#and dad!steve??? you know the way to my heart
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Heart On Your Sleeve Part 3
Part 1 | Part 2
written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!
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Dustin shows up at his house the next morning.
"You have a concussion," Dustin says when Steve answers the door.
Steve squints at him. "Did you get your medical license when I wasn't looking?"
Dustin rolls his eyes. "Haha, very funny. Are you going to let me in?"
Steve doesn't really have a reason not to.
All right, well, he's got several reasons not to, starting with the fact that Steve isn't actually feeling so great and ending with Dustin being like thirteen and somehow always around when the world is ending.
But Steve is lonely, and feeling kind of pathetic, and none of them seem like good enough reasons, so he opens the door and lets Dustin in.
"From my mom," Dustin says, setting down a Tupperware of brownies on the coffee table.
Steve immediately knows he's made the right decision, taking a massive bite of chocolate, fudgy heaven. It's only after he's devoured one and he turns to Dustin to ask him to tell his mom thanks that he sees that Dustin's plopped his heart onto the coffee table, too.
"Hearts out, Steve," Dustin says matter-of-factly.
"Why?" Steve bitches. "What do you even need to look at it for?"
"You're in the Party now! Party rules, you have to show your heart before you can get your walkie," Dustin says.
Steve pulls a face, and immediately regrets it as it makes his eye and nose burst with pain. "Who says I even want to be in your party?"
Dustin's face falls. "Don't you?" he asks, sounding hesitant and uncertain.
It makes Steve's resolve crumble immediately.
"How about we start with friends?" Steve offers.
The kid's face lights up at that, giving him a gap toothed smile, but then he nudges his heart closer to Steve and looks at him expectantly.
Steve sighs and takes his own heart out, wincing a little as the motion twinges his bruised ribs. He sets it on the table next to Dustin's.
"There you go," Steve mutters.
Now that the light's better, he can see a hole right in the middle of Dustin's heart. It's small, but it goes all the way through, and it makes Steve's own heart give a soft pulse in empathy.
Dustin catches it, looks up to follow Steve's gaze, and drops his eyes. "My dad," Dustin mutters.
"Hey," Steve says softly, reaching out without even thinking about it to turn his heart a little.
There's two overlapping holes in the same place on his own heart, and Steve rubs his thumb over them, biting the inside of his cheek at the way it still prompts a soft echo of longing. "My parents," he tells Dustin.
Dustin looks around, like he's only just now realizing that there's been no sign of them since he rang the doorbell. "Oh," he says, soft and full of understanding.
It's honestly the most understanding he's ever received about his parents choosing to be mostly absent from his life, which makes him feel kind of pathetic, but also makes his heart warm in a way he's not sure it ever has before.
Dustin reaches out, stopping just short of touching Steve's heart as he gestures to the jagged line cutting through it.
"Nancy?" Dustin asks.
Steve's jaw sets.
He doesn't want to talk about it.
Dustin seems to take that as answer enough, though, because he just goes back to eagerly examining both of their hearts. Steve's is bigger than his - of course it is, because Dustin is thirteen, but they're both the same deep, vibrant red, and they both beat strong and steady.
It's barely any time before they're beating in unison.
Dustin looks back up at him, beaming that wide, goofy smile of his. "Cool," he proclaims.
—
Every time Dustin comes over after that - and it's a lot, honestly, Steve still doesn't know what to make of it - he plops his heart onto the coffee table and waits expectantly until Steve takes his out and puts it next to Dustin's.
They never touch each other's hearts, they never even talk about it, but at least twice a week Steve's able to breathe a little easier, able to actually relax.
—
He waits at the picnic table in the woods after school on his first day back.
Munson looks bored at first when he gets there, but then he does a double take, like Steve's injuries are worse now than they were at lunch.
Or maybe it's just that he's up close now, instead of on the other side of the cafeteria, or maybe it's just that Steve's tired and in pain and he doesn't give a shit about pretending like he isn't.
“Jesus Christ, Harrington,” Munson mutters, dropping his lunchbox on the table.
Steve shrugs. “I'd say you should see the other guy, but everyone did already.”
Munson is looking at him with suspicion, eyes narrowed as he takes him in. Steve wonders if he doesn't buy the story that's been floating around, if it's too easy to see that he and Hargrove both look pretty fucking bad for just blowing off steam and getting carried away.
Wonders if he'll call him on it.
Munson's expression smooths out, though, and he flips the lunchbox lid open. “How much do you want?”
Steve's eyes flick down to the chains on Munson's leather jacket, but no heart there today. Not that he could see anything if it was - Munson's been wearing his heart pinned to his jacket off and on since the last half of Steve's freshman year, but it's always wrapped up tight in chains or leather so that no one could get more than a glimpse of it.
Everyone said it was a flaunt of defiance against tradition and a way he could cheat people in his deals while maintaining the appearance of a fair exchange, but Steve always kind of figured it was just because he was tired of people demanding to see it whenever he sold to them while being reluctant to show theirs.
That, and it was like everything else Eddie Munson did - loud and in your face and purposefully drawing attention to what he wanted you to see, while guarding what he didn't close to his chest.
Steve's never bothered with attempting a mutual show of hearts the handful of times he's bought from Munson before - they aren't exactly new business partners, not even the first time he actually bought from Munson himself, and frankly Steve's never needed to see Munson's heart to know he's trustworthy enough that he's not going to give him bad shit, even if he does overcharge him.
But today's different.
He gently pops open his own chest, ignoring the faint twinge of his ribs, and takes his heart out, setting it on the table next to Munson's lunchbox.
Munson's eyes widen for a moment before his jaw sets, lips thinning out in a flat line as he looks down at Steve's heart and then back up to his face. “What the hell is this?”
“My heart,” Steve replies evenly.
Munson looks unimpressed. “I'm not showing you mine.”
“I didn't ask you to,” Steve says, unable to stop himself even though he knows he's being kind of a dick.
Munson looks at him for a moment. Then, “Whatever. How much do you want?”
Steve opens his mouth to say he isn't here to buy today, but - actually, no, he could probably use some weed to dull the pain and help him sleep. It's routine for a moment, both of them ignoring Steve's heart beating on the table next to them as they make the trade, until Steve's baggie is tucked inside his jacket and Munson's shoving cash into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Your Majesty,” Munson says, doing a little bow.
“Munson, wait,” Steve says.
Munson straightens, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Hargrove tried to blame this on you.” Steve gestures at his face. “Told me you sold him some bad shit.”
Munson goes very, very still. His eyes flick down to Steve's heart, so quick that Steve's not sure he would have noticed it if he wasn't watching Munson so closely.
“That so?” Munson asks. There isn't an edge in his voice - if anything, there's such a quiet neutrality to those two words that it almost feels more dangerous than if he'd tried to put a warning in them.
Eddie Munson's never scared Steve the way he does half the school - honestly, shitty as it is, Steve doesn't exactly think of him all that much - but there's no denying that Munson is no pushover. He can't tell if Munson is afraid, or angry, or just itching for a fight, but Steve didn't come here to freak him out.
He holds his hands up, palm out, and purposefully drags his gaze down to where his heart is beating calm and steady. “I don't believe him.”
Munson looks down at Steve's heart, lingering for a moment before darting back up. His expression is still unreadable. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because he said he was going to spread it around, that you were lacing your stuff with something,” Steve says. “I'm pretty sure I convinced him it was a bad idea, but just in case.”
“You convinced him it was a bad idea,” Munson repeats flatly.
Steve shrugs. “I told him he should be nicer to you, that you always sell me the good shit.”
That gets a little snort out of Munson, startled and almost amused, and Steve grins at him.
“It won't be hard to tack that onto the rumor if he tries to spread it,” Steve says. “So you should be safe.”
Just like that, the amusement in Munson's expression is gone. “Yeah?” he asks, disdain clear in his voice. “And why does King Steve give a shit if I'm safe?”
It's an obvious challenge, and for just a moment - for just a moment, Steve wants to tell him.
To tell him how the King Steve shit first came about because Carol loved fairy tales when they were little and his parents were gone so much that Tommy called him king of the castle, that he has tons of people who call him their friend but the only people who come close to understanding him are his ex, her new boyfriend, and a gaggle of middle schoolers who're waiting for him to come pick them up.
That he's more tired than any seventeen year old should ever be.
“What kind of king would I be if I didn't protect my people?” he says instead of any of that, refusing to look at whatever his heart is doing.
It's high school, it's politics, it's bullshit, but it's still a game he has to play for a little longer.
Munson is watching his heart, now, and whatever he sees makes something complicated cross his face. For a moment, Steve picks up a hint of longing, but it's gone by the time he looks back up.
“Well then,” he says, wide grin back in place as he bows again. “Consider this court jester protected, Your Majesty.”
—
The phone rings at one am a few days later.
He isn't asleep - had been, earlier, but a nightmare had tipped him quickly into wakefulness, and he hadn't gone back - so he answers it almost immediately.
Nothing good comes from one am phone calls.
“How many teeth do you think those things have?” Max demands without so much as a hello.
“I don't know,” Steve bitches before he's thought better of it. “You want to come over and count the bite marks on my leg?”
There's silence for a moment.
“Yeah,” Max says, and Steve's gut twists.
“It's one in the morning, Mayfield,” he says. “What are you going to do, skate over? It's dark and cold as shit out there.”
“Didn't stop us at the junkyard,” she shoots back.
He's quiet for a moment. Then, “I'll pick you up.”
She snorts. “You're going to show up at my house at one am and pick me up? Yeah, that'll be a great look for you.”
“Then it looks like you're out of luck, and you'll have to pick out the teeth marks on my leg tomorrow.”
She doesn't say anything for a while. He doesn't rush her, just settles back with the phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear.
“Why'd you do it?” she asks eventually.
“I ask myself that about a lot of things,” he replies. “Which one?”
He half expects another snappy retort, but her voice just goes even quieter.
“Put yourself in front of me. Stand up to him.”
Oh.
“I don't need protecting,” she adds, and yeah, there's the attitude.
“I know you don't need it,” he says, even though that's a lie. She does need it, they all do. “I know you can look out for yourself.”
That's not a lie.
“But you shouldn't have to. You should have someone who'll look out for you.”
She scoffs. “And that's going to be you?”
He shrugs, even though she can't see it, and it hurts a little. “Why not?”
She's quiet again. “You don't even know me.”
He does, is the thing. He knows the way her eyes looked when she said Billy was going to kill her, he knows not being able to rely on the people you should count on most, even if it's not the same.
He knows how he felt the summer before high school, when his father finally grew too frustrated with waiting for Steve's heart to change, how he picked it up and nearly threw it across the room. He knows the sound of his mother yelling, how viciously they fought. How his father never touched him or his heart again, but Steve now knew what lurked behind his eyes when he smiled too big.
He knows how his mother has looked at him with disappointment more times than anything else, after that.
But he doesn't say any of that. Instead, he says, “So let's change that. Skate park or arcade tomorrow?”
“What?” she asks, clearly thrown.
“After you're done staring at my leg wound and counting teeth like a creep,” he clarifies. “Am I taking you to the skate park or the arcade?”
“Hawkins doesn't have a skate park,” she says dismissively. “It has abandoned parking lots and dirt holes.”
He waits.
“Arcade,” she says. “And I want popcorn.”
—
His walkie flares to life at night, sometimes.
After the first time, he leaves it on a different channel than their usual one - makes sure the kids know which one it is, if they need to use it - and sometimes, they do.
Okay, more than sometimes. It's not like Steve's sleeping all that well, though, so he doesn't mind when it happens almost every night for a few weeks.
“Steve, you awake? Over,” Lucas says one night.
“Yeah, I'm up,” he mutters into the walkie. Then, after a moment's pause, “Over.”
There's silence, and that wakes him up more than the walkie itself had.
“Lucas?” he asks.
“What if you weren't there?” Lucas says.
“What?” Steve asks.
“At the junkyard. With Billy. What if you weren't there?”
“But I was,” Steve says, frowning.
“I know, but what if you weren't?”
Steve sits up, rubs at his eyes a little. “I'll always be there when you guys need me, okay?”
“You can't promise that!” If it was Dustin or Mike it might have been an angry bite, but Lucas just sounds frustrated. Maybe even a little scared.
“Sure I can,” Steve argues, even though he kind of knows Lucas is right. “I have the walkie, right? You guys call me, and bada bing bada boom, I'm there.”
Lucas is quiet for a moment. “Are you still trying to get Nancy back?”
“What? No, of course not. Why?”
“Dustin said you were bringing flowers to Nancy when he made you help him look for Dart.”
Right, of course he did. Do these kids keep any secrets from each other?
“This isn't about Nancy, okay? This is about you guys. I showed my heart to Dustin and I have my walkie and everything, doesn't that mean I'm in your party?”
“You actually want to be in the Party?” Lucas asks, sounding skeptical. “But you're Steve Harrington.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Steve asks.
“Aren't you way too cool to hang out with us?” Lucas retorts.
This is - quickly becoming a conversation that Steve doesn't really want to have over a walkie talkie at past midnight on a school night. He huffs out a frustrated breath of air, then pushes the talk button on the walkie again.
