#Stranger things fic

[skeltnwrites]

Break the Bed In— ⋆₊˚⌂

The first morning in your new home is slow and soft, spent tangled up in bed with Steve.

mdni 18+ fem/afab reader, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), switch!steve/reader, the fluffiest sweetest smut you'll ever read | 4k

a/n: this is dedicated to all my single ladies. happy valentine’s day you freaks! coincidentally i also moved houses yesterday so this feels extra fitting

── .✦

You wake well-rested; like every inch of you was unraveled and woven back together while you dreamt. Your wrist hangs off the side of the mattress, fingernails brushing the carpet. Your bed frame is a heap of wooden slats across the room, as is most of the furniture currently in your house. 

Steve’s arm is warm under your neck, his breath a steady string behind you. You flip over, your ear landing in the crease of his elbow. 

He’s softer in sleep. Cheek squished to his shoulder, lips pressed to a pout. He’s boyish in a lot of ways still, but growing less so the longer you know him. He’s got stubble and sun spots and smile lines. And you love each of those things, swearing he’s getting more and more handsome with them every day. Blame it on the lingering moving high but today the feeling triples. 

There’s a unique kind of joy in buying your first home together. It’s perpetual surprise, popping up in the most mundane of moments. It’s picking taupe over eggshell for the living room and it’s paying extra for matching key designs and it’s waking up beside your favorite person on a mattress on the floor. 

You stamp your lips into his skin in good morning, and again because it’s a satisfying warmth on your mouth. He smells sweet, like your new body wash since he couldn’t find his last night. You decide you like the scent on his skin better than yours. 

The quiet is strange but the farthest thing from unwelcome. No neighbors or roommates or parents to wake to. Just the soft hush of rain against the roof and the swish of your ankles underneath the blankets. 

Your fingers chase the hair from Steve’s eye socket, your thumb perching behind his ear. His pupils shift under his eyelids and he sighs the softest little sound you’ve ever heard. 

It’s cruel to wake him, certainly. He did most of the heavy lifting yesterday and was up organizing later than you were. But you’re feeling especially selfish this morning, tickling him awake with a swarm of several more arm kisses. 

There are worse things to wake up to, you reason with yourself as Steve hums, his fingers curling against the sheet. He’s quiet for a long beat and you decide maybe it's better to let him rest. 

But his lips part and he rasps out, “Mornin’.” 

“Mornin’,” you parrot. Your grin is immediate, spanning ear to ear with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. 

He smushes your face to his bare collar, the heel of his free hand climbing up his cheek. 

You turn to watch his eyes unstick themselves of sleep and continue to wonder how you got so lucky. You press another kiss to his chin. Another to the coarse thatch of hair on his chest. Another to his shoulder. You just can’t help yourself today. 

“It’s so quiet,” he murmurs, hand crawling under your shirt in a long splay up your spine. 

You beam, weaving a leg under his heavy one. “I know.” 

“We have a house.” 

“I know.” You sound as excited as you can be without yelling. 

He hums, the corners of his smile creeping wider, a hand steady on your back. 

Your finger twists a curl at his nape idly. “What’re you thinking?” 

Steve’s gaze flickers from the ceiling to you, eyes like old pennies under the clouds coloring your room a gloomy shade of gray. “Nothin’,” he whispers, lips skimming the corner crease of your eye. “Just happy.” 

You hum, one part agreement, two parts delight. “Can we get a dog now?” 

He huffs out a chuckle, vibrating the place where your chests kiss. “I can’t believe it took you this long to ask.” 

“��Cause you always say no.” 

“‘Cause it didn’t make sense before.”

“So, we can?” 

He has a hard time pretending to hate the look you show him. Your jutted lip and raised brows show no mercy. He wants to say yes, of course he does, but he’s not as impulsive as he used to be. He’s a homeowner. His responsibilities extend beyond just himself now. 

“Can we unpack the house first? Then we’ll talk about it.”

You flick his collarbone. “Excuses. Excuses.” 

If there’s a fond way to roll your eyes at someone, he’s figured out how to do it. Steve knows you’re all drama. And he knows you’re over the moon with or without the promise of a dog. 

You bend out of his embrace and regret sitting the second you’re up. Your back aches twice its weight, muscles sore with yesterday's labor. 

But Steve relishes his view. You're in nothing but underwear and one of his shirts, the dip of your lower back exposed where the hem has scrunched up. He might buy you new pajamas if he thought you’d actually wear them or if he didn’t adore just how lovely his clothes look on you. 

And he doesn’t give you a chance to ask, his fingers automatically massaging a path up your aching shoulder. You squirm but you love it. You kiss his hand in thank you and carry it around your waist to play with. 

“Don’t get up,” he says. Pleads, practically.

You face him. “But we have sooo much to unpack.” 

“It can wait,” he argues. He steals your entwined hands for a persuasive set of kisses. One to each knuckle and then a flurry up your arm. And his hands are an equally convincing force, coercing you right back onto his chest. 

You’re putty, melting into his hot hands like candle wax. You throw a leg over his waist and settle down in a more comfortable straddle. The possibility of you falling back asleep jumps an alarming percentage. 

You bolster your chin on his sternum and meet his eyes. “But I really want that dog.” 

“More than me?” 

You hum debatably into his puckered lips.

He smiles hard and forgets about kissing you, pinching your side until you yelp. Your giggles spill through twin smiles, overlapping each other in layers. “Might have to put the house back on the market if you keep being so mean to me," he says.

“I’ll be nicer if we go look at the shelter today.” 

“Mm. Not letting this go are we?” 

You shake your head.

He pecks the corner of your mouth. “We’ll go–”

You see the shift in his expression before he even says anything. Your eyebrows jump in excitement. 

“If,” he tacks on quickly, “we finish downstairs today. Hmm?” 

“Mhmm. Easy.” 

“Easy,” he repeats. But not one lick of him believes you. It wasn’t easy carrying so many of your boxes yesterday and it certainly wasn’t easy getting you to pack everything up in the first place. 

But ultimately he’s amused. And he thinks you’re especially pretty when you’re confident. So Steve kisses you like he has something to prove. 

He gropes the swell of your ass mid-kiss and while it’s not unusual for him to do so playfully, you can’t perceive it in any way innocent when you’re pressed up against his morning wood. 

“Steve,” you scold lightly. 

He hums against your mouth, a faux sound of innocence. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

You break apart with a wet smack. “Gotta unpack.”

“Have all day,” he says, words all smushed together so he can sew his lips right back to yours. 

“Mm-mmm.” You turn your cheek, but the hands on your waist don’t let you go far. “‘S, like, ten-thirty already.” 

He works a slow line past your jaw, spending extra time on the sensitive skin around your throat. Devious. 

“Steve.” 

“Hmm?” 

You push off his chest until you're sitting upright on his thighs.

His heart tick tick ticks under the flat of your palm. His pupils are wide, mouth kiss-bruised a bright shade of red. He’s so, so dreamy, all flushed and starry-eyed like this. He’s got you wrapped around his finger just as much as you’ve strung him with yours.  

You sigh. “Why do I let you win?” 

He smirks that stupid victorious smirk you love so much. “‘Cause you love me.”

“You’re so annoying.” 

“Me?” he laughs. 

“Mhmm. And a hypocrite.” 

The hand clasping your hip pressures you back down, the other cradling one side of your jaw. “A hypocrite?” he whispers. 

“Mhmm.” 

He fills the tiny space between you, half-lidded and heavy-handed in a fervent kiss. He’s not rough but he is eager. Open-mouthed and persistent like he’s trying to weld his face to yours. 

You meet him with the same intensity. It’s instinctual. The push-pull of your bodies, like you’re more one entity than two. You’ve been dating Steve long enough to know what he likes and what he doesn’t. You’ve made out more times than you can count. And he’s a simple man. You’ve got him hard, properly hard, in a matter of minutes. 

His bottom lip is pinned between your teeth, your chests rising and falling in sync. You grind back on his crotch and his breath hitches. 

“Ahh,” he pants. “Can I…” 

You don’t know what he’s trying to ask but you nod anyway. It’s not hard to piece together, though; not when he’s fisting the fabric of your shirt like it’s causing him physical pain to see you wear it. 

You help him hitch it up your back and down your arms to be tossed out of the way. Steve quickly stops you from lying back down. His large palms spread wide against your tummy, thumbs kneading either side of your belly button. He roves up your ribs attentively, studying how your skin pulls and dips beneath his fingers. 

You swear you feel him down to the divots in his fingerprints, the slow speed of his hands tantalizing. 

His thumbs pause at your breastbone, sweeping up and around your nipples as if he’s never played with them before. They perk up easily, to Steve's obvious enjoyment. 

He’s told you a thousand times how pretty you are, naked and not. And he doesn’t have to say it now for you to know he’s thinking it. 

He stares at your chest, your tummy, the soft stretch of your thighs, each like they’ve been carved from marble, destined to end up behind a glass at some museum he’s never been to. 

You get shy eventually, needling past his hold to hide in the slope of his neck. Your mouth peppers lazy kisses where it can reach. Soft ones, not nearly as greedy as before. You work your way up, suckling long enough to leave a couple of red rings in your wake. 

Steve's hips shift under yours as you arrive back at his mouth. He’s getting antsy, the finger fidgeting with the hem of your panties no longer satisfied. So maybe you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are when he holds your hips down and bucks up into your clothed cunt. 

Your jaw slackens, a broken moan dampened against his mouth. 

“Can be loud ‘s you want now,” he assures. His hands roam, around your ass and back up your sides. Soothing, but so feather-light you shudder. 

“Still have neighbors.” 

He hums in half agreement. Yes, you have neighbors, but their bedroom wall isn’t attached to yours. He imagines you’d have to scream bloody murder for the neighbors to hear you here. 

You slink back up to sit and Steve’s fingers fall to your hips. Your pelvis rolls into his. Again when he shudders. 

“Shit,” he sighs. 

“Feel good?”

His eyes disappear behind his lashes, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. “Mhmm.” 

You continue to work him through his briefs, a slow back and forth forming a hot puddle between your own legs. With one hand propped against his sternum, you force your eyes over to the stacks upon stacks of moving boxes in the room. 

“Condoms… condoms.” 

Steve almost misses your mumbling– and to his credit, you’re talking more to yourself than him– but he blinks out of his daze and sighs vaguely at the nearest box. “Fuck. Bathroom, maybe.” 

Not ideal. 

“Think I have one in my purse,” you remember, swaying heavily to the side to scan the floor beside the mattress. 

Steve’s hands fly to your waist to balance you as he huffs. “You mean your bottomless pit?” 

“Don’t shame me. It comes in handy.” The bottomless pit in question is spotted, half buried under yesterday’s clothes across the room. “One sec’.”

Steve grumbles as you climb off of him. But his heart turns in his chest as you saunter off. His love for you is always there. It’s the shape of you as you crouch, how you tip your purse upside down and fan the contents out across the floor with a hum. 

“Aha.” You pop up, waving a glossy, square packet as you skip your way back. “My trusty bottomless pit saves the day.”

You clamber back on top of him clumsily, planting yourself in his lap like he’s no more fragile than the kitchen barstool. 

Steve groans under his breath. You’ve got him really wound up and his patience is thinning. 

Your hips roll into his again, the curve of his cock a strong silhouette through two sticky layers of fabric. You scoot back on his thighs and palm him with modest pressure. 

“Babe,” he shudders, thumbs pawing the sides of your underwear again. “Please.” 

“So impatient,” you tease. 

You watch him intently. How his nostrils flare the second you break the seal between his hot skin and the band of his underwear. How his eyebrows crinkle together as you push the cotton down his thighs. 

His cock bobs free before you take it gently by the base. Steve’s not just a pretty face, and he’s not cocky for no reason. He’s well-endowed, a dusty shade of pink blended tan into the dark curls at his hilt. 

“Fuck, baby.” 

He shifts his gaze past you because he’s certain if you make eye contact with him this’ll be the shortest sex of his life. And even the half-blurry blob of you in his peripherals is still too fucking enticing. He forces his eyes up at the popcorn ceiling and traces the shapes in his mind. 

You spread the pearl of precum down a vein on the side of his cock, using the slip to tug him a handful of times. The slick dissolves, and your hand catches twice before you’re getting ready to spit in it.  

But Steve whines, “Need to feel you.” 

Your hand stops but the pad of your pinky trails a sneaky line from tip to base. “My hands not enough for you, Stevie?” 

“Not gonna– mm– last.” 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” 

You mean it rhetorically but he quickly shakes his head no. You forget how much you enjoy being in charge until you have Steve squirming under you. 

You stabilize yourself on his chest, hiking one leg up at a time until you’re underwear have been flung to the floor. The slick between your folds is more palpable as you sit back on his thighs, hot skin to hot skin. 

His eyelids flutter closed as you roll the condom on. He’s flushed up to his ears, breath nimble off his open mouth. 

“Ready?” 

He nods like you’ve asked something outrageously silly. 

You guide the head of his cock up to your folds, sinking down in one tedious stride. It’s a good kind of ache, scratching the deepest part of your tummy. 

His hips jerk involuntarily as you release your full weight onto them, his nails leaving crescents on your skin. “‘M not gonna last,” he warns again. 

“I’ll go slow.” 

It’s not much consolation. No matter what you do to him, he’s not gonna last. You’re too damn irresistible for your own good. 

You rock your hips forward and back in a continuous cycle. The pace is indulgent, just slow enough to make things last. Your eyes unfocus, your head tipping back. Every drag squeezes the coil in your stomach tighter. 

Steve’s eyes flick to yours, his voice wavering as he mumbles, “Tease me too much.”

“I do?”

“Mhmm.”

You smile softly at him and his eyes jump away. He’s drawing loopy patterns into the meat of your thigh to distract himself. And it doesn’t help when you cover his hand and sweep your thumb across every digit. He’s so focused on not blowing his load that he can’t even speak. 

You pause your rhythm and hum to yourself before continuing. “Know what I just realized.”

“Hmm?”

“Forgot the shower curtain.”

Steve exhales hard, words sticking to his teeth.“We’ll get a new one.” 

“I really liked that one.”

He can’t think straight long enough to tell if you’re purposely trying to distract him or not and he doesn’t care all that much either way. He just needs you to be the same level of fucked that he is. 

His hand trembles over to your pubic bone, thumb snaking right up to your clit. 

You nod as he presses. Right there. 

He rubs slow circles, a spark of pleasure each time he closes a loop. 

“Fuck,” you drawl simultaneously. 

You laugh, blissfully unaware as your muscles clamp around his cock. 

But Steve’s fingers pause on your clit, his other hand tense at your hip. “Don’t,” he shudders out. 

You close your mouth, a soft little apology grin that sends Steve’s stomach flipping. He’s so fucking in love it’s not even funny. 

“Sit on my face.”

You hum, so high on cloud nine you’re sure you’ve misheard him. 

“Let me taste you.”

Your breath stutters. He’s serious. 

“Come here,” he’s pushing you up and off him before you have much of a chance to process it. “Wanna make you feel good.” 

Your cheeks burn a hot shade of embarrassment, your tongue suddenly too heavy in your mouth. You wriggle up his body, guided by the relentless hands on the backs of your thighs. Steve’s eaten you out, but not like this. 

“Steve,” you manage. 

“What?” He knows you better than he’s known anyone in his life. He feels your shaking and he hears the rampant doubts coursing your mind. “I want to,” he promises, pressing a long, love-packed kiss to the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 

You’re unconvinced. You’re certain you’ll break his face the second you sit down. You’ll be so mortified you’ll have to break up with him if he doesn’t first. You’ll have to sell the house before you’ve even unpacked–

“Please?”

He’s not trying to be pushy or even funny as he bats his eyes. He just so genuinely craves to see you unravel in the same way you’ve spun him around. And yeah, he has a sweet set of brown eyes. Sue him. He loves you too much to look at you with any less adoration. 

You nod emphatically. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve been this nervous about sex with Steve, but you’ve learned just about everything there is to know about him since. You trust him in every capacity, especially in bed.   

He nips his way up your thigh, pulling you lower and lower until his breath is hot on your cunt. Steve licks a wide stripe up to your clit, sucking before swirling his tongue around the sensitive hood. And then his mouth starts lapping you like you’re his last meal. 

Your fist jerks, fingers knotted through the hair on his scalp, and he moans. You don’t hear it over the wet smacking as much as you feel it, the vibrations sending pleasure through you like a pulse. 

His tongue drives you to a mess. He’d push you completely over the edge if you didn’t stop him.

“Okay, okay,” you gasp, pushing up onto your knees. “We’re even.” 

He smirks and strokes down the backs of your calves. “Are we competing?” 

“You seem to think so.” 

He shimmies to a sit with an arm around your waist and bestows you with a fleeting kiss, lips washed with the taste of your juices. “Lay down.”

How the fuck could you say no to such a pretty face? 

You scooch down, face up on the sheets. Steve parts you by the ankles and crawls up your body, planting kisses like seeds. His teeth graze the inside of your wrist before he stretches it up and flat against the mattress above your head. 

Your fingers thread through his, his other hand steadying his cock at your entrance. He swipes the head up and down your wet folds before sliding in with a groan. There’s less resistance this time, a fluid in and out to his hips. 

His thrusts are languid. He indulges more closely in the taste of your mouth and the balmy feel of your waist. 

The winding in your tummy resumes, your fingers naturally finding your clit while Steve rocks into you. A heavier thrust and your lips detach, Steve’s rehoming to the skin beneath your jaw. He picks up his pace, puffing and panting into your neck in short bursts. 

Your legs wrap around his, the heel of your foot digging into his lower back. “Mm– Steve.”

“Yeah?” he huffs. 

“Mhmm.”

If the sounds you’re making are anything to go by, Steve thinks he’s doing a pretty good job. And you know he’s just as close to cumming. You know his little sounds and twisty little expressions like the back of your hand. How his stomach tenses and his breath catches. 

You burn the entirety of this to your brain, rubbing yourself faster, more in time with his movements. 

“‘M close,” he says, desperate and hopeful that you are too. 

You nod, focused on the high climbing higher each second. 

His hips stutter when you clench around him. The coil releases and you come undone simultaneously. 

“Fuck, ah– fuck,” he whines, sharp but breathy in your ear.  

Your fingers slow and his thrusts wane and the pleasure softens. Steve wobbles down onto you as gently as he can, taking your interlaced hand between your bodies. Your hearts kiss with each rise and fall of your chests. Steve mouths over the most accessible bit of skin under your ear, thumb sweeping the gentlest curves around your face. 

You exhale into his crown, raking a hand through the dark mop of curls damp at his nape. Your other eases down his back, savoring the contraction of his muscles as he breathes. You travel down the curve of his ass and give him a firm squeeze. “How’s your ass? Still sore?” 

He huffs at you, nose crushed to your neck. “I fall down one flight of stairs and I never hear the end of it.” 

“I told you to be careful.” 

“I was being– whatever.” His thumb continues to caress your jaw, his lips idle on your neck. 

This is Steve’s favorite part of sex. To hold and to be held, easing off a high that’s miles better than a good smoke. There’s nothing greater. 

“Should I check for bruises?” 

“If you kiss ‘em better.” 

Your chest aches with the sweet swell of laughter. Steve’s your person. You realize it time and time again. 

He peels himself off like you're double-sided tape. His hair’s still crazy despite your finger-combing and his eyes are just as heavy as they were when he woke up. He slides out of you with a hiss, sitting back to knot the condom and toss it toward a pile of bubble wrap. 

He looks back at you fondly. “Shower?” 

You shake your head. “Just lay with me.” 

“Downstairs isn’t gonna unpack itself, you know.”

“Shut up.” You palm his chest until he lays and you throw an arm across his middle. “This was your evil plan all along.” 

He chuckles, taking your hand to massage between both of his. “I’m just the worst aren’t I?” 

