the house, making him take your photos, watching you take shots, playin the little games with you, catching the ass you throw even though he hated the eyes on him, on you. he should’ve left some sort of marking, a hickey or something on you before you left, because even though he was the only one smacking your ass as you plant your hands on the floor and twerk on him, shared shots with, taking your pictures and so on, guys still tried to make advances towards you, right in front of him, actually.

jack had joined the school of tired men on the couch as you live it up with some friends on the other side, a cold glass of whiskey in his hands as he conversed. “hey jack, isn’t that you over there?” the use of “you” let him know he was talking about his girlfriend in a possessive manner, he turned his head quick, seeing you on the opposite side of the room, your cheeks taken in another man’s hand as you look up with your tongue out, a shot being poured in your mouth.

his head jerks forward at the display in shock, anger building in him as he watches you giggle before looking his way, feeling his eyes on you. you smile tipsily and wave, and so does the guy, making him scoff, “are you serious?” he says under his breath before motioning for you to come over, and you oblige, not know he’s bout to do exactly what he said he was and embarrass you.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he tries not to spit, gripping his glass. “huh? I-i’m takin’ shots, you wanna join?” you sense his anger as you bend over a little, hands on your knees as you try n keep your big eyes on him. “no, not that. who’s that?” he points behind you to the guy you were just with. “his names…jonathan, I think.”

“ok. well tell him to fuck off. I don’t wanna see that shit again, if you wanna take shots you take ‘em with me or someone else, you hear?” hes rubbing your leg as you begin to pout, “oh, but..he’s funny n nice..” “what’d I just say, baby?” he whispers, it has you heating up, feeling the eyes next to him on you now. “don’t make me embarrass you in front of everyone, you either do something else or sit that ass down.”

you nod before he gives you a small kiss, tapping the back of your thigh and sending you on your way. “I dunno how you do it jack, I would’ve wrecked havoc.” his buddy says from beside him. “especially when she’s so pretty, i’d go crazy bout that.”

he didn’t look into how backhanded that was and shrugged, finishing his drink. “she knows better, just a little drunk. i’ve got it under control.” he watches you intently as you join the girls on their knees in a pile, giggling as you pour yourself another spiked batch of punch.

he watches your skirt ride up as you crawl towards your friends, your barely covering underwear peaking from your skirt, making him sigh softly. “oh yeah dude, i’d go insane.” his friend once again says, and the use of dude and the oversexualization of you has him rolling his eyes and cringing.

his leg bounces as he cuts himself from the conversation and continues to watch you before getting up and heading to the table with the drinks, pouring himself. he takes notice to the guy standing next to him doing the same while also looking back at the group of girls.

“you gettin it on tonight?” he asks jack, and jack cringed, he didn’t think he’d make any conversation tonight, let alone christmas sex conversation. “maybe. my girls back there taking shots with everyone under the sun so probably not,” he forces a chuckle with the guy, and almost leaves until he kept going.

“i’m thinkin’ about takin’ that one, mrs. claus in the black boots. she came in with some guy and I don’t know em but that’s not stoppin me, like, clearly he doesn’t give a fuck what she does if he let her come out like that.” he laughs, and jacks tongue circles his teeth as he nods, gripping his cup again. “right? like that’s so crazy, i’d never.” he shakes his head and rolls his eyes, trying to force another laugh.

a smirk creeps on his face when he sees you stand and look for him, smiling when you see him at the table. “ooh she’s comin, they just flock to me yknow?” the random says, and jack nods, perking his head as you made your way over. “baby,” you say, stopping in front of jack with a hand on his chest, causing him to pull you closer by the hip, your chest hugging his as you look up at him.

“they’re-they’re about to do a contest, can you sing with me?” “sing?? like a song?? what do you take me for,” he’s bubbly, almost cocky as he takes in this guys face as jack rubs your ass, holding you close to his body and while you stare at him like he’s the world.

“it’s karaoke! just one song, swear. what’s that?” you point to his drink, “i’ll think about it, n’ I dunno, some sort of candy cane eggnog concoction, try it it’s good,” he brings it up to your mouth and forced you a drink, using his thumb to get the excess off the your mouth and licking it up himself, brows raising when he “remembers” who was standing next to him after hearing him scoff.

“oh! baby, we were just talking about you. this is uhm..what’s your name again?” he points as you look over, but whoever it was just shook his head and walked off, and jack smiled brighter. “who was that? what was that about?” you ask, and jack just shakes his head. “no one, i don’t even know. he was talking about you though, and you came right on time.” he kisses your cheek, “i’ll be back, stay right here, ok?”

he stalks over to the host who he knew well, asking them if they had a room jack could cool off in, telling them “the alcohol isn’t sitting well” and that he “just needed a dark room for a little.” and that wasn’t a lie per say, he did need to cool off, and he did need a dark room for a while.

so he holds your hip as he takes you upstairs, telling you nothing but to follow him. “are you feelin ok?” you ask, worry laced in your voice as he pulls you into the room, locking the door behind himself. “hm? mhm, i’m fine,” he says, flicking on a lamp before grabbing you by the face and smashing his lips onto yours, forcing a yelp out of you before you kiss back.

he was angry, you can feel it. you could feel it in the way he kissed you, in the way his hands ran down your body and pulled you close, his knee budging between your legs, making you gasp in the kiss. “jack,” you breath as he moves to kiss down your neck, and you hold his bicep, “jack-here?” you whimper, your mouth falling open as he bites down on your skin.

“yes,” he pants, and you feel his hard on against your abdomen before he forces your ass on the bed, your hair in his fist and your santa hat long discarded. “here, they’re your fuckin GrOuPiEs anyway.” he taunts, loosening his belt with his free hand. “right? those guys down there are your audience?”

you shake your head as you frown, knowing it’s better to just not speak when he got all mad like this. “yes they fuckin’ are, puttin on a fuckin show for em, had them in my ear about how bad they wanna take you home, how they’d never let you walk out if you were yours. my fucking god,” he sighs, rolling his eyes as he rubs your chin.

“m’sorry, I-i’d never let them-” “I know you wouldn’t baby I know,” he coos, nodding, “you just don’t get it, it’s ok. just do this for me, okay?” you’re already palming him as he stands back up straight, apologetically looking up at him with big eyes, cheeks hot as you feel more and more tipsy.

you’re pulling him out as he caresses the back of your head, his dick hard and hot and oozing with precum, and you smile, realizing he was so turned on because he was jealous. fuck, why did you have to pick such nasty guys? “it’s funny, princess?” he asked you.

“no, you’re just..so cute when you’re jealous.” you smile once more before you’re placing his tip flat on your tongue, circling the top before licking the underside, holding his hip and the base of his cock. “f’course im jealous. you’re the prettiest thing in the world.” he sighs, shoulders sinking and tension fading at the feel of your hot tongue.

“you should’ve heard it baby, they’re fuckin’ animals. s’why you need me, daddys the sweetest guy for you.” he coos, and you feel warm inside. “right? daddys the only one you need?” he asks and you nod, a string of saliva connected from his cock to your lips as you pull off and peer up at him. “uh huh, only you. n’id never chose any of em over you,” you stroking him as you speak, watching his eyes almost roll back as his tongue pokes the inside of his mouth.

“never, never ever,” you continue, your hand raising his sweater and rubbing under his stomach as you began kissing his cock lovingly, precum dripping on your cheek mixed with your own spit. “love you so bad, love your dick so bad,” you whine and he scoffs, shaking his head. “you’re so nasty baby, shit.” he admires. your wet cheeks glisten under the low light and he’s shaking his head, he loved how nasty you are, youre perfect for each other. fucking perverts.

he pulls you back and guides his cock into your mouth quickly, sucking in a breath as you grab onto his small waist and your eyes roll back as your mouth stretches around him. he’s bobbing your head for you and you let him, you loved how he handled you and he loved handling you like you were some..doll. his doll :3

he starts off slow, pushing you deeper onto his cock until he hears you gag, knowing he’s hit the back of your throat. “s’that good baby?” he pants, tapping your cheek and bringing your eyes back on him. you nod as he fucks into your throat faster, your hands grabbing his body and pulling him deeper down your throat which thrust of his hips, gagging with each hit to the back of your throat.

“you want it back there, princess? you want my dick in your throat? right here?” he rasps, hand moving to the back of your neck, forcing himself deeper, making you choke around him, eyes watering. you whine around his cock as you nod weakly, eyes low as you stare up at him through wet lashes.

“fuckin disgusting- I-shit-” he heaves, saliva getting caught in his throat as he goes harder, and he fights a loud groan when you close your lips around his cock and hallow your cheeks, drool and precum pooling around your mouth and dripping onto the bed.

“fuck baby fuuuck,” he whispers, throwing his head back to get the hair off his face. he’s fucking the brain cells outta you, going so hard you’re being pushed back, leaning on your hands with your head thrown back, eyes no longer open, just vibes.

he puts his knee on the bed as his cock throbs in your mouth, his lips parted as he feels himself grow closer and closer, cheeks hot and chest heaving. he shoves you down, both hands on your head as he shoots hot loads into your mouth, his happy trail tickling your nose. he tucks hair behind your ear as he pulls you off, catching his breath as you did too, watching as he puts his still hard cock away.

“was quick, jack.” you joke, panting. “gonna bite my head off about it?” he chuckled breathily, pulling your hat back on and wiping your face straight before pulling you on your feet and kissing you lovingly. “i’ll reward you when we get home, yeah? wanna get the fuck outta here.” he says, and you nod. “mhm, that’s fine. I don’t wanna get too fucked up in this guys house.”

so you guys go back downstairs, retrieving your things and saying your goodbyes, and anyone with a brain could make out as to what you were doing. your lips were beat up, red and swollen, your eyes were still tearing up, red lipstick smeared along jacks dick and your highlighter was long gone from your nose, not to mention jacks cock was poking through the thigh of his pants.

you guys join in on one last group picture (jacks hands holding you possessively) and walk out in hand, “everyone totally knew we did something in that room :(,” you pout, holding his hand that sat on your thigh once you got in the car. “did you see the way they looked at me when I came down? it’s like I had whore written on my forehead.”

“so? it’s good they know how nasty you get for me, you’re my dirty girl,” he rubs your thigh as he gives you a little kiss, but you’re pulling him in for more, holding his cheek. the cars not even on yet, it’s freezing out, but here you are-crawling into the lap of your boyfriend who resides in the drivers seat.

he trails his hand inward, making you lift up on him for more access. you sigh when he kissed down your jaw, his fingers rubbing your soaked pussy. “never wear these fucking underwear again,” he says against your skin, biting into your skin. you could barely call the underwear, they barely covered your asshole let alone entire pussy.

“basically wearing fuckin’ floss. why’re you showin’ out tonight?” he shoved his two fingers in your wet cunt, basically swallowing him in. he’s so bipolar, you can’t even get a word in to plead your case before you’re moaning out at the intrusion, holding his shoulder. he’s quick, digging his fingers into you faster and faster, soft moans flying off your tongue as you fuck your head near his ear.

granted you were outside and no one was coming to their cars any time soon but you still were cautious, knowing just how loud jack could make you, especially since he’s still a little heated. “shouldve bent you over when we were in front of all those guys,” he pants, “shouldve shown them how much of a slut I can really make out of you. how bout that baby?” he nudges you, “fucking the daylights outta you infronna’ all your work boyfriends?”

“I don’t..” you squeak, “don’t have any work boyfriends daddy. hate those guys,” you give him a pouty face to which he smirks at, “you hate em? they bother you all the time?” “mhm, always askin if I can come out for drinks, tryin to butter me up n shit. so annoying.” “aww, you’re just so pretty baby f’course they’re all over you.” he rubs the back of his knuckles along your cheek, “they make you mad?” he asks once more and you nod, “yeah? show me how mad they make you,” he pulls his cock out and slips your underwear to the side, and you feel his hot tip against your hole before his dick is stretching you open, sliding you down on his cock with his hands gripping the fat where your ass and hips met.

you moan high as he bottoms out inside you, gripping his neck as your eyes close, hands shaking as he’s already bouncing you on his length, giving you no time to adjust, although you werent foreign to this, he’s always so needy. “jack!” you gasp a moan, brows coming together as he groans, lip tucked under between his teeth.

“yer’ always so tight mama, whatre those losers gonna do with you if even I can’t handle this pussy, hm?” he slaps your ass, groaning when he feels you clench around him, “fuck baby,” he whispers, taking in the sight of you. your tits are almost hanging out your tiny top, bouncing in his face as he guided your hips on his cock.

you’re whimpering as you look back, your skirts hiked up as you watch him fuck you on his cock, your ass in his hands, shoving you down against him, hitting his thighs harshly. they’re red and there’s a plap plap plap sound everytime you go down tying in with your moans.

and he’s watching from the front, watching his dick disappear inside your wet cunt, soaking his dick completely with each long drag inside you, visibly seeing your pussy clench around him. it his reeling, your tits in his face in your adorable outfit, your face all pouty as you he man handles you, your only say so being the hand you arm wrapped around his shoulders and the hand you have perched against the fogged up car door window.

“baby someone’s gunna see..” you pout, to which he smacks his teeth at. “it’s late at night princess, no one’s coming out at his time. just don’t make a fuckin scene, kay?” he says, gasping when you start to fuck yourself on him now, shoving yourself down on his cock, his hands resting on your body now.

“there we fuckin go mama, you got it,” he praises you, rubbing your hip and tilting his head back to watch you. he knows how you have trouble riding him, so he doesn’t mind that it takes you a while to get started on your own slowly. “m’i doin’ good daddy?” you whimper, tiny moans coming off you as his cock fills you, fuck, he’s just so big. it’s always the weirdo losers.

“of course you are sugar, fuckin’ me all by yourself, being a big girl,” he pants. “gonna let daddy have it, hm? gonna give it to me good?” his hand wraps around your throat and you gasp a moan, nodding eagerly. “gonna fuckin do it,” you whisper. “yeah that’s it baby. give it to me, let daddy have it, that’s it,” his chest heaves as you speed up, fucking your self deeper, his cock spearing you open.

he doesn’t let up on the grip he has on your throat, in fact he squeezes you tighter as you grind on him, looking for that sweet spot. his other hand pulls your tube top completely down to your stomach, your boobs bouncing a little before his big hand grabs one of them, squeezing your nipple between his fingers. “jack fuck!” you cry out at the pain, tear pricking.

“you’re fine, baby, can’t help myself, yknow? fuckin love when you cry like that,” he says before taking squeezing your throat harder, a yelp coming from you as he pulls you closer. “never wearin this again, kay?” he squeezes you again, this time you can barely breath as you continue to fuck your self on his cock.

“this is an inside outfit. can’t have everyone all over you ever again. got it?” he says, and you squeak as you nod, “yes daddy, promise..” you say, and your breath is given back to you once he loosens his tight grip. you grab his biceps as you grind down on him, gasping and moaning loudly when his tip rubs hard against that spongey, sweet spot inside you, feeling like your legs are gonna go out with his bad they’re trembling.

“oh jack! fuck!” you moan, going faster, your hips rutting against his shallowly, and you’re gasping and sputtering for air, moans flying off your tongue. “you’re so good baby, gonna make yourself cum all on your own, hm? didn’t even have to help you, look at that.” he praises you, and his hand moves from your throat to your cheek, caressing you with his thumb.

“you gonna cum?” he coos lovingly, watching your head tip back as you grind harder and slower, drool pooling in your mouth as you feel yourself grow ditzy, a shirt and high “uh huh..” the only thing coming from you.

“that’s it, my sweet girl.” he watches you squeeze your eyes and mouth shit, biting hard on your bottom lip as your nails dig into your nails into his shoulder blades. “nuh uh,” he shakes his head, and before you know it he’s prying your mouth open with his thumb, his thumb pressing the inside of your cheek and forcing your tongue aside, “let it out for me baby, you’re making yourself feel so good, right?” he rubs your aching, trembling thighs. “let me hear it, lemme know how good it is pretty girl.”

and with that, you feel yourself come undone, loud shaky moans flying out of you, filling his now hot car as you make a mess on his cock, cum pooling under you two, his lap drenched along with the back of your thighs and ass. “so fuckin messy, let em know how you feel mama,” he’s watching you drool all over yourself, eyes steady on him. it’s getting on his hands, sleeves, his sweater and your little skirt. you’re killing him.

you’re grinding slowly, barely moving as you try n come down. his hand moves to the back of your head as his other arm wraps around your hips, pulling you closer and starting you back up-moving you up his cock like some sort of fleshlight, your boobs perched again his chest and your noses ghosting each others.

you’re still shaking, and now he’s overstimulating you, “jack, I-I can’t—gasp—jack!!” you moan out into his mouth, and he’s taking it in, feeling his release creep up closer on him hard, he already knows as he watched your face. “just a little more baby, m’almost there,,” he pants, his eyes hard on yours.

his cock is throbbing inside you as you squeeze onto him, it has him groaning as his eyes roll back to his head. he feels his orgasm run over his body as he wraps both arms around you, using his body to shove you on his cock, moaning into your breast, his face hot. “fuck that’s it baby, don’t fuckin’ stop,” he groans, and his mouth hangs open as he stammers, shooting hot ropes of cum into your cunt, holding you close.

it’s flooding, popping out of you, making you shiver. “you’re so good baby,” he emerges from your breasts, panting as he shakily moves hair out of your face. he rubes your cheeks as you smile ditzily, “sweet thing, sweetest girl in the world.” hes kissing your cheeks softly before he plagued your whole face, still whispering praises. “my good girl, love you so so much.” he says and gives you a small kiss to the lips, rubbing your back.

he allows you to lay your head on his shoulder as he fixed your outfit, pulling your shirt back on correctly. “you gonna stay like this while I drive?” he asks as he wipes down the window and turned on the car, receiving a small nod from you. “sleepy girl, just sit tight,” he coos, kissing the top of your head, and you drift asleep, his cum and cock still inside you as he pulls off.

merry christmas i’m sooooo sorry this is so late :( my christmas has been mighty stressful. I hope everyone else is doing so good!! mwah mwah mwah mwah!!

tl: @vanlisbon @sugarinte @monkeyfart @444rockstargf @bambi-horror @auggiethecreator @wonkinoo @auryyz @brithedemonspawn

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #x black reader #jack goes home #jack goes home smut #jack thurlow smut #jack thurlow #christmas smut #jack thurlow prompt

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stevie-petey · 1 month

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HIHIHIHII can i please request a blurb where bug jon steve and nancy have a sleepover or having fun together? and maybe the kids can be included?

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND UR WORK UGH MAKES ME WANNA CRY 😭🎀

of course ! n thank you for the compliment omg

enjoy <3

"dude, what if jonathan had become your brother or something?" mike asks dustin with disgust in his voice as he watches you and jonathan help arrange the picnic blanket. nancy helps steve with the platters of food you had so carefully prepared. it's the first day of spring and youd been adamant that you, all the teens, and the party have a small picnic in the park to get some fresh air.

"dude!" dustin hits his shoulder, entirely unamused. "dont remind me about that, it was a close call."

"at least he isnt dating your sister now." mike groans.

max slides next to him on the park bench. "who is dating who again?"

"nancy is with jonathan and y/n has some weird thing with steve going on." lucas explains, but even he doesnt quite understand a lot of it still, and he frowns. "although, for a while there we thought jonathan and y/n would get married while nancy was with steve."

"they were not going to get married." dustin shrieks, absolutely horrified by that idea.

"im confused." now max is the one that frowns. "so jonathan and y/n werent dating?"

"yes." dustin and mike say, while lucas and will say, "no."

"that wasnt an answer." el points out, slightly confused yet content to listen to the conversation.

maxs frown deepens, now completely confused about the relationships between all the teens. "none of you are helping."

suddenly you appear, steve following close behind, and you flick dustins ear. "if you guys are done gossiping about our love lives, im about to lay the cake out."

"ow!" your brother rubs his now sore ear. "whyd you flick me?"

"you were the closest." you shrug at him before glancing at max. "and to answer your question: no, i never dated jonathan."

"allegedly," steve whispers, winking at the kids, which causes them to laugh. when you turn to glare at him, he quickly shuts his mouth and gulps. "sorry?"

you roll your eyes at him and point towards the cake still in his car. "grab the dessert before i throw something at you."

"yes maam," he sighs, ducking his head down as he hurries over to the car to retrieve the cake.

the kids laugh again, this time at steves expense, and nancy and jonathan now join. when notice the laughter, nancy looks around and tries to understand what shes missed. "did something happen?"

dustin opens his mouth, but you quickly cover it in fear of what he may say. "nope, nothing. now, lets all just grab our food-"

a scream, followed by a thud of two bodies colliding, interrupts you.

everyone turns towards the source of the sound and find steve and jonathan, covered in cake, sprawled on the ground.

immediately the kids lose their minds laughing, dustin practically falls off of the bench as he hunches over in laughter. meanwhile, you and nancy rush over to the teens in concern yet slight amusement.

you stand over steve and jonathan, a smirk on your face. they look so fucking pathetic covered in cake. "now, boys. what did your mothers say about playing with your food?"

"not funny," jonathan grumbles, wiping cream out of his eyes before angrily pointing at steve. "someone decided to trip over a tree branch and take the other down with him."

"was it you?" nancy asks innocently, a glint in her eyes. you giggle at her quip while jonathan closes his eyes and sighs.

steve gives everyone a thumbs up, though its hard to tell due to his finger covered in a thick layer of cake. he sees this, thinks for a moment, and then brings his thumb to his mouth. "mmm, not bad, y/n. this a new recipe?"

you and nancy groan in unison while the kids all look at one another in varying states of disbelief. mike looks disappointed, dustin is ashamed, el is still giggling, and lucas just puts his face in his hands.

"seriously, im expected to believe that y/n saw something in those two?" max says out loud to no one in particular.

"nancy, too." mike sighs, now even more disappointed.

dustin drops his head down onto the picnic table and sighs as well. "i dont wanna talk about it."

#ask #anon #m speaks #come home blurb #m’s writing #set in between seasons 2 and 3 !#steve n jon vs a cake: failed

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chickenpizza420 · 10 months

Note

AAA YOUR YANDERE JOHN HCS-??? CAN — can you ple a se do some with him in the afterglow of sex that the reader thought had no strings attached after a office party and him wanting to make breakfast for reader, then also the aftermath with his behaviour at work for the next week or so? Like hcs and bullet points of ur ideas plspslsp I love the way you write him he comes off exactly as he should in it

TW: slight noncon, unwanted groping, stalking, s*xual harassment. NS//FW

You’re hot for requesting this

You drunkenly hit on Jonathan at the office party when no one was looking. Your beer goggles made you notice him. You noticed yourself being attracted to his height and face. You initiated everything and preferred going to your place.

Jonathan definitely wakes up long before you do. He watches your sleeping form and cuddles with your unconscious body. He definitely kisses and smells your body, even the strange places like your neck and armpits.

He definitely takes pictures of you in your sleep with his phone and poses with your body. A lot of the pictures came out shaken or blurry, mostly because he was scared to wake you up and didn’t want you getting mad at him, but also because he was so excited something like this was happening to him for the first time.

You wake up to him practically snorting your hair with his arms wrapped tightly around him.

This makes your heart race rapidly. He seriously creeps you out right now, more than usual.

He sits up, still naked, and asks if you can make breakfast together.

You politely decline and lie, saying you have nothing in your house. You want him out as soon as possible.

He’s very persistent and you compromise by going out with him to get a quick bite at the corner store.

He takes this as another date and is convinced you’re interested in him.

Over the next week he goes insane blowing up your phone. You can’t block him because of the work group chat and you guys are working together closely on something. What luck right?

He sends you anything, memes, random pictures, lots of “how are you doing :)” and “I had a great time that night 👍🏻. We should meet outside of work again :)” he definitely uses emojis and emoticons.

He calls you at least 10 times a day AND leaves voicemails.

At work you avoid him as much as you can but he always makes his way towards you.

When you two are alone he will always get uncomfortably close to you and always touches you, mostly your: thighs, upper arms, he will even put his hands up your skirt, dress, or blouse.

You will angrily demand for him to stop but he’ll always say the same thing "I... I can't help it” or “But I thought you liked this?” And keep going.

When you two are in the same room with people around he tries to stay sitting down at a desk with something covering his lap. The slightest thing you do will get him hard.

He quickly realizes you will do what he wants if he holds your position over your head. He’s more important than you at this job and he knows it.

He becomes extremely manipulative and possessive over you and hates when you talk to any male colleagues. He will hug you tightly as soon as you two are alone and bury his face in your neck. “You’re mine…” He doesn’t scare you. His mannerisms actually remind you of a jealous little kid.

His power over you gives him confidence and he quickly becomes comfortable and less awkward with you around.

#jonathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn #the spot x reader #yandere the spot #jonathan ohnn x reader #johnathan ohnn x reader #tw yandere #the spot #my post

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eiightysixbaby · 3 months

Note

being friends with modern!college!jonathan and kissing a few times when ur smoking pot in his dorm 😮‍💨

congratulations you inspired me to write a blurb. 😩

cw: just kissing, lol

“Do you think that sounds good?” you ask, running your hands through your hair after reciting the final paragraph to your paper.

You look up, watching the smoke seep from his mouth as he stares at you. “Are you even listening?” you prod.

“I’m listening, I swear,” he says but his boyish smirk gives him away.

“No, you’re not,” you make a sound that’s half-laugh half-groan, slapping him on the arm with the rolled up packet that was the guidelines for your essay.

You steal the joint from between his nimble fingers, taking a puff from it and exhaling heavily. You lean back against the wall, stretching out your legs on his bed.

“I can literally feel you staring at me,” you say to him, glancing in his direction from the corner of your eye. You set the joint on the ashtray that resides on his bedside table, feeling warm under your friend’s gaze.

You don’t mind the attention, really. Because you steal glances at him any chance you get. But he’s not even trying to hide it.

He huffs a laugh, cheeks flushing pink. You know he’s feeling his high; he always gets giggly when he’s high.

“It’s just kinda hard not to look at you sometimes,” he says, his eyes moving from you to his hands in his lap. “You’re just really pretty.” His voice comes out quieter than you’ve ever heard with that statement, your eyes widening a bit as you fully process what he said.

“What?” you ask, shoving your laptop away from you. Did you hear him correctly?

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he backpedals nervously. “I’m sorry, you’re my friend, I—”

His nervous rambling is cut off when your lips press to his mouth, bracing yourself with one hand on his knee. It’s short, just enough to steal the words from his throat before you’re drawing back. Your face remains inches from his, his soft eyes searching yours. His gaze repeatedly dips down to your lips as his tongue darts out to wet his own.

Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s just him, but you feel like your skin is vibrating as you await his next move. He leans in slowly, carefully, pressing his lips against yours and letting you melt into it. One of his hands reaches up to cradle the back of your head, and he sighs into your mouth as the kiss deepens.

He pulls back before it can get too heavy, resting his forehead against yours as he catches his breath. “Your paper sounded fine, by the way. You’ll ace it,” he says, breathy as his lips twist into a smirk.

“Good. Cause I don’t feel like doing schoolwork anymore,” you say, pulling him by the collar of his shirt back into you.

He doesn’t complain when you shove his notebook on the floor to lay back, and he definitely doesn’t complain when you encourage him on top of you, kissing him like you need it to survive.

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers blurb #jonathan byers fluff #jonathan byers smut #leah’s got mail 💌

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longlivefanfic-net · 2 years

Text

I Wanna Dance With Somebody

Summary: Your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, has a party at your shared apartment and invites his ex, Nancy Wheeler. You get jealous and do your best to make Steve jealous too. Steve Harrington x reader

Content/Warnings: Marijuana use, drinking, also some light Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: This fic does include mention of Steve, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Dustin, and Argyle. The Duffer brothers may murder whomstsoever they wish on Friday but in my head they are all real and alive thanks! Also: this is just fluff. I wrote too much and had to break it up into two sections, so this can be a standalone fluff or you can wait a day for the next part (or read the first two parts) for some smut. PS if u want to tell me Steve wouldnt smoke weed, first of all its implied that he does in S3 and second of all argue with the wall babe this is my world ur just livin in it

When you first started dating Steve Harrington, you had no idea you would end up like this. You knew it would be different than your usual relationships, sure–you weren’t the type to date jocks or prom kings. You just hadn’t expected Steve to be so…normal once you got to know him. He had won you over with his charming smiles and goofy laugh (and the fact that you had nursed a sweet spot for him ever since he stopped in an empty hallway to help you pick up your books after your backpack ripped the first day of Freshman year didn’t hurt either), but the more you got to know him the more you saw past that layer of Harrington-ness that he would so expertly apply before going out into the world. Although, maybe it wasn’t so much that you could see past it as it was that he had started to relax, to lower that protective shield around you, the shield of charm and polite interest that made him the ideal boyfriend to bring home.

The more time you spent around Steve’s friends, the more sure you felt you finally knew the real Steve. You saw the dorky references he would make when he picked Dustin up and brought him over for Atari marathons, and you also saw the care on his face while he contemplated whether Dustin had had “more of a Doritos week or a Lays potato chips week.” When he spent time with Jonathan and Eddie, he came home smelling of weed with at least two new cassettes with songs he wanted to show you; the first time he came home reeking, you had basically developed a contact high because you were just so excited to see Steve stoned. On the nights Robin came over to your shared apartment, Steve would bring out clean blankets and extra pillows to strew across the couch, making it look as if they were always there, so she wouldn’t have to ask for them before making herself cozy on the floor to watch whatever VHS she or Steve had picked out. He would then spend the rest of the night bullying her for sitting “like a weirdo,” cross-legged alone on the floor and complain about having to reach down to her every time he wanted food (Steve, famously, was not allowed to hold the snack bowl anymore after Robin had pinched his leg during Nightmare on Elm Street) (Steve objected to this rule, saying that the only fair decision would be to outlaw Robin’s scare tactics). With you, Steve was quiet and gentle, and, in his sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes first thing in the morning, you saw how sensitive and delicate he was. That’s how you fell in love with him: seeing these different pieces of him come together into one man. He was beautiful, funny, charming Steve Harrington; he was also nerdy, soft, caring, “just Steve.”

That’s why you didn’t hesitate to say yes anytime he asked about inviting his friends over. You loved seeing Steve with his friends–and you had become pretty close with most of them as well, although you had caught Dustin asking Steve if he was “allowed to start getting attached” to you the first time you had said you would stay the night before Steve drove him home (you still didn’t know the answer, but the kid had grown on you so you hoped it was a yes). When Steve mentioned having “the guys” over this weekend to check the crackling noises the stereo had started making, you had assumed it would be Jonathan and Eddie. Then, at the grocery store, Steve had thrown two packs of M&M’s and Nerds into the shopping cart, a sure sign Robin would be over at some point. You had started to question what, exactly, you had agreed to when he put four twelve packs of beer into the cart–Steve, Eddie, and Jonathan could finish off a twelve pack, sure, but four? That seemed excessive. It wasn’t until you watched him grab a bottle of white zinfandel and two packs of wine coolers that you really started to grow suspicious of what you had gotten yourself into.

But Steve had taken care of everything–as he so often did, always loading the dishwasher and wiping down the bathroom counter before bed–and so you decided to let him go on with whatever he had planned. If you were going to see Byers and Munson get shit-faced on wine coolers this weekend, that was fine by you. When the two of you had gone to bed last night, you had turned on your side and curled against him, wrapping one arm over his broad chest and scratching your nails back and forth over his rib cage. “Baby,” you had asked, “Who’s coming over tomorrow?” “Just the guys and some dudes from work,” he said, fingers lightly pulling through your hair. “And the guys drink white wine and wine coolers now?” You had asked, tone light while your eyebrows scrunched together out of his line of sight. “Well, the girls will, yeah, I think,” Steve spluttered, “Or do girls not drink that stuff?” “Depends on the girl.” There had been a moment of silence as you listened to his heartbeat under his skin. “Steve. What girls are coming to our home?” You had sighed, mildly exasperated that you had to break this down for him. “Oh! Robin, duh, a few girls from work, and Nance,” he laughed. “Is that what you’re mad about? You didn’t know who was coming over?” “I wasn’t mad,” you said, instantly flushing at how easily he had seen through your fake cool. “It’s just a few people,” Steve had said, fingers dancing along the taut skin of your neck. You murmured something that you hoped sounded casual and buried your face in the warm skin of his side, hoping to bury your concerns about Nancy with it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Nancy. Back in high school, you had wanted to be her–picture perfect, straight A’s, Head Editor of the newspaper, and when she suddenly ditched Steve (back when he was “King Steve”), she had shown up somehow looking older, more mature than all the rest of you. But you couldn’t let go of her past with Steve, as ridiculous as it was. She had been his first love. He still kept one of her bras in a shoe box, for God’s sake–admittedly, it wasn’t because of Nancy, as he had explained to you, but it still made you feel a little sensitive. If Nancy was going to be there tonight, you were going to spend the entire evening trying to prove yourself to her, to Steve, that you weren’t just the girl he was with but the girl he was supposed to be with.

Battle armor, you thought, staring into the closet you and Steve shared. Your clean work uniforms were hung up beside jeans, t-shirts (many stolen from Steve), and a few blouses your mom had bought you to wear to your classes at the community college. You also had a few dresses tucked away in the back–mostly things you hadn’t worn since high school, things you weren’t even sure would fit you any more. What would Nancy wear? You thought, chewing on your bottom lip. Except that’s not right, is it? You need to prove that you’re not Nancy, not that you can be her. When the black pleats caught your eye, you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over your face. Pulling the skirt from the back of the closet, you held it up against your body. It seemed like it would still fit, and the length came down just above your knees to show slightly more skin than Wheeler ever would. Flipping through the blouses your mom naively dreamed of you looking professional in, you grabbed a cropped black button down with a wide collar from where it was hidden between fluorescent tops. This–this would work.

Emerging from the bedroom an hour later, you fidget nervously with your nails. You had painted them dark red as soon as you had picked your outfit, blowing on them to dry the shiny liquid before it could smudge. Steve had his back turned to you, digging in the refrigerator and making the glass bottles inside clink. “Hey babe,” he called loudly without turning around, “do you think I should go buy more ice? Will anyone want ice in their drinks?” “Yeah, probably,” you answered casually from behind him. Starting, Steve stood up hurriedly and whipped around. “Fuck,” he exclaimed, hand over his heart. “I didn’t realize you–whoa.” Steve’s eyes scanned down, then back up, then back down your body. “What’s with the outfit?” “You don’t like it?” You asked, tugging anxiously at the hemline of the skirt. You had paired the crop top and skirt with a pair of black shoes with a short heel, and you had finished the outfit with the chain necklaces Robin had given you and hoop earrings. The cherry on top, so to speak, was the red lipstick that perfectly matched the dark red satin of your nails. “Who the fuck said that?” Steve asked, eyes widening. “You look incredible.” You felt a light blush pulse its way into your cheeks and Steve fixed on the color as it spread. “You look good, too,” you said, returning the compliment.

He was wearing the maroon sweater you had given him for Christmas last year, along with a pair of jeans that seemed almost too tight to be comfortable. You couldn’t help but notice that his bulge seemed tightly pressed against his pants, and you hoped he hadn’t chosen this pair of denim for anyone in particular tonight. “Hey,” Steve said, making your eyes meet his. The soft brown flickered for a moment, alight with wickedness. “What are you wearing under that outfit?” He asked, voice soft. You almost rolled your eyes–he was so predictable sometimes. When you had seen the outfit in the mirror, seen the slit of skin between the bottom of the shirt and the top of the skirt, you had known he would immediately begin thinking about getting you out of your clothes. You had changed from your everyday cotton briefs into something more…adventurous for this exact reason. A tiny smile hinted at the edge of your mouth. “How about,” you said, voice smoky, “you spend the rest of the night trying to find out? Without getting caught by your friends?” Steve’s eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. “Really? We’re going to play games tonight?” He seemed incredulous, leaving you with only one possible response: “I’m going to play a game tonight. You’re going to try to play it with me.”

Jonathan had shown up first with Argyle, gently knocking on the frame of your open front door. “Nancy will be here later,” he had said quietly, gently nodding his head in greeting. He, Argyle, and Steve had gathered around the stereo system, making the occasional grunt as they spoke quietly about the crackling sounds coming out of the speakers. Steve clapped his hands enthusiastically, patting Jonathan on the back over-zealously, when he pressed play and crystal-clean sound came through. Eddie and Robin showed up at the same time, though Robin’s first words as she walked through the door were “We did not come together, just at the same time,” which made Eddie snort and shoot you conspiratorial looks. “Oh, gross, Munson,” Robin growled. “I brought beer and tunes,” Eddie said, holding up a six pack and a cassette. “Eddie, we’re not listening to your music at my apartment,” Steve said, “I don’t want my neighbors to think we’re sacrificing virgins in here.” “Who said anything about virgins?” Eddie joked, elbow tickling your ribs as he passed you on his way into the kitchen. You followed behind him to put the six pack he had brought into the fridge.

“Here,” you said, handing Eddie a bottle out of the ice-and-drink-filled sink, “a cold one for you.” You jumped up to sit on top of the kitchen counter, pulling from a brown bottle yourself. Jonathan flipped through the mishmash collection of vinyls next to the stereo while Robin and Steve joked about something stupid one of their coworkers had said that day. “Who’s is this?” Jonathan asked, holding up a bright pink album adorned with the image of Dolly Parton. You giggled, and Steve held up his hands, shooting daggers at you. “I plead the fifth,” he said, mock seriousness in his voice. Jonathan laughed, hard and loud, before pulling a random cassette out of the box next to the stereo system. He loaded it into the cassette player, pressing play, and quiet music began to fill the apartment, floating out the open doorway to invite your neighbors by. Eddie reached behind you, long arms brushing against yours, as he pushed the window over the sink open part way before clambering clumsily up onto the counter next to you. He reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulling out a preroll and a lighter, and lit up.

“So,” Eddie asked, turning his head towards the open window as he blew out a stream of smoke. “How’s life with the babysitter?” You tilt your head back to laugh, your grin stretching your face. “It’s good,” you answer, cocking your head to the side as you look at Eddie. “Living with a boy isn’t quite as disgusting as I thought it would be.” “Oh yeah?” Eddie questions, a look of pure delight crinkling the corner of his eyes. “Does Harrington clean every weekend? Maybe in a little maids uniform for you?” You splutter around the mouth of the beer bottle, choking on the cool malt beer at how close Eddie has come to guessing the truth. Steve doesn’t wear a maid’s outfit–not that you’d be opposed to seeing him in one, you think, making a mental note–but he does wear silk. And lace. And satin. Basically, if it’s women’s underwear in his size, Steve will wear it at least once for you. He’s gotten picky now, rejecting a few pieces here and there for being uncomfortable, but he wears everything you pick out together for at least one night.

“Relax,” Eddie crows, slapping you on the back as you recover from the shot of malt up your nose, “I was kidding! Unless he does have a maid’s outfit, in which case I’ve got to see it.” You laugh as you regain your breath. “No, no maid’s outfits,” you giggle as Eddie pulls an over-the-top pout. He takes another pull from the joint in his fingers, holding it out to you. You take it from him, pulling the smoke down into your lungs where you hold it for a minute before turning to release it out the window. Munson looks borderline impressed, but he stops you when you go to take a second hit: “Strong shit. Maybe go slow for a minute,” he says, plucking the joint out of your fingers. “So,” you ask, forcing your tone to be light, “What has Steve said about living with me?” “Oh, he’s a big fan,” Eddie laughs. “Really?” You can’t help the slight blush that burns your face, and you hope the combination of makeup and low light will keep Eddie from seeing it. “Absolutely,” he says, “Every time I see him now, it’s ‘Did you know girls wash their towels’ and ‘Girls actually wash the sheets on their bed even when someone’s not coming over.’” “Ewwww,” you groan, shoving Munson’s shoulder, “That’s not true! Steve didn’t have to learn to wash his towels from me.” “Alright, maybe he was just trying to pass on some friendly advice,” Eddie laughs, rolling his eyes.

Eddie leans towards you conspiratorially, placing his hand on your knee to steady him before he falls off the countertop. “Actually,” he half-whispers, “Steve’s made it pretty damn clear how he feels about you to me, Jonathan, and Argyle. We’re talking an Aragorn and Arwen level of crazy about you.” Your cheeks burn again, and you smile gently at Eddie, taking the joint he extends to you with a nod of approval. “Did Steve make that Lord of the Rings reference or did you have to teach it to him?” “The guy’s not dumb–maybe a little distracted, but not dumb.” You laugh again, smoke blowing out and lean closer to Eddie’s face, eyebrows raised. “Okay, okay,” Eddie laughs. “Maybe Steve would say it’s a Han and Leia type thing.” You start to lean back, laughing again. The friendship between Steve, Eddie, Argyle, and Jonathan never fails to surprise you; you wouldn’t have guessed Munson was a Tolkien fan, and his ability to recognize that Steve would prefer a Star Wars reference warms your heart. Suddenly, you’ve leaned too far–you almost lose your balance when Eddie reaches out, putting a hand on your waist to pull you closer to him and steady your balance. “You okay there?” He asks, eyebrows in his hairline and half a smile on his face. “I told you it was strong shit, didn’t I?” You blink slowly, the mixture of your second beer and Eddie’s weed making your brain feel smooth and slow. Eddie pulls his hand back from your waist, and you notice a familiar ring amidst the others on his fingers. “Hey!” You say, grabbing his hand with your own. “Steve has this same ring!” “Yeah,” Eddie says, “I got us guys all the same one last year. Brotherhood, blah blah blah,” he says, turning crimson. You peer up into his face, lips pressed together into a smile. “That’s actually very sweet, Eddie,” you say, placing his hand on your knee where you pat it gently.

“Hey!” A voice jars across the kitchen. “What the fuck, Munson?” You turn your head slowly to see Steve standing in the kitchen, an empty beer bottle in his hand. Eddie barely even moves. “Calm down, Harrington,” he says, turning to him. “We were just sharing a joint and, you know, some feelings.” Steve’s face scrunches up in incredulous confusion. “You don’t have feelings,” he says, minutely shaking his head. “I know,” Eddie says, tapping the end of his nose, “We were talking about yours.” “Oh, fuck that,” Steve says. “Come on.” He pushes Eddie’s hand off your knee and grabs your hand, pulling you down off the counter where you sway slightly on your feet. Steve pulls another beer out of the ice pile in the sink and then turns, pulling you behind him to the living room. “Here. Sit,” he says, gently pushing your shoulders so you sit down on the couch. “Keep Robin entertained or something, you lightweight.” He’s joking, the little glint in his eye telling you how entertained he is by your inability to hold your substances, but the line of his mouth is hard. “Anything for you, my baby,” you say, doing your best to look like a soft, delicate version of yourself. “You need water,” Steve says, half laughing at your attempt to be fragile and disappearing from your line of vision.

Robin is on the floor next to your legs, her usual place of honor, making quiet remarks about each person who comes through the doorway. “Oh, who the hell invited Tommy?” She mutters under her breath. Suddenly, a slender, petite frame appears in the doorway. “Wheeler!” Robin cries, jumping up a bit too quickly for you to track with your eyes. She darts to the door, throwing her arms around Nancy’s neck. Nancy hugs her back, tightly, and pulls back, smiling. “Buckley,” she says with affection. She drops her hands from Robin’s neck to her waist. “So,” she says, casting her eyes around the room. “This is Harrington’s infamous love den?” Her eyes alight on you, laying a bit too comfortably on the couch. You straighten up, trying to look more prim and proper than usual under Nancy’s eyes. Steve rounds the corner, glass of water and a napkin full of pretzels in hand. “Here you go, my lady love,” he says, simultaneously sarcastic and simpering, as he lowers himself to your height, placing the glass in your hands and the pretzels on the end table next to you. “Steve!” Nancy cries from the doorway. “Hey, Nance!” Steve crows. “My girl!” He moves swiftly to her side, pulling her out from under Robin’s hands to wrap her in a tight embrace. You try not to notice the sinking in your heart at the idea that anyone other than you might be “Steve’s girl.”

People are milling around, creating small clumps of conversation throughout the apartment. Steve brought Nancy and Robin both back to the couch with him, where he sat in between you and Nancy while Robin took her spot on the floor, leaning up against Nancy’s legs. Jonathan, Argyle, and Eddie had eventually made their way over to your small group, all three reeking of Eddie’s weed, and crowded close. Eddie was on the floor, leaning his back against the coffee table so he could watch the conversation; Argyle had sprawled out next to him, long legs blocking the space from anyone else’s attempts to come closer; Jonathan had pulled one of the chairs out of the kitchen to straddle backwards, beer bottle tapping lightly against the back of it in time to the music playing. The conversation had been flowing pretty smoothly without much help from you so far, but as it lulled you felt peace in the quiet. Good friends, you thought to yourself, although, at least half of these people have fucked. You snort quietly at the thought, and Steve turns to you. “More water, baby?” He looks at your mostly-empty glass and grabs it, standing up. You tilt your head up to look at him. “I’ll be right back,” he says before disappearing back into the kitchen. You can hear him greeting other friends who have showed up, the sound of back slaps and light laughter following him.

“Who would have guessed Harrington was such a softie?” Eddie asked. Robin laughs. “He’s not a softie, he’s pussy-whipped,” she says, reaching over to pinch your legs. You blush a little, but this has become Robin’s favorite joke and you don’t pay it much mind. A quiet scoff makes you turn to Nancy. “Something to share with the group, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, a look of delight on his face. She blushes, and you hate that the crimson only makes her look prettier. “No!” She says, motions jerky as she recoils. “It’s just, well, Steve has always been a sweetheart.” Jonathan’s eye roll can be physically felt, and Nancy hurries to say “When he’s screwed up.” Robin cocks her head at Nancy. “I mean,” she says, starting to gesture with her petite hands, “He was a great boyfriend when we dated. But he was his best when he had pissed me off and was trying to get back on my good side. He’d bring flowers, help me study, whatever I wanted, if he thought he would get back into my good graces.” “And,” Argyle’s voice looms up from his position on the floor, “is Harrington out of your good graces?” He rolls his head to the side to look at you, and everyone else turns to look at you too. “No,” you say. “Definitely not.” You shake your head lightly and then giggle quietly at the sensation of your eyes shifting. “See,” says Argyle patiently, “She’s just wasted. Steve is taking care of her, like a true gentleman.” The sound of his voice makes it clear that Argyle approves of Steve’s actions–but the moment is ruined when Jonathan starts to laugh and everyone follows, including you.

“What’s the joke?” Steve asks, returning with your water and more snacks. “You are,” Robin says, grinning at him from the floor. Steve groans, as he puts your water down and sits down next to you again. He swings his arm over your shoulders, casually, and you try not to pay attention as his warm fingertips begin to sweep, slowly, back and forth over the cool skin of your exposed arms. “Why am I the joke this time? Robin,” he says, eyes steely, “I did not have rabies, for the last time–” Steve is cut off by her laugh. He looks around in confusion. “We were talking about how particularly gentlemanly you’re being tonight,” Jonathan says, answering his searching look. “Oh,” Steve says. “Why is that funny?” “Well,” Robin says breathlessly, “Nance said that you’re only nice when you mess up, but she–” Robin points to you “ –said you didn’t do anything wrong, and then Argyle decided you’re a gentleman, but I mean, Argyle is never not high so it’s just hard to take him seriously, you know–” Robin is cut off by Steve’s shocked look. “I didn’t ‘mess up’ –I think,” he says, glancing back at you, and you nod empathetically. “I just love my girlfriend.”

There’s a moment’s pause. Steve had never said this to you before–months of dating, living together for most of them, and he’s exposed even his most delicate and sensitive secrets to you, but he never said he loved you. You’ve known you loved him since about your second week of dating, but you’ve kept it to yourself; you’re not the type to say it first, even though you feel it, because you can’t handle the possibility of a stilted, awkward conversation instead of reciprocation. Before you can say anything back, Argyle’s voice comes from the floor again. “See? Gentleman shit,” and everyone dissolves into a fit of laughter again. You lean forward amidst your giggles, wrapping your hand around the nape of Steve’s neck, and press a soft kiss to his shoulder, holding his eyes with your own. Suddenly, the music changes and Robin screeches.

“Oh, my God!” She yowls, jumping to her feet. “It’s our song!” She grabs Nancy’s hand, pulling her by the wrist to standing and pulls her out to the middle of the living room that has been avoided by all the other clumps of people. “Poor old Johnnie Ray,” Robin croons, grabbing Eddie’s hand and pulling him to standing despite his grumblings. She pushes him to the center of the room, turning back for Jonathan and Argyle, who is already wiggling his hips casually. “That’s the spirit,” Robin says, pointing to Argyle. She comes back for you and Steve now. “No one’s sitting this out,” she orders, pulling you to your feet. You’re much steadier than you were earlier, and the rush of blood to your legs provides you with more clarity. “Come on Eileen,” you sing, slightly behind Dexy’s Midnight Runners on the tape, as you turn and hold your hand out for Steve expectantly. The rest of your group has started dancing, Robin trying to force Jonathan to loosen up, Eddie shuffling his feet with Argyle, and Nancy, eyes closed, in a world of her own. Steve takes your hand, his rough palm sliding against yours, and stands up. You lead him to the impromptu dance floor, and he presses his broad chest and stomach against your back, wrapping his fingers around your hips as you sway. Other guests have started to join the dance as well, and Robin takes Nancy’s hands in hers as Tommy reaches out for her. You can feel Steve’s breath as he leans his head on your shoulder, the warm puffs blowing your free-floating strands of hair. Together, the two of you watch your friends drop the hardnesses they have wrapped around themselves, around their hearts, and simply laugh and dance together. Robin brings Eddie into her and Nancy’s dance circle, and he drags Jonathan with him. Argyle joins in quickly too, and you watch the four of them let go of whatever hurt and sadness they have carried with them and melt into radiance, into joy.

The song switches over to rhythmic clapping as Whitney Houston “Whoos!” into the laughter and scattered voices in your apartment. Eddie and Jonathan beg out quickly, saying they’ve done their required dancing for Robin, but Argyle, Nancy, and Robin continue to dance among other people. “Hey,” Steve says, turning you around to face him. “Want to dance with me?” “Obviously,” you say. He wraps his arms around you, bringing your hips to press against his. “Steve,” you laugh, “this isn’t exactly a slow dance song.” “Whitney asked if we want to dance, and this is how I want to dance,” he replies, shaking his head at you like it’s obvious. You slide your hands up around his neck, interlocking your fingers at the base of his spine, and he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. Steve closes his eyes and sighs quietly, contently. You keep your eyes open, watching the soft glow of the lights in the room sway and dance over his sweater, catching in his hair, looming around his form so he looks like a painting of a fairy tale character, a brave hunter come to rescue the woman who’s been locked in a tower, alone for too long. He did save me, you think, the thought cutting through the rest of brain fog sharply, he rescued me from myself. Your fingers tighten slightly, digging your nails into his neck, and his eyes pop open.

“You okay?” Steve asks. “Yeah,” you say, “Fine.” He looks searchingly at you for another second. “If it’s about earlier—what I said—it’s not like you have to say it back or anything. I didn’t say I love you to make you say it too; I said it because, well, I love you. That’s all.” He’s not looking at you now, eyes on the floor as his hips continue to sway pressed against yours. Something about this feels so middle school, so simple and innocent and exciting, that you feel bubbles bounce against your heart as you reply, “Okay.” He looks up at you, a small smile on his lips. “Okay,” he says, nodding his head in relief. “I do love you, though,” you say, completely casually. You’re not nervous to tell him this; it feels like answering the question “what’s your birthdate?” or “where did you grow up?” You don’t have to think about it at all. It just is the answer, simple and true. You love Steve Harrington, and, apparently, he loves you too. “You, um, you what?” He asks, blinking at you quickly. “I love you,” you say, head mocking his own surprised shake. “You’re stoned,” Steve says, eyebrows raised. “A little,” you answer, “but that’s not why I love you.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve says, a glimmer in his eyes. He leans in close to you, lips brushing your ear as he whispers “and why do you love me, baby girl?” One of your hands traces down his shoulder to his chest, pushing him lightly back so you can look in his eyes. “Because you’re kind. And you’re funny. And you think about others all the time, but you still tell me what you need so I can take care of you. And you ask to take a walk with me when I really piss you off and we just walk in silence. Also, you make me coffee every morning and you remembered exactly what I like in my coffee after the first night I spent here. And, you know, you’re actually kind of smart, Harrington, because you’ve chosen some really great people to surround yourself with.” Steve stares at you, unblinking, and you notice that his eyes have started to water gently. He cradles your face in his palm, tilting his head slightly to the side. “I haven’t found a single reason not to love you, Steve, so why wouldn’t I?” At these words, Steve leans down, brushing his lips gently over yours. “Thank you,” he murmurs over your skin. “I love you.”

The song is still playing and the two of you continue to sway, revolving in the center of the room amidst your friends. You press your face to the side of Steve’s neck, breathing in his scent. “Steve?” “Yes, baby?” “Why do you love me?” He scoffs, the quick flex of his diaphragm echoing through your body. “I don’t have to outdo what you said, right?” He asks. “No,” you laugh. “Just say whatever you think.” “Okay, I love you because you made friends with my friends and you bought me panties to wear with you. And also you don’t think I’m Steve Harrington in the way other people do but you know me better than anyone else in the world. Also, you’re…kind of a badass and not in a scary way but in a cool way where you tell me what I’m going to do in, uh, certain moments.” He blushes, and you can feel the heat snaking up his neck where your face is pressed against it. “You’re kind of like…the Leia to my Han.”

You burst out laughing. “What?” He asks, “What the hell's funny?” “Nothing,” you choke out in between giggles. “Something Munson said.” “I’m going to kill him,” Steve says, whipping his head around behind him to look for Eddie. “Don’t,” you say, bracing a hand against his chest. “Will you walk me to the bathroom?” “You’re still that out of it?” Steve asks, laughing. “Just need some guidance, I think.” You smile up at him, willing him to believe the faux innocence you’ve plastered over your face. “Alright, baby girl, to the bathroom we go.” He wraps one arm around your waist, the other around your shoulders. You stumble a few times as you walk down the hallway, trying to sell the “drunk girl at a party” bit to any of your friends who might wonder where the two of you have gone in a few minutes. Outside the bathroom, he leans you against the door frame. “You okay, babe?” He asks, concern over his face. “I’m okay,” you say, stretching up on to your toes. You press your lips against his cheek, and he anticipates you, turning his head to try to meet your mouth. You end up pressing your lips against the corner of his mouth, which is turned up in a slight smile. “Let’s try that again,” he whispers, leaning down to your face where his lips meet yours.

#my fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #jonathan byers #argyle #nancy wheeler #stranger things #steve harrington series #sub!steve harrington #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington stranger things #fruity four #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #feral fics

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