“This weekend. Arcade or shooting hoops?”
There's a pause. Then, “Really?”
Steve swallows down his urge to be a dick. “Yeah. Really.”
“Basketball. The park?” Lucas asks.
“Nah, we can use the hoop in my driveway. Come on by whenever.”
—
Lucas is good. Unpracticed, especially at any kind of teamwork, but good. Steve has to be careful, with his injuries, but they still get some good work in, and it's fun.
It's not until they're finished and raiding the kitchen for some snacks that he asks, “So what was that about, a few days ago?”
Lucas noisily pops open his can of New Coke, and takes such a long drink that Steve's pretty sure he's doing it to avoid answering. Steve just raises an eyebrow.
“Nancy used to hang out with us,” Lucas says, almost reluctantly. “She even played D&D with us a couple of times. Then she went to high school, and then she started dating you, and suddenly she's too cool to hang out with us. Then - then everything with Will, the first time, and she promised Mike they'd spend more time together, but she didn't. Just kept dating you.”
That's - a lot. He hadn't known that about Nancy, except that she wasn't as close with Mike as she wanted to be, that she didn't know how to talk to him about everything that happened. He thinks about protesting that hey, he's the one who got Nancy to talk to Mike about Will - and had to be a part of it, ugh - but again, he's trying not to be a dick.
“So you're, what, worried that I goaded Nancy into not hanging with you guys?”
Lucas makes a face at him. “No, Nancy doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do. I believe you that you'll be here if we need you for Upside Down stuff again, but why would you hang out with us for the in between?”
That's a fair question. He wants to be flippant, wants to deflect with something like because Dustin keeps showing up at my house and won't leave me alone, but -
He remembers how terrified Lucas looked with Billy pinning him against the cabinet. He kind of wonders if anyone's talked to him about it, or if it got lumped in with all the other weird terrifying shit going on.
“Because it isn't always Upside Down stuff,” Steve says softly.
Lucas goes quiet. “El says Hopper told her you guys fixed it so Billy would leave us alone.”
“I think Max did that well enough, but yeah, Hop and I had a plan.”
“How?” Lucas asks.
Bullshit, is how, Steve wants to say, but he doesn't. “Billy's on the basketball team, and he wants to stay on the basketball team.”
Lucas frowns. “So?”
“So I've been on the team longer than him. Coach knows me better, the guys are used to looking to me. Well - some of them.” In all fairness, the basketball team's been kind of split - some of them gravitating to him, some to Billy, some trickling back and forth like kids with divorced parents.
“So… you're one of the cool kids, and you like us, so the more douchebag ones stay away from us?” Lucas asks.
Steve's nose scrunches a little as he considers that, but it's… not wrong. “Yeah, I guess so. Most of them are good guys, they don't like bullying anymore than I do. It doesn't stop the ones who are assholes from doing it where we can't see it, but it helps.”
Lucas looks like he's considering that for a long moment, until finally he nods.
Steve thinks that's the end of it, but later, as Lucas is heading out to leave, he asks, “So what happens if you're not there, and you can't see it?”
Steve resists the temptation to pinch the bridge of his nose - mostly because he knows it'll hurt like hell.
“The Y is offering self defense classes,” he says, when he's gotten himself under control. “I was thinking about taking one. You in?”
Lucas is in.
This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!
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Part 4
Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie fic#dustin henderson#max mayfield#lucas sinclair#steve and dustin#steve and max#steve and lucas#good babysitter steve
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I got some Steve recommendations for your. I hope you have fun at your trip <33
https://www.tumblr.com/idyllicwillowtree/712967605076557824/a-good-pair-of-skates?source=share
A Good Pair (of skates) by @idyllicwillowtree friends to lover 3 part series. It's soo good and well written 💗
https://www.tumblr.com/sailor-steve/710189981781655552/into-open-flames-sh?source=share
Into open flames by @sailor-steve literally the best 3 part series ever. The horror element is insane it's one of my all time fav series 💗
https://www.tumblr.com/slashersteve/696118488046141440/series-masterlist-confetti?source=share
Confetti by @slashersteve single!dad Steve series. Honestly Steve's little girl is the cutest 💗
https://www.tumblr.com/sattlersquarry/717158970119356416/the-view-between-villages-part-one-good-bones?source=share
The view between villages by @sattlersquarry this is a choose your own adventure fic while you read like it's insane you get to have so many option 💗
https://www.tumblr.com/upsidedownwithsteve/695403093164277760/we-tried-the-world?source=share
We tried the world by @upsidedownwithsteve the ultimate road trip fic 💗
https://www.tumblr.com/hawkinsindiana/187861004902/almost-paradise-a-steve-harrington-x?source=share
Almost paradise by @hawkinsindiana is theee Henderson!Reader rewrite covering all the seasons. 💗
Lastly No Good At Waiting by @familyvideostevie which I can't link rn but it's my ultimate fav Steve fic. It's giving Gilmore Girls vibes 💗
Eee thank you so much!!! I’ve read a few of these & loved them, so I’m sure I’ll love the rest of them too!!!
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The Girlfriend Experience
Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill.
Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise
Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!
A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting.
“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.
“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”
“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.
“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”
“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”
“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”
“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives.
This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.
“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.
“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”
You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells.
There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way.
“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”
You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.
When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.
After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.
It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t.
“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.
Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.”
“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”
She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this.
“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand.
You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin.
“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”
“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot.
“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”
“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.
“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”
You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl.
“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”
“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend.
“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.”
“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him.
“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.
“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”
“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort.
Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment.
“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”
He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity.
“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”
“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”
The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair.
Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.
“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world.
When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”
Still no reply.
“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.”
“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced.
Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”
“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”
“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head.
“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”
“Huh?”
“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something.
“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.
“No.”
“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.
“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”
“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one.
“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan.
“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“
“No,” you cut him off.
“WHA-“
“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”
“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him.
“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”
“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve.
“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”
“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.
This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience.
After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date.
After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.
As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too.
Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory.
“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”
It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.
“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel.
“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up.
On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date.
“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”
He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest.
You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation.
“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question.
“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”
“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”
“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.
Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.
“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”
“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”
“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”
“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes.
“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious.
“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”
“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up.
“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!”
You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever.
“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.”
He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him.
Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date.
“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to.
“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting.
“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”
The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius.
“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home.
“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”
“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”
Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n.
Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into.
“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”
“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space.
“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”
“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment.
“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”
“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”
“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble.
“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”
“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”
“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”
“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly.
“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks.
The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch.
“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”
“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”
“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”
“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”
He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle.
“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet.
“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat.
“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”
‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.
You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.
“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,”
He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it.
He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.
As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him.
“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”
The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it.
Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.
Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve.
He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing.
As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway.
“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat.
He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood.
You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.”
The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed.
You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon.
Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you.
But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never.
You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share.
“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.
After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home.
“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”
“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly.
“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.”
You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view.
He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?
On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again.
He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date.
Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’.
You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago.
“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it.
“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend.
The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection.
“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.
“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”
He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”
To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.
“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”
Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section.
After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic.
Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides.
You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.
Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you.
As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos.
“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure.
“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.
“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.
“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass.
“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears.
Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic.
“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”
Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches.
“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.
Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else.
You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake.
“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”
“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.
“From bugs?”
“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”
“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”
You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.
“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.
“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh.
“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”
You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.
After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did.
It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom.
The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless.
Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you.
Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.
What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm.
“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.”
You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.
“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.
“Am I what?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice.
“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.
Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.
Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention.
Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully.
He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable.
While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.
“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”
“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”
“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”
He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down.
“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means.
“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”
Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.
“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”
As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.
Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.
“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”
“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”
“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”
“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.
“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”
“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”
You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid.
The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’
A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else.
It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak.
Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.
Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt.
“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink.
There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place.
“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.
“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”
You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise.
Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.
“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide.
“Oh, I was just waiting for-“
“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.
Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“
“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.
Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.
“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.
“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.
He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same.
“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.
“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”
“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question.
“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”
“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”
A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time.
“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”
You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts.
“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”
“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.
“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him.
He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board.
“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts.
As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways.
“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been.
“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.
You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder.
“Oh my god, fuck off!”
You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.
Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since.
“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say.
“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.
“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking.
“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”
“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.
“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”
Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you.
“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago.
“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be.
“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."
“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”
Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.
“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you.
It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire.
“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink.
“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”
Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions.
“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss.
He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.
Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.
He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time.
“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.
“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.
You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.
He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear.
Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you.
“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”
Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink.
“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole.
The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.
“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”
Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”
“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”
“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win.
“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”
“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”
If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in.
The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.
He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck.
“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”
Jackpot.
A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand.
“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up.
Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough.
He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering.
“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”
Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again.
“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”
The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin.
“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”
“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.
“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”
You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this.
His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together.
Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs.
Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea.
If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.
“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”
He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this.
Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next.
You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van.
“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes.
“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”
“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”
You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap.
As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh.
“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret.
“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”
You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass.
“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him.
You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.
He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.
The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door.
Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.
You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right.
And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.
“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding.
You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.
Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level.
Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting.
He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times.
You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.
You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach.
All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him.
The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.
“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips.
After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon.
You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.
Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you.
“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.
He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft.
“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not.
“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”
Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants.
“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.”
“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat.
“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”
You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it.
Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him.
“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”
The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.
Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips.
���Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment.
Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls.
You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss.
In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself.
“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.”
He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides.
You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room.
Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end.
“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply.
It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is.
Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck.
“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets.
“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs.
In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going.
The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets.
He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.
Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch.
His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips.
Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees.
He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you.
He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most.
Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder.
“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.
“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.
“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch.
His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt.
“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”
The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls.
“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair.
Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter.
Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other.
Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.
“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure.
“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”
Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head .
“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“
A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core.
As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit.
He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face.
When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants.
“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate.
“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds.
“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right.
He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked.
“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.
“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.”
“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.
He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched.
“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you.
“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”
“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his.
You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.
“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole.
“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again.
“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes.
“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him.
He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face.
As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”
“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”
His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back.
You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set.
Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.
“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck.
“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine.
He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain.
“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach.
And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.
His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.”
When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line.
“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”
With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you.
The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent.
Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment.
He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.
Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again.
“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper.
“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”
Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose.
“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means.
“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”
His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him.
The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up.
When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up.
His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.
Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you.
You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you.
You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle.
You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal.
Apparently not,
Days pass, and no call.
It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response.
After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring.
Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door.
“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say.
“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”
“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”
“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did.
You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say.
“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson.
“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”
Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you.
“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”
“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”
He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“
You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”
“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart.
“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”
“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”
You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you.
“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”
“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”
“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”
“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”
“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”
Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties.
Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom.
“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.”
You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy.
“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”
You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up.
Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin?
Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.
At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.
And there he is.
In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.
"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.
"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."
You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.
"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."
He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.
"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."
You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.
"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."
He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.
"And I owe you a few dates, for real."
As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.
"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.
"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.
You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.
#eddie munson smut#smut#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#Eddie Munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things smut#eddie munson fem!reader
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Pregnancy Pillow vs Captain America
Pairings: Dad-to-be Steve Rogers x Pregnant Reader. Themes/Summary:Light-hearted. Steve is feeling lonely on his side of the bed, and it's the pregnancy pillow's fault. A/N: I haven't been giving Steve some love lately. . . so here a cute little oneshot of how he will react when y/n brings out the pregnancy pillow. I don't own any of the images ya'll credits to their owners.
tags: @mrsevans90 @haruvalentine4321
Steve comes out of the ensuite after his shower, his white t-shirt clinging to his body and hair damp. He throws you an easy smile, the kind that makes his blue eyes crinkle at the corners, as he heads towards the bedroom. But the moment he steps inside, he halts mid-stride, staring at the bed like it’s personally offended him.
There it is again: the pregnancy pillow. An immovable, unforgiving barricade that now divides your once-cozy bed like a dam, stretching from one end to the other. Steve tilts his head, squinting at it as if that might reduce its size.
He throws his hands on his hips and sighs dramatically.
“You know, I fought Hydra,” he says, voice dripping with exasperation. “I’ve been through hell and back. But this—” he gestures to the pillow, “—is the one enemy I can’t seem to defeat.”
You burst into laughter from your side of the bed, propped up by a series of other pillows meant to cushion every conceivable ache or discomfort. “Steve, it’s a pillow.”
“It’s a monstrosity,” he argues. “It’s like the Great Wall of China, but made out of—” he pokes at it cautiously, like it might snap back at him, “—fluffy foam and… whatever this is.” He groans, flopping down onto his side of the bed with a huff.
“Pregnancy pillows are supposed to be supportive,” you say in an exaggeratedly sweet tone, rolling your eyes.
“Supportive?” He scoffs, attempting to squeeze his hand through the tiny gap between the pillow and your hip. “It’s so supportive I need to make an appointment to get within three feet of my wife.”
You press your lips together, trying not to laugh as you watch him contort, his long arms flailing. “I know it’s not ideal, but I need it, Steve.”