[zeezanezoo]

Not a thing I don't like omg 🫶

Billy and Steve wearing His & His Too for @gothyringwald!!

[stevesgother]

omg horny blurbs. struggling to take horsedick harrington! ‘its too big baby’

we all know i'm a horsecock steve harrington truther so here ya go anon :)

18 + below the cut

You knew your boyfriend was well endowed, to say the least. A pair of too-tight, blue Levis hates to see Steve Harrington coming. This was your first time seeing it without that pesky denim barrier.

You'd felt it, sure, after three months of heavy petting sessions in the driver's seat of his Chevy. But tonight, things had escalated past the point where the grinding comes to a halt and Steve drives you home like the gentleman he is.

Steve is being anything but a gentleman right now.

Your dress is hiked up past your hips, revealing a pair of baby blue underwear. Not the sexiest pair you owned, but it hardly mattered when Steve started to teasingly slide them down the meat of your thighs.

"You're shaking, honey. Is everything okay?" He asks you so tenderly as he gentle holds your trembling palm in his larger calloused one.

"Yeah-- Yeah, I'm just," a pause, "you're really big." You admit sheepishly.

"We'll go slow, baby, I promise." He reassures you as the hand that's not holding yours strokes the side of your cheek. He kisses you languidly as his thick digits circle your clit tantalizingly slow, "Can I touch you here?"

You nod a little desperately and he hums in acknowledgment. His middle finger breeches your entrance and he curls them inside of you; perfectly bumping your most sensitive spot in a way you've never been able to on your own.

You keen and Steve takes the opportunity to suckle on the spot just below your ear, eliciting a whine from you. You decide you should probably return the favor, even if it's hard to focus on anything except the way Steve is fucking you on his fingers.

His cock is frankly huge. It's not only long but girthy too, with an upward curve. The thought alone of fucking yourself on it makes your mouth water as you wrap a hand around his shaft. He gasps in surprise at the motion, evidently not expecting it. You run a thumb over his leaking, red slit and he groans your name.

"Want you to fuck me, Steve," you whisper against his lips as he begins to kiss you again.

"You're sure?"

You nod fervently and that's all the confirmation he needs to line his head up with your sopping heat. His hands find your hips, lifting you and then slowly lowering you back down until you're able to take him to the hilt.

It's a big stretch. Any partner you might've had in the past could've never prepared you for the sheer size of Steve. It burns deliciously as you're being sheathed with him, but it quickly becomes overwhelming.

"You're too big, baby, I can't"

"Shh," he shushes as he pulls you flush to his chest in a strong embrace, "yes you can, sweetheart, I've got ya'"

Once you're fully seated on him, it's as if you were made to fit. The thatch of hair on his pubic bone provides the perfect amount of stimulation on your throbbing clit as you begin to ride him.

"God-- you're so tight, fuck," he's already panting and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a bit of an ego boost.

His words give you the confidence to bounce on him a bit faster. You can feel him in your stomach, practically rearranging your guts. Every time you sink back down, his ruddy head hits that perfect spot inside you, sending you hurtling towards your orgasm embarrassingly fast.

"Good girl," he groans, "keep bouncing on my cock, baby, that's it."

Whereas before you were more reserved in how vocal you were during sex, now you're crying out without restraint; chanting Steve's name like a prayer.

When he feels himself becoming close, he swiftly moves a thumb to play with your sensitive button-- needing to get you off before himself at least once. His own personal rule.

"Oh! Yeah, Steve-- don't stop, don't stop--" you're all but shouting now.

"I won't, baby, I won't--" he assures, "that's the spot, huh? Can feel you squeezin' me-- ah!"

You come with a cry of his name, your hands tangled in his chestnut hair, giving Steve the greenlight to let himself finish. Both hands grab you abruptly to life your hips enough for him to pull out.

With a few more quick strokes of his cock he's coming with his head thrown back and several heady grunts. You lean forward to kiss and nip at the constellation of beauty marks along his stubbly neck. They're one of the first things you'd noticed about him when you met.

"Was that good for you?" He pants as he comes back down to Earth with you.

You stroke the side of his face with your hand, pushing the damp hairs that stick to his forehead away before kissing the spot where they had been, "That was amazing, Stevie."

He gives you a short peck to your plush and waiting lips before once again pulling you in. You stay just like that, flesh to flesh, and count the stars until the sun rises again to replace the moon.

[steveseddie]

come sleep with me

written for @steddielovemonth day 14 “come sleep with me: we won’t make love, love will make us” | the @steddiebingo kissing booth mini event, prompt: mutual pining | the @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: love

rating: t | wc: 915 | no cw | tags: friends with benefits, mutual pining, idiots in love

read on ao3

Any other day Eddie would be thrilled to have Steve like this– half-naked under him, flushed and squirming from Eddie kissing all over his chest. 

Part of him sure is interested, but the rest knows that when Steve called earlier and asked him to come over, he probably should’ve said no. 

But if there’s something Eddie isn’t good at, it’s telling Steve no. 

Otherwise, how would he end up hooking up with Steve on the regular while knowing fully well that he was setting himself up for heartbreak?

So Eddie said yes, and he came over despite being physically and mentally exhausted from an entire week of awful nightmares. He thinks he’s doing a decent job at shoving it all away to pay attention to Steve. That is until he feels Steve’s hand grab hold of his neck and use it to pull him up so he can look at his face and ask– “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

Eddie shakes his head, his hair falling around them. “Nothing,” he lies. Badly if the way Steve arches an eyebrow at him means anything. Eddie heaves out a sigh. “I– I haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve had nightmares all week. I’m so tired and there’s just so much in my head right now–”

Of course, Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to act mad or disappointed but he’s still surprised by how gently he brushes Eddie’s hair off of his face, his eyes soft as he stares up at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Eddie lets out a snort. “Yeah because telling the guy you’re making out with that you can’t stop thinking about demobats ripping into your flesh is such a turn-on,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Tugging at Eddie’s hair, Steve half-heartedly rolls his eyes. “I meant earlier, Eds.” 

“I guess I was hoping that this was what I needed,” Eddie admits, shrugging. 

“What you need is sleep.”

Eddie sighs. “Yeah, I know.”

When Steve gently shoves Eddie off of him, he takes that as his cue to leave. Especially when Steve walks over to his closet and puts on some sweatpants. Now that he knows nothing is happening between them tonight, it makes sense that Steve is getting ready for bed.  

Which means Eddie should probably get out of his way. 

He just found his jeans and is about to put them back on when Steve tosses something at him. It lands at his feet– a pair of sweatpants.  

“Do you need a shirt too or are you sleeping shirtless?” Steve asks, still rummaging through his closet. 

Eddie stares blankly at his naked back. “Um, what?” 

“Do you want to borrow a shirt?” He asks, glancing at Eddie over his shoulder. His lips tug up into a smirk when he adds, “I have a Tears for Fears shirt you’d look great in, I think.” 

Eddie takes too long to think of a comeback and Steve frowns, probably expecting him to jump at the thought of wearing a shirt of a band that plays anything other than heavy metal. And he would, if he wasn’t busy trying to wrap his head around the fact that Steve seems to think he’s staying over. 

He’s never done that even after they started hooking up. 

Steve’s eyes dart to the jeans Eddie is holding in his hand. “You weren’t planning on sleeping in those, were you?” He asks with a chuckle. 

“No, I– I was gonna go home.”

Steve’s mouth twists downward. “Why?” 

Because they don’t sleep together. They have sex and then Eddie leaves. It hurts every time, but he knows it would hurt more if he stayed and woke up next to Steve –or, god forbid, in Steve’s arms– only for it not to mean anything to him.

“I– we never– we don’t do that–”

“I know,” Steve says, sucking his lip between his teeth. “But what– what if I want us to do that?” 

Eddie blinks. “Sleep together?” 

“No, yeah,” Steve rubs a hand against his neck, “but also, um– other things.” 

Eddie’s breath hitches. “Like?”

“Like going on dates and cuddling and holding hands, maybe not in public but like, in front of our friends if you’re okay with that and–”

“Steve, Stevie, are you– are you saying you want to date me?” Eddie asks, his voice an octave higher, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest.

“Yeah,” Steve softly admits and Eddie can’t help but gasp. “But I– I promise I didn’t feel this way when we started this, and I was going to say something to you, but I was nervous that you didn’t–”

“I did! I do! Feel that way. Since before we started this, even. If anyone should’ve said anything, it’s me,” Eddie stammers out. “I thought I was setting myself up for heartbreak when you eventually found someone else and stopped wanting me–”

“I wouldn’t, I won’t. In fact,” Steve says, starting to smile. He moves closer to Eddie, one of his hands brushing against his fingers. “I’m crazy about you, Eds.”

“Jesus, Steve,” Eddie mutters, and then he’s cupping Steve’s face and bringing him closer so he can kiss him squarely on the lips. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed, but it’s definitely different.

“So,” Steve starts, pulling back only enough to get the words out. “Is that a yes?” 

“To dating you?” Eddie asks, their lips brushing together. Steve nods. 

And well, Eddie still can’t say no to Steve, so he says–

“Yes.”

[thefreakandthehair]

“You— you walked here in a blizzard to spend Valentine’s Day with me?” Steve finally asks, his voice hesitant in a way that Eddie kind of hates. It shouldn’t be that shocking that someone wants to spend Valentine’s Day with Steve Harrington, even if it’s Eddie Munson. That’s probably why he says what he says next. 

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Uh, anyone else, apparently. It’s just us here, Ed.” Steve huffs a laugh through his nose and turns his smile to Eddie. 

It’s blinding, and it’s hypnotizing, and Eddie’s fucking helpless. 

“Good. It’s not exactly what I had planned, but—”

“Planned?” Steve questions, tilting his head. “You had plans?” 

Eddie scoffs, placing his free palm against his own chest. 

“You wound me, Harrington. Of course I did. I might’ve forgotten to account for the fact that snow is wet, but I did make reservations at Geno’s, and I got you something a little lame for the occasion. I was gonna get the back corner table and everything, give you the whole experience.” 

“Wait, wait, wait. You…” Steve blinks a few times in rapid succession and Eddie’s heart beats against his sternum. “You had all of that—? But— I thought we were just gonna like, drink beer and watch movies. You hate Valentine’s Day. We went to high school together. I heard the lunch table speeches, dude.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t.”

↳read the rest of if I go there (I'm going there for you) here on ao3! [2.4k, rated m]

happy valentine's day, @oriscribes!! and thank you to @nostalgicbones for organizing the exchange!! you rock!!

[jo-harrington]

Antiquing v. Thrifting (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: You have a little booth at the local antique market and the owner of the neighboring booth tends to get on your nerves.

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Slight enemies to lovers, meet cute, misunderstandings, fluff, banter

Note: This is a late birthday gift to one of my fandom loves who has become an amazing friend IRL too. @bettyfrommars. Betty thank you for being one of my weirdo soulmates, loving old gameshows, wishing we could live in a mid century modern house with all of the original fun appliances. You are one of my favorite people and since I can't send you my bowling ball (one day) I've written this for you. Love you.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

--

There was not much to drive you to want to murder someone. In fact, you would say that you were probably one of the most easygoing people you knew. And you knew plenty of people.

But the person at the receiving end of your ire, and the target of your bloodlust, was one of the most inconsiderate assholes you knew.

Actually, you didn’t even know who it was.

You’d been one of the vendors at The Little Traveler's Antique Market for years. You had a booth along the back wall, acquired when you realized your love of vintage Pyrex was getting a little too overzealous for your shoebox-cum-condo. Besides, the thrill of the hunt was the real thing that you enjoyed: estate sales and rummage sales and thrift stores were filled with treasures just waiting for you to find.

So a few shelves of Gooseberry and Butterprint went up, and eventually it turned into a haven for all sorts of vintage pieces. It was a shrine to your whims, rather than any real desire to find monetary value. Of course, people seemed to flock to it, so the cash you made from it was nice..but that was neither here nor there.

It was something you were good at, and something you loved. You'd met some very interesting people--and some of your closest friends--because of it. Heard the best stories.

Unfortunately, you'd also met some of the most insufferable people because of it too. Or rather, in this case, one insufferable person you pointedly had not met.

It had started when a bunch of Royal Doulton character mugs showed up in your space. And they weren't terrible, but they just weren't yours. Your hand-picked selection of Hazel Atlas glasses had been carelessly shoved to the side on a vintage mahogany sideboard you'd painstakingly hauled in, and in their place were Paddy and Toby and George Fucking Washington, all staring goofily up at you.

Ok, so maybe the Anne Boleyn one wasn't bad.

It was the principle of it. There were unspoken rules in an Antique Market. You just didn't encroach on someone else's space.

You painted the kindest smile you could manage--which, in all honesty, probably looked more like you were baring your teeth--and headed up to the front to confront the manager of the market.

"Margie," you began with a saccharine tone. You set the Anne Boelyn mug down on the counter. "May I kindly ask who Seller 86 is?"

"Oh, that's our new guy," she laughed, oblivious. "Ed. Great guy. He's got some fun stuff."

"Yeah, real fun."

"We did a little shuffle over the weekend," she continued, diving into one of her rambling midwest-isms. "Jim wanted to downsize, which opened a bigger space for Michelle to move into. One thing led to another, and I put Ed in Chelle's old space, next to yours. Hope you don't mind."

What could you say except a cordial of course not? Even as you were left to grumble and mope back to your booth to move all of the Royal Doulton back to Ed's new space. You set them out on a folding table he had in the corner, very nice and neat, which was your standard.

You might have also left a little, tiny, friendly, scathing note.

No big deal.

And you wouldn't lie, you snooped a little.

Come on, everyone else would, too. It was just...shopping. Not snooping.

You couldn't judge the wild array of things he had for sale; much like you, it seemed that everything in Ed's booth was suited to his tastes, because there was just a vibe of "who in their right mind would put some of this shit together." Little taxidermy animals playing poker, postcards from the most random places, vintage beer and coffee cans that, though empty, looked as new as the day they were bought. Garfield and Snoopy memorabilia. And mugs...so many mugs, as far as the eye could see.

It was charming, you could admit that, as long as it all stayed on his side of the vaguely-defined boundary between your booths.

Unfortunately, it did not.

It was never anything major but it was enough to annoy you. Books left out on a table, vinyl records in a crate in a corner, gaudy biker costume jewelry thrown in one of your mixing bowls. Each time you went to restock your booth, you'd have to find whatever treasures he left behind and return them, along with another note.

It was like finding the secret little corner where your cat pissed because they were mad at you. Admittedly, this might've been worse because you were proud. So very proud of your booth. It was a snapshot of you, after all. But that was sullied by little pieces of Ed, a guy you didn't even know, who seemed to enjoy pissing strangers off.

Every week, he metaphorically photobombed your snapshot at the last second and your perfect polaroid had bunny ears.

Or a crude gesture.

Or sometimes even his whole, bare ass.

And you were simply not vindictive enough to do anything about it.

It just wasn't worth the trouble to actually return the favor to him, or better yet, get him kicked from the market altogether. What if his little booth was his livelihood? What if this was how he made ends meet? Your pride wasn't worth ruining something for someone else.

Yes. You were a pushover.

You, surprisingly, got a reprieve for a few weeks.

Each time you'd gone to restock your booth with fun new treasures, there were no hidden trinkets waiting for you. Actually, Ed's booth didn't even look like it had been restocked or touched at all. There were holes in his displays where his wares had been purchased but not replenished. Was he on vacation? Maybe he was under the weather.

You took it upon yourself to spend a few minutes shuffling his mugs like a good neighbor would.

It was a disappointment relief.

Why wouldn't it be a relief? It wasn't like you'd started looking forward to what and where you'd find Ed's little surprises. It wasn't the thrill you'd get when the adrenaline spiked with your anger.

No, not at all.

"What's got you so pouty?" Margie asked as you trudged through the doors about three weeks after Ed's initial disappearance. "Did Dunkin get your coffee wrong again? That's how I know my morning is gonna be shitty."

"Must've woken up on the wrong side of the bed," you gave a weak excuse and headed towards your booth.

You were juggling an armful of tote bags and your coat, so you didn't notice the stranger standing in your space as you approached, until they turned around and spotted you.

"Oh, hey, lemme help you with that," came the rasp of a friendly voice as you rounded the corner. You looked up, surprised, as a set of hands hoisted the heaviest of your tote bags from your grasp.

He was like a relic, frozen in time. In a good way, though, like a well-kept polaroid from the 80s. Faded band tee, bootcut blue jeans, leather jacket that looked butter-soft from eons of wear. His hair was on the longer side and tied back; salt-and-pepper streaks proudly confirmed his personal antique status, along with the crows feet surrounding his deep, warm brown eyes.

He was a gentleman...and he was cute.

You felt like an idiot as your eyes slid down to his left hand on instinct. But there was no ring, so that self-loathing feeling disappeared. Well, no wedding ring, actually. He had a gunmetal band on his pointer finger, and a silver signet ring on his pinky.

Time returned to its appropriate speed as he hauled the tote onto your folding table just a few feet away.

"Jesus, what've you got in here? Bricks?" he laughed. "Are you trying to put Home Depot out of business?"

"Uh..." You floundered for words. "P-pewter tea pots. One of my regulars is getting married. Asked me to keep an eye out for them for her centerpieces."

"Never seen that at a wedding before."

"How many weddings have you been to?" You questioned.

"Well, my buddy Gareth alone has gotten married 3 times." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his hip against your sideboard. "So I think I've got a pretty good chance that I've seen it all.

"Is there anything I can help you find today?" you asked, laying your best customer service voice on thickly. You busied yourself with unpacking your bags so you wouldn't have to look at the charming, crooked smile that settled on his mouth. "Was there anything that caught your eye before my hopeless self stumbled over here?"

"Ah," he pushed off the sideboard and tilted his head up so he could scratch along the length of his neck. "I, uh, was looking at your cookie jars, actually."

"Oh yeah?" You looked up at that and glanced over to the hutch in the corner that held an array of Pillsbury doughboys in various, charming poses. "Can I tell you a secret? I used to hate watching commercials with Poppin' Fresh. That claymation was frightening. I think he's pretty cute now, though."

You abandoned your unpacking and approached the hutch to try and figure which cookie jar he'd been intrigued by. You picked up a jar that had its lid askew and were about to ask if he wanted you to bring it up to the counter for him, when you lifted the lid and looked inside.

And found a rubber-banded stack of Metallica cassettes carefully nestled inside.

You felt your face get hot as you stared at the track listing and colorful cover art of Ride the Lightning. Coincidentally the same album that was on this newcomer's t-shirt.

"So," you huffed and slammed the lid on the cookie jar, careless of any damage it might cause. "You're Ed, huh?"

He chuckled behind you, "Eddie, actually. I prefer to go by Eddie. But yeah, that's me." You pivoted on your heel and glared at him; he faltered under your burning gaze. "Nice to, uh, meet you. Neighbor."

And with that, you let him have it.

You might've blacked out at some point during the absolute barrage of a verbal dressing down you gave him. How dare he not respect the etiquette of the market and stay within the confines of his allotted space, how dare he waste your time week after week as simply minded your own business and sold your trinkets, and how dare he ignore every single note that you left behind.

The fucker had the audacity to look amused with every word that fell from your lips.

In the end, you stood there, huffing and puffing as you caught your breath and felt several months of anger finally extinguish.

"You done there, killer?" Eddie asked with a smirk. "You feel better?"

"Yeah," you shouted one last time, then lowered your voice. "Yes I do."

"Alright, good." He nodded. "Gotta get it out sometimes, otherwise you might get an ulcer. Or develop alcoholism."

"Might be close to both, to be honest," you muttered.

"Shit, then I'm extra, extra sorry that I put you through all of that, sweetheart." He laid a hand over his heart. "This is my first rodeo selling in a place like this, I didn't realize that everyone was so...territorial."

"Yeah, well. Most of the time I'm not." Lies. You were a liar. "I think the thing that pissed me off more is that I kept leaving notes for you and you kept ignoring them and messing with my shit."

Eddie looked bashful all of a sudden. "Oh shit. See I thought you were just flirting with me."

Talk about a record-scratch moment; what...what had he just said?

"Flirting?" you asked.

"I mean, yeah, not to sound cocky either because I was definitely flirting right back at you. What do they call it in the movies? A...meet cute moment? I thought it was fun. You leave me a sarcastic, threatening note, and I leave you a little treasure hunt to solve. Like a...fucked up version of You've Got Mail."

"That's nothing like You've Got Mail," you pointed out.

There was a beat.

"I think this is a really good time to mention that I fell asleep halfway through You've Got Mail," he explained with a laugh. "Regardless, I read things wrong. That's on me. But I'm sorry. I'll never do it again."

He held his hand out to you and his brows shifted upwards and behind his dated bangs.

You worried at your bottom lip for a moment and tried to claw at the vestiges of your anger for a second, but this guy...he looked like such a kicked puppy...and you suppose that it was a cute way to flirt with someone you'd never met.

God, you really needed to work on that pushover thing.

"It's alright," you told him as you slid your hand into his and accepted his apology. "As long as you don't do it again."

"Cross my heart," he nodded enthusiastically.

You introduced yourself, formally, and offered your help in the future if he needed it. He introduced himself and told you that he would appreciate any pointers that you had to give.

"I'm pretty new to this whole...thrift thing," he shrugged. "I've had a bunch of this stuff in storage for a while. I used to move around a lot, you accumulate a lot of junk. And then my uncle...some of this stuff is his. Was his. He passed away last year. Finally decided I couldn't keep hoarding it all anymore. Turns out, I had a lot more shit than I thought I did."

"Story of my life," you laughed and offered your condolences. "It's hard, deciding what to keep and what to get rid of."

"Tell me about it."

"But, I do have one main lesson for you," you offered.

"Oh yeah?" he smirked. "Already? Just when I thought I couldn't fuck it up any more."

"It's an Antique Market," you told him. "Not a Thrift Store."

"There's a difference?" Eddie asked sarcastically, although a blush bloomed on his cheeks. "Guess the learning curve is much steeper than I thought."

"It's alright. You'll get it sooner or later." You smiled at him, trying to be as friendly and supportive as you could.

He stared at you for maybe a few seconds too long, then shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked forwards on his heels.

"Maybe you could explain it to me, in-depth?" he questioned. "Antiquing, thrifting, whatever."

"Of course," you agreed, but he cut you off before you could say anything else.

"Over lunch?" He asked with a nervous smile. "There's a great diner up the road. And I figure I owe you one for all the anguish I put you through anyway."

You stared at him in shock for a second, wondering how to respond. First there was the comment about the flirting...and now this. What if he was a creep? But he didn't seem like as much of a jackass as you thought he was...and he was cute.

Oh, what the hell.

"You know what? Why not? I'm a girl who loves a free patty melt," you winked at him bravely. "It's a date!"

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

perfectly imperfect.

summary: steve harrington comes into your campus workplace and flirts with you every chance he gets. after months of turning him down, you finally give in and decide to give him a try. after all, he’s the hottest ticket on campus among the girls, so there has to be something to it. right? 

word count: 3.5k

warnings/notes: smut, breast play, oral sex (brief; f receiving), grinding, handjob, premature ejaculation, catching feelings 

a/n: this is a college au with steve, based on a dream i had! i’m thinking he’s probably right around the age he was in season 4, so that would make him around 19-20 in this fic. as always, reader is 18+ and sorry if anything like this has been done before! i don’t have time to read fic much anymore, so i don’t know what is out there. i hope y’all enjoy!

also shoutout to my bestie @andvys for suggesting I write this dream as a one shot! ily and thank you for everything 🥺

_____

“what would you recommend, babe?”

you had to suppress an eye roll at the nickname. it was nothing new with steve harrington; every time he walked into the cafe where you worked, it was always the same old song and dance. he would walk in, smile at you, flirt, ask what you recommended, and would eat or drink it while sneaking the occasional glance at you. he was a blessing and a curse that you just couldn’t escape, not even outside of work. you had two classes with him–World History and Foundations Mathematics–and he would try to chat you up then, too. you knew his reputation around campus wasn’t a very good one; he was quite the player, apparently. you overheard girls talking about him at work and in class, talking about the time they had with him and how he never called or spoke much to them when he was done. you weren’t about that sort of life, but you had to admit you were growing curious about him. he had to be good if he was getting around and getting a reputation; the girls never said he was terrible. in fact, the opposite was true. you had been on many dates since you started going to college two years ago, but nothing ever stuck. you were mostly having flings yourself, but at least you let those down easily and didn’t just leave them hanging like he did. 

“i recommend what i always do every time you come in here,” you said. “the scones are good today; get one of those.”

“i think i have an appetite for something else,” he said, eyeing you up and down. “i think i want to experience something a little sweeter.”

“you think you’re really smooth, don’t you?” you asked, chuckling. “do you realize how many guys come in with the same line every day?”

“damn, i’ve got competition?” he asked, shaking his head. “here i thought i was special.”

“oh, you’re special, all right,” you said, grabbing a scone and putting it on a paper plate. “i don’t think you realize just how special you are.”

“well, that’s a relief,” steve said, digging in his pockets for money. “i really wish you’d go out with me, though.”

“why?” you asked. “so you could fuck me and leave me, like you do all the rest?”

he shook his head. “no, it would be different with you. you’re different.”

you laughed, shaking your own head. “how many women have you used that line on?”

“come on, harrington,” someone said from behind him. “i want my coffee.”

“just a minute,” he said, leaning in close to you. “one date. we don’t even have to have sex, if that isn’t what you want. just give me a chance.”

you eyed the line behind him, and knew there was no getting out of it this time. he wasn’t going to let up until you gave in, apparently. you sighed, rolling your eyes before meeting his. “fine. one date and i’m calling the shots.”

“thank you,” he said. “that’s all i wanted.”

“yeah, i’m sure,” you said. “it’s two dollars for the scone.”

he handed you two one dollar bills and a ten. “a little tip for you, babe.”

you went to hand it back, but he was already gone, the line moving forward as you were forced to be professional yet again.

****

the night of the date came faster than you wanted. he had pestered you about it every day in class and at work, until you finally set it for the following friday night. you were off work and didn’t have many classes that day, so you thought it would be perfect. it would give you a chance to get ready, to prepare yourself, and to brace for what might happen. you’d been giving it a lot of thought since he’d asked, and you decided that maybe you wanted to sleep with him, after all. you would see how the date went first, of course, but you had no reason to expect that it would be bad. steve seemed like a decent enough guy; he was just a playboy. most men his age were, though, especially college frat boys, so you didn’t know what else you honestly expected. 

you spent most of the afternoon working on yourself, and when the date finally came, he came to your room to pick you up. he couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful you looked, and you had to admit that he looked handsome, too. he was wearing a light blue button-up shirt that was done up to just below his neck, showing off a spray of chest hair underneath and accenting his muscular arms. he wore blue jeans that were nice and not torn, brown dress shoes, and his hair was done up in its usual fashion. he looked damn good; even you had to admit that. you followed him as he walked, and he offered you his arm after a little bit. you took it, feeling your heart flutter as you did so. you had already decided, upon seeing him, that you were going to sleep with him. you couldn’t wait to break the news to him at the end of the night.

he took you to a nice restaurant just off campus, an classy little italian place that served the best food. you’d been there a few times, but never on a date. steve paid for everything, and when you were both walking back to campus, you decided to spring the news on him. you stopped walking and he did, too, giving you a puzzled look. you just smiled at him, hugging yourself for a moment before walking over and standing directly in front of him.

“so i made a decision,” you said. “one that i think you’re going to like.”

“what decision is that?” he asked.

“i think i wanna sleep with you tonight,” you said. “if you’re up for it, i mean.”

“i’m always up for that,” he said with a chuckle. “but why the sudden change of heart? you seemed pretty adamant to not sleep with me before now.”

you shrugged. “i guess i couldn’t live with myself if i passed up on steve harrington.”

he laughed. “well, i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i passed up the most beautiful girl on campus, either.”

your cheeks heated at that, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze. “so…it’s on, then?”

“it’s on,” he said. “where should we go? my roommate is out with his girlfriend tonight, so my room might be the best bet.”

“okay,” you said. “let’s go there, then.” 

he walked you to his dorm building and up to his room, which was, in fact, empty. it was a little messy, with clothes strewn about the floor, fast food wrappers on the desks, beer bottles hidden not-so-skillfully under the two beds, and posters of half-naked women adorning the walls. you had to resist rolling your eyes for the millionth time; it was such a typical guy room that it was almost hilarious. steve walked over to the bed on the right, sitting down and gesturing for you to do the same. he kicked off his shoes and you did the same, taking a seat next to him as he turned to face you.

“is it bad that i’m a little nervous?” he asked.

you looked at him, shocked. “you, nervous? why would you be nervous?”

he shrugged. “i don’t know. i guess because i’m not used to being with a beautiful woman like you.”

“yeah, and how many girls have heard that?”

“come on, i’m being serious.”

“so am i.”

“i’ve never really used that on someone. you’re the first.”

“wow, i feel special.”

he put one finger under your chin, tilting your head toward him. “you are special, though. at least you are to me.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said. “are we doing this or not?”

“yeah,” he said, drawing you in closer. “come here.”

he put his lips to yours, kissing you gently at first. it stayed like that for a little bit, his lips working softly against yours as you followed his lead. soon, though, he was kissing you a little harder, his tongue pressing between your lips as they met. he mewled softly, grabbing your hips and pulling you into his lap. you straddled him, cupping his face as he kissed you more heavily. you whined, kissing him deeper as he began bucking his hips into yours. you picked up on his cue, grinding against him as you continued to make out. he groaned, grabbing your ass and guiding your movements. you moaned as well, continuing to move on him as he kissed you harder.

“fuck,” he said against your lips. “that feels so good.”

“you’re already getting hard,” you observed. “i can feel it.”

“i can’t help it,” he said. “you just have that effect on me.”

“oh yeah?” you asked, smirking at him as you leaned down to kiss his neck. “well, i feel pretty flattered, then.”

“i really wanna get your clothes off,” he said, tilting his head back to give you more room. “can i?”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “not yet. i wanna keep doing this for a little bit first.”

“you’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” he asked with a groan. 

you nodded. “that’s right.”

“you’re such a tease,” he said. “but that’s okay, i like it.”

“oh you do, huh?” you asked, toying with the buttons on his shirt.

“hey, i thought you said we had to wait.”

“i said you had to wait. i didn’t say anything about me.”

“that hardly seems fair.”

“i’m the one calling the shots here tonight, remember?”

that quieted him, and he mumbled a word of permission. you giggled, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing him back on the bed. you started kissing down the middle of his chest, down his stomach to the top of his jeans, and then slowly back up. his breathing was slightly heavier as you worked on him, and he drew you in for a passionate kiss as you came back up. he pulled you on top of him again, where you resumed grinding him for the moment. his hands squeezed your ass, kneading the flesh there as you rocked against him. you whined, moving a little faster as he gasped against your lips.

“you’re gonna make me cum already if you keep doing that,” he said. “please, can i take your clothes off?”

you giggled, nodding. “fine. but not the bra or the panties yet.”

he eagerly removed your shirt and pants, discarding them to the floor with the rest of the clothes. he studied your body with hungry eyes, his pupils enlarging as he took in every detail. you couldn’t help but flush under his gaze, your cheeks hot as he studied you. you pushed him back down, kissing him hungrily, your hips moving again as he slapped your ass. you laughed against his lips and you could feel him smiling, so you kept going. after a minute, steve’s hands found the back of your bra, playing with the clasp. you smiled, knowing that you’d tormented him enough, and you drew back to grin at him.

“you can take it off now,” you said.

“i can?” he asked.

“yep,” you said. “go ahead.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he practically ripped the garments from your body, taking in every detail of your body as he did so. he licked his lips as he studied you, his eyes moving from head to toe and back again. your cheeks turned hot under his gaze, and you reached out to pull him closer. he went easily, his body pressed flush to yours as you chuckled.

“I think it’s your turn now,” you said. “it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

he nodded, hastily doing away with his clothes. as he did to you, you observed him from top to bottom, your eyes remaining glued on his cock. he was bigger than you expected, with good girth and even better length. a large vein ran up the underside, and his tip was pink and already oozing precum. you reached out to stroke him, and his lashes fluttered as he moaned under your touch. he looked at you with heavy eyes, his lips parted as his cheeks began to flush. you smirked at him, flicking your wrist as his body jerked slightly.

“who has the power now, huh?” you asked.

“you do,” he said, rutting into your hand. “god..”

“you know what I want you to do?” you asked.

“anything,” he said. “i’ll do anything you want.”

“i want you to eat me out,” you said.

“can i?” he asked. “please?”

“mmm hmm,” you said. “go ahead.”

steve turned you over so that you were lying flat on his bed. he kissed your neck, stopping at your breasts to give them some attention. he kissed over each one, sucking one nipple feverishly as he rubbed the other with his fingers. you moaned softly, grabbing his hair and giving it a slight tug as he, too, moaned. you giggled, running your fingers through his hair as he continued to work. he shivered, his eyes trailing up to look at you as he sucked your nipple a bit harder. you arched your back, bucking your hips impatiently as he trailed one hand down your body. he ran his fingers over your clit, barely ghosting it as you gasped. he smirked against your skin, his fingers ghosting your folds next. you wanted to slap him for being such a tease, but it felt so good that you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

“you’re so hot,” he said, his hands coming up to squeeze your breasts. he moaned as he watched your nipples harden even more, his thumbs circling them. “the hottest girl i’ve ever seen.”

“oh yeah?” you asked, whining as he started kissing his way down your body. “am i hotter than all those other girls you’ve been with, or did you use that line on them, too?”

“no, just you,” he said, winking up at you as he knelt between your legs. “i swear it’s just you. i told you, you’re different.”

you wanted to roll your eyes, but you didn’t. you were curious as to what he would be like, and now wasn’t the time to offend him or piss him off. you would take him at his word for now; it’s all you could do. you watched as he kissed your inner thighs, painfully slow, and as he kissed around your mound, also painfully slow. he was kissing anywhere and everywhere but where you really wanted him, and you almost pushed his head there. but you didn’t want to do that, so you waited, letting him get it out of his system. he did it again, a little faster, and then finally he was right where you wanted him.

his mouth felt like heaven, and it was a feeling that you’d never felt before with anyone else. his tongue was like velvet, wet and soft and perfect. he lapped at your folds lazily, using the tip of his tongue at first to tease you further. you moaned, sitting up on your elbows to watch him as he looked up at you. he groaned as he pressed his full tongue against you, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit and then back down. he did the same motion a few times, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. you arched, falling back on the bed and writhing as he sucked harder.

‘steve…” you moaned. “that feels so good.”

“oh yeah?” he asked, and you could feel him smirking against you. “you think it feels pretty good, huh?”

“yeah,” you said. “you’re good at this.”

his smirk widened, and soon he was fucking you on his tongue. he replaced that with his fingers after a few minutes, paying attention to your clit as he sucked again. his tongue swirled the small bud, moaning against it to add vibration. you gasped and bucked your hips, feeling the tightness beginning to settle in your lower stomach. you didn’t think you’d be so close already, but it had been awhile since you’d gotten off–with yourself or with anyone else. you were pent up, and it was about to come to a head very soon.

“i’m close already,” you told him. “please keep going.”

“already, huh?” he asked, grinning up at you.

“don’t flatter yourself,” you said. “it’s just been awhile.”

“sure,” he said, winking at you. “i’ll take your word for it.”

he kept going, fucking you harder on his fingers and sucking your clit harder. he shook his head back and forth, his eyes on you as he kept going. it only took a few more minutes before you were falling apart, cumming hard as you cried out his name. he kept going as you experienced your high, going slower and more gentle, watching as you arched your back, writhed, and tugged at his hair. he moaned, stopping once you came down from your high. he sat back and looked at you, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was proud of himself for what he’d just done.

“that’s a first,” he said. “usually i have to go for twenty minutes.”

“you poor thing,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “how ever will you survive?”

he chuckled, kissing his way back up your body. “you’re so sassy. i love it.”

“come here,” you said. “i wanna pretend to ride you.”

“pretend?” steve asked. “why not do it?”

“because i wanna make you work for it, that’s why,” you said, smirking at him. 

“but i’m about to burst already,” he nearly whined.

“now who’s the one who might cum too soon?” you teased. “come here.”

he lay back on the bed, tucking his arms behind his head. “okay, babe. i’m here. do whatever you want to me.”

you straddled him, positioning yourself over his erection. you began to grind against it, moaning at the heavy, throbbing feeling of him against you. he hissed, his hands coming out to grab at your hips. you kept going, gliding along him at a steady pace as he looked up at you. he leaned up after a few minutes and started sucking at your nipples, lying back against the pillows and pulling you with him after a moment. you moaned, biting your lip as you started moving a little faster.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he said, and you could tell that he was right. he was twitching, his cock throbbing against you as you continued to glide. “please.”

you giggled, getting off of him and taking his cock into your hand. “tell me what you want.”

“I—“ he began, but it was soon over. he came all over your hand, his body in spasms as he bucked into your hand. he squeezed his eyes shut, digging the heels of his hands into them as he came down from his high. “fuck, I knew that was gonna happen.”

you chuckled, holding your hand up to your mouth. “look at me, steve.”

he did so, looking at you with heavy eyes. you started licking the cum off of your hand, making eye contact with him as you did so. he moaned as he watched, and pulled you down for a kiss after you were done. you lay next to him, snuggling against him as he held you close. it was silent, save for steve’s heavy breathing, and you opened your mouth to say something. he beat you to it.

“wow,” he said. “i never…that’s never happened to me before.”

“no?” you asked. “never? not once?”

“no,” he said, shaking his head. “i think it’s because i like you so much.”

you looked up at him. “you do?”

“I do,” he said. “you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met before, y/n. i think I wanna keep you.”

you smile at him, leaning up to kiss him. “you wanna know something?”

“what?” he asked, brushing some hair out of your eyes.

you kissed him again, a bit more passionately. “I think i wanna keep you, too.” 

—

taglist: @andvys @littledemondani @etherealxwitch @eddieschains @happylilthought @trashmouth-richie @eiightysixbaby @thisbrokencapulet @sunkillerencoder @thatredlipped-classic

[withacapitalp]

Stuff Me, Hug Me, Take Me Home

@stevesbipanic B HAPPY VALENTINES!!! Tis I! Your secret admirer!!! I loved this prompt and I had so much fun with it thank you so much and I hope you love it!!! Special thanks to @thefreakandthehair and @hairstevington for listening to be a little feral and insane about the first thing I'm writing in a very long time

Read on AO3 instead

If there was one place Eddie never expected to end up at on Valentine’s Day, it was the mall. 

When Steve had asked to ‘take point’ this year, Eddie had imagined a day at the lake, maybe a secret picnic, perhaps even a scenic road trip. Something that was their style. A tucked away moment, quiet and held close, so it belonged to just the two of them. 

There was no way the mall - the epicenter of American greed and capitalistic cannibalism - would have that. 

“I can’t believe I found this parking spot!” Steve crowed, tossing Eddie a winning smile as he threw the car into park and grabbed his phone from where it was charging, “Wasn’t that lucky?”

“Sure, Stevie,” Eddie agreed, trying to hide his disdain, but definitely failing given the way Steve’s smile dipped. The mall loomed over them, blocking out the sun with its oppressively boxy architecture, and Eddie couldn’t help his own glow starting to dim. 

The day had started so promisingly. Steve had woken up early and slipped out of bed without Eddie realizing, coming home with ludicrously over decorated heart shaped donuts and coffee from their favorite bakery. They had traded lazy sugar-filled kisses, cuddling and watching Labyrinth. 

Hell, Steve had even managed to almost hide how much he disliked the movie, commenting on David Bowie’s ass and conveniently ignoring the plot and puppets. He hadn’t even texted Robin all morning!

And now…well now they were at the mall. 

“Are we going to a movie or something? We could’ve just gone to The Hawk. You know IMAX movies give me headaches.” Eddie said as they exited the beemer. Steve came around the front, grabbing Eddie’s hand and squeezing it twice - their signal for needing the other person to listen. 

“Trust me?” Steve offered, chewing on the inside of his lip and giving Eddie the big puppy dog eyes he could never resist. Eddie groaned, grumbling softly to himself as he lifted their joined hands up to his lips. 

“Always,” he whispered back, sealing the promise with a kiss. 

As much as Eddie hated to admit it, the mall actually wasn’t as bad as he had imagined. His brain had conjured up tortuous images of packs of useless husbands trolling around for a cheap gift to pawn off on their wives, or hordes of angsty teens lamenting not having someone to share the holiday with. 

But at almost four in the afternoon it was sleepy, practically dead. And besides, it was hard to look around when Steve was dragging him forward with a single-minded determination. All Eddie could do was try and keep up, shooting glances at his boyfriend to try and catch his eye, wondering why Steve was suddenly loath to meet his gaze. 

Then they were stopping short, Eddie stumbling and nearly tripping as Steve let go of his hand out of nowhere. He righted himself, about to tell Steve off for acting so weird, when he looked up and was struck speechless. 

“You mentioned that you always wanted to go here, but that Wayne never had the money for it,” Steve mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and leaning out of Eddie’s space as he continued to avoid eye contact.

Eddie had told him that, but just once. Only once. He could remember the exact moment. The two of them in the kitchen of their apartment right after the move, unpacking mugs as Eddie told the story of each one and placed it with care on the shelf. It was the last mug, the final story of that night. 

“My dad promised me he would take me to Build-a-Bear for my fifth birthday. And my sixth. And my seventh. By my eighth, I stopped answering when he asked me what I wanted, ‘cause I knew it didn’t matter. By ten I was already living with Wayne, and I didn’t even want to ask him, I knew we couldn’t afford it. Wayne found out anyway, because he’s Wayne, and so he got me this mug for my eleventh birthday, and told me it was an IOU. I don’t even know why I wanted to go to build-a-bear so badly, I just got it in my head that having my own bear would be special. Something that was mine, and always would be, you know?” 

And now here Eddie was, standing in front of an ostentatiously yellow store with his heart settled neatly in his throat. 

“I know it’s kind of silly now, because we’re almost thirty. You might not even care anymore, but I thought maybe it would be a nice Valentine’s Day gift? We could build you a bear, and then you would have him forever and always,” Steve explained, his thoughtfulness continuing to choke Eddie to death. 

Eddie didn’t believe in God, but it was hard to believe there wasn’t something looking out for him. Something had to have given him Steve. There was no way this wonderful, beautiful man just landed in his lap. 

“I’m sorry I-” Steve began, obviously misinterpreting Eddie’s silence. 

“I love it,” Eddie said, cutting off the apology before it could truly begin. 

He couldn’t let Steve doubt this, not even for a single second. Eddie cleared his throat roughly, blindly reaching out and latching onto Steve’s wrist, pulling his boyfriend close and wrapping him in the tightest hug possible as he continued to ramble.

“I do, I love it and I- thank you, Stevie. You’re so- you’re just- thank you, thank you, thank you,” 

“Easy, Eds,” Steve murmured, the tips of his ears turning pink as he pressed their cheeks together and gave Eddie a parting squeeze. Eddie let him pull away, but didn’t let him go, interlocking their fingers as he began to bounce in place. 

“We’re going to Build-a-Bear!” Eddie giggled, his joy beginning to spill all over the place.

Steve nodded, smiling just as brightly as Eddie. But, when Eddie went to pull him forward, Steve held fast, keeping them both in place. 

“There’s just one rule. I don’t want you to look at prices at all. You get whatever you want, however you want it. Got it?” Steve said with a mock stern look. Eddie opened his mouth to agree, then hesitated.

It wasn’t like they were destitute. Between Steve’s job as a sub and Eddie’s work at the garage, they were making good money. But with rent, Steve's tuition, and the regular expenses, they didn’t exactly have a lot of cash to blow on fulfilling a childhood dream. 

“I’ve been saving for this, baby. Been doing extra tutoring on the nights you were with the guys playing dungeons and dorks,” Steve admitted, a pretty blush sitting high on his cheeks. Eddie’s heart clenched up again, and he couldn’t resist dragging Steve into a chaste but forceful kiss. 

“You’re the most amazing partner, you know that, right?” Eddie whispered against his lips. Steve ducked his head, pulling away and squeezing Eddie’s fingers silently as they walked into the store.  

The store was almost empty, even quieter than the mall itself. A couple of parents were watching their daughters giggle over clothes for their new stuffed animals, and a young couple was chatting by the little clawfoot bathtubs in the back, but other than that it was just the two of them. There was some bubblegum pop playing in the background, the kind of thing Steve liked to listen to when he made dinner at night. The sound of it settled Eddie instead of setting his teeth on edge, and he couldn’t help leaning against Steve as they approached the bins of unstuffed bears. 

“Go on, pick your new friend,” Steve said, nudging Eddie forward and taking a step back to watch. 

It was easy to eliminate some choices off the bat. Eddie took away anything that was themed for Valentines, or promotional, and he pretty quickly decided against anything that wasn’t a traditional bear. Normally he would’ve loved the contrarian energy of building a dragon or a unicorn, but he wasn’t just making this for right now. This was also for the little Eddie that had dreamt of having that perfect plush bear to snuggle with at night. 

But the problem was, he had never really imagined what the bear looked like. 

“Help me?” Eddie whined, turning back to Steve who shook his head fondly but walked forward anyway. Steve perused the options for a second before reaching into a bin and pulling out a charcoal black bear with brown eyes.

“What about this one? If you give him a battle vest and a band tee he would be a mini-you,” Steve offered, holding the bear out. Eddie took it, letting his fingers run over the fur and imagining the bear properly stuffed and dressed. 

It was perfect. 

They walked past the bear bins, up to a stand with plastic cases and the words “HEAR ME” above it in bright red letters. 

“Okay, one more rule for today. Cover your ears and turn around,” Steve ordered, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a no-nonsense look. Eddie raised a brow, briefly considering putting up a fight, just for the heck of it. 

But there was something in Steve’s face, a glint in his eyes that just bordered on the edge of panic and a crook in his smile that made it sit not quite straight on his face. Whatever he was doing, it was probably something big. 

So, instead of being a gremlin, Eddie remained obedient, turning on his heel and cupping his ears, humming one of the band’s latest creations for good measure. He managed to get all the way through the first two choruses and up to the bridge before he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes. 

“Time for the best part,” Steve said in a soft sing-song tone, pushing Eddie towards the machine filled with stuffing where an employee was patiently waiting for them. 

“Hi there, guys!” She said with a bright grin, “My name is Rosie, and I’m here to help you bring your friend to life.”

Steve, being the amazing boyfriend he was, somehow sensed Eddie’s hesitancy, speaking for both of them as they got closer. “I’m Steve, and that’s Eddie. It’s his first time here.” 

“That’s so great! Okay so I am going to stuff your new friend exactly how you’d like him, then you’re going to pick a heart out of this box and follow all my instructions,” she explained in a patient but authoritative tone that reminded Eddie so much of Nancy he almost laughed out loud. He willingly handed over the bear, watching as she lined him up with the machine. 

“Firm or soft?” 

“Soft,” Eddie answered automatically, going with his gut. 

Rosie nodded and went through the process of stuffing the bear, methodically filling up each paw and giving them a good squeeze before handing the bear to Eddie for a quick check. 

“Before we do the heart ceremony, do you want to add a smell to your bear? We have some of our scents here, and I can go to the back and get you any one off this list if you want.” She offered as Eddie held his bear close. 

“Remember our rule,” Steve whispered loudly in his ear, and Eddie rolled his eyes, his heart almost filled to the bursting. He pointed out a lemon scent on the list and they watched Rosie leave to grab it. 

“Why lemon?” Steve asked, cocking his head to one side. 

“Reminds me of how the house smells on Sundays,” Eddie replied. “All your favorite cleaning products smell like lemons, and all you drink from May to September is lemonade.” 

“It’s a refreshing smell,” Steve grumbled, not a trace of heat in his tone. Eddie chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Whatever you say, Lemon Boy,” he managed to get out just as Rosie returned, a yellow bear paw held in her hand. 

“Now while I put this in and add some final touches, you choose your heart and then we will do the heart ceremony.” She instructed. 

Eddie peered into the box, his eyes immediately locking onto a plaid heart. He plucked it out, showing it to Steve who couldn’t resist laughing. It was the exact same pattern as the god-awful wallpaper he had in his room when they first started dating, and, without words, they both knew what they were thinking about. 

“Okay, are you ready?” 

Eddie nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Rosie stood in front of them and held out her hands. 

“So you’re going to hold the heart just like this,” she demonstrated, cupping her hands and beginning to rub her palms together, “and you’re going to make the heart all nice and warm and toasty for your new buddy over there!” 

Eddie followed her directions to the letter as she had him flip the heart and tap three times (“To wake up his heart and get it beating!”) and lifted the heart up to the sky and waved it back and forth to give his bear very high hopes. He even turned in a circle, delighting in listening to Steve laugh at his antics. 

This was the exact kind of thing Eddie loved to do most - put on a show and lose himself in being a little silly. 

“Now, rub the heart down your back, that way your buddy always has your back. Rub it down your side, so they stay by your side forever and always. Rub it across your cheeks, so your buddy is always smiling each and every day, and hold the heart to your chest to make a nice big wish!” 

Eddie paused for a second, closing his eyes and taking a second to think. He had lots of wishes. He wished his van would hold out for just one more paycheck, that the kids would enjoy the campaign he put together for them. He wanted Wayne to stay healthy, for Steve to pass his classes, for someone, anyone, to find the band and give them their big shot. 

But there was one wish that was more important than the rest. 

“The last thing is giving it a nice big kiss, so your buddy is always full of love.” Rosie said with a flourish. 

Eddie was about to lift the heart to his lips when he paused, turning to Steve and holding it out. Steve’s lip curled in a small, indulgent, smile, and he leaned forward, pressing a long kiss right in the middle of the fabric heart. The edge of his lip touched Eddie’s thumb, sending a shiver down his spine. 

From there the process moved quickly. Rosie sewed up his bear with deadly efficiency, and Eddie and Steve tag teamed the wall of outfits to find the perfect battle vest for Eddie’s bear. Before he knew it, Eddie was sat at a tiny little computer with his bear in his lap and Steve’s chin hooked over his shoulder, both of them staring down at the blank bear birth certificate.

“I don’t know what to name him,” Eddie moaned, leaning back against Steve, who appeared to be deep in thought. 

“Beddie.”

“Beddie?” Eddie repeated incredulously, turning to look at Steve properly. 

“Bear Eddie,” Steve shrugged, as if that made any sense at all. “He does look just like you.”

Eddie snorted, leaning forward and typing out the name, then hesitating and typing some more. 

“What do you think?” he asked, trying to hide the sudden nerves that were lighting up his veins. The last name wasn’t a huge risk to take, but it meant something, something far more than either of them were willing to admit just yet. 

“Perfect,” Steve said with a kiss pressed to Eddie’s cheek. 

And that was how Beddie Bearington ended up nestled between Eddie and Steve that night as they lounged on the couch. Steve had fallen asleep two episodes deep into their Survivor binge, and Eddie was content to stay exactly where he was for at least a few more hours. He dipped his head down, pressing his face to the center of the bear’s chest and smelling the candied lemon scent that permeated through the fur. As he continued to cuddle his bear, Eddie felt something hard and square in the left paw. He pulled back, perplexed by the sudden change, carefully feeling around the object and wondering what it might be. 

With a jolt, Eddie finally put together Steve’s behavior from before. He had somehow hidden a  sound box inside Eddie’s bear, that was the secret Steve hadn’t let him hear before. Eddie slapped his forehead with a palm, unable to believe he could’ve missed something so obvious. The boys would’ve had words to say about their DM being so unobservant. 

Eddie took a cursory look down to make sure Steve was still asleep, and then pressed it, putting the bear's paw up to his ear. He had expected a song, or even some funny sound. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the soft tone of Steve’s voice, fulfilling the secret wish he had put into his bear’s heart. 

“Hi Eddie, it’s me, your boyfriend, Steve. I want you to know that you are the funniest, sweetest, most creative person I know, and I’m so happy that I get to love you…because I do. I love you, Eddie.” 

“It’s true,” a voice whispered from below. Eddie moved the bear and there was Steve, staring up at him. “Sorry I couldn’t say it before.”

“I love you too,” Eddie whispered, almost in awe that he could finally say it and hear it back. 

He could hear it whenever he wanted. Eddie pressed the button on the box again just because he could. Steve’s words filled the air as Eddie nestled Beddie into the couch and dipped his head down, hair falling in a curtain around them as they shared another kiss. 

[sevenmerrymagpies]

Potato Chip

Happy Valentine's Day to the couple walking back to their place tonight carrying bags of potato chips. You inspired me.

Steve gets Eddie the wrong Valentine's Day gift.

Smoking weed and blow jobs under the cut.

Potato Chip

It probably wasn't the best time to ask, but Steve was baked, and no one here would care. It wasn't like they all didn't know already, anyway. Steve was already pressed against Eddie, from his little toe all the way up his leg and hip, tangling their arms together and bumping shoulders as they wrestled for space on the couch together. 

Eddie toked and held the blunt for Steve, who obliged by taking his own toke, before he leaned over Steve - grabbing a grope with his hidden hand - as he passed the blunt to Argyle. As Eddie withdrew, Steve whispered, "What do you wanna do for Valentine's Day."

It was a bad time to ask, and like a month out, but Steve hadn't celebrated a Valentine's Day with a dude before, and he was kind of excited about it. Plus, this was his first Valentine's Day since 1984, which didn't make him feel kind of pathetic. He always had a date, but fuck if a second date with a girl who could barely stand him but wanted to see if the rumors about his big dick were true was only one step up from being single. And only because he got laid.

So, it didn't matter if it was a bad time to ask. What mattered was that it was on his mind, and he was too stoned to think it through. 

Eddie, though, Eddie was maybe just too stoned. "Potato chip."

"What?" Steve asked. If Eddie wanted potato chips, he could do that, but he wasn't sure exactly what that meant? 

"What?" Eddie asked as if he finally realized Steve was talking to him.

"What?" Jon asked from where he was lying on the floor. 

"Who?" Argyle laughed. "I've heard this sketch before."

Nancy giggled from where she was lying down between Argyle, who was half-draped on the couch, and Jon on the floor. "Who."

"Like an owl," Argyle agreed before he started hooting like an owl. 

"Doctor?" Robin asked at the same time.

"Oh, Will watches that on PBS," Jon said. 

Argyle continued to hoot.

"I think this conversation is going over my head," Steve admitted.

"I'm hungry," Eddie said. "I'm raiding the kitchen."

"Bring back chips," Robin called out over Argyle, Jon, and Nancy, hooting at each other.

"Yeah, duh." 

+++

Steve only realized as he was walking with Eddie into his house that perhaps, just maybe, he should have asked again. Or thought about it more? 

"I brought the good stuff," Eddie said as he kicked off his shoes before he wandered into the house towards the den. 

"The good stuff?" Steve asked, not really paying attention because he was suddenly very unsure about his plans for their evening.

"California weed from Argyle?" Eddie asked, turning around.

"Is that a question?"

"It is now, I thought the plan was to get high, make out, and crash here? I already let Wayne know I'm staying the night? I thought the plan was I'm bringing the weed, and you were supplying the lube?"

"Did we talk about this?" Steve asked worried that he was starting to forget whole conversations. Maybe Robin was right, and those concussions really were going to have a lasting impact on his brain.

"Uh, of course-"Eddie trailed off as his eyes widened. "Uh, I thought that- But now I'm thinking about it, I'm pretty sure my thoughts stayed thoughts, and I never answered your question?"

"My question?"

"What I wanted to do for Valentine's Day. You asked, like, last month."

"You told me this?"

"I'm not so sure that I did."

"Because you told me something, but-"

"I told you something?"

"Uh, why don't you come into the kitchen and see for yourself?"

Eddie blinked a few times before he dashed off to the kitchen, Steve scrambling to keep up behind him. 

"What the?" Eddie shouted as Steve rounded the corner to the kitchen.

"Surprise!" Steve tried to bring enthusiasm to his voice, but he was seriously doubting himself right now.

"What is all this?" Eddie asked, gesturing to the kitchen island. 

Steve had decked out the island with three large bowls of chips. One plain, one sour cream and chive (Eddie's favorite), and the final was a crinkle cut. Steve had prevaricated on that choice a lot. Should he get a third flavor like BBQ? Or should it all be plain chips to compliment the dips? But not getting Eddie his favorite wasn't a good idea. So he compromised and got Eddie's favorite and two plain ones in different textures. 

God, he probably overthought something so stupid. 

He'd also made a handful of dips. Onion dip, of course. Then there was a homemade ranch he made with buttermilk - he now had so much buttermilk in his fridge that he had to figure out how to finish. There was a veggie dip that Robin really liked. It was green and almost like having a vegetable. Healthyish. Then, finally, there was millionaire dip - an old family favorite with bacon, cheddar, and chive. 

"Uh. Ta-da!" Steve said, his voice fading. "Potato chip feast!"

"Is this for us?"

"Technically, it's for you because you asked for potato chips?"

"Potato chips?" Eddie said, finally turning to Steve and stalking towards him. 

"You said, and I quote, 'potato chip'."

"Nothing about lube?" Eddie asked, getting up in Steve's space and pushing him back into the hallway wall. 

"Uh, nope. I mean, I have some upstairs, but I didn't get anything special."

"You just got me-"

"Potato chip. Yup."

Eddie's confused expression broke like dawn as he loomed over Steve, slumped against the wall, looking up at his boyfriend. "You made me a potato chip feast because I was so high that I told you 'potato chip' and didn't tell you what I actually wanted?"

Steve sighed. "I know I should have-"

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," Eddie said as he held up his finger against Steve's lips. "This is amazing, and I'm getting the feeling that you don't realize how amazing it is."

"But this isn't even-"

"No, this is better. We can get shit-faced and feast. No, wait. We can fuck and then get shit-faced and feast." Eddie said as he lowered himself to his knees.

"Uh," Steve said, still not having caught up with Eddie.  It didn't matter, though, because Eddie pulled out Steve's half-hard dick and swallowed it down. "Oh, shit."

Eddie hummed as he worked his mouth up and down Steve's rapidly hardening shaft. 

"I guess," Steve breathed out and worked to keep his hips still. "You like your gift."

Eddie's response was to pull Steve's balls out and fondle them, which always made Steve's knees melt. 

"Fuck, Eddie."

Eddie didn't respond; he just kept sucking Steve's brain out of his dick until he couldn't think straight. He didn't last long, couldn't like this. Steve came with a grunt, and Eddie swallowed every last drop.

Steve was still stupid from how quickly Eddie had worked him over. Eddie tucked Steve back in his pants before he stood up and kissed Steve. A hint of the bleachy taste of his spunk was on Eddie's lips. Shit, did that get him going. 

"Let's take this upstairs, huh?" Eddie said. "You got that lube, right?"

"Yeah," Steve breathed out, letting Eddie drag him upstairs. "Yeah, I have lube."

"And the dips will keep?"

Steve blinked. "Uh, for a bit. Sure."

"Cool. I don't think I'm gonna last long tonight, anyway. We can do something more elaborate tomorrow. Now let's go celebrate Valentine's Day."

[musingsofmajesty]

𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐬𝐡�� 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 → 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬] 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈𝐕

summary it’s valentines’s day 1986, and for the first time ever, Eddie’s got himself a true valentine. And when he runs out of words to say, he’s grateful to have his guitar | fluff, mildly suggestive | wc 1.8k

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[best enjoyed in order, but not required! ♡]

.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．

Eddie’s palms are warm where they rest over your eyes. Getting through the door of his trailer is an awkward, giggly shuffle, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. The small teddy bear he’d gifted you at school earlier that morning is hugged to your chest like a prize. 

In another life, he would’ve trusted you to keep your eyes closed as he led you inside, but not this one. Someway, somehow, you would’ve found a reason to peek, then flash him a sweet smile as a means of asking for forgiveness. 

So he took matters into his own hands. 

After you’ve managed to make it inside, he huffs out a relieved breath and your smile grows even wider. 

“Alright, you ready?” he asks, voice soft near your ear. 

“Yes,” you insist, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

“Three…two…one…” 

He lowers his hands from your eyes. 

You blink a few times to orient yourself. After that, a surge of warmth is quick to travel through you. The Munson living room is tidier than you’ve ever seen it. Two heart shaped balloons grace the ceiling. Rose petals are sprinkled around the pink gift bag that rests on the coffee table. 

You take a few steps forward, but can’t help but turn around to look back at him where he stands. He’s chewing on his lower lip, hands shoved into his pockets. Nobody had gone through such an effort on Valentine’s Day for you since you were a little girl. He blinks at you with soft, anticipating eyes. 

“All this for me?” you ask. It’s the only way you can think to voice your initial surprise. 

He chuckles as if there could possibly be anybody else. 

“I’m just making sure,” you lightly defend before walking over to sit down on the couch. Eddie follows and sits down beside you. 

Your cheeks warm as he watches, fondness radiating from his gaze. “You’re making me all nervous, watching me like that.”  The pleasant, fluttery type of nervousness. Your eyes flick to him after pulling the bag closer to yourself. 

“Don’t be,” he says with a sincere shrug of his shoulder. “It’s just me.” 

“That’s the problem,” you murmur, almost petulantly. “You’re everything.”

Eddie huffs out a breath that’s caught somewhere between amusement and denial. But he doesn’t say anything as his own cheeks prickle, shaking his head. 

A smile stretches across your face as you finally reach into the gift bag. 

The first thing your fingers grasp are the drawstrings of a small velvet bag. It’s a deep, forest green. Upon pulling it open, your mouth falls open at the sight of two dainty steel rings inside. One has a small pearl accent and the other is shaped like a snake. You all but gush as you slip them onto your fingers. 

Eddie’s shoulders finally relax. 

“Now I’m more like you.” You make it sound like a good thing as you show him your hand and wiggle excitedly. Your nails are a pretty cherry red. “These are perfect, Eddie,” you sigh. 

Then you add lightly, “You really pay attention, huh?”

Of course he does. He always did—was glad to.

Naturally, when you began fawning over his rings one evening, he made a mental note to get you some of your own from the place he liked shopping at. They specialized in more intricate designs that contrasted the simple ones you gravitated towards before him.

This came, of course, came after you’ve already managed to bum a couple from his own collection. He could never say no when you batted your eyelashes and gave him sweet kisses to soothe over the fact that you were taking his belongings. 

“There’s one more thing,” he says, nodding to the bag.

This time, you pull out a cassette tape. A mixtape, rather. There’s a list of songs written out in his blocky handwriting along with little doodles. Most of them are titles he’s gathered are some of your favorites—What a Feeling, Open Your Heart, When Doves Cry, Manic Monday, Rock With You, Don’t Stop Believin’…—But the last track brings a wistful smile to your face. 

“Master of Puppets is on here too…” 

It’s the song he was listening to the day you worked up the courage to go sit with him at lunch. He’d taken off his headphones, only for you to promptly slip them on. His soul had left his body at the idea of you gaining further insight into his heavy music taste, but after a few seconds, you’d smiled at at him and begun bobbing your head. 

Now you know all the lyrics. 

You’re not exactly sure why tears spring to your eyes, but they do. And they slip down your cheeks before you know it. You chuckle despite yourself, and wipe them away with your thumbs. Eddie’s heart drops a little even though he knows you aren’t sad. 

He scoots closer and drapes an arm over your shoulder. “You okay?” he asks. 

You nod and nuzzle into his shoulder. “Thank you,” you murmur. 

“Of course.”

Later that night, after going out to eat at the diner, you find yourself sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor and combing through a small box of his guitar picks. They’re all different colors. Some have fun patterns and designs.

You eventually pluck out a light yellow one that reminds you of springtime. You hold it up to Eddie, where he sits on the foot of his bed with his acoustic guitar in his lap. 

“Nice choice,” he says as he strums a pretty, nonchalant series of notes. 

“Thanks,” you chirp through a yawn. 

He hums and continues strumming. At first, you think he’s still warming up, but a proper melody emerges soon enough. It’s a soulful, almost folky sound. Nothing like he’s ever played at the Hideout, and you don’t recognize it as being a cover of any song you know.

His eyes remain on the fingerboard as he plays, and when he chances a glance down at you, there’s a certain weight to his gaze. As if the notes are saying everything he has yet to say.  

Suddenly, you’re wide awake. You can feel him in the notes. You can feel yourself too. 

You’re entranced and awed as you sit and listen. You watch his fingers and the concentrated furrow between his brows until the song eventually slows to a close. Just like that, his Bambi eyes drift steadily back to you. He holds your gaze for a few seconds until you feel compelled to stand on your knees and move into space to the space between his legs. 

Without so much as thinking, he brings a hand to your cheek and leans forward to press his lips to yours, ignoring the way his guitar gently digs into his chest. It’s a tender, weighted kiss. Eddie feels like he’s floating. 

“Did you write that?” you whisper against his lips after pulling back some. 

He nods. “What’d you think?” 

You’re quiet as you run your fingertips along the stubble on his jaw. “I might need to hear it again,” you say, but a smile plays in your voice. “And again, and again, and again…” you kiss him again, with more intention and eagerness. 

A small sound rises up Eddie’s throat, and he doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed. Because you part from him and stand, pressing a gentle hand to his chest in a silent request for him to lay back. After setting his guitar aside, he listens, scooting further up on the mattress so the lower half of his body is more supported.

His mind is so fuzzy that he doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but you crawl onto the bed and straddle yourself over his lap. It’s a bold move, even for you. But it feels like the next sensible thing to do. You’ve never felt so safe or drawn to another person.

“Is this okay?” you ask as you look down at him. 

Eddie surprises himself with a flustered laugh. You’re a pretty girl straddling him in your pretty Valentine’s Day outfit, and even he’s not immune to the warmth stir in his gut. And he keeps laughing. Because there’s a newer sense of intimacy to it all.

His hands buzz because he wants to touch you so bad, but he doesn’t know where. How much pressure to apply. Whether or not you’ll take it the wrong way. 

Lucky for you, he’s got just about the sweetest laugh of any guy you’ve ever heard. You can’t help but smile, even though you wish you could pout at him for laughing at a time like this. But something about the sound, as it rumbles through his chest, puts you at ease. 

“See, now I’m starting to second guess myself ‘cause of you.” You’re teasing, but Eddie’s eyes go a bit wide. 

“I’m not laughing at you,” he starts. “I promise. Never.” 

“No, it’s okay. I see how it is.”  You pretend like you’re about to move off of him. 

But his hands shoot out to rest on your waist. His hold isn’t harsh, but it’s firm and steady enough to let you know he wants you to stay. Butterflies flutter in your stomach. When a tell-tale smirk stretches across your face, Eddie lets out a helpless sigh.  

“I’m starting to think you get a rise out driving me crazy,” he says. 

“If it’s taken you this long to figure that out—”

A squeal escapes you when he gently squeezes your waist a couple times. You grip onto his wrists with an anxious grin on your face, and he brushes his thumbs over your shirt to let you know you can relax. When you let go, he lets his hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt so they can settle on your skin. You’re soft and warm. It feels like you’ve known his touch for a lifetime. 

You note the way he starts blinking slower, as if his eyelids have grown heavier. The way his breaths grow a bit deeper, steadier. His curls look beautiful splayed around his head. The cut of his jawline is handsome even as he’s lying down. You can’t help but think you lucked out with this quiet, charming, handsome boy. 

When you shift over top of him, he shifts as well. As if to counter whatever feeling you’ve caused to stir within him. But it doesn’t quite work out. Not really. His cheeks have flushed a rosy shade of pink at the intoxicating weight of you overtop of him. 

“Sorry,” you lilt coyly. 

Eddie shakes his head because, as new as this all is, he’d never trade it. Never in a million years. And as he smooths his hands back down your thighs, he swears he’ll handle you with care for all the days of his life, if you let him. 

“Don’t be,” he assures. 

Thank you so much for reading! And Happy Valentine's Day. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated ♡

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[punkrockmlchael]

Secret Admirer

Masterlist | Gareth Emerson Masterlist

Gareth Emerson x Fem Cheerleader!Reader

Modern AU ; Secret Admirer to Lovers

Warnings: This is literally just fluff because I just.. needed this, No like literally buckle up for the fluffiest fluff, big bad and scary Gareth is actually a huge and sweet teddy bear when you get to know him, Secret Admirer!Gareth, Cheerleader!Reader, Best Friend!Chrissy, Kind of mean girl cheerleader friends, Gareth has little sisters, Gareth has a cat

Synopsis: Random love letters continue to find their way into your locker at school, it felt like each and every day there was a new one. As time goes on your friends are constantly guessing who they think your "Secret Admirer" actually is. But, they couldn't have been more wrong. This has been giving me trouble because I wanted it to be the best it could be and I continued to come back to it. It has nothing to do with Valentine's Day but I made it a goal to finish it before then and this, uh, this turned out pretty long... So, to anyone that was waiting I'm sorry for the delay but I hope you enjoy how this turned out! Thanks for reading! + once again thank you to the loves of my life @keeryhours + @the-witty-pen-name

Word Count: 7k

Notes. 

Love notes? 

No, just notes… right? 

That’s how it all started… with some small and subtle handwritten notes. Sweet little anonymous notes that always seemed to brighten your day and compliment you when you needed them the most. They came so often you were starting to wonder how you never noticed them being placed inside your locker… they must’ve been stuffed through the gaps but whoever was placing them definitely had to be quick and cunning if you never noticed them before, right?

It felt like every single day when you opened your locker a new handwritten note would fall to the ground and land at your feet. Each and every note seemed to have come from the same person—the consistent handwriting didn’t hide that, it actually only accentuated the fact that all these notes were from one person. But, alas, you never were able to find out who was sending them…

The scribbly and slightly slanted handwriting was a stark contrast to the nice and neat little square the paper was always folded into. It was funny, really, there was so much detail put into the folding of the paper but the handwriting was borderline unreadable unless you squinted and tilted your head to just the right angle. These notes were also never addressed with any name, any initials, anything; never even a clue as to who this person was, they never seemed to slip up and give away their identity. Which left you constantly playing the guessing game of who this person was and why they chose you to supply letters to. 

Each time a new note fell to the ground you’d look around, trying to spot if there was anyone lurking in the shadows and watching you. But, you never found anyone, at least, you never seemed to find someone who was actively watching you and your moves… if they were watching you they were doing it so discreetly that you never once thought anything of it. They were good at concealing their identity, really. 

Every little love note from your secret admirer, as Chrissy had called it, made its way into your folder. It brought a smile to your face every time the folder was opened, but you still wished you knew who exactly was writing the letters that put a huge smile on your face.

And more importantly… did they know they were putting these smiles on your face? Or, was all of this just a trick someone was playing on you? There’s no way you could have a secret admirer… right?

You sighed, yawning softly as you put the combination into your locker on autopilot. You had a late night; a pep rally was directly after school and the championship basketball game followed soon after. So, that meant that you cheered your little butt off for the entire school during said pep rally and for the entire town that had decided to come out to the championship game. All the while the band played in the background to help keep everyone interacted with obnoxious sounds of basketball coming from the court. (You know, the dribbling, the squeaks of sneakers, the shouts from players and the crowd; yeah, all of that.) Fortunately, Hawkins had won the championship game; the first big win in years. Unfortunately, that meant that you were stuck being dragged to a party after the game with your best friends and fellow cheerleaders, Chrissy and Kate. Apparently despite being a school night, the win still needed to be celebrated. But, really, what was the point? The game was already done, the win already secured by Jason Carver as he made the game winning shot at the buzzer. 

God, what more was there to celebrate? You wanted to celebrate your bed. But, no. Instead you were dragged out of the gym and to the biggest party you’d ever been to. Chrissy and Kate assured you that you’d be back home by 9 o’clock at night, but once 11 o’clock hit your body was finally resting in your bed comfortably, only to lie awake for ages. The clock showing 1:25 in the morning was the last thing you remembered before finally falling asleep.

You felt like you were running on empty as you yawned yet again, desperately craving an overly sweet iced coffee flavored with caramel syrup with extra whipped cream on top and maybe some extra caramel drizzle on top of that light and fluffy whipped cream. Yeah… that sounded like heaven right now. Caffeine buzz… sugar buzz… honestly, either sounded like they would help at this point in time. After struggling with your locker combination a couple of times, you finally succeeded and opened your locker to grab your English textbook. As you flung the door open, a small folded piece of paper landed at your feet. 

You raised an eyebrow and looked down at the paper by your feet before looking around the hall to see if there was anyone watching you. When you didn’t see anyone actively paying attention to you, you shrugged, bending down to reach for the paper. 

You held the small, perfectly folded paper in your hands before you opened it carefully, reading the contents to yourself.

You looked really pretty at the school pep rally yesterday.

You blushed to yourself, folding the paper back up quickly. You stuffed it in your pocket and grabbed your English textbook, closing your locker. You turned when you heard your name, looking at Kate as she walked towards you with a big grin on her face. Clearly, she was not affected by the late night like you were. She was looking as peppy and chipper as ever… damn, how did she do it? Did she already down that sugary and caffeine filled coffee of your dreams without you?

“Hey, girl,” Kate smiled, bumping your shoulder with her own gently. “How’d you sleep?” She giggled, taking in your tired and disheveled looking appearance. “I texted you, you didn’t respond. I had thought maybe you didn’t wake up in time for school this morning!” 

Looking at Kate, you rolled your eyes as a small scoff left your mouth. “I saw your text, I just didn’t have the brain power to reply. And as for sleeping? I slept like hell, thanks,” you muttered, making the short walk to your English class. Kate walked alongside you, smiling at you.

“Sorry, girl, I thought maybe you could survive off of a few hours of sleep.” She teased, walking into the classroom with you. You sighed, sinking into your seat.

“I can’t,” you replied softly, grabbing your folder out of your backpack. You grabbed the tiny piece of paper from your pants pocket and slid it in the folder discreetly for safe keeping. “And, I think you know that I can’t. I’m going to be honest, I think the only solution at this point is an iced coffee with too much caramel and too much whipped cream.” 

“Damn. Well, you better wake up quick,” she smirked, watching you rest your head in your hands. “Don’t think you want detention with the freaks today.” She added, motioning towards the boys of the Hellfire club. Eddie and Jeff stood around Gareth’s desk, talking far too loud for only being 7 o’clock in the morning. They continued to laugh and talk amongst each other, something about camping? No, a campaign? What the hell was a campaign? You really weren’t sure what they were going on about this early in the morning… it seemed like a foreign language to you and the other students that heard their conversation.

“Kate, don’t call them that,” you yawned again, watching the three boys continue to laugh until the bell rang. “They’re not freaks,” you mumbled, smiling softly when you saw Gareth look at you and smile.

“They are totally freaks, though.” Kate muttered back, looking at the board in the front of the room. 

But you didn’t hear her. You just yawned again, giving Gareth one last smile before looking at the board as well. You were clinging to the hope that you could at least make it to lunch in order to get a nap in… who needed to eat anyways?

You sat in study hall, reading The Great Gatsby to yourself as others around you mumbled and talked amongst themselves about various topics. No one else was doing any homework, and you didn’t really blame them. No one ever actually did homework in study hall… it was the class that students took to tell their parents they would be getting ahead of their schoolwork, but, really, it was just a free for all social hour. Even the teacher that watched study hall didn’t really care, she used this free time to pretend she was grading papers for her class but she was really just swiping through her latest dating app matches trying to find Mr. Right on her phone under the desk. And, it was kind of funny watching her sit and mumble to herself when she didn’t get a match she wanted but, also, this was Hawkins… not many suitors for a teacher at the local high school in her mid 30s. 

Normally you’d be sitting with Chrissy giggling with each other while watching the teacher as she aggressively swiped on her phone, mumbling to herself more. Then you’d move on to giggling about your latest cheer practice, then you’d be discussing the latest shade of nail polish you bought, then you’d go back to giggling about the latest funny video you saw online before finally discussing the newest skirt you had picked up at the mall. But, not today. Today you were just unlucky as Chrissy was sick which left you all alone in study hall. So, you might as well work on some homework… right?

While reading, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pouting to yourself when it moved over your ear again. You ran your fingers through your locks, sighing when you realized how short your hair actually was now. It framed your face perfectly—like you had wanted—but now it was too short to pull back into a ponytail, to place in a bun and apparently too short to even push back behind your ears to get it out of your face. 

Damn haircut.

You continued to attempt to push the strands of hair behind your ears before sighing to yourself, setting the book down on the table. You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked out the window, watching the wind blow the dry and brittle leaves around the field gently.

The sounds of the people talking around you started to become muffled as you continued to look out the window, watching the leaves dance through the air without a care in the world. There was a big gust of wind, the leaves flying through the wind freely, tauntingly almost, as you sat and watched. Your copy of The Great Gatsby sat long forgotten in front of you as your eyes followed the leaves outside the window.

You glanced over to the table in front of the window, watching as the Hellfire boys sat around in a circle having a very intense discussion. How do these boys always seem to be so in the zone and have the most intense conversations no matter the time of day? It kind of made you envious of the fact that they all enjoyed each other’s company and didn’t care what others around them thought—literally, they were so loud. They were polar opposites of so many others; most people in high school were so caught up in wanting to be popular and needing to fall into a specific category that they would do anything for it. But not these boys; no, these boys were different.

You watched as the boys continued to joke around with each other before Gareth stood up. He nodded at the others and walked past your table, smiling at you a little as he walked towards the door. You smiled at him before you glanced back at your book, picking it up again to attempt to dive back into the story you needed to desperately finish for English class. 

After a few minutes you were finally able to get back into your book. You became so engrossed in the story telling of Nick Carraway that you didn’t notice Gareth slip back into the room and back into his seat at the table with his Hellfire friends. They all went back to talking and joking with each other during the remainder of study hall. 

The annoying ring of the bell and the sound of your classmates packing their belongings up in a hurry was what finally pulled you out of your book. You sighed, marking the page you were on before you stuffed the book in your backpack and stood up, making your way out the door and down the hall to your locker. 

You put your combination in gracefully, opening the door to grab the correct books for your homework. A small piece of paper fell to your feet, landing on top of your converse shoes. You picked it up and unfolded it, reading the note to yourself.

You got a haircut; I like it. It looks good on you.

You blushed softly, reading the words on the paper before you glanced around you. There weren't many people roaming the hall at this time; it seemed like everyone was already out the door or on their way to practices and clubs. The only person walking towards you was your locker neighbor—Gareth. He smiled at you softly before he stopped next to you, putting the combination in his locker. You smiled back, holding the paper to your chest before you attempted to tuck the short strands of hair behind your ear again.

You grabbed your folder from your locker, placing the note inside carefully before shutting the door quietly. You glanced at Gareth, watching as he went through his less than tidy locker. Papers were scattered about the inside, crumpled and ripped and continuing to move with each movement he made.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, eyes stuck in his locker. He glanced at you and smiled a little. “Hey, uh, what’re the odds you know the homework we’re supposed to do for English tonight?” 

You smiled, looking at him with a slight nod. “Yeah, uh, here,” you replied, grabbing your planner from your bag. You turned it to the correct day before you handed it to him. Gareth smiled as he took his cellphone out of his pocket, snapping a picture of the homework you had written down. 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver… I swear I had it written down but can’t find it.” He stopped for a second, looking up at you. “Did you get a haircut?” He asked softly, his smile growing more. 

You nodded, running your fingers through your now short hair. “Uh, yeah. I’m not a huge fan of it…”

“Well, I think it looks good on you,” Gareth replied, closing his locker. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He asked, looking at you. You smiled, a pink tint covering your cheeks.

“Yeah… see you tomorrow, Gareth…” Gareth nodded at your response, smiling again as he turned away and walked towards the theater room, catching up with his friends Jeff and Eddie. You stood there for a second, watching him leave and begin laughing again with his friends. 

“Hey?” Kate called your name, walking towards you. “You okay? What are you looking at?” She asked, stopping next to you. You hummed, turning towards her.

“Huh? Oh, uh, nothing. Sorry, I was kind of zoning out…” 

“Right, well, ready for practice?” She asked, looking at you.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry.” You replied, turning to walk towards the locker room. 

“What were you looking at?” Kate asked, walking alongside you. You shrugged, not wanting to admit to her that you were watching one of the freaks as she called him.

“Oh, nothing. I thought I heard something… you know?”

Kate raised an eyebrow, not believing you. “Yeah, sure.”

“Stupid fucking glasses,” you muttered to yourself, squinting as you looked at the board in your World History class. You tried to move a bit closer, leaning over your desk as you scribbled some notes sloppily in your notebook. When you realized that even moving closer to the board wasn’t helping, you sighed to yourself. You sat back in your seat as your teacher continued to speak to the entire class, making more and more notes on the white board about the latest World History Lesson.

You took your glasses off and squinted again, trying to keep up with the notes that were being written on the board. A small groan escaped your lips as you gave up on reading the board, instead taking notes based on what your teacher was speaking aloud. 

Gareth glanced up at you as he took his own notes, noticing how you seemed to be struggling with seeing the board. He raised an eyebrow as you put your new glasses back on, eyes directly on your notebook now as you wrote down everything you heard. You attempted to keep up with the notes, struggling slightly as your pen moved across the paper in hasty scribbles, it would be a miracle if you could even reread these notes later. 

Once the bell rang you stood up and moved towards the front of the room, looking at the board once again only this time from a closer view. You quickly wrote down any of the notes you had missed, comparing your notebook to the board a few times before gathering your belongings. You snapped a quick picture of the notes on the board with your phone to compare later before you walked to your locker, smiling at Gareth slightly as he stood at his own locker. 

He smiled at you, nodding at you slightly. “Hey,” he said softly, grabbing his textbook for his next class. “New glasses?” He asked, motioning to his own face.

“Hey, uh, yeah… I, uh, I got them yesterday after school,” you replied, putting the combination into your locker. 

“Nice, well, they look good on you.” Gareth replied, closing his locker. “I really like the black frames on you, they really make your eyes pop.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled, blushing softly. You opened your locker and watched a folded piece of paper fall to your feet. You bent down to grab it, opening it slightly to read the contents to yourself. Your eyes skimmed over the note, squinting slightly as you took in the words that were written on the paper.

You got new glasses, huh? The black frames look totally badass on you. 

You blushed a bit, reading over the note again. Someone else had actually noticed your new glasses and thought they looked good? And, they even went out of their way to compliment you on your new glasses, putting this note in your locker for you to find? You smiled a little, thinking to yourself. You thought these new glasses were terrible… they were just too big and bulky. Not to mention, they kind of gave you a bit of a headache, and they made it difficult to see the board in class right now. You pushed your glasses up higher on the bridge of your nose, examining the note in greater detail. 

God, whose handwriting was that? Who did you know that could write in such a sloppy, slanted manner? And, why—no, how—was the paper always folded up so perfectly?

You folded the note back up and stuffed it into your pocket. Glancing up, you noticed Gareth was gone and was probably off to his next class by now.

“Hey!” You jumped at the sound of Chrissy walking towards you, giggling to herself. “Woah, you good girl?” She asked, looking at you with a smile. 

“Huh? Yeah, sorry, just… have a headache,” you mumbled, grabbing your notebook from your locker before shutting it quickly.

“Yeah, I’ve heard new glasses can do that to you.” She said softly with a small frown. “But, at least you can see, right?” 

“Something like that,” you replied, nodding as you looked at her. “Ready for class?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Chrissy nodded, walking with you towards your next class. Your right hand made its way into your pocket, playing with the folded note gently. 

God, who was leaving these notes?

“Oh my god, this is so weird,” you smiled from your seat at the cheerleader lunch table. You were sitting next to Chrissy and across from Kate, a wide smile on your face as you looked at both of them.

“What?” Kate asked, smiling at you.

“Yeah, what’re you going on about, girlie?” Chrissy smiled, taking a bite of her salad.

“This is like my first lunch without braces in god knows how long.” You smiled brightly, showing off your perfectly straight and shiny teeth. “There’s so many foods I can eat now like… I can have gum again, I can have potato chips, I can have popcorn. My god, I am so excited to eat all the food I haven’t been able to lately.” 

“How many selfies have you taken so far?” Chrissy giggled, looking at you with a smile. “I have to think you’ve at least taken a couple of selfies already to show off your brand new smile.”

You giggled, taking a bite of one of your baby carrots. “Maybe just a few… you know, just had to take some pictures and test out some new angles,” you smiled more, running your tongue over your teeth. It felt weird. It was smooth, and there were no more braces.

“I have to admit, you look good without the braces,” Kate smiled, looking at you. “Don’t get me wrong, you were always beautiful but you look so happy without them on.”

“Yeah, your smile is so contagious.” Chrissy smiled as well, agreeing with Kate. You smiled at them both, continuing to munch on your baby carrots with ranch.

“You’re both going to make me blush,” you giggled. You finished your lunch while joking with your friends before the bell rang. 

“Shit, I forgot I have a math test,” Kate said, standing up.

“Damn, that means I have a math test,” Chrissy groaned, standing up as well. They both looked at you and smiled, “see you after school, girl.” 

“Yep! See you at cheer practice,” you smiled, rising from your seat. You grabbed your items and made your way to your locker. You put your combination in and opened the door, watching yet again as a small piece of folded paper fell to your feet. This one was a little different, your name was on the outside of the paper with a small smiley face drawn next to it.

You bent down and picked up the paper, reading your name on the outside before you opened it, looking at the contents within.

No more braces, huh? God, your smile is breathtaking. 

You blushed a bright red, unable to hide the wide smile that was forming on your face. Who is the one person that keeps noticing these small little changes about you? And, follow up question, why do they feel the need to tell you through these notes? Are they seeing the smile that forms on your face after you read the notes? Are they doing it as a joke?

Reading over the note again, you smiled as you looked into your locker, reaching for your textbook. You grabbed your folder as well, placing the note inside before you closed the locker door and made your way towards your next class wearing the same smile you had when you first read the note—a huge, bright and contagious smile, as Chrissy called it. 

“Have you figured out who your secret admirer is yet?” Kate, asked as you walked towards your lockers together after cheer practice was finally over. The halls were dim and empty, the three of you the only ones around for the time being. 

“It’s Steve! No, it’s Andy! Wait, maybe it’s Tommy,” Chrissy squealed, naming off all of the popular boys in your grade.

“Chrissy, come on, you’re just throwing names out left and right at this point,” Kate commented, shaking her head. You shrugged, walking towards your locker.

“I think you are both too invested in this,” you said, stopping at your locker. “I mean, they’re just little letters and I don’t even know who they’re from!” You said, putting your locker combination in. “It’s not a big deal.”

“They’re love letters,” Kate corrected, looking at you. “That is, like, so totally a big deal!”

“Yeah! This could be your future boyfriend! Your future husband, the father of your children,” Chrissy gushed, watching as you opened your locker.

“You two are just so—” you started, cutting yourself off as you looked into your locker. You raised your eyebrow, looking at the girls before redirecting your attention back to the locker. 

“We’re so what?” Chrissy asked, giggling.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Kate asked, moving to get a better look in your locker.

You picked up the single red rose that was sitting in your locker, holding it up. You lifted it to your nose, sniffing it gently before you noticed the piece of paper attached to it. You quickly unfolded it, reading the contents as a smile appeared on your face.

You’re the most beautiful girl in the world ♡

You looked up at Kate and Chrissy, smiles forming on their faces as well. “Still think it’s not a big deal?” Kate asked, taking a peek at the love note. “Someone is like, in love with you!”

“Oh, my god,” Chrissy squealed again, jumping up and down. “This is so perfect, oh my god, what if he’s planning on asking you to Prom?”

“Chrissy, I still don’t even know who he is,” you reminded her, looking down the hall to see if you could find anyone. Then again, it was after school and clubs… not too many people were still here willingly. No, just a few teachers and the janitors tended to linger around the building at this time.

“Come on, it has to be Steve, he’s always watching you while we’re cheering!” Chrissy smiled, looking at you. 

“Oh, my god, picture it,” Kate smiled, joining in on Chrissy’s excitement. “Prom; Chrissy and Jason, me and Billy, and you and Steve!”

“Isn’t he with Nancy?” You asked, sniffing the rose again. Kate shook her head rapidly. 

“No! They broke up!”

“Yeah, she’s with Jonathan now,” Chrissy added, looking at you. “Oh, god, I hope it’s Steve!” 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at your two friends and their speculations. You grabbed your things and smiled at them, closing your locker. “You guys are crazy,” you said, looking at them. “But, I have to go. I have to go work on a World History project with my partner.”

“Partner?” Chrissy asked, gasping slightly. “Wait, is it Steve?” 

“Or Andy? Or Tommy?” Kate asked, giggling with Chrissy. You shook your head and looked at them.

“No, it’s Gareth.” 

“The freak?” Chrissy asked. You shook your head slightly and looked at her.

“Don’t call him that, he’s actually pretty nice… I think,” you replied, shrugging slightly.

“Oh, god, don’t tell me you have a crush on one of the freaks,” Kate said softly, rolling her eyes. 

“Look, I have to go. I’m already late, I texted him and told him I’d be there around five and it’s almost five thirty!” You panicked, grabbing your phone to send Gareth a text. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bye!” You added, running towards the door as you typed out a text to Gareth. 

You made it to your car and started the short drive to Gareth’s house from the high school. He had sent you a text back that you read once you pulled up to his house, a text back that just said ‘it’s fine, no biggie,’ but to you it felt like a biggie, in fact, it felt like a big biggie. You hated being late and even more, you hated blowing people off. You grabbed your bag and hopped out of the car, walking towards the front door; taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer. 

After a minute or so a cute little girl opened the door. She was probably around seven or so and looked just like Gareth—she had blue eyes, fluffy hair with little curls thrown about and an adorable smile with a tooth missing in the front. She held a small baby blue teddy bear under her arm and smiled up at you.

“Hi! I’m Gracie,” she beamed, looking at you.

“Hi, Gracie,” you smiled at her. “Is Gareth home?”

She nodded and giggled, turning around. “Gare! Your girlfriend is here!” She turned back to you and smiled, “you’re pretty.”

You blushed softly as she called you her brother’s girlfriend, smiling a little. “Why, thank you, Gracie.” After a minute Gareth came walking to the front door, looking at Gracie.

“Why are you yelling at me?” He asked, noticing you at the door. He smiled at you slightly before looking back at Gracie.

“I said your girlfriend is here,” Gracie said, pointing to you. “She’s pretty, Gare, are you going to kiss her?” 

You stifled a laugh, biting your lip as you looked at her with a small smile. Gareth turned a bright shade of red before he shook his head, pointing towards the living room. “Okay, that’s enough. Don’t you have a tea party to get back to?” Gracie gasped and nodded, looking at Gareth.

“You’re right! Mr. Fluffy is waiting for me!” And with that Gracie was running back to her tea party, forgetting you were even at the door. Gareth shook his head and looked up at you, still a bit pink as he stepped to the side and motioned for you to come in.

“Hey, uh, sorry about… her,” he said softly, closing the door behind you as you walked in. “She’s got… quite the imagination,” Gareth trailed off, looking into the living room as he watched his sister go back to her tea party with her stuffed animals. “We can go to my room,” he said, directing his attention back to you with a small smile.

“That sounds good,” you nodded, smiling as you followed him into the house and up the stairs. Along the way, you took note of all the decorations in the house. There were so many family pictures on the walls along with various other pictures. You lingered on one slightly, smiling at what appeared to be Gareth when he was younger with his parents. He was standing in front of their house in between his mom and dad with a toothless grin on his face, his hair was a mess, a fluffy mop on his head. You smiled softly, eyes flickering from the picture back to the boy in front of you. 

He stopped in front of a door that had a Metallica poster on the back and opened it, motioning for you to go first. You smiled at him, stepping into his room as you looked around. There were metal posters everywhere as well as pictures of him and his friends hanging on the wall. His dresser had a ton of little dragon figurines on it with a book that said Dungeons and Dragons Player’s Handbook. 

“Sorry, it’s kind of messy,” Gareth apologized, moving some of his clothes off of his bed. “I’m actually so terrible at putting my clothes away… very toxic trait of mine,” he mumbled, walking towards his closet. You giggled softly, watching him walk past you.

“Oh, mine too, it’s okay,” you smiled, watching him throw the clothes in his closet.

“You can take a seat on my bed, get comfy or whatever, we might be here for a bit.” He said, looking back at you. You glanced at his bed, taking note of the dark colored bedspread and blankets. You walked towards it, sitting gently. You grabbed your textbook and notebook from your bag, placing them on the bed in front of you as you grabbed a pen. You placed your bag down beside you and jumped when you felt the bed move, looking back to see a black cat staring at you curiously.

“Oh, hi,” you said softly, reaching out to pet the cat gently. Gareth closed his closet door and grabbed his notebook and textbook as well, looking back at his bed with a smile.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I probably should have warned you about him. You’re not like allergic or anything are you?” He asked, sitting next to you on his bed. You shook your head, scratching the cat behind his ears as he started purring, nuzzling against your leg. “Well, that’s Ozzy.” He smiled, “he’s kind of an attention whore.”

“Well, hi Ozzy,” you smiled, scratching his head more. “You are so cute, Gareth didn’t tell me he had such a cute little kitty friend at home.” Gareth smiled a little, watching you interact with Ozzy.

“I kind of forgot you’ve never been to my house, otherwise I would have warned you about Gracie too.” He said, opening his notebook to his most recent notes.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a sister either,” you nodded, looking at him with a small smile. “She’s cute, though. She looks just like you.”

“Yeah, I get that alot.” Gareth replied, setting his notebook down as he tapped his thighs for Ozzy. Ozzy meowed and walked towards him, jumping into his lap before he curled up in a ball, purring more. “She is definitely the cuter sibling.”

You giggled to yourself, looking at your notebook in front of you. You smiled as you glanced at his notebook and stopped in your tracks when you saw his notes on the page. More specifically, when you saw his handwriting on the notebook page. That consistent scribbly, slanted handwriting was staring at you, teasing you; taunting you and calling out to you. 

Why? Because you know you’ve seen it before.

In fact, you’ve seen that handwriting so often recently. And it was currently sitting in your folder on numerous pieces of paper as well as sitting in your car with a bright red rose. 

You glanced up at him, watching as he continued to pet Ozzy on his lap.

Holy shit.

Gareth Emerson was your secret admirer. 

You walked through the gym in your red ball gown, weaving through the groups of people. While you had come to this dance with Chrissy and Kate, they were off now dancing with their boyfriends. Which was fine, it just meant that you were now alone for the time being. 

You made your way towards the punch table, grabbing yourself a cup before you took in your surroundings. You glanced around the room, sipping on the punch. Your eyes landed on the one person you were looking for–Gareth Emerson. He was sitting alone at a table in the corner, messing with his tie. 

It had been about a month since you had realized that Gareth was the one supplying the letters in your locker. And, since that day, his letters haven't stopped… in fact, they have actually increased to coming daily. Sometimes even twice a day. You wondered if he knew that you knew who he was… if he did know that you knew, he was doing an amazing job at hiding it. If he didn’t know then… well, he was just crazy.

Because you had been wanting to say something to him ever since the eventful day when you first recognized his handwriting and found out who he was. You just never found the right time. At least, until tonight—prom night. For some reason, tonight seemed like the perfect time to tell him, to show him, to confess your mutual feelings that had been growing towards him since you started spending time with him one on one. 

It was prom after all, wasn’t tonight about love and relationships and all that other cheesy shit?

You smiled to yourself and grabbed another cup of punch carefully. You made your way towards the table Gareth was sitting at, taking a seat next to him. He looked up at you and smiled, “hey, you, uh, you look great,” Gareth said, taking in your appearance. He smiled softly as he watched the red lace fabric hug your upper body and curves before it flowed into a poofy ball gown skirt at your hips. Damn, you looked too good in that, and red was always his favorite color. Curse you for picking up on that and for wearing it specifically for him.

“Thanks,” you smiled, setting both cups of punch down on the table. “You clean up pretty well too, you know.” You giggled, looking at him. “I have to admit, I’m pretty surprised you’re here. School dances don’t seem like your kind of thing. But, I brought you some punch.” 

Gareth blushed softly, shrugging as his fingers continued to play with the end of his red tie. “Thanks. And, I had to wear this suit somewhere, you know?” He replied, looking up at you. “Are you… uh, all alone tonight?” He asked, his right hand moving towards the cup of punch you placed in front of him. 

“Kind of,” you responded, looking at him with a smile. “I came with Kate and Chrissy but they’re with Jason and Billy.” You motioned towards your friends who were dancing with their boyfriends. You hung your purse on the edge of your chair before resting your arms on the table. You looked at Gareth with a smile on your face, “what about you?”

Gareth smiled, looking at you. “What about me?” He asked, taking a drink of the overly sweet punch you had brought him.

“I mean,” you smiled, “where are your friends? Or are you also all alone tonight?”

“Ah,” he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Kind of? Eddie is flirting with girls, trying to get someone to dance with him and, honestly, I’m not too sure where Jeff and Grant ended up…”

“And you’re not asking any girls to dance?” You asked, looking at Gareth. He looked up at you and shook his head.

“Oh, no, I don’t think any girl would want to dance with me anyways…”

“That’s not true,” you replied, “I bet there are plenty of girls that would like to dance with you.”

“Yeah, right,” Gareth shook his head. “Like who?”

You shrugged, smiling at him. “Good question.” You reached for your purse, pulling out a small piece of folded paper. You handed it to him and giggled softly.

He looked at you and raised an eyebrow, looking down at the folded piece of paper in his hand. He unfolded it carefully, looking at the contents carefully. 

Will you dance with me, my secret admirer? ♡

Gareth read the paper and looked up at you, turning a bright red. “How, uh… how did you know it was… me?” He asked softly, folding the paper back up. He tucked it into his jacket pocket gently, eyes on you again as he looked you up and down subtly. 

“Well, your handwriting during our History project kind of gave it away for me,” you giggled. “So, will you dance with me?” You asked, standing up. You placed your hand out for Gareth to grab, smiling when he stood up and placed his hand in yours.

“Of course I’ll dance with you,” he said softly, pulling you towards the dance floor just in time for a slow song. “Though, I must admit, I am terrible at dancing.” 

“Yeah, me too,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck gently. Gareth smiled softly, placing his hands on your hips gently. 

“You’re not like… I don’t know… weirded out by me placing those notes and stuff in your locker, are you?” He asked softly, pulling you closer to his body gently.

“No, not really… should I be?” You asked, smiling up at him. “If we’re being honest with each other, I have always had a tiny bit of a crush on you and I was secretly hoping you were the one planting all the letters for me…” 

“Really?” Gareth asked softly, swaying with you to the music. “Well, if we’re being honest with each other… the truth is I’ve had a crush on you for quite a while, and, I guess I was just… nervous that you wouldn't like a freak like me,” Gareth admitted softly, leaning closer to you.

“What do you mean?” You asked, moving your face closer to his.

“Well, you’re a cheerleader, I’m a freak… we just, don’t really go together, you know?” 

“Why are you calling yourself a freak?” You frowned. 

“Because, well, that’s kind of what I am? You’re popular and I’m just, well, a freak.”

“No,” you argued, shaking your head. “You’re really cool and really sweet and to be honest… being popular doesn’t mean anything. I like you for you, and truth is; I’d love to get to know the real you more.” 

“Really?” Gareth asked, smiling softly. 

“Really.”

“Well, uh, in that case,” Gareth said, leaning closer. “Can I… uh, can I kiss you?” He asked softly. 

“Please,” you replied. 

Gareth smiled and leaned in closer, placing his lips against yours softly. You smiled, kissing him back as your fingers played with his hair on the back of his neck gently. Gareth’s right hand moved up to your face, caressing your cheek softly as he pulled you closer to him with his left hand that was still placed in your hip. 

He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “Would you, maybe, uh, want to go out with me sometime?” He stuttered out softly, looking at you. 

“Absolutely.” You replied, leaving another soft kiss on his lips.

gareth tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @darkyuffie-blog ; @luveediary ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @bastardstevie ; @pupwrites ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia ; @the-unforgivenn ; @corrodedcorpses ; @potatoesenpaii ; @cowboylikemunson

[kickbackkanzaki]

The Dungeon Master and Chess Queen

You're the new student and chess captain at Hawkins High. When Eddie Munson asks you for tutoring you're certain you have him handled but you may have underestimated his strategy.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Warnings: Smut (18+), fingering (f receiving), slightly rough foreplay, hand job (m receiving), nudity, intercourse (p in v), swearing.

For the first time all week you were alone.

The library manager had seen an article about your win in Detroit and asked if you could do a chess presentation for the local children. She had left you the keys to lock up and drop in the returns slot when you were done but unfortunately none of the attendees had stayed to help pack up.

It hadn't paid anything and most of the kids had just enjoyed pushing the pieces around the board but it'd gotten you out of your suffocating house for a while.

Mrs Cunningham had decided not to press charges in light of your black eye and the psychiatrist had passed Dad but it had been a long week of bated breath.

Waiting for all that to resolve plus school and tutoring had nearly driven you to breaking point. Robin and Max had done their best to distract you but there was no real way to escape the terrifying potential outcomes that played out in your head all day and kept you awake at night.

"How much longer are you going to ignore me?"

The voice was too deep for a child and too loud for a library goer.

Eddie stood behind you scowling and you swore silently. His posture was rigid and his hands balled into fists like he was ready for a fight.

His eyes scanned you as you stood frozen and lingered on your shocked face. The bruising around your eye had lightened to yellow which you hid with cosmetics but Eddie could still see the mark.

His expression softened a little at the injury but you couldn't accept his pity. You'd hurt him too badly to deserve it.

"Go away Eddie," you ordered.

"Oh good you do know my name," he said sarcastically. "I thought you might have forgotten it after a week of dodging me at school."

"I blew you. Big deal. Get over it."

You sounded as cruel as possible to make him go. You wanted him to believe you didn't care, that what happened in your room was a dumb mistake to be forgotten and he didn't matter to you.

"Look me in the eye and say that."

You couldn't. You adored those warm emotive eyes and couldn't endure the pain that would show in them after your vehement words.

"Get lost already," you told him and turned around to end the conversation.

You tried packing away the chess pieces but your shaking fingers fumbled and some fell out their bag. A wayward pawn rolled across the table and you reached for it when Eddie covered your hand and slammed it down on the piece.

You gasped at the harsh contact and stared at the large hand holding yours in place. The trapped pawn was imprinting on your palm and Eddie's rings were hot against your skin. Your fingers felt so brittle and small under the masculine hold that you kept them still.

Eddie wrapped his free arm around your middle and pressed himself against your back. A few strands of his mane fell on your face tickling your cheek as he inhaled the scent of your hair.

Your free hand grabbed his jacket sleeve and you breathed through your mouth so you wouldn't smell the intoxicating aroma of him.

"Let go."

You meant to sound commanding but the words came out feeble.

"I can't. You're tearing me in two when you wont see me."

His emotional words were muffled as he spoke into your neck and you quivered under his hot breath on your skin.

You'd been wanting this so badly since you'd run out your room that day. For him to hold you tight and protect you from all the mayhem flying around you.

To just forget everything for a while and feel whole with someone who made you feel wonderful.

"I'm a mess Eddie," you confessed weakly and tried to wiggle your trapped hand free.

"We all are baby," Eddie replied and with his free hand turned your neck so he could kiss you.

Your lips touched and you grabbed his wrist, not to stop him but to make sure he didn't leave. Your resolve to be alone had evaporated in his warm kiss and you no longer had the ability to feign coldness.

You craned your neck to deepen the kiss and parted your lips to let your tongue search for his. Eddie released your hand to use both of his to cup your face and you turned into his hold.

No more hiding.

Your hands wandered down his flat belly and you slipped your fingertips between the denim and tucked death metal singlet.

Suddenly Eddie wrapped his arms under your backside and lifted you onto the table. You gave a squeal of surprise and blinked with wide eyes at his hungry smile.

"You're not getting the upper hand this time darling," he declared and pulled your head back with a sharp yank on your braid.

A heat flared in you at his roughness and when he pulled away from the next kiss you held his bottom lip between your teeth for an extra second.

You made a playful snapping noise and he answered with a low growl before diving in for more.

Eddie Munson wanted to rip your clothes off right there in the public library and that was fine by you.

His unoccupied hand stroked the stretch of skin between your knee high sock and skirt then slid upwards. You felt the fingers journeying towards your middle and you parted your legs to ease their way.

His mouth was busy working along your neck, nipping the erogenous flesh making you pant with anticipation. You felt Eddie's thumb push on your clitoris and you let out a mewling sound as a jolt went through your body.

"Are you going to purr kitten?" Eddie teased in your ear and slipped one of his long fingers under your thin underwear.

"Kitten wants to come," was your sultry reply.

Eddie's finger stroked the outer lining of your entrance until it was moist and practically quaking for more.

You gasped as the first finger entered your tight opening and Eddie bit your neck at the same time, tearing you between two passionate acts.

"Fucker," you puffed and loosened his belt.

"You love it," he accused and sighed a little when the pressure on his groin eased by the opened pants.

You lifted one knee to rest your heel on the table edge and Eddie slipped another finger in. You groaned appreciatively and started to pump his liberated cock in time with his ministrations.

Eddie made a familiar noise of elation as his member grew in your hand and for a moment your stomach swirled with regret about your bedroom encounter.

It only took a second of looking in Eddie's eyes to know this wasn't a repeat.

The way he was watching you with adoration made you bashful, you'd never been physical with someone who liked you before.

Sex had always been functional for you - a way to exchange intimate energy or release pent up frustration.

Eddie didn't want to use you as a disposable outlet. He was expressing genuine affection for the first person he'd found interesting in a long time.

Your sexy rebel routine and intelligence had hooked him at first but it was the compassion you showed for your loved ones that made him fall.

No one could give so much of themselves to others if they weren't sincere.

"Ah! Ah! Stop!"

Your sudden cry of pain ceased his attentions and he looked at your wince perplexed.

"What's wrong?" he asked alarmed.

"Rings!"

The tiny points on the carved jewellery had scratched your sensitive wall making you recoil.

Eddie's throat dried slightly with embarrassment and there was a damp noise as he carefully pulled his fingers from your hot centre. Their sudden withdraw left you dismal, mourning the potential for more.

The elastic in your underwear made a small pop noise as it fell back into place as if sealing you from further pleasures.

"Sorry! I'll take them off just a sec baby."

Eddie started twisting the demented dragons and demons off his fingers then nearly dropped them when they slipped on his lubricated tips.

"Eddie," you said quickly looking around. "I'm not sure the kid's section is the best place for this."

In the momentary lapse of passion you could suddenly smell the stale books and unvacuumed carpet of the public library. The exaggerated smiles and wide eyes of illustrated animals on the children's story books unnerved you as you held Eddie's cock tight.

"Do they still have those beanbags in General Fiction?"

"Eddie!"

"You're right let's get out of here."

Reluctantly you relinquished your hold on his manhood and pulled his underwear back up. The appendage looked farcical now, far too large for the garment with precum making a puddle on the fabric.

It took two seconds for Eddie to buckle up and pull you away from the scattered chess sets. The librarian would give you hell but you would make up some family emergency excuse.

Eddie barely let you lock the door he was in such haste to get you in his van. The return slot hadn't even closed before he dragged you down the stairs and around the corner where he'd parked.

It had been a lovely day when you'd dressed this morning and decided to walk into town but now the grey clouds were seconds away from opening.

Eddie went to unlock the back door of his van when you gave him a playful shove.

"I don't think so Munson!" you cried indignantly but smiled.

"Oh?" Eddie threw his hands up in mock offence. "I'm sorry madame, do you think you're better than that?"

"Yes I am!" there was laughter on your voice as you pulled Eddie by his vest and kissed him hard. "You shit."

"You adore me babe," he boasted when you finished and the first few drops of rain landed on his wild hair.

Needing no further encouragement you climbed into the passenger seat and Eddie turned the engine over. The stereo came alive blasting your eardrums with death metal and you recoiled violently as Eddie quickly turned the volume dial.

"Sorry babe," he apologised sheepishly, "not used to passengers."

"I felt that in my fillings," you whined rubbing your jaw.

"Soon you'll be feeling me everywhere," Eddie said slyly and received a smack on the arm.

By the time the van pulled up at Eddie's trailer the rain was hammering down.

"Wayne's at a buddy's today watching the game," Eddie assured you as he pulled the handbrake up. "We've got the place to ourselves for a few hours."

The two of you made a mad dash for the door through the pouring rain and stumbled inside laughing. The downpour and cold wind had exhilarated you both into a giddy state.

Your hands had gone icy from the rain but Eddie's were warm from driving and you obeyed his tug towards his room.

You'd never been in Eddie's bedroom but it was about what you'd imagined. Messy as yours but instead of books he had cassette tapes and Rolling Stone magazines scattered over every surface.

You spied the guitar hanging on the wall and stepped closer to inspect it.

"That's my other girl but she's no threat to you," Eddie told you as he threw some clutter off his bed.

"This is no girl. She is a queen!" you exclaimed and marveled at the amazing shape and colour of the instrument.

Eddie wrestled his tangled bedcovers into a more a more presentable state then tried to pull you down to join him.

"Slow down, slow down."

Instead of crashing on the mattress you pulled him to up to stand in front of you. Taking a moment to stay still in the tiny room as rain thundered on the roof.

"What's the matter baby?"

Eddie watched you carefully as you slipped his wet jacket off gently and hung it over the desk chair.

"Nothing," you assured him and slowly wrapped your arms under his. "I just want us to take our time. Enjoy ourselves."

The truth was you couldn't survive another fuck up.

If things didn't go exactly right this time there wouldn't be another chance. You were too scared your teenage sexual blunders would tarnish the enjoyment and leave you both regretting the whole experience.

Eddie joined his arms around you and the two of you rocked gently to the steady beat of precipitation. You rested your cheek against his singlet enjoying the softness of the dark cotton and the thudding of his heart against your ear.

Eddie fell in step with your slower stride and rested his chin on your head.

You stayed that way for a little while like a couple of middle schoolers at the Snow Ball. It dawned on Eddie you'd never done anything as sweet as hug, before the oral in your bedroom you'd only performed petting for the school population.

The two of you had jumped from illusion to reality without pausing in the middle to talk and take time with each other.

"You know babe," Eddie said brushing some loose hair away from your face. "We don't have to this if you want to wait. We can watch a movie or just hang out and listen to some tunes. You could use a lesson in metal."

You pulled your face away from his chest so you could look up at his handsome face.

"I want to," you confirmed softly with an easy smile. "Just not the way we have been."

"Me too," Eddie spoke quickly to assure you he was still on board. "It's just that I want you to know, this isn't something I usually do. I don't fool around I mean, not sex I have sex, just not with someone I really like and I really like you."

"That's good," his words were both a relief and a joy to hear. "Because I really like you Eddie Munson."

You kissed each other nice and slow taking time to learn the contours and texture of each other's mouths. No frenzied rush to get to the next stage or urgent groping.

You gently worked your fingertips under his waistline and pushed his singlet up keeping your palms against his smooth skin as he raised his arms to assist.

Eddie had a complexion a model would envy. His impartiality to outdoor activities kept him out of the sun and covered in heavy clothes. The black ink of his tattoos stood out boldly on his flat chest and you took your time examining them before you kissed each one.

"Like 'em sweetheart?" Eddie asked as he ran a finger down the back of your neck lightly.

"You're a canvas," you giggled and traced your fingers over your favourite ones.

The texture of your shirt on Eddie's middle was mildly irritating and he started to pull the hem upwards. You allowed it and he mirrored the gentle pace you'd undressed him.

He'd of course seen you topless before but his admiration was different this time. Then he had devoured your uncovered skin voraciously but this time he was controlled, brushing his fingers along your arms and collarbones like a jeweller studying a gem.

Your skin responded by breaking into goosebumps and you moved closer to steal his heat. You were used to intimacy being sloppy and rushed because you'd never had the privilege of time, liaisons for you were typically opportunistic.

"Ok baby?" Eddie asked and you nodded. Even now you couldn't admit you felt vulnerable.

"Maybe we should warm up?" you suggested and motioned towards the bed.

The thin walls of the trailer did little to insulate but it wasn't warmth you craved right now. You wanted touch uninhibited by clothing.

Eddie sat on his bed and held his arms open for you to fill. Your bra was feeling restrictive so you quickly unclipped it and tossed it across the room.

Eddie's brown eyes latched onto your breasts following them as you sat next to him and swung your legs onto the bed.

He looped an arm under your back to support you as you held onto his shoulder with one hand and buried your other in his unruly hair.

Eddie took to this new arrangement with enthusiasm and ran a hand under your panties making the elastic flick against your arse playfully.

"Tease," you said against his mouth as you broke apart for a moment.

"That's your name," he countered and dove back in for more.

You knew Eddie liked your arse since he was always smacking it playfully when he passed you in the hall.

He squeezed your hip making fingerprints on your muscular backside then ran his thumb across your pelvis until it rested on your clitoris.

Your mouth opened and you made a little 'oh' noise as he began making circular motions on the sensitive spot.

"Tell me what you like."

"Just keep doing what you're doing."

"Come on tell me. Fast or slow?"

Eddie was getting anxious now because he'd stepped into new territory. He'd only had sex with older women at the community college a few towns over when he'd gone to sell merch at parties.

Those women always latched onto him and did what they wanted without verbalising but Eddie never complained because he'd always achieved release. In a way it was more business than pleasure.

He didn't want to be that way with you because he wanted you to feel as good as you could make him feel. He needed your guidance to do that though.

"A little faster," you said with a small lump in your throat, "and a bit more force."

Eddie complied and your hips bucked involuntary at the surge that shot through you.

"Good?" he asked needlessly.

You nodded and he pulled you upwards again to continue kissing.

The pleasure building in your core was sending tremors down your legs and your feet slid back and forth on the bedspread. It had been a long time since you'd last indulged and you'd forgotten how intense it could be.

Eddie had musician's touch so his thumb played you until high whimpers escaped your lips.

"Wait a sec," you said suddenly halting his hand.

"What's the matter baby?" he asked as he kissed your cheeks and neck. "Don't you want to come?"

"I do," you replied positively. "With you."

You gently pushed him on his back so you were lying side by side on the single bed. The space was tight but you would have kept close even if you'd had the room to stretch.

"Have you got something?" you asked and kissed his ear.

Eddie reached for the nightstand and ran his hands through the draw without taking his lips off you. His blind groping produced a handful of guitar picks and other useless assortments until you lost your patience and rolled on top of him to see for yourself.

You found the condoms and ripped one off the strip before passing it to Eddie.

"Know what to do?" you asked seriously.

This was one thing you couldn't afford to fuck up.

"That was the one Health class I showed up for," Eddie answered and opened the wrapper.

You helped pull his pants off then tickled his feet when you took off his socks. You got a playful kick for your mischief and when his cock was sheathed you crawled up the bed and squeezed it hard.

"How do you want me?" you asked.

"Can I," there was a beat of hesitation, "get on top?"

Eddie's experience with college girls had all been with him seated while they went wild on top of him. It had been great but he'd never been in charge.

"Sure," you said sensing his trepidation and gently encouraged him to roll you over.

You sank into the weary mattress as Eddie climbed on top and you could feel some of the fire dying down. The engagement had gone from passionate to perfunctory because of nerves.

Eddie rocked a little bit as he figured where to put his hands while you grabbed his cock and rubbed the covered tip on your entrance before lining it up.

Eddie looked at you silently until you nodded then pushed into you hard.

He didn't hurt you but the lack of style and dryness of the condom caused you to pull a face that made Eddie panic.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked in a tight voice.

"No just go slower," you advised.

"Are you sure? I can stop?" Eddie was beginning to spiral into doubt.

This was not how things went in the videos he'd watched, those people never fumbled. They slipped straight in and had the girls screaming after a few thrusts.

You shifted your hips a fraction and wrapped your legs around his waist so your ankles crossed. Eddie let out a little noise as he sank deeper into you and you caught his chin forcing him to look at you.

"Take your time," you told him firmly but kindly.

Eddie didn't reply but started to rock his hips against yours until you settled into a matching speed. His hair had fallen like a curtain over your faces so you bunched it together and rested a hand against his cheek, thumb dragging along his bottom lip.

"You feel good darling," he puffed and you hummed appreciatively.

He felt good too and you were getting slicker with every thrust. Eddie was gaining confidence and you wanted to take things up a notch.

You took a breath to tighten your core then pulled your pelvic muscles to clench around his cock.

"Jesus Christ!" Eddie yelled and nearly lost his rhythm. "What the hell was that?"

"Did you like that?" asked biting your lip naughtily.

"Do it again!"

You laughed at him and tightened yourself causing Eddie to pull a face of sheer ecstasy as his thrusts got faster and rougher. Your feet were bouncing against his small backside and the poor bedframe sounded ready to split.

"Baby I'm not gonna last," he puffed and looked at you with desperation. He knew you hadn't come. "You're so fucking tight."

"Move with me," you said quickly and you awkwardly rolled together until you were reversed.

"I came out," Eddie puffed as he looked down to see his cock now slickened with your moisture pointing at the roof.

That didn't happen in those videos either -those people stayed together like industrial glue.

"I got ya," you said and took a firm grip before lowering yourself down on him.

During foreplay you'd forgotten to take your skirt off and it bunched around your hips as Eddie filled you from underneath.

It was your turn to pull amusing faces as this new position allowed his cock to reach you in a spot that itched for attention.

"Mmm, mmm," you managed as you felt the tip tickle your center.

"What's that sweetheart?" Eddie asked teasingly and you swatted his decorated chest.

Fuck his smart mouth you wanted to come. You had forgotten how good this could be and in that moment you were oblivious to the burdens that weighed you down.

You were alone with someone who made you feel alive and happy every second you were with him.

Eddie felt more confident in this familiar position and squeezed your hips as you ground into him.

"Come on, get it," he growled and dug his thumbnails into your skin.

Your high socks chaffed your knees as you rocked back and forth viciously greedy for satisfaction. The two of you had found your perfect synch and you rode him furiously for the pleasure to consume you.

Eddie's nails were clawing up your back leaving red marks and he was swearing with every roll of your wet centre. He wouldn't last much longer but you weren't ready to release him yet.

You still needed him.

"Here! Here!" you yelled and pushed his fingers into your clitoris as you rocked him mercilessly.

Eddie rubbed your bud vigourously and yelled with you as he tried to contain his own orgasm.

"Eddie! Fuck! Yes!" You felt an unmistakable sensation rising as all the stimulations clashed together then you screamed as the first burst rippled through you.

You slammed into Eddie with each wave of your orgasm and screamed so loud you didn't hear him curse out his ejaculation.

For that minute you weren't a student, a chess champion or a dutiful daughter. You were a girl getting fucked hard and you embraced it with every iota of your being.

You rode him until you were sure the sublime sensations had passed and your pelvis came to rest. Beneath you Eddie puffed as he rubbed the red marks he had made on your back and you stroked the sweat from his handsome face.

Every so gently you separated yourself and wedged yourself between him and the wall. Your head made a cushion of Eddie's shoulder and the dry sheets absorbed the sweat from your skin sending a sudden chill through you.

You snuggled closer and laid a soft hand on Eddie's flat stomach, watching it rise and fall with his laboured breaths.

"It's official sweetheart," he puffed after a little while, "you have fucked The Freak of Hawkins High."

You didn't answer and Eddie figured you were ignoring his dumb joke. He was too lost in orgasmic high to keep playing and instead tried to get everything straight in his head.

One day you meet the boss of an underground book cartel, give her ten bucks to play chess, swap some witty banter then she winds up in your bed giving you the time of your young life.

It made perfect sense right?

A tiny whimper floated to his ears and he looked over to see you crying silently on his shoulder.

"Hey, hey, what's this?" he said reaching over. "I was just being stupid."

He wiped your tears away with his big thumbs and made you look at him.

"No it's alright," you said as you moved into an embrace. "I'm just really happy."

[stevesgother]

emmmm!!!!!!!! in honour of valentines day, I humbly and urgently request reader and steve getting ready for a date together, but steve can't keep his hands off of them 🤭 all the kissy touchy undressy pls! <3333333333333

CHLOE UGH i love this

anything for u my darling

18+ under the cut

You never needed to beg or plead for the bare minimum from your boyfriend like you had with lovers in the past.

Steve loved Valentine's Day. It was the one day a year where he could well and truly spoil you without you bashfully insisting that he 'really didn't have to'. If it were up to him, he'd bring you home a new gold pendant and a bouquet of a dozen red roses every night when he got home from work-- but he spared you for the fear of being "too much". He'd never had a partner that appreciated him so much as you did.

Standing in front of your shared bathroom's mirror, you were attempting to apply your lipstick. Your dinner reservation was in a mere thirty minutes, and your boyfriend was absolutely insatiable.

"Steve, I can't put this one when you're moving me," you groaned.

"Can't help it, baby-- you just look so damn good," his words are muffled as he shoves his face further into the junction where your neck meets your shoulder. You can feel his erection pressing incessantly into your backside as you bent slightly over the counter to get a closer look at your lips.

He'd been like this since the moment you put on that dress-- the dress that he bought for you to wear, no less. He'd presented it to you in a neatly wrapped gift box with a bow on top.

'We have a reservation at Enzo's for seven, picked you up something pretty to wear, too.'

He just hadn't anticipated you looking so fucking sexy in it. He thinks it might even be borderline obscene. Especially with that dainty little 'S' charm hanging in the valley between your breasts.

He was pressing hot, wet kisses to the vein that ran along the side of your neck; one he was well acquainted with.

"Baby, we're gonna be late,"

"I'll drive fast," he breathes.

"Steve--"

"I need you, honey, I'm not gonna be able to make it through dinner," he chuckles, his deft fingers move under the hem of your dress and he pulls at it before letting it snap back into place on your thighs, "jus' wanna take you right here over this counter."

You can't help the whimpery moan that his words elicit from you, and you know immediately that that's what breaks him.

His hand moves to cup your heat over the lace panties you had worn with the notion that he's be ripping them off of you later-- and despite how'd you been trying to play it cool, the wetness pooling there betrays you.

"So wet f'me, baby," his free hand grips you by the jaw and maneuvers you to face him. He kisses you with an urgency you don't have the privilege of experiencing very often. Steve's always been a fantastic kisser, but you love it when he kisses you like it's the last time he'll ever get to. It's passionate and deep; his tongue delving past your lips to dance with your own.

At some point in the last minute or two he had pulled your underwear to the side; seemingly too impatient to take them all the way off. The tips of his index and middle fingers circle your puffy clit, causing a whine to slip past your lips.

He's trying to get you ready for him, always the gentleman, but you can tell he's extra needy tonight. You push the plush of you ass back against his hardness and he all but growls into your ear.

You hear the clinking of him hurriedly unbuckling his belt, and before you know it, the blushing red head if his cock is sliding through your wet folds collecting the wetness there.

"Oh--Steve," you drawl.

"I need you, baby-- is this okay?"

"Yes Steve, please,"

There's no easing into it like there usually is. All at once you feel the entirety of his length sheathed into you and it takes every ounce of strength in your body not to cry out at the sensation. He's taking your face in the hand that doesn't have a death grip on the fat of your hip and forcing you to face the mirror again.

"Want you to look at yourself while I fuck you, such a little slut f'me, huh?"

The hand on your face makes it's way around to grab a fist full of your hair, keeping your head up despite the urge to let your head fall. Your tits bounce with the force of his hips plowing into you, and you know you'll be sore in the morning.

"Touch yourself, baby-- I'm close,"

You do as you're told, moving your hand south to play with your bundle of nerves where your underwear's been hastily pushed to the side. The pressure of the head of Steve's cock hitting that spongey spot deep inside you combined with the added sensation on your clit has the knot in your lower belly tightening.

"Steve!" You cry out. The thought of your upstairs neighbors briefly crosses your mind, but not enough for you to quiet your chants of his name.

"You gonna come? I can feel you, baby, let go. I've got you," he wraps a toned arm around your waist to pull you flush to him. This was his favorite way to finish-- every inch of your body in contact with every inch of his. Steve may be the more domineering partner in your relationship, but he'll forever be a sap at heart. Especially for you.

"Gonna come-- Steve! Inside me please, want you to finish inside,"

"H-oh fuck-- baby--"

You feel him tense inside you seconds before you're flooded with the warmth of him filling you to the brim. Logically, you both know you're on birth control, but even the idea of Steve knocking you up makes him finish almost instantly. Every single time. It's like his kryptonite.

He rides out his high with a few more harsh thrusts before he's pulling out and moving your underwear back in place.

"Wait-- I need to clean up," you start but he interrupts as he's buckling his belt.

"You're gonna go to dinner like that, and then when we get home later, I'm gonna fuck it back into you. That sound good?"

You're left speechless at how casually he says it. Leave it to Steve to work you up like this, and then act like he didn't just rock your world.

"Uh huh," you respond, a little dumbly.

"Good." He smiles so earnestly it makes you melt a little, "Jesus, baby, your lipsticks a mess. Better fix it while I start the car, yeah?"

You laugh, swatting his chest, but he just bends at the waist to give you a smacking kiss to your sweaty cheek as if he isn't the sole reason you look so disheveled.

"Steven!"

"Love you!" He calls over his shoulder as he runs from you.

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad when you had him.

[crappymixtape]

among the stars • part one

PART I • PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V • PART VI ❝ summer ended and everyone went back to school or to indianapolis for ‘real’ jobs – steve’s friends practically begged him to come to the city with them at the end of the summer, couch surf in their apartment until he finds work, but he decides to stay until one rainy night in october something happens – someone happens – and it changes the course of his life forever • 18+ | ( 1.3k, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, smut, extraterrestrials, steve x reader )

B U R N I N G I N T H E D A R K 🎶 oneonta, the album leaf

Rain was coming down in sheets, gathering in the street drains clogged with leaves and filling with water, the yellow quilt-striped center lines drowned out and leaving the road black. A clap of thunder shook the picture frames on the walls of Steve’s apartment, the glass window panes flexing creakily, pulling him up from his spot on the couch as his lamp flickered.

The worst storm Hawkins had seen in years, and of course it hit on Halloween night, scattering any hopes of trick-or-treating into the howling wind.

Pressing a hand to his window, Steve watched the stand of trees at the property line bend like rubber. “Christ…” he murmured, his breath fogging the glass as his eyes narrowed, struggling to see anything out there in the thick, black night.

Ring, ring, ring!

“Shit–”

Steve jumped at the landline jingling from the kitchen wall, heart hammering against his ribcage as he grabbed it off the base, “Hello?”

“Steve? Why do you sound like you just shit yourself?” Robin’s voice crackled through static from the storm.

“I didn’t just shit myself–”

“Do you see this outside?? It’s insane!”

“Yeah, yeah. I see it.”

“On Halloween too! Do you think it’s a curse or something? A witch coming back from the dead to wipe our sorry asses off the planet for burning her at the stake?”

“Robin.”

“Oh! Or that weird guy that lives in the creepy house over by the park? Maybe he’s been like…haunted by a poltergeist or something and it’s telling him to possess our bodies and–”

“Robin.”

“What?”

“It’s just a storm,” Steve said, trying to sound unbothered and completely unaffected by her farfetched theories, but something in the way the wind howled around the corner of his apartment made his skin crawl.

“O-kayyy,” Robin teased in her sing-songy voice, “But when your door gets busted down by some slimy green swamp thing don’t come crying to me.”

“Swamp thing? Robin, you gotta stop watching–”

CRACK!

Lightning split the sky in two, a perfectly blinding fracture, and made it look like the daylight for a second before plunging everything into dark.

“Ste-eve, are-are you st-still th-ere?” Robin’s voice crackled over the line, cutting out as another flash spidered across the horizon.

“What? Robin, you’re cutting out–”

“Can’t-can’t he-ear yo-ou, Ste-e-ve, Ste–”

BOOM!

Another blinding flash of light lit up the dark like the other two, but this one was different. Just as the phone line cut out, a crash sounded followed by an explosion – a bright, orange, burning glow in the trees out Steve’s window.

“What the hell–”

Shielding his eyes with his arm, he could feel the heat coming from the fire that was catching in the dead leaves on the ground, licking up the bare tree trunks. His eyes slowly adjusted against the harsh contrast and the longer he looked the more he realized it hadn’t been a normal lightning strike.

There, at the end of a deep groove cut into the dirt, was a small aircraft of some kind. The windshield was busted out and just a couple feet away from the fire was a body.

And they were moving.

“Oh, shit. Oh, god. Shit, shit, shit–I’m coming! I’m coming!” Steve yelled into his apartment, scrambling to shove his feet into his beat up Blazers, jacket only half-on as he grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen and barreled down the stairs out into the trees.

“Hey! Can you hear me? Hang on! I’m coming! I’m coming!”

Stumbling over fallen branches and overgrown blackberries, Steve felt the thorns ripping at his jacket, one particularly nasty one smarting across his cheek, but he couldn’t stop, he was almost there. He could see the person struggling to pull themselves up against a tree trunk, trying to get to safety.

The fire was huge now, engulfing the aircraft in angry, white-hot flames, and the heat was overwhelming, suffocating and pressing in on every part of him. If there was any gas left, there’d be another, bigger, explosion, and soon based on when it’d crashed. He had to get whoever it was to safety.

Tripping on a root, Steve caught himself just as he reached the crash site.

“Shit–how’d you make it out of there? There’s hardly anything left of it–Jesus–this is bad, this is really bad–” he rambled, the words spilling from his mouth as he watched the flames, panic surging through him like a livewire.

A whimper of pain pulled his attention back to the survivor and he shook himself into action, this was not the time for overthinking.

Scrambling over to the tree, Steve crouched down next to the stranger, holding his flashlight overhead to get a better look at their wounds, and he nearly dropped it at the sight before him.

Long turquoise hair, like seaglass and the glittering water down at the quarry, skin tinged purple, shimmering and soft like moths wings in the beam of light, and ears that tapered into points at the ends. They were wearing what looked like a space suit of sorts, but it was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Made from fabric darker than ink and covered in tiny grids of light, blinking in reds and yellows, error, caution, alert.

Leaning in closer, Steve gently pushed stray locks of hair aside and suddenly it felt like the fire had made its way under his skin, but softer. Warmer. Glowing. Strange and curious and he couldn’t help reaching out a hand, his fingertips ghosting over cheeks dotted in indigo freckles, tiny constellations he felt an overwhelming urge to discover.

“Who are you…” he whispered, eyes catching the fragile flutter of a heartbeat at their neck, “…where did you come from?”

And the low, warmth of his voice slowly lifted your eyes open.

Someone, a someone not like you, was close.

Too close.

Danger.

Danger.

Your brain told your arm to move, grab the pod from your thigh pocket, but when your shoulder flexed, pain shot through your arm, sharp and stabbing as little pinpoints of light clouded your vision. Someone was screaming, and when the being hovering over you started to panic, you realized it was you.

You were screaming.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa–okay, Jesus, okay. I’m here to help, I’m Steve. Did you break your shoulder? Is it your arm maybe? Can you move your fingers? Shit–what would Nancy do? Dammit–”

A loud pop! sounded from the pile of wreckage and you both flinched, as this ‘Steve’ shielded you from the angry embers with his body.

“We gotta get out of here, can you walk?” Steve asked, but another crack! from the flames pushed him to stop asking questions and just move. “I’m so sorry, you can hit me for this later,” he apologized, shoving the light from his hand into his pocket and scooping you up into his arms, holding you tight to his chest.

Another earsplitting scream cut the air in two as your whole body cried out in pain and the last thing you heard before losing consciousness was Steve.

I’m so sorry. It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna get help. It’ll be okay. I promise. I promise.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART ONE OF A ??? PART SERIES – MORE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[vanillebunny]

hellooo!! can u pls write for steve harrington?? i'm thinking where he got with reader as a rebound for nancy but then he realizes its much more than that but by the time he does you already realized and left like an angsty thing

warnings: i think none? but please tell me if there are.

you've always known steve harrington, ever since you were a kid. steve 'the hair' harrington, king of hawkins, ladies man--as everyone thought. to you though, he was just steve, the neighbor next door.

being neighbors with steve wasn't always easy, or quiet even. from the constant parties to the endless nights with every woman in hawkins. you'd be a lucky if you got a good nights sleep for once. your mom didn't really hear it much, not like she was ever home to.

if there was one thing you had in common with steve, it was the lack of life in your house. only for steve, he was always replacing it with having someone over whenever he possibly can, while you just stayed home alone.

not like you were never invited, it was kind of a given since you'd know about it anyway, might as well be invited. but you never came. not like it mattered. but after some time, the parties...stopped. everything became calm, and steve was like...not a douchebag anymore. everyone said it was cause of nancy wheeler, the princess. she was perfect. not a single flaw to her

you'd always see her come around, she was pretty. you couldn't lie. but damn did something about her rub you the wrong way. it was always like this, up until you knew about the big breakup

you were home as usual, and had taken your walkman to go walk at night like you usually did, but when you left your house, you saw steve on your porch, sitting silently. it didn't even seem like he was coming to talk or something, he just sat there for no reason.

"i think you got it mixed up" you spoke up, going down a few steps to where he was sitting, "your house is next door, not here" you say with furrowed eyebrows. but he didn't even look at you, he was just sat there.

"you probably already heard." he says and just keeps looking ahead, "nancy left me"

you in fact did not hear. "oh." was all that came out of you, you sigh and just sit beside him, placing the walkman beside you. "thats...weird. why? i thought you two were happy" you say and he just scoffs

"bullshit, apparently. all of it. should've known...im an idiot. girl like her, as if that would last" he mutters, more to himself than you

"hey, what?" you say, shaking your head quickly, "that's so wrong, steve. like--very wrong. you're a great guy, steve. i mean like...now--you became a great guy. and if she didn't see that and thought it's all bullshit then she's not worth it" you say, and he--finally looks at you.

"you really think so?" he asks, and you hesitate for a moment, before nodding.

"yeah, of course steve" you say, it was quiet for a while, the two of you just looking around, up until you got up and went back inside. he sighs to himself, thinking you left, until you came back with a pair of headphones. you sat back down beside him and grabbed the walkman again, plugging in a second pair of headphones, you hand him it.

he looks at you, hesitating for a moment before taking it, the two of you sat there quietly just listening to music. it was the very first time you two had even had a proper conversation--or even interaction together ever since you were kids.

ever since then, you two were always stopping by each others houses--even driving home or to school since you were both heading the same way. you got close quickly, and as much as you didnt expect it, you genuinely really liked it

you knew he changed, but you thought it was just a look. but he actually did, he was funny, really considerate and nice. you found yourself...actually feeling things for him. you always brushed it off, but to your luck, steve was a very expressive person, so he made sure to let you know he liked you back

it was all great, you didn't feel so lonely anymore. and you two were just...such a good pair. some would say even better than nancy. and you liked to think so too, until one day, you were heading to the basketball court to go see your boyfriend as usual. until you overheard tommy h and a few other guys talking to themselves, steve must've been in the locker room or something.

"how the hell are harrington and that girl together, i mean i don't get it--he and miss perfect break up, and he's already with the next girl? i don't buy it." tommy says, and one of them chimes in

"my girl says they love each other, it's total bull. we all know the real reason harrington's with her, she's a rebound. i mean--how do you get over a girl like nancy? you got a have at least a few replacements before finally moving on"

what? replacements? no--that's not right. you're sure steve likes you, genuinely likes you...right? it's not true, he's not that kind of guy. he wouldn't be using you like that, right?

you shake your head and quickly storm off, tears brewing in your eyes. you've been alone for so long, maybe you just didn't notice how he was using you? maybe you just jumped at the first chance to be with someone, so desperate?

that same day, steve was knocking and knocking on your door, when you didn't answer, he sighed and sat on the porch. for hours. waiting and waiting.

"baby i know something's wrong...please talk to me. don't...don't do this." he says as he knocks on your door one more time. he hears footsteps coming from the road, he quickly steps down the porch and rushes to the footsteps, hoping it was you.

he slows down as he sees nancy there. he furrows his eyebrows. what the hell was she doing here?

"what do you want?" he says and she just looks at him

"steve let's talk..." she says and he quickly shakes his head

"no...no absolutely not. i don't wanna have anything to do with you, don't you understand that nancy?" he says, while he's talking, you were opening the front door since you thought it's been too long.

to his luck, you were just behind him when he was talking to nancy.

"fine, fine you're right okay? i did get with her as a rebound...to--to forget you. is that what you wanted to hear?" he says and everything else quiets down in your head, they were right. they were all right. he doesn't like you, love you. he never did. how could he? you slowly walk away, your eyes distant and your face paling. how could you be so stupid to think something could ever work out for you?

but while you were lost in your own head, steve was still talking to nancy.

"but it's not like that anymore. don't you get that? i don't love you anymore, i don't even want to see your face. i wake up in the morning and the first thing i want to do is see her, she's so much better than you could ever be. i don't need you anymore, alright? you have to go nancy" he says and shakes his head, walking back to your front door, completely ignoring nancy's pleading for him to hear her out

"baby? you in there? please come out and talk to me" he sighs as he knocks on your door, but you were already gone. you had gone through the backdoor, he was gonna use you to forget some girl? you'll do worse. you were already on your way to the trailer park, tears in your eyes. you wanted to hurt him just like he hurt you, and what other way to do that other than be with the guy he hates more than anything?

a/n: hey guys i think this mightve been my worst work yet but ummm im posting it anyway, also i wanted to make it more sad but then it kind of turned into a revenge thing so idk, hope u enjoy thoo! <333