#STEVE TREATS ME LIKE SHIT AND I’M ABOUT TO GO OFF ON HIM TOO

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Giving Thanks

steddie, omegaverse, family dinner, treat for best behavior 😈, mdni 🔞

Eddie loves his boyfriend. He loves him. He loves Steve so much. But he has to keep reminding himself of that fact while he’s at the Harrington’s for Thanksgiving.

They’ve been dating since the fall of Steve’s junior year, and Eddie has met Steve’s mom a handful of times, she’s nice if a bit oblivious. But his dad has been out of town on business every time Eddie’s come over for dinner, so he’s successfully sweated through his first iron-gripped handshake from Richard Harrington today. Now he just needs to survive being in a room full of Reagan Republicans without jumping on a table and calling them fascists.

Steve can clearly see that Eddie is about to lose it as his Uncle Charles drones on about the stock market and returns on his investments at one end of the room, and his Aunt Maureen praises Nancy Reagan’s crusade against drugs and music with explicit lyrics at the other. He squeezes Eddie’s hand and whispers in his ear, “Babe, let’s go get some air,” before making their excuses to his Grandpa Otis and dragging Eddie to the ensuite for the first floor guest room, locking the door behind them.

“Thank you for telling your mom that Wayne picked up a shift today so he didn’t have to be here, too,” Eddie mumbles, hiding his face against Steve’s neck.

“You’re doing so fucking good, Eddie. I’m sorry they’re all like this.” Steve slides his fingers into Eddie’s hair and scratches at his scalp.

“Your grandpa’s pretty cool, kinda racist, but…”

“I know. But we just need to make it through another couple hours, and then you get to unwrap your present.” He guides Eddie’s lips to his, kissing him softly. “But I think you deserve a little peek now,” Steve adds with a wink as he lets go and steps back.

Reaching down, Steve grips the hem of his sweater and raises it to his collarbones, showing off the delicate bralette he put on that morning. His dusky nipples show through the lace, and Eddie stares. He’s seen Steve naked plenty, but this lingerie set is new to him, and the bralette frames his tits so well. “So beautiful, Baby,” Eddie murmurs, stepping in to grip Steve’s side, his thumbs rubbing over his nipples as he bends down to place a kiss in the shallow valley between Steve’s breasts.

Steve chuckles and pets Eddie’s hair. “Do you think that’s enough to get you through dinner?” he asks.

“No,” Eddie whines, pinching one of Steve’s nipples.

“Puppy…” Steve warns around a moan.

Eddie brings a hand down to hold Steve’s waist, grinding their hips together. “Want you, Stevie. Please,” he gasps against Steve’s ear.

“We cannot have sex in this bathroom, my mom would lose her shit.”

“I can’t believe she thinks we haven’t had sex yet.”

“That’s the only reason she’s let you into the house. My mom’s a big believer that omegas shouldn’t put out until they’ve got a rock on their finger.”

“Yet she pays for your birth control.”

“I’ve got an irregular cycle!” Steve hisses, swatting at Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie grins, hips moving as he whispers, “We both know that’s not true, Baby. You just like the feeling of me coming inside you.”

“Eddie…” Steve whines, forcing his sweater back down. “Just a couple more hours, and we get to go have pie with Wayne. Then you get to see my matching panties.”

That’s finally enough to get Eddie to agree to return to the gathering. He’s good for the rest of the afternoon, except for when Uncle Gene goes off on a rant about unions and Eddie practically shouts, “MY UNCLE IS A UNION STEWARD!” It honestly makes it easier for Steve to say they’ll take dessert to go.

Wayne has the game on when the boys arrive with an entire pecan pie. They all put up their feet as they eat massive pieces of pie and Steve and Wayne talk about football; Eddie’s focus is entirely on sneaking his hands under Steve’s sweater to toy with his bra strap.

Just as the news starts, Wayne slaps his knees and says, “Well-p, I’ve got a card game to get to, you boys don’t get up to too much trouble while I’m gone.”

Steve smiles and wishes Wayne good luck. Eddie hides his face in Steve’s hair and mumbles, “Bye, Wayne!” He drags Steve to his bedroom as soon as the door is closed behind his Uncle.

Quirking an eyebrow, Steve pulls his sweater up over his head, once again revealing white lace. He doesn’t have time to do anything else as Eddie practically tackles him and fits his mouth over Steve’s nipple, mouthing wetly through the fabric. “Oh, fuck,” Steve moans, fingers tangling in Eddie’s curls, holding him in place.

Eddie bites once, pleased to see how much darker that nipple is now than its twin, pulling back and reaching for Steve’s belt. He undoes Steve’s fly, pushing his dress slacks down to pool at his ankles, fingers catching on the open-lacing at the back of his panties. “Oh, Stevie,” Eddie purrs, “Give us a twirl.”

Steve grins, completely aware of how much this is effecting his alpha, and slowly turns to show off his underthings from every angle.

After, Eddie tears off his own sweater and dark jeans, and pounces, pinning Steve to his bed. “Fuck, Baby,” he breathes, “I ever tell you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

“Only every damn day,” Steve answers, pulling Eddie down for a kiss. Eddie’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him, too.

[eddiesxangel]

Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader

TJ’s 2K Request celebration!

@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”

Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers

WC: 3.1k

I hope you enjoy!! 💗

“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”

A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.

You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.

“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.

“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.

“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.

You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.

“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.

You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.

“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.

Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.

You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.

Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”

You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.

Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?

That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.

“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”

“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.

“I just think— "

"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.

"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."

“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.

"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.

"Yes, you do."

"When have— "

"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"

"Sweetheart I—"

"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."

"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I don’t want to."

"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.

“Woah, see my point exactly.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.

Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.

The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.

Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.

You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.

That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.

“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”

“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.

Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.

So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.

You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.

You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.

Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.

You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.

After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.

You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.

“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”

You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, Angel”

Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.

“I didn’t know you stayed?”

“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.

“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.

“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.

“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”

You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.

Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.

“Oh god”

“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.

“You said it was demeaning…”

“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.

“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.

“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.

“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”

Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?

“You do?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.

“Oh?” You were in shock.

“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.

“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.

“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”

“Kiss me.”

Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.

You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.

You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.

No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.

Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?

“I think we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"

"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.

"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."

"Okay, Eddie."

Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.

You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.

Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.

hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.

"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"

“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.

Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.

Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.

“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.

Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.

“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”

“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.

Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.

“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.

“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.

“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”

“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.

“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.

You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.

“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.

“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.

Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.

Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.

When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.

Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.

You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.

When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.

You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.

The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.

“I want you,” you repeat yourself.

Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.

You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.

“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.

“Yes.”

He quickly got up and you moaned,

“What are you?- oh,” you blush

You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.

Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?

“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.

Cocky, shit.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.

“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.

“I have my toys.”

Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Finally”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.

“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.

“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”

That made your pussy clench down again.

“Oh, you like that?”

You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.

“Noted”

You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.

“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.

“Harder”

“You sure”

“Yes, god yes!”

Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.

“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.

Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.

"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.

A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.

The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.

"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."

Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.

Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.

With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"That good, huh?"

"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.

"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.

"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.

"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "

Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites

@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv

[steddielations]

Steve acts on instinct.

There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.

There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.

They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.

“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.

“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”

Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”

It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”

“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”

Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.

“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.

He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.

It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.

“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”

Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.

“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”

Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.

Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.

“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.

“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.

The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.

He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.

“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”

He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”

“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.

“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”

Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.

“I think I’d definitely remember you.”

Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.

“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”

Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”

“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”

Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”

“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.

Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.

It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.

That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.

Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.

“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.

“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”

He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.

Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.

He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.

Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.

“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.

Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.

What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.

At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.

Oh.

He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—

Yeah, just. Oh.

Part 2

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 17

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16

Eddie’s back to school on Tuesday, black eye turning a mottled sort of green, lip scabbed over. From where he’s hemmed in by Robin and Chrissy, Steve watches Eddie catch a glimpse of him and bolt the other way.

Jeff sighs, lets go of his hold on Chrissy’s arm, and says, “sorry, Steve. I’m just gonna—” and then he points toward Eddie and follows after him without another word.

Steve’s gut clenches with guilt. He’d put that look on Eddie’s face, had caused the rift in his and Jeff’s friendship, had split the forming group up with his ridiculous crush. But Chrissy and Robin are still here, standing by his side.

“Are he and Jeff okay?” Steve asks, biting his lip as he glances at Chrissy.

“I think so,” she says, looking after her boyfriend. “They talked on the phone, but Jeff didn’t tell me what about.”

“Forget about them,” Robin replies, reaching out to take his hand even as it makes everyone around them stare. “Come on, Stevie, or we’ll be late to Ms. Clickity Clack’s class.”

Steve passes the rest of the day in a daze, the spot at his side a revolving cast of Chrissy, Robin, and Jeff, like they’d all talked behind his back and decided he couldn’t be trusted with being alone right now. Steve can’t blame them because as soon as he’s left unattended in his big empty house, he gets out his notebook and pen, and begins to write.

   Eddie —

   I’m sorry I never got to read your last letter, but it wasn’t for me anyways. Maybe none of them were, not really. And I’m sorry about that, even sorrier about how your pretty face got caught in the ceasefire. I’m just full of sorries I’m to scared to tell to your face—from the way you ran when you saw me in the hallway this morning, maybe you wouldn’t want me to anyway.

   You’ve always been the brave one, so you must really want to not see me, huh? I hope you and Jeff are friends again. I’m sorry about that too, I’m the one who asked him not to tell you. I was afraid, but that’s no excuse.

   I don’t know how to stop wanting to right write to you. I can’t turn off the part of me that still wants to know everything about you. There’s a whole in my heart, and I keep trying to find people to fill it, but I can never be in love with someone who loves me back. You know?

   I’m sorry, Eddie. Maybe someday, I’ll get to say it to your face.

   Sorry,

   Steve

He closes the notebook on the damning words and shoves it into his nightstand so he doesn’t have to look at it. Sleep doesn’t come—the house is too quiet. He grabs the phone off his dresser and calls the only other person he knows whose parents trust them enough to have a phone in their bedroom.

“H’lo?” Robin mutters sleepily after finally picking up the phone six rings later.

She sounds tired—Steve’s sorry he woke her. “I wrote another letter,” he says.

That seems to perk her up instantly, as she hisses down the line, “Steven James Harrington.”

“Not my name, Robin Steven Bobbington,” he replies, talking right over her shrieked “well, that’s not mine!” to continue, “I’m not going to send it.”

“You better not,” she replies, and Steve can hear some rustling on her end, like she’s settling back down into her bed. He wishes, suddenly, that he was in there with her, clutching her hand as they fall asleep side by side. Instead, he lays down on his own bed and concentrates on the noises coming down the line.

“Is it stupid that I miss him?” he asks.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Robin!”

She laughs, a quiet sleepy chuckle that warms him straight through. “I’m just saying! He’s been treating you like shit, Stevie.”

Steve sighs, burrowing down under his comforter and taking the phone with him. “He was different in the letters,” he whispers, like someone in his empty house might hear him otherwise. “Sweeter, you know?”

Robin sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s enough sorries to go around for all of them, apparently. They’re quiet for a while, Robin’s breathing keeping him company in his big, lonely bed with his big, lonely thoughts.

“I love you, Robbie,” he whispers. “You know that, right?”

He’s been saying it a lot lately, throwing the words around like they’ll connect this time and get him something real. And they had, with Chrissy, with Robin, hell, even with Jeff. Just, not with Eddie. Maybe someday, he’ll learn to be okay with that.

“Love you, too, Dingus,” Robin replies, like it’s easy.

He falls asleep that night to the sound of Robin’s quiet snoring.

***

Eddie thinks about it—obsessively, compulsively. He dreams about it, jerks off about it, fucking cries about it. He reads the letters, again, and again, and again, wishing desperately that he still had that first one. At school, he checks his locker obsessively, compulsively, hoping there’s another note in his locker—there never is.

“Dude, what’s your problem?” Gareth asks, an elbow into Eddie’s side.

“Ow, ribs!” Eddie cries, curling away from him and into Doug at their usual lunch table.

“Sorry!” Gareth replies, leaning away from him and raising his hands up like that’ll somehow prove he’s harmless.

Jeff snorts around his sandwich, “gotta be careful, Gare-bear. He’s precious cargo now.”

“Oh fuck off,” Eddie replies, rolling his eyes as the rest of Hellfire laugh around him.

“No, but seriously, dude,” Gareth asks, this time without the thrown elbow. “What’s up with you?”

Eddie looks across the cafeteria at Steve and Chrissy’s usual spots, still empty the way they have been for weeks. He worries, sometimes, that they’re not eating, and it’s his fault.

Hopefully, they’re just packing lunches from home and eating somewhere else (he’s been too afraid to check).

“Can’t tell you buddy,” Eddie replies, still looking at the empty spot like that’ll somehow make the duo appear. “I promised.”

Gareth, clearly having followed his line of sight, leans closer and asks in an unsubtle whisper, “but it’s about you know what?”

Doug sits on, oblivious, but Jeff snorts again and asks, “okay, you didn’t tell me jack shit, but you told the freshman?”

“Sophomore, jackass!” Gareth cries, before seeming to realize the implications of Jeff’s sentence. “You told Jeff?”

“I knew before you did,” Jeff says smugly, and Eddie’s starting to get pissed off about that again.

“How!”

“Jeff, dearest?” Eddie grits out. “Do you want me to punch you in the face?”

That shuts the table up catastrophically. But in the end, Jeff sighs and says, “I’m coming over after school,” and the rest of lunch is spent fielding Gareth’s indignant questions.

True to his word, Jeff climbs into Eddie’s passenger seat at the end of the day. Eddie doesn’t take them to the trailer, he just drives around, taking back roads round and round, restlessness making his fingers twitch in the gear shift.

Jeff’s the one who breaks the silence, in the end. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, making Eddie flinch at the sudden noise. “Steve just seemed so scared, and Chrissy was crying so—”

“He was scared?” Eddie interrupts, stuck on the thought. He’d known that, before, but now that Eddie’s afraid, too, it hits like a punch to the chest.

“Of course he was,” Eddie replies to his own question. Suddenly unable to focus, Eddie pulls over to the side of the road. “I’m scared, too.”

Jeff sucks in a breath; Eddie doesn’t look away from his own knees.

“Yeah?”

Eddie bites his lip, knowing that Jeff will be able to read between the lines. “Yeah.” His eyes are watering, and Eddie swipes at them, embarrassed. “And I know we’re supposed to be talking about us, but I just—”

“No, hey,” Jeff replies. Eddie hears the sound of his seatbelt unbuckling, and the rustle of him shifting in his seat, and suddenly, Jeff’s hand is clasping Eddie’s shoulder, shaking him around just a little. “You’re my best friend—we’re fine, dude.”

Eddie swipes at his eyes again, “I think I want to ask him out, but what if I’m wrong?” Eddie asks, tracking Jeff’s expression out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t want to hurt him again.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, voice deadpan. “You find out he likes you and suddenly he’s not just a jock anymore?”

Eddie looks down at his own knees, bracing for a hit he knows will never come. But, Eddie’s always been good at hurting himself, so he thinks about that yellow nail polish again, the enraptured look in Steve’s eyes during every D&D session, the way he’d glued himself to Robin Buckley, band nerd supreme’s side in recent weeks. The way he’d look at Eddie like he wasn’t the king of the freaks, like he was worth something.

“He was never just a jock,” Eddie murmurs. “I just never let myself think about it.”

Jeff mmmhmms him and Eddie knows him well enough to hear the doubt beneath the agreement.

“I was afraid, okay?” Eddie laments, scrunching his eyes closed tight until that makes his bruised eye ache too much. “You wouldn’t get it.”

At that, Jeff scoffs, and before Eddie can start up another tirade, he replies, “right, the black guy dating a white girl in Po-dunk, Indiana has no idea how scary it can be to make a move on the person you like.”

Okay, fair.

“You know what could happen if the wrong person finds out?” Jeff continues. “I’ll be lucky if they let me get out of town alive.”

“Okay, okay! I get it, sorry!” Eddie cries, throwing his hands up in defeat. And Jeff, being the asshole he is, just laughs at his discomfort. “How’s that going anyway?”

“With Chrissy?” Jeff asks, continuing when Eddie nods. “She’s great, man. I really, really like her.”

He’s smiling all goofy and in love. Eddie waits for the jealousy to hit; it never comes. Even as he’d flirted with her, there’d always been a disconnect for him between the letters and the girl. He knows why, now.

“I’m happy for you.”

Jeff aims that same goofy smile at him and punches his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

Eddie wants to feel that way about someone. He wants to think of them and smile like he just can’t help himself. And with Steve Harrington of all people, maybe he can.

“If I ask Steve out, do you think he’ll still say yes?”

“Oh, for sure,” Jeff replies without hesitation before he turns to Eddie and eyes him up and down. “But are you sure you want to?”

Eddie bites back the defensive retort rising on his tongue, and grits out, “what do you mean?”

Jeff sighs and leans back in his chair. Eddie waits, three seconds from snapping as he stews in Jeff’s silence, hands clenched so hard against the steering wheel that it feels like one of his nails might pop clean off. 

“Jeff–”

“No one’s ever liked you before!” Jeff cries, and it hits Eddie like a punch to the sternum. “And maybe it’s not fair of me to ask but, are you sure you even really like him?”

“What?” Eddie asks, his mind a record skipping against a bent needle. “What do you–”

“Eddie, man,” Jeff sighs, swiveling his head to finally look Eddie directly in the eyes. “Do you like Steve Harrington, or do you just like that he likes you?”

He drops the wheel, hands almost numb as he shakes them out, no longer able to meet Jeff’s eye. 

How would anyone ever know that for sure? How can he know the origin of a feeling when it’s been there, simmering in the background of his brain, just waiting for him to wake up? How can he separate the feeling for a person and the person’s feeling for them?

That’s like asking him to unbraid his hair, let it fall back together, and still be able to tell which strands made up each component of the braid–it can’t be done.

But, “Gareth said I was obsessed with him,” Eddie replies, barely above a whisper. “Like, before I knew he wrote the letters?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie laughs, but it’s just like Steve said–it sounds different when he doesn’t think it’s funny. “And, he was right, you know? I was flirting with Chrissy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

Eddie runs a shaking hand through his hair and buries his face into his hands with a shudder. “He’s just–he’s Steve Harrington, right? Everyone knows everything about him, but then he just changes the script!” Eddie’s smiling now, manic, animated. “And I wanted to know everything.”

Eddie drops his hands to look over at Jeff, meeting his eyes once more. Jeff looks patient, ready, hopeful in a way he hadn’t before, so Eddie keeps talking.

“Like, Chrissy was flirting with you and he didn’t even seem to care, and the yellow nail polish, and he came to Hellfire, Jeff. Steve Harrington came and watched us play Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I know,” Jeff replies, grinning now, pearly whites all on full display. 

“And when he came to band practice, he was just like, watching me, and I sort of wanted to die, but in a good way, you know?”

Jeff decidedly does not look like he knows, but he’s still grinning across at Eddie like he’s proud of him. Eddie’s kind of proud, too, that he’s managing to say all of this aloud. It feels somehow new and a long time coming at the same time. 

“Okay, you can ask him out,” Jeff says, turning forward in his seat and buckling his seatbelt once more. 

Eddie laughs. “Oh, because I needed your blessing?”

“Yeah,” Jeff replies, grinning as he turns back to Eddie, looking him up and down like he’s a slab of meat Jeff’s checking for its quality. “Maybe wait until you’re healed up, though. You look like one of those cardboard box kittens that I keep seeing on the news.”

“Shut up!” Eddie squawks, but he’s smiling, helplessly, hopefully.

Eddie Munson with a chance at love, who would’ve thought?

PART 18

[2knightt]

Do you think u could write abt the gang being (separately) absolutely obsessed with the reader. Like they adore everything she does, they can’t get enough of her. To the point where the rest of the gang starts releasing them abt it, meanwhile reader is like completely oblivious lol

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ heaven and hell were words to me.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! the greasers are totally obsessed!

tags/warnings: no confessions—just the gang having a crush, gang being literally whipped, them being a little odd, kinda toxic!johnny LFMAO, nothing else to my knowledge

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m just working…working hard so i can please you.(shout out to ema/corvyes/loml for that ref.) but if i get a req asking me for like the gng confessing to you—i will do it. trust.

Dallas Winston

WHEN HE’S DRUNK, YOU’RE ALLLL HE TALKS ABOUT LMFAOOOO

“i’m tellin’ you—there ain’t a girl like her.”

dallas would repeat after what felt like this 5th drink of the night. buck is sick of him, two-bit regrets dragging him along, and dallas just wants to tell them how good you looked today.

when he sees you walking home, to school, or to work he WILL tag along. HE DOESN’T GAF IF YOU TELL HIM TO TAKE A HIKE!

actually, he kinda does. you’re like the only person he listens to.

LMFAOOO THE GANG THREATENS TO CALL YOU OVER WHENEVER DALLAS IS DOING SMTH STUPID

like whenever you threaten a kid ur gna tell santa.

“dallas, i’m gonna tell y/n what you did last week.”

“??if you do, i’ll beat your head in, soda.”

“YIKES..i’m gonna have to tell her that too…”

“…don’t, she’d be so mad at me😔😒.”

THE GANG TEASES DALLAS THE WORST(besides ponyboy) ABOUT YOU LFNAOAOAOAO

like they’re shoving him toward you, nudging him at even the slightest mention of you, giggling as they tell him they seen you today.

“look, it’s your girlfriend.”

“steve, shut up! she ain’t deaf!”

—

“GO SEE HER!”

“OW—i mean—hi, y/n.”

“did you…trip? or did you mean to bump into me?”

“yeah, sorry or whatever. some IDIOT back there pushed me.”

—

“guess who i saw..🥰🥰”

“who?”

“your wife…”

“can you NOT.”

despite all that, you somehow, still don’t know how he feels about you. how? we’ll never know. it’s beyond the human mind.

his friends try and hint at you that the big, bad greaser has a school girl crush on you. do you get what they’re trying to say? no. but that’s okay, you’re just a girl.

lowkey pisses dallas off but that’s okay cuz he prefers admiring from afar. DOES HOWEVER ASK YOU TO HANG OUT AND CONSIDERS THEM A DATE IN HIS HEAD TO KEEP HIM SANE LFMAO

“you wanna go see this drag race tomorrow?”

“sure! i don’t have work then. uhm, pick me up at my place!”

“alright, cool.”

‘yeah..,it’s date🥱😍’ — dallas’ brain.

Johnny Cade

‘johnny, if you even fucking stutter when you talk to her today—you’re gonna have to drink pickle juice.’

“oh, hi. i didn’t see you there, johnny. ‘m sorry.”

“o-oh—it’s alright.”

‘well, shit.”

he thinks he looks like such a fucking loser when he talks to you omfg😭😭

the gang tries to tell him he might have a shot but he thinks they’re just telling him that because he’s their friend. :(

HEAVILY admires from afar. like seriously he’s a fucking stalker

WAIT LMFOAOO HE’D BE THE TYPE OF GUY TO ACCIDENTALLY STALK YOU LIKE HE’D FOLLOW YOU PLACES FROM AFAR LMFAOAOAOOAOA

what a little freak

anyways

he accidentally lets things slip to let you know he’s better than any other guy trying to go after you. like if you had a shitty ex—he’s preaching that he’d ‘never treat you like that, he can’t imagine that a guy with a brain ever would.’

johnny does everything to keep your attention on HIM and nobody else when your friends try and talk to you when you two are out together. like you could be having a conversation with him and he’d be just pouting in the background with his arms crossed.

“y/n, look. they got that shirt you was talkin’ ‘bout. let’s go check it out. c’mon.” “oh—alright! bye, viv!😊” “yeah, bye viv.😒”

side eyes the gang whenever they bring you up in conversation

“johnny and y/n sittin’ in a tree—“

“😒🤨”

“alright.”

he tries to subtly hint that he really likes you and that you’re his type but it’s not subtle at ALL.

“y’know, if i were to have a girlfriend, i’d wish she was like you.”

—

“my type? uhm, it’d probably be someone-“ and he goes on to describe you.

Ponyboy Curtis

‘holy fuck that’s literally y/n walking towards me??!! does she know i’m here—does she even know me-wow she looks good in red. i mean—SHE’S WAVING OH MY GOD.’

HE IS SUCH A WRECK I CANTTT

ponyboy is the type to stare off into space in your direction and dream about how well he’d treat you if he was your man!!

yk how bitches be like ‘my man, my man!’ whenever they talk about their crush?? he’s all ‘my girl, my girl!’ WUAGRMRNEE

the gang was so confused on why he was so eager to go to school all of a sudden?? and why he cares about his appearance just slightly more than usual?? …is that soda’s shirt he’s wearing?-

two-bit was the first one to realize what was happening when he seen ponyboy and you talk in the halls. that wasn’t the giveaway, though.

it was the way he stared at you like you were the only girl alive and everyone else was just gone. two-bit was almost moved to tears to see ponyboy all grown😞😞!!!

“is tha’ your girlfriend? that why you couldn’t wait ‘til monday?”

“shut up!”

“ouuu, wait until the gang hears ‘bout this!”

“YOU AIN’T TELLIN’ ‘EM NOTHIN’!”

ever since — it has been hell on earth for ponyboy. dallas brings you up every time ponyboy gets smart, johnny giggles at every kissing scene at a movie nudges him, soda and darry had to give him ‘the talk,’ (soda just made it worse by making snide remarks.) and steve never stopped poking fun at him.

two-bit tried to get you to spill the beans on how you felt about him, but all you’d do was huff and ignore him. FINE THEN😒!—is what he always thought.

soda, johnny and two-bit all let ponyboy rant about you.

“LIKE, BRO. my girl, my girl! she’s so cute and smart. LIKE SHE’S TOTALLY MY DREAM.”

—

“that’s so cute ☹️” - soda

“SHE WANTS YOU SOO BAD” - two-bit

“just go tell her, man.” - johnny

does everything to impress you stoppp 😭😭!! pony is trying harder in school, using less hair grease, wearing darry’s cheap cologne when he’s not looking, etc.

HE’S SO SILLY I LOVE HIM!!!

Sodapop Curtis

delusional king!!! yes soda, let the voices in your head tell you that she wants you so bad!!🫶🫶

swear to goddd he thinks y’all are meant to be. you tipped him when he was working at the cash register and he was sooo in love

sorry in my head he’s a hopeless romantic

cause a) you were gorgeous, b) kind enough to tip him, and c) most likely rich💯💯

when he seen you at random places with your friends—soda would get so excited LMFAOOO

STOP HE’D HOUND PONY FOR YOUR NAME

“bro they probably go to your school—just lemme look at your yearbook!”

“no??? you weirdo???”

“please??!! i’ll do the dishes or something!”

“….get me a pack of cigarettes and i’ll tell you.”

“OKAY🥰🥰”

stole them but pony never said how to get them so who gaf!!!

SODA WOULD TOTALLY WRITE YOUR FIRST INITAL + HIS LMFAOOAOAOAOAA

or he’d see who’s last name went best with curtis or your last name!!!1!1!1

he’s crazy insane over you did i say that already

whenever you come by the dx—he’d give you shit for free while you insist to pay.

“jus’ take it.”

“i can’t—i’d feel terrible.”

“it’s alright, no one has to know. right?”

he’d flash his million dollar smile, pushing your coke and chips close to you, inciting you to just take the food.

WAJENEDKD he wants u so bad it’s. so terrible.

steve hates his rambles

“YOU SHOULDA SEEN THE WAY ME AND HER WAS TALKING—SHE’S SO INTO MEEEE”

“yeah, she wants you!!! shut up now!!”

Darry Curtis

nobody knows. it’s like a top secret only darry knows. the gang has their suspicions but they can never really know why darry is suddenly so adamant on going to go get him, soda, and pony’s hair done at the salon.

they alllll can see that he only really talks to you—but at the same time he does that weird ass dad stance where they stand with their arms crossed and legs far apart LMFAOOOOO

darry thinks you’re like…model fine btw.!!!!!

BROOO WHEN YOU LIKE UNCONSCIOUSLY MASSAGE HIS HEAD WHEN YOURE CUTTING IT—HE’S SOO READY TO JUST ASK YOU OUT

darry doesn’t know what it is but goddamn!! you have him in a spell!!

“c’mon—we gotta go to the salon again.”

“….we just went?”

“TWO WEEKS AGO. it’s about time we go AGAIN.”

does in fact work a little extra just so he can see you. he’s that much of a loverboy i fear.

HE DOES ACTUALLY NOT WAIT TO ASK YOU OUT

like, among all the gang, he’s the only one mature enough to actually flirt with you properly & to ask if you’re single.

darry’s fucking down like that.

AWWHHH HE TOTALLY BUYS YOU FLOWERS AS A ‘THANK YOU’ GIFT LOL

flexs his strength around you to prove he’s worthy !!! DARRY LOVEEESSS SHOWING OFF WHEN YOU’RE LOOKING

megara + hercules methink…..

you two probably started hanging out as ‘friends.’ …yeah right!!!!

he’s driving you around as you be his pretty little passenger princess, he’s offering to buy you things when you two are out, etc, etc.

darry might not know how to show that he likes you, but trust me, the second that you look a little too far into his actions—it gets obvious.

like maybe too obvious idk.

Steve Randle

HELLLOOOO??? HE IS TOTALLY SHOWING OFF HIS GYMNASTICS MOVES AROUND YOU

“bro, bro! (yes he’d call you bro. idgaf.) watch what i can do!!😊😊” “wowwww, steve that’s so cool.”

geeks out near you. when you aren’t around the average person would see him and go ‘jesus christ, he literally might beat my ass.’ but when you’re around, they might think, ‘why is that scary looking guy talking about cars and comic books rn??’

you bring out the nerd in him in the best way possible🫶😊 BECAUSE THAT MEANS HE LIKE LIKES YOUUUUUUU

and it’s so obvious to the gang bc wdym steve told you all about DC comics while all they got was a ‘yeah, it’s alright.’ …hm…..

soda NEVER shuts the fuck up and him and his little girlfriend. NEVERRREE

“why’re you so pouty today? y/n ain’t say hi?”

“bro, shut up!”

steals for you and gives them to you all proud like he paid for it LMFAO

tries to be sooo cool around you but the second you bring up the latest batman comic he’s all “OMGOMGOMGOMG IT WAS SOO GOOD!! DID YOU SEE THE-“ he’s a loser what can i say.

dallas totally flirts with you in front of steve just to piss him off LOLLL like when he sees dallas twirling your hair around his finger steve is just all “???🤨🤨😡😡”

and then becomes your knight in shining armour and swoops you away as he glares daggers at dally!!!!<3

Two-bit Mathews

he becomes the funniest man on the planet i’m not joking

he says jokes that anybody and everybody will laugh at. just because he wants to see you laugh at what he says for his delusions

two-bit thinks like ‘she laugh=she likes me’

he’s not the brightest but it’s okay

HE MAKES IT SOOO KNOWN THAT HE LIKES YOU LFMAOOOOOO

“you’re lookin’ pretty? who’s the fella?” / “gee, i didn’t believe when they said they seen an angel walkin’ around until now.” / “well, now you owe me dinner.”

shit like that

two thinks he’s soooo smooth…smh.

DALLAS AND PONYBOY SO BADLY WANTS HIM SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY ABOUT YOU LMFAOOO

they keep on telling him just to confess already but then two gets all giggly and shy and goes “omg guys noooo🤭🤭🤭🫣🫣”

just coincidentally runs into you everywhere you go!!! (literally has eyes everywhere. he’s weird. he’s odd.)

follows you around like a lost puppy and lowkey kinda gossips. idk.

[luveline]

hi jade!! could we get some kbd!steve where r has had a long week at work or something like that and steve makes her favorite for dinner and she just gets all clingy and a little teary and all that mushy ushy stuff

KBD —mom!reader, 2k

The drive home feels longer, roads you’ve taken each week day for years metamorphosed into winding lanes and long stretches of tarmac. You stop at the small store just outside of your neighbourhood and attempt to pick out a treat for each girl and your sweet husband. 

It costs more than the tags say it will. Your bag breaks on the way to the car. You have to go back into the store to buy Steve another glass coke, but he deserves it. If you think about crying on the street that leads into yours, it’s your secret. 

The door opens before you’ve parked the car. Avery waits on the stoop, shifting from foot to foot in excitement. The second the car is off, she’s barrelling down the step of the house without shoes. 

“Ave! Babe!” you say, laughing as she pins you in place. “No, go back inside! It’s so cold out here!” 

“I couldn’t wait to see you!” she whines. 

Steve is there and down the steps immediately. He grabs her up and tosses her over his shoulder, laughing but clearly disapproving, “I didn’t even hear the door, just you yelling,” he says. “Shit, come on, come inside, it’s freezing!”

“Steve, you’re not wearing socks either.” 

“I had to save my girl. Where’d she go, did you see?” 

Avery giggles roaringly against his back. “Dad, put me down!” 

Steve gets Avery unharmed back inside of the house. He lets you pass and locks the front door, it’s creaking, stuck handle slammed up and key turned. He puts the chain on, like you’re being followed, checking the peephole before turning to you with this look, arms out and hands up, a sign of relief coursing through him. “My girl,” he says, cupping your face in both hands. 

You give a surprised smile. 

“I thought I was your girl!” Avery says.

“You are my girl,” Steve says, tipping your head to one side. He’s smiling like it’s his birthday, or like you just told him you found a hundred dollars in one of your pockets. “But mom’s my girl, I have a couple, you know?” He talks to Avery, stares at you. “I’m glad you’re home. I have a surprise for you and I hate waiting.”

“You do?” 

He squeezes your cheek and parts from you. “Ave, go get some socks. I’m gonna turn the heating up. Wait, let me feel those feet before you go.” 

“You are not touching my feet, you tickle.” 

“Then go get some socks on them! Gosh, you’d think I just left the front door unlocked or something, the way she ran out.” 

He shares a big smile. 

In the kitchen, the shutters are open. The lingering piles of yet to melt snow in the back yard make the whole room white, illuminating the family table, the fridge covered in magnet-pinned drawings and appointment cards, the sink and all the drying dishes. Poor Steve, he must do the dishes three times a day before you get home. 

There are things covered on the stove waiting to be reheated, and in the oven, you can see a large ceramic baking tray. 

“What are you making?” you ask. 

“That’s your surprise, honey. That and one more thing.” 

You shake your head, nonplussed. “What?” 

Steve opens the cabinet under the sink to unveil a bouquet of flowers. Which means he must’ve gotten four girls dressed to take to the store on a day where he hadn’t needed to. He must love you a whole lot to bother.

“What’s in the oven?” you ask. 

Steve puts the bouquet in its vase on the table for you to inspect. “Your favourite, duh. All the trimmings. Enough for you to have three helpings, if you want.” 

“What’s the occasion?”

“Since when do we need an occasion?” he asks, taking your wrist across the table. 

You give the flowers a good long analysis. Your favourite flowers too, with baby’s breath, carnations and peonies to bulk it out, all light pinks or whites, the odd light blue one tucked throughout. 

“I think I was having a bad day,” you say. 

“What?” he asks worriedly. “What’s wrong?” 

He should know not to ask you like that when you’re upset to begin with. He’s lucky you don’t burst into breathless sobs there and then, but your eyes go hot, your waterline fills, and he’s all to easy to collapse against for a hug. The bag at your elbow clinks against him. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

“Sure, honey, but what happened?” 

You sound squeezes as an orange for juice as you explain it, wobbly in his arms, “It’s just been such a long week, m’sorry, and I had a bad day, and I got you a glass coke from Ernie’s but the bag broke, so I had to go back in and tell them I smashed glass out there–”

“Maybe Ernie should get better bags,” he says. 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t cry over coke.” 

“No, you should never cry.” He encourages you back to kiss your nose, still smiling as he says, “Ever. They should make crying illegal, I don’t wanna see you doing it ever.” He taps you under the chin. “You’re home, cool? Nobody can bother you for the next two days, it’s just me, and your daughter, and your other daughter, and your other,” —he starts laughing as you do, infected— “daughter, and that baby. Also a daughter.” 

“Oh, yes. Who can forget my troop of girls,” you say, sniffling as he swipes under your eye with his thumb. 

“Okay?” he asks. 

You could tell him everything now, or you can save it up for tonight, tell his shoulder after dinner and a shower and a few hours of TV and chips. It’ll all feel less shitty then. And he’s drawn your attention where it should’ve been —where are your girls? 

“I’m okay. Thank you, handsome.” 

“Handsome.” He feels down your arm, pretty and warm among a cool-white kitchen. “Flirt. How about you go give your kisses and I’ll set the table?” 

“You sure?” 

He’s all smiles, it’s crazy. “The quicker I feed you the better, I’d wager. Kiss for luck?”

What luck? you think, but pout softly for a kiss that rocks your world regardless 

I’m a princess, you think, pushing the door that leads to the living room. Inside, Beth, the second eldest, is sitting with Wren, the baby. Wren is sitting on a playmat in a duckie covered onesie, smiling and giggling as Beth puts on a show. Beth’s holding an octopus toy and a Barbie, making them talk to one another in different voices. 

You don’t want to interrupt them, but Wren sees you over Beth’s head and starts doing the wiggly, nearly frantic things babies do when they’ve missed you. If you don’t grab her quickly she’ll burst into tears. 

“Beth!” you say, kneeling down beside her as you grab her sister. “Hi, bubby. What are you playing?” 

Beth reminds you that you’re beautiful, your smile on her lips as she says, “Mom! When did you come home?” 

“Just a few seconds ago.” You situate Wren on your chest for kissing, popping a few spares on Beth’s temple. “Okay? Good day?” 

“Great day!” 

“Good, I’m so glad.” 

Beth crawls to you to give you a hug from the side. Somewhere in the background, Avery calls, “Daddy! Dove is making a mess in my room AGAIN!” and Steve’s calling back, “Okay! I’ll be right there, Avery! Just gimme a minute!”

“DAD!” 

Wren gurgles at you. “Da?” she says. 

“Heard that, did you?” you ask her. 

Steve takes the long way, pushing into the living room and throwing a grin at the three of you on the floor. “Honey, I’ll be right back. The table’s set, okay? You can go sit down and I’ll start plating up.” He doubles back before he can leave, again staring at you with a smile. “Jesus, you’re perfect. I could just look at you forever.”

“Isn’t he charming?” you ask Beth. 

She gives an agreeable nod.  

The moment he’s gone you realise you actually don’t want him far away from you. It’s a strong feeling to understand it while bathed in love from two beautiful kids who missed you. Wren tries to kiss you, surely wanting one of her own, while Beth gets up and tries to persuade you too. 

“Come on, mommy. We can sit at the table.” 

So you go, mostly because she sounds adorable. You carry Wren to the table and find Steve’s already made her her soft food. You try to make baby food a few days worth at a time, but it’s nice to let her have little tastes of the same meal as everyone else. He’s blended some of the veggies into a bowl, sat cooled and waiting for her with a bib on the high chair. 

“Your daddy’s in great form today,” you mumble into her hair, sitting her down, and attempting to get the bib on her before she can grab her spoon. She’s enthusiastic, but not actually coordinated enough to use one yet. You sit down by the high chair to feed her. 

“Is it okay if I sit here?” Beth asks, taking your usual seat. 

“Yeah, of course. Want me to serve you now, or could you wait, bubby? Just until dad comes down.” 

Beth shakes her head. You forget sometimes that she’s not a baby, not a toddler, but a child big enough to grab her own knife and fork. “I’ll wait, just have some bread.” 

“Okay, bubby. Thank you. You gonna butter it yourself?” 

“Yeess,” she drags out. 

Steve brings Avery back, along with your last, grumpiest daughter, Dove. She isn’t necessarily miserable, just contrary. When she was Wren’s age she’d already mastered the word no, when she sees you, she glares at you, crying out in disbelief, “You’re in my seat!” 

“Come and sit on my lap, big girl, I gotta feed your sister.” 

“I don’t want to sit on your lap.” 

“That’s hurtful.” You pout at her with loving eyes. “Dove, didn’t you miss mommy? I missed you soooooo much.” 

Success. She climbs into your lap and lets you rub her arm while you can. Steve takes the seat on Beth’s other side, further away then you would’ve liked. He serves everybody their dinner, does it all beaming and fawning over his dinner guests. 

Your bad week fades away. By the time Steve’s stolen Wren-duty and you’ve finished your dinner, you’re feeling delightfully full and doubly loved. Like they know you need it, each of your daughters capable of doing so gives you a hug (or in Dove’s case, a kiss on the arm). 

Leaving you, and Steve, and baby Wren. 

“What do you think, milk?” he asks her. 

She seems to think it over. “Ba?” she asks. 

“Buppy? You want your buppy?” 

He pulls her out of her high chair, makes her a bottle of milk with her held to his chest, and then sits down in the chair next to you to cradle her and feed her a few ounces. 

“So,” he says, as though he isn’t exhibiting frankly audacious levels of dad-stamina and esteem, “about that long week, are you feeling okay?” 

You hold his wrist where he holds the baby. Wren’s getting so big, she takes up the length of his arm, a healthy chub around her neck and on her tummy. 

“Y/N?”

“I’m okay, yeah.” 

“Just got on top of you?” 

“Yeah, I guess so. Shit, I didn’t get you your coke or anything for dinner. I got the girls chips.” 

“It’s okay, we have time to spoil them. They ate tons.” 

“What was breakfast like after I left?” 

“Avery was so happy she didn’t have school I don’t think she noticed there were no fruit slices.” 

You fall into conversation. He leans against your shoulder as you rub the length of his arm, encouraging your clinging to the fullest extent. 

[unfinishedslurs]

eddie's flat ass (steddie)

Dustin whips around as soon as they’re alone. “Steve!”

“I’m Eddie.”

“No, I mean you and Steve. You like him.”

“Of course I like him, Henderson,” Eddie says flatly, pressing a little harder on the gas in hopes of getting to Dustin’s house before he admits something he regrets. “We’re friends. Best buds. A couple of dudes being bros.”

“You’re full of shit,” Dustin says. “I’m not stupid. I saw that. I wish I hadn’t, but I saw it. You’re, like, stupidly into him. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. His street can’t come soon enough. 

Dustin pushes through. “When are you gonna ask him out?”

“Uh, never?”

“What?!”

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Nothings going to happen, Henderson. Yeah, I’ve got a stupid fucking crush on your babysitter, it doesn’t mean that Steve’s interested in me. He likes girls, Dustin, did you miss that part in the dossier? He thinks we’re a couple of straight guys horsing around, if he found out I was flirting with him I could be thrown into Hunt the Freak 2: the thrilling sequel.”

Dustin’s mouth snaps shut, and he laughs nervously. “Right,” he agrees. “He likes girls. But, uh, hypothetically, if he was into guys…”

They roll to a stop sign, and Eddie turns away from the road to tell the little shit off. But Dustin’s fidgeting, staring steadfast at the road and refusing to meet his eye. 

“You know something,” he realizes. 

“Uh…”

Eddie’s about to shake it out of him. “You’re hiding something, you little shit. What is it? Tell me.”

“I’m not,” he squeaks. 

“Bull-shit you aren’t. What is it? Is it about Steve?” Eddie pales. “Shit, does he know about me?”

“Well…”

“What the hell?!”

“I didn’t tell him!” Dustin yelps. “If you didn’t want him to know, maybe you shouldn’t have been so obvious!”

“Check your tone,” he snaps, hand shaking as he pulls on his hair. “Shit, shit, shit, okay, it’s fine, I just need to flee the country—“

“Why?”

Eddie is this close to throttling the kid. “What do you mean why?”

“Why is this such a big deal?”

“It could get me killed!” He shouts, banging a hand against the steering wheel. “He could—he could fucking tell somebody, and—“

“He wouldn’t do that!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know that? You think someone’s a good guy until you’re interested in them, and then it’s all ‘You’re fucking disgusting,’ or ‘Freak,’ or ‘Don’t touch me, you fa—‘“

“Stop!” Dustin shouts, white knuckling the armrest. “Eddie, stop. He’s not going to tell anyone. It’s gonna be okay. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s fine,” Dustin stresses. “Steve doesn’t care if you’re gay. He definitely doesn’t mind you flirting with him.”

“You don’t know that,” Eddie says. 

“Yeah I do.”

“How?”

There’s that deer in headlights look again. Then Dustin takes a deep breath, and his expression turns guilty. 

“I know you’re not supposed to tell people this,” he says, “but you’re freaking out really bad and I’m, like, 99% sure Steve thinks you already know.”

“Steve thinks I know what?”

Dustin tells him. 

Two hours later, he’s still laying on the floor in the trailer, looking up at the ceiling. 

Bisexual. Steve Harrington, the man Eddie’s always hailed as the patron saint of heterosexuality, likes men. 

Might like Eddie. 

“Are you flirting with me?” Eddie blurts out, and immediately tries to bolt. 

He runs face first into a wall and ends up on the ground, wishing the demobats had just killed him. 

Steve appears in his line of vision, standing over his sprawled body. Eddie is treated to a wonderful view, eyes moving from his long, athletic legs to his crotch to his chest and broad shoulders, and finally reaches his face. His very amused face. 

Eddie’s entire body lights on fire. 

“What the hell was that?” Steve asks, laughing. 

“Uh…”

“Wile E Coyote over here. Seriously, man, that was some Loony Toons shit. I’m embarrassed for you.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” he groans. “Just let me die.”

“No way in hell. Sorry, Munson, I put too much work into saving your flat ass to throw it away like that.” Steve grins, holding a hand out for Eddie to take. He ignores it, rolling over so Steve can’t see how red his face is. 

“My ass isn’t flat,” he mumbles into the carpet. 

“Oh, it is,” Steve says cheerfully, nudging said ass with his foot, because he’s a bastard. Eddie doesn’t know why he likes him so much. Everything he does is catastrophically bad for his continued survival. “It’s cute though. I like it.”

“Henderson said, uh, that you were…umm…maybeflirtingwithme?” Eddie finishes in a rush. 

“What?”

Steve’s face is open, automatically tilting his right ear towards Eddie. Eddie doesn’t know if he’s aware that’s something he does. Robin says it’s because of all the concussions, his left ear just isn’t what it used to be. 

Eddie sags, unable to lie to his wide-eyed confusion. “Dustin said you're flirting with me.”

Steve stares at him. 

Eddie fidgets under his incredulous gaze, growing more anxious by the minute. Oh God, Dustin was wrong. Dustin was wrong about everything. Steve probably doesn’t even actually like boys, Jesus. The whole thing is obviously a bust. Eddie needs to cut and run, maybe make some bullshit excuse about his uncle needing him home even though Steve knows Wayne’s working right now—

“You needed Henderson to tell you that?”

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 3rd Prompt: Mutual Pining

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

@steddie-week

“Robin,” Steve hisses, swatting at her arm with wide eyes.

She flails. “What?” She hisses back, slapping at his hand.

“Him,” he says, jerking his head towards the front door of Family Video. Robin frowns when she sees Eddie.

“What- oh, for fuck’s sake, Steve, will you quit with the high school shit? I thought you were past that.”

He looks hurt. “What high school- oh!” His expression clears and he shakes his head. “No, not- not that, you know I’m past that. Robbie.” He puts his hands on her shoulders. She tries not to squirm. “Robbie, his hair is up.”

Robin looks at him again: hair up in a bun, cut-off jean shorts, those weird tank tops with the stretched armpits that Robin didn’t understand unless she could see hints of a bra underneath. She turns back to Steve, still frowning, then suddenly her expression clears. Oh. “You like him!” She crows.

“Robbie,” he pleads. “I- I don’t- I don’t know how to do this anymore, you know how badly Nancy broke me-”

“I know,” Robin quickly says. “I know, your heart’s on your sleeve only until you brush up against someone else and they steal it, I know, Steve, but if there’s one person who falls harder, faster?” She points out the window. “It’s that fucker.”

“Okay,” Steve says, “but that doesn’t mean I can talk to him.”

“You might not have a choice,” she says, watching as he grabs the door handle. She nods at him, and Steve whips around as the bell above the door rings.

He whips around just as quickly, and Robin’s suddenly faced with two choices. She could either take over, let him hide in the back, or- “I’m taking my break,” she says brightly. “I’ll grab us some drinks from the corner store.”

“Robin,” he hisses, futilely grabbing at her as she dodges out of his grasp.

“Hey, Eddie,” she greets as she approaches the front door. “You’re just in time, I’m taking my break to grab Steve and I some drinks from the corner store.”

Eddie grins at her, then glances at Steve and his smile falls. “Yeah,” he says, “is he feeling okay? He looks red.”

Robin looks at him and turns to Eddie with a concerned look. “He does. Would you be able to stay here, just in case, while I run and grab those drinks?” He gapes, so she brightly says, “thanks!” As she runs out.

She’s a genius.

“See ya, Birdie,” Eddie says on his way out. 

Steve doesn’t speak to her for half an hour, which is a record for them. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I thought I’d give you a chance to talk.”

He buries his head in her shoulder. “I think he hates me.”

Eddie calls Gareth once he gets home. “Gareth.”

“Edward.”

“Not my name and you know it.” He sighs. “I think he hates me.”

Gareth sighs. “Are you talking about Steve again? Dude, he doesn’t hate you. I think that’s actually physically impossible.”

“Trust me,” Eddie says darkly, “it’s not.”

“Okay, well I swear on my mother’s life he doesn’t hate you, does that make you feel better?”

“Have you actually spoken to him in the last month?”

“Well, no.”

“Ha!”

“But I’ve spoken to Robin.”

Eddie groans. “Okay, but recently?”

“Uh, does Sunday count as recently?”

“Okay, in the last twenty minutes.”

“No, but I can. I’ve got a video to return anyways.”

“Huh,” Eddie says, “I always thought you got them from Robin.”

“Yeah, but I’ve gotta give them back, too. I don’t always catch her before work.”

Eddie’s head spins. “Okay, could you talk to her, actually? Just… confirm that he either does or doesn’t hate me, man, I feel like I’m going crazy-”

“If it helps,” Gareth says, “last time we spoke, she said he was being a dingus about you.”

“That’s no help,” Eddie retorts, “I don’t think she even knows what that means, you realize that’s one of her nicknames for him?”

Gareth sighs. “Okay. I’ll go talk to Robin and try to get an answer for you.”

“I owe you my life.”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll marry you.”

Gareth hangs up on him.

“Hey,” Robin says when she sees Gareth coming. “Wanna take the rest of the day off? My treat for royally screwing up?”

Steve blinks at her, then smiles. “Only if you come over later.”

“With all the ice cream I can carry,” she promises, laughing. “Go, get out of here, I’ll clock you out with me.”

“Thanks, Robbie,” he murmurs into her hair, leaning in for a hug. “You’re sure it’s okay?”

“This is my fault,” she reminds him. “Now go, already, you’d better enjoy this one-time offer.” She grins at him, and he grins back as he walks out, greeting Gareth on his way to his car.

“Emerson,” Robin says.

“Buckley,” Gareth replies.

“Did I royally fuck up?”

“Ah,” Gareth laughs, “I should’ve known this was your fault.”

“I didn’t think anything would happen! I thought, y’know, they’d talk!” She balls up her hands in her hair.

“Well, Eddie thinks Steve hates him.”

“Oh,” Robin says, “that’s okay, then, because Steve thinks Eddie hates him.”

“They’re idiots.”

“They’re our best friends.”

“So what does that make us?”

They both laugh, and Robin takes the tape to scan it back in. “How’s Aunt Betty?”

“Same as always,” Gareth shrugs. “How about Aunt Melissa?”

Robin sighs. “As hippie as ever, I think. She’s talking to me about marriage.” They both shudder. Robin looks at the screen. “You’re late,” she tells him.

He rolls his eyes. “By, like, a day, Binnie, can’t you just…” he wiggles his fingers at the computer, “write it off?”

She glares at him. “The things I do for family.”

Gareth snorts. “Speaking of doing things… what are we gonna do about them?”

Robin sighs. “Your idea of locking them into a closet is sounding more appealing by the minute.”

Gareth snaps. “I’ve got it! Blind date.”

“With each other?” Robin makes a considering noise. “It could work. It would have to be in Indy.”

“Talk to Eddie about places to go,” Gareth entreats. “Where you can be yourself.”

Robin snorts. “You can say gay bar, Nicholas, it’s not a bad word.”

Gareth screws his face up. “You know I hate my middle name.”

“I know, and I don’t know why, and anyways you started it with fucking Binnie.”

He flips her off, then stares expectantly. “So you’ll talk to Eddie?”

“Mhm. I’ll tell you what he says. Then you’ll tell Eddie and I’ll tell Steve?”

“Deal.” He holds his hand out to shake. “Oh, and make sure Steve wears the yellow sweater.”

Robin cackles. “You’re an evil genius. Will do, but only if Eddie wears his battle vest.”

They shake on it.

She speaks to Eddie later, about places to go, things to do, and comes to a decision. She speaks to Gareth that same day, who talks to Eddie the next day, the same day she talks to Steve. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Am I gonna hate it?”

“No!” She pauses. “I don’t think so? I’m setting you up on a blind date.”

“No.”

“Then you’re gonna stand them up, and do you really want that?”

Steve huffs out a breath, pinches his nose. “Fine. What is it this time?”

Robin claps and jumps. “Yes! Okay, it’s called Jake���s BBQ. Super accepting place. He’ll be in a denim vest.”

Steve cocks his brow at her. “He?”

“I thought it might help,” she said. “Oh, and I told him you’d be in a yellow sweater.”

Steve throws his hands in the air. “I guess all my choices have been made for me.”

“Please, there’s plenty of time to dazzle him with all your polos after the first date.”

Steve snorts. “When is it?”

“Friday, seven o’clock. I’m taking your shift.”

Steve raises both his brows. “You really want me to go.” She shrugs. “Alright, Robbie. No promises it goes well.”

“It’ll go great,” she assures him.

Three days later finds Steve on I-40E, getting closer and closer to Indy.

He finds the restaurant without too much trouble, grimacing when he realizes he’s going to have to be very careful not to spill on his sweater. He walks in, head on a swivel, doing a double-take when he sees Eddie sitting alone at a table. “Eddie?”

He looks over. “Steve?” His face hardens. “Look, if this is your idea of a joke, you can just-”

Steve shakes his head. “Joke? Robin sent me on a blind date.”

Eddie shuts his eyes on a sigh. “Did she happen to tell you anything about your date?”

“Uh, he’d be wearing a denim vest.” Steve’s eyes flicker down to Eddie’s chest, where his battle vest is on display. He grimaces. “Want to help me murder Robin?”

“Only if you help me murder Gareth after,” Eddie snickers, leading Steve back to his table. “C’mon, you drove all this way, you might as well get something to eat.”

Steve sighs, picking at his napkin. “What were you told?”

“Ah.” Eddie blushes. “That he’d be wearing a yellow sweater.”

Steve frowns. “I don’t understand that, actually, why this old thing?”

Eddie smiles. “Why the vest?”

Steve blushes. “With a shirt? I don’t know.”

Eddie’s eyes spark. “And without a shirt?”

Steve stares for a minute, then forces his eyes away with a quick shake of his head. “Why are we here, man?”

Eddie sighs. “I think Gareth just wants to humiliate me, honestly.” He stirs his straw in his drink, listens to the ice cubes clink. Takes a breath that shakes a little in the middle. “I, uh. Kinda have a really unfortunate crush on you.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “I thought you hated me!”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “No, I- I could never-”

“Well don’t say that, you did hate me in high school.” He shakes his head. “Why? Why me?”

Eddie laughs, loud and fake. “Listen, Harrington, I’ve had enough humiliation for today, thank you very much.”

“No, that’s not- Eddie, I like you too!”

Eddie blinks at him. “You- what?”

Steve nods. “That’s why Robin set me up with you.” He blushes. “And why I’ve been acting so weird,” he admits. “The last day you came in to Family Video, with the tank top? And your hair up?” He shakes his head, palms flat on the table, leaning over the edge of it. “I thought I was gonna die, dude.”

Eddie grins, pulling his hair back. “So, let’s say if I were to do this…” he pulls a hair tie off his collection of black bracelets, pulls his hair into a messy approximation of a bun.

Steve’s face is on fire. “Yuh- yep,” he says. “Y-yeah, that, that’s, uh.” He covers his face with his hands. “I need you to take your hair down before I do something that lands us both in jail for indecent exposure.”

Eddie chokes. “Rain check?” He jokes, taking his hair down. “And, uh. I brought the van. If you need to get it out of your system.”

Steve stares at him. “Get the check. We’ll get fast food on our way back.”

Eddie cackles, waves his hand for the waitress, and soon they’re in the van, Eddie’s hair back up.

Some time later, Steve calls Robin. “Hello?”

“Buckley, I’m going to murder you.” A pause, “Eddie’s helping. You want twin plots with Gareth?”

Robin shrieks. “I told you!”

“Yeah, yeah. Still gonna murder you.”

“As long as you and Eddie are done pining.”

“We done something!” Eddie crows, cackling, jumping back when Steve swats at him. 

“Ew,” Robin says, “please kill me so I don’t have to witness that, actually.”

“Robbie,” Steve says, then sighs, suddenly serious. “Thank you.” He smiles at Eddie, who smiles back and moves in to wrap an arm around Steve’s waist.

“Are you happy?”

He looks at Eddie, smiling at him, tapping his finger on Steve’s hip to the sound of the music coming from the speakers. “Yeah,” he says. “I am. Really happy.”

[cevansbrat0007]

The Do-Over

Summary: Everyone deserves a second chance, including jerks like Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson. Takes place directly after the events in Hello, Duchess.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bucky Barnes, A Deep Love of Clark Bars, Light Groveling, Bickering, Discussions of Grief, Threats of Violence, Gentle Manhandling, Brief References to Negative Body Image, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

An annoyed Ari takes a pull from his cigarette as he listens to his friend and fellow combat vet give him shit all the way from his office back in New Mexico. As soon as this was over, he was going to ditch this empty parking lot to find himself an ice cold beer and a goddamned steak. 

He was officially ready to put this day behind him. But first he needed a decent dinner.

“So let me see if I’ve got this right.” His friend begins, now that he’d finally stopped cursing up a blue streak. “Do you really mean to tell me that you took our best lead, which just so happened to be the perp’s girlfriend, and fucked it all to hell?”  

Okay, but just because that’s what happened doesn't necessarily mean that it was actually his fault. He’d just been a little off his game.

“Hey Buck, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re beginning to sound as dramatic as Rogers.”

“Steve would never fuck-up something this big for us.” He could practically hear the man flipping him off.

“I’m telling you this girl would’ve cut off Golden Boy’s balls and fed them to him for breakfast, okay?” He takes another puff, flicking some of the excess ash out his driver-side window. “Trust me.”

“Hold on.” An exasperated Bucky sighs into the receiver before placing the phone on his desk to speak to whoever had just walked into his office. He hoped whoever it was had better news than he did, otherwise he feared his old war buddy might have an aneurysm.

Sometimes he got the impression that Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes was wound a little too tight.    

The silence drags on as Ari contemplates getting out of his car to stretch his legs. It’s another several minutes before Bucky is back on the line, and this time he sounds positively exhausted.

“We can’t afford to lose this one, man. Westbrook might be a piece of shit, but he’s an expensive piece of shit. So while I don’t care how you feel about the girl, you need to make things right. She could have some valuable intel.”

“Yeah, I know.” His mood darkens as he flicks the cigarette onto the pavement. As he watches it hit the ground, he finds himself wondering if it was finally time to quit the cancer sticks altogether. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it before.

“Besides, what do you care if she was Westbrook’s fuck buddy?” Ari’s treated to the sound of his friend unwrapping something that sounded suspiciously like a candy bar. There was only one person who was known to keep that stuff at the office.

Which meant that shit had better not come from his personal stash, otherwise Bucky Barnes was a fucking dead man.

“I don’t.” Ari growls, sucking on his teeth. “And that had better not be a Clark Bar you’re eatin'.”

“Hate to break it to ya, pal. But based on what you told me earlier, it kinda sounds like you might.” There’s an unmistakable sound of a grin in his voice, which irks the bounty hunter to no end. 

“And I think it’s finally time you got your hearing checked, old man.” He growls back, although his words lack any real fire. 

“As for your precious Clark Bars,” he continues. “See, normally I’d pass on ‘em. But Pixie’s been on a health kick lately and she threw out all the junk food. So, I’m desperate.” Bucky gives an exaggerated groan. “Plus, she has no idea about your stash.” 

“Jesus.” Ari grumbles, firing up his engine with the intent to head back to the house he was currently renting. “I really wish you two would just suck face already and get it over with.”

“Mind your fucking business, Levinson.”

“Then keep your filthy hands off my fuckin’ Clark Bars, Barnes.” There’s a heavy sigh on the other line, prompting Ari to roll his eyes. All he wanted was for this conversation to fucking end.

“Look.” Bucky grunts. “You bring down this Westbrook fucker and I’ll buy you a goddamned case of those stupid bars. Alright?”

“You got yourself a deal.” Turning on his truck, Ari slowly heads for the exit as his stomach begins to rumble. Maybe he’d track down some shrimp to go with that steak.

“And fix whatever it is you fucked up with that bookstore broad while you’re at it.” 

“I’ll do my best.” He grimaces as his mind treats him to images of you threatening him with your taser. “But if that little spitfire puts me in the hospital you’re footin’ the bill.” And with that, Ari hangs up the phone.

As of now, he was officially done for the night.

A Few Days Later…

You’re sitting on the floor of your stockroom when you hear the tinkling of bells signaling the arrival of a customer. Groaning as you rise to your feet, you wipe your palms on the fabric of your pants and head to the front of the store. 

Business had been unusually slow today, so hopefully this patron - whoever they were - would be in the mood to buy something. As you were driving in this morning, you’d briefly considered holding another sale. Maybe it was time for another book fair. That seemed to be pretty popular the last time you’d done it. 

You’re in the middle of making a mental note to reach out to the local librarian when your eyes land on the absolute last person you wanted to see standing in your lobby: Ari Levinson. 

Not this guy again. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He says, offering up an unapologetic shrug as he takes in the sight of you in your form-fitting yoga pants. 

Apparently you’d spoken out loud. Perhaps if you kept doing it, the man would eventually get offended enough to leave. Wishful thinking at its finest.

When the intruder realizes you don’t plan on speaking again, he decides to take advantage of the silence by doing something completely unexpected. 

“I just dropped by to, uh…” He takes a deep breath, rocking back on his heels. “Apologize for how our last meeting went. While it wasn’t my intention to insult you, I know that I did.” One big hand comes up to massage the back of his neck. “Just wanted to offer that, for whatever it’s worth.”

“Oh. Wow.” You reply dumbly, crossing your arms over your chest. For whatever reason, you got the distinct impression that he didn’t make apologies often. 

“You’re right, sweetheart. I don’t.” His lips turn up in an awkward grin as he takes a step toward you. “But a real man knows how to own up to his shit, which is exactly what I’m doin right now.”

“Okay.” 

Mouth suddenly dry, you go to take a step back, only to find that your legs no longer work. Next thing you know, Ari is in your space, his boot clad feet are now mere centimeters from your well-loved sneakers as he towers over you. 

He holds out his hand as a gesture of goodwill, silently imploring you to take it. Your eyes lock with his as yours moves on its own accord – almost as if you’d been entranced. 

Your hand feels so small and delicate in his grasp. And for a second, you wonder what it might be like to lace your fingers together. How it would feel to hold onto him so intimately for just a few seconds longer. You sneak a glance up at Ari, only to watch as his pupils dilate, his nostrils flaring just slightly. It’s enough to let you know that you’re not the only one affected.

“You think we might be able to try this again?” His deep baritone washes over you like a balm. “You have my word I’ll do a much better job of, uh, keeping myself in check.” 

Yanking your hand away, all you can do is nod. Part of you almost wished the man would go back to acting like an asshole. At least then you would know how to handle him. This so-called charming and apologetic Ari was a different beast entirely.

“I–” You swallow thickly. “Yes, that’s fine.”

“Thank you for your kindness.” His easy smile has the nerve to do funny things to the butterflies in your belly. “And while I would hate to do anything that might spoil this good will, I would like to ask you a couple of questions right now.”  

Instantly suspicious, you open your mouth to deliver a curt “no”. However, having already anticipated this, Ari is quick to amend his request by promising not to be too invasive. He also insists that he’ll follow your lead. 

“If at any moment you want to stop, we’ll stop. You have my word on that too, darlin’.” He surveys the room, absentmindedly scratching at his jaw. “You good with me ensuring we have a little privacy?” Again you nod, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. 

Because at this point, it just didn’t make sense to kick the man out. Especially not when he seemed to be taking great pains to be respectful. You could only hope that he’d appreciate your cooperation enough to go bother someone else when you were through. 

Maybe it might be worth leading him back towards someone who’d actually appreciate his attention. Someone like your would-be frenemy, Charline Marshall. 

Seemingly encouraged by your response, the invasive bounty hunter hustles towards the door so that he could flip your sign from open to closed. And, unbeknownst to him, it also gives you a chance to begrudgingly appreciate just how good his ass looks in his Levi’s. 

Alright. So maybe you’d hold off on feeding Ari Levinson to Charline and her disciples – at least for right now.

“You know.” You cough, needing to give yourself a moment to recalibrate before you said or did something dumb. “I actually just remembered that I needed to fix a couple of things around the shop during my lunch break.”

An unruffled Ari simply smiles and winks back at you. “Thought you said you believed in your ability to multitask?”

You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at the smug bastard. Because he was right. You absolutely had said that. And then he’d had the gall to fucking listen. 

“Fine.” Shooting him a glare, you head over to the counter and toe-off your shoes. 

“Appreciate it, darlin’.” 

Just like last time, out comes his pen and tiny notebook. He flips it open to a new page before giving you his full attention. Meanwhile, you’re now hellbent on acting like he doesn’t exist. 

“How long have you owned your shop, Baubles & Quills?” 

If you were to look in his eyes at that moment, you would’ve seen them shining with genuine inquisitiveness. Almost as if he actually wanted to get to know you. 

“A few years.” You reply, bracing your hands on the flat surface of the desk. “I spent a large part of my childhood here, buried amongst books. My uncle left it to me when he passed. But I’m sure you already knew that.” 

Taking a deep breath, you send up a silent prayer to the Lord asking him not to let you fall before hefting yourself onto the counter with all the grace you can muster.  

“Maybe.” Ari concedes while jotting something down on his notepad. “But it’s different coming from – just what the hell are you doin’ woman?!”

“Checking out this light fixture.” You huff as you work to steady yourself.

“Any reason you couldn’t do that from the ground?” The bounty hunter surprises you by sounding more than a little stressed.

Confused by his response, you manage to spare a quick glance in his direction. Although your unlikely companion looks less than happy, you fail to fully grasp the nature of the problem. 

“Because I couldn’t quite tell if this whole panel was out, or just the one little section.” 

“Alright, well…” He drags an agitated hand through his already messy brown locks. “Now that you’ve seen it, how about you come on down from there?”

“Oh my goodness, Levinson.” An exasperated chuckle bubbles its way from your throat. “It’s just the counter. Save the freakout for when you find me on the flippin’ roof or something.” 

“You’re standin’ on the damned thing wearin’ nothing but socks. It’s like you’re askin’ to fall.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

“How the hell is my expressin’ concern about your safety bein’ dramatic?” 

“Next question, buddy.” You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the affronted look on the bounty hunter’s gorgeous face.

Ari forces himself to take a breath before attempting to return back to the task at hand. “I have it here that your Uncle is the late Lenny Barstowe. He was, by all accounts, an upstanding pillar of this community.”

“He was.” You agree, bending down to grab the duster resting near your feet. 

“You say he was your uncle, and yet you two don’t share the same last name.” He frowns when he notices your slight wobble. 

And for the tenth time in almost as many minutes he finds himself wondering why the fuck you didn’t hire someone to take care of shit like this for you? Hell, give him a ladder and a free afternoon and he’d handle things himself.      

“Wow. Nothing gets past you.” You sniff, trying to fight back a sneeze as dust goes flying. “They teach you those observation skills in private detective school?”

“Sure did.” Ari snorts without missing a beat, tucking the pen behind his ear. “First thing on the syllabus, in fact.”    

“Thought so.” 

“So glad we cleared that up.”

You can’t stop the small thrill that courses through you when you notice the newfound tick in his jaw. If you weren’t careful, you could find yourself growing addicted to that little zing in your blood. To that tiny spike in your pulse you felt every time you two sparred.  

“But if we could go back to your uncle, I’m sure losing him had to be hard – what with him being your only family.” He takes a turn fanning himself with his notebook. ”Was your friend, Martin, there for you during that difficult time?” 

That particular question actually makes you pause and reflect. You’d been so lost in grief back then, which is part of the reason it had taken you so long to claw your way out of that dark hole. And, if memory served, you’d done that majority of that clawing on your own.

“I’m sure he was around, Mr. Levinson.” Your answer sounds cagey, even to your own ears. “But I pretty much wore my grief like a sweater back then. And if I’m being honest, those first few months after losing him were nothing but a miserable haze.”    

“I know the feeling.” He murmurs as he scribbles on the page. 

“Look.” You blow out a breath as you attempt to gauge the distance between the desk and the ground. As of this moment, you officially regretted not grabbing your step stool. “I don’t know where Martin is or who he’s running from. All I know is that he was scared, but he refused to tell me anything more, okay?”

“Did he ask you for money?”

“Yes.” 

He’d also called you too. And while you choose to keep that little detail to yourself, you figure there was no harm in telling him about the money. At the time you’d had no idea you were potentially aiding and abetting a criminal. Or maybe you just hadn’t wanted to believe it.

“And did you give it to him?” The intense look in his beautiful blue eyes has you suddenly feeling foolish.  

“Yes.” 

It’s that one word, spoken barely above a whisper, that leaves Ari shaking his head. His gaze drops to the ground as he works to rein-in his temper. You have no idea what a struggle it is for him to do so – because he’s not upset with you. 

If anything, you’d just given him one more reason to run that slippery motherfucker into the goddamned ground. 

“How much did he get you for?” Even though Ari has calmed himself considerably, his tone still comes off harsher than he intends. 

“Almost $500.” You tell him, your face hot with embarrassment. “I suppose I should’ve asked more questions. You probably think I’m an idiot for –”

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He swiftly interjects, not wanting you to get upset. “You’re doin’ so great bein’ honest with me right now.” Unsure of what else to do, he tosses his notebook aside in favor of reaching for your hand. “I know this shit ain’t easy.”  

“I think I’m done for now.” You tell him, doing your best to avoid looking at your now joined hands. God, he really needed to stop doing that. “Please.”

“Okay.” He readily agrees as his thumb strokes along the ridge of your knuckles. “Then we’re done.” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “Are you gonna let me help you down off the counter before you kick me out?”

“It’s okay. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You mumble as you busy yourself with trying to figure out the easiest way to sit and scootch your way out of your current situation.

The last thing you needed was this man accidentally throwing out his back over some misplaced chivalry. 

To his credit, Ari decides to ignore your feeble protests. “C’mon and let me help you.” He repeats, gesturing for you to step towards the edge of the counter so that he can grab you by the waist. “And then I’ll be on my way.”

“Really, I’m fine.” You attempt to swat at his hands, which doesn’t actually work.

“C’mon, darlin’.” He assures you gently. “Just trust me.” The next thing you know, you’re suddenly being lifted into the air. “I got you.”

“Ack – I’m too heavy!” You squeal, immediately caught off guard by the way your legs briefly dangle in the air. Try as you might, you honestly could not remember the last time a man had picked you up. 

Your heart speeds up as he effortlessly sets you down on your feet, allowing your body to slide down the solid wall of his chest. Instinctively, your hands fly to his biceps in an effort to steady yourself. 

“Thank you.” You’re suddenly having a hard time breathing around this man. “But you really shouldn’t have done that. You could’ve hurt –”

“Sweetheart, you ain’t nothin’ but a feather.” Ari rumbles, his hands still resting firmly on your hips. 

“Somehow I doubt that.” You whisper, knowing that you should demand that he let you go. Except your body is too busy buzzing to actually cooperate. 

“Happy to prove you wrong any time.” While you suspect that he hadn’t really meant to say that, his smile is full of promise. “But right now, I’m afraid I’ve gotta head out.” Although it still takes another second for him to release you. 

Not that you’re complaining any. Which deep down you know could spell trouble for you. 

Before he leaves, however, Ari reaches into the front pocket of his jeans to hand you what looks a lot like a business card. “What’s this?” You mentally smack yourself in the forehead the moment the question leaves your mouth. 

“My card.” He responds as he now heads toward the door. “That’s my cell, just in case you need it.”

“Oh.”

“Call any time, day or night.” Ari’s gruff, no-nonsense tone goes straight to your core. “You remember somethin’ about Martin? Call me. You lookin’ for someone to stand guard while you lock up at night? Call me. You need to hear a friendly voice in the dark? Fucking call me.” 

His offer takes you by surprise. So much so, that you’re temporarily rendered speechless as you clutch the stiff piece of paper in your palm. While you weren’t sure if you’d ever take him up on his offer, you could certainly appreciate his generosity. 

“Thank you.” You rasp, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip.

“Any time, Duchess.” His head dips politely as he exits through the front door. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

And just like that he was gone, which meant you could finally breathe normally again. Strange butterflies once again fill your belly as you take your time examining the card your bounty hunter had left behind. While you weren’t sure if you’d ever call him, you decide it’s worth tucking into a zippered pocket in your purse before getting on with the rest of your day. 

Little did you know that you would come to need that tiny piece of paper sooner rather than later…  

END

Sweet Renegade Series Tag List

@katymae12344

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

@queerqueenlynn

@pono-pura-vida

@daykrisr999

@jamneuromain

@ninacutebee16

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@emerald-writes

@gh0stgurl

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (6)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, tension, sexy mobsters, slow burn, fluff, first date, talk about sex, making out, I'm a tease :)

Indecent Proposal (5)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

You gasp at your words. Did you just say that? This isn’t you at all. You never were shy, but you’re not bold either.

While you ponder and think about what you said, Steve and Bucky share a look.

“Aw, baby. I knew we chose wisely,” you believe Bucky is about to take you right there, on the dinner table. He knocks his chair over and walks toward his husband, who jumps up just in time to cup his husband’s face and kiss him fiercely. “Fuck, I want you right now, Stevie.”

“What? I—” you lick your lips. These two men are heavily making out and you are about to join them when Steve shoves Bucky’s jacket down his broad shoulders. “Here?”

Steve ends up bending over the table while Bucky grinds his cock into his ass.

“Right here, doll,” Bucky is busy leaving hickeys on his husband’s neck. Steve moans loudly, while you try to press your legs together.

“You see, this is how we are. If we want something, we take it. If we want to do something, we give a shit what people think,” Steve pants between kisses. “If you want us, you’ll have to loosen up a little and just go with the flow.”

“Can I…watch?” You can’t believe you just asked them to let you watch them fuck. They chuckle and eagerly kiss each other. “Fuck, did I say that loud too?”

You groan and press your forehead against the table surface. “Baby doll never be ashamed of yourself. We want you to embrace your lust.”

“Do you often watch people have sex?” Steve turns his head to look at you while his husband runs his hand over Steve’s chest. “You can tell us anything. We won’t judge you.”

“Uh-I like to watch porn…sometimes,” you don’t lift your head and murmur. “Scott was not very adventurous in the bedroom. Most of the time I stared at the wall and tried to fake an orgasm. I even fell asleep once.”

“He didn’t fuck you until your legs were shaking?” Bucky stops touching his husband. He watches you lift your head to meet his gaze. “Steve, we need to make her scream soon. We cannot leave her unsatisfied for much longer. Her poor kitty needs nice treatment.”

“We will start with eating that pussy,” Steve watches you wiggle on your seat. “But we should treat her like a lady first and have dinner.”

“But…you were about…and I’m…” Your voice is a little too high for your liking. “I wanted to watch you.”

“And you will, sweetness,” Bucky purrs. He pecks his husband’s lips. “Steve is right. We want our first night together to be special.”

“Tell me,” Steve sits next to you. He grips the backrest of your chair and leans close enough to let you smell his cologne, “what kind of porn did you watch? Two girls? Two guys.”

“Stevie loves to watch too,” Bucky plops down on the chair he occupied earlier. “Especially himself getting fucked in the mirror.”

“Buck!” The blonde tuts. He’s not shy when it comes to sex, but he doesn’t want to scare you off. “That’s too much information for a first date.”

“I think,” Bucky leans toward your chair and places his hand on your thigh, “she loves hearing about our sex life. Right, sweetness? You want me to tell you how I bend Stevie over and give him what he’s craving? My thick cock.”

You’re suddenly too hot. They are both so close you can feel their breath on your exposed neck. “Please…”

“Please what, baby doll?” Steve moves impossibly closer to press a kiss on your cheek. “We want you to answer our questions before we touch you.”

“What do you like to watch to get yourself off?” Bucky runs his hand up and down your thigh. He tickles your skin with his fingertips. “Please tell me, sweetness.”

“I-I started with the usual. A lot of cum, and loud girls faking orgasms. Then I discovered gangbangs, and uh…spanking. I liked blindfolding and … oh … and there was this one video with a breeding bench. I watched the girl get bred by three guys. I never came harder.”

“Stevie,” Bucky bites his lower lip. He’s close to just throwing you on the table and crawling between your legs to fuck you straight into the table.

“Not yet, Bucky,” Steve warns. “Go ahead, doll. Tell us more. What do you like? Two guys taking care of your sweet cunt? Is that what you want?”

“I watched their cum run out of her cunt. It made me so wet,” you whisper so no one else but the two mobsters can hear. “Another time I watched two hot guys. They were so…”

“Hot?” Bucky snickers.

“I didn’t think I’d be turned on by watching a guy get fucked. But damn, he sucked the pretty guy’s cock and then he got that perfect dick and…” you drop your gaze, ashamed of your fantasies. “Is this wrong that I like to watch too?”

“We told you, don’t be ashamed of your fantasies. If you love watching people have sex it’s only natural. I love to watch too,” Steve smirks knowingly when you shift in your seat. “I can hardly wait to watch Bucky have his way with you. He’s a master in giving heads.”

“So, sweetness,” Bucky gets bold and moves his hand between your spread thighs, “are you on the menu for Bucky tonight?”

Indecent Proposal (7)

Tags in reblog.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 14

part 1 | part 13 | ao3

fuckin' finally some FLUFF

Dinner is awkward.

It’s awkward, Steve thinks as he spears a Brussels sprout with more force than strictly necessary, because Dustin promised that it was just going to be the three of them tonight, and now he’s sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with his leather-clad metalhead neighbor.

It went like this: Steve showed up at the Henderson’s front door with a pie plate and a two-liter of Grapico under his arm, looking like a dork on picture day in his best jeans and a nice polo with his hair actually combed for once, and he lifted his hand to knock only to be greeted by Eddie throwing the door open and hollering, “Be right back, Henderson! Gotta grab— oh, shit.” 

And then, more eloquently, “Uh…” 

Uh. Like Steve was the one unexpectedly crashing the party.

Steve stabs another sprout. 

They’ve been bumbling through stilted small talk about work and school and weekend plans for what feels like a painfully long time, and Eddie has his elbows on the table — didn’t even bother to take his jacket off because he was apparently raised in a barn — and it’s basically dinner with Barb’s parents all over again. 

This is finger-lickin’ good.  

God. Get him out of here.

“Okay,” Dustin cuts through the stalled-out silence in the room. He jabs an accusatory fork into the air, pointing between the two of them and narrowing his eyes. “You two are being weird.” 

Eddie startles dumbly, and Steve just says, “Hmm?”

“You.” He aims the fork at Steve. “Are being.” It moves to Eddie; back to Steve. “Weird. What’s going on? I thought you two were getting along now.” 

Steve dabs his mouth with his napkin. Wow. Okay. So they’re doing this now.

Eddie either doesn’t get the memo or just decides to rip it up, because instead of being honest he throws on a theatrical smile and flings an arm around Steve’s shoulders, proclaiming, “Of course we are! C’monnn. Me and this guy?” He reaches up to give Steve a gentle noogie. Steve wonders if you can get a more lenient sentence if the guy you murdered really, really deserved it. “Thick as thieves.” 

Claudia smiles fondly.

Dustin’s not buying it. “You’re so full of shit, you know that?”

“Dusty!” Claudia gasps. She gives him a stern look as she tops off her wine glass, then leans over to do the same for Steve and Eddie’s glasses, too. “Stevie, honey, don’t listen to him,” she soothes. “I think it’s sweet. It’s good to see you with some boyfriends your own age.”

Dustin chokes at her word choice, and Steve blushes to his ears. 

Eddie’s arm tightens around his shoulders. “Yeah, Stevie,” he smirks, leaning in a little closer. “We’re great boyfriends, aren’t we?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Dustin joins in, “best boyfriends I’ve ever seen.” 

Surely murder’s just murder, right? Like, from a sentencing perspective? Does it matter how many people you off, or do you just get thirty-to-life regardless?

“Steve, tell mom more about your boyfriend.”

Steve chugs his glass of wine.

—

The conversation turns to less embarrassing topics after that, the words flowing more easily now that everyone’s warmed up with wine and making fun of Steve. Claudia asks what everyone’s doing for Halloween, and Dustin tells her that Eddie and Steve are taking the boys trick-or-treating in the neighborhood with the good candy bars (which was news to Steve, goddammit), and that leads to a discussion of costume plans. 

Dustin and Mike are going as a pair again, Marty and Doc from Back to the Future. Lucas is doing his own thing, but he's "totally delusional if he thinks a costume is gonna win Max back." Steve doesn’t really have a costume this year, so he’ll probably just pull some sweats out of the closet, throw a whistle around his neck and go as a basketball coach, and Eddie, surprisingly, has the lowest effort costume of them all. 

“Oh, I’m going as a vampire,” he says when Claudia asks. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out some cheap plastic teeth and pops them into his mouth. “Ta-daaa.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “You just carry those around?” 

“Isn’t it awesome?” Dustin asks.

“Not really, no. It’s not.” 

“But S’theeeve,” Eddie lisps around the fangs. The wine’s made him weirder, playful and too-friendly and berry pink in the cheeks. He holds his sleeve in front of his face like a vampire hiding behind a cape and drawls, “I vant to s’thuck your bloood.”

Steve vants to jump out the window. “I’m gonna go serve the pie.” 

—

part 15

tags below the cut, comment if you want me to tag you tomorrow 🩷

@acedorerryn @ahsokatanoss @annabanannabeth @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awolfstudio @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @burymestanding @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cr0w-culture @cuips-not-cute @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @fandomfix8 @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @heartsong18 @hellion-child @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @messrs-weasley @nburkhardt @noodle-shenaniganery @ppunkpuppyy @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @steddieas-shegoes @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @teatimeeverybody @thealwithnoname @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve

[unclewaynemunson]

Steve held onto Eddie tightly, needing some time to process everything that had happened over the past few minutes: the confessions, the amazed laughter, the sensation of Eddie's lips against his own... It all felt so different from what he was used to, even now, when they were simply holding each other, their heads buried in the crooks of each other's necks. Eddie smelt differently, tasted differently; everything about him felt different. He was all sharp edges, not a single curve beneath Steve's fingers... But their bodies still fit together perfectly, even though it felt so different from any girl Steve had ever held in his arms.

'Are you okay, Stevie?' Eddie murmured softly in the silence between them.

'Yeah. Just, like, really overwhelmed,' Steve answered.

And apparently, that had been the wrong answer: with an unexpected abruptness, Eddie let go of Steve, took a step back, his eyes wide.

'What's wrong?' Steve asked. Eddie knew that Steve had never done anything with a guy before, he knew very well that this was all new for Steve – so why did he look so shocked by Steve being overwhelmed? Wasn't overwhelmed a good thing?

'What do you mean, overwhelmed?'

Steve felt like he was overlooking something here, like a big part of this conversation was hiding in plain sight but he was too stupid to recognize it.

'I don't know, just like... This is all new for me. But good new! It's just gonna take some getting used to, I guess.'

Something in Eddie's gaze hardened. 'It's gonna take some getting used to, huh?' Eddie echoed. Steve flinched by how mocking those words sounded.

'Jesus Christ, I can't believe I actually thought... I can't do this, man.'

Something felt so completely wrong and Steve still had no idea why this was happening. 'I don't understand.'

'Look.' Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, then opened them again. 'I've heard this one before. A little more often than I would've liked, to be honest. Some guy being all sweet and telling me he cares about me and shit. And then all of a sudden when shit gets real it's like “Sorry Eddie, I'm so overwhelmed” – and I'll give them time, be patient, because I actually believe them when they tell me they care about me. And it's all love behind closed doors, and it feels damn near perfect, until I see them when we're not behind closed doors anymore and they act like I'm a fucking stranger, or a freak, or worse than that. But I need to understand that they're so overwhelmed, so scared, that it's a lot, that I'm a lot and – I'm not made for loving behind closed doors, Steve, I can't do that. I can't be someone's dirty secret anymore. Not again, and certainly not with you.'

Steve felt his heart break for Eddie. Whoever those guys were, whoever had hurt Eddie like that – he wanted to tell them exactly how disgusting they were. Not for loving boys, but for treating the most perfect boy in the fucking universe like that. Like a dirty secret. Like something that needed to be hidden away.

He wanted nothing more than to hold Eddie just as tight as only a minute before, to kiss him and tell him how wrong he was when he thought that that's what Steve meant when he said he was overwhelmed... But right now, Eddie didn't really look like he'd appreciate another hug or a kiss, so instead, Steve settled for grabbing his hand. He saw Eddie's jaw clench, felt how he tried to pull away, but he strengthened his grip, stubbornly refusing to let go.

'I hate that that happened to you,' he told Eddie. 'And those guys – they were all fucking stupid. I would never – I don't wanna hide behind closed doors, either, Eddie, I promise. I'd happily tell Robin and Nancy, and even the kids, right this moment, if that's what you want. Hell, I would tell anyone, scream it off the fucking rooftops. I swear I didn't mean it like that.'

Finally, that guarded look started to disappear from Eddie's eyes.

'All I meant,' Steve continued, 'is that this is new, and different, and yeah, maybe it is a bit scary - but only in the best possible way. I don't think I've ever been more certain about what I'm feeling than right now, with you.' He squeezed Eddie's hand. 'And that's fucking overwhelming, but that doesn't mean I want to hide it away. I know that you have so much love to give. I can't believe how lucky I am to be the one to receive it. And I'd never wanna hide something so precious behind closed doors. Even if I'll always continue to be overwhelmed by it.'

Eddie opened his mouth, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat. A single tear escaped from his eyes and rolled over his cheek.

Steve took a step closer, gently brushed away the tear with the hand that wasn't holding Eddie's. And when Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve's torso again, clinging onto him with something that almost felt like desperation, Steve was again struck by how different this all was. How overwhelming. How infinitely precious.

[familyvideostevie]

october first

day one: steve harrington after the events of august, steve and bee girl (you) wake up in your new house | no good at waiting one-shot, fluff | 1.1k

You wake up with a shiver. The morning sun bathes one wall of your bedroom in pink light. Your sheer curtains flutter in the wind and you snuggle deeper into your bed, tugging on the covers.

“Hey!” someone next to you grumbles. “S’cold in here, give it back.”

Steve tugs on the duvet but you don’t relinquish your hold, instead rolling with it until you’re pressed against his back.

“I know,” you mumble, eyes fluttering. Your bedroom isn’t really decorated yet but you’ve got the basics. Mattress, bed frame, dresser. Mismatched bedside tables you found at an antique sale two towns over and a rug Joyce gave you from the Byers garage. The rest of the house is coming together slowly. You have yet to get a dining table but you do have a couch and lots of kitchen utensils. Bob gave you an old bookshelf and the kids pooled money together to buy you a welcome mat. The good people of Hawkins have treated you and Steve moving into the little farmhouse as an invitation to get rid of all of their junk.

You love it.

Steve groans and shifts, releasing the duvet and turning so that he’s facing you, nose to nose. You can barely see the eyes you love so much through his lashes. “Morning,” he says. “We’re going to have to buy more blankets if you’re going to steal them every morning.”

“You’re the one who left the window open last night,” you remind him. He scoots even closer to you and shoves his face into your neck.

“Because you like fall air,” he says. His lips are warm on your skin. “Never say I don’t do anything for you.”

Living with Steve is pretty much a dream. Even when he leaves his shoes in the way, even when he doesn’t clean his toothpaste from the sink. Even when you forget to do the dishes or don’t put your laundry away. It’s fun. It’s like every day is a dream come true.

“No one says that,” you laugh. You twine your fingers in his hair. “Especially not me.”

Steve makes a pleased sound. “What are we doing today?” he asks. The last two months have been nonstop. Finishing the house, finding furniture, moving out of Bob’s for you and the farm loft for him. You haven’t had time for a proper housewarming yet.

“Nothing,” you say. He pulls back to look at you, eyebrows raised.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Hell yeah,” he says, running the pad of his finger over your top lip. “Finally a day off we don’t have to spend running around town.”

“We have to go see about that table tomorrow, though. After work.”

Steve flops back on his pillow. “It never ends,” he says.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “But it’ll be worth it.”

“Well, duh.” He raises his arms above his head and stretches. “We need a table so we can play beer pong at our housewarming.”

“And so we can eat at it, Steve.”

He smirks. “Oh, yeah. That too. And so we can do all sorts of nasty things on it—”

You place your hand over his mouth. “That’s enough from you, Harrington.” He licks your palm but you don’t pull it away. “Behave.”

His expression morphs into what you think he thinks are puppy dog eyes but really he just looks like he ate something sour unexpectedly. He mumbles against your hand and you remove it. “Christ, honey,” he says. “I was gonna suffocate.”

“What a way to go,” you deadpan. He laughs and turns away from you, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and stretching again. You admire the freckled expanse of his bare back.

“You hungry?” he asks. “We could do pancakes.” He stands and wanders to the closet where he pulls out two sweatshirts. One he throws to you and the other he drags over his head.

“When we get a dog are you going to make it breakfast, too?”

Steve’s head pops out of the hoodie — one of yours, you’re pretty sure — and scoffs. “You think you’re funny with this dog-dad shit,” he says. “You watch. I’m going to be so normal. Nothing like Dustin’s mom and their cat. Nothing.”

“Sure, Steve,” you coo. You sit up in bed and pull on your own sweatshirt, borderline giddy with the sheer serenity of the morning.

Here you are, in your home with the person you love most in the world, talking about getting a dog.

This time last year you weren’t even friends yet. You remind him.

Steve snorts and crosses his arms, leaning on the dresser. “I was half in love with you already.”

“Was not,” you gasp. “We’d only been mean to each other!” You hadn’t really liked Steve until you both sat soaking wet in your car. You’d been curious about him before that. Interested. A little obsessed. But it warms you from head to toe to know you’d had him captivated from moment one.

He grins his most boyish grin, the one he usually sends you before he’s about to do something that will make your face hot. “Exactly. I had a dream about you the first day we met.”

“Really?”

He nods and rubs the back of his neck like he’s suddenly embarrassed. “Yeah,” he says. “I don’t think I told anyone, though.”

“What was it about?”

Yeah, he’s totally blushing. “Uh.” he says. “It wasn’t anything big. Just you buying apples from me, I think.”

You can’t help it. You laugh. You laugh so hard your stomach aches. “Oh my god, Steve,” you gasp. “I told you to fuck off and you had a dream about me.” You’ve almost been together a whole year and he still surprises you. You hope it’s going to be like this for the rest of your lives.

He’s scowling. “Yeah, whatever.” Even as he grumbles he makes his way back to the bed and sits on the edge of it. He puts his hand on your leg through the duvet and squeezes gently. “Okay, funny girl, do you want apples or chocolate chips?”

“I’ll help,” you say. “Both, obviously.”

“But first…” Steve says, leaning in. Your eyes flutter shut and he pauses a breath away from your lips. “Your breath stinks,” he whispers.

“Speak for yourself,” you whisper back. He snickers and then leans in, hand framing your face. His lips are a little chapped but his kiss is as sweet as always, tender and loving. He kisses you once, twice, then trails his lips along your cheek.

“Morning,” he says, as if you’d just woken up. “Love you, bee girl.”

You sigh with happiness. “Love you back.”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[2knightt]

hiii I was wondering if u could do smth for the outsiders? Like Darry has a s/o who is the mother figure for the gang and often Johnny n pony call her ma / mom? I js thought it was sooo cute but if not it’s also okay dearrr

darry curtis x motherly!reader

!warnings!

1.fem!reader

2.swearing

3.probably ooc LMFAO

darry would literally love you. oh my god.

you’re caring???? you help take care of the gang??? you help ponyboy with homework???

you might as well rip his heart out of his chest cause it’s already yours!

the gang loves you, probably even more than darry does!

but to darry, that’s impossible.

you’re heaven sent to him. he truly believes you’re a miracle!

when he’s stressed out, you’re right there to help him destress!

giving him a massage, giving him tea, shit maybe even all of the above if you feel like it.

“jeez dare, stop overworking yourself so much! you’re gonna die some day because of it!”

“no i won’t, been doin’ it for so long i’ve gotten used to it.”

“thats even worse!!”

when you cook for him he will GOBBLE it up.

homie can taste the love you put in and he thinks it makes the food taste 100x better.

but even you have stressful days! but, expect darry to treat you like a princess!

he will not let you leave his bed, he is getting everything you want.

water? done. a book? already in your hand. a fucking car? he’s wasting all his money for you!

he will follow you to hell if you ask him nicely.

he just loves you so much.

when he somehow get’s hurt in rumbles he’s so glad you’re there to patch him up.

but he isn’t glad that he gets an earful from you.

“you know i hate these things. why do you out of all people go darry? you’re better than this.”

he just grumbles because he doesn’t even want to answer anything with a black eye that’s slowly forming on his right eye.

the gang is so thankful that you can patch them up too. they sometimes fight over who you’re gonna help next.

“i’m goin’ after darry!”

“SODA! YOU’VE GONE SECOND FOR LIKE 3 TIMES IN A ROW. IT’S MY TURN!!”

“PISS OFF TWO-BIT.”

“actually it’s my turn.”

“shut the hell up steve.”

“AYE!”

ponyboy’s just happy he has a mother figure in his life again. his mom was definitely his favourite parent, so now that he has someone to replicate that, he’s on the moon.

he only calls you mom or ma in private, he’s too embarrassed to say it with others in the room.

BUT, he definitely lets the mom calling slip accidentally infront of the gang.

“mom, do you need help with the dishes?”

“MOM?!”

“WHAT?!?”

pony just looks down in embarrassment until you chuckle and agree to him helping you. then he’s all smiles and sunshine!

darry is so happy to see this you don’t get it.

darry asks for advice from you to get to know ponyboy better since he rambles on and on about whatever he’s most interested in at the time.

“so uh, about ponyboy…”

“oh! he really likes ‘gone with the wind’, i know you don’t have much time to read so, i can just tell you the important stuff!”

he just nods and stares at you as you talk about the characters, the main plot, and the small details ponyboy’s obsessed with.

he’s taking mental notes and thanking you heavily when you’re finished talking!

“thank you, y/n. really. i appreciate all you do for me.”

“awe! of course, babe. anything for you.”

he’s giggling and blushing at the last sentence

he’s so thankful that you’re there to talk some sense into the gang.

sometimes he sits on the sidelines and just watches.

“DALLAS WINSTON. WHAT ON GODS GREEN EARTH WERE YOU THINKING PULLING SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!”

“I’M SORRY! JESUS.”

dallas just throws his hands in the air in defeat, knowing that no matter how much he apologizes you’ll continue to scold him.

but he listens, he doesn’t do whatever he did for awhile.

darry just chuckles at the sight.

his mom used to scold dallas like that, so seeing you do the same brought back good memories for him.

being around you just reminds him of the ‘good old days’ so when he’s around you his mood immediately lifts.

like he could be yelling at ponyboy to raise his grades and you could walk in and darry would go “AND STUDY MO- oh hey babyyy!!☺️☺️”

everyone’s eternally grateful for you.

ESPECIALLY JOHNNY GOOD LORD.

he goes to you for literally everything.

something bad happened to him?? he’s at your front door! something good happened to him??? he’s right beside you telling you about it!

yeah, he calls you mom too.

he doesn’t mean to though! he just looks up to you so much, he’s always seen you has a mother figure but he never thought he’d actually call you mom!

“hey ma, does my hair look tuff!?”

“huh?”

he’s FROZEN in place. he’s so embarrassed, he’s literally overheating.

you just giggle to yourself and say his hair does infact, look extremely tuff.

he walks away smiling with a little hop when he walks.

the gang fights over your attention with darry.

they ain’t got a good life at home, but if you give them the motherly love they’ve been missing? they will kill someone for you.

darry loves and hates this.

he loves that you and the gang get along. he can’t be with someone the gang doesn’t like, but he hates that they like you so much they talk to you 24/7.

he sometimes just snatches you while you’re talking to someone in the curtis house.

like you could be talking to sodapop and he’ll come behind you and grab you by the waist and carry you into his room.

all that while soda chases him down, yelling nonsense.

“DARRY! I WAS TALKING TO HER.”

“that’s crazy…”

overall, darry would definitely look for a mother-like lover.

he needs it fr🙏

author notes;

1.EVERYONE SHUT UP THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST I CANT

2.when i read dear i lowkey giggled and kicked my feet

3.should i make a taglist??!!???? would literally anyone like to be tagged in my outsiders fics?!!!????

4.i really hope i did this justice LMFAO

5.btw if you’ve DMed me im not ignoring you, im working up the courage to talk to you. im a very nervous person😭😭

may 11th, 2023. 10:18PM.

[sashaisready]

Chapter Seventeen - We’re going on a little ride

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 18

Series Masterlist

You saw the engine start up to leave and you broke into a sprint as you shot across the street before they could pull away (but made sure to check for traffic this time).

You whipped yourself in front of it, banging on the hood and yelling at the tinted windshield.

“Hey!! Hey! Come out right NOW” you practically screamed. “Get your chicken shit asses out here and talk to me”.

You knew you shouldn’t speak to the terrifying mob goons like that but any worries you had were drowned by your anger, and fear for Peter’s safety. Besides, you knew most of them by now.

The door zipped open and you were surprised to see Bucky of all people step out, flanked by Steve.

He watched you carefully as he emerged. He was in one of his suits but the jacket was gone, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His vibranium arm glinted under the light of the street lamp.

“Don’t hit the car like that, Doll. The paintwork is very delicate”.

“Doing your own dirty work for a change, huh?” you spat.

Bucky chuckled as he stepped towards you. “You have a good night, Doll?” he asked, condescension dripping from him.

“Don’t fucking touch him” you spat as you pointed a warning finger at him and then to Steve. “He’s a good man. Don’t drag him into this”.

Bucky shrugged casually, shaking his head as if he had no idea what you were talking about.

“We wouldn’t hurt Mr. Quill, would we Steve?” Bucky said dubiously.

“Of course. Not our good friend, Peter” Steve replied in a monotone.

Your stomach lurched. Of course they had his full name. They probably already had his driving license and tax records on file.

“Bucky, please…” you pleaded.

He watched you attentively as you took a step towards him.

“We both just agreed to be just friends as neither of us felt a connection. Don’t hurt him. There’s nothing there” you explained calmly, trying to sound tougher than you felt.

Bucky smiled thinly. “I’m not a monster, Doll. I don’t just go around hurting people, despite what you may think. But I have to say, this is quite an impassioned defence of someone you’re ‘just friends’ with” he said sardonically, using finger quotes for your words.

Your panic gives way to anger again, his smug smirk a catalyst for your rage. The wine in your bloodstream certainly not helping your rational brain or negotiation skills in the moment.

“Well he is just my friend, alright? Not that I need to justify myself to you of all people...I don’t want him to get hurt because of me. I don’t know what sort of fucked up show you’re running here. I certainly can’t seem to get away from it, but I’ll be damned if I stand by and let innocent people get caught up in it too” you shout, practically spitting with rage.

Bucky sighs. “Doll…”

You raise a hand to silence him.

“No. You wanted to talk? Let’s talk. Steve, you can listen too if you want as James can’t seem to go ten feet without his guard dog. The fact is, I have no idea what your game is. I liked you a lot. Alright? I used to enjoy our little back and forth. Whatever it was. It was fun. And then we fucked and you treated me like a leper, cancelling our date and parading ANOTHER WOMAN in front of me days later at my own fucking workplace. Laughing at me. Watching me get upset and revelling in it. And then you send me eight million balloons and have your goons follow me. And I nearly get hit by a car trying to chase them off. And I meet a new guy. A nice guy who actually liked me who doesn’t treat me like a toy, or a cat playing with a mouse. And I can’t even enjoy that because I’m followed everywhere I go. And I tell you to leave me alone but you ignore me, just dig up information on my date and wait for me outside my house and have the gall to smirk at me like I’m crazy…”

You find yourself short of breath, the venom of your monologue catching you off guard. Your blood turns to ice as the reality of what you’ve said hits you, nervous he’ll lose it at you.

Bucky just stares back at you, unreadable as always. You briefly wonder if you’ve finally pushed him too far and you’re going to end up buried in the cement under a new apartment complex. Your stare snaps to Steve who also just returns your gaze, equally impenetrable. Bucky’s eyes briefly betray a slither of hurt too, and even though everything you’ve said is justified you can’t help but almost feel a pang of longing for him.

Bucky looks you up and down, your words ringing in his ears as guilt begins to overwhelm him.

“I’m sorry” he says forlornly.

You and Steve exchange a look of surprise. Neither of you saw that coming.

“I know I treated you badly after our night together, Doll. It was stupid. I lost my head a bit, thinking you weren’t into me. So I played a game, I thought it was going to be an extension of our banter and I misjudged it. And then I was too stubborn to apologise”.

He sounds quiet and subdued, a far cry from his usual self.

Your mouth falls open in surprise. “Oh…well. Thank-you. I appreciate that” you reply softly.

He approaches you and his hand glides into your hair, his fingers stroking the side of your head as he gazes at you. You find yourself letting him touch you, moving closer to him, entranced by his sea blue eyes as he continues.

“I’m sorry I’ve upset you. I genuinely didn’t mean to. I feel crazy around you, if I’m honest. Like I can’t keep my shit together. And it just feels like every time I try and fix it I just make it worse”.

You soften as you stroke his metal hand, intertwining your fingers with his. Your faces are so close together that you can make out every mole and freckle on his cheek.

“All you had to do was say that” you tell him softly.

Steve takes that cue to disappear back into the car, giving you both some privacy.

Bucky smiles, his flesh hand moving to your chin and caressing it softly.

“I think about our night all the time” he admits.

“Me too...” you admit, your eyes glazed with lust.

“I know I’ve got a lot of making up to do” he tells you, and you smile back at him.

“You really do” you smirk.

His lips crash into yours and you’re momentarily breathless as you allow yourself to be lost in the kiss. Every sensation from the last time comes flooding back as his tongue slips into your mouth and your fingers find their way into his hair. It’s so good. It’s perfect. It’s everything you want.

He pulls away briefly and rests his forehead against yours.

“Quill will be fine” he whispers. “He’s just going to get roughed up a tiny bit. Just to send a message. But he’ll be alright” he says soothingly.

You gasp, unable to comprehend his casual tone with the horror of what he's saying as you place your hands on his chest and shove him firmly away from you.

“What? Why?? He didn’t do anything!” You splutter furiously.

“I just need to be sure he understands that you’re just ‘friends’” he replies calmly. “And that my men see that he’s been dealt with. They know who you are to me. They can’t work for me with respect knowing I let another man take you out”.

You scoff, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of what he’s telling you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you practically scream at him. “I’m not like your fucking car that he scratched. We aren’t even together” you sneer, waving your fingers between the two of you.

Bucky shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Messages need to be sent” he said coolly as his hands moved down to your hips. “Like I said, we’ll go easy on him, you don’t have to worry”.

You gasp in horror as you shake yourself away from his grip. Suddenly all of your rage and upset comes flooding back, the kiss long forgotten.

Every instinct tells you to flee. To get the hell out of there, away from this monster - away from the man who talks about beating people so casually that you’d think he was reciting a lunch order.

But you think of Peter. And he’s the most important person to think about right now so you can’t run. You couldn’t live with yourself if he got hurt. You need to make sure he’s safe. And to do that you need to speak Bucky’s language.

“Listen” you tell him firmly, your eyes blazing. “If anything happens to Peter. Anything at all. I will never speak to or acknowledge you again. And I mean that. I will quit the bakery and move my ass to a different state just to get away from you. You understand me?” you warn him. "Maybe even leave the east coast altogether".

He blinks at you, surprised by your outburst. You take his silence as your cue to continue.

“And I will spend the rest of my days trying to bringing your down. Police. Feds. Anyone. I mean it. I’ll just keep going until I find someone not in your pocket. You hear me?”

Your mouth is dry and you’re trembling but you’ve said it now. You just hope it’s enough, that it sticks.

After a beat of silence which seems to stretch on forever, he replies.

“You done?” Bucky questions, deadpan.

“Almost. Keep the fuck away from me, you fuckin’ sociopath” you snarl.

Bucky laughs. “Always the fiery one, aren’t you Doll? Alright. I won’t touch Quill. I promise. Scout’s honour. And I’ll leave you alone like you want. That’s no problem”.

You nod, surprised he acquiesced and expecting more of a fight.

He takes a step towards you and suddenly his eyes seem darker. You step away from him instinctively.

“But Doll, trust me when I say this…” he says with a quiet intensity which chills you. “If I ever hear that you’re going to the police about me...or the feds...I won’t be half as agreeable as I am right now”.

He cups your chin and squeezes your cheeks together in his metal hand as you feel your legs nearly give way from under you. His grip isn’t hard, but you feel the impact of his threat. He places a small kiss on your lips before releasing you and heading back to the car.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make it work, Doll” he grins darkly.

The door slams and the car pulls away a second later. You’re left standing alone in the road, distant noises of the city gradually filling your ears as you catch your breath. You briefly fall to your knees, rubbing your fingers across the tarmac of the road in an attempt to ground yourself.

You finally stand again, exhaling. Peter is safe. You are safe. It will all be alright. You can make a new start. He won’t be bothering you now. You’ll be okay.

As you stumble towards your apartment you’re so worked up that you don’t even notice the scurrying footsteps emerging from behind you. Seconds later it all goes dark and you realise to your horror that someone has put a bag or a sack or something made of material over your head. The fibres scratch uncomfortably against your skin.

You try to scream but a firm hand clamps over your mouth and you find yourself pushed along by strong arms. You hear a car door opening as hushed voices chatter. You’re thrown inside a vehicle, crashing against the floor of either a van or a truck as you hear the echo of the engine rumbling beneath you. You try to scramble up onto your knees but someone grabs your hands, a zip tie is sealed around your wrists and suddenly you’re helpless. You desperately try to vault yourself up onto your knees again but a gruff voice you don’t recognise speaks and you stop in your tracks.

“Just stay right there, princess” the stranger tells you. “We’re going on a little ride. And you’re gonna wanna sit tight for it”.

You go to protest but feel something hard and metal pushes into the small of your back. Despite never feeling one before, you know immediately that it’s the barrel of a gun.

Finally you stay still as you feel your fear build, laying on the floor of the vehicle, waiting patiently for your next instruction.

*

Bucky’s head is in his hands as Steve drives them back to the house.

“Just had to double down on Quill, huh?” Steve asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Steve..” Bucky warns.

“Had her in the palm of your hand...after all this time and all that scheming…and you threw it away because you couldn’t resist a beating…”

“Steve…I swear to God…”

“Jussayin’. How can you literally be kissing her one moment and have her threatening to rat you out to the feds on you the next? That’s impressive”.

Bucky ignores Steve and sighs. He’s angry at you, fuming even – especially at your threat to rat him out. Not that you know a lot anyway, he has purposefully kept his world separate from you – but still, you’d been inside his home, you know nearly all of his men by name or at least by face. He was sure you still had at least some of the cash he’d given you, and it was possible a couple of the serial numbers could be linked to a job or two…

You didn’t have enough to take him down, not with his ironclad business fronts and hotshot lawyers – but you potentially had enough to make his life more difficult than he’d like.

But he knew Steve was right. He was so close to winning you round, and he blew it. He saw red when he’d seen you kissing Quill, lost his head for a second. This was how he dealt with things, it’s what he knew. Even if you and Quill had agreed to just be friends like you said, it had sent a barrel of rage through him that someone else had touched you. Had felt your lips against theirs.

Even though he knew it was all his own fault.

[mischiefmaker615]

Ghost (Loki Love Story) Ch.1

Summary: Somehow Loki is back from the dead and.. quite literally, stuck with you! and his methods on trying to 'fix this' seems a bit to exotic for your taste.. but dead or alive, a god of mischief is still a god of mischief.

Rating: R

Note: bare with my intro *sweats* next chapter gets into it ;)

From Row Seats: @soulpiercing @catsladen @foxherder @lcolumbia1988 @llokii @eleniblue @liminalpebble @stumblingthruspace @lokisgoodgirl @joyfullymassivewhispers @asgards-princess-of-mischief @crimson25

It’s been years since the prince of Asgard has been dead; why they chose to keep his attire on display? I’d never know. Midgard hated him, the Avengers stopped him, Thor was kind enough to grant him mercy by taking him home alive and what did it cost? His life. Heroic? Perhaps, I heard he tried perfecting Thor before Thanos decided to expire him.. Asgard is gone too. We live amongst Midgard now, but as our own people, the Asgardians but I find myself preferring to be amongst the mortals anyway, they are much more fascinating, a change of pace compared to my own Asgardian kind.

I’m sure the Avenger’s think so too; after finding out that I inherited wings- which is most likely why the Asgardians treated me like an outcast anyway- took me in and I now assist them with whatever mission they see fit at throwing at me. Luckily no drastic battles have emerged since the defeat of Thanos so adjusting to life again was everyone’s focus rather than being scared at something like that happening again. Other than the team, I didn’t lose anybody in the blip. I just returned back to New Asgard alone and back to the city for work every day. Steve is a pretty close friend, but if we weren’t hanging out at the tower now and again, nobody really stuck around anymore like the old days to chill.

The Fallen is what caught my attention one day in the city of New York, a museum in which those who had any help in defeating Thanos was honored there that had perished; that’s where I saw the bastard’s costume behind glass. If he hadn’t, Midgard couldn’t give two shits about him and many don’t even stop to look at his display, which was pretty much just his Asgardian attire he always famously wore back at the palace. Where you’d start putting it on and off, would remain a mystery to me- but his magic usually always got his work done for him ninety percent of the time anyway.

The finger smudge on the glass caught my eye and I resisted the urge to wipe it off myself, let alone catching myself on why I cared in the first place. He and I never spoke, nor did we interact at the palace at all. I was the one polishing the weaponry where he was going off to battles and attending long meetings and.. whatever royals did.

‘’excuse me- if you don’t mind, I’ll clean that right up.’’

A woman’s voice brought me out of my thoughts and I glanced at the custodian waiting with a towel and a spray bottle- face tired yet confident. I merely nodded and stepped aside, over my little timeline story anyway so i made my way over to the stairs.

An ache in my back made me move my shoulders a bit to try to rid of the feeling; my wings never really liking to stay cooped up and hidden under my denim jacket I promised to upgrade but never did. Larger clothes were easier to hide them and more comfortable rather than folding them tighter to accommodate my stubborn style- plus, the bigger the jacket the more people would stop me as if I stole something and I don’t like to get bothered in every place I’m in.

Once upstairs, the place gave a good background on the walls of the blip’s history, which was 40 percent true and each Avenger got his or her own section of backstory, powers, and their part on stopping Thanos. Honestly this whole place was annoying and the only actual Avenger that stopped by here was either me- if I even considered myself an Avenger, and Steve. He tended to reminisce the section on Stark’s sacrifice.

Thor’s second was in the middle of the room and if you turned your back to it, you were facing the front of the building which would allow you to go to the railing of the balcony to have a view downstairs in which you just came. Ironically when I peak over the railing and to the bottom floor, if one would fall they would smash right into Loki’s glass costume display. Why they didn’t include him up here with his brother.. perhaps it was to keep Villains and Heroes on separate floors.. Loki I wouldn’t consider a villain, he was just.. misguided.

A loud boom is what silenced both floors, followed by another one but ever louder this time. My body tensed and my hands tightened on the railing as I looked around, people pausing in confusion and growing panic. It wasn’t until an explosion happened at the front of the building- sending rubble everywhere at the crowd is when people started scattering. A handful of men flooded the building where men in black suits pointed their guns with a very familiar symbol on their uniform.

Hydra.

I sprung into action- wings practically ripping through the jacket as I leaped over the railing and they spread out to catch me into flight. The men pointed their weapons but with a few dodges and maneuvering in the air, I got close enough for my Asgardian strength to punch one backward where he rammed into others before I landed on the ground. From behind them through the open hole in the wall I see Cap and Clint running over to help where I continued to fight.

We didn’t know why they were there or who they were trying to hurt- there wasn’t much to steal, its all useless to mortal men because the building didn’t display the weapons with the attire, but they were after something. With Hydra, I knew it couldn’t be something good.  

Natasha helped me tune up my hand-to-hand combat back in the day so I was pretty good at dodging their bullets and punches just so I could deliver my own as more seemed to appaear to join the fight.

‘’lucky to have you here Y/N- the others are on their way too’’ Steve called as he flung a guy right out the open hole in the wall while Clint headed upstairs to cover the birds eye view.

‘’well we never really get days off anyway so I have no room to complain’’ I tease and gave a hard flap, causing a gust of wind to knock two men back so they slid across the floor. ‘’what do they want?’’

‘’don’t know, but we gotta leave one standing for questioning’’ he reminded as I took to the sky again and stood on the railing itself with perfect balance while I scanned the top floor.

‘’take your pick then, Barton- where are you?’’ I called just as he dashed towards the elevator.

‘’this place has a third floor, you take this one-‘’

‘’watch out!’’ I shout as the elevator door opens in front of him just for a hydra agent to fire his gun. Luckily for Barton, he dodged out of the way but a sharp pain shot through my shoulder, causing me to cry out. The blast of the weapon pushed my body back as Clint grabbed the man to prevent him from firing again. Whatever he yelled went on ringing ears as I fell back from the railing and over the edge.

Its like the movies in those moments, where your body goes through a lot of pain where you almost don’t feel it.. or anything, let alone hear while things move in slow motion. Yet as I fell off the balcony, everything came into full feeling as I landed on Loki’s display, the glass breaking and the outfit falling down as I crash through before landing on the ground. That stupid costume was made with a high percentage of Asgardian armor so there was no breaking my fall as glass cut a good part of my right wing, same side as where I got my shoulder shot and of course I had to land on that side as well.

Rolling onto my back, I wince as I look up to see Barton’s panic face look down from above before he disappeared, his shoes pounding on the ground as he ran before Steve showed up at my side, kneeling as he raised his gun to cover me while my vision danced. Honestly the last thing I remember seeing was a bit of my blood smeared on Loki’s outfit that had fallen beside me and my body tensed.

Just before I blacked out, my blood flashed green for a moment before getting absorbed into the armor.

NEXT CHAPTER

(Continuing Chapter's *when published* can be found on my masterlist ♥)