“Why does it have to be so big?” He sounds like a sullen child, tugging at the end of the pillow like he’s considering wrestling it out of the bed entirely. “Can’t they make a smaller one? One that doesn’t make me feel like I’m living on the opposite side of the planet?”
You shake your head. “Trust me, if there were a way to make it smaller and still work, I’d be using it.”
Steve finally manages to get a bit of his arm over the pillow’s edge, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder. He lets out a soft noise of triumph, and then—he leans in close, his forehead almost bumping the pillow’s fabric.
“Hey,” he murmurs, as if the pillow itself is an eavesdropper. “Wanna come over to my side?”
Your laugh breaks out fully then. “Are you trying to seduce me over a pillow, Rogers?”
“Absolutely,” he deadpans, his face all faux-seriousness. He wiggles his eyebrows and purses his lips. “I’ve got ‘plenty’ of space over here, you know. Might be a little lonely, though. Could use some company.”
You lean back into the pillow, giggling at the sight of this fully-grown super soldier pouting at a piece of fabric. “I’m not crawling over this thing. You’ll just have to wait until the baby’s born.”
Steve blinks, his face crumpling in over-the-top shock. “Wait. Until the baby is born? That’s months away!”
“Yup.” You nod solemnly, enjoying the way his mouth drops open.
“Months?” He repeats, shaking his head as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “I’m supposed to be a dad in a few months and I can’t even get a hug?”
You finally give in, shifting to face him.
“C’mere, you big baby.” With some maneuvering, you manage to reach over the pillow, clasping his face between your hands. He grins triumphantly and leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as if it’s the greatest victory he’s ever won.
Steve kisses your palm, peeking an eye open at the pillow. “We’re not done yet, pillow,” he mutters dramatically, earning another peal of laughter from you.
He straightens and stares at the pillow again, rubbing his chin like he’s trying to come up with a strategy. “Maybe… I can find a way to make this work.”
“Oh really?” you tease. “You’re gonna outsmart a pillow?”
“Absolutely.” He nods firmly. “If I can’t get past it, I’ll just have to—” With sudden determination, Steve heaves his leg over the top of the pillow, straddling it awkwardly like he’s mounting a wild horse. You raise an eyebrow, biting back a grin.
“Steve—”
He shushes you, waving a hand. “Shh. Let me have this.”
You watch, thoroughly amused, as he tries to maneuver his entire body over the pillow without crushing it—or falling off the bed. He flops, shifts, and mutters curses under his breath, but finally—finally—he makes it to your side, lying beside you with a triumphant smirk.
“See?” he pants, a little out of breath. “I did it.”
“Wow,” you say, clapping lightly. “Captain America, conqueror of pillows.”
“Damn right.” He beams at you, his face flushed from the exertion. “Now…” He reaches for you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, despite the awkward angle. His hand, large and warm, comes to rest gently on your rounded stomach. His thumb makes slow circles over the fabric of your nightshirt, brushing against the small rise. The smile that spreads across his face is soft, almost reverent.
“Hey there, little one.”
The teasing, playful glint in his eyes fades to something softer, more intense as he gazes down at your belly. His palm splays wide, covering the bump entirely, and he rubs with a featherlight touch. You feel the familiar flutter of movement beneath his hand, and Steve’s entire face lights up.
“Did you feel that?” He whispers, eyes wide with wonder, his breath catching.
You nod, your hand covering his, sharing the moment with him. “That’s your baby, Steve.”
He swallows hard, blinking away the sudden moisture in his eyes as he continues to trace gentle patterns on your skin. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I can’t believe… this is happening.”
Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion he’s never been able to hide from you. “You’re going to be a wonderful dad.”
He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Only because you’re going to be an amazing mom,” he murmurs against your skin. His hand lingers on your stomach, his fingers spreading as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of it.
The baby shifts again, and Steve lets out a soft laugh, a sound filled with awe. “I’m pretty sure this little one already loves you more than anyone else.”
“And what about you?” you tease, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
He shrugs, eyes still fixed on your stomach. “I’ll just have to win them over.” He glances up, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “Starting with getting rid of this pillow.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Nice try, Captain. It stays.”
He sighs dramatically but leans down to kiss your belly one more time. “Okay, okay, you win,” he mutters, though the smile on his face is nothing short of blissful. “For now.”
You lean back, resting your hand atop his, and the two of you stay like that for a while—Steve murmuring quiet promises to the baby, his fingers drawing lazy circles over your belly. Even with the pillow still stubbornly wedged between you, it’s one of the most intimate moments you’ve ever shared.
Steve might be fighting a losing battle against the Great Pillow, but right now, with his hand on your stomach and your laughter filling the room, he’s never felt closer to you.
#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers imagines#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x female reader#captain america x reader#captain america fanfiction#captain america x you#captain america imagines#captain america x y/n#captain america x female reader#steve rogers#captain america#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x you#steve rogers fanfic#captain america fanfic
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A concept that breaks my heart: imagine Bucky that eats like he doesn’t know where his next meal will be coming from because, for the longest time, he didn’t.
But nobody on the team knows because he never eats with them.
All it took was some absentminded comment from Sam the first time Bucky ate with him and Steve about how Bucky ate his hamburger in like 5 seconds. Sam didn’t really mean anything by it, he was just joking around, but Bucky got incredibly self-conscious about the way he eats and stopped eating in front of everybody, Steve included.
Every time the team was eating together, he’d say he wasn’t hungry or make up some excuse to get out of it but even if he couldn’t, he’d eat the bare minimum only to then sneak into the kitchen later when it was empty, make more food and then eat it in his room.
You yourself only joined the Avengers recently, so you’ve never seen Bucky during meals with the whole team.
But you don’t think too much of it, he always says he doesn’t need to eat as much which is a little weird because Steve is also a supersoldier and eats three times as much food as everybody else because of his faster metabolism, but Bucky’s serum was made by Hydra so, like everybody else, you just assume it allows him to operate with less need for sustenance which would make him a more efficient soldier.
But, being a person that likes to observe more than you like to talk, you start noticing small things about Bucky that no one else seems to.
It all started when he let a compliment slip about some cookies that you made for the team, which was weird because after the lunch where you all ate them as dessert, which Bucky was once again absent from, the rest of them disappeared from the kitchen less than an hour later. You assumed it was Sam, Steve, Clint and Thor since all of them always finish the things you bake, but clearly it was Bucky.
So, he does eat. You start noticing more and more Bucky sneaking around the Compound here and there and one day you can’t help but give into the curiosity and follow him to the kitchen where you see him making himself food and then sneak back to his room.
You don’t tell anybody though, or even bring it up with the man himself, instead you start saving food from meals so Bucky won’t have to make it himself and leave it out for him with notes so he’ll know they’re for him and nobody else will eat them.
It takes Bucky a little bit to figure out who’s doing it, but when he finds out it’s not Steve like he suspected but you, the pretty newbie that he’s barely even talked to since you joined, to say he’s surprised is an understatement.
But he can’t bring himself to confront you about it because he knows it’ll open up a whole can of worms about his eating habits and he’s too self-conscious about that to bring it up, so instead he starts leaving notes back every time he takes the food, addressed to you.
Now imagine this goes on for weeks, maybe months even, until one day Bucky builds up the courage to show up at one of the team meals and acts as casually as he can manage as he sits down and starts to eat. Nobody says anything or even acknowledges his unusual presence because, unbeknownst to Bucky, you’ve scolded everybody that tried to bring up Bucky’s eating habits over the last few months.
When you join the table after Bucky, as soon as you notice him all you do is grin and sit down before you start eating your own food. This is the first time Bucky’s ever actually seen you eat and his eyes widen when he sees you eat like a prisoner sentenced to death, but nobody else seems surprised or even that bothered. The entire team is used to it by now and they couldn’t care less, much to Bucky’s surprise.
“You… Always eat like that?” Bucky asks quietly before he can stop himself, worried about offending you the second the words leave his mouth.
But, once again, much to his surprise, you look up at him with a smile and nod unapologetically. “Yeah, my dad always used to say ‘Whatever you do, do it a hundred percent.’ That means when you work, work. When you laugh, laugh. And when you eat… Eat like it’s your last meal.”
Bucky looks at you with a blank expression for all of five seconds before his face breaks into a goofy grin. Not only did he already find you pretty and adorable, but after hearing you say that he thinks you’re the most attractive woman he’s ever known, even if you’re currently stuffing your face like there’s no tomorrow.
Imagine little by little Bucky starts feeling more and more comfortable eating around others, until eventually he joins every meal the team has together. And, when they’re all doing their own thing, he still asks you to have lunch or dinner with him and the two of you crackle at the other eating like a pig, not one hint of shame in either of you.
Anyway, just a thought.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#sam wilson#steve rogers#winter soldier#the winter soldier#bucky barnes#avengers x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#marvel fanfiction
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
The Epilogue ⭐︎ We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we made
Warnings: none really, fluff, lots and lots of fluff, pregnancy, a little (or not so little) time jump, dad!Steve, pregnant!reader, the 'teens' are in their early twenties, proofread but... poorly, please ignore any mistakes
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 5.1k+
Author's note: This is it, friends. The story is done (sob), I'm so grateful for everyone who supported this story, who commented and filled my inbox with sweet asks, I appreciate every single one of you ♡ and @hellfire--cult my love, thank you for working on this story with me, I had the best time working on all these chapters with you, I love u
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter
♡
“Lego Head!”
Steve comes scrambling down the stairs, panic in his eyes at the sound of your cry, his heart pounding with worry but also with fear at the frustration in your voice.
He nearly slips on the hardwood floor as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, his hair still wet from the shower he just took after he hurried home from work. He wanted to clean the kitchen and get started on dinner before you got home but time wasn’t on his side today.
Steve doesn’t know whether he should smile out of adoration or tremble in fear at the sight of his pregnant wife, fuming at the unwashed dishes in the sink.
You look so cute, no matter the mood you are in, you are just so goddamn cute, standing in your sundress, hand over your belly, wedding ring shining under the golden light of the evening sun. The frown on your face is adorable as you stare at him with furrowed brows and downturned lips. His heart flutters so wildly in his chest, after years of marriage and kids, his feelings only intensified, they kept growing, his love deepening more and more, each passing day with you. He is so damn lucky.
He approaches you, glancing at the dishes he couldn’t get his hands on yet, he grabs your waist and pulls you closer, “I’m sorry, baby, I was gonna do them after the shower, I just got home from work–”
Your sniffle cuts him off and he instantly stops talking when he sees the tears in your eyes, your lips moving into a pout, guilt crossing your face as you stare at your loving husband.
“I’m sorry! – I know you’re tired–”
“No, no, don’t cry sweetheart, I know you had a hard day too.”
“No, I snapped at you, I’m–”
Steve can’t help but smile softly as he shakes his head, cupping your cheeks softly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, kissing you softly, taking your mind off the dishes that drove your hormones insane.
A sigh of contentment falls from your lips, your eyes flutter shut and you melt so softly into him, placing one hand on his cheek, his stubble scratching against your palm. His scent, his body wash filling your senses and making your stomach flutter, making you feel at peace.
Steve smiles into the kiss as he feels himself calming down after the stressful day at work, your touch always brings him down, no matter how hectic and how bad a day has been, he always looks forward to coming home.
When you part from the kiss, your husband nuzzles your nose, making you giggle through the tears that sparked in your eyes. He tucks your hair behind your ears and places his large hand on your belly, his eyes glowing with nothing but love and happiness.
“Hi darling,” he whispers, greeting you properly now, he murmurs against your lips, kissing you once more.
“Hi Stevie, I missed you,” you whisper, pouting at him in a way that nearly brings him to his knees.
The smile never leaves his lips, his heart never stops to flutter. He kneels down and kisses your belly, whispering sweet nothings to his little princess.
You run your fingers through his wet hair, gazing down at him, your heart swells in your chest.
After running errands all morning and noon, you stopped by his workplace and he took you out for lunch at your favorite diner, he got you dessert too, even though it wasn’t for you as you had claimed but for the growing princess in your belly – he watched with adoration how you devoured that ice cream with such pleasure, just the way you do every night, when you’re both already in bed and a sudden craving of yours, has him jumping out of bed and tiptoeing down the stairs to get you whatever you or your little princess are asking for.
He remembers it like it was yesterday, when you announced your first pregnancy, he was so clueless and confused when you kissed him goodnight and turned your back to him, when usually, you would snuggle against him, nuzzle your nose into his neck and hold onto him tightly. He was a little hurt, even, thinking he had done something wrong to have you facing away from him but when he slid his hand under his pillow while he was staring at the back of your head and he felt something lying beneath, he furrowed his brows for a different reason as he felt the plastic touching his fingers, when he pulled it out and held it before his face, his eyebrows shot up, his eyes widened and a gasp threatened to fall from his lips as his heart started pounding wildly, excitement and giddiness settling in his stomach.
He needed to be one hundred percent sure that he was seeing correctly, so he turned on the light again, reached for the glasses he hated wearing so much, he didn’t even notice how you looked back at him with a soft smile on your face, he was too in shock about the two lines staring back at him. He knew what it was, he knew what it meant but he still needed the confirmation.
“Baby,” he whispered, his voice shaky from the uncontainable excitement. He slowly turned towards you after he ripped the covers off himself, he placed his hand on your shoulder and turned you around, “darling, light of my life, my gorgeous wife, Blondie– please tell me that this is what I think it is,” he begged, eyes pleading as they stare at you with such love.
The smile on your face, the tears in your eyes that were matching his own were enough of an answer but you nodded and whispered a soft ‘yes’, nonetheless.
“You’re– You’re pregnant?” He whispered, eyes glossy and filled with a softness that had you trembling with emotions. “We’re having a baby?” He asked as his eyes flickered to your stomach that was covered by his shirt on your body, he slowly placed his hand on your belly, while still holding the pregnancy test with shaky hands.
You answered by placing your hand on top of his, nodding again with a happy tear running down your cheek, one that he kissed away in an instant before he wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tighter than he ever has before as tears of happiness cascaded down his own cheeks while you both giggled.
“Yes, Stevie, we’re having a baby,” you said softly, kissing his neck as he buried his face in yours, hand still lingering over your belly, protectively.
He cried, he cried from joy and from love, he could not contain the excitement he was feeling. He had been waiting for this moment for so long, he wanted it from the moment you became his girl. But you both waited, waited for the perfect moment – you enjoyed your time alone with each other, you traveled around the country, stayed in your favorite cities, you spent a summer in Italy, just the two of you.
You got married pretty early on in your relationship, you both knew what you wanted, there was no point in waiting to put rings on each other’s fingers but you decided to wait with kids, well, Steve was open to having them from the start, but you weren’t ready until about three months ago – the moment you have told him that you were off birth control, he pounced on you, ready to take you in every way possible, and he did, he did it a lot, not only that night, but all the following days and weeks, he took you absolutely everywhere, at any time. You thought that he was intense before but what followed after you told him that you were ready, topped everything that you had done in the past.
He kissed your neck, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, he covered your whole face in kisses before his lips touched your own, he made you both giggle. “I love you, baby, I love you so fucking much,” he mumbled against your lips as his tears fell down on you, his soft eyes gazed into your own as his hand cradled your belly.
“I love you, Stevie,” you whispered and brushed your fingers through his messy hair, adoring the way the glasses adorned his pretty face.
More giggles fell from your lips when he started kissing down your body before he settled between your legs, lifting your shirt, he smiled before he pressed his lips to your belly, kissing it softly as he reached for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours, he looked up into your eyes, showing nothing but love for you.
“Hey,” he whispered into your belly, “you’re probably the size of a pea right now and don’t understand a thing I’m saying.”
His lips twitched at the sound of your sweet laughter, he squeezed your hand and held on tighter.
“But hi, I’m your dad,” he whispered as another tear fell from his eye, nothing short of adoration for you and your baby, pride swelling in his chest the more reality was sinking in, “I can’t wait to meet you,” his voice getting higher, his heart beating faster, “and I love you and your mommy so much, sweetpea.” He spoke as he pressed another kiss upon your warm skin.
There was no bump yet, but he already treated your belly like there was one, so much giddiness lingered in him at the thought of your future, of your growing family.
The family that he has now.
“I missed you more, my love,” he smiles softly, feeling the urge to just lift you up into his arms and carry you up into your bedroom, get in bed with you and hold you in his arms.
“Go lay down, I’m gonna get started on dinner.”
You place your hand over his, toying with his wedding ring. You shake your head, “I can help–”
“No, baby, my two girls need to rest,” he says, smiling as he rubs your belly. “Besides, Eddie is gonna be here soon with the–”
The door is banged open before he can even finish his sentence, startling you both before Eddie’s voice sounds through the hallway.
“Children delivery!”
Eddie steps into the kitchen, like he knew you’d both be here, carrying the two boys effortlessly, the older one of them on his shoulders and the other under his arms, already grinning at the sight of you.
“Daddy, Uncle Eddie taught me how to sword fight!” William exclaims, grinning proudly at his father while his little brother babbles away.
“Uncwe Ewwie wade gookies!” Elliot smiles excitedly.
Steve grins, eyes lighting up just the way yours do, you beam at your boys, smiling brightly as Eddie sets them down and they rush over to you, hugging your legs. You lean down and kiss their foreheads, brushing back William’s wild hair that resembles Steve’s so strongly, just like the hazel in his eyes.
“Hi mommy,” he smiles at you before he kisses your belly, whispering a soft ‘hello’ to his sister as his brother imitates him, making you chuckle while your husband watches with adoring eyes.
Steve crouches down to his boys and pulls them into his arms, making both of them giggle as he smacks his lips against their cheeks, greeting them cutely.
Your best friend chuckles as he watches your youngest, how he wraps his arms back around your leg the moment Steve lets them both go, while William makes his way out of the room and brushes past Eddie, no doubt making his way upstairs into his room.
“Did you bring us some of the cookies Uncle Eddie made?” You ask, smiling at your boy.
He shakes his head, pouting cutely as he looks between you and Steve, “I ate all gookies!”
Chuckles fall from your and your husbands lips, sharing amused glances with one another before he leans down and picks up Elliot into his arms, tickling his belly, the little boy giggles loudly.
“You ate all the cookies?” Steve gasps, beaming at his kid, “you’re the cookie monster, aren’t you?”
Elliot giggles and shakes his head at his dad.
“Oh yeah,” Eddie nods with raised eyebrows, stepping closer to the three of you, “he is a little cookie monster.”
“No, Ewwie!” The little boy exclaims, hiding his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, yawning as he snuggles against his dad.
Eddie laughs as he throws his arm around your shoulder, patting your belly softly, “alright alright, you’re not the cookie monster, buddy. But your sister is, your mom can eat a whole batch of cookies nowadays.”
Steve and Elliot giggle at Eddie’s words, while you glare at your best friend who grins at you, shrugging, “what? She has a sweet tooth, just like her mom.”
Eddie winks at you, the youthfulness still so deeply in his features, the playfulness in him still there, never leaving. His hair is just as long as it was years ago, if not longer, his band t-shirts still taking up most of the space in his closet, a few more rings adorn his fingers now, more tattoos on his arm and his chest, peeking out from beneath his shirt.
“Mhmm,” your husband nods, smiling softly at you as he lets Elliot down when he starts wiggling with his feet, he runs out of the kitchen the moment his dad puts him down, following his brother upstairs.
“Robin made you carrot cake, by the way, it’s in the fridge.”
Your eyes widen, lighting up at his words. Your mouth waters instantly, stomach grumbling at the mention of your newest craving.
Eddie chuckles at the expression on your face, the wide and excited eyes resembling the ones of a kid on christmas morning.
“I’m gonna kiss Robin.”
“Uh oh,” Eddie laughs, staring at Steve who frowns at you playfully, “be careful, Harrington, Robin knows how to steal girls.”
“Nobody is stealing my girl,” Steve shakes his head, wrapping his arm around your waist, he brings you closer and kisses your temple, “she’s mine.”
You place your hand on your husband’s chest, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.
“All yours, Lego Head.”
Eddie snorts at the nickname you have been using again lately, teasing Steve with it, every chance you get, but your husband only shakes his head with a smile on his face as his soft eyes gaze down into yours just as lovingly as they did back then, if not more.
It’s been seven years, almost eight, that you and Steve had found your way to each other after denying the bond that had always been there, seven years of this, of lovesick smiles and a bond that is unexplainable to anyone who never experienced a love like yours. You and Steve share something otherworldly, almost like you were made for each other, like you were made with each other, you got something that nothing could ever come between, absolutely nothing, not even death – Eddie is convinced.
Wherever one goes, the other will follow.
He sees the love you share, he sees the way your eyes speak to one another, how sometimes, neither of you has to use words to know what the other wants or needs, there is an understanding between you, no matter what happens, no matter what is going on, no matter the peace or the distress in your lives, you got each other and as long as you do, you both will be okay.
The vows you shared on your wedding day were nothing but truthful and honest words spoken from your hearts, your souls. No emptiness behind them, no promises to ever be broken but ones to keep not in force but in nature, nothing but love and adoration in your hearts for the other – maybe a slight possessiveness but only a healthy amount, a good kind.
Yours and Steve’s wedding will always be something that Eddie looks back at with joy and humor because you weren’t freaking out, neither was Steve, you were both calm, both at peace, both giddy and excited for the day you had been waiting for.
But Eddie, he was freaking out and so was Robin, both excited for their best friends but emotional at best.
Eddie cried when he saw you in your dress, he walked you down the aisle with a blurry vision, tears he tried to blink away were falling. You and Steve giggled through your own tears at your best friend who placed your hand into your fiance’s palm like an emotional father, not ready to see his little girl on the altar.
Eddie is so deeply lost in his thoughts as he stares at you both with a smile on his face, he doesn’t even hear the doorbell, only when you leave the kitchen, and Steve nudges his shoulder, does he snap out of it.
“You tired from babysitting all day, Munson?”
Eddie snorts, grumbling under his breath as he cracks his back.
“You better not make me babysit six kids in the future, or I swear on my uncle–”
“You love my kids, Munson, stop whining.”
“That’s right, I bet my favorite one is gonna be the girl, I just know she’s gonna be a little rockstar, a metalhead like her favorite uncle,” Eddie grins proudly.
Steve rolls his eyes, shaking his head in amusement.
“Are you sure you’re gonna be her favorite?” He asks as he gestures to his boys running down the stairs when they both step into the hallway to see who rang the doorbell.
“Max!” William smiles excitedly, running up to her to greet her, ready to talk her ear off about his day with Uncle Eddie. His brother giggles, throwing himself into Lucas’s arms who picks him up with a smile on his face.
“Hey little Steve,” Lucas jokes as he ruffles Elliot’s hair, “how are you buddy?”
Eddie sighs, placing his hand over his heart, a dramatic yet playful look residing on his face.
“I thought I was the favorite.”
Steve pats Eddie’s shoulder, “you’ll live.”
“Hey red,” Eddie calls out to his ‘step’ sister who nods along to William’s words, a smile upon her face. “How’s little red holding up in there?”
She scrunches her nose up, placing her hand on her small bump, “she’s making me nauseous.”
Lucas nods with wide eyes, “mhm and very hangry.”
Steve and Eddie chuckle while she glares at the three of them.
“Don’t worry, the nausea will pass,” you assure her, knowing just how awful the nausea can be in the first few months, how the morning sickness can drive you up the wall. Steve knows it too, he found you crouched over the toilet one too many times but he had always done such a good job at taking care of you, always there to pull your hair out of your face and rub your back, even when you told him to get out of the room and save himself from seeing you that way, like he would ever leave you to deal with anything by yourself. – He cooked for you, even took it upon himself to learn how to bake to satisfy your cravings, he never came home empty handed, he still doesn’t, he does everything to sweeten your day, absolutely everything. Not because you’re asking for it, you never would, not because he feels like he has to, no, he wants to, he wants to see the smile on your face, he wants to love on you, he loves to spoil you.
“Yeah, Blondie is the expert, she knows all about it, she’s only got like what? Three more pregnancies to go?” Your best friend cackles, making Steve’s cheek go red as the metalhead reminds him of the drunken night he told him that he would put six babies into you.
Max and Lucas both chuckle while Steve groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You’re doing good with it so far, you’re already halfway through!” Lucas grins, wiggling his eyebrows between you and your husband, gesturing to your bump, while Elliot’s big eyes flicker back and forth curiously.
“Daddy bought me a new skateboard!” William exclaims, tugging at Max’s hand as he completely ignores the conversation happening in the room.
“He did?” Max smiles down at him.
“Yeah! Let’s go!” He drags her away, excitedly, beckoning Lucas to come with him as well, to which he chuckles, still holding Elliot in his arms as he follows the little boy and his girlfriend, their voices echoing in the living room.
Steve wears a smile on his lips, his eyes following them until they step out into the backyard. Tilting his head back to you, his eyes soften only further, he pushes himself off the wall and makes his way towards you, reaching his hand out to yours, he takes it softly and pulls you into his arms, kissing your temple, his chest flutters when he breathes in your sweet scent.
A content sigh falls from your lips as you lean into your husband, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist.
“Are you feeling alright, honey?” He murmurs, looking down at you with gentle eyes as his palm rubs your belly.
“Yeah,” you smile, nuzzling further into him.
“Right,” Eddie clears his throat, pretending to be annoyed by the affection you’re both displaying (constantly), “I’m gonna get going, I’m taking my honey out on a date.”
“Ooh, where are you taking her?” You ask.
“Nothing special, we’re going to the movies and then we’ll get some dinner at Enzo’s.”
“That’s nice, Eddie,” Steve shakes his head at him, any date, any moment is special when it’s spent with the right person, he knows it.
“Yeah, I love a movie date and dinner!”
Eddie chuckles at your enthusiasm, “yeah, you only do it like every week,” he huffs in amusement.
“We love it,” Steve shrugs, looking down at you with loving eyes.
“I know you do and well, I do too so I’m gonna go now,” Eddie says, patting Steve on his shoulder before he ruffles your hair and pinches your cheek, “take care of yourself, mama and listen to your hubby when he tells you to rest.”
Steve chuckles at the way you slap your best friend’s hand away, glaring at him.
“I get enough of rest–”
“No, you don’t, honey,” Steve shakes his head, “can’t rest for a single second, you always gotta do something.”
You pout at him, making his eyes soften only further. He leans down and presses his lips to yours before you can protest.
“That’s my cue,” Eddie mumbles, he opens the front door, shouting a goodbye to the boys and to Max and Lucas. He winks at the both of you, grinning when you pull away from one another, “bye lovebirds, enjoy your free time while your two babysitters are keeping your nuggets busy.” He wiggles his brows and cackles, walking out of the door with an amused look on his face, he looks back one more time before he shuts the door, leaving you both to yourselves.
Giggles and voices come from the garden, the sun is still high up in the sky, warmth seeping into the house through the open doors and windows. One peek out in the backyard, you can see William showing his newest tricks to Max while Elliot plays basketball with Lucas, squealing and giggling every time Lucas picks him up so he can shoot the ball into the net.
“Hmm,” Steve hums with a smile on his face, positioning himself behind you, he wraps his arms around your waist, placing one hand under your belly and the other on top of yours, he leans down and props his chin up on your shoulder after kissing it, “let’s order dinner tonight and just relax.”
You lean your head back against his chest, tilting your head to the side, you look up at him, eyes big and soft – something that still drives him crazy.
“Relax?” You giggle when you see the smirk on his lips.
He nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing you softly, “I just want you all to myself for a moment, I missed you all day, darling.”
Your eyelashes flutter, a sweet sigh falls from your lips when he continues to pepper your neck in kisses, you wrap your hand around his wrist, giving it a squeeze, “I missed you too, Stevie,” you whisper.
“Ten minutes, baby, I want ten minutes with my beautiful wife,” he murmurs against your neck, sucking teasingly, making you melt into his arms further.
Your heart flutters in your chest, a small but needy whine escapes you, “ten minutes,” you whimper.
Steve doesn’t need to be told twice, he smacks his lips against your skin once more before he turns you around and he cups your cheeks, leaning down, his nose touches yours, his lips brush against your own, “I love you so much, Blondie,” he teases you with the nickname before he kisses you softly, making you smile against him.
You place your palm above his fluttering heart, resting your other on the back of his neck, “I love you so much, Lego Head,” you tease him back.
He chuckles, leaning his forehead against yours, his soft eyes stare into yours lovingly. He reaches his hand up to your necklace, the one you haven’t taken off since he got it for you all these years ago.
“Where are your glasses, honey?” You ask, sliding your hand from his neck to cup his cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone.
Steve scrunches his nose up, “I don’t like them.”
He didn’t even like the reading glasses he needed at first, he refused to wear them, claiming that he didn’t even need them. He was squinting his eyes like crazy, it was clear that he struggled to make out the words in the books he was reading, eventually he caved and started wearing them.
But now he needs them for more than just reading and he hates it, he only puts them on when he’s driving and takes them off for everything else, throws them into the drawer in the nightstand and lets them sit there until he has to drive somewhere again.
“Well, I think that you look very handsome wearing them,” you smile, licking your lips as your eyes flicker between his soft eyes and his very kissable mouth. “Very, very handsome,” you whisper and blink at him, innocently.
Your husband smirks at the suggestive tone in your voice, his cheeks heat up, warmth surging through his body.
“Oh, yeah? Well then, I gotta put them on for you… right now.”
A squeal almost falls from your lips when he picks you up suddenly, carrying you up the stairs, bridal style, just like on the day you got married and just like on many occasions after.
Steve kisses your cheek on the way up, grinning at you excitedly, lovingly. His heart swells when you hold onto him tighter, laying your head on his shoulder and nuzzling your nose into his neck.
He adores you, he adores you so much, if his heart could explode from all the love he holds for you, then it would’ve burst by now. He always knew that he loved hard, before you got together, months and months after dating, but even now after so many years together, after creating this beautiful family, he keeps on falling, loving you harder, each day.
It’s all he ever wanted.
And you both had to go through such darkness to get here, he spent so many nights wondering if you’d both be here if things never happened the way they did, back then. – He hates to think of a life without you in it, he despises the thought with all his being.
“Blondie?” He whispers after sitting down on your king sized bed, with you on his lap.
“Yes?” Your voice is only above a whisper, soft and gentle.
Steve grabs your chin tenderly, he looks into your loving eyes and smiles.
“I would go through it all again if it meant I’d get to be where I am, right now. I would go through the darkness, through Vecna, through the upside down… I would do it all over again if I’d get all this, you, in the end.”
There are tears in his eyes and in yours, not of sadness, only of love.
“I would do it all over again too, Stevie,” you whisper with no hesitation.
“Yeah?” He asks softly, gazing at you with teary eyes.
“Yeah,” you nod and lean your forehead against his, “anything for my love.”
His cheeks grow pink every time you call him that, heart beating wildly in his chest, he places his hand on your belly, stroking it softly.
“Anything?”
“Mhmm, anything.”
“Be my forever,” he whispers softly, lips ghosting over yours in a smile, eyes big and sparkly – like you aren’t his forever already.
“You already are, silly,” you peck his lips, making him grin against you, “you’re my forever.”
He cups your cheeks fully now, kissing you stronger and deeper, holding you like he will never let you go – and he won’t, he won’t ever let go.
“And you are mine, Blondie.” Steve kisses you again and again. “My forever.”
It’s hard to believe you were once behind one of the mall’s pillars, hiding from his view, watching him serve ice cream in that stupid sailor outfit while you tried to earn up the courage to talk to him, to really talk to him for once in your life.
It’s hard to believe that he was once looking at you from afar, watching you walk through the hallways without glancing twice towards the same person, wishing you would look at him at least once.
Hard to believe that you two never realized you were performing a stupid dance, be it around each other or with each other for years and years, and now that dance is over. Is it? No. You are still dancing, but now, it’s synchronized, magnetized, and a dance that cannot be broken.
A dance that now is shared with multiple people, with family you thought you would never have again, with family he thought he never deserved, with friends that stuck to you both like glue, and with your children that giggle every time you twirl around one another.
But just because it is hard to believe, doesn’t mean that it would’ve never happened, that it shouldn’t have happened, that it wasn’t supposed to happen. You would have found your way to each other, even without the darkness that pushed you into each other’s arms, the darkness that allowed you to find the happiness and love that you share with each other now.
Forever. And ever… And ever. In this universe, in the next, and the rest to come.
The End.
♡
@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @thecreelhouse @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn0628 @corrodedcorpses @munson-mjstan @moon-flowerrs @munsonlore @agirlwholovesrockstars
#dwoht -- epilogue#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things angst
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King!Steve Harrington x reader, he asks the reader out because of a bet. Happy ending!!!
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Drunk bet
Steve had a reputation in Hawkins High, and he loved it. He loved the attention from the girls and the respect from the jocks. He was cocky and smug whenever eyes watched him as he walked. He was the King and there was a line of girls wanting to be the Queen.
He could get anyone he wanted, and he had many choices. He liked the way girls chased him and all he had to do was send a smile their way.
Steve was drunk at a party, betting money on games of beer pong. If he was sober, he would remember that he was awful at that game. Hundreds of bills slapped down on the table as he missed another cup.
"Nice playing with you, Harrington" Billy smirked as he collected the money.
"Wait! Come on, rematch!" Steve slurred
"It's fun kicking your ass, but you have no more money to bet" Billy laughed
"My dad will kick my ass knowing I lost all of that. What do you want to bet on? I'll do anything to win that back," Steve said
Billy gave it a thought, he had King Steve in the palm of his hand. "Alright, Steve. I'll give you everything back if you ask out Y/N and date her for three months. Hundred for each month. We have a deal?"
"No way! If I go out with her, my reputation goes straight into the mud" Steve fought.
The thing was, Y/N was a very pretty girl. But she was nowhere near the popular crowd. And dating within the popular crowd was acceptable, dating outside of the circle was immediate destruction. He'd lose his King title.
He didn't know that Billy knew all of that. Billy wanted to be the king of Hawkins. He could take Steve down in every aspect. Steve felt stuck because he knew his father would be pissed about the money. Maybe Steve could complete the bet without anyone knowing he was seeing her.
Billy stood there with a smirk when Steve sighed and shook his hand.
~~~
Monday rolled around and Steve had to put his plan into motion. He didn't know too much about Y/N but he knew they shared a few classes together. All he had to do was get her alone, turn on his charm, and ask her out.
He waited in the hallway until it died out, slipping next to her locker when she wasn't looking.
"Hey,"
She jumped as she heard his voice, turning to see him standing there with a smile on his face. She was skeptical but stayed polite.
"Hey Steve, what's up?" She asked, closing her locker and then leaning against it.
"I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out tonight? You can come to my place and I can cook us something"
Y/N was swooning from Steve's smile and the smell of his cologne right under her nose. She couldn't believe that Steve was interested in her.
"I would love to," she smiled, maybe all those small waves and hellos meant something to him.
"Perfect. How about you give me your number and we can talk about details after school." He said
"Sure!"
Steve smiled at how excited she was, this was going to be easy. He let her softly grab his hand and write down her number. The pen tickled his skin as she wrote on his skin.
"Call you later," he said as he pushed off the locker, sending her a wink that made her heart race.
~
Y/N arrived at the address Steve said over the phone. She was nervous as she walked up to his house. She knocked on his door and anxiously waited.
"Welcome to my casa!" Steve said as he opened the door and allowed her to walk through. It was a beautiful home, very clean and everything had a shine.
"I hope you like pizza, I've got a great recipe," he said as he trailed off to the kitchen. Y/N followed but was still in awe of the house.
"Pizza sounds great," Y/N said, Steve pulled out a chair at the counter and motioned her to sit. She sat and took in his cute apron and the towel hanging over his shoulder.
"Do you like to cook?" She asked, her eyes following him as he checked on the oven
"I love it" he replied, "parents are barely home and I got tired of take out and frozen meals." He shrugged
Y/N couldn't help but frown. She wondered if he ever got lonely, but he was popular so maybe not.
"Can I help with anything?" She asked, standing up and walking over to him. Steve smiled at her, he could see the excitement sparkling in her eyes. He already has her wrapped around his finger.
~
A month flew by and Steve believed he had this bet in the bag. Since he was always home alone, he'd ask her to come over. She didn't question why they never went anywhere and that made it easy.
He didn't have much interest in her, but he did like her company. She was funny and was fun. There was never a dull moment with her and Steve didn't realize how much fun he needed in his life.
A few weeks into the first month he kissed her.
It was soft and slow. She didn't know where to put her hands but once she got more comfortable she touched him. He kissed her a few times, letting her grow more comfortable with him and adding anything she wanted to the kiss.
~
Two months in he asked her to be his girlfriend. She said yes without a second thought, just like he thought.
He started taking her out on dates, but only in private areas. Private waterfalls for picnics and driving into another town. She saw it as all adventures. She loved to explore and her heart raced by how much Steve seemed to want to explore with her.
~
Three months in Steve felt it.
He felt a little spark when he kissed her. When she held his hand as they jumped into the cold water below, he felt warm everywhere. The sound of her laughter as they plunged into the water made him smile.
He started loving the long drives. Singing with her and dancing at red lights. He started to feel happy when he saw the excitement in her eyes when she took in something new.
How he wished he had a camera to take a picture every time she smiled at him.
They had a few drinks one night, cuddled on his living room floor as the fire roared. Lately, the bet has been the last thing on his mind and it certainly was right now. The way her skin glowed from the fire. Her shoulder was exposed from her shirt, and without thinking he leaned down and kissed the skin.
He felt something burn inside him when she moaned. Then it became the only thing on his mind, making her moan and moan again.
They had sex on the floor in front of the fire, the beer bottles scattered on the floor. His forehead was against hers as he pushed himself in and out of her.
~
Steve knew he'd have to face Billy now that the three months were up. He didn't want to break up with her, he liked her and he liked her a lot. He knew he fucked up with how they started and he planned for her to never know.
Billy pulled up to his house, honking the horn as he got out.
Steve groaned as he rolled out of bed. Y/N was asleep, so he quickly left the room. He raced out to make Billy stop the honking. Once Billy saw him, he stopped.
He had a big smirk as he took in Steve's appearance.
"My oh my, sex hair and scratches? Someone had a good time," Billy chuckled.
"Look, I'm out of the bet. Keep the money and we're even." Steve said
"Oh, why? Fucked her and now you're in love?" Billy scoffed, "King Harrington settles for the pretty nerd."
"Billy, just stop. You get to keep the money, so let's keep this between us. She doesn't have to know" Steve hissed
"Alright, man. I'll keep this little bet between us, but what's your plan? Gonna have to start taking her out in public at one point, people will see and your reputation is doomed. And also," he said, stepping closer to Steve as he lowered his voice, "she's right behind you."
Steve gulped as he was fast to turn around. She stood there in his shirt from the night before. Her arms crossed as tears ran down her face.
Billy laughed as he got back in his car, but before he sat down he whistled.
"If you need a rebound, I'm here, gorgeous," he winked at her.
They watched as he raced out of Steve's driveway, leaving them alone.
"Y/N," he started but she already was running inside.
"I CAN EXPLAIN!" he shouted as he raced into his house, he was quick to head up to his room. She was yanking off his shirt and throwing on her clothes.
"I don't care anymore. You're just as much of an asshole as I thought." She hissed, angrily putting on her pants. "I should have known better. 'Oh baby, I just want you all to myself and I know this romantic spot at the lake,' you just didn't want anyone to see us together!" She mocked his voice as she headed out of his bedroom.
"I know! I'm so sorry and I fucked up. But please believe me. You heard me tell him to keep it right? You heard me!"
"Yeah, I heard you! But I never heard you admit any feelings for me. Why? Too scared to admit that to Billy? Knowing your reputation is on the line?" She scoffed, sliding on her shoes.
"I do have feelings for you! Yes, it was a bet initially but I fell for you. I really like you and I didn't want us to break up. I want to be with you," he cried, tears falling down his face as he grabbed the front door knob.
"Yeah, well I don't want to be with you." She snapped as she slammed the door behind her.
~~~
Steve gave her time to cool off but when Monday arrived he had his eyes set on her. He followed her around and begged for her to listen to him. People were staring and whispering about them in the halls but Steve didn't care.
Finally, she stopped, turning around as Steve's body smashed into hers.
"Quit following me around, this time I don't want to be seen with you," she declared, ignoring the kicked-puppy look in his eyes. "Take a look around, any girl would jump at the chance to be with you. And you wouldn't have to be ashamed of them, leave me alone and find someone else."
She went to turn around but Steve grabbed her shoulder.
He looked into her eyes and she tried to keep her hard face on.
"I don't want them. I don't want to look elsewhere. I'm looking at the girl I want. I'm sorry for everything and I'm sorry I thought you were someone to be ashamed of. You're not. You are the best person I have ever met and I'm begging for another chance."
She watched as he dropped to his knees and held her hand. She smiled awkwardly as the school stared and gasped.
"People are staring!" she hissed
"Good, because then you will see that I don't care who sees us. Y/N, will you please give me another chance? We don't have to label it right away, we can start with a date and talk through everything. All I ask is you say yes in the moment and we can think about it later."
She sighed, looking down at their hands. In his eyes, he looked sincere and sorry.
"Fine," she sighed, smiling to herself when Steve's face lit up, "But we will be thinking about it later."
"Deal!" he cheered as he stood up. She was caught off guard when he swooped her into a kiss. She ignored the crowd around them as she kissed him back.
#steve stranger things#steve harrignton#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x female reader angst#steve harrington fluff x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington angst x reader#king steve harrington x reader#ashwhowrites
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Bucky feral over pregnant reader
Pure pregnancy fluff and filth. This was meant to be pure fluff and then as usual, I got carried away, idk why I decided to make it this dirty.
I can’t get over Bucky being obsessed with you carrying his baby. Yes he’s excited to be a dad but there’s something about the fact that it’s you. You’re pregnant because of him, it’s his little one in your perfect belly. Every tiny change he notices in your body makes him swoon from, from your swollen achy feet to your tender breasts, and your slightly plumper cheeks.
He fucking loves it.
Your his baby mama and nothing else matters, he’s so proud and in love with you. The swell of your tummy makes his heart beat faster, and the more it grows, the more irresistible he finds you.
“You’re carrying my baby” he coos, wrapping his hands around your tummy while you stand in the kitchen grabbing a snack. He’s happy to cradle the little bump in his arms, easing some of the tension from your back, doing anything to help you feel better. He’s such a lovesick puppy, always looking at you with heart eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team.
“Look, he’s going it again” Sam whispered to Steve, the both of them watching Bucky watching you flit around the kitchen with his chin resting on his hands, sighing, enamored with how pretty you are with your cute little waddle.
“Does he plan on moving any time soon?”
“Nope”
Bucky is so busy admiring you, he doesn’t realize the team has started timing records for how long he just sits and watches because they find it utterly and disgustingly adorable.
He wants to make love to you the entire time, every hour if possible but mama also needs her rest so he doesn’t try to tire you out. That doesn’t mean he keeps his hands to himself, especially when you’re extra hormonal and needy.
“I got you, mama” He soothes you, pulling your soaked cotton panties off and pulling up your oversized shirt over your belly, his hands gently holding onto your hips and he pushes himself inside. He loves this position with your thighs spread apart, belly on full display, watching your face contort with pleasure, watching his cock thrust in and out of your dripping cunt.
It takes everything in him not to cum instantly, fucking his pretty, very pregnant girl, knowing he knocked her up, it’s his cum that has her all round and perfect, their love making that’s giving him a family.
“Fuck mama, m’gonna cum” He can’t help the whine and whimper of his voice, muscles tensed from trying to hold back but he can’t, your body is so warm and soft, “S’too much, balls feel to heavy, you make my cock so sensitive, s’all fucked up, I can’t-f-fuuckk” His hips stutter and he’s spilling ropes of his creamy spend into you, already thinking of getting you pregnant immediately after.
He can’t resist you even when you’re asleep.
“Jamie” you whine, your futile protests turning into a needy moan when you feel his tongue brush over your clit, his head between your legs, the time on the clock 1:15AM.
“Please mama? Wanna make you feel good pretty baby, you deserve it” He just had to get a taste and he doesn’t relent till his beard is soaked and your a shaky, trembling mess. He suckles and nurses off your clit like it’s keeping him alive, pumping his fingers in and out of you till your eyes roll all the way back and your voice is cracking from screaming.
Your pregnancy has made him down right filthy and feral. Like when you finished up your shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel that barely covered anything. Bucky was sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, the story now long forgotten when he sees you sitting by the vanity, applying your lotion. You let the towel drop to the floor, now bare naked while rubbing silky cream onto your sensitive skin.
“Fuck, y’can’t do that doll” Bucky groans, his eyes trailing to your peaked buds down to your stretch marks and plush thighs, the soft rolls of your back making him feral, something he desperately wants to grab and squeeze them in his hands. “Let me help you, mama”
He’s about to set his book down but you can’t help but tease him, shaking your head instead.
“Y’know I can do this myself baby, I need to move around, doctors orders”
He knows you’re right but that doesn’t stop all his blood rushing down to his now aching cock, screaming for attention. He palms himself, hoping it’d be enough to calm down but nope. You start to massage your swollen breasts, the smirk on your face shows you know what your doing. His cock ends up in his hand, book thrown aside, chest heaving up and down.
“Fuck, m’so hard” He moans, stroking himself while you giggle, continuing with your routine. “S’not fair babygirl, makes my cock hurt when you look so pretty like that”
He’s careful to use slow, languid strokes because any tighter and he’d cum all over his fist. At some point his metal hand cups his balls because his body feels too hot and they’re so fucking full. He could cum just from watching you but he’s more greedy than ever.
“Mama. c’mere, please” he pleads with glassy eyes between moans, struggling to keep his eyes open.
“Need something Jamie?” You coo, your perfect naked form causing spurts of precum to shoot from his tip while you saunter over to him, removing his hand from his cock and pulling him to stand up. He’s about to ask what you’re doing, stuttering when you bite your lip.
“Oh god, fuck, no, you-you can’t-” He chokes out while you sink to your knees, taking the head of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around. He sobs at how angelic you look, your breasts heavier than ever, tummy nearly touching the floor. You’re a whole Goddess, on your knees, sucking his dick, pregnant with his baby, Bucky swears he’s died and gone to heaven.
“Fuck, A-angel, don’t do this to me, m’gonna cum so much, feels too good, you’re so pretty” He cups your cheeks with softly, whining when you pull of him with a pop, his arousal making your lips and chin glossy, dribbling down your neck.
“Go on daddy, mark me” You smirk while he furiously jerks his cock above your face, cursing under his breath, his cock swelling in his fist. He feels his balls pull tight to his body, his heavy length leaking and already dripping on your face.
“OH GOD” He nearly roars, coating your entire face with his warm, sticky spend. “FUCK YES” he lets the last few drops fall onto your belly, your body perfectly covered in him. He kisses it all off with sloppy kisses, hard again with him minutes, this time filling your perfect pussy up instead.
By the time he’s done, you need to shower again anyway, which he’s perfectly happy with, this time excited to join you.
“C’mon mama, lets get you cleaned up again”
Sorry.
#bucky x pregnant reader#bucky x pregnant!reader#James Buchanan Bucky Barnes#Bucky Barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky barnes pregnancy kink#bucky barnes pregnancy fluff#bucky barnes x freader#Bucky Barnes x f!reader#Bucky Barnes x female reader#Bucky Barnes x F Reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x f reader#bucky x fluff#bucky x Female Reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x pregnant reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes breeding kink#bucky x smut#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fan fic
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first night traditions | e.w
summary: back for your third summer in a row, you reconnect with your friends you hadn’t seen for a whole year, including one ellie williams. seeing her again brings back the silly crush you developed on her the first summer. you promised yourself that this summer would be different but your heart is betraying you.
pairing: ellie wiliams x fem!reader
contains: fluff, tension between ellie and abby, characters from a different au (steve & robin from stranger things), probably inaccurate depictions of summer camp because i’ve never been, maybe flirty!ellie :)
word count: 4.1K
a/n: i literally couldn’t think of any other name for extra characters. stranger things had been heavy on my mind even though 90% of the cast and production team are so insanely problematic. fuck the duffer brothers. but i am so so excited for yall to see what i have for this. a day late posting i apologize but i hope you guys enjoy <33
under the summer stars masterlist
For the past two summers, you’ve been a camp counselor at Little Explorers Summer Camp. As irritating as the summer heat made you, being able to spend a month in this little paradise with the sweetest kids in the world made the burning UV rays worth it. You pulled into the parking lot, watching your friends from previous summers lining up beside you. You sent a text to your dads to let them know you’d arrived safely at the campsite.
As you adjust your minimal amount of makeup, you hear a knock on your window causing you to jump slightly and turn down your music that you had been listening to on the 3 hour drive. You turn your head and gasp in excitement as your good friend and fellow counselor, Jesse, tugs open your door.
“Oh my god, Jesse!” You chuckle as you step out of your driver's seat to wrap your arms around his neck.
He chuckled against your temple as he wrapped his arms around you, patting your back.
“Holy shit! Have you been working out? You nearly choked me out just now.” Jesse joked as he pulled back from your embrace.
You put your arm up to flex playfully, nodding with a cheeky smirk.
“Prepping for this summer, you know?” You shrugged your shoulders before looking over his shoulder to see a familiar blonde head making her way over.
“I think we should really put that to the test,” the blonde folded her own muscular forearms over her chest.
You make your way over to her to give her a tight hug as you had missed her presence dearly. Abby had become a close friend of yours after your first summer as a counselor being a year older than you and having more experience than you did.
“Abs, I missed you,” you laugh softly as she gives you a squeeze, slightly lifting you off the ground.
“I missed you too. Ready to deal with whiny kids and minimal air conditioning for a month?” Abby grinned from ear to ear as she pulled away, patting your shoulder.
“Oh, nothing but excitement and not at all fear,” you give her a thumbs up before you turn to see Jesse opening up your trunk to grab your suitcase.
You thank him as he breezes past you with your two suitcases, watching him walk down the gravel road to the counselors cabin. Abby mumbles ‘show off’ as Jesse lunges with your suitcases on either shoulder causing you to chuckle. The sun beat down on your exposed neck, beads of sweat already trickling down your back and centering on your upper lip.
You and Abby get to talking as you shut your car door, double locking it as you had the tendency to forget to lock your car. Abby explained to you how she had been excelling as a personal trainer back home, loving the differences she makes in people's lives. You were a barista at your campus when you weren't here at the campsite.
As you both walk up to the camp main office cabin, you notice a few other familiar faces. Dina, another fierce friend of yours, and Joel, one of the only mature adults in charge, both leaning against the old wooden railing with bright smiles.
“Well, who are those sexy ladies?” Dina shouts, cupping her palms over her mouth.
The sound caused the birds in the trees to scatter, you flinching at fluttering and squawking above you. You shake your head with a blush from not only the heat but her words.
“Dina,” Joel says warningly.
“What? The kids aren’t here yet.” Dina rolled her eyes playfully before making her way towards the two of you.
She threw each of her arms around your necks to pull you both into a quick but sweet hug.
“You’re one to talk. Hello? Your hair is growing and have you been doing squats?” You check her out as you admire her figure.
“My genetics blessed me.” Dina insisted with a bright smile.
The three of you were all sharing conversation as you walked up the steps, giving Joel friendly smiles and ‘hello’s. You peeked inside the cabin to see Jesse talking to the one person you were ashamedly the most excited to see. There she stood in a black tight wife pleaser, arms crossed in front of her chest as she nodded to whatever Jesse was rambling about. She even stopped her conversation with the man to walk up to you to give you the tightest hug, her toned arms wrapping around your frame.
Ellies’ sigh brushed against your temple, like she was relieved to see you. After all these summers, no one ever exchanged numbers so you yearned for her presence at the beginning of the month of June. Your dads already gave you a million pep talks but you told them your crush on Ellie was no more. Your heart betrayed your mindset as it fluttered at her grip on you, melting into the embrace without even realizing.
That is until Jesse spoke up.
“Jesus, Ellie, you guys are going to have a whole month together.”
This caused you to flip him off behind Ellie’s back. Ellie, sadly, pulled away regardless but didn’t let Jesse’s comment go unpunished and gave him a punch to his shoulder. He simply winced and rubbed the skin, shaking his head at the auburn haired girl.
“You’re just jealous because I’m her favorite,” Ellie snipped with a confident smile.
You couldn’t even lie as it wasn’t far off. It made you over think how you act around her. Have you made it obvious these past two summers how much you favored her?
“So are you guys excited for tonight?” Dina pipped in, raising her thick eyebrows as she glanced at everyone.
Every summer for as long as this camp has been active, all of the counselors take a night to go for a late night swim and a beautiful campfire to take the time to mentally and emotionally prepare for the next month.
The children come on Monday. It was Saturday so they had all of Sunday to prepare everything for the kids.
“Oh hell yeah. Dina and I are going to sneak into the dining hall to grab everything for the s’mores. What cabin did everyone get assigned to this year?” Jesse spoke up, grabbing the clipboard with everyone’s cabin and the amount of campers everyone had.
You glance at Ellie to motion to the clipboard. She grabbed your arm to tug you towards Jesse’s figure, peaking over at the highlighted names.
“Shit, Els, our cabins are right next to each other this year. T-Rex’s and Daisy’s.” You beam at her as you run your finger down the list.
“Finally. It’s been, like, three years and we’re right next door to one another.” Ellie looked over at you with just as much excitement in her sage green eyes.
You couldn’t help but match her excitement as you recalled the past two summers where the cabins you were assigned to were tens of feet away and you weren't able to see each other until lunch time or late at night. The cabins next to each other were usually teamed up to do activities with the kids together. More time to spend with Ellie.
Platonically and BFF-like, of course.
“Wait, Joel, where’s Steve and Robin?” You question the elder man as he walked through the screen door with a large box in his arms.
“Ah, those two will be here much later.” He paused to set down the box near a desk. “They missed a few exits and called ahead to let me know.”
You nod to yourself. Steve and Robin were like ying-yang twins. The brunette pretty boy and the freckled girl were the definition of platonic soulmates. It freaked you out how well they got along.
“Well until then, let’s all unpack our shit in our counselors cabins.” Jesse spoke up, grabbing one of his suitcases.
You agree and go to grab your suitcase when Abby and Ellie speak up.
“I can help—“
“Hey, no, I got it.”
You froze at the two of them reaching for your travel cases, looking in between the two of them.
“Guys, I can carry them myself,” you shake your head with a soft laugh but neither of the girls were having it.
“It’s like a mile walk to the Daisy cabin. I’m right next door. I can help,” Ellie emphasized, looking at Abby with a tight-lipped grin.
“A mile is not that far, Ellie. I really have no problem doing it.” Abby chuckled in Ellie’s face, grabbing the handle tightly to your carry-on suitcase with your toiletries.
Dina and Jesse exchange looks with you before silently maneuvering around the three of you to carry their own suitcases to their assigned cabins. Was there a weird tension between the two or was it just you?
“Okay! How about you both carry something? There. Problem solved.” You speak up, placing a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and turning to face Abby.
The two were driving causing your shoulders to set in a hunch at the strange encounter. The girls agreed on that before leaving the main cabin to yours. Abby’s biceps flexed as she carried the heavier suitcase with ease as Ellie rolled her eyes behind her, telling you to follow behind them so you could get settled in.
Reluctant already to walk in the shaded heat, you give Joel one more forced grin. He muttered ‘good luck’ before returning to his own tasks with what you swore was a teasing grin.
The walk to the cabin wasn’t as irritating as you were expecting as Ellie and Abby were right: you would’ve been complaining a lot more if you had a suitcase in each hand along with your carry on. The heat was causing your baby hairs to stick to your forehead, huffing in annoyance but keeping your snarky words to yourself as you arrived with the two very helpful girls.
Ellie kicked open the door, a soft grunt leaving her lips as she placed the suitcase she was holding next to your counselor bed. Abby did the same, stretching her palm in and out from the tight grip. You sigh as you lean against the doorway, feeling the cool A/C hit your face.
“See? Teamwork guys,” you give them both thumbs up. They looked back at you with panting chests but smiled at your words nonetheless. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit. Thank you, Els. Thanks, Abby.”
You give the girls a side hug — Ellie’s a little tighter than the blondes. Abby gave Ellie a look once over before leaving the cabin to have you and Ellie be on your own. Once the door shut, Ellie turned to you with a soft sigh. She placed her hands on her hips as she looked around at the cutesy decor that was floral themed. You took notice of how homey the bunk-beds felt in comparison to all of the other ones.
Sure, they were just as adorable but this one felt right. Or maybe it was the fact that a certain auburn haired girl was making you feel more at ease than ever.
“This is a cute little cabin. It suits you,” Ellie walked over to trace the mural of sunflowers with the campsite name in a beautiful cursive font.
“Right? It’s perfect. I mean, the Mushroom and Grizzly cabins were adorable but this feels a lot better for some reason.” You glance over at Ellie’s inked arm, sucking in a deep breath.
Ellie hummed in agreement, looking back over at you. You fiddled with your random bracelets, giving her the least awkward smile you could muster. She reciprocated the gesture right back and tilted her head to the left.
“I should probably head over next door to get all of my shit unpacked,” Ellie huffed out, walking over to you to be merely inches away from your face.
“I thought you were just going to annoy me for a little longer but if you wanna go, Els.” You tease, scrunching your nose at her.
She scoffed and leaned in, narrowing her eyes. “You love it when I annoy you.”
And how easily you could kiss me right now if you were willing, you thought.
“I guess I do since I keep you around,” you shrug your shoulders.
Ellie’s eyes poured into yours as she took a step back. Her hand reached at one of the ends of your braids, twirling it around her pointer finger. You watched her carefully as her smile slowly grew.
“You’re not sick of me yet?” She questioned, still messing with your hair.
Not in the slightest, your brain echoes.
“We’ll see. I’ll get back to you when the month is over.” You chuckle as she releases the dutch braid from her fingertips.
Ellie muttered ‘fair enough’ under her breath as she nodded to herself, a smile creeping on her lips. You watch her take a moment to glance around the cabin once over before inching towards the door.
“I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Campfire and then late night swimming.” Ellie pointed one finger at you expectantly.
“I know, Els. I’ll see you,” you give her one more nod.
“Wear something cute for the swim,” was the last thing she said before opening and shutting the door behind her.
You watched her now more blurred figure through the screen over the windows, waiting for her to leave before letting out a long sigh you weren't aware you were holding.
It was going to be a long month.
After unpacking for what felt like centuries, you had everything in their correct places and were able to peacefully make your way to the campsite. All of the beds were made, your counselor door had your name in dry-erase along with the rules for the camp opposite of the door.
And maybe you took into consideration what Ellie said about the cute outfit and threw on a pair of brown cargo shorts and a loose white tee. You only brought three pairs of shoes so you landed on your black and white Reebok Club C’s. What’s underneath was also taken into consideration.
As you were shutting the door behind you, you turned around to see Dina standing right in front of you with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. You scoot back as she had scared you with her silent presence.
“Hey D, everything okay?” You tilt your head at her as you make your way down the steps.
“What the hell was that with Abby and Ellie earlier?” She trailed behind you, speeding up her steps to walk beside you.
You glance at Dina as you recall how intense hours before were between your other two friends; one whom you felt more deeply for.
“I really have no idea. It was… freaky but hey, I got out of carrying my luggage.” You joke and Dina nods along with a weak chuckle.
“Yeah, that is true but I don’t know. Ellie and Abby have always been neck in neck for some reason. They get along enough to be cordial but those two can get on each other’s nerves fast.” Dina explained to you.
You never really noticed it before. You assumed it was because if you weren’t trying to make sure the children were pulling or cutting each other’s hair, bullying one another or making sure their bladders were in check. Along with your flourishing and embarrassing school-girl crush on Ellie blinding you.
“Why?” You question as the two of you were approaching the campfire that was sparkling and crackling under the setting sun.
“I really have no idea, babe but what I do know is that you’re not being any less obvious with your crush on Ellie.” Dina nudged you as she jerked her head to Ellie who was watching Joel pulling at the strings of his acoustic guitar, a bottle of Coke dangling from her long fingers.
The green eyed girl had a small smile on her pink lips as she watched the father figure in her life sing lowly with the tune. Her effortless beauty to you was always captivating. Maybe Dina was right.
“My crush is extremely under control,” you lie straight through your teeth.
“Suppressing it and not confessing is not having it under control,” Dina stated with a sigh, shaking her head.
“Okay, enough talking about it. Plus, I’m trying to move on, D.” You lower your voice once you approach the group of familiar faces.
Dina pressed her lips into a thin line as she respected your wishes. What you told her was half true. Yes, you did want this crush to wither away in the wind but you didn’t actually have someone else to fixate on.
”Robbie, hey!” Dina approaches Robin, giving her a quick hug.
Robin rested her chin on her shoulder with a soft chuckle, reciprocating the motion. You make your way over to Steve who was chugging a lime Gatorade. Everyone was wearing a mix of tank top and tees with either jean or cargo shorts with athletic sneakers. Steve, being the manwhore he was, had on 5 inch inseam jean shorts. He looked like he stepped out of a 1987 slasher movie.
“Hey, pretty boy,” you tease as you stare at his head of gorgeous hair.
Steve rolled his eyes playfully before wrapping his free arm around your waist from where you were standing quickly. You hear Ellie and Joel snort at your statement as Steve shakes his head at their laughter.
“What’s up, Bubbles?” He grinned up at you.
Now the entirety of the camp erupted into giggles at his nickname for you. Last summer, the children in your cabin pranked you with the help of Jesse and Steve. The idiots got all 12 kids an extra large bubble gun and doused you in soapy bubbles right after getting out of the shower. You swore half of them just went up your nose and in your mouth. The HD photo of you is hanging in the main office for everyone to see.
“Alright, alright, enough. You guys are asses.” Ellie spoke up but she covered her mouth to hide her own laughter.
You sit down next to Abby and point across the fire at the auburn haired girl.
“You better keep one eye open at night.” You shake your head, allowing the warmth of the fire and the soft tunes of Joel’s guitar put you at ease.
Everyone else ‘ooh’d’ and ‘damn’d’ at your words as Ellie merely shook her head. She didn’t believe you were going to really do anything to her. That is until the blonde sitting next to you threw her muscular arm over your shoulders, tugging you into her side.
“I’ll help you prank Williams. Let me know before we go on our weekly trips to town.” Abby whispered into your ear which caused weird shivers to trickle down your spine.
You send her a small smile with a soft ‘thanks’.
Before you knew it, everyone was sharing how their past year has been since the previous summer. The sticks were passed around with the huge marshmellows at the end, everyone roasting them to a slight crisp. This camp had been a second home to you and these people had become like family. You found out that Robin had finally made a move on that girl she had been cruising on for the past year and had a date with her when she got back from camp which everyone drank to. You pressed your melting marshmellow in between two graham crackers, a small amount of chocolate between the two as you weren’t the biggest chocolate fanatic.
Ellie was almost pressured into playing the guitar tonight but she insisted she saved it for the kids.
Just when you were trying to get over her she said something as sweet as that. God, you hated her. After everyone had inhaled their s’mores, a series of sighs and complaints about how hot it was trickled down the line of counselors.
“Screw it. It’s time for that late night swim.” Robin stated, standing up on her high-top Converse covered feet.
Even though the sun had been set for almost two hours now, you were still warm all over. The cool lake would be heavenly. Everyone except for Joel got up from their seats on the logs, making their way over to the lake.
“Y’all be safe now. Ev’rybody knows what to do when you’re done swimming right?”
They were scattered ‘yes’s’ and ‘got it, Dad’. In a sense, Joel was like a father figure to you all since each and every one of you viewed him as such; comforting and an older man.
Once he gave you guys the ‘okay’, the group took off in a sprint to the bridge overseeing the lake. You let out a loud laugh as you watched Steve trip over his shorts as he kicked the denim off. Everyone had left their clothes and shoes on the small wooden pier, each of you plopping in one by one.
You set your shorts aside hanging on the rail along with your shirt and shoes. You tried to ignore the negative thoughts about Ellie seeing your body in just your underwear; a pair of hipster panties and a bralette because you couldn’t stand wired bras.
”Come on! The water feels amazing,” you hear Robin shout.
You saw Dina shoving Steve’s head into the water with joyous laughter. Jesse, Robin and Abby will peacefully swim around in the dark water. The only source of light being the singular lamp post at the end of the pier and the moonbeams bouncing off the still water.
Then you see a familiar head of wet auburn hair pop up at the end of the wooden ledge.
“Don’t make me get out of this water and push you in,” Ellie warned but her smile showed she was only teasing.
You flip her off before motioning for her to back away from the pier.
“Move your head, Els. I don’t wanna risk accidentally kicking you in the face when I jump in.” You give her a pointed look.
“I could get a badass black eye though,” she raised a hand to push back her wet hair out of her face, giving you more of a view of her stupidly perfect side profile.
“No, seriously. I don’t want to hurt you. Please move.”
Ellie muttered an ‘alright, sorry’ before swimming backwards so that she was now in the little group, all eyes on you. You took a few large steps back, the rough wood tickling underneath your bare feet. You heard a few shouts of encouragement come from Ellie and Abby’s mouths.
Within minutes, you were sprinting off the pier into the deep water. The borderline freezing lake engulfed your body entirely. When your head popped back up above the water, everyone was cheering you on for the jump. You were shivering a bit until Ellie came up behind you, placing her palms on either one of your shoulders. The warmth of her hands eased your goosebumps that raised on your skin.
“So you did wear something cute for tonight,” Ellie said lowly, the cockiest and most stupid grin on her face.
At first, you thought she meant the clothes that were hanging off the pier but no, she meant the underwear that was now clinging to your body. Your cheeks flushed at her words, moving your falling bra strap back onto your shoulder.
“This is what was at the top of my suitcase.” You state before splashing her face with the water, leaning in closer so that you were inches apart. “Not everything is about you, Ellie.”
Ellie spat out what water got in her mouth before shaking her head as she smacked her lips against her teeth. It shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.
“I missed you,” was all she said.
No sarcastic comment back. It sounded so genuine and maybe you felt bad for talking to her in that manner. You had to if you were ever going to move on from this fantasy world of Ellie liking you back.
“Well, I’m here now. I missed you more, Els.”
Ellie shook her head. “You can ask Joel. He’ll embarrass me with how much I was talking about how excited I was to see you again.”
Don’t, you shouted at your rapid beating heart. She misses me as a friend.
“I don’t think I have to ask. He loves embarrassing you enough on his own,” you reply with a shrug of your shoulders, kicking your legs through the thick water to keep yourself afloat.
Ellie chuckled as she agreed.
“Well, anyway, I can’t wait to have fun with you again. ”
You nod mindlessly, completely enamored with how soft and gentle her eyes looked under the minimal light as she spoke to you. You whispered, “me too.”
You were so screwed.
tag list: @abbyshands @ih8chickentenders @elliesprettygirl @justhereforinspopics @be3flow3r @hearts4joongie @plutolovesyou @bready101
#ellie williams#ellie tlou2#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fic#wlw fanfic#wlw#sapphic
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Heart On Your Sleeve Part 5
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!
This part includes the Russian torture scene, so adding a warning for gore/violence just to be safe!
-----
Eddie comes by Scoops, once Steve gets the job there.
The first time, he laughs at the sailor hat for a minute straight until Steve rolls his eyes and calls back, “I'm taking my lunch!”
“Now?” Robin bitches. “Did you actually get a girl to fall for those ridiculous li-” She cuts off as she comes out of the back room and sees Eddie. “Oh. Huh.”
Eddie flashes a sharp toothed smile at her, and Steve rolls his eyes again and elbows him.
“I'll be back before the actual lunch rush hits this way,” he tells Robin, untying his apron and depositing it to the side of the counter.
To Eddie, he says, “Here, since this brought you so much joy,” and drops the sailor hat onto the top of Eddie's head.
Eddie gives a squawk and squirms around like he's trying to bat him off, though Steve notices he doesn't actually push him away as Steve adjusts the hat to his liking.
“There,” Steve says, shooting Eddie a teasing little grin as he steps back. “You keep that on the whole time, and I'll buy you lunch.”
“A small price to pay for a free meal,” Eddie says solemnly, but his eyes are crinkled a little like they do when he smiles, and he doesn't take the hat off the entire time they eat together.
—
He and Eddie sit out back behind Scoops, passing a cigarette back and forth. It's the end of Steve's shift, and technically he doesn't have to stay anymore, but he's not in a hurry to get home.
Dustin's away at camp, after all.
“Why the hell are you working here?” Eddie asks, sounding like he's been mulling it over for a while.
Steve snorts. “Needed to work somewhere.”
“Okay, fine, but haven't you done the lifeguard thing for like three years?”
Steve - didn't actually expect Eddie to know that, and he shoots him a little smile before he rolls his eyes. “Not a real job, according to my dad. It's just hanging out at the pool all day.”
Eddie scoffs. “Would your dad even know a real job if it bit him?”
“My dad's never really had to work for anything,” Steve mutters. “I didn't get into any of the colleges they wanted me to, so I needed to be taught a lesson. Pretty sure he was hoping it'd humiliate me.”
Eddie tips back, looking him over. “You don't look very humiliated.”
Steve shrugs. “Because I'm not. Yeah, sure, the outfit and the hat are stupid, but work is work. Ice cream makes people happy, I make people happy, it could be worse. Besides, he has no idea what I'm even making here. Every paycheck is a little more I can stash away where he can't touch it.”
Eddie's watching him very closely now, in a way that Steve's never seen before.
“How long have you been doing that?” he asks quietly.
“What, saving money that my dad doesn't know about?” Steve asks.
“Yeah.”
Eddie's face is serious - far more serious than Steve's ever seen him, than he thinks the situation warrants. Steve frowns.
“Since I got my first job, I guess? Anything I ask for from him comes with some kind of string attached, and I got tired of paying for it.”
Eddie's quiet again. “You've gotten in a lot of fights the last couple of years,” he says, slow and careful like he thinks Steve might bolt. “Lot of bruises.”
He clocks on to what Eddie's trying to get at, then, and a rush of relief washes over him as he hurries to set him straight. “Oh, no, my dad's not abusive or anything, just an asshole. He's never hit me.”
Eddie considers that. “Your dad can be an abusive piece of shit without ever hitting you.”
Steve licks his lips, takes his turn watching Eddie a little more closely. “Sounds like you're familiar with it.”
Eddie laughs, sharp and humorless. “Come on, man, you know who my dad is.”
“I know what people say about him,” Steve agrees. “But I've learned not to listen to rumors.”
Eddie flicks the cigarette butt off into the distance.
Steve gets out another one, puts it between his lips to light it. He takes a long drag, then - pulls his heart out of his chest, setting it between them before he passes the cigarette over.
Eddie's eyes drop down to his heart as he takes the cigarette, but this time he doesn't say anything.
Steve still doesn't ask to see his, even though he's tempted.
“You can listen to these ones,” Eddie says after a while. “They're mostly true.”
“You deserve better,” Steve tells him.
He looks over when Eddie doesn't say anything, finding him watching his heart. It's beating strong and steady.
“So do you,” Eddie says without looking up.
They sit in silence for a while longer, until the cigarette is gone.
Then Steve tucks his heart back into his chest and stands up. “Come on, I'll get us lunch.”
Eddie scowls at him. “You bought last time.”
“Yeah, but a conversation like that deserves a burrito bigger than your head, and I've got employee discount,” Steve counters, holding out his hand.
Eddie concedes, accepting his hand up.
—
Steve keeps making up excuses to buy Eddie lunch after that, every time he comes by at the end of an early shift or close to his lunch break on a later shift.
One day he gets them both pizza from Sbarro, and they sit at one of the sticky plastic tables in the food court. It's so small their knees knock together as they devour their slices, but -
But it also means that Steve can tuck his ankle up against Eddie's, hook his foot half around it, and have an excuse if he needs one.
He doesn't need one.
Eddie doesn't move his foot away, but he does shoot wide eyed little looks over at Steve like he's not sure whether this is a joke or not, and -
“Hi,” Steve says, soft and ridiculous and holy shit, he has to have something better than hi.
But apparently hi works, because Eddie ducks his head, looks back up at him with something soft and wary and surprised all at once.
“Hi,” Eddie says back.
And that's -
It's something.
—
Steve gets closer to Robin - their bickering has started to become playful, and even though her teasing's never been mean, now it sounds almost fond. She still gets annoyed when customers watch them work in complete sync and think they're a couple, but now she just rolls her eyes and complains to him later instead of throwing things off by trying to protest it.
It's nice. He thinks he might be winning her over, and it makes the days pass a lot quicker.
—
He doesn't see Eddie for a week after their pizza lunch.
He tries not to think much about it, just tells himself that if he hasn't seen him by the time Dustin comes back from camp, he'll call him.
—
This isn't like any beating he's taken before.
Steve'd thought he was prepared. He was prepared, at least in the beginning. Billy did just as much damage, even if it was in a shorter span of time, and the ache in his ribs and stomach and face is familiar.
He can handle it.
Besides, it doesn't matter how much they hurt him - protecting Robin and Dustin and Erica is more important than anything else.
"Let's take a look at his heart," one of the soldiers says. "See how honest he's really being."
Steve's pretty sure he makes a choked off little guh.
He doesn't want to let them anywhere near his heart.
But on the other hand - he isn't lying as much as they think he is, and maybe that will prove it? They'll have to undo his hands to get him to take it out, and he briefly considers trying to get the drop on them, but he has to concede that probably won't go very well for him.
It's not like they're really asking for his opinion, anyway.
They aren't making any move to untie his hands, either, and Steve's brow scrunches in confusion.
He sees one of them holding what looks like a mix of a gun and a taser. It - honestly, it looks pretty stupid, like a prop in a bad movie, and he wrinkles his nose at it.
They press it up against his ribcage, pull the trigger - and fuck, he jolts back with the force of it.
His chest splits open.
The shock of it makes him numb for a precious few moments, staring down at the gaping hole in his own chest. The pain doesn't hit him until they take his heart out. It feels like it's being carved out of him, ripped from his chest as though he were being mauled by a wild animal, and he has the somewhat hysterical thought that he shouldn't be alive for this.
His heart was torn out of his chest, and somehow it's still beating, erratic and racing.
"Hmm," one of the soldiers says, tilting his heart this way and that. "Feels real."
The soldier squeezes it, and this time Steve screams at the pressure tightening around his heart, making him convulse in his bonds.
The second soldier laughs.
"They're making such good fakes these days," the second soldier says.
The first soldier relaxes his grip, and Steve sucks in ragged gulps of air, too disoriented to really understand what they're saying.
"Much more sophisticated than patches and paint," the first soldier agrees. "What good would a spy be if he showed his real heart?"
"No," Steve protests. "It's real, come on, you can feel it."
There’s no sign of deception from his heart, but it's beating too wildly from the pain to really make a difference.
"We'll see about that," the second soldier says, handing a switchblade to the first.
The first soldier presses the flat of the blade against his heart. "Let's see what's underneath if we shave a little off?"
—
Steve doesn't really remember anything after that. He must have passed out, because the next thing he hears is Robin's voice, and he realizes he's in a different room, tied back to back with her.
His chest aches.
Everything aches, really, but his chest is the worst of it.
Steve looks down, sees himself solid and in one piece again. He might have thought the whole thing was just a pain induced hallucination if it weren't for the unstable beat of his heart. It's pulsing unsteadily, and he feels as though if he even breathes too hard, it might burst into pieces with the next beat.
But he's not alone now.
He's with Robin, and she makes everything better, and even though his heart beats too fast when he thinks of how much he likes her - it's the good kind of too fast, not the kind that makes him think his heart is going to explode.
He is pretty sure that his heart is going to explode, though, that they're probably going to die here. He knows Robin is thinking the same thing - he just knows, like going through Russian secret agent torture together has made them automatically on the same wave length.
They were heading towards being friends before this, he knows, wonders if maybe they could have ever been for real.
It's a shame he doesn't think he'll ever get to find out.
—
Dustin and Erica find them before Steve loses any fingers.
Which is good. He might not be on the basketball team anymore, but he still plays with Lucas sometimes, and he likes all of his fingers attached to his hand and not on the floor of a secret Russian base.
He tells Dustin that as they're escaping from said Russian secret base. Dustin looks a little pale, hugs him tight around the middle, which makes Steve laugh - it should hurt, he thinks, but he doesn't feel a thing.
The only thing he feels is kind of floaty, and the itchy, overheated sensation he always gets when he's had his heart locked inside his chest for too long.
When no one's looking, Steve takes his heart out of his chest.
His stomach turns.
Whatever he's feeling about it seems distant, too far removed for him to be able to react to it, but the physical sensation of his stomach heaving is present and accounted for.
It only barely looks like a heart. The shape of it is hardly visible, more like a double handful of the precut chuck roast he gets to use as stew meat, sluggishly oozing every time it beats.
The thought of putting it back in his chest makes his stomach heave again, but even like this, he knows he can't keep it out in the open.
He rips off the red scarf from his Scoops uniform, wraps it around his heart to hold it together, and ties it off.
There.
Now no one will notice.
-----
This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!
Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @samsoble @persnicketysