#Nancy Drew is the only one that did | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andvys · 8 months ago

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twelve ⭐︎ When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, mutual pining, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of cheating (not on reader), mentions of past stancy, jealous!Steve, slightly mean!Steve (kinda?), smut smut smut, bathroom sex, car sex, fingering, squirting. I like to picture Jacob as Drew Starkey hehe

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve had never handled his jealousy very well, but being jealous over you, brings out a new side in him. He would do anything to keep you, anything.

Word count: 17.4k+

Author's note: I've been waiting for this chapter since forever, jealous men are always my jam, and @hellfire--cult took these ideas to a whole new level, enjoy this filthy chapter. This one is for all my Steve girlies who haven't given up on me after my last story ♡ Roe, I should grant you a thousand wishes at this point, you keep me so hyped for this story. Also this chapter wouldn't have been this good without you, don't even try to fight me

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Nancy’s brows are furrowed in concentration, her pink lips pursed as she looks through the many dresses to find the perfect one, her curly hair is pulled up into a bun, held together by a white scrunchie with pink polka dots, she’s wearing one of the outfits she had gotten on your last shopping trip together, this is only your second time, but it’s fun, you like hanging out with her.

You drove to Indianapolis since Hawkins doesn’t have all too many clothing stores, especially after the ‘fire’ at the mall, you prefer it here anyways, the big city has much more to offer than the small town.

“What do you think of this one?” Nancy asks as she shows you the yellow sundress.

You tilt your head, pressing your lips together as you eye it, not quite liking the way too bright color. You walk around the clothing rack to get to the other side, holding the clothing items that you threw over your forearm a little tighter as you take in the different colors of the dress she’s still holding up.

“Mmm… No, maybe the blue one, Nancy?” You ask, as you point your finger at the baby blue color, when your eyes widen as you catch sight of the purple one, “or, the purple one! That one would look cute, it matches the color of your eyeshadow!”

She smiles at you, nodding excitedly. She puts the yellow dress on the rack, and looks through the purple ones to find her size.

“But you should go for the yellow one if you like it more.”

She shakes her head, looking back at you, “no, I trust your judgment,” she smiles and picks out the dress, “besides, this color is way cuter.”

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips, “yeah, it’ll look amazing on you.”

Her dimples show and her eyes light up a little.

Nancy has been nothing but kind and sweet to you, and you can’t help but feel guilt and regret growing inside of you for the way you once felt about her.

You weren’t only jealous of her because she had Steve, you also hated her for having him, and you’d spent your shared classes with her, staring at her and comparing yourself to the girl he loved so dearly – the girl he still loves. You were never rude to her or mean, you never glared at her or threw comments at her the way other girls did, after Steve had humiliated her in front of the whole town, despite your feelings for him, you did feel disappointed for what he had done, even when you didn’t even like her, at that time.

“You should try this one on!” Nancy pulls you out of your thoughts, a grin on her face as she holds up a black dress – a daring black dress. It’s short and flowy, the straps are thin, it’s low cut with a dainty bow on the front, the back very exposed. “You could wear this one to Vickie’s party.”

A smile tugs at your lips, you step forward and slowly reach your hands out to take it from her.

“You will look hot in it,” Nancy wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging her shoulder against yours as she brushes past you to look for more dresses, “I’m sure I won’t be the only one who thinks that,” she says in a sing-song voice.

Nancy had been very persistent in trying to get you to go on dates. The last time you went out together, the Barista at your local coffee shop had put his number on your takeaway cup after giving you the order for free. She tried to convince you to give him a call, gushing over how sweet he was to you and how he looked at you, and yeah, he was sweet, he was very good looking too, and maybe you would’ve given him a call if things were still the same they were months before this. Yeah, you would’ve definitely given him a call, but only to forget about the certain someone who woke up in your bed this morning. Whose bed you will go to sleep in tonight.

As you stare at the dress, all that you can think about is Steve, and how he will react to seeing you in this.

Will he think that you’re pretty?

Will you look irresistible to him?

Will he want to tear it off of you?

After all, he does like your dresses, your sundresses especially, you see the way his eyes darken whenever you step into his house with a new one on your body, like he is ready to rip it to shreds and devour you for the next few hours or so, and he usually does, sometimes he doesn’t even take it off, and only pushes it aside, bunching it around your waist.

This sundress is by far more revealing than any of the other ones you have worn before. Excitement bubbles in your stomach as you think of his reaction to it.

You are definitely getting it.

After taking forever to pick out what clothes to keep in the dressing room, you both make your way out of the store with full bags, stuffed with new summer clothes. You stroll around town for a while, looking for new jewelry and shoes to go with the dresses you both bought.

You never realized just how much you missed having a girl friend to do these things with, until you sit down at a cute café to eat some late lunch. It’s something you always used to do with your childhood best friend, that you always try not to think of, too painful are the memories of Chrissy and how you couldn’t be there for her, how you couldn’t save her. You always wondered if things would have gone differently had you both not drifted apart the way you did when you both went separate ways.

But it’s no use to overthink about it, you won’t ever find out.

“Funny how we’re shopping for clothes, when a few weeks back we were fighting for our lives against something the whole world doesn’t even know about,” Nancy says as she looks over the menu.

“Yeah,” you nod with wide eyes, glancing up from your own menu to look at her, you realize that you never asked how she got involved in all of it, in the first place.

You clear your throat, “I never asked… how did you get involved?”

She raises her brows at your question, taking a deep breath before she puts down the menu.

“I–It was when Barb went missing, right after Will… What the police said about her wasn’t right, I knew my Barb, so I looked into it all, and I dragged Jonathan in with me because he was looking for his brother, only to find out that my brother and all of his friends were in it too…” She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips.

You laugh a little, shaking your head.

A shiver runs down your spine as you think of how long it had all been going on in the shadows, how long you had been unaware of the Upside Down and the existence of monsters, how children were involved in something they shouldn’t have been.

“And then, poor Steve… He showed up at Jonathan’s place when we tried to lure in the Demogorgon, he almost ran off… but he came right back to fight him with us.”

You know all about it, Steve told you how he fought the Demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan, how he had been dragged into it all by accident, how he helped Dustin find Dart, how he protected the kids and climbed into the tunnel after getting beaten by Billy.

You know most of what happened, not only from Steve, but also from Robin, but you feel intrigued, you want to know more… from her.

Something flashes in her eyes, a look of guilt, a look of regret.

You know exactly what she’s thinking about, and you know that you shouldn’t bring this up, but your curiosity gets the best of you.

“I-I was at Tina’s Halloween party.”

Nancy winces at that, she doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your words, just… regretful of the memories that night brings her.

You remember the night just as well as she does. Steve had bumped into you after he rushed out of the bathroom you didn’t even know he was in with Nancy, he glared at you and nudged your shoulder harshly, he rudely told you to move out of his way and murmured some incoherent curse word at you.

You remember how deflected you felt, all night you had avoided him only to bump into him in his worst moment.

Everyone knows what happened that night, not in full detail, but it doesn’t take a genius to find out what happened between King Steve and his girlfriend after he had stormed out of the house without her, and she left with Jonathan instead.

Word traveled around, rumors circulated, but you didn’t listen to them, it wasn’t any of your business, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened anyways. Just as Steve and Nancy’s relationship ended, she showed up to school, holding hands with Jonathan. Clearly, something happened between them long before her relationship with Steve had ended.

Steve hated you, but your heart broke for him still.

It was so very obvious how much he loved her, and you can imagine how much it hurt when she cheated on him, and left him and his heart in shambles.

“I-I will never forgive myself for it. No matter if– he did forgive me. I was horrible to him, no amount of apologies can take away the guilt I will forever feel.”

“W-What happened?” You ask nervously, not wanting to overstep but still feeling the curiosity tugging harshly in your chest.

She sighs, looking around the bustling street before her eyes move back to yours.

“I-I always blamed him for what happened to Barb, I should’ve gone home with her that night, but I didn’t, even though I promised I would. I went with him, a-and the Demogorgon got her,” she explains, shaking her head a little as she closes her eyes, “it wasn’t Steve’s fault, not at all, but I-I blamed him and every time I looked at him, I just thought about her and what happened to her and how things would’ve gone differently if I didn’t leave her that night, if I didn’t went with Steve.”

You dig your nails into your palms, swallowing harshly as you watch her.

“He was good to me, he was there for me, b-but I couldn’t stand him sometimes, and how he tried to act like everything was normal, when it wasn’t.”

The feeling of irritation sparks inside of your chest, crawling into your bloodstream.

“And then, the Halloween party… I just, I was still grieving and I was angry, I let it all out on him, I should’ve handled things differently, I shouldn’t have been so harsh but… I-I called him bullshit,” she confesses to you, scrunching up her nose as she cringes at her own self, “and then I confessed my true feelings for him and our relationship.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, the anger that you are holding back after those leave her mouth. Bullshit.

How could she do that to him?

How could she hurt him the way that she did?

How could she call him that?

You can tell that it takes a weight off her shoulders, that it’s something she hasn’t talked about since it happened, not to Robin, not even to Jonathan, because after these words leave her mouth, she takes a deep breath, and her body relaxes as she leans back in her seat.

Her face is edged with shame, but also with relief to finally be able to let it out.

And you try, you really try to hide your own feelings, the anger, the hurt that you feel for the man that you hold so dearly in your heart.

You feel thankful for the waiter who interrupts your thoughts, he places the drinks that you ordered on the table, and reaches for his notepad, taking Nancy’s food order first.

You take a sip of your iced tea and you watch her for a moment, reminding yourself of how long ago it was, how much she changed, how much he changed, how it’s none of your business, how you shouldn’t feel angry at her, even when she’s the one who hurt him, when she’s the one he still wants, despite what she did.

He would take her back in a heartbeat if she came back to him, and the thought breaks your heart.

But you can’t help but keep dancing around the topic, so after the waiter takes your order and leaves, you ask her something you’ve been wondering about for weeks now.

“Do you… regret it? Do you sometimes wish that things between you went differently?”

She leans her elbows on the table, placing the straw between her lips, she takes a sip of her drink before she leans back again.

“The only thing I regret is how I led him on, I wish I could go back, and lay it all out on him in a different way… Explain to him why… I didn’t feel that for him, give him a reason instead of making him think that he’s damaged.”

She cared about him, you can see it in her eyes, you can hear it in her voice. She cared, even if only poorly.

“I see,” you nod, trying not to sigh. “And… well– when the whole thing with Vecna…” You pause as you feel the weight on your chest crushing you with nervousness.

She tilts her head at you, “what?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, you lick your lips as you look around, watching the people in the busy street across the café for a moment, before you return your gaze to her.

“Well… It was noticeable you know… and then… you two weren’t exactly quiet in the RV,” you mumble, trying not to sound bitter as the day catches up to you, what Steve had said to Nancy, how he looked at her, how she looked at him – and the rude things he said about you before the white picket fence conversation came up.

Her eyes widen a little, cheeks blushing a deep red as she looks down sheepishly.

You don’t know what you had expected, but you certainly didn’t wait for her to blush, it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.

“I–I was just hurt because of Jonathan. Feelings are cunning, evil… I was angry, and I think my heart and mind looked for where I could find comfort.”

Oh, how ugly the feeling in your chest now is, how bitter the taste on your tongue is, how the sweetness of your drink does nothing to make it better, because you know, you know that you wouldn’t be sitting here now if Jonathan didn’t come back, you wouldn’t wake up in Steve’s bed or fall asleep in his arms.

Because she would be the one.

You knit your brows together as you stare at her, “but Steve–”

“I know but… I think it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing.”

You physically have to restrain yourself from clenching your jaw or rolling your eyes. So, you look away for a moment, staring into a blank space as you try to calm your breathing.

Heat of the moment.

You want to scoff and laugh at her words, because telling your ex-girlfriend that you want to have six kids with her is totally, a heat of the moment kind of thing, right.

You’re very well aware of the jealousy that is boiling inside of you, worsening every passing second, and yet, you can’t help but want to fuel the fire even more, and find out what she would’ve done if she needed more comfort.

So when you look at her back, you ask, “so… if you were still hurt and Jonathan didn’t come back…?”

You see the way she freezes, the way she hesitates, the way she takes way too long to answer your question.

“I-I don’t think that I would’ve been with Steve again… Even if my urges and desires told me to… That’s the only thing they were… desires or… attractions. I wouldn’t want to hurt him again and give him the idea that there’d be a chance for a future,” she sighs, shaking her head, “I’m not the one. I’m not the woman for the future of his.”

You don’t know whether to feel sad for Steve or yourself.

She is that woman.

She is the one, the only one that he wants in that way, so why is she denying it?

The question lingers in your mind and you can’t help but wonder, what would happen if she stopped denying it? If her feelings were more than just desire after all? If she came back to him?

There is no doubt about what he would do.

You’d be nothing but a faint memory the moment she’d come back.

You’d no longer occupy her space in his bed.

You’d no longer be the one he’d kiss, touch, feel.

And you, you would step aside without a moment of hesitation, because despite your feelings for him, you would want him to be happy, and you know that he would never get that with you.

“Besides, I don’t want to be. Steve was my first boyfriend, puppy love,” she chuckles. “It’s different with Jonathan, I want him in my future, a-and I’d honestly take any future with him,” she says, as a soft smile creeps on her face, “I didn’t love Steve but, I love him,” she says truthfully and honestly.

She isn’t someone you have to worry about.

She isn’t someone who will take your temporary space, at least not now, not anymore.

But you still can’t find peace within you after this conversation, you can’t push aside the thoughts of him, of how much he still wants her, of how much he still loves her, of how much he wishes to be with her again, and it upsets you, even when it shouldn’t.

So, when you come home, you throw your bags on the stairs and make your way into the kitchen, you pick up the telephone and you call him, coming up with some weak excuse as to why you can’t see him tonight.

You want to see him, but you wouldn’t be able to control your feelings, you wouldn’t be able to hide the pain in your eyes. If Nancy wasn’t with Jonathan, she would be with Steve, and he would choose her, then and now.

You heard the sigh on the other end, the disappointed ‘okay… bye, Blondie.’ before you hung up the phone abruptly.

You want him, you want to be with him, you want to feel his touch, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, and yet, you don’t at the same time, because right now, it would just hurt too much.

You need to calm your anxious thoughts, or you will give yourself away completely.

Two days.

It’s been two whole days since Steve had last seen you, and both his mind and his body were going crazy over the lack of you.

When you had called him on Wednesday evening, he was already waiting for you, giddy and excited for another night with you, but when you announced that you wouldn’t come, he felt deflected, a little crushed even, but he understood, you sounded tired and like you needed your rest, so he didn’t even try to convince you to let him come see you.

But the next day, there was no trace of you either, you didn’t call, you didn’t visit him at work, you didn’t come over, and when he tried to call you, you didn’t pick up the phone, you also weren’t home, your car wasn’t in your driveway, you were gone. And it made him feel… weird.

Because where were you?

You had never done anything like this before, always eager and ready for him, but never this.

He craved you so terribly, he wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice, to feel your touch, to feel your body beneath his.

He longed for you, and two days away from you, only showed him just how much of a hold you have over him.

The past two days went by so slowly, it was almost agonizing – just like the terrible music that blasts through Vickie’s house as more and more strangers make their way into her home, filling the empty spaces.

With his back against the wall, Steve stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored expression on his face as he nods along to Eddie’s rambling about some band he had never even heard the name of, occasionally putting on his meanest face to glare at the people who give Eddie dirty looks. He can’t stand them.

He takes a sip of his coke, looking around the crowded room in search of you.

He knows you’re here, but he has yet to see you.

You came with Eddie, but while the latter instantly came to find him, you apparently left to find Robin, who he hasn’t seen in a while either.

He has been here for at least two hours now, and he is beginning to grow restless, wanting to just push himself away from the wall and go find you.

“--And I can’t wait to see them live, man! No more headbanging in my room,” Eddie laughs as he sips on his beer. “Judas Priest is sick! You gotta come with us, I’m sure Gareth won’t mind.”

“Mmm.” Steve nods, glancing at Eddie with a plastered smile on his face, he feels a bit bad for not listening to him, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, he continues talking.

Steve cranes his neck, looking into the kitchen, then into the hallway, and out into the backyard, trying to catch a glimpse of you, but all he sees are people he doesn’t care about.

The music is starting to give him a headache, and the smell of liquor and weed is beginning to make him feel hazy. He's not drinking, he’s got other plans that hopefully won’t be canceled tonight but the more time passes, and there is still no trace of you, his hope is beginning to dwindle, because a part of him starts to believe that you are doing this on purpose, not showing yourself to him.

Are you avoiding him?

The thought makes his chest ache weirdly, a feeling that he can’t even describe floods through his veins.

He doesn’t want you to avoid him, he doesn’t want you to stay away from him, he doesn’t want you to get bored of him.

“I got Robin to listen to my mixtape, you’re next, I’m telling you, you’re gonna be a metalhead in no time,” Eddie chuckles, bumping his shoulder into his, he pulls Steve out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” Steve furrows his brows at him before a forced laugh falls from his lips, “y-yeah, sure.”

Eddie snorts, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a single word he just said and still agreed. A smirk tugs at his lips, he tilts his head, “so, you’re gonna listen to it?”

Steve nods, pursing his lips as he scratches the back of his neck.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, almost cackling.

“Yeah, promise,” Steve shrugs.

Eddie shakes his head, bringing his beer up to his lips, “you’re gonna regret that,” he murmurs against the glass before he takes a sip.

Steve hates the music Eddie listens to, he’s hated every song he has shown him so far, but Eddie will take that promise in satisfaction, knowing that Steve never breaks any of his promises.

Eddie takes a look around the room, recognizing a few people from school, some of whom have already graduated the year before. The guy by the snack table is the one who catches his attention the most, he squints his eyes as he takes a better look at him – tall, dark blond, lean, the gold ring that he always wore on his middle finger, still in place. Jacob Leeney.

He hasn’t seen him since last year when Jacob was back from college for the weekend, the same weekend you made this guy lucky.

He wants to make a joke to Steve about it, knowing that he hates the football captain’s guts, when from the corner of his eye, he notices how Steve stands up straighter.

Every hope that began to dwindle, comes back in a rush when Steve sees you for the first time in two days.

You walk into the room with a drink in your hand, a smile on your lips that grows brighter when your eyes lock with his.

His own eyes light up at the sight of you, something in his chest swells with a feeling he grew unfamiliar to. His lips curl into a smile as he stares at your face for the longest time, before he lets his eyes roam your body, the exposed skin that isn’t covered by the pretty dress that you’re wearing, begging for his attention, begging to be marked up by his lips and to be touched by his hands.

If only he could look into his own reflection to see just how awestruck he looks at the sight of you, how you lit up the whole room for him with your presence. If only he was focused on the beating of his heart or the fluttering in his stomach, the butterflies he thought were long gone, rising back up and filling him with life.

Your skin is glowing beneath the dim fairy lights, your glossy lips that he craves to feel on his own, looking even more kissable than usual, and he already begins to count down the second until he can actually feel them.

You start making your way over to him, the platform heels that you’re wearing making you look taller than you are.

Steve licks his lips, having to fight the urge to just meet you halfway, throw you over his shoulder and get the hell out of here so he can have you all to himself.

Your eyes are locked with his, a blush creeps up on your face and you grow flustered beneath his stare, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you raise your hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear – good, nothing changed in those two days.

His excitement grows, the closer you get, he has nearly all forgotten about his friend next to him, about the other people in this room, but the reminder that it’s not just you and him in this room, catches up quickly, when the smile falls from your lips and your eyebrows furrow as a hand on your upper arm stops you, not enough to startle you, but enough to make you turn around in and look away from him.

Steve’s own smile falls, and he straightens his back even more.

He no longer sees your face, your expression or your reaction, but he sees him, Jacob Leeney. And the sight of him alone, is enough to turn the fire that you lit up inside of him, into raging flames. – And not because of the rivalry that was once between them, but because of what he had found out about you and the football captain not too long ago.

Steve can’t hear what he’s saying to you, but the smile, the smirk on Jacob’s face makes his blood boil. The look in his eyes as he stares you down, making him clench his jaw.

He pulls you into a hug, hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades, but not quite staying there, he moves it lower and lower until it rests dangerously low on your back as he hugs you for longer than necessary.

“Damn,” Eddie mumbles from beside him, “Leeney’s about to get another best fuck of his life,” he chuckles, repeating the words that the jock had said to him months back.

And it does little to calm Steve down.

“I mean, unless they’ve seen each other this week before, I heard that he was back in town… a few days ago,” Eddie shrugs, watching him closely.

He watches the way you take a step back, putting distance between you and Jacob after you pull away from the hug, but his hand lingers, not on your back anymore, but now on your elbow as he taps his fingers against your skin, talking to you with a look on his face that gives away his intentions. The sparkling in his eyes matches the one of his own, he wants you, he wants you badly. The interaction between you seems so… trusted, intimate.

And then, Steve registers what Eddie had said to him, just now.

A few days ago.

Steve freezes.

The cold shudder that runs through him, weakening the flames that just ignited.

Is that why you canceled your plans with him?

Is he the reason why you haven’t called?

Did you stand him up for Jacob?

Were you with him?

Did you let him kiss you?

Did you let him touch you?

Did you forget all about him?

He can’t decipher his own emotions at this very moment, too many are running through him, anger, frustrations… and a very ugly emotion that he won’t admit to feeling.

He takes a deep breath, unable to hide the frown on his face as he watches you.

Steve knew it, he knew that his own rule would come to haunt him, and he suddenly feels a deep regret for suggesting the inclusivity that allows you to see other people, he doesn’t want you to do that, he doesn’t want you to see other people, he wants to be the only one for you.

He is watching you, so closely, so intensely, glaring at the touchy man in front of you, like he’s ready to light him up with his own eyes for putting his hands on places only he should be allowed to touch.

Eddie slaps his shoulder, “I’ll be right back,” he announces before he scurries away from Steve who refuses to tear his eyes off of you.

He continues to watch you like a hawk, eyes not straying away from you and the man before you, and despite the intensity in his gaze, he is blind to your reactions, to the subtle, tiny steps you take to put distance between you and Jacob. All that Steve can see is the burning red that flashes in his eyes every time he touches you.

He sees the way your shoulders shake from laughter, the way you brush your hair back as you tilt your head up to look at him.

And the more time passes as you stand across the room, spending time with someone who isn’t him, he begins to grow impatient, restless.

You should be here, with him, by his side.

And he wants to show you that the only one you need is him. So, without a second of hesitation, he slams his drink on the table, and he lets his feet carry him over to you, no longer wanting to stand there and watch how someone else might steal you away from him, he won’t let it happen.

He let it happen with Nancy, he probably would’ve let it happen again if he was still with her, if this was her with Jonathan in front of him, he would’ve looked the other way, despite the aching in his chest.

But you aren’t Nancy, and his feelings, his reactions, his action that he’s about to take, didn’t fully sink in yet.

Once he is in earshot, Steve hears Jacob’s annoying, flirty voice.

“You’re the prettiest girl at this party.”

Your giggle follows, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl – if he wasn’t so driven by jealousy, and blinded by anger, he would’ve heard how fake it sounded.

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

Jacob chuckles, opening his mouth to speak, to throw some lame pick up line at you, probably.

But Steve doesn’t let him. Stepping up beside you, he places his hand on your back first, before he slides it down to your waist, gripping it tightly. The feeling of your body beneath his palm, your warmth and the way you melt into his touch after you turn and tilt your head to look at him, makes his stomach flutter pleasantly.

You step closer to him, relaxing further when he squeezes you with his large hand, though your eyes are wide and your lips are parted as you stare at him.

Right now, he can’t even find it in himself to care that your friends could see the intimacy between you and him, all he cares about is you and dragging you away so he can finally have you all to himself.

“Can I talk to you?” He asks, calmly.

Your wide eyes spark with curiosity as they look into his own, your glossy lips parting further for him as you come up with words, only to be cut off by Jacob.

“Oh hello, Harrington, long time no see!” The jock grins.

Steve clenches his jaw, but still turns to face him, biting back the distaste on his tongue, he nods at him, “yeah, yeah man, I’ll take her for a minute, okay?” He mumbles with squinted eyes and a fake smile on his lips as he points to you.

Before the blond can even respond, Steve’s hand leaves your waist, and moves over to your wrist. He grabs your much smaller hand and holds it tightly, giving it a squeeze as he pulls you away and begins to walk, basically dragging you out of the room, and you don’t protest, you follow him, without a single word, slamming your drink on the counter on the way out.

You both walk into the crowded hallway, and he pulls you closer to him when you pass by a group of guys who are talking rather loudly. He pushes you towards the stairs, bringing your hand up a little as he gets behind you.

He doesn’t even bother to look out for your friends, they aren’t on his mind right now and he finds himself not caring about who could see you together. He also doesn’t care about one of his many rules that he is about to break when he pushes you into an empty bathroom.

You switch the light on and let go of his hand when you walk in further.

Steve turns around to close and lock the door, his fingers linger on the handle as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“What’s wrong, did something happen?” You ask.

He opens his eyes again and turns around to face you, he raises his hand up, running it through his styled hair, he licks his lips as he lets his eyes roam your body for a second, taking a better look at the dress he hasn’t seen on you before, it must be new.

The light that shines on you from the ceiling is golden, making your soft skin glow, making it look even more delicate, more desirable. Your chest rises up and down heavily, a worried expression etched in your beautiful features as you stare at him with furrowed brows. Your pouty lips parted.

Can he blame Jacob for trying to go after you? Not really.

“Nope, nothing happened,” he mumbles as he makes his way over to you.

You shake your head a little, frowning, “then why–”

He practically lurches forward, cupping your cheeks, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, the way he wanted to, all night.

You squeal in surprise, a noise that only fuels his lust even more, prompting him to deepen the kiss roughly. He can taste the sweetness of rum and pepsi on your lips, the strawberry from your gloss, he can taste you, he can smell the intoxicating scent of your perfume, he can feel your arms around his shoulders now as you start moving your lips against his, picking up the pace to match the speed of his own.

He moans when your fingers get lost in his hair and your nails graze his scalp as you try to pull him closer against you.

He licks your bottom lip, parting it with his tongue so he can slip it into your mouth. You let him. His palm slides down to your jaw, he holds it there for a moment as his other hand moves down to your hip, gripping it tightly as he presses you against the counter behind you, fingers now playing with the flimsy material of your sundress.

A needy moan blesses his ears, the delicious sound rushing to his cock, making it stir in his pants that are now getting way too tight around his groin.

You place your hand on the back of his neck as you place your other on his chest, pressing yourself further against him as you kiss him with whimpers and a neediness that he thought only he was feeling.

God, he missed you.

But, did you miss him?

Did your lips touch someone else’s when you weren’t with him, where you were supposed to be?

The flames that are still raging inside of him, sparking a new kind of anger in him at the thought of it, it prompts him to do something that he has never done before – he bites your bottom lip, making you wince and moan at the pain.

He pinches your chin between his fingers, pulling away from the kiss to look at you.

With furrowed brows, you open your eyes to look at him, leaning back in to steal a kiss, but he keeps you in place, ignoring the whine that falls from your lips.

“Jacob Leeney, huh?” He mutters, instantly clenching his jaw after saying that name out loud. “Why did you talk to him, hm?”

Steve moves his hand under your dress.

“W-What?” You ask, shakily. “He was just talking to me about college.”

Right. That is the reason why he looked at you like he was ready to tear your dress off and devour you, right then and there.

“Right,” he mumbles, gritting his teeth in anger.

You stare at him with a frown on your face, tilting your head a little as you reach your hand up to wrap it around his wrist. And then, realization flashes in your eyes and your lips twitch a little.

“You plan on fucking him tonight, Blondie?” He sneers, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.

You raise your eyebrows, pressing your lips together, he watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow.

The silence between you is nearly deafening, he can feel your breath on his thumb as he still holds your chin, he waits for you to answer his question.

Your eyes crinkle, and your lips curl into a smile before you suddenly burst into giggles, making his irritation feel worse than before.

Steve’s muscles tense up and he bites the insides of his cheeks, pressing his knee in between your thighs, he holds you tighter.

“Why are you laughing, huh?” He asks, as he leans closer to you, cupping your jaw again, he tilts your head to the side, making your giggles die down the moment he latches his lips onto your neck.

You suck in a sharp breath.

“Mmm, nothing,” you murmur, “w-what if I am? What if I do plan on fucking him?”

Steve has to hold back to growl, threatening to escape as he presses another rough kiss to your neck, his fingers now digging deeper into your hip.

“Well, I have a little priority here, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin.

“Wasn’t it you… the one who said no exclusivity, Steve?”

His breath stopped for a moment, regret gnawing up in his throat like vile. He wants to back out of that rule… but you are not his, so he waters it down.

“New rule then, Blondie,” he mumbles, not stopping with the kisses on your neck, “we leave with each other when we are at the same place. So, meaning today it’s me.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his words, questions already lingering in your mind.

You would always choose Steve.

There is no one else you would go home with.

And you can’t help but want him to know, but you don’t get to tell him because just as you open your mouth, Steve starts kissing your neck differently, intensely, roughly. He sucks on your neck, marking you up and blessing your delicate skin with hickeys as though he wants to show everyone that you’re his, that you belong to him.

And you do, you do belong to him, but he doesn’t know it.

He doesn’t know that your heart is his, that your mind and body is in his possession.

He doesn’t know how crazy you go over his touches, how your heart flutters at every slightest touch of his, how weak and vulnerable you feel when he holds you, how no one else could ever come close to make you feel the things that he can make you feel.

“How many drinks did you have, Blondie?”

“J-Just half of the drink I left downstairs,” you say, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.

“Just that?” He asks, “you’re not drunk, are you?”

You shake your head quickly, “no, not at all.”

“Good,” he nods.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his fingers on your ruined panties, he pushes them aside and slips his long fingers through your folds, dipping them inside of you before he pulls them back out to tease your clit, digits now coated with your slick.

You jerk a little, wrapping your arm around him so you can hold onto him, a needy moan escapes your mouth.

You could have had this on Wednesday night, you could have had this last night, but you were too busy worrying about something that filled your heart with pain.

“S-Steve!”

He gets lost in his feelings, lost in the rage, in the possessiveness and the urge to show you that he should be the only one for you. His teeth graze your neck, his lips suck harshly on your skin as he spreads you open with two fingers.

You mewl when he starts pumping them inside of you, in and out, deeply and slowly at first.

“Who are you so wet for, huh?” He asks, pulling away just enough so he can look at the marks he left, appreciating the sight in front of him for a second, before he pulls your face towards him, gripping your chin tighter than before, his thumb now lingering on your bottom lip. “Tell me, Blondie”

You open your eyes, revealing to him just how dark they are, how much lust lingers in them.

“You, Stevie! Just you!” You whine needily before you wrap your lips around his thumb, catching him off guard, once again. You swirl your tongue around it, looking into his hazel eyes as you start sucking, you watch the way they widen and darken, the tension in his jaw now leaving as he is only focused on this, on you.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, picking up the pace of his fingers, he drags them out of you and slams them back in, nearly moaning himself when he listens to the squelching noises as he finger-fucks you, “just me?”

Your jaw drops and you throw your head back, letting go of him to hold onto the edges of the counter, he has got you pressed against at. You nod quickly, “yes, yes! Just you, only you!” You ramble as you squeeze your eyes shut again, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside of you.

“Good.”

Steve can feel how you clench around him, how you’re already so close even though he didn’t even get started yet. He leans in to peck your lips as he curls his fingers inside of you, and he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing it slowly.

He feels himself growing harder – the feeling of your tight, wet walls around his fingers being too much, along with the needy moans that keep falling from your pretty lips.

He stares at you, watching the way your nipples poke through the thin material of your dress – of course, you’re not wearing a bra. You bite your lip, your brows are knit together, and your head falls to the side as you let yourself get lost in the feeling he provides you with.

Not Jacob, definitely not Jacob.

The jock could never make you feel this, he is so sure of it, and yet, Steve can’t shake the thoughts of you and him together.

Would you be this wet for him too?

Would you moan so prettily for him?

Would you be so needy for him?

The anger just won’t leave him, it refuses to, it has him in its tightest grip, urging him to prove something to you.

His chest heaves up and down heavily, his darkened eyes are nearly black now.

You’re close, he can feel that you are with the way you’re clenching around him, but he doesn’t let you cum like this tonight, so he pulls his fingers out of you.

Your eyes shoot open and your lips part as you’re about to protest, pouting at him. He grabs your hips with both of his hands, turning you around abruptly, he bends you over the counter and presses himself against you, and he chuckles darkly when you gasp at his action.

Steve reaches for the hem of your dress and he flips it over, exposing your ass to him and the lacy thong you’re wearing, he groans at the sight of it, unable to hold back, he rears his hand back before he smacks his large palm against your skin, slapping your ass harshly.

Steve has never, never treated a girl roughly before, not any of his hookups, not Nancy, but then again, he never had this much fun with any of them. Letting go of his inhibitions, taking what he wants for once, and the fact that you let him, and even love it, makes him go feral.

But as the realization sinks in of what he had done, his eyes widen as fear rushes through him, worried that he had gone too far, but you ease his mind with the filthy whimper that sounds through the room as you press your ass against his dick, rubbing it against him as though you’re asking for more.

He can’t help but chuckle, the shock and the fear vanishing just as quick as it came.

“Oh, you like that, Blondie?” He asks as he presses his palm against your ass, this time not slapping it, but grabbing it roughly, making you whine again. “Of course you fucking do,” he murmurs as he lets go, only to smack you once more, making you gasp his name in pleasure.

“Please!”

He looks at your reflection in the mirror, needy eyes meeting his.

“Please what?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt and pops the button of his jeans, he reaches for the condom in his back pocket – mentally thanking his needy self for placing one there before he left his house, in hopes that he would get this.

“Please, fuck me!”

He pushes his jeans and boxers down, just enough to free himself, not wasting any more time, he rips apart the foil and throws the empty packet on the ground, making quick work of rolling the condom over his length. With his chin against his chest, he looks down, stroking his dick for good measure, his spit curl falls in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way, he looks up through hooded eyes, glancing at you through the mirror, he almost wants to chuckle at the desperation in your eyes, but it gets stuck in his throat when you push your ass back against his dick, whining.

His stomach flutters seeing you so desperate for no one but him.

He grabs your hip with his left hand, pressing himself against you, he teases both you and himself by slipping his shaft through your wet folds, he watches the way you look at him, begging for more with your eyes as you push yourself up a little.

He presses his palm against your lower back, pushing you down so your chest is flush against the marble counter, he lines up with your entrance and pushes inside of you slowly. Waves of pleasure rush through him in an instant. You scrunch your face up, lips parting as a sigh escapes you.

You throw your hand back, reaching for his forearm, you grab it tightly as you shut your eyes and drop your head a little, your hair falls in front of your face, hiding all your pretty features.

Steve looks down, watching his cock disappear into your weeping pussy.

“You take me so well, holy shit,” he murmurs under his breath. And it was the truth, you take him like no other, making you the most addictive.

He sinks into you, deeper and deeper, stretching you out and splitting you open, the tension inside of him grows and his heartbeat increases. He pulls out again, watching the way the condom around him glistens with your slick – how he wishes that he could feel you without it. He slams back in, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He starts thrusting, in and out, deeply and slowly at first, but with an intensity that makes you open your eyes again.

“Steve!”

“That’s right,” He grunts, reaching his hand forward, he grabs your hair and tilts your head back up, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as he moves his hips faster, quickening his pace until he’s pounding you. “Look at who’s fucking you right now, Blondie.”

The loudest moan falls from your lips, and you instantly bring your hand up to cup your mouth, panic flashing in your lust filled eyes. Despite the loud music, you are scared that someone might hear you, and it only prompts him to fuck you harder and rougher against the counter, holding you tighter as heat spreads in his chest – who do you want to hide from? Your friends, or Jacob?

But while Steve worries about something that isn’t even on your mind, you are so far gone, so lost in the pleasure that you feel because of him, your insides so sensitive already, yet aching for more. You focus on the way he thrusts in and out of you, how heavenly it feels to feel him inside of you, to feel him in your stomach.

You are so drunk on him that there is not a single thought in your brain, only him.

No one has ever done this to you, no one has ever made you feel so weak, so submissive, so lost in the heat of the moment, no one has ever taken such control – you wouldn’t have let them, only he can have this.

Your eyes turn glassy, rolling back as you throw your head back, your weak hand falling from your face again.

“Yeah, as if that asshole could fuck you like this,” he grunts, letting go of your hair and moving his hand forward to cup your cheeks, “say it. Say no one can fuck you like this, Blondie, because I know it’s true.”

Your walls clench and flutter around him, a cry leaving you as he pulls your ass up a little, slamming in and out of you, hitting the spot that makes tears fall from your eyes, making him even more aroused than before.

“Only you, Steve!” You sob as a tear spills down your cheek and onto his thumb.

Your knees buckle and your body begins to tremble, sobs and moans turn into needy whines and whimpers, your flustered face decorated with pretty tears making his muscles tense in his stomach.

You try to keep quiet as you press your lips together, trying to breathe calmly through your nose despite the pounding in your chest, when he suddenly changes the pace again, pounding you so hard that he knocks you forward, hitting so deep inside of your squelching pussy, that you can’t help but cry out loudly as stars blur your vision.

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie!”

Steve nearly busts, eyes widening at the way you chant his name so desperately. His hips stutter a little and he has to suck in a sharp breath, eyes shutting for a moment. He twitches inside of you, and it doesn’t help that you keep clenching.

The sound of the music, of laughter and voices outside are so far away, the only thing you both hear are your moans and how wet you are as his skin slaps against yours.

He slows down a little, enough to make you whine again, to make you move back against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock.

“F-Fuck,” Steve moans, he opens his eyes again, reaching forward, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you up and against his chest before he lets his hand travel down your stomach, he pushes your dress out of the way, and his fingers find their way to your clit.

A high pitched moan echoes through the room, your body shakes harder and you grab his forearm tightly as he rubs circles on your sensitive nub.

He presses his lips to your neck, moaning himself as the tension in his stomach grows bigger and bigger. He kisses your delicate skin, his mouth brushing the dark marks he left.

You cling to him, nails grazing his skin, you press the side of your face against his, staining his cheek with your tears.

“I know, baby, I know.”

If only he knew just how such a simple yet special word affects your heart, making it beat faster and harder in your chest, setting all your insides on fire and igniting something in you that throws you into a pit of love and glee.

Steve had never called you this before, and you could only dream of such sweet nicknames, until now.

Your eyes roll back again, eyelashes fluttering as you squeeze them shut completely, mouth ajar as filthy noises fall. You’d fall over if it wasn’t for his strong arms holding you up, his fingers moving so fastly on your clit, his dick so deep inside of you, his lips biting gently on your skin, all it takes is another rough thrust and your body begins to shake for a different reason, you fall apart for him, once again.

You don’t even feel yourself drooling, you no longer feel the tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the spot behind it before he grabs your chin and tilts your head to the side so he can press his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft kiss as he keeps fucking you, chasing his own high.

Steve furrows his brows, his muffled moan vibrating against your lips as he gives one last powerful thrust and spills into the condom, secretly wishing that he could spill inside of you and paint your walls white instead.

His body relaxes after the high it had been on for the past minutes, muscles loosening, but lips still moving gently against yours.

Both yours and his moans die down after a moment, but you’re still panting, trying to catch your breaths as you pull away from one another. You open your eyes, and look into his, the blackness slowly fading away and you see the pretty hazel color again. His tongue licks his bottom lip, eyes flickering between your own and the marks he left on your neck.

A lazy smile appears on your face and you feign confidence as you tilt your head to the side and reach your hand up to move the spit curl away from his forehead, the tips of your fingers brushing his skin, he holds you tighter in response.

“I didn’t think you could get so jealous, Steve,” you whisper, ‘jokingly’ but most of all, painfully to yourself.

You’d hope that he was jealous, that all of this was the result of the burning red emotion, but why would he feel jealous over you?

Just the presence of Jacob was enough to bruise Steve’s ego. That’s all that it was.

You know he never liked the jock, and the fact that he got his hands on you first, must’ve hit a nerve. But it has nothing to do with you. Steve is not jealous of who you sleep with, he doesn’t care. He is just bruised cause he felt threatened with an ex hook-up you had, afraid of them stealing you for tonight.

Steve huffs at your words, shaking his head at you. He pulls out of you with a hiss, cursing under his breath.

“Well, did you think I’d let him steal you away from me…?” He asks, clearing his throat as he adds, “tonight?”

And then he looks down, not wanting to show his face, to show how jealous he really is.

He doesn’t need you to know that.

He slips his hand between your thighs again, adjusting your panties and putting them back in place before he fixes your dress, pushing it back down over your ass.

Your eyes soften at his action, heart fluttering in your chest.

It’s not the first time he does this, he always takes care of you – he cleans you up, he helps you put a shirt on your body whenever you stay over, whenever you’re too weak to move. He is good to you, gentle and soft, and that is dangerous, because despite the thoughts in your head, the logical part that tells you the truth, his actions keep putting false hope into your heart.

You grab the counter, and on shaky feet, you step closer and hold onto it tightly, watching as he fixes himself next, throwing the condom and the discarded foil into the trash, he tucks himself back into his pants and steps towards the counter beside you to wash his hands.

His lips are stained with your lipstick, his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed – he looks so cute like this.

You tear your eyes away from him and finally look at your own reflection, your eyes widen and you gasp in shock – not at the mascara that runs down your face, the messy hair or just how puffy your lips are, no, this is not exactly an unusual sight to see, but the marks on your neck are, because they are so much bigger and darker than they usually are.

You throw your hand up towards your neck and turn to face him, “what the fuck, Steve?”

He winces, quickly drying his hands before he turns to face you, as well. Eying your hand that is covering the hickeys he left, your big eyes filled with panic. He can’t help but think you look cute like this, with your hair all messy and your lips curled into a pout.

“H-How am I gonna hide–”

He grabs your face and pulls you into a soft kiss, just a quick peck, one that is enough to cut you off.

“You think I’m done with you and we’re gonna go back to the party?” He chuckles, caressing your cheek as he pulls away from your puckered lips, “no, we’re leaving, Blondie.”

You gulp at his words and squeeze your aching thighs together as excitement rises back up in you.

“So, fix yourself and meet me downstairs,” he murmurs, placing another soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away. “I’ll wait by the front door.”

He takes another look at your neck, hiding his satisfied smirk by turning around. He unlocks the door and opens it, leaving you alone in the bathroom as he makes his way downstairs to find Eddie or Robin, to announce that he will be driving home a very sick Blondie.

While a smirk keeps playing on his lips, you are panicking in the bathroom, not knowing how to hide the marks he left, what lie to come up with this time if Eddie sees and asks questions again.

You do your best to fix your hair, running your fingers through it and wiping away the mascara streaks on your cheeks, and the smudged lipstick, that you only now realize, is still on his lips, he didn’t even bother to wipe it away – what an idiot.

You step back and take a look at your dress, smoothing it down and moving your hands back to your hair. The marks on your neck are so strong, so very visible, you’re not even sure if foundation and concealer will be able to hide this. A groan falls from your lips.

You should do the same to him, he surely won’t fix it with makeup.

You press your palm against your neck, testing out how it will look if you just go out like this.

“This looks so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes.

You pray that you won’t run into any of your friends on the way out, all you have to do is make it downstairs and to the front door. You haven’t seen much of Eddie before, and Robin is too busy with Vickie anyways.

You take a deep breath and then you step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. It’s not as crowded as it is downstairs, but there are still a few people you have to pass, as you awkwardly keep your hand on your neck, pretending to scratch it.

You feel eyes on you, but you don’t bother to turn around to look at them, not even caring if they heard you and Steve – as long as your friends didn’t hear, you’re good.

Your legs are shaky, and walking in your platform heels feels like a workout after Steve just railed you into oblivion, your stomach still flutters, yet feeling empty at the lack of him.

You walk down the stairs, carefully. You hope that your knees won’t buckle.

The party is still in full swing, some Billy Idol song blaring through the speakers as the living room is still filled with dancing people. Red solo cups are everywhere, empty bottles and cans litter the counters and tables – poor Vickie will regret throwing a party when she wakes up tomorrow morning.

Your eyes fall on him, the smug look on his face making you huff in annoyance. Steve enjoys seeing you struggle after what he just did to you, he licks his lips as his eyes run up and down your body, they flash with amusement when they fall on your hand, you see the way his shoulders shake, he is chuckling at you as he plays with the car keys in his hand. Smug bastard.

You roll your eyes at him, and turn away, looking around to see if any of your friends are around, but the only people you see are strangers and a few known faces from school, you sigh in relief, knowing that you won’t have to lie into Eddie’s or Robin’s face. You return your gaze to Steve whose face is suddenly no longer as smug as it was a few seconds ago, his eyes aren’t even on you anymore, but rather on someone behind you as he looks over your shoulder.

Someone calls your name, someone who is the reason for the rage on Steve’s face that you had already seen before.

You turn around when your name is being called again, to find Jacob walking towards you. Oh.

You grow flustered knowing that the fucked out look on your face is so very obvious. You can’t even hide it.

He catches up to you, and he reaches his hand out to place it on your upper arm, “hi, there you are,” he smiles, towering over you. He is tall, much taller than you, even taller than Steve.

You greet him back, forcing a smile.

He furrows his brows as his eyes scan your face, his smile falling a little, a frown appearing instead, “are you okay?” He asks, worriedly. “Do you feel sick?”

You shake your head and open your mouth to speak when the words get stuck in your throat after his hand leaves your arm and comes to rest on your face instead, surprising you and angering Steve.

“Do you need me to take you home?” He asks, caressing your cheek.

You would have moved, but you are frozen in place as you stare at him, completely caught off guard by his action and the look in his eyes.

“I-I…”

A different hand appears on your lower back, one that your body instantly recognizes, because your skin heats up and your chest blooms with warmth – it’s scary how well your body knows him.

Steve pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you, “I got her, she’s in good hands, Leeney.”

Sometimes you wish that he knew how you felt about him, how your heart nearly explodes every time he says something only a boyfriend should say – maybe then, he would take pity on you and your heart.

You melt into his touch, the smell of his cologne is so intoxicating.

Jacob retracts his hand, he looks between you and Steve, his shoulders slumping a little as he steps back, he looks down at you, nodding, “alright.”

“Come on,” Steve murmurs, squeezing your waist as he begins to pull you away, wanting you away from the jock and towards the front door.

“Bye Jacob–”

“Wait,” he rushes forward, and reaches for your hand, placing a folded note into your palm. “Here, I’m not making the same mistake again.” He gives your hand a squeeze and smiles at you, not waiting for your response, he steps away and takes another glance at Steve, before he turns around and leaves.

You stare at the note in your hand, you don’t have to open it to know what’s written on the paper.

You fail to notice the absolute rage in Steve’s eyes, how much more intense it is than before, how tense the muscles in his jaw are, how it takes everything in him not to slam you against the wall and kiss you in front of Jacob and everyone else.

He pulls you out of the house without a single word, he grabs your hand instead as he leads you outside, he shuts the door and the sound of music and the many voices begin to fade away as you both make your way to his car, which he parked on the side of the road.

Your heels click against the cobblestone, your hands hold tightly onto his, you’re quiet, and so is he, but a storm is raging in his mind, and everything he felt before, now feels so much worse.

Can he keep you when there’s other people who want you just as much as he does? – And even, in different, much more intimate ways?

He saw the way Jacob looked at you, he wasn’t only interested in another quick fuck, he wanted more, and it irritates Steve, it makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, it makes his heart clench in his chest – it shouldn’t, there is nothing more between you than this, and yet, he is scared to lose it, the little secret that you both have, he isn’t ready to let it go, he isn’t ready to let you go and watch you fall into someone else arms.

He wants to keep you, and he will do everything to make it stay that way.

He knows that there is only one way to show you that he is the only you will ever need. At least, for now.

He opens the passenger door and lets go of your hand so you can get inside, eying the note that is still in your other hand. He closes the door once you’re seated, and he makes his way around his BMW, when he gets inside as well, he notices the now unfolded note in your lap and the number that’s written on it.

He grits his teeth but bites back his bitter words.

You won’t call him, he will make sure of that.

It’s not easy to focus on the drive when his mind is in such a whirlwind and his eyes keep glancing back at the note in your lap, that you folded back together again.

You aren’t looking at it any longer, your eyes are focused on the road and the passing trees.

“What do you plan to do with that number, Blondie?” He asks, unable to hold back and hide the jealousy this time.

You narrow your eyes at him, taking a look at his hands, you see how hard he is gripping the steering wheel when you take in the sight of his knuckles. The veins in his hands nearly popped. You gulp as your eyes move along his arm, muscles that are hidden beneath the black sleeve of his shirt peeking out just a little, his cheeks are red, his jaw clenched.

He is angry, but a part of you can see through your insecurities.

It’s not only his ego that was bruised, it’s not only the anger that shines through, there is more, so much more.

The jealousy that only you ever felt is lingering in his eyes.

He is jealous.

Steve is jealous over you.

And there is really no reason for him to feel that way, but you can’t stop the rush of excitement and happiness that floods through your body.

If he felt that way before he dragged you into the bathroom, over an innocent conversation, what will he do now that Jacob has made an entirely new move?

Will you get another taste of what he gave you before?

Will he call you baby again?

You’re stepping into a dangerous territory, you know it, but the thrill over it makes heat pool in your stomach.

“I don’t know, Lego Head,” you shrug, trying to keep a straight face as you look at him, “maybe I’ll keep it… You know, for when you don’t answer your phone.” You lie as you pick the note back up.

Steve huffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

He rolls down the window, giving you no time to react, he snatches the note from your hand and wastes no second to throw it out onto the road, letting it get lost in the darkness.

“Hey!” You gasp as your eyes widen.

“Whoops, my hand slipped,” he flashes you an innocent smile as he closes the window again.

“What if I want to call him!?”

Your question makes him grip the wheel even tighter, knuckles turning white.

“You don’t need him,” he mumbles.

You sit up straighter, raising your brows at him, “oh really? I don’t? Why’s that?”

Steve can’t take it any longer, the feelings inside of him boiling over, controlling all his actions now.

He pulls the car off the main road, and drives into the isolated wooded area that leads to a stream, a hidden part of Lovers Lake that he only ever came to when he needed to clear his head.

He slams his foot on the brakes and turns off the car, turning off the lights and unbuckling the seatbelt, he turns to you in anger, “because you literally just said no one can fuck you like I can!”

Your heart begins to race, goosebumps rise on your skin, and you press your palms against the leather seat beneath you. The giddiness inside of you is now so difficult to keep hidden.

“Ah, so that should make you exclusive,” you smirk, tilting your head to the side, “okay, well, maybe he got better–”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence, you don’t get to taunt him anymore as he turns his back to you and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut and rounding the car to get to you, he rips open the door on your side.

“You don’t learn, do you?”

“W-What?”

“Get out.” He demands, not nicely.

You frown at him, watching his stance and how angry he looks at you. “What the fuck–”

“Get out,” he repeats, in a much calmer yet angrier voice.

You shiver at his command, and you take a deep breath as you unfasten your seatbelt, your heels hit the grass as you get out of the car. Steve places his hand on your back and pushes you out of the way so he can close the door before he opens the one to the backseat. He glares into your eyes, “get in.”

Your frown transforms into a look of complete confusion as you look between his hand and the seat that he points at.

“You’re making me change seats?”

He steps closer to you, “get the fuck inside, right now.”

The demanding, aggressive tone in his voice doesn’t make you question him again, you swallow harshly and turn around, you place your hands on the leather seats as you crawl inside, moaning in surprise when he smacks your ass again.

He chuckles darkly behind you, “you really like that huh?”

You glare at him over your shoulder, earning another slap to your other cheek, making you jerk and whine.

He chuckles again and follows you inside, closing the door behind him, “noted.”

The leather beneath you is cold, and you grip it tightly, sucking in a sharp breath, and just as you go to turn around and sit down, Steve’s strong hands grab at your hips, flipping you over and manhandling you underneath his body as he forces you to lie down on your back. He pushes your thighs apart, settling in between them, he presses his palms flat against the seat on both sides of your head.

A shiver runs down your spine, not from fear, but from excitement, because he probably didn’t want you to realize he was jealous, but he is showing you. He is clearly showing you and you can’t help but feel absolutely happy, accomplished.

You know that you’re in for something when you look into his eyes – you can’t even find the right words to describe the emotions that are lingering in them, but they make your inside flutter so wildly, you feel the need to clench your thighs together as he looms over you, but you can’t, he doesn’t let you.

His nose brushes against yours, his hair falls in front of his eyes as he inches closer to you, his breath kissing your skin.

“Has anyone ever put you in your place, Blondie?” He asks as he drums his finger along your shoulder, hooking it around the strap of your dress.

“W-What?” You stutter, hating how weak and shaky your voice sounds.

“I’m taking that as a no.”

Steve drags the strap down, and he leans down to press his lips against your shoulder, “I wanted to be nice, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, “wanted to take care of you, but fuck, you leave me no choice.”

You squirm beneath him, digging your nails into the flesh of your legs as you furrow your brows at his words.

His lips ghost over your collarbone, his hand now pushing your dress down a little, he exposes your chest to him, and he traces the outline of your breast before his fingers pinch your nipple, making you whine again.

“Time for you to understand–” He murmurs as he plants a kiss to your jaw, “-- that I’m the only one you need.”

His movements are soft, his touches are gentle but to your surprise, they don’t stay that way, after a few more kisses, he flips the bottom part of your dress over, bunching it around your waist, he hooks his finger around your panties and tears them off of you, throwing them over his back, not caring where they land. His fingers trace your legs, hands finding their way to your heels, he unfastens the straps around your ankles, and takes them off before he returns his attention to where you need him the most.

He teases you with his fingers, torturing your clit and chuckling darkly at the whines that start filling the space around you.

Steve had been intense and rough before, but one look into his face shows you that you will get more tonight, so much more.

He splits you open with his fingers again, sinking them into your soaked hole, he fucks you with them, he taunts you with his words and sucks more marks onto your skin, littering the other side of your neck and your chest with hickeys. He makes you see stars with the way he curls his digits inside of you and rubs your clit.

To your surprise and confusion, he doesn’t let you cum, he pulls his fingers out and stops touching you when you’re about to fall apart, just like he did before in the bathroom. Nothing like this ever happened before.

You don’t think anything of it at first, not when he seems desperate to fill you up in a different way. He fumbles with his pants and pushes them down, along with his boxers. He rolls a condom over his length again, one of many he has in the glove compartment because sometimes you two don’t even reach a bed when seeing each other, rushing to do it just as he did earlier, your mouth waters at the sight of his leaking, red tip.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist and pulling your weakened body on top of him, you instantly reach for his shoulders, grabbing them tightly as he gives you no time to react before he makes you sink down on his cock – you don’t mind. You are so needy, so wet for him that your juices soak your inner thighs.

But you need to feel his skin on yours, so you reach for the hem of his shirt, and pull it over his head, he leans forward as you rip it off of him. You throw it on the seat and wrap your arms around his naked shoulders, pressing yourself against his hairy chest.

You are the first to start moving, rolling your hips and riding him slowly, but he isn’t satisfied with that, he wants something else, he wants more.

Steve makes you bounce on his dick, he holds your hips harshly and uses you as though you’re a fleshlight, filling you to the brim and slamming you up and down on his dick, fucking you rather disrespectfully.

He makes you fall forward, as your eyes shut at the roughness and the intensity. He is buried so deep inside of you, you’re not sure if you have ever felt this before. Tears blur your vision again that night, moans turn into whimpers and whimpers into cries, the pleasure so strong, so overwhelming.

You throw your hand against the fogged up window, slamming your palm against it, leaving a handprint there for him.

No words escape you, not even his name, the only thing you can do is fall limply against his body and hide your face in the crook of his neck as drool starts coming out of your mouth but the moment it touches his skin, Steve grabs the back of your neck and pulls you back to him again, so he can see your face.

“Does he even get to see you like this?” He grunts, fucking up into you and watching the way you squeeze your crying eyes shut. “Drooling? Crying? I bet I’m the only one you’ve ever been this cock drunk for… aren’t I?”

You nod your head wildly, panting and gasping as pain and pleasure mix together. He thinks it’s just physical, but there is so much more to it. You knew you would turn into this for him and just him, you’ve always known.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Steve lets go of your neck, making you fall back against him, he decides to tease you more by smacking your ass, causing you to jolt and whimper, filling him with satisfaction.

He makes your pleasure the more unbearable, causing you to clench around him.

And just like before, just as you’re so close to reaching your peak, he stops your movements all together, filling you with anger now, making you snap out of the haze he put you into. He stills and grabs you tightly, so you won’t move, he lifts you up and off his cock, biting back a groan.

“W-What the fuck, Steve?” You cry out, “I-I was so close!”

His eyes are nearly unrecognizable when he squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, forcing you to look at him. The angry sight in front of you, only makes you clench around him even harder.

“You’re not cumming until I say so, Blondie.” It was stern, but Steve had a point to make, he needs to make it happen.

You aren’t even aware of what is going on inside of his troubled mind, you could never even guess, not even when he flips you over and throws you down under him, placing your left leg over his shoulder.

The position is quite cramping, but you forget about any kind of pain, when he sinks back inside of you and starts pounding into you with a force that makes the stars shine brighter and your heart race faster.

Steve is not even focused on his pleasure, despite how good you feel around him, all that he can think about is your pleasure. He gives his all, he gives everything to kill any memory of what any of your other hookups did to you, of the pleasure they made you feel, of the pleasure he once made you feel.

He snaps his hips into yours, fucking you so deeply and roughly, making his dick ache in pleasure.

He surely never fucked anyone this way before. He never felt this angry before.

He watches you closely, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, the way you grip the leather beneath you, nearly ripping through it with your nails as tears of pleasure stream down your face and you tilt your head to the side with furrowed brows, your tits bouncing as he slams you back and forth on the seats.

Your moans are so loud that anyone who were to pass by, would freak out and almost faint or call the cops.

He is not even touching your clit, not even grazing it with his fingers, not giving it any pleasure again… yet. But he feels your fluttering walls, how tight you are getting around him, how high pitched your moans are getting – you are close, so close.

And so is he, he keeps thrusting in and out of you, not tearing his eyes off of your beautiful face as he chases his own high, roughly and deeply. Your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as he finishes into the condom, groaning as your walls grip him tightly.

Steve pulls out of you reluctantly, stopping your pleasure once again.

He pulls your leg off his shoulder gently and places it back on the seat, giving it a squeeze.

His chest heaves up and down, he breathes heavily as he stares at you, biting back the chuckle when your eyes shoot open and a bewildered look crosses your face, the tears in your eyes still shining brightly as you raise yourself up on your elbows, frowning angrily at him.

“You– I’m going to fucking kill you, Steve, it’s not fair!” Your bottom lip trembles, you are clearly very frustrated with him.

He looks down to hide the amusement on his face, taking the condom off, he ties it up and throws it on the ground, making a mental note to throw it away later on.

Steve tugs himself back into his boxers and pulls his pants up, not bothering with his belt just yet.

He shakes his head at you when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding yourself from him. He hooks his hands around your knees, pulling you closer against him before he tears them apart again, exposing your glistening swollen pussy to him.

He licks his lips as he hooks your leg around his hip, holding it there as brings his other hand back to your center, he bites down on his lip, looking at you with mischief in his eyes as he delivers a slap to your clit.

“Wha– Steve!” You gasp in surprise and if he weren’t so determined, so centered on you, he would have been surprised by his action too.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, using his pointer finger to tease your slit, he spreads your folds apart, and slips his middle finger and ring finger into your sopping pussy, he focuses on your face.

Your angry features slowly relax again, mouth parting as he starts to move his fingers again, this time he does aim for your orgasm… and more.

He moves slowly at first, rocking his fingers in and out of you, moaning himself at the noises he draws from your pussy.

Despite the pleasure that you’re falling back into again, you grow flustered at the noises and raise your hands up to your face, covering it and hiding yourself from him, but your action only earns you another slap to your clit.

“Uh uh,” Steve shakes his head at you, letting go of your leg, he reaches forward and grabs both of your wrists with one hand, dragging your hands away from your face, ��don’t hide from me.”

“But–”

He curls his fingers into your g-spot, tearing a gasp from you.

“No buts,” he grumbles, as he moves steadily, fingering your pussy roughly now. He angles his hand differently, the end of his palm now brushing against your aching clit every time he thrusts his fingers deeply into you.

He shuts you up quickly, making every word, every sentence get caught in your throat.

His left hand fondles your boobs, your waist, your stomach, your hip – he touches you everywhere, leaving every inch of your skin burning with desire. His fingertips dig deeply into your leg as he keeps you spread open, his thigh keeping your other leg from closing, as he abuses your cunt with his fingers that are much longer than your own.

Your back arches in pleasure, your sensitive core crying for more.

The feeling inside of you is different, new, but you aren’t surprised by it, he edged you three or four times tonight, tears of frustration fell from your eyes, those tears that are now caused by pleasure and sensitivity.

Your whimpers are so erotic to him, just like the wetness he can hear as he is knuckles deep inside of you, stretching you open. He can see the goosebumps on your skin and the way your stomach tenses up, the way your breathing stutters.

You are in bliss, he can see it on your face, there is not a single thought in that pretty head of yours.

He leans down, pressing into you as he inches closer to your face, pecking your lips, “no one else can make you feel like this… no one.” He whispers against your lips, placing another kiss upon them before he moves to your marked up neck, ghosting over it and inching down to your chest, trailing kisses along the way to your boobs. He wraps his lips around your nipple, looking up at you, he begins to suck, adding more pleasure to your body.

You belong to him.

“Steve!” You whimper, throwing your hands into his hair, you let your fingers get lost in it.

He moans against you, quickening the pace of his fingers, curling them even harder inside of you, making you shudder at the feeling, jolting even when he presses his thumb against your swollen clit.

You tremble beneath him, the wave of pleasure being so strong that a sob falls from your lips, your fingers curling into his hair roughly, “fuck… baby,” you whine.

A surprised whimper falls from his own lips, the nickname stopping every thought in his mind, for a second.

Baby, Baby, Baby…

No one has ever called him that, no one. The fact that you are the first, somehow makes it better, and he doesn’t even know why.

The coil inside of you grows bigger and bigger, an unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your lower stomach, making drool form on your tongue and stars blur your vision. Your nerves feel as though they are on fire, your skin prickling as he fucks you roughly.

“I-I’m so close,” you whimper and scrunch your face up as you move your hips a little, meeting his thrusts.

He is so lost in you and your moans, he doesn’t even realize that he is biting, tugging on your nipple with his teeth until a new, higher moan escapes you.

“O-Oh my god,” you whisper shakily as your eyes roll back, “S-Steve! That feels so good!”

“Yeah?” He murmurs against you, lips returning to your neck, he pecks it a few times as he looks down, watching the way your thighs tremble, the way the muscles in your stomach tense so tightly and your chest rises up and down so much heavier than before, “your thighs are shaking so much… holy shit.”

The pressure inside of you becomes so overwhelming, it feels a lot, it feels too much.

“S-Steve,” you tremble, “t-that feels weird.”

Your voice sounds so small, unsure, yet the moans won’t stop escaping you.

“No, baby, you’re doing so good,” he whispers as he lets go of your leg, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, he wipes your tears and brushes your hair out of your face, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip, “just trust me… let go for me.”

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, not even when he starts peppering your face with kisses.

The pleasure is too much, the pressure makes you panic slightly, but he doesn’t stop, if anything, he fucks you harder and faster with his fingers, keeping them curled inside of you, his palm keeps brushing your overstimulated clit. He is hoping to get what he has been seeking. You haven’t trembled this much before, and he is confident, he is so confident that you won’t forget this, that you won’t forget how he made you feel, that you won’t forget him.

“C’mon,” he murmurs against your lips, “I know you want to.”

Your bottom lip shakes, the pressure threatening to explode inside of you, every inch of your body now burning and quivering.

You let go of his hair and throw your hand down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, your eyes open, and you look at him through your blurry vision.

Your moans and the squelching that gets louder and louder, sounds that are like music to his ears, making his stomach flutter and his dick twitch again – to his own surprise.

“I-I can’t– too much, Steve!” You whine, nearing an edge you have never touched before, “I’m gonna–”

You never get to finish your sentence, because as Steve plunges his fingers in even deeper, and curls them harder. You can only throw your head back, a mix between a squeal and a whimper falling.

Steve nearly stops all of his movements when you clench around his fingers like a vice.

Your hips jerk upwards as liquids shoot out of you, and he gets to where he wanted.

“H-Holy shit–”

Steve’s eyes widen, a chuckle of amusement and excitement leaving his lips, he stares at you in awe. Surprised at the tent in his pants, he is rock hard again.

He keeps pounding his fingers in and out of you, not stopping his movements just yet. With a smirk, he leans down to kiss your cheek, cooing at you, “you’re such a good girl for me.” He says possessively.

Your walls unclench around him, and he thinks it’s all, when you suddenly clench again, tighter than before, another shockwave rushes through your body, and you squirt even more, the leather beneath you becoming even wetter than before.

Steve’s hand is drenched, up to his elbow, and so is the front of his jeans, his stomach and the window behind him. The evidence of how good he made you feel is all over his seats, filling him with pride.

A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, he feels like he’s on top of the world, he feels like a fucking king again, knowing that he brought such pleasure to your body.

He never even thought that this was possible, that this move in porn movies is nothing but a myth, but he had to try, he had to try it with you. It would have shamed him before to admit he had been watching more porn than usual just to do the things he sees with you, but now? He feels like he is the most intelligent person in the world.

Your body falls limp, whines and whimpers still filling the space around you, tears roll down your cheek as you’re trying to catch your breath.

Steve pats your cheek, caressing it gently as he stares at you fondly, “hey, are you okay?” He whispers, unable to stop himself from pecking your lips.

You nod weakly, still needing a moment to come down from the high.

He keeps kissing you, playing with your hair as he caresses your skin, pulling his fingers out of you after a while, making you whine again.

You open your eyes, struggling to keep them open after the intense orgasm you just had. You look into his eyes, they’re filled with victory. A proud smile playing on his lips.

You raise your eyebrows when you notice the drops on the window, the wet seats, his soaked hands and the wetness beneath you.

Heat rushes up to your cheeks, embarrassment rushes through you and you can’t help but gasp as you look around the mess that you made. Tears blur your vision, “o-oh my god!” You say weakly, shakily as you start crying, catching him off guard, “I-I’m so sorry, Steve!”

You press your palms against the wet seats and push to sit up.

Steve shakes his head at you, he cups your cheeks and shushes you by kissing your lips again, “fuck, Blondie, don’t cry – holy shit, that was so fucking hot,” he chuckles, “it’s just leather, sweetheart. And honestly, this feels like a fucking victory to me.”

You blink through your tears, looking at him with big and glassy eyes, your heart still pounds in your chest, shame swirling deeply in your chest.

“Really?”

He nearly faints at the look in your eyes.

Who would’ve thought that Steve would ever get to see you like this or that he’d get to be the one to make you come undone so intensely?

You are so vulnerable, right now. It tugs at his heartstrings, knowing that you struggle with emotions, that you hate showing weakness and tears – yet here you are, even if it’s only out of shame, it shows him that you trust him, even if only a little.

You’re unaware of the fluttering in his chest that you cause, the warmth around his heart as he stares at you. He traces your cheek before he slips his hands down to your waist.

You look so fucking cute.

How can he not adore you when you look at him like this?

He gulps as he is completely aware of the way his heart feels.

You’re going to be a problem, that’s for sure – but he can’t find it in himself to care, not now.

He sits back and pulls you along with him, dragging you into his lap, he surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shaking, hot body. He pulls you into him so he can hug you, he cups the back of your head and makes you relax against his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, feeling the need to treat you gently, sweetly.

Your breath hitches in your throat, his actions doing nothing to calm your racing heart.

It takes you a moment, but eventually, you calm down and close your eyes as you bury your face in his bare chest, his hair tickling your cheek a little. Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, making your heart race.

Your body is aching, your legs are trembling, you nearly squeal when his crotch brushes against your center as you try to move closer to him.

“Wait,” he whispers, he grabs your waist again and changes your position, moving both of your legs over his thighs instead, so you don’t have to straddle him, and then, he pulls you back into his chest again. He brushes his fingers against your upper arm, stroking your skin softly, “is that better?”

You nod.

“Good,” he whispers, letting all his emotions guide him as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Y-You made me squirt,” you whisper, blushing.

He chuckles, looking down at you and the way your cheek is pressed against his chest, “yeah Blondie, I made you squirt. I never did that in my life, you never did that in your life, we should put a memory plaque here.”

Finally, a giggle falls from your lips, and you look up at him, amusement shining in your eyes.

“I need a shower and sleep for like… three days straight.”

Steve chuckles, squeezing you tighter, he finds himself liking the feeling of holding you this way, he can’t help but want to pull you closer.

“I’m happy to provide all that for you,” he smiles down at you.

Steve likes to see you in his clothes, he likes it when you take showers at his place and make his bathroom smell like your shampoo and your sweet body wash.

He missed it last night.

He clears his throat, his smile falling a bit, “why didn’t you uh… call me the past two days?”

You hesitate, not wanting to show your face to him, you keep your head down.

“Oh uh… I felt sick, nauseous, probably because of something I ate, maybe it was Eddie’s attempt at the homemade burrito…”

Steve’s mind was plagued with ugly thoughts after seeing you with Jacob, but this is beginning to ease his mind a little.

“Wait so,” he blinks, sitting up straighter as he continues to look down at you, “you were home?”

You nod, meeting his eyes, “where else would I be?”

It’s not exactly a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either. You had an appointment in the morning, one that you had been nervously awaiting for weeks.

The tension that remained leaves his body completely now, relief rushes through him, making him relax fully.

“I thought… since Jacob was back–”

Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen, before a smile appears on your lips.

“Aw, is Stevie jealous and worried that someone is going to take his place?” You ask him, taunting him a little.

Yeah, he actually is.

But he can’t tell you that, can he?

He pinches your ass with his fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips, “don’t get all bratty now, or I will show you how no one can replace me… again.”

You’re a little taken aback by all the comments, by his actions today, by the softness of his touch, right now. He didn’t fight you on it. He just told you to not be bratty instead of telling you to stop thinking that way.

Today, he treated you as though you were his.

He acted out of jealousy and was possessive over you, and in the end, he pulled you into his arms, treating you with such gentleness that it will surely leave a stain in your heart forever.

This is dangerous, he is dangerous.

He is giving you a glimpse of something that you will never have.

He is showing you colors, you can’t ever see with anyone else.

And maybe, this should be enough to make you run into safety, to protect your heart from the pain it will suffer when it’s all over.

But in what world, would you ever run from him?

You know how this will end, but it won’t stop you from kissing his lips and letting him into you.

He can break your heart and shatter your soul for all you care.

It’s all his anyway.

Eddie looked all over for you, the backyard, the kitchen, even the bathroom and the bedrooms, he was sick with worry as he searched for you. He got distracted when Robin forced him into a game of beer pong, with Argyle and Vickie, and lost sight of you.

The girl ended up calming him down, when she told him that Steve took you home, you looked sick apparently. But Eddie knows better than that.

He knows deep in his gut that his suspicions were right, that he wasn’t thinking into it too deeply.

On his way out of Vickie’s house, he bumps into someone, turning around to apologize, he finds a very drunk Jacob, he raises his hands up, slurring out an apology, but then a confused frown appears on his face when he seems to recognize him.

“Munson, you’re friends with her, right?”

“Huh, with who?” Eddie mumbles, tilting his head.

Jacob says your name and Eddie blinks a few times and slowly nods, “best friends actually, what of it?”

The tall jock smells like beer and weed mixed together as he steps closer, invading his space a little.

“Well, I mean, is she dating Harrington or something?” Jacob asks, shaking his head.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, curiosity sparking inside of him.

“Um…” He could say no, he definitely could, but Jacob seems like a source of information right now, and he decides to use this opportunity to find out more, “what makes you think that?”

“Well, the fact that this guy cockblocked me two times tonight is the main one. Tried flirting with her and he just pulled her away and even dared to glare at me as if I were the one interrupting his conversation, man." Jacob is slurring, rambling, and he just looks like a guy that lost the opportunity, not someone who would push you into a date or something.

But Eddie is stunned by the revelation, so he pressed forward.

“Two times?”

“Yeah, the first one he took her somewhere as soon as I started talking to her, and the next he interrupted us so he could leave with her... Say sorry to Harrington for me, she didn't tell me she was dating him,” he mumbles, waving his hand as he rolls his eyes and steps.

Eddie’s gears work, trying to figure out a way to confirm all of this, but for now, the information is enough, his suspicions only growing with certainty. A small honest smile appears on his face and he pats Jacob on the shoulder.

“Thank you Leeney. I'll make sure to let Stevie know.”

The blond nods and steps away, giving him a weak smile before he walks off, leaving Eddie by himself.

His dark brown eyes flash with understanding and realization, a laugh of disbelief falling from his lips as he puts all the puzzle pieces together.

He brings his hand up to his chin and shakes his head when he thinks of the marks on both yours and Steve’s skin.

A scoff falls from Eddie’s lips.

“Chandler and Heidi, right.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @joekeerysmoles @ibellcipem @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn628 @corrodedcorpses @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars

#my writing ♡#dwoht #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #stranger things angst

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angeldreamsoffanfic · 2 years ago

Text

“What’s the deal with you and Harrington?”

Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.

They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.

“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.

“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”

“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”

“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”

“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.

“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”

“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”

“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.

“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”

“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.

“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”

“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.

“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”

“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”

“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.

“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”

“And that’s when you became best friends?”

“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”

“Platonic with a capital P?”

Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.

“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.

When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.

“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.

Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.

It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.

He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.

---

this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

now with a part two! click here

#angeldreamsoffanfic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #platonic stobin #background jargyle #background ronance #but it’s pre every relationship #steve harrington and robin buckley are bffs #robin would die for steve #steve harrington has bad parents #but jim hopper adopts him because i said so #steve and eleven have a sibling bond #he’s the only one allowed to call her ellie by the way #this is gonna become an ao3 fic i think

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year ago

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Good People - Final Part

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

It is not often that Wayne is happy with the monotony of work. Tonight is one of those nights, if only because it allows him to think about where he went wrong speaking to Eddie. He had never meant to imply he thought Eddie was like Al; he'd meant the apple and tree comment to for Richard and Steve. However, he does acknowledge why Eddie drew the conclusion that Wayne might have thought Eddie would follow in Al's footsteps.

Wayne's being a hypocrite, applying the logic to one boy, but not the other. And even though he never, not once, thought that Eddie would become Al, he'll never be able to take that thought from Eddie's mind that he had. He can apologize until he's blue in the face, Eddie might even forgive him, but he's not sure Eddie will ever believe him. Not truly.

And how could Wayne expect him to?

No. That's a shame Wayne will take to the grave.

Next strike to Wayne's conscious; the misjudgment of Steve Harrington, and how it ties into the fact Eddie accused him of not trusting his judgement, and, moreover, Eddie being right. Wayne hadn't trusted in Eddie's trust of Steve.

He should have. It's been years since Eddie came home crying about a boy, but what father doesn't see their kid crying over their first heartbreak and doesn't grow protective? And with Eddie, it's even more terrifying. Getting mixed up with the wrong boy could mean bruised ribs, black eyes, or worse.

In a town like Hawkins, a boy would just have to claim Eddie made a sexual advance and his murder could (would) be justified.

Now add the manhunt and being suspected of murderer to that. Well, Wayne's scared for Eddie's life almost every minute of his day.

But it's no excuse. Or if it is, it's a poor one.

Wayne doesn't know the full story but he does know that Steve was with the group of people on Eddie's side; that he was there with the Henderson kid, the Buckley girl, and Nancy Wheeler, digging Eddie out of the rubble from the earthquake, getting him to the hospital as fast as they could.

Steve Harrington was part of the group that saved Eddie's life, and that should have meant more to begin with. Instead, Wayne's been waiting for a shoe to drop that very well isn't coming.

He's going to fix this.

He'll give Eddie his space to be angry with him, and he'll try again in a few days.

When Wayne gets home, around 6:30am, Eddie's van is gone. He's not surprised. He probably left shortly after Wayne did, not leaving sooner just to avoid him.

There is a note on Wayne's bed when he makes it there. Says he's at Steve, and instead of letting Wayne know when he'll return it just says the words 'be back' followed by a bunch of questions marks. He ends it with 'call if worried' and leaves a phone number that must be for the Harrington residence.

Another hurt Wayne can't blame on anyone but himself.

Wednesday passes. Wayne eats breakfast, goes grocery shopping, pretends to care about his shows before sleeping the afternoon away to prepare for another graveyard. Eddie has not returned when he wakes, and two short hours later, he's off to work.

Eddie's van remains gone.

Returns from work Thursday morning and repeats Wednesday. He replaces grocery shopping with laundry and cleaning out the leftovers for trash day tomorrow morning. Goes to work.

Friday morning he returns home. No Eddie. He waits for it to be a more appropriate time, a little before 10:00am to call the number Eddie left.

It rings, rings, rings, then, a voice he hasn't heard in years. Richard Harrington's voice sounds as cold as it always was as the answering machine recites, "You've reached the Harrington's. We are not available. Leave a message."

"This is Wayne Munson. I just wanted to make sure Eddie's- that's he's alright. Let him know that I called. Checked on him. He doesn't need to call back but I'd appreciate it."

He hangs up the phone, lump in his throat. He misses his boy, and he wants to make his right, but he can't force that. Eddie has to always want to make it okay between them.

He's usually off Fridays, but he asked to pick up a shift. He can't face Linda without having fixed this. He spends the morning and afternoon doing all the small fixes he'd been putting off. Anything to keep him busy. He goes to sleep at his usual time, and wakes up two hours before his shift like normal.

Check's his answering machine but if anyone called while he was asleep, they didn't leave a message. There's still no van when he heads to work.

The plant tells him to leave an hour early. He tries to argue to stay but he's just waved off, told to go get some sleep because he's been looking a little worse for the wear.

He gets back to Forest Hills around 5:40am and finds there is another car parked at his home. Not Eddie's van, but the sleek maroon BMW that belongs to Steve Harrington parked where the van usually is.

When he pulls into his spot, the headlights of his truck light up Steve, sitting on his steps, wrapped in a coat. It can't be more than 50℉ outside right now.

Steve stands as Wayne cuts the engine and climbs from his truck. He gets to the front of his truck and Steve speaks.

"Eddie's okay," Steve says, hands shoving deep into his pockets, "I tried to get him to call you back yesterday but, well, you know Eddie."

Wayne nods, because he does know Eddie. "I appreciate you tellin' me. But you coulda just called."

"I could have."

They look at each other for a moment, and just as Steve opens his mouth, probably to tell Wayne he's going to go, Wayne speaks first, "you wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee to warm up?"

Steve tilts his head slightly to the left before he says, "are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright," and then Steve steps away from the stairs so Wayne can climb them and let them into the trailer. Steve follows behind silently but with familiarity. He's spent so much of his time here since spring break- the shame crawls through Wayne again. He'd assumed, once upon a time, that Eddie and Steve spent more time here than at Steve's because why would Steve want the trailer park boy in his big fancy house? Now, though, he wonders if it's because this place felt more like a home, even with Wayne's cold shoulder.

Steve sits at their little kitchen table, a luxury they didn't have before because there was no room in the single wide, one bedroom they'd had before. The new double wide (with three bedrooms) offered them a bit more space for a dining area.

Wayne's still suspicious of the government's offer to replace their destroyed home, but he wasn't foolish enough to deny the offer when it was made to him by Jim Hopper (newly returned from the dead back then).

"How do you take your coffee?" Wayne asks, once the machine finishes filling the carafe.

"Oh, I can fix it-"

"Nonsense," Wayne waves him back to sitting, "just tell me."

"I like it with just enough milk to take the scalding heat out of it," Steve says, and while Wayne's not sure just how much that it, he tries anyway.

He sets a cup in front of Steve before taking a seat across from him. "I really do appreciate that you came to tell me Eddie's okay. I want to give him his space but...."

Steve sips his coffee before shooting his cup a small smile. Wayne must have got the ratio right. Then, he looks to Wayne and the smile drops, a more serious expression taking its place and he says, "Eddie wouldn't really tell me what your fight was about, other than, uh, me and that you... overheard some of what I said last time I was here. I don't, like, want to come between you and Eddie, but I'm not, I'm not going to let you scare me away. So, just tell me what I have to do to get Eddie to believe we're cool, and I'll do it. Anything, except for getting out of Eddie's life. 'Cause I won't."

"I would never ask you to do that," Wayne says. Steve squints at him, a look of suspicion now. Completely warranted, given what Steve has known of Wayne thus far. "I owe you an apology, Steve. For how I've been treatin' you."

Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh. What? Why?"

"You've been nothin' but good to Eddie. For Eddie. And I refused to see that. I made a judgment about you without knowin' anything but your name." Steve let's out a soft 'oh' at that, but Wayne plows on, "And that weren't fair, and it weren't right. I can't undo it, but I want you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Steve says, after a moment. "I forgive you."

It's Wayne's turn to be surprised. He's a bit speechless. So much so, he takes a page right out of Eddie's book and asks, "are you sure?" which is a question he's never asked after having an apology accepted before, but one Eddie had asked a lot when he first came to live with Wayne, and they were learning to co-exist.

"Yeah. I get it."

He doesn't like that answer. Doesn't like the he contributed to the mind set that gave Steve that answer. "You're allowed to be mad at me for it."

"I think Eddie's mad enough for both of us."

It doesn't feel like closure. It doesn't feel like forgiveness, but Wayne doesn't know what to say. He can't just start sprouting all the bad things he thought about Steve; there's no reason Steve should have to listen to that. But without hearing it, Steve doesn't even know what he's forgiving Wayne for. "I'll be honest with ya, Steve. It feels like you shouldn't."

Steve frowns at him. "Why?"

Why? Why? For all the reasons Eddie yelled at him, and all the things Linda said, and all the agony he's felt these last few days. The guilt and the shame that still eat at him, even as Steve Harrington says he forgives him. "It's too easy."

Those three words have Steve leaning back against the chair. His eyes dance around Wayne's face before taking in the whole of him. Or, what Steve can see of him with from across the table. When Steve meets his eye again, Wayne sees recognition there. "If you can't forgive yourself, I get that. I do. I-I've spent most of my life as one big apology. And I'm not saying that I, like, don't still feel like- what I mean to say, is that, I forgive you. I'm not, like, gonna hold it against you that you were just trying to look out for Eddie, man. Like, two years ago your fears would have been justified, so."

"Don't make it right," Wayne argues, but he doesn't know why.

"No," Steve agrees, "but I'm forgiving you anyway. You think you're the first person to hear the name Steve Harrington and assume you know everything you need to know about me already?"

Steve's words sound like they could be confrontational, but his tone is light. Teasing? Wayne says, "no. Suppose I'm not."

"Every person I love has done that," Steve says, and the ease of which he says that has Wayne feeling some sort of way. Eddie's words echo in his mind 'you made me help him feel that way'. How many other people have made him feel like he's a bad person? "Even- even Eddie. He made a point, during spring break, to, uh, well, he didn't apologize for anything because there was nothing to apologize about, but he made a point to tell me I was very 'metal' and a 'cool dude' so.... I know my name comes with, like, a shadow or a curse or whatever. I think it will for as long as I live in Hawkins, but that's," Steve flaps his hand in the air, as if that fills in for the word he can't find, and it's a move so reminiscent of Eddie. "Anyway, if you aren't actually, like, ready to accept an apology, you shouldn't be making one."

Wayne sits in that for a moment. There's a lot more to Steve Harrington than he'd ever thought. So much he doesn't know, actually, but he thinks he's okay with learning more. This boy told Eddie he was half-way in love with him earlier this week, and while Wayne never heard Eddie say it back, he knew anyway. It's why he was so protective. "You're pretty wise for your age."

Steve grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that last part was all Robin. She says it all the time to me."

"Well, then you best stop apologizing when you ain't ready to accept the forgiveness," Wayne parrots back the words.

Steve throws his head back and laughs.

They finish their coffee with silence and small talk. Steve tells him about how he never thought he'd miss his job at the video store but working at Melvald's is making him long for the days when the biggest complaint was late fees. Apparently, there's so many more things to complain about in retail.

Wayne talks about working at the plant and how the tasks are repetitive and a bit labor intensive, but the graveyard pay is worth it. Steve asks him a few more questions about working at the plant that Wayne's happy to answer and the more Steve asks, the more Wayne becomes aware that Steve might be looking for a change of occupation. He makes a mental note to put in a good word to Floyd, just in case.

Steve leaves with the promise of returning with Eddie, as soon as possible. As he was heading to the door, Wayne asked why he showed up so early.

"Eddie can't stop me if he's not awake," was Steve's answer, a mischievous grin on his face.

Wayne watches from the porch as Steve backs out. Steve shoots him one last little wave with his fingers before heading away.

He goes back inside and washes the dishes. Even dries and puts them away, a feat usually done once a week; he and Eddie have no qualms with using dishes directly from the dish drainer. His only other chore for the day is leaving for work a bit early so he has time to stop at the gas station and fill up the truck.

Grabbing the remote from its spot on the coffee table, Wayne plops onto the couch to spend his day as mindlessly as possible with some TV.

He goes to sleep at his usual time and wakes up at 7:43pm according to his alarm clock; a little over two hours before his shift is to start. It's time for more coffee, he thinks as he dresses for work before heading to the kitchen.

He jerks to a stop when he sees Eddie and Steve sitting on the couch, leaned close and talking softly. He's not about to repeat a past mistake, so he makes his presence known. "Evenin' boys."

Eddie pops up from the couch quick as lightning, taking a few steps towards Wayne before stopping. "I don't like being mad at you."

Wayne nods, "I don't much like you bein' mad at me, either. For what it's worth, I am sorry."

Eddie closes the distance between them, then, and pulls Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne returns it instantly, how can he not? He hears Eddie say, softly, "it's worth an awful lot, you terrible old man."

They part, and Eddie speaks first, "but if you ever pull shit like this again, I won't be so quick to forgive."

"I won't," Wayne says, at the same time Steve says, "he won't."

Both Munsons look at Steve, who grins back at them.

"You think you know my uncle that well already, from one shared cup of coffee?" Eddie asks, sounding amused.

Steve shrugs, "no. I just, uh, plan to stick around, y'know. Kinda hoping there's no dude after me for him to be an angry dad about. I would appreciate it, though, Mr. Munson, if you'd skip the shovel talk bit of all this?"

Eddie sucks in a breath and Wayne's a bit shocked by what Steve's implied. What Steve's admitted, really, out loud in front of another person. Wayne wonders if any boy Eddie's ever liked before would have done that.

"What good's a shove talk when you've already told me you ain't goin' anywhere?" Wayne says, hoping his tone is as light and teasing as he wants it to be.

"Glad we're on the same page," Steve agrees, "but, uhh, do you want me to go? So you can have a real talk?"

"No," says Eddie.

"No," says Wayne, at the same time.

"Oh. Okay. Uh, in that case, you got anything to drink here besides coffee?"

Wayne nods and they all pile into the kitchen to get a beverage before settling in the living room. There will be time to talk later, Wayne realizes. He's going to apologize properly.

Later, though, when he'll really be ready to accept Eddie's forgiveness, because there's no doubt Eddie'll forgive him. So, he's going to sit in the living room and chat with his boys until he has to go to work.

By the time Friday comes around again, he'll be able to tell Linda she was right, everything's going to be okay one day, and maybe ask her on a date he's been putting off asking for since high school.

Done!! I hope the ending is sufficiently cheesy.

I'm so sorry if I missed you! There were a lot of people asking to be tagged haha

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @kaij-basil-lionelli88 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mugloversonly @limpingpenguin @krazyperson @acrolius @salisbury-at-the-stake @littlebookworm86 @savedbytheirmusic @wxrmland @myownworstenemyyy @thelittleclare @awkotaco24 @djohawke @wrenisflying @croatoan-like-its-hot @actualwakingnightmare @krowepoison @jamieweasley13 @yourmom-isgay @irregular-child @oldwitcheshat @abstractnaturaldisaster @wishiwasacasualfan @vinteraltus @zerokrox-blog @warlordess @stevesbipanic @steveshairspray @slowandsteddie @samsoble @waelkyring @just-a-tiny-void @saramelaniemoon @halfadoginatank @nightmareglitter @scarletyeager @hellfireone @rovia2312 @munsonslure @a-little-unsteddie @soaringornithopter @eddiethehunted @starlight-archer @dryptid @inkjette

#steddie #my fic #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne pov #was this resolved on a quicker timeline than makes sense for men in the 80s?#maybe. but i dont care because if i wanted realism i would be asking my dad about the gripes and grudges he holds against his dad #(he was a teenager in the 80s)#but i wanted soft munson family vibes so you are all welcome for that #also please know that eddies not magically over it.#it's been four days of steve pestering him and reminding him that wayne loves him and he loves wayne #sorta edited. if u see a mistake no you didnt #OH NO I FORGOT THE READ MORE IM SO SORRY. added now

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sagesskies · 6 months ago

Text

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʙᴜʟʟʏ

✒ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ

☏ - ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɢᴜʏ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ʙᴜʟʟʏ??? ʟᴍᴀᴏ… ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱꜱʜᴏʟᴇ……. ɪ'ʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴇɴꜱᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɢᴀʙᴇ ɢᴜʏꜱ ꜰʀꜰʀ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɴᴏɴᴄᴏɴ, ʜᴏᴍᴏᴘʜᴏʙɪᴀ, ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄʏ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴇxᴘʟɪ��ɪᴛ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ (ʙʏ ᴀ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ), ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ, ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟᴜʀꜱ, ʀᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ ᴄᴀᴍᴇᴏ, ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱʟɪᴅᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜱᴋʙᴏx ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ

Yandere Best Friend who was the king of the school, ruling over his subjects with an iron fist. They kissed his feet, and in turn he'd shove them into lockers when he felt grouchy and have them fetch his cigarettes so the teachers wouldn't know they were his.

Yandere Best Friend who was once your best friend. Your ride or die who would have your back even when he acted like a complete ass sometimes. Sure he was wicked and cruel, but never to you.

Yandere Best Friend who always kept you close, closer than Harry, closer than Hannah. He would pick you up from your house, he would eat at your table and welcome you to eat at his own. You would spend nights in his room, never on his bed, of course. But he'd take the initiative and set out an inflatable mattress for you, which was more than he'd ever do for the other guys who he'd leave to sleep on the cold hard floor.

Yandere Best Friend who you absolutely despised. Seriously, just the sight of him was enough to ruin your day. This wasn't petty envy– okay, well maybe it was. Just a bit. You hated how your parents blindly adored and praised him (“Why can't you just be more like Richard?”), you hated how you were known first and foremost as his best friend, Richard's cheerful little lapdog. You hated how you spent so much of your life at his beck and call, because what else were you supposed to do? Ignore him? Fuck. Even as kids, that would be social suicide.

Yandere Best Friend who liked you more than you thought you did. He was always weirdly drawn to you, in the same way a starving dog would be to a rare bone thrown it's way. Hungry, possessive, and greedy. You reasoned it as something like imprinting, you were his first real friend. Not a mindless follower in awe of his assertive charisma. But somebody who he initially perceived as an equal. You say initially, because at this point he sees you less as an equal and more of an extension of himself, like a nice watch he can't bear to take off.

You only truly discovered how deep this went when he learned you and Harry were sleeping together.

Really it was Harry's fault.

You were supposed to go have dinner with Richard's family at their place, a monthly tradition both your parents established when you two were young and have since kept up without fail. But then he yelled for you outside your window, and, well… he was still wet from his shower and you could never resist him when he was wearing his letterman jacket.

That was when it started, you think. The first little clue in Richard's very own Nancy Drew mystery that has led him to slamming your bedroom door open on a Friday night while your parents are out of town.

“Jesus, ever learned how to knock?” You place a hand to your chest and act shocked, like swinging the door open like a battering ram wasn't a regular occurence.

Usually Richard would respond with teasing, jokingly apoligzing for startling your poor, weak heart or for attacking your sensitive ears with such a loud noise. You never liked it, but you heard it so much at this point that it stopped bothering you a long time ago.

“What the fuck is up with you and Harry?”

‘You and Harry’. Three words you used to be afraid hearing in one go. You still are. Whenever somebody would say, “I saw you and Harry,” you would force a smile on your face and respond with, “Really?”

But this is a different question. “What is up with you and Harry?”

Your mind can only come up with one answer as to why Richard asked this question and that alone is to send you into panic mode.

But you simply raise your brow, “Uh, nothing? Is this about the brownies? Sorry if I gave him extra but you didn't finish your share so if it's anybody's fault it's yours–”

“This isn't about your shit brownies [Name]—”

You gasp, once again pressing a hand to your chest, making sure to exaggerate your expression, but not too much, just enough to look convincing, “How dare you! You said you loved them—”

“Well I lied, idiot,” Richard's gaze hardened, he crossed his arms as he stood over you while you sat cross legged on your bed, “And don't change the subject!”

You raise your hands in faux-surrender and try to look like your feelings have been hurt, “I wasn't! You shit talked my brownies– which I'm not gonna forgive by the way— and I just defended them like any normal person would.”

“So yeah, Richard, we are staying on subject! The subject is simply about my amazing brownies and your crappy taste buds.”

Richard’s nostrils flare in exasperation. He curses under his breath while he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a polaroid picture which he then shoves at your chest. You look at the picture, and you can't restrain yourself from releasing the ensuing gasp.

It was you and Harry, in Harry's car at night parked near the lake on the outskirts of town, making out under the cover of darkness.

“Woah, holy shit– Harry's gay?!”

“You're making out with him in the picture–”

“Nahhh, that's not me bro! I was out… fishing with my… great uncle.”

“Your great uncle died two years ago.”

“Well, I have another great uncle, and he's in tip top shape. Asshole.”

“You have the same baseball hat you're wearing in that picture.”

“...No I don't.”

Richard stares at you, then silently points to an identical hat on your bedside table.

“That's not mine. I borrowed it from Steve.”

“Fucker, I gave you that for your fifteenth birthday.”

—

Richard always knew something wasn't right with you.

Listen, he didn't believe in whatever bullshit Father Callahan spewed from his mouth. Gay guys were freaks of nature, sure, but they weren't sent by the devil.

But you were an exception. Shit, with the way you made him feel maybe you were a little succubus made to take him off the righteous path or whatever.

Ever since you guys were kids he's always felt this uncontrollable desire to have absolute and complete control over your entire being. Richard doesn't know to describe it as anything other than an almost instinctual impulse, the universe telling him that you were meant to be his when he was still too young to understand.

Still. He thought that you would have standards. Richard could see the common sense in wanting to bone, whenever he got to get it on with Hannah he was in bliss even if she wasn't you, but for you to choose Harry. The spoiled little wuss Harold Kelly, instead of him?

He treated you better than the rest, but he had limits. Limits you overstepped. It's only fair that you're going to get punished.

“Ahaha… uh, are you sure that's me and Harry in that picture…?”

Richard clicks his tongue. When would you understand that there was no use denying it?

“That is literally Harry's exact plate number on that car.”

Your shoulders slump, and Richard feels a mix of dread and satisfaction at the resigned expression on your face. Satisfaction because he won. Dread because his worst fears have been confirmed.

“Who took the picture?”

Richard snatches the photo away from you, “Made that little freak Greg Werner stalk you two,” He sneers and takes a step closer, “Bet he got a lot of fap material from that. Scrawny little guy like him, there's no question he's a fag. You would know, wouldn't you? You're just like him after all–”

“Okay, fine! So what if I am?” You jab your index finger into his chest, his green eyes widening as they focus on it, “What I do in my private time is my business and none of yours. My life is barely even my own, and it's all. Because. Of. You! So don't you fucking dare take what little personal pleasure I have away from me.”

With each word you speak, Richard's heart aches. It's a sharp, cold pain like a knife is being stabbed into his does. There's a silence when you finish, taut with your resentment and Richard's hesitant regret. He wants to say something, but what could he say? That it wasn't his fault? That he was sorry? That he didn't want you to leave him? He felt like he was watching a beautiful bird he had nursed back to health and kept safe from the dangers of the world start flapping its wings and fly, far, far away from him.

“Get out, Richard,” You turn away from him, “If you want me to leave your group and fuck off then I'll do so gladly.”

“No.” Richard grabs your arm.

“Wha- what do you mean no? Richard let go of me.”

Richard weighs what is important to him on a scale in his mind. You, or his status.

You were his best friend. Even if you were starting to slip away, to college, to Harry, out of his sight and out of his life, you were the only person he wanted to keep in his life. The only friend he could see himself going out for drinks with when he was older.

You were his first love. His only love. The first subject of his shameful adolescent dreams that left him awake at night, sweaty and spent on his bed. Once he had contemplated running away with you, changing names, and living a life free from the close minded small town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere the two of you grew up in.

But he had a reputation to maintain. A father who he had to satisfy with the standard accomplishments a father would expect of his son. He had a girlfriend whose father was the town's mayor. A town whose watchful eyes praised him as a good, upstanding young man who was destined for greatness. A star athlete who was going to play in the big leagues and finally place the town on the map.

In the grand scheme of things, you were just another teenager in his shadow.

You were destined to be remembered in history as merely another name in his autobiography. Richard Shepherd's childhood best friend.

However Richard's stomach curled at the thought of that. You and him, separated. No longer within the same circle, but in different worlds entirely.

The scales tip in your favour.

—

What happens next is a blur. You're shoved into the mattress of your bed and pinned down. You try to escape and Richard cows you into submission with a punch to the gut that nearly has you hurling from the force.

Your clothes are ripped from your skin, your protests go unheard, your body is a tool. Richard too has stripped himself, he spreads your legs. He grabs you by the chin when you close you try to look away, “Unless you want this to hurt more you're going to look at me when I do this.”

So you look, and you cry, and you weep as you feel his cock invade you. It's not a dry insertion, but God it still hurts. Richard gasps when he sheathes himself fully inside, his eyes are blown wide and his mouth hangs open like he's seeing stars. His fingers dig into your waist, and he bites his lip, his face tells it all and even in this position you can't help but smirk. Feels better than Hannah's, doesn't it Richard?

That's the last thought you remember having before Richard goes wild.

You do it on your bed, against your desk, pressed against the cool surface of your window. Richard cums multiple times inside you, he even cries at one point, screaming words you can barely remember in your fucked out state as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Richard makes you scream his name as he moans out yours. He asks if Harry kissed you before and when you're too tired to respond he slams his lips into yours and practically eats away at your mouth.

Eventually he finishes, pulling out of your worn out hole, with a wet plap. Your body shudders as you release a long, shaky breath.

“You’ve ruined me,” Richard pants, his blonde hair is sticking up, he’s covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his green eyes are blown wide open as he tries to compose himself, “I… I can’t- Hannah could never…”

He stares at you as you lie below him, equally sweaty, your neck and shoulders are littered with hickeys and bite marks, and you’re on the verge of passing out. The rims of your eyes are red, and your face is moist with tears. Your lip is swollen from Richard’s teeth digging into them, nearly tearing them off in his fervour.

You look like you’re about to die.

He looks more alive than he ever has before.

Richard looks like he wants to do it again.

Yet his eyes are filled with fear, and you want to laugh, but your throat is crying out in pain.

“You’ve ruined me.”

Yandere Best friend Bully who keeps you on a shorter leash now. He doesn't do anything in public. Okay, that's a lie. But he makes sure he doesn't get caught. And despite being the classic stereotype of a small town jock, complete with his hot cheerleader girlfriend and powerful inner circle, he's not an idiot. He doesn't do anything to out you, or even leave any hints to your sexuality. He doesn't even tell Harry he knows. No, this is his little secret. Your little secret. Just like the old days when the two of you had a secret fort deep in the woods behind his father's farm.

Yandere Bully who knows he can't keep you around his group, even to be the new punching bag. The guys would be too grossed and the girls.. well he didn't really care what they thought actually. Same went for the guys, to be honest. What mattered was the words they would say that would be whispered and spread like wildfire around the school.

Richard likes keeping the school homo around

Really?

Really!

You think he fucks the fag?

Why else? I don't see any bruises on the fucker’s face

Yandere Bully who can't bring himself to hurt you. Is he disappointed? Yes. Is he furious? Yes. Does he want to beat somebody’s head in till the anger goes away? Oh, no doubt. But if he were to ever hit your handsome face then he'd hit himself over the head with a brick a hundred times over.

Yandere Bully who resorts to being rough. He uses you like you're a lowly hooker, here to give him happiness and send him flying high to heaven with pleasure. He pins your wrists above your head. He smacks your ass. Digs his nails into your solid muscle till you bleed. He litters your skin with harsh, red bitemarks.

You would cover it all up the next day by saying you spent the night with a girl. You never say, you never do, so nobody questions who. He used to be jealous, resentful of whatever bitch was able to lay her needy hands on you, but now he only smirks at the sight of the miserable pout on Harry's face.

Yandere Bully who doesn't spare Harry either. Bumping into him in the hallways. Stomping on his foot during football practice. Flirting with his girlfriend by the lockers, a smirk on his face while his eyes are on Harry, quietly fuming while his girlfriend giggles and twirls her hair bashfully. His humiliation of Harry is what makes the other guys join in. They jeer at him, mock him by asking if he liked getting cucked, and start slowly respecting him less. That is, till you step in of course.

Yandere Bully who ignores the bitter complaints of the other guys, angered by the humiliation they suffer at your hands, and watches as resentment stews inside him as you scold Harry, hands brushing a stray chestnut lock away from his eyes while he smiles sheepishly, his ears burning red after being graced with your touch after so long of being deprived of it. The two of you looked natural, you looked happy, really happy. Real happy, with a real smile to boot.

Yandere Bully who sometimes wonders, during nights when he has you in his arms, your back facing him as you avoid his intense gaze by placing yourself in front of the wall, what exactly your feelings for Harry entail. Did you just want to fuck or did you like Harry the same way Hannah liked Richard?

Yandere Bully who sometimes wonders what he feels for you. He likes you, more than Harry, and certainly more than Hannah. But sometimes he wonders what's the difference between liking somebody and desiring them.

One day he looks at you the morning after a raunchy night in your bed and the sun pours in from your window, your brows furrow and a frown forms on your face. You bury your head in your pillow, and Richard decides that whatever he felt for you was completely beyond his comprehension.

Yandere Bully who should have known that Harry would start poking his nose eventually. He couldn't understand what you wanted from Harry, but he knew that he and Harry wanted the same thing from you: You in your unsullied entirety.

Yandere Bully who one day finds you alone in a room with Harry. He looks through a small gap in the doorway, and Harry is on his knees, drying your leg with a towel. The group was staying at Harry’s lakeside cabin during the summer, and you had all come back from swimming in the lake. Harry looks up at you from beneath his eyelashes, a seemingly innocent smile on his face while you narrow your eyes at him, a smirk curling at your lips.

Richard does a sharp intake of breath at your laugh, floating through the air like a gentle, silvery breeze. Your head rests on your hand while the other plays with Harry's damp hair, “Jesus christ, it was freezing though,” You shudder at the memory of it, “I felt like I was gonna turn into a popsicle.”

Harry giggles, fucker actually giggled, “Bet you'd be a hot popsicle though.”

“What the hell— A hot popsicle? You mean sexy?” At Harry's shy nod, you throw your head back and laugh, “So what, you're gonna drag your tongue over me and lick every inch of my body?”

Harry's ears start to burn red, “Well… I wouldn't… I wouldn't mind doing it even if… you aren't a popsicle…”

Before you can even respond, Richard swings the door wide open and the two of you snap to attention, Harry jolts and quickly scrambles to his feet and you practically leap off of the bed.

“Richard! Buddy! Pal! Amigo!” Harry exclaims, “What're you doing there at the door? Come in, come in! We were just talking about… uh—”

“The temperature,” You supply seamlessly with a firm nod, “I think my balls froze off in the lake man, they're numb as hell.”

Harry gapes at you for a moment before shaking his head with fervour and then nodding with the same amount of intensity, “Yep! How about we go on a walk after lunch? Absorb some good ol’ vitamin D, whaddya say Richard?”

Richard narrows his gaze at the two of you, his eyes flickering to Harry who beams like an idiot dog, then to you who sports a similar ‘ignorant’ smile.

“Bring it up with the others,” Richard mutters in gruff tone, “[Name] go tell them to start making lunch, Harry stay behind would you? I have to talk to you about something.”

“About what?”

“Football.”

“Ah, okie doke!” Harry smiles, not a single thought behind his blue eyes, “Seeya later [Name]!”

You hesitate for a moment, chewing your lip in thought, but a sharp glare from Richard is enough to have you roll your eyes and head out, “Don't take too long unless you wanna be eating our leftovers.”

“So is it about the upcoming game? The Bears have got nothing on us man, don't you sweat–”

“Harry, you buffoon, that was obviously just a guise,” Richard closes the door shut, “I want you to stay away from [Name].”

“Huh? Why?” Harry cocks his head to the side, “Is something wrong? Did [Name] do something?”

“It doesn't matter,” Richard waves his hand like he's swatting flies away, “I don't want you anywhere near him. Not even within an inch.”

“You can't just do that Richard,” Harry protests, but Richard is already turning away from him.

“I can,” Richard narrows his eyes at him, green against blue, “And I will.”

Before his fingers can even brush the metal of the doorknob, Harry grabs Richard's shoulder and spins him around, “No, Richard, you can't.”

There's an unusually serious expression on Harry's face that Richard never thought he'd see till Harry would reach his thirties, that is, if they were to even remain in touch.

Harry was a coward, plain and simple. He cried like a bitch when he watched scary movies, he was deathly afraid of the dark, once on a previous trip to the Cabin there was a spider in the bedroom and he simply stood on the couch pointing and screaming at the insect as his own girlfriend was the one who took it outside using a glass cup and a piece of paper.

When they first met, it took only three minutes for Richard to cement himself in Harry's mind as a person to listen to, to respect, and obey. And it was something that wouldn't change, till just now that is.

“I know you've been doing something to [Name],” Harry stares him down, for the first time in his life it truly registers in Richard just how tall Harry is as he stands nearly half a head above him, “And whatever it is, I want you to stop.”

Richard sneers, “Look at you. Harold Kelly. The town pushover finally grew some balls, huh?” He shoves Harry away, “But if you think I'm going to listen to you just because of that then you really are as big of an idiot as everybody says you are.”

Harry shakes his head, “You're hurting him, you know?” He meets Richard's piercing gaze without flinching, “You keep pushing him like this and he's going to snap eventually.”

“Why do you care? What is he, your little girlfriend? That why you didn't bother stepping up when your girlfriend had her mitts all over me?”

“He's my friend Richard, and friends care for each other,” Harry frowns, a disappointed look in his eyes that makes Richard want to sock him across the face (Who is he to look at him like that?), “You'd know that if you weren't so selfish.”

“What are you trying to say to me Harry?” Richard takes another step forward, smirking when Harry instinctively backs away, “If you're saying I don't care about [Name] then you're dead wrong, because nobody will ever care for him in his life as I will, not even you Harry. You wanna know why? Because you don't understand him, nobody does. Nobody except me, and that's why even if you two are flirting and going at each other like the little fairies you two are, the only person who will stay in his life forever is me.”

“You know?” Harry's voice is quiet, whatever bravery he mustered up is gone and he's back to the wuss Richard pushes around in his free time.

“Of course I do, nobody knows him better than I do after all, this is no exception.”

Harry's mouth hangs open slightly, and Richard snickers at the expression, smirking at his undeniable triumph over the other, “I won't say it again Harry, leave [Name] alone. If you don't, I'll tell the school you've been raping him.”

The threat makes Harry flinch, “No… you wouldn't.”

“You know better than to think that Harry.”

“E-even if you did, nobody would believe you!”

“Harry people have seen [Name] with your hickeys and bite marks, it wouldn't be so hard to convince them you're gay and Lucy is just your beard. Besides,” Richard drawls in a sing-song tone, “I have pictures~”

Harry's visage is consumed by an expression of defeat and hopelessness, “This is wrong Richard, you're ruining his life.”

“Please, if anything the only reason he has this life is because of me,” Richard scoffs, ignoring the twinge in his chest at Harry's words, “Now, if you'll excuse me.”

Without waiting for a response, Richard enters the dining room, and takes a seat beside Hannah and across you.

“What took you so long?” Hannah looks up from her plate, a bored look in her eyes.

Richard peck's her on the forehead, lips stiff, “Harry and I were talking about football.”

“Geez,” Hannah rolls her eyes, “All boys talk about is sports and cars, tsk.”

“Don't forget the girls,” Peter jokes.

Hannah wrinkles her nose, “Eugh.”

You send him a narrowed glance, a silent question hung in the air between the two of you. What happened?

Richard merely smirks, it widens at Harry's arrival. You look at Harry hopefully, only to visibly deflate when he sits beside Lucy at the other end of the table.

You turn to Richard again, eyes hardened, “What did you say?” You mouth.

Richard shrugs. You curse under your breath.

Yandere Bully who you can't stand anymore. At this point, could your life really be called your own? Richard always had his eye on you, day and night. He would spend his entire day with you. Even staying behind after practice to shower with you. He would eat at your table during dinner and stay over the night, you would be caged in your own bed, struggling to sleep while his hot breath fanned against your neck.

Fuck. Even Tommy would send you pitying glances when you would visit his house. Tommy! The kid you would pin down while Richard tore up his drawings in front of him.

The last straw is Harry. Lovable, cowardly, foolish Harry. Harry who avoids your gaze and practically flees when you enter his vicinity. Harry who tells you that he can’t see you anymore. That he shouldn't. That what the two of you are doing is wrong, it always has been.

You can't take this anymore. You have to get away. From the school. From the town. From Richard fucking Shepherd. You could tolerate it, barely but you could tolerate it. But then Harry broke your heart and suddenly you don't have a reason to tolerate what Richard is doing to you anymore.

Yandere Bully who expects to be offered full-ride scholarships to ivy-league colleges, but when scouts arrive they ignore him in favour of team players like Harry. You know this because the same night after Harry proudly announces he got a scholarship to the University of Michigan, he fucks you in the backseat of his car without a single shred of mercy, cursing under his breath the entire time. Talk about envy.

Yandere Bully whose expression can only be described as devastated when you break the news over dinner that a college in the city has accepted you, over his parents congratulating you and your parents tearful smiles, he looks like he's about to cry and scream at you all at once.

Yandere Bully who that night, in the barn on top the stacks of hay, when he thinks you've passed out he hugs you, actually hugs you, as sobs rack through his frame. He begs you not to leave him, and you feel almost guilty for not opening your eyes and assuring him that you won't. But you don't, because even you're not so cruel as to give him such an empty promise.

Yandere Bully who never sees you again after graduation. He tries to get you to stay, he even threatens releasing the pictures, but your only response is a shrug.

“Will you miss me?”

You scoff, “Will I miss you? Richard, there's nothing to miss. If anything, I should be asking you that question.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know exactly what it means.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“You love me.”

“You're delusional.”

“Wow, look at the pot calling the kettle black,” You chuckle.

“I'm not gay [Name].”

“Then why were you so mad about Harry then?’

“Because he was a fag.”

"Well, I'm a fag too, but you certainly treat me better than you ever treated Harry.”

“That's because you're different.”

“I'm special.”

“Whatever you wanna call it.”

“I'm special… because you love me.”

“I don't love you.”

“But will you miss me?”

“You're going to come back.”

“And how are you so sure?”

“Because I said so.”

You smile, “Don't count on it, Richard.”

Yandere Bully who breaks up with Hannah eventually, after she catches him cheating on her with a relative of yours who was staying in town. What can he say? She had your eyes.

Yandere Bully who only has the old baseball hat he gave you for your birthday to remember you by. It's either you forgot to pack it or you left it behind on purpose. Even if it hurts, he prefers the latter. At least it meant he mattered to you in some way, even if it's in a negative light. He always wears the hat, even if Raph teases him for it, all he has to do is knock the little shit in the head and he shuts his mouth about Richard's fashion choices.

Yandere Bully who writes letters he never sends, words written in a rough scrawl confessing truths he was too afraid to admit, that he's still afraid to admit to this day.

[Name]

Sunflower gave birth today, a colt with a coat the colour of chocolate. We named it London. I think dad has been thinking of going there, but I don't think he ever will.

Have you gone to London? I hope you haven't. We wanted to go there together, didn't we? You wanted to meet Harry Potter and I wanted to… well I didn't want to do anything there. I think I didn't mind where I was, I just wanted to be with you.

I wish you came back. I wish you never left. I wish you stayed with me in this shitty town and worked with me in my family's shitty farm. I know it's cruel, and I know you don't deserve it, but neither do I okay? I deserved a life with you and it's unfair that you got to leave and I'm still trapped here

Sunflower misses you, I think she got more sad when you left and hasn't changed since. She keeps whinnying like she's calling out for you and it bothers all the other horses because they can't sleep, and when they can't sleep then I can't sleep, and you know I fucking hate it when I can't sleep so could you just come back and spare me further trouble?

I got rid of the pictures. You don't have to worry about anything. I just need you back here. So I can sleep.

Richard

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

#yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc #male yandere #male reader #x reader #yandere #yandere male x reader #Richard Shepherd #tbh i was rooting for Harry the entire time #in my heart he and [name] got their happy ending #but as a writer i believe he has an unfulfilling marriage with his girlfriend #and my own idea for [name]'s ending is that he bounces from different boyfriends every few months because he has attachment issues

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munsonsreputation · 2 years ago

Text

Dress

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [5.6k]

warnings: no use of y/n, best friends to (secret (kinda)) lovers (brief backstory), cursing, drinking, reader and steve are both twenty, SMUT (minors do not interact or i will dropkick you) kissing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, yall...this is just fiction), multiple orgasms (reader), creampie (like I said...use protection), annnnnd aftercare <3

summary: everyone knew you and steve as being the best of friends...though they had their suspicions of something more happening between you two. however at hopper and joyce's wedding everything seems to be exposed, or at least that's what they think. at the end of the day, the only people that truly knew what was going on between you and steve, were you and steve...and the dress you bought for him to take off.

Across the room, his eyes were dead set on your figure—the wine glass you’d been carrying now halfway empty. All of your weight rested on one leg, allowing the opposite hip to be jutted out so exquisitely that your thigh peeked out through the high slit. Your hair fell effortlessly down the expanse of your back in free waves.

“So you and Steve?”

The woman you were talking to was a complete stranger, just a friend of Joyce’s that she invited for the wedding. She must have known who you were, or at least Steve, because when she asked the question, she looked over at him, instantly tracking him in the crowded room.

Your eyes wandered ever so coolly, bluffing like you couldn’t feel him gawking at you in your peripheral for most of the night.

It was offensive how good Steve looked in a tuxedo getup. It had you wishing more people in Hawkins invited you two to their wedding just so you could have an excuse to see him in this attire again. Not that his classic polo and khaki pants didn’t do it for you, but this was a nice change for once.

“We’re just friends.” You waved off, separating your eyes from him despite your urges to continue eye fucking him for the rest of the night.

She laughed, her own hand reaching forward to rest on your wrist where she gripped too tightly for your liking. “I heard Jonathan’s girlfriend Nancy used to date him?”

“It’s true.” You confirmed, peeking over to the dance floor where a very intoxicated Nancy was having the time of her life with Jonathan who looked to be just as wasted, dancing to the beat of the music.

“Jonny is a sweet boy, but Steve is just...wow.” She purred lowly, turning her head towards Steve who did his best to play it off like he wasn’t ogling at you. Coughing awkwardly into his elbow and turning away instantly as you held back a smirk and turned your attention back to the older woman.

“If I was still twenty, I would love me a piece of Steve Harring—“

“More wine?”

The stranger quickly shut her mouth as Steve popped up out of nowhere, suddenly holding the wine bottle in his hand as you grinned sneakily your hand holding out the glass for him to fill though there was still burgundy in there.

“What were you ladies talking about?” Steve sing-songed, the soft glug glug glug subduing the music as the lady blushed, turning away as you did your best to hide your amusement.

Steve bit his lip, staring as you eyed him up and down. “You’re always the talk of the town, Harrington.”

He snickered, shaking his head, “Nothing bad, I hope.”

You pouted with a not so believable innocent faced as you drew an x over your chest, “Cross my heart.”

Steve snickered at your hilarity, paying no mind to the woman beside you other than blindlessly filling up her glass with more alcohol.

“It’s nice to meet you Steven, my name is—“

You perked up at the swift song change, synth permeating the air as everyone hooted around and more dancers filled the floor. Steve turned to you, planting down the wine bottle and holding out his hand.

“Would you mind holding this?” You rose your brow towards the lady, your lips sheathing around the cusp of the wineglass, and lifting it, taking one last sip before sticking it in her free hand.

You gulped the bitter, looking back at Steve, then back at the lady with a calculated grin glued on your face because you wanted to add salt to her poor middle-aged wound.

“This is my boyfriend and I’s favorite song.”

The look on her face was priceless. Eyes wide and mouth held agape like you lied to her, which you totally did, but you had no care. Just simply twirling around and letting Steve draw you to the dance floor.

“You called me your boyfriend.” Steve’s voice filled with surprise and contentment, whispering the words in your ear while you moved your body against his.

You wiggled your shoulders, leaving kisses up his neck and murmuring in his ear, “Would you rather me refer to you as the guy I’m sleeping with?”

He shivered at your articulation and touch upon his skin, beaming at you and shaking his head. Steve was more than delighted to be called your boyfriend, even if that meant that your not so secret love affair was finally revealed.

But it wasn’t as if people didn’t know you and Steve were together.

Everyone knew you were together.

You two were just too blind to see that everyone knew.

The chemistry you and Steve shared was out of this world. Maybe it was because you two were best friends before you both decided to pursue something further.

But you and Steve both knew that you didn’t want each other merely as best friends. There was always something more lingering between the two of you.

Steve had met you long ago, back in middle school when you had moved to Hawkins. You were seated beside him in social studies, back when he had a buzz cut and you had experimentally bleached hair, or at least pieces of it after seeing it in magazines and wanted to strut into eighth grade with a cool look.

Friends to Best Friends is something that instantaneously took place between the two of you. But so did the mutual pining. Years of seeing each other jump in and out of relationships and double dates throughout high school was agonizing.

He’d listen to you complain about your incompetent partners and you’d never hear the end of his famous “you deserve better” or “I’ll kick their ass” lectures.

And of course you’d listen to him go on about how badly his dates went and how he was trying to find someone to really settle down with.

Both of you knowing and wanting one another, but just being too petrified to ruin the perfectly established and strong friendship you already had.

But like all the good things to come, you both had to be patient with time. It wasn’t until the two of you graduated that you decided to give the relationship thing a try.

“Why are people staring so hard?” He suspected, eyes floating around the banquet hall to see some guests and his friends closely watching your every move.

You humphed cluelessly, lifting his hand and intertwining yours together as you danced, “They think they know everything…like we really are just best friends.”

It wasn’t like you and Steve didn’t want people to know you were together. But it was just nicer keeping everything private. Him knowing he could come home to you. And you knowing you could come home to him.

An intimate comfort that was sailing right under everyone’s noses, just for you two to keep.

But holding back from each other was hard.

Pretending that you and Steve were stuck in traffic, which is why you were late to game night, when, in fact, you two got caught up having sex.

Or having to bite your tongue when Robin would ask Steve about any hot babes he was seeing.

And Eddie teasing you about how flirtatious the server was being when Steve just wanted to intervene and tell the son of a bitch to back off.

Self-control and lying is something you and Steve had thought you were good at—essentially keeping your relationship a secret, but they all caught on immediately.

Dustin and the boys noticing your car in Steve’s driveway at late hours of the night.

And Max and El questioning you about the hickey on your neck when you dropped them off at the arcade.

Evidently, with the younger teens conspiring it was only a while before the older teens found out and began their own discoveries.

Jonathan and Nancy, seeing the two of you sat in the theaters, snuggled up after you both had told them you would be working that night.

Eddie and Robin stumbling across a polaroid photo of the two of you kissing inside Steve’s glove box.

And even the adults, Hopper and Joyce, catching the two of you having dinner at Enzo’s to celebrate your three-month anniversary.

Everyone knew, but no one said a word.

“Henderson looks like he’s about to explode.” You stiffed your laugh with a smile, moving your eyes away from the curly-headed boy being shaken by Lucas and Mike as he glared.

Steve chortled, shaking his head at the young boy and mouthing a sorry, “He probably feels betrayed his favorite babysitter has been keeping his girl a secret.”

“Robin and Eddie don’t seem too surprised.” You tilted your chin to them, their shining figures gawking at you two as you stuck your tongue out at them, earning a laugh.

By now, ABBA had died down, and a slow song had replaced the synth. Bodies moving deliberately as the lights dimmed down and only couples were left on the dance floor.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Steve began, his lips ghosting upon your ear and he squeezed your waist, “You in this dress should be a crime.”

You blushed, your face nuzzling itself into his neck as you followed his lead, your hips rocking to the direction of his hands, “I told you…I only bought it so you could take it off.”

The air was thick, like it was just you and him in the room. The sexual tension lingering between the both of you was almost painful to try to hold back from, and so Steve spoke, one of his hands trailing up your spine and to the back of your neck, bringing your face away to meet him.

“Let’s get out of here.”

His voice dripped with seduction, his pupils blown wide as he stared intensely into your orbs. Though the lights were dimmed, he had memorized every feature and its curve on your body. You looked enticing, the kind that made him want to worship your body in private, like he knew how to.

“Please.” You replied, unwrapping your arms from his neck, and hooking them around his biceps and allowing him to lead you away from the dancing.

His other arm covered the small of your back, closing the distance between the both of you, desperately wanting you close to him. Your heels clicked against the floors, strolling past your friends and firing them a smile while you and Steve passed, accompanied by their whistles and Nancy and Robin blowing your kisses.

“Congratulations, again.” Steve congratulated, withdrawing his arm from your waistline and propping it up on Hop’s shoulder.

The newly wed couple stood at the double doors of the banquet hall, getting some of their photos taken as you greeted them adieu.

“Leaving so soon?” Joyce sought, resting a heartening hand on your shoulder and squeezing, and you smiled at her.

“Steve and I are gonna get some rest in the hotel room, but we’ll still be up bright and early tomorrow for breakfast at the cafe.” You reassured her of the plans that were already made and she smiled, kissing your cheek then doing the same to Steve.

“Don’t have too much fun now.” The older man badgered, patting Steve on his back and ruffling your hair as you giggled and nodded.

“Night Mr. and Mrs. Hopper.” Steve bowed, draping his arm back around your back as they waved goodnight, watching you two walk out of the doors and promptly adverting their eyes to the others who were giggling and whispering to themselves.

And of course, the second you and Steve were out of sight from everyone, your lips connected frantically. Stumbling into the elevator and him only drawing away for a millisecond to make sure he was clicking the right floor number before you dragged him back to you again.

Fingertips skimmed and squeezing parts of each other’s body, yearning for the electrifying touch that always got one another going a thousand miles over the limit. The only thing that tore them apart was the ding that came from the elevator, the doors opening as they arrived on their respective floor.

Steve wasted no time hoisting you up with ease, followed by your squeal as he smacked your butt. He was swift and smooth, reaching his hand into his pant pocket for the room key and unlocking the door. Kicking it shut and twisting the lock, he made his way over to the bed, placing you down at the foot of it.

The moonlight slithered past the curtains, illuminating your body before him. You leaned up on your elbows, uncrossing your legs and inching them open, wider, wider, and wider, until Steve finally fitted himself between you, trapping himself as you locked your legs around him.

His palms came down on the cushion, the soft cotton sheets upon his skin, leaning down, hovering over you, face fitting perfectly against yours.

“No more games.” He murmured sternly, his lips brushing along your jaw and you huffed out a laugh, playing coy.

“What’re you talking about?”

You were bullshitting him. You knew exactly what he was talking about.

The entire night you were playing games with him, knowing he couldn’t do anything but bite his lip and watch.

Watching you rock your hips back and forth to the beat of the music.

Watching you strike a pose every time the photographer would approach you for pictures.

Just anticipating to finally get his hands on you like this very moment.

“Stop wasting time, Steven.” You grumbled, shuffling your face closer to his and sighing as he finally connected your lips back together.

This time, his hands withdrew from the bed, instead smoothing down your exposed thighs and sweeping the fabric of your dress back, giving him more access to you. The firmness pressed into your clothed center gave you affirmation that Steve was more than ready to take you, to make you his as you did the same to him.

Your legs tightened around back, pulling him closer and your hands gripped and tugged on his suit jacket, prompting him to pull his hands away from you and shrug the coat off. Your lips moved in tandem with each other as you two made quick work of getting rid of each other’s clothes.

Your fingers skimmed against the buttons of his shirt, exposing his skin to the cool air and hands caressing your back as he unzipped the dress.

Steve pulled away from the kiss, inciting a wail to leave your lips, craving nothing more than to mesh your bodies together for eternity. He laughed at your neediness, but never in a bad way. He was just always astounded at how deeply you wanted him. How you always craved to have his touch.

“Fucking beautiful.” He spoke more so to himself, his tender palms peeling the dress off your shoulders and down the rest of your body, leaving it to fall to the floor right beside his feet.

Your heels were still on, those damn things that made your legs look even better, and made Steve even more of a feral man the more he kept watching you the entire night.

You’d never get acquainted to his skill, the way his hands would scroll over your body, burning your skin with electrifying touches that made you want more.

Rolling your head back with a deep breath leaving you, he squeezed your breasts in his hands, chuckling at the way you instantly fell deeper into the bed. “Don’t make me wait, please.”

Begging usually worked with most guys, but Steve…oh that man hated when he made you feel like you had to beg.

He’d give you anything if you’d ask.

Sure, sometimes begging was a fun little game the two of you liked to play in bed every once in a while.

But he loved to please you, do anything to get you off and give you the pleasure you so rightfully deserved.

You cried out a complaint as he reached back and undid your legs from around his body, but immediately shifted into a whistle when he shrugged off the button down you had loosened. His nimble hands worked his belt undone and through the loops, his eyes wandering up to meet yours before speaking.

“Teasing me all night with no bra on.”

You looked down at your exposed chest and shrugged innocently. “Couldn’t wear it with the dress.”

He tsked, nodding his head as he unzipped his pants, kicking out of his shoes first before leaving his legs bare. He was instantly back in between your still spread legs, working your heels off of your feet, tossing them a little gently off to the side of the room.

His knees made contact with the bed, hoisting you up onto the mattress with your lips kissing all over his bare skin until you sensed the cushioned headboard above you.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Steve spoke low, stretching your face away from his chest and pushing a kiss to your lips before tearing away.

Your hips jutted up, pressing against his covered crotch, making the two of you moan just before Steve pushed your body back down. “C’mon, tell me, baby.”

“Want you to touch me.” You hissed softly, head thrown back against the pillows, feeling his fingers dance along the waistband of your underwear, fiddling with the flimsy fabric but never daring to drag them off your body.

His breath fanned over your stomach where he pressed pecks along the skin until he just barely ghosted his lips over the front of your panties. “Won’t make you beg tonight, honey…just want you to be a little more specific.”

Your second attempt at jutting your hips up to where you needed him was unsuccessful. His firm grip holding your body into the bed with nowhere to go.

“M-mouth, want your mouth, please.”

In a blink of an eye, your panties were abandoned somewhere in the room and Steve found his place between your legs, his large hands splayed on your inner thighs as he spread you open. Your fingers urgently tangling in his hair, nudging him closer as his tongue lapped at you as if he was parched.

“B-baby, oh my god, just like—right there!”

Curses, whines, and a mixture of moans tore from your throat, the noises from your sinful mouth echoing off the walls and traveling straight to Steve member, getting him incredibly harder by the second.

His hum of approval against your sensitive core only made you louder, your fingers breaking away from his hair and instead twisting into the bedsheets, using it as leverage as you withered beneath him. His tongue was ruthless, never moving slower or picking up the pace too quickly. Steve always knew what would set you off, his eyes trailing from your tits to your face, observing you slowly being to unravel.

“S-steve, I’m gonna cum…p-please.” Your eyes were shut tight, rib cage heaving up and down and the lightness consuming all your senses until Steve spoke against you, “Cum, baby.”

His mouth enclosing around your bundle of nerves combined with the squeeze he gave your thighs led you to your first release of the night. A sob leaving your mouth as you caught your breath and gradually came back with cloudy eyes, Steve’s mouth smoothly leaving your core and kissing the inside of your thighs as he ran his hands over your midsection.

“Good?” He proposed cheekily, sitting up with his lips and the skin around his mouth covered in your essence, glimmering in the pale moonlight.

You swallowed, the dryness in your throat washing away and you nodded, leaning up on your elbows and pressing your face forward. “Amazing.”

He met you halfway, relaxing his forehead on yours and nudging your noses together. “Want a taste?”

You could feel the fire starting up inside you again, chewing your lip with a hum until you let the skin go, granting him to kiss you passionately. The blend of your sweetness and his mouth washing over you like the most decadent honey until he tore away, a string of saliva darting between your pair of lips.

“Please, fuck me, Steve…been waiting all night.”

You were able to roll your hips this time, right up against his crotch, being able to feel every vein and ridge despite him still being covered. You knew your man like the back of your hand. Had every inch of him memorized.

He kissed you once more before sliding away. His feet planted back to the ground, removing his boxers until he made his way back up to you.

Immediately, your hands reached for his cock—achingly hard and pleading to be inside of you. Your eyes flickered to his orbs as you stroked him lazily, your thumb brushing over his sensitive slit, smearing the pre-cum in circles, only making his own sequence of obscenities fly out of his mouth until he jerked his eyes open, shuddering away the nerves.

“Gonna make me blow my load before I get inside of you.” He swung his head, enclosing his hand around your wrist to pull you away from his length.

You smirked, prompting the hand up to your mouth, sucking his pre-cum off your thumb and toying the tip of it with your tongue. Teasing him and walking the thin line of him absolutely railing you.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it, baby.”

He reached down, guiding his length up and down your core, nudging your clit and getting you to fall back. Just how he wanted it. It was only seconds before he pressed the tip into you, working himself deeper and deeper as your mewls and moans got louder and louder.

The two of you bound up in each other with your arms hung around his neck, nuzzling your face in his neck. And him, balls deep inside of you, feeling your walls contract around him with every shallow thrust he urged towards you, working you open and getting used to his sheer size.

“You f-feel soooo good,” He grunted, his hips moving quicker, leaving just the tip inside of you before crashing back in, lingering there just long enough to feel you tighten around him, then repeating the action all over again.

You were panting, nails leaving crescent-moon impressions all over his shoulders and back, letting your hands roam his body, “So deep, baby…fuck! Feels t-too good.”

The rapid pace had you seeing stars, prompting you to unwrap your hands from his body, allowing your arms to flare out on the bed, finding purchase on the fabric beneath you. He was in your sight, dead center, the haziness enveloping him as he cooed down at you, his grip on your legs leaving to cradle your face.

“I know what you need baby—so fuckin’ tight…know you want to cum. I can feel it, sweetheart.”

His tone wasn’t supposed to be condescending in any way, in fact it was tender. But the way the words left his mouth…oh, it got you going. It had the knot in your belly pulling and stiffening as he spoke so highly of his expertise. Knowing that you knew that he knew just want you desired, because he always did. You couldn’t hold back even if you tried. He knew how to make you feel like you were floating on cloud nine and—

“Oh, my god!”

Your hips raised off the bed, only pressing yourself further onto his length. Your legs were shaking under Steve’s touch. And the pulsing around his cock was enough to let him know that you reached your second climax.

His warm laugh filled the room, his hips halted, only letting your aftershock tremble shift against him as you gently settled back down, ragged breaths leaving your mouth and your hands running across your own skin, attempting to come back to Earth.

“So good,” He kissed your knee sweetly,

“Bet that felt nice, huh, baby?” Another kiss, this time right in the center of your chest.

Your eyes began to open, your jaw trembling as you nodded your head, eyes glasses for him as he kissed your forehead, “Be a good girl and give me one more.”

You’d give him however many he wanted.

“Yes, baby.”

He left you for a moment, leaving you an empty and whining mess, but only for a second as he dragged you to the end of the bed. And just like that, he was guiding your legs over his shoulder, pushing himself back inside of you and starting up the same unrelenting pace that had you in pieces just minutes ago.

“There we go, honey.” Steve praised, watching the scene below him. You licking your fingers and bringing them to your clit, rubbing stiff circles as your half-lidded eyes watched him smile proudly, a little sweat beading at his forehead where his baby hairs stuck.

He braced his hands on either side of your head, the new angle sending him deeper, if that was even remotely possible. Steve could tell you were only a moment away from falling apart for him all over again. He prided himself on being able to get you off over and over again with ease, getting you to the point of cock-drunk, just the way you liked it.

Your moans were babbles of slurred words at this point, telling him how good you were feeling and how good he felt inside of you. The words only spurring him closer to his own release, but you always came first. And so when he noted your hand faltering between the two of you, he instantly sprang into action. Bracing himself above you with one arm and his other replacing the rubbing on your clit.

“Come on baby, s-shit, fucking tight, give it to me baby, c’mon, be my good girl, one more.”

Your mouth opened wide with a silent scream, all the thoughts leaving your head as you surrendered and pulsed around him. It took you a few seconds to draw a clear breath in through your nose, your entire body feeling like a magnetic field as Steve’s thrusts began to stammer as he searched for his own release.

Your arms and legs were numb, but you wanted that closeness to Steve despite him already inside of you. Your legs wrapped around his rear, leaving just enough room for him to thrust deeper and deeper.

“D-don’t stop.”

Your arms found his biceps, drawing all his weight down on you, causing him choke out a grunt, alarmed he might be crushing you, but if anything you held him tighter.

His eyes were dead set on you, never daring to miss the way your face contorted with every move he made. Your lipstick was smeared, mascara smudged, and your hair a tangled mess, but you still looked as ethereal as you did before you got here.

His heartbeat was out of control, and only when you moved your shaking hands to his neck, did you feel his pulse beneath your fingertips, “Cum inside of me.”

Pure seduction weaved into your tone, even after your throat was raw from the moans and screams from your previous orgasms. It had him weak.

“I’m going to, baby.” He assured you, pants leaving his mouth, just seconds away from giving you everything.

“Fill me up.” You continued, purring it against his neck, feeling him shudder and whisper out curses under his breath, “Fill me up, Steve.”

“Fuck!”

A sleepy smile plastered on your face feeling every spurt of his cum and twitch of his cock from within you. Steve sank his forehead to your chest, grazing at your boobs and every inch of your skin as he caught his breath, slowly pulling out of you, surveying the mixture of you and him dripping onto the bedsheets.

“You’re fucking divine, you know that?” He puffed, palms resting on his hips, watching you turn on your side, eyes drifting close as you mumbled.

“I’m gonna wear that dress every day if you keep fucking me like that.” You added, causing the two of you to laugh, and Steve shook his head.

His palms ran up and down your legs, working them to feel some sort of relaxation as your shaking began to die down, “Gonna get a bath started, then bed.”

You nodded, eyes still closed, feeling his weight come off the bed, “I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you too, baby.” He replied, shuffling towards your side of the bed and leaving a passionate smooch on your lips before he headed towards the bathroom where the water began to run.

You had contemplated it multiple times…going back in time to act upon your feelings for Steve sooner, getting to have more moments like this and memories together. But in hindsight, the pinning and anticipation that grew between you and Steve made your love for each other sweeter.

It made you appreciate one another a little more. Learning to take your time and savor every touch and kiss you got to share. Reminding yourselves that you two both waited and longed for one another, which meant that you sure would have to learn how to love each other the way you each preferred.

You two acted upon your feelings at the right time.

Not too soon and not too late.

And so now you got to wake up every next to Steve and fall asleep right beside him every night. No matter where you were, the indentation in the bed always belong to Steve.

Your one and only.

Your lifeline.

And Steve, he was grateful for the same reasons and others as well.

You always saw something in him, even way before you two were an official couple. Back when you were just best friends, you saw the truth in him despite all his horrible attempts at trying to mask it with lies. And you definitely saw the best in him, even when he felt like others didn’t and even himself.

You were his one and only.

His lifeline.

“Stevieeeeeee.” You giggled, sloshing the bubbly water around the tub while he worked his fingertips through your scalp, massaging the shampoo into a lather.

“I told you no getting wine drunk in the bathtub!” Steve pretended to chide, seeing you reach for the wineglass and take another sip of the burgundy you had found in the mini fridge.

You laughed, catching his reflection in the glass, him looking laser concentrated at ensuring your hair was getting washed.

“Want a sip?” You suggested, turning back slightly to hold the glass up to his lips.

He nodded, fingers never withdrawing from your head as he wrapped his lips around the curve of the glass and you tipped it forward, enough for him to get his serving only before pouring it a little too much as it spilt past his lips and into the tub.

He grumbled, swinging his head as you were now a giggling, woozy mess, moving down to place the glass back on the floor as you continued to shriek at the red dripping down his chin.

Steve couldn’t pretend to be annoyed, just cracking his own smile and pulling his hands from your scalp, rinsing them in the water before wiping his mouth clean.

“You’re drunk.” He bopped your nose, smirking as you beamed back at him with a guilty face.

“Tipsy.” You corrected, only before turning your entire body to face him, not caring if the water was spilling outside of the tub, “Kiss?”

“Of course, baby.” He laughed, pressing his lips to yours, not drawing away until you did with a bemused smile on your face.

“Do you think the officiant is still going to be in town tomorrow?” You sought curiously, twirling a strand of his damp hair between your fingers.

Steve furrowed his brows and shrugged, “I’m not too sure…why?”

You bit your lip, pressing your cheek to your shoulder. “We could get married.”

He snickered, nodding his head at the thought of getting hitched to the love of his life on a random Sunda morning, it was so on brand for the two of you, yet it would be better to wait until you were fully sober to talk about it.

“I’d love to marry you, sweetheart, but let’s wash your hair first. Then we can talk about marriage alllll morning tomorrow.”

You beamed like you had won the lottery, frantically nodding your head as you kissed him once more, and got back into the position letting him finish washing your hair and then falling asleep in one another’s arms.

The mark that you and Steve left on each other, whether it’d be literal or figuratively, was something that neither of you could ever try to hide or replicate. It was like a golden tattoo that the two of you had inked on your skin. Something so rare yet fragile—worth so much, but just for the both of you to have.

Everything about you two was inescapable. Not worth trying to run from or trying to disguise.

So maybe at the end of the day, people knew about you and Steve.

But they didn’t know everything.

Not about how you two had carved your initials on his bedpost to mark your relationship.

Not the secret moments you two shared in crowded rooms with no suspicion.

Not the fact that you didn’t want each other as just best friends.

And definitely not that you only bought that dress so he could take it off.

A/N: UMMMMM first off...thanks to taylor for writing this sinful masterpiece that will forever have a chokehold on me. this song is soooo steve coded i just had to indulge and write this. speaking of, this is my first ever attempt at writing smut so please let me know how i did...i couldn't stop laughing cause i suck at explaining shit like this 😭😭😭 anyways, reblogs, likes, tags, and comments are greatly appreciated and i hope you all like this 💘✨💌

officially starting a taglist, so inbox me or leave it in the comments if you'd like to be added!!!

taglist: @translatemunson

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starrystevie · 1 year ago

Text

18+ | modern office steddie au | cw: public sex, undernegotiated kinks, unsafe sex | crossposted to ao3 here

eddie doesn't do it often. okay, maybe that's a stretch. frequently might be a better word for it, more accurate. but he wouldn't say he does it everyday or anything. it's just a little break from the day, an escape from the monotony of corporate america.

he's only been in this new tech support job for a few months but he's already comfortable enough that working on his next novel at his desk doesn't give him anxiety anymore. he isn't afraid someone is looking over his shoulder all the time like he did when he first started with the company.

the thing is, eddie's good at tech. he's good at finding the problems, finding even better solutions. half the time all he's doing is updating and restarting people's equipment that hasn't been refreshed in years. so he finds himself with enough free time at his desk to work on the second installment of his fantasy novel when the problems seem to be at a low.

as he waits for his laptop to boot up, eddie cracks his knuckles and grabs his phone to send a text to his editor that may or may not also happen to be his best friend so he could cut back on over exuberant editing fees. he doesn't read the message over, just fires out a text to nancy quickly before pocketing his phone.

he only realizes the typo once he gets a laughing emoji in return and cackles at what he actually sent.

"getting ready to write some smut on the cock!!!!!"

it doesn't take long to send a winky face before correcting himself to say " on the clock obviously", before pocketing his phone and opening the document where his novel is. just as eddie is about to start typing, a voice behind him makes him jump out of his skin.

"what was so funny?" steve asks, arm propped on the top of his flimsy cubicle wall, legs crossed over one another, smirk on his face.

eddie forces himself not to swoon. he takes in the way his white button up stretches across his chest, dress pants oh so snug over his thighs, hair pushed back in the way that only steve harrington could pull off. he may have only been at the office for a few months, but ever since he first saw him, steve very quickly became the only thing eddie could think about.

"i'm sure you wouldn't find it funny," he starts, tilting his laptop screen halfway shut so steve can't catch him doing his other job, his favorite job, while at work.

steve smirks again, his cheek lifting enough to crinkle his eye. "try me, munson."

with a dramatic push, eddie rolls in his wheely chair and stands up so he can keep his voice low. "i sent my editor a dirty text on accident."

if steve's surprised, he doesn't show it.

"editor, hmm? for what?" his voice is as low as eddie's and it makes the cubicle feel even smaller than it is. like everything in the world has zeroed in on their whispers to each other.

"i might be writing a book. well, technically i've already written a book. this is just the sequel."

steve's eyes flick from eddie to his laptop and then back once more. "is it anything i'd know?"

he cackles again, picturing steve reading his smutty fantasy novel, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to make any sense out of the haphazard world map eddie drew for the back page. but then again, he could easily picture steve in the world he made. he'd be a prince- no, scratch that, an elven prince- just like the one he's writing about in this one.

"i do read, you know. i'm not entirely up to date with everything but i do like books." steve says it like he's almost hurt and it makes eddie look back up at him, mellowing out his wide grin into a softer smile.

"oh, i wasn't doubting that. i just doubt you read elf porn in your free time."

whatever hurt was lacing through steve's face is gone, replaced with wide eyes and eyebrows to his hairline and a bright smile pulling at his cheeks.

"yeah," he says a little breathless, "yeah, definitely not the first thing i'd reach for."

eddie gives him a told-you-so head nod and brings a hand up to run through his hair, tracking steve's eyes as he follows the motion for a moment. having his eyes on him rushes through eddie like a wave crashing and he's halfway tempted to do it again if he didn't think it would look forced.

"well you probably don't know mine then."

as he turns to go back to his chair, he hears steve cough to get his attention back, arms crossed over his chest to make his shirt pull taut over his beautiful, gorgeous, annoyingly perfect biceps. "so what was the dirty text?"

"well, it was actually a typo," eddie starts, cocking his head to the side with a smirk as he pulls out his phone, "so an unintentional dirty text. but still funny, none the less. and i don't think i can say it out loud without getting hr called on my ass so-"

he holds up his phone so steve can see the brief conversation between him and nancy, watches his eyebrows shoot back up to his hairline, watches as his mouth drops open for a millisecond before giving eddie another goddamn smirk. steve leans back, drops his arms to put a hand on his hip, and looks eddie less than subtly up and down.

"so... do you want to?"

eddie can feel the moment his heart stutters in his chest. a combination of steve's general... steveness plus the implication of what the text said and his mind travels to a dirty, dirty, not meant for work place until he pieces it somewhat together and asks-

"...are you asking if i'm gay?"

steve huffs out a laugh and takes a step further into eddie's cubicle. there already isn't much room and with him coming in the tiniest bit closer, their toes are almost touching.

"sure," he says like it's the easiest thing to say on a thursday afternoon. "it can be a two-part question if you want."

a few things run through eddie's head all at the same time:

steve's close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off of the arm he now has resting on his desk, and he's really about to come out to a coworker which he normally leaves for at least 6 months into a new job, and that he thinks he's going to pass out if steve is actually asking what he thinks he's asking.

do you want to write smut while you're on my cock?

he doesn't know where he finds the courage, honestly. call it a slow thursday, call it a little extra motivation for his novel. eddie scoots closer and throws caution to the wind.

"then yes to both."

he's never seen steve's office. he's been to the top floors before when some higher up needed him to install a web browser on his new desktop so he has kind of an idea of what the private offices look like.

eddie didn't expect the first time that he got to see steve's office would be spread out, bent over his desk with his novel pulled up on his laptop while steve runs his hands over his ass.

"here's how this is going to work," steve whispers close to his ear while he lays against his back, snaking a hand up to undo the knot of eddie's messy tie, popping open a button on his dress shirt in the process. "you stop writing, i stop fucking you."

with a hum, eddie presses his hips back, up on his tiptoes with his off brand dress shoes pinching his feet tightly. "i think i can manage that."

"i'm not finished," he bites gently at eddie's ear lobe, returning his hands to palm over his ass cheeks. "everything i do to you, and i mean everything, needs to be written down. turn me into a character or something, i don't care, but i expect you to be thorough."

he doesn't mean to moan at the instructions, really he doesn't, but it's so easy to picture steve morphing into a character in his world. his mind races trying to figure out how exactly to write him into the scene that had already started, but with a snap of his fingers as the idea clicks, he writes out a quick line and looks at steve over his shoulder for approval.

"who's sylvar?" steve asks, pronunciation clunky on his tongue.

"sylvar is an elven prince, might as well make you him. besides, you both have an s name."

steve chuckles, his breath ruffling eddie's hair. "okay, fair. prince, huh?"

he doesn't have to look over his shoulder again to know that steve's smirking so he rolls his eyes and finishes the sentence, only breaking away to gasp as steve brings his hand between his thighs to spread them further apart.

"i'm gonna take a wild guess and say that elidyr is supposed to be you?"

eddie nods and pulls his tie off the rest of the way. "let's see, he's one of the prince's newest attendants, known for being a bit out of control, gets chastised for staring at the prince's ass in his khakis too much-"

"you're making that one up, huh?"

he tosses his tie to the side and brings a hand up to tangle in steve's hair, pulling his lips down to his neck and waiting for him to get the hint and start kissing. "steve, i'm making all of it up. that's the way writing a book goes."

"is that so?" he murmurs playfully against his neck, teeth pressing against the skin as he smiles, hands yanking on his hips to get eddie flush against his cock. "...i don't see you writing."

eddie huffs and shakes his head before writing out quickly how sylvar grabbed elidyr by the hips roughly to show him how excited he was. steve takes the typing as the go ahead and quickly undoes both of their pants before running his hands up eddie's now bare thighs.

he didn't really have any idea of how well he'd be able to hold out to steve's ministrations while having to write them out at the same time, but any confidence he had in himself leaves when steve's palm cups his cock through his briefs. eddie cants his hips forward and brings his hand back up to tangle once more in steve's hair.

and just like that, the touch is gone.

"oh, come on!" eddie whines and brings his hands back to the keyboard, typing in random filler words until suddenly he has no underwear and hands pulling his ass cheeks apart.

"gonna fucking take you apart... shit," steve whispers and eddie doesn't think he was supposed to hear it, but he writes it into the scene anyway.

there's a cool dribble of what must be lube on his hole and he fights against the shiver it sends up his spine. "you have lube in your office?"

"no, i have lube in my briefcase. big difference."

eddie doesn't really see how to the two are different, but he laughs to appease steve before getting cut short as a finger starts to enter him. he must whine, must jerk or do something wrong because it's leaving almost as soon as it had arrived.

"steve, i swear to god," eddie groans, head dropping down as he types without looking. poor nancy is going to have a hell of time reading and editing over this draft.

they both sigh when the finger presses into him once more and steve weaves his other hand into eddie's hair to pull him up and look at his screen. "there you go, just keep typing. write about how good it feels."

and shit. that's hotter than he expected it to be.

it goes well for all of a few minutes, eddie typing and steve reading over his shoulder, scissoring his fingers to get him nice and wet and open. they both somehow manage to keep their composure, filthy words being muttered out loud that then end up on the screen.

it's after steve gets him cock in him that it all goes down hill.

"oh fuck-" eddie moans as his leg gets hoisted up for a better angle. steve's grip on his hip is brutal, bound to be leaving bruises, as he pulls eddie back to meet him in the middle.

his chest is rubbing against the pleather desk cover, nipples catching on just the right side of painful when steve pushes his shirt up and out of the way. his dick is flopping against his thigh with every thrust, the lack of friction driving him insane.

he swears he only takes his hands away from the laptop for a second but then steve's pulling out quickly, dropping his leg and getting eddie off balance. he whines like he's throwing a temper tantrum before bringing his fingers back up to type more nonsense, gasping when steve slides back in like no time has passed.

"read it," he huffs next to his ear, "tell me how perfect you make fucking me sound."

"oh my god," eddie croaks, eyes rolling back as steve lets go of his hip once more to pull his head upright. "sylvar fucks wi-without abandon, hitting every right spot possible inside elidyr, the heat of his h-heavy cock punishing him making him mad with lust."

"good, yeah that's good. like when i fuck you hard?" steve grunts out before pistoning his hips even faster, eddie's moans bouncing off the bare office walls. "tell me more, keep going baby."

"the grip he uses to hold onto elidyr's hair is the only thing keeping him upright. this is all he could want, tending to the prince's every desire, being whatever the prince wants him to be." eddie expects it when the fingers in his hair curl even tighter, his back bowing against the desk with the pressure, but he still keens loudly at the pull.

steve chuckles roughly, like he's barely holding on himself, hips stuttering before evening out. "is that what you want?"

"wha-" eddie murmurs, not trusting his voice much more than that, his brain turning into mush. "is what what i want?"

"want to tend to my desires, want to be for me to use however i please?"

and the thing is, realistically, eddie knows this whole thing is weird, blending his two worlds together in a way he's never done before, but it doesn't stop him from forgoing the rules and bringing a hand down to work over his cock. "god, don't stop. please, please, please..."

steve must be tired of the game, too, because he doesn't even attempt to quit what they're doing to punish eddie as he stops writing. he barely has time to appreciate that the game is finally over because the hand in his hair slides around to rest gently around eddie's throat, pulling him up so his back is to steve's chest, every thrust punching out another gasping breath.

"answer the question," he says, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips. "gonna let me use you how i want?"

eddie has died and gone to heaven and the cause of death is a mixture of steve's tongue, hands, and cock. his mind wanders to what else they could do together, what else he'd let steve do, what else he wants steve to do. he sends up a quick thank you to whoever is listening that he saw the job posting for this company so he could be here in this moment with a possible sex god in his midst.

the hand that he had braced on the desk for support makes its way up to cover steve's on his throat, a barely there pressure combined with his quick fingers on his cock that sends him over the edge.

he breathes out a "yes" as he shoots come across the stop of steve's desk and see stars dancing in his eyes. steve fucks him through it, whispers filth of what he wants to do to eddie right into his ear, and when he comes back to himself, he digs his nails in the top of steve's hand.

"want it, want you, however you want me-" he chokes out.

and when steve finally comes inside of him, eddie makes sure he bends back down with his cock still pounding into him to write some line about how nice elidyr thinks it feels to filled up from someone who probably shouldn't be giving him the time of day. he tries not to find parallels as steve kisses up the back of his neck as he rocks his hips for the final time.

eddie's bare ass is in a mixture of their come as they maneuver him around to let him sit up and wrap his legs around steve's hips, pulling their spent cocks together while they lazily make out. steve's hands dance softly over his bare thighs, eddie threads his fingers through steve's hair.

"how does it end?" steve whispers against his lips.

"i don't know yet," eddie says truthfully, his mind wandering as kisses start to trail down his jawline. "how do you want it to end?"

"i don't suppose they have bars in this elf world, do they? one where they can go on an actual date to before going back to the palace or whatever to ravage each other?"

eddie grins, tipping his head back to catch steve's lips one more time in a slow kiss. "i can arrange for them to go to the tavern. i think they'd both like that."

the next morning, slightly hungover and draped over each other in steve's way too large bed, eddie ignores a text from nancy asking why the names change halfway through the draft and wondering who the fuck steve is. eddie silences his phone and goes back to sleep, so glad that he didn't double check his first message yesterday for typos.

#HI this got long so i will be posting it to ao3 #shoutout to mickala and alice for turning me into this monster #pls excuse any and all typos because i wrote this at work and just want to go home #steddie #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie smut #modern steddie #steddie au

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flythesail · 1 year ago

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I miss so much on an initial watch and 4x09 was definitely another one where I liked it on the first watch but needed to rewatch to FULLY appreciate it.

#lots of good stuff in this one #nick and nancy #bess and addy #bess and george #also the CLIFFHANGER #lots of plot info is provided in this one but it all felt effective imo #alsoooo on initial watch the lack of ace at the end bothered me #but upon rewatch it did not at all fjskdkak #i would have liked to see him be there for bess in particular in this one #but i always have to come back to the fact there's only *so* much time in an episode #and the stuff we got with bess and addy as well as bess and george i think should take precedent #still veryyy curious to see where the morgue mystery is going to lead though #it'd be cool if it connects into the main plot but idk #im thinking next week is going to be like a part 2 to this one #nancy drew spoilers #flythepost

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radiant-reid · 4 months ago

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hello lovely!! Hope all is well and you’re healthy and happy. I only recently discovered your account, your post about Spencer’s house drew my attention 😭

I too loved house plans as a child, lol. How many kids do you think Spencer would have, and girls, vs boys, or would he have both (he’s a girl dad we all know, but would there be boys to?), and what would he name them?

i'm happy there were other weird (affectionate) kids out there and i LOVE questions like this so much because it's such a fun imagined scenario to have

he totally gives girl dad to the peak amount. my personal imagined scenario for him is with one kid- girl, two kids- girl and girl, three kids- girl, girl, boy, four kids- girl, girl, boy, girl

i did a list of names a while ago but it's definitely due for an update so here are some ideas i have (please keep in mind that these names are meant to fit his vibe, not considering reader's preferences)

I would categorize them as common-ish, cute and traditional with maybe a little bit vintage. and with him, there's definitely a possibility of a literary reference

girls:

Matilda, Beatrice/Bea, Daisy, Eloise, Harriet, Juliet, Mabel, Maisie, Madeline, Nancy, Sophie, Violet, Charlotte

boys:

Hugo, Parker, Elliot, Nolan, Matthew

also girl or boy: Morgan

#spencer reid

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ladykailitha · 5 months ago

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Sweet Surrender Part 4

Here we are guys, the end of the sequel of the summer Valentine fic. Thank you all who liked, commented, and reblogged this lovely story. I love seeing my regulars interact with their comments and tags. It's makes me so happy.

And if regularly do and haven't lately: I get it, it's not always easy to comment (whether as a comment or in the tags) on every part, just know I missed seeing them.

Sadly no prom-posal because they can't really go together-together, but Eddie did go over and ask in person. He's not a complete idiot.

This is my longest "chapter" I've written clocking out at 3700+ words because I refused to split it up further dammit!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Damn it scheduled for 10pm not am but here we are just a few minutes late.

Eddie sat at the back of the class as he always did, trying to come up with ideas of what to do for prom. Because of course Steve said yes.

Steve’s eyes lit up and he swung Eddie around chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!” until the pair of them fell to the floor giggling like children.

They kissed and laughed until they couldn’t breathe.

Steve already had a suit, he really hadn’t grown that much since the funeral and just needed a nice cummerbund to make it school dance worthy. So he didn’t go with the Hellfire boys to get their tuxes.

Jeff had gone for a blue suit jacket with black pants and bow tie with a white button up. Gareth went for a double breasted black jacket and bow tie with matching pants. Brian had picked up a white jacket and bolo tie with black pants.

Eddie though?

Eddie had gone for a thin black neck tie and tight dress pants and then was going to wear his leather jacket over the top.

Steve was positively salivating at the thought.

They were sitting at the table discussing prom ideas when Nancy came up to Steve.

“Hey, do you have a date to prom?”

Steve and Eddie shared a concerned glance before Steve just shrugged.

“These guys didn’t get dates either,” he explained, “and offered to let me go with them as a group. Why? You asking?”

Nancy’s face twisted in disdain. “No, of course not. I’m not going to that meaningless high school mating ritual.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Jonathan didn’t want to go, huh?”

“He won’t let me pay.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stomped her foot.

Steve rolled his eyes and shared a glance with Eddie who shared his exasperation.

“What do you want, Nance?”

She pursed her lips and looked down at the floor. “I thought that if you had a date, then we could double and Jonathan wouldn’t feel pressured to spend a lot of money.”

Jeff and Brian looked at each other and then burst out laughing with Eddie joining in.

“Tell me you’ve never been poor without telling me you’ve never been poor,” Brian huffed out between gales of laughter. “Jesus H. Christ, he’s gonna feel even more pressure to spend a lot because he’s gonna see Stevie here go all out for his date and he’s going to get flustered and upset he can’t do the same for you then there’ll be huge fight, leaving you stranded at the prom waiting for Mommy Dearest to pick you.” He wiped away a tear of laughter.

Steve nodded and then half shrugged. “I’m with him on that one. It’s a guy thing. You’re out to wound his pride and you’re only going to catch hell for it.”

“Here’s a thought, Nancy Drew,” Eddie said with a menacing grin, “why not skip it and do it next year. At your actual senior prom since he’s so worried about it. Give him time to save up for it so he can do something nice for you and stop pushing people around.”

Nancy’s jaw dropped and she turned to Steve. “Are you just going to sit here and let him talk to me that way?”

Steve swirled in his chair to look up at her. “We aren’t dating, and he’s not wrong. Plus, I’ve been asked to prom by a couple of very forward girls and had hints broadly dropped that I should ask them to prom. Tammy Thompson was the worst of the lot. Talking about how a king should be with a proper queen or some shit like that. And I’ve turned them down because all of them want the Harrington charm and money and not me, also they’ll want sex or worse, to go steady and I just can’t handle that right now.”

He looked pointedly at her.

She frowned for a moment and then her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a silent ‘O’.

“Yeah,” he said, turning in his seat to out his back between them. “So you’ll pardon me if I don’t want to do you any favors.”

She slunk off back to the table with the rest of her friends and Jonathan.

Gareth shook his head. “The absolute nerve. Jesus Fucking Christ.”

Steve could only agree.

“Come on, man,” Gareth huffed, crossing his arms. “If we all pool our money we could rent a limo and show up in style.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed.

They were all sitting around Gareth’s garage making the final plans for prom.

“Dude, you could,” Steve agreed. “But those things take up at least three parking spots and you will have the rest of the student body hate your guts for all of time for it being in the way of everyone else.”

Gareth slunk further into the couch with a sneer. “It can’t be as bad as he’s making it out, he just doesn’t want us to have any fun.”

“That’s because you were a freshman when Tommy H. and Carol Perkins did it for junior prom last year,” Steve said, shaking his head. “They got so much shit for it, and it took Tommy bullying certain people to get it to stop.” He raised his hands. “Something I didn’t condone by the way.”

Jeff winced and shook his head. “Hard pass on being hated more than we already are.”

“I’m with Jeffy on this one Gare-bear,” Eddie said with a grimace. “Let’s take Mr. Romance’s advice on this one, yeah?”

“Fine!” Gareth growled. “But I refuse to get in the fuck ugly Bimmer of Steve’s and I’m not to be seen in these nice suits in Eddie’s van.”

“I never said we couldn’t rent a car,” Steve said reasonably, “just that we shouldn’t rent a limo.”

Suddenly the four other boys were leaning forward in their seats, looking at him in rapt interest.

“What did you have in mind, Stevie?” Eddie asked, slowly licking his upper lip.

“Who hasn’t had the dream of showing up to school in a shiny convertible?” Steve asked with a smirk. “It’ll be nicer than a limo, and most likely cheaper, too. And of course I bet we could get Eddie’s Uncle Wayne to rent it for us, with the little bribe that he gets to drive it around first.”

Eddie threw back his head and cackled. “That would work! He would love the little bribe, too.”

The other three boys looked at each other before Jeff said, “All in favor of getting nice convertible for prom?”

All the hands went up and Steve sat back, looking like that cat that got the cream.

Steve stayed over at Eddie’s the night before the dance. The plan was that after lunch, Steve would go home and get ready for the dance and then Eddie would pick everyone up for dinner then they would go to the dance.

Eddie had other plans, of course, but Steve didn’t know about those. Yet.

Around ten o’clock in the morning, with the two boys still tangled up in each others limbs there was honking of someone’s horn, followed by Wayne yelling at them to get the hell out of bed.

Steve and Eddie blinked bleary-eyed at each other for a moment before the fog of sleep cleared and they were on their feet in an instant. Steve threw on some sweats as Eddie yanked on a pair of jeans. They were out the door before Wayne could honk again.

He was leaning up a red 1984 Chrysler LeBaron five seater with white upholstery with the top down. His arms were crossed and had the biggest smile on his face.

“So what do you think, boys?” he said cocking his head to the side. “You think it’s fancy enough for that dance of yours?”

Eddie and Steve shared matching grins. They ran down the stairs in their bare feet up to Wayne and the car.

Steve was already running his hands over the body of the car. “Wayne, she gorgeous. She wasn’t too much was she?”

Wayne shook his head. “You boys’ money more than covered it for the night. I’ll return it tomorrow with a full tank of gas, no worries.”

Eddie hugged his uncle tightly. “Tonight is going to be the best night ever!”

Wayne hugged him back as Steve continued to admire the car.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to find one that would fit all of us,” he breathed, “but fucking hell. It’s perfect Mr. Munson!”

“I’m glad you’re happy with it, Steve,” Wayne murmured as Eddie let go of him to follow Steve around the car. “Brian will probably have to sit in the front seat to be comfortable, but other than that, you’ll be golden.”

“Well, old man,” Eddie said after Steve and he looked over every inch of the car, “She’s all yours. Just bring her back by five so I can pick everyone else up.”

Wayne chuckled and opened the driver’s side door. “She really is a beaut, Ed. I can’t wait to let her unwind on the open road.”

Steve smiled and shook his head, knowing that he wanted to do the exact same thing. He followed Eddie into the trailer, a skip in his step.

Eddie made for the kitchen to starting making them breakfast and Steve sat down at the small table they had nearby.

“So we’re going out to eat at Enzo’s,” Steve murmured. “Which I really don’t want to know how Gareth pulled that off, considering everyone goes there for prom and getting reservations are vicious. It’s almost a blood sport.”

Eddie chuckled pulling out the eggs to scramble. “Gareth’s mom is friends with the owner and she always has a standing table there.”

“Well that’s a relief,” he said wiping his brow. “I thought he had murdered a couple of our fellow students for the privilege.”

“I love that it’s Gareth you think would be the murderer,” he called over his shoulder, “instead of anyone else coming with us tonight.”

Steve half shrugged and started counting them off on his fingers. “Brian is a staunch pacifist, Jeff gets sick at the sight of blood and you are so sweet that it’s impossible to believe that would harm anyone unless they started shit first.” He tapped his fingers on the surface of the table. “But Gareth is the quiet one and everyone knows that serial killers are the strong and silent types.”

Eddie poured the beaten egg mixture into the heated frying pan and began to stir it around.

“I guess that makes sense,” he said after a few moments. “I love your absolute faith in me, by the way. If there were any serial killings in this town, the mob would come after me first.”

Steve sighed. “True that. Unfortunately.”

Eddie scooped the cooked eggs onto two plates, bringing them over to the table with a couple of forks.

They settled down to eat. After a few minutes of silence Steve asked. “You thinking of doing anything after the dance? I know we haven’t really talked about what we’re doing after.”

Eddie got that soft secret smile that made the butterflies in Steve’s stomach take flight. “There might be a couple of things I might have in mind.”

Steve shook his head fondly. “And let me guess, it’s a surprise and I’m not supposed to know?”

“Yup!” Eddie replied with a grin. “No eat up, I have plans for this morning...” he wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Steve started immediately shoving egg into his face to Eddie’s cackling glee.

To say Steve was nervous would be a fucking understatement. He’d never been picked up for prom before and not knowing when Eddie was going to show up only made his anxiety spike further.

It wasn’t that Steve didn’t know when Eddie was going to leave to start picking everyone up, it was that Steve was third after Brian and Gareth, who were first and second respectively.

In his hand was a corsage for Eddie. It was black rose wrapped in a silver ribbon. And he was doing everything in his power not to crush the clear, plastic box it was in.

There was a knock on the door and Steve’s face fell a little when he saw it was Gareth at the door.

“Wow,” Gareth snarked, “don’t look all excited and shit to see me or whatever.”

“I–I guess I was expecting Eddie...” Steve muttered. He shook his head and tossed the box on the table. “I’m ready to go.”

Gareth frowned a little bit and then his expression cleared when he saw what was in the box. “Oh hell no.” He held up a finger and dashed back to the car. He yanked Eddie out of the driver’s seat and toward Steve’s door.

As they neared Steve heard Gareth grumble, “You are not fucking this up already!”

Eddie opened his mouth to protest when he saw Steve at the door looking dejected. He snapped it shut with an audible click. He saw the box on the table and looked back at Steve.

“You got me flowers?” he breathed. He couldn’t believe it. He had told Steve that he was taking care of everything.

But he forgot one thing and the fact that Wayne hadn’t brought it up, meant that Steve had gotten it for him as a surprise but told Wayne to keep Eddie from buying one for himself.

Steve gulped down the lump in his throat. “It’s just a silly corsage. The other guys aren’t wearing one, so I’ll just tak–” he reached up to remove his own white rose corsage when Eddie put his hands over Steve’s.

“No, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. “I screwed up. I was supposed to be wooing you tonight and I already misstepped. I should have come to the door to pick you up. That wasn’t fair to you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he mumbled still trying to remove his corsage.

Eddie took his face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “Baby, it is. Because it’s important to you. So what we’re going to do is, you’re going to stop trying to remove yours so it doesn’t get ruined,” and immediately Steve’s hands dropped to Eddie’s waist. “Good boy, now the next thing you’re going to do is pin that pretty flower you got for me on my leather jacket and then we’ll go get Jeff, okay?”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and then nodded. Then with trembling hands he took the black rose out of the box and pulled out the pin that would be used to attach it to Eddie’s jacket lapel.

Eddie wrapped his hands gently around Steve’s quivering hands again, this time to calm him. “Take your time, Stevie.”

Steve took a deep breath and looked Eddie in the eyes.

“There you are, princess,” Eddie cooed at how much calmer he looked now. “If it helps, I can knock on the door and we can start over.”

Steve shook his head but took a step back. He brought Eddie’s lips to his and kissed him deeply. “This will just be some stupid story we tell our grandkids when we’re old and grey.”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Only a month in and you’re already planning our grandkids! And I thought I moved fast.”

“Nope!” Steve teased, kissing him again. “You move fast, I move faster.”

Eddie giggled as a more confident Steve pinned the corsage to his leather jacket. They walked out and got into the LeBaron. Steve hopped into the back seat with Gareth who grumbled under his breath.

“I told him he should have gone up there and not send someone else, but noooo,” he muttered darkly. “I’m a little squashmore who’s never gone on a date in my life, what would I know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie huffed. “Rub it in. And where oh font of wisdom did you gain such knowledge, hmm?”

Gareth erupted, throwing his arms in the air. “I watch movies!” he huffed as Eddie pulled out of the driveway. “My mom and brother love romantic comedies. The dude always goes to the door unless he’s meant to be the douchebag loser.”

Steve burst out laughing. “He’s got you there, Eds.”

“Mistake made,” Eddie said dryly, “lesson learned.”

They got to Jeff’s, who’s mother had gotten Brian, Gareth and her son all corsages. They all had a single red rose to match Eddie’s black and Steve’s white roses.

“Ooh,” Eddie murmured. “Uncle Wayne was playing the long game, wasn’t he? He told you not get me and Steve corsages because Steve had them covered, didn’t he?”

Mrs. Laurence shook her head, barely containing her smile. “Steve coordinated it with me and I filled your uncle in.”

Eddie shook his head fondly and took Steve’s hand.

She took pictures of everyone in the tuxes and then sent them off with a wave.

Dinner was amazing. Especially with Steve gently guiding them with which forks to use, the meal was delicious and company was even better.

Their waiter even commented that he wished him and his friends had thought about just getting dressed up anyway and going to prom as friends. It would have been better than them sitting at home eating pizza and feeling sorry for themselves.

Steve just smiled up at him as the rest of them filled him on the rest of their plans. Well... all but Eddie anyway.

They got to the dance and while Mrs. Click was absolutely fuming, she couldn’t bar their entry because there was nothing in the rules that said they had to bring dates and as long as they had their tickets, she had to let them in.

Eddie took great pleasure in smiling at her as they walked into the gym.

The theme was of course Sweethearts so the gym was decked out in hearts of every size and of every shade of pink and red imaginable.

Steve chuckled as Jeff and Brian gagged. Gareth smacked them upside their heads and went off in search of punch, the other two boys shuffling behind him.

Eddie and Steve stood at the entrance a moment.

Eddie rocked back and forth on the balls on his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide how never he felt. “So what do you do at a dance when you can’t dance with the one you want to?”

Steve looked over at him and tilted his head. “Make yourself as big a menace as possible, of course.”

Eddie grinned as Steve grabbed his wrist and they melted into the crowd.

About an hour into it, Eddie led Steve away from all the loud music and sweltering mass of teenage bodies.

“Eddie!” Steve protested with a laugh. “Where are you taking me?”

Eddie just cackled and kept pulling him along. They got the drama room and Steve was amazed he could hear the music.

“How?” he whispered.

Eddie grinned again. “They have speakers in here from the gym. They’re usually turned off as some brave stage crew managed to figure out a way to stop it from streaming in so kids could practice their lines and shit and not have to listen to basketball scores, but I got someone to turn them on for us.”

Steve turned to him in shock. “Us?”

Eddie nodded and led Steve further into the drama room. It was decorated in fairy lights and sparkling hearts.

“Oh, Eds...” Steve breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“I paid one of the drama kids to do this for me so I could surprise you,” he murmured.

Just then a soft love song came over the speakers and he held out his hand to Steve. “Dance with me.”

Steve let out a watery chuckle and folded into Eddie’s arms. They danced cheek to cheek to the music and were still dancing slowly when the song changed to something more upbeat.

“I was so worried I couldn’t dance with you up there,” he murmured into Eddie’s ear, “and then you went and found a way for us to do it down here instead. God, I love you so much, sunshine.”

They kissed and danced until the announcement came over the speakers that they were crowning the prom king and queen. They walked back to the gym hand in hand.

“I tried to get myself removed from the ballot,” Steve said softly just as they reached the doors. “I told them that I didn’t want even be here, but they refused. Said that I was nominated by someone else and only they could remove from the ballot. They wouldn’t even tell me who. But then you came along and I still don’t want to be prom king, but I figured at least being here with you would be worth the price of admission.”

Eddie smiled and kissed him gently. “I think you’d look pretty in a crown, darlin’.”

Steve let out a nervous giggle. “You would.”

They let go of their hands and walk back in.

Steve made prom king. Like everyone assumed he would. And even though Billy hadn’t been on the ballot he came in second place with a lot of write-ins. Steve suspected that Billy had actually won, but as he wasn’t on the ballot and the principal not wanting it to go to a thug like Billy Hargrove had cinched Steve’s bid for the crown.

Prom queen was Tammy Thompson. Which she obviously had insider knowledge of when she broadly hinted to him to take her to prom. She even hissed about him probably wishing he had taken her when he had the chance as to not leave her poor date standing there on the sidelines.

Steve just smiled and nodded and suffered through their dance.

Once it was all done, he handed the bouquet of flowers to Jeff, the sash to Gareth and the crown to Brian.

“You’ve got nothing left, baby,” Eddie murmured as they walked out of the gym and into the darkened halls of the high school.

He gave Eddie’s hand a quick squeeze. “No, Eds. I’ve got you.”

That night after they had done all their after dance activities, they would make love in the back of the LeBaron under the stars at the quarry after they had dropped everyone else off and in the morning after they waved off the LeBaron as Wayne drove it back to the rent shop, Steve would drag Eddie back into the shelter of the trailer and kiss him senseless.

But until then, they had each other and that was enough.

Also if you saw this yesterday NO NO YOU DID NOT!

Tag List: COMPLETE

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @spectrum-spectre

2- @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson

3- @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv

4- @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @dam28lh

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @fullpoetrybread

7- @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @moonshadows-13

8- @skyewaytohell @swimmingbirdrunningrock @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @lololol-1234

9- @dotdot-wierdlife @ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself

10- @w1ll0wtr33 @kultiras @sadisticaltarts @micheledawn1975

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #post season 2

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not-that-dillinger · 2 months ago

Note

“You shouldn’t be out here alone this late.”

The voice is echoed... garbled like it had been through too many layers of distortions gone wrong. The only tell that there was someone nearby on this forsaken piece of digital terrain was a flicker of something dark... cape?... or fabric maybe... just out of sight.

"It... isn't safe... for programs."

He'd had one of those days, where he'd been in not so great a mental space after a board meeting and couldn't go home but the walls of Encom tower felt more oppressive than safe like they usually did, and that perhaps made Ed a little more reckless. He'd gone for a walk, hoping to burn the last of his spoons so that maybe he could just go home and pass out.

He hadn't realized how far he'd walked until he found himself leaning heavily on Colossus, blinking up at the unlit sign of Flynn's arcade. He'd never really thought much about the place; he hadn't been allowed as a kid when it was open, and the one time his father's assistant caught him trying to sneak in with friends, he'd been... discouraged from returning.

Perhaps it was Flynn's old files he'd found on the Encom server that he kept thinking about, that drew him here. The files had been filled with ramblings that lined up so much with the angry rants his father used to have, and Ed couldn't stop thinking about them. He stood in front of the abandoned arcade, and something clicked into place. He realized he might have the missing puzzle piece to solve the mystery of where Flynn disappeared to.

Sherlock Holmes and Nancy Drew had always been a worse influence on him than his father made any of his childhood friends out to be; picking the lock on the door was trivial, and he quickly found the hidden basement.

It took him little time to find the Grid.

It took even less time for them to find him, though they didn't know what to do with the massive dog that had come with him.

They'd stripped him out of his clothes, put him in a light up suit, and given him a disc. They'd put Colossus in a suit and given him a disc as well. And then they marched him to Clu.

Clu had hoped to use him to lure his user out of hiding, and Ed laughed. Rescue his nemesis's son from certain death? Yeah right.

It was the sight of the test tube-looking prison, large enough to contain an adult human, more than Clu's plans to turn him into mindless soldier under his control, that had sent Ed into a panic.

Colossus had always been gentle with other people, and Ed had never seen the dog snap, much less bite someone, but Ed's panic must have triggered something, because the next thing he knew, the guards that had been restraining him were on the ground, and he was sprinting down the hall with Colossus, Clu dropping yellow voxels from the stump of his wrist as he pursued after them.

Ed didn't remember much about the escape, but an explosion or ten later he was hiding in an abandoned building in a darkened sector of the city.

---

That had been... Ed had no idea how long ago. It felt like months. They'd probably given up the search for him, if there even was one when he went missing. The darkened sector made an ideal hiding spot. It seemed like Clu or his forces couldn't track data there, though Ed also couldn't access the Grid to write scripts, execute command lines, or draw energy, which meant that Ed had to venture out in order to obtain energy or code anything he needed. And that meant he had to leave Colossus, since the dog was instantly recognizable.

Regardless, he'd learned how his disc connected him to the Grid, and had figured out how to use it to change his outfit to something slightly closer to his usual clothing with a floor length cloak, and had coded a swordstick with a pigeon-head for a hilt to defend himself with.

It was his third time venturing out, in need of more energy for both himself and Colossus, that he'd been found.

Ed froze, leaning heavily on the swordstick. He was having a low energy day, but he could fight, if it came to it.

He shifted his weight off the cane ever so slightly. "Is that so?" he asked, voice intentionally kept even and calm. "The same could be said of you."

#/* Note: Colossus is Ed's service dog and an Irish Wolfhound */#rp #muse: ed dillinger jr

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worth-the-chaos · 11 months ago

Text

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: With the events of last fall in the past, you attempt to move on, still working on your academics and babysitting Dustin. You and Steve have drifted since your encounter with the otherworldly, but he begins to make more active efforts to talk to you, making sure you have an invite to Tina’s big Halloween party.

Content Warning: swearing, stancy, reference to upside down stuff, billy being an ass, college application stress, drinking, anxiety and trauma

Word Count: 6.3k

Author’s Note: Again, I’m trying to follow a lot of the plot lines of the series for this x reader, so a lot of it is probably a bit familiar! This part follows the reader’s involvement through Halloween, when things begin to turn sour again.

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Next Part

***

You took a deep breath as you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Half-dressed for the day, your eyes couldn’t help but focus on the scars that littered your upper arm, remembering when they used to be deep gashes.

It had been about a year since you stood in the Byers’ house fighting for your life against the horrifying entity from what the kids elected to call the Upside Down. Though your physical wounds had healed, the emotional ones still lingered. Every once in a while, fear invaded your consciousness as you thought back to the flashing lights and the low growl resonating through the small family room. Sometimes when you closed your eyes, you could still see the rows and rows of razor sharp teeth, inching closer and closer to your face.

It was paralyzing, but you shoved those thoughts and feelings aside as you threw a long sleeve shirt on, covering the physical evidence of your fight against the supernatural. Stop thinking about that, you reminded yourself, it’s all over now.

The walk to Hawkins High wasn’t terribly long, though you did still wish you were fortunate enough to afford a vehicle of your own. Once you finally reached the parking lot, a car honk drew you from your thoughts and you were met with the familiar face of the one and only Steve Harrington as he smiled and waved from the driver’s seat. Sat next to him was Nancy Wheeler. Steve’s talk with her in the hospital evidently had been successful because they’d been back together since then, coming up on their first anniversary. You found it difficult to be happy for the couple, but you pushed the jealousy down in your chest and did a small wave back, a half smile on your face. Nancy didn’t respond with the same enthusiasm as Steve, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

The window suddenly rolled down and Steve called out, “Hey y/n! I’ll see you in study hall! I have a question for you!”

“Okay…? See you then, I guess,” you responded, a bit surprised. Since last year, Steve had rethought his life choices. He wasn’t the same douchebag he’d been when he broke Jonathan’s camera and called Nancy a slut. He dropped Tommy H and Carol, started focusing a bit more on school, and was generally a lot nicer than he used to be. However, despite the way you both risked your lives together, blindsided by the paranormal darkness lurking in Hawkins, you both kind of fell out of touch.

He had Nancy and you had…well, you had your studies. And your babysitting gig. One year strong babysitting the Henderson kid, and only one apocalyptic encounter. Needless to say, you were doing pretty damn good.

Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching on the pavement drew the focus of the three of you away from the semi-awkward encounter, watching as a car with California plates peeled into the parking lot. A boy you didn’t recognize stepped out of the car, flicking his cigarette behind him. A young girl emerged from the passenger seat, turning and making her way down the hill in the direction of Hawkins Middle.

You scoffed, being the impeccable babysitter that you were. Was this guy really too lazy to drop his kid sister off at her school that was less than a block away?

He swung his car door shut and paused, looking you up and down before sending a wink and smirk your direction and turning to make his way into the high school. Your hands gripped your backpack straps a little tighter, feeling like an object to be used or consumed under his gaze. You didn’t have a good feeling about this boy, and something told you that Hawkins High had found its replacement for the King Steve that disappeared when Harrington wisened up last year.

“Who is that guy?” You suddenly heard Steve’s voice ask, annoyance painted on his face. He wasn’t too thrilled with the way he had looked at you. Steve knew the type of guy he was; the type that wouldn’t take no for an answer, and in that moment despite the countless girls drooling over his dumbass mullet, he had zeroed in on you.

“Must be new,” you responded, forcing a smile in an attempt to demonstrate that the mystery boy’s actions hadn’t fazed you. You fought an otherworldly entity; surely you could handle some asshole jock. In a way, you already had, and look how that turned out.

“The two of you should steer clear of him. He’s bad news,” Steve warned. Nancy and you didn’t argue, nodding before you took off to enter the building so you wouldn’t be late for first period.

By the time you were on your way to third period study hall, you had already spent the morning contemplating what Steve could possibly have to ask you. It was your junior year, his senior, and while you were taking it for the extra study time, he was taking it to avoid coursework from one more class, largely using it as a time to take a school sanctioned nap. As such, normally you didn’t interact much during the one hour break from boring lectures and busy work.

“Hey,” Steve whispered as he slid into the chair next to you, a stark juxtaposition to the way he slammed his textbooks on the desk, causing you to jump.

“What? Not taking your spot in the back corner so you can sleep without Mrs. Reed giving you shit?” You asked, staring up at him innocently.

“Actually, I was thinking I could get us out of here for the hour.”

“And how do you suppose that’s going to happen?”

“I’ll put on the old Harrington charm…just watch,” he smirked as he stood up, grabbing you by the elbow to drag you to the teacher’s desk. Mrs. Reed was not the type of person to mess with. She wore her hair up in a slicked back bun that meant business, wearing a scowl like it was an accessory. You seriously doubted the “Harrington charm” was going to do shit to get you out of that classroom.

She glared at the boy through her thin wire glasses, clearly not in the mood for his shenanigans. “Is there a problem?” She droned out, her expression fixing further into annoyance, if that was even possible.

“Actually, Mrs. Reed, I’m afraid there is,” he started, “you see, y/n here was just telling me about how she has this big presentation in her fourth hour class, and she was really hoping for an opportunity to practice. Is there any possible way you’d be so gracious as to let us utilize one of the study rooms in the library? I mean, we can’t go letting Hawkins’ star pupil do anything less than ace this thing, am I right?”

He shook you by your shoulders a bit at the end, and even though the compliment was nothing more than a lie, you still flushed under the praise. It wasn’t everyday that you got complimented in front of your entire study hall class by the most popular student in the school.

“Is that so, y/n?” She turned to you.

“You know me and my nerves, Mrs. Reed; I could really use the help. And besides, Steve is probably about the most rowdy audience I could possibly have, so presenting after this will be a piece of cake,” you pasted a smile on your face. You felt bad lying to her; she’d been a pretty decent English teacher your sophomore year.

“Fine. Don’t worry about coming back before the end of the hour. I know I can trust you to keep Harrington in line,” she answered, glaring at Steve before turning back to the work on her desk, done with the bullshit of high school students; the good ones and the bad ones alike.

You both quickly thanked her before Steve grabbed both of your backpacks and you headed out the door.

“Okay, if I’m going to be completely honest, I was about 85% sure that wasn’t going to work. Mrs. Reed fucking hates me…like a lot,” Steve breathed out as he tossed you your bag, his cocky facade finally dissipating as he continued down the hall.

“This better be a good fucking question, Steve,” you grumbled, not happy about the lie he forced you into, “what am I supposed to do if she asks me about my presentation? What am I supposed to do if she talks to Mr. Hayes?”

“Woah, woah, woah, cool your jets,” he rolled his eyes, “Mrs. Reed is probably a year or two away from retirement and barely even cares about the shit she’s teaching, so I think you’re going to be fine.”

You entered the library, quickly moving to one of the study rooms. You tossed your bag on the floor, already tired from the day and not fully emotionally prepared to spend an hour one on one with Steve.

“Alright, what’s the deal?” You asked as you sat in one of the chairs, crossing your arms as your face fixed into a glare.

“Well, first of all, here,” he shoved an obnoxiously orange flyer at you. You grabbed it a bit aggressively, still not super happy with the boy in front of you. He had a dorky-ass grin on his face though, and it almost broke the cold exterior you were trying to keep up….almost.

“‘Tina’s Halloween Bash, come and get sheet faced,’ are you kidding me? This is what we’re skipping study hall for? Dude, I have an AP chem test this week that I really needed to study for,” you whined, shoving the flyer back at him.

“No, of course this isn’t the reason we’re skipping. I may be dumb, but I’m not an idiot,” he said as he shoved the flyer back at you, “It’s just…I know you never go out, a-and—and it’s Halloween! You can’t stay in on Halloween! Plus, Nancy and I are going to be there, so it’ll be fun, I swear it.”

He leaned across the table, the elbow of his right arm settling right in the middle as he reached his hand towards you. Your focus shifted to his extended pinky. You looked at him incredulously as he waggled it a few times, looking at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes. This boy was going to be the death of you, but you wrapped your small pinky around his anyway.

“I’ll consider it. That’s the best you’re getting.”

“You know what, I’ll take it. Which brings me to my next topic, and pretty much the entire reason for this in the first place, which is that Nancy thinks my application essay sucks and I really need some fucking help,” Steve leaned back while he ran his hands down his face.

You felt a pang in your heart because you knew how stressful this all probably was for the boy. You’d been smart and planned accordingly, so getting into colleges wasn’t the part that was stressing you out; it was the finances that did. Steve on the other hand had screwed around for two and a half years and now somehow needed to manage turning things around enough so that he had even a fighting chance.

“Just give it to me,” you sighed and he quickly handed over the essay he had written.

Steve watched your eyes scan the page as you read the words that he had spent the last week writing. He was a bit embarrassed, to say the least; he had taken one English class with you last semester and knew that he didn’t even write half as well as you did. Hell, Nancy didn’t even come close and her writing was really, really good.

“You…you compared winning a basketball game to your grandfather fighting in the war?” You asked incredulously.

“…yeah?”

“Steve.”

“I know, I know! It’s bad, but that’s why I need your help! I was gonna have Nancy help me but we have this thing tonight and I can’t miss it and—“

You cut him off. “Steve, stop talking. I can help you…but I think you’re going to have to rewrite this whole thing.”

Steve hung his head and buried his face in his hands. Of course I’m gonna have to rewrite the damn thing because it can never just be fucking easy. He felt your hands pull on his wrist and he looked up, finding you staring at him sweetly. A bit pitying, but it was still sweet. With that, some of his anger subsided and he took a deep breath.

“You just need to find something more meaningful to you. I mean, I can tell your heart really isn’t in this. Besides, sometimes the best essays are about the things you’ve lost, not the things you’ve won.”

Steve thought about this. He lived a pretty privileged life. He didn’t want for anything, his future was pretty much set so long as he took the job at his dad’s company, he had the girl, the car, the hair, etc. Sure, his parents kind of really, really sucked but that was small potatoes compared to all of the things he had easy. It was hard to think of something he really, truly lost.

He almost had lost you.

His thoughts flashed to the demogorgon, the way his heart stopped and instinct took over as he had swung the bat with all his might to get the damn thing away from you. He pushed the thought away and suddenly he wasn’t interested in working on this essay anymore.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m gonna need some time to brainstorm some things to write about, but in the meantime, how about we focus on that AP chem test, huh? I mean, there’s no way you don’t have color-coded flash cards and all that jazz”

“Steve, you really don’t have to. I’m sure you have a lot better things to do than to help me cram for some dumb test.”

“Hey, first of all, if it’s important to you, it’s not dumb. Secondly, I might be a shit learner, but I’m a pretty damn good quizzer, so hand ‘em over,” he motioned for you to hand him your index cards as you sheepishly pulled them out of your backpack in their color-coded glory.

“How could I have possibly known?” He feigned surprise.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

***

When all was said and done, you felt moderately better about your AP chem test. Steve wasn’t lying when he said he was a good quizzer; by now, you had every word on every one of those damn cards memorized. During your walk to the Henderson household, you pulled the bright orange flyer out of your pocket. You couldn’t help but smile thinking back to Steve inviting you. He wanted you to be there.

“Y/n!” Dustin drew you out of your thoughts as you quickly shoved the flyer back into your back pocket. The middle school and the high school let out at the same time. He wasn’t far behind you, sat atop his bike as he hopped off and walked with it next to him so he could talk to you.

“You can ride your bike home. I seriously doubt you can get into any serious sort of trouble in the five minutes it takes me to catch up,” you reminded him, though you weren’t entirely sure that was true; in fact, the boy was such a problem sometimes that you considered upping your rate to charge his mom for hazard pay.

“First off, I think you underestimate how much faster I can get home on my bike than you can on foot. Secondly, what was that you just put in your pocket?”

“It-It’s nothing,” you said maybe a little too quickly as your face heated up.

“Bullshit. Spill.”

You sighed. “It’s just some stupid flyer for a big Halloween party. Nothing that concerns you, unless you somehow age several years in the next few days and are suddenly eligible to attend,” you joked, sarcasm lacing your tone as you tried to gather your bearings and act more casual. He didn’t need to know that, to you, it was more than just some Halloween party; it was a Halloween party that Steve Harrington had invited you to.

“You don’t go to parties though,” Dustin was quick to remind you. He was right. Sure, early on in high school you’d been invited to a few, but after you continued to decline, people stopped reaching out.

“Well…there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” you muttered.

“Are you gonna dress up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who invited you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Was it a guy?”

“No!”

“So it was a guy!” Dustin exclaimed. You rolled your eyes and jogged ahead, trying to put some distance between you and the incessant questioning of the boy you had the great misfortune of babysitting.

“Your silence is incriminating!” He shouted after you, unable to run very gracefully while attempting to guide a bike around.

You shook your head and sighed. Could babysitting Henderson ever be easy?

***

You walked towards Tina’s house feeling more than just stupid. You didn’t even know Tina super well outside of her always bumming notes off of you when she missed fifth period French. After your conversation with Dustin, you began considering the many elements of a Halloween party that had slipped your mind when you pinky promised Steve you’d go. You hadn’t thought about a costume because, frankly, you hadn’t initially been planning on doing anything for Halloween; it was just going to be another Wednesday for you.

As such, you had decided not to dress up, instead opting to pick apart your closet to find clothes that would maybe scream “party,” settling on your favorite pair of jeans, a low cut black tank top, and a denim jacket. So, yeah, you weren’t in costume, but at least your tits had kind of showed up to the party, so you decided that was good enough.

The mess of bodies dancing at different levels of sobriety made it difficult to navigate the front lawn and you hoped with all your might that Steve and Nancy were already there. You got closer to the front door when you heard the headache inducing sounds of high school testosterone as a bunch of the douchebags from Hawkins High hyped up Mr. California for doing an absurdly long keg stand.

Gee. Great.

As you reached to grasp the doorknob to let yourself into the party, a hand from behind you slammed the door back shut just as soon as you had opened it. You were met eye to eye with the mullet headed, leather jacket wearing douchebag himself. Something was off about this boy (besides the fact that he was unbelievably hammered), and you thought back to Steve’s warning to stay away.

“Hey,” he slurred as he looked you up and down, his eyes pausing longer than they should’ve when they reached your chest. You felt small under his hungry gaze, but you refused to allow yourself to visibly shrink so you straightened your posture and forced your chin up as you looked him in the eye.

“Excuse you,” you muttered as you tried to pull on the door handle again. Obviously it didn’t budge, and he laughed at your attempt. You scowled as you met his eyes again. “What’s your deal, man?”

“The name’s Billy. Billy Hargrove,” he shot you a smirk that screamed trouble as he extended his hand towards you, offering up a handshake.

What a total ass. Fortunately though, he was cocky enough to think that striking up a conversation would cause you to stay, removing his hand from the door, so you took the opportunity to maneuver past him, opening the door and slipping inside.

“Frankly, I don’t give a shit,” you added before slamming the door in his face. You saw the look of shock flash across his features before he disappeared from view and you couldn’t help but feel good about it. The feeling quickly dissipated though as you attempted to weave around the living room, nearly tripping as you made your way into the kitchen where you met Nancy.

“What’s in this?” She was asking a guy in a toga. You recognized him from your second period class, but you didn’t know his name.

“Pure fuel! Pure fuel! Whoo!” He shouted back at her, and you realized you were perfectly fine not getting to know him.

“Well, with that ringing endorsement, we’d be dumb not to have a little, right?” You chuckled and Nancy spun around at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n, you made it,” she said, smile not really touching her eyes, “Steve wasn’t sure you were going to show.” Both of you dipped red solo cups into the questionable mixture, filling them up with the red mix of booze and punch.

“Yep, here I am. In the flesh,” you laughed again, trying to dispel the awkward energy. Something about her seemed off; normally she would be much more friendly. You hoped that you hadn’t done anything to upset her. “Nancy, is everything okay?” You asked quietly as you gently grabbed her wrist.

“I’m fine,” she replied as her jaw set and her tone told you not to push the question. You let go of her wrist and nodded, letting her know that you were going to let it go for now. Her body relaxed and you lifted up your cup toward her.

“Cheers?” You asked with a half smile on your face. This earned you a small smile from the girl as she brought her cup up to tap yours. You smiled and both of you brought your cups to your lips, you taking a small sip while she threw her head back and downed the whole glass.

“Hey! Woah, woah, woah, take it easy! Nance!” Steve was suddenly beside you, reaching across you to try and grab the cup out of her hand.

“We’re just being stupid teenagers for the night. Wasn’t that the deal?” She glared at him before downing more punch, wiping away the bit that spilled onto her face, and shoving her way into the crowd to dance.

Steve’s expression fell a bit as he watched her leave, but his focus shifted to you. “Sorry about that. She’s just…in a bit of a mood today,” he apologized and shook his head, “but I’m so glad you’re here! I mean, I was pretty sure you were gonna bail on me considering I know for a fact that you were invited to some of my house parties last year and you didn’t show.”

“How dare I, right?” You rolled your eyes and chuckled. It’s true. You had been invited to his parties, especially after your encounter with the demogorgon had brought the two of you together in a weird but irreversible way. You would always have that experience, but you weren’t interested in changing for him. Besides, he was never the one to personally extend the invitation, instead you heard about it from someone else every time.

“You aren’t in costume.”

“Way to point out the obvious,” you retorted, finishing your first cup of punch. Steve shot you a look, clearly not trusting that you knew your limits with alcohol. “You’re joking, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it seems a bit hypocritical for the king of parties himself to be judgmental about someone else’s drinking habits.”  “Well, it’s exactly that. I don’t get the impression that you have drinking habits, and if it’s your first time drinking, you should watch yourself, you know? Can’t fault me for looking out for a friend,” he added and you bristled a bit at that last word. Friend.

“Y/n, what?” He asked, noticing your reaction. You sighed before responding, not really sure how this conversation was going to go.

“So…we’re friends now?” You asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

Steve was taken aback, clearly confused by your confusion. “What do you mean? Of course we’re friends! Y/n, we went through so much together last year, I mean, did you really think I was just gonna drop you like all that shit didn’t matter?”

“You kind of did. It’s not like we hang out or really talk or anything remotely close to what friends would do. We’re just two people who know each other a little bit better than we did. I wouldn’t necessarily call that ‘being friends’,” you responded, putting air quotes around the final words. You hoped that your statement didn’t hurt him. It was the truth though. Your shoulders tensed as you awaited his response.

“You know what? You’re right y/n, and I’m sorry. I should’ve done more to keep in touch, and I’m not going to make any excuses. So let’s just start over, okay?” He asked, his big brown eyes staring into yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you nodded, not trusting that your voice wouldn’t fail you.

“Alright, perfect,” he smiled, and suddenly he extended his hand towards you, “hey, I’m Steve. I don’t know you but you seem pretty tough, and like you might have some killer fighting instincts, so I thought we could be friends.”

You laughed. Like really laughed, and Steve was beaming. You wiped away a tear that slipped from your eye as you took a breath to regain your composure. It was all so absurd and perfect and so incredibly Steve that you couldn’t help but accept his offer. You willed your palms not to sweat as you grabbed his hand and shook it, “Well, I’m y/n, and yeah, you’re right; I do have some pretty kick-ass instincts, but I can’t promise it will keep you out of trouble.”

“That’s okay because I’ve got some pretty kick-ass moves myself, so I think we’ve got it covered,” he added, smiling at you. He let go of your hand before saying “well, Nancy’s probably halfway to being shit faced, so we should probably go party it up with her while her memory’s still intact.”

You nodded as you turned to exit the kitchen, Steve placing a hand on your back as he guided you through the mess of people dancing to get to Nancy. It was fun to let loose and dance, and you wondered why you hadn’t let yourself party like this before. It felt freeing, and you felt the slight buzz from the drinks that you’d had as you let your body move to the music that was almost too loud to hear yourself think.

Suddenly, you felt hands around your waist, and you instantly sobered up, remembering a big part of why you didn’t like parties: asshole guys who were just looking for a quick hook up.

“Hey!” You shouted as you turned around, eyes met with the same piercing blue ones from earlier.

“Woah, no need to get all angry, baby. I gotta say it’s pretty hot though,” Billy chuckled as he moved his hands to grab at your waist again. You maneuvered away from his grasp, swatting his hands away.

“Can’t you tell I’m not fucking interested,” you replied.

“Baby, come on—“

You cut him off, “I’m not your fucking baby.”

“No need to be a bitch about it, come on. Can’t have a little fun?”

“She said she’s not interested, dude. Leave her alone,” Steve spoke up, having realized the position you were in. He moved to stand between the two of you, pulling you by the wrist behind him. Nancy was pretty wasted but aware enough to act, as she took your hand and pulled you farther away, weaving through the crowd to create some distance.

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware that you had two girlfriends, Harrington. I mean, I’m shocked you even have the one to begin with,” Billy retorted, taking a step towards Steve.

Steve stood his ground, knowing it wasn’t worth it to get heated over Billy’s comments. Billy just wanted to get a rise out of him and Steve wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction.

“I’m just looking out for a girl that needs help. If you’re not going to listen to her maybe you’ll listen to a guy, okay? So walk away.”

“Whatever, Harrington,” Billy replied as he shoved Steve in the shoulder and turned around to walk away. Tommy H was hot on his heels, a mindless dummy and fair weather fan to whoever he deemed to be top dog at any given moment.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Steve caught up with you and Nancy.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Ugh, I just hate assholes, like come on!” You exclaimed, hugging your arms around yourself in an attempt to be self-soothing.

Steve opened his mouth to apologize when he realized Nancy was going back to the punch bowl. He quickly pivoted, following her into the kitchen. “Nancy, no, you’ve had enough, okay?” He said as he tried to grab the cup out of her hand again like he had earlier.

“Screw you,” she slurred, pulling her hand out of his reach and dunking her cup in the bowl.

“No, Nancy, I’m serious! Stop…Nance, put it down,” he warned, grabbing at the cup again. Nancy continued to protest, and Steve continued to fight it until he lost his grip on the cup and its bright red contents went spilling onto Nancy’s pristine white shirt. An audible gasp rang out through the party as those in the near vicinity stopped their dancing to gawk at Hawkins’ power couple’s power struggle.

“What the hell?” Nancy whispered as she stormed out of the room, and Steve pushed past you to follow, yelling after her. And just like that, you were alone. Without Steve and Nancy’s presence to calm you down, you felt your anxiety rise in your throat. You scanned the crowd, trying to find anyone that you knew moderately well enough to crash their group, and when you found no one, you cursed yourself for being such a loner. That was until your eyes met Jonathan Byers’, dressed equally un-festively, and you sighed a huge sigh of relief.

“Jonathan!” You shouted over the music, making your way over to him. Clearly he had seen what just transpired between Nancy and Steve, eyes darting back to focus on the hallway they’d disappeared down.

“Hey, y/n. What just happened?”

“Nancy’s pretty wasted and Steve was trying to cut her off and he spilled her drink on her. They’re probably in the bathroom trying to clean it up, though I doubt it’ll do any good. That punch is definitely going to stain.”

You didn’t know Jonathan super well, but you resonated with him. Both of you were more inclined to keep to yourselves, but via absurd and inter-dimensional means, ended up intertwined in the lives of your high school’s most popular couple. You saw the way he looked at Nancy when they talked, and it wasn’t dissimilar to how you looked at Steve; wanting for something that you couldn’t have but settling for what you did.

The two of you found a quiet corner and continued to make small talk, catching up on each other’s lives since you didn’t talk much. Jonathan told you about how Will was struggling, still visiting Hawkins’ Lab for appointments in an attempt to sort out his PTSD.

“The doctor says it’s some anniversary effect, and how since we’re coming up on a year, he’s just more on edge than usual. He’s been having these episodes though.”

“Episodes?”

“Yeah, they’re kind of like these waking nightmares I guess. He’s still scared out of his mind, y/n,” Jonathan explained, and you saw the pain in his expression. Your heart ached and you felt a lump in your throat as you thought about the way the poor kid was struggling. You wished you could just make it all go away, that you could erase it ever happening in the first place.

“And you trust this guy? The doctor I mean?” You asked hesitantly.

“He seems like a good guy. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like he’s being completely transparent. I guess I’m on edge too. It just seems like everyone’s bracing for something else to happen,” Jonathan added, and you felt the tension in your shoulders as he said it.

Suddenly, Steve stormed through the family room, Nancy noticeably absent. He quickly maneuvered through the crowd, reaching the front door and slamming it shut behind him.

You looked at Jonathan. “Divide and conquer?” You asked, knowing that the two of you were going to have to pick up the pieces of whatever had happened between the two of them. Jonathan quickly nodded, as you dropped your prior conversation. “Okay, I don’t have a car and Nancy’s not in a state to walk home, so you take care of her and I’ll handle Steve,” you added as you started walking backwards to make your way towards the door.

“Are you sure? He seems pretty mad.”

“I’ve handled worse!” You shouted back as you turned and swiftly made it out the door. Your eyes scanned the front lawn, still littered with people, but they quickly found the brown mop of hair that you had become familiar with just as he was reaching his car.

“Steve!” You shouted, but he ignored you, fumbling with his keys as he tried to unlock the door. By the time he finally managed to get it unlocked and opened, you had grabbed the side of the door so he couldn’t close it and drive off.

“Y/n, just leave me alone, okay? I’m seriously not in the mood,” he warned, his head hung as he tried desperately to avoid eye contact with you. His voice wavered a bit and you could tell by his body language that he was pretty upset.

“No, I’m not going to leave you alone; you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Then get in the car because I’m not fucking staying here,” he sighed and you hesitated before moving around to the passenger seat.

“What happened?” You gently asked as he began to pull away from Tina’s house, the night that you had all been anticipating clearly ending in disaster.

“Oh, you know, just Nancy saying that our relationship is pretty much complete and utter bullshit which is what every guy wants to hear from the woman that he loves,” he replied. His announcement of his love for Nancy stung, but you pushed it aside; this wasn’t about your feelings.

“What do you mean? What’s going on? You guys always seem so happy together,” you were honestly pretty shocked. They were the perfect couple; the kind of people who would end up high school sweethearts and the talk of every high school reunion. It couldn’t possibly all be bullshit.

“The Hollands are selling their house to pay some private investigator to find Barb.”

Oh.

Your stomach dropped and suddenly your body seemed to remember the alcohol you had consumed.

“Steve, stop the car.”

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s going on? Are you—“

You cut him off, shouting “just stop the damn car! Now!” The car screeched to a halt as he slammed his foot on the brake pedal. You quickly opened the door, retching onto the desolate backroad that you were currently on. Steve rubbed big circles across your back as your stomach emptied its contents. When you were done, you shut the door, tears running down your face.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. Sometimes I just forget about all of it; push it all away because I’m not ready to handle it and I just think about what it was like to be face to face with th-that—that thing and I can’t imagine what Barb’s final moments were like and I just—“ your sobs cut you off, unable to speak through your horror in contemplating Barb’s death.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay y/n. I’m right here,” Steve reminded you, pulling you into a hug as you buried your face in his neck. He held onto you until you were able to calm down and you pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry. I monopolized your turn being the one in crisis,” you let out a weak laugh, wiping the remaining tears from your eyes as you sniffled.

“No, honestly that was helpful. I think I get where Nancy’s coming from a little better now. Maybe she didn’t really mean all that shit about us, you know?” He rationalized.

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied, your voice small.

“Hey, don’t disappear on me now. We’re handling this crisis together and we’re putting it behind us, okay? So what’s going on?”

“It’s just…I was almost her,” you whispered, looking in horror at Steve.

“What?”

“I was almost Barb. If you hadn’t shown up—“

“Y/n, don’t think like that. You can’t think like that. It’s going to eat away at you. You’re here. I’m here. And we’re okay,” it seemed like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you. You nodded, not entirely persuaded but ready to be done with the conversation. “Alright, where to?”

“Just mine, you know,” you said quietly, embarrassed that Steve was going to see your house. It was dinky compared to the Harrington residence. You knew he wouldn’t care, but you couldn’t help but feel inferior.

“Sure thing,” he replied as he put the car in drive, as you both attempted to put the evening’s sourness behind you. You chatted and caught up on all of the normal things you’d missed as you’d drifted apart this past year and by the time he reached your house, you felt a little bit better about things.

If only the two of you knew about the danger that was still lurking right under your feet.

***

a/n: I hoped y’all liked this chapter! I’m so excited to continue this story as we unpack all of the upside down nonsense of season 2! I’m new to this whole writing fanfic thing, so if you really liked it, I would be forever grateful if you would be so kind as to reblog it! It really helps it get to other people!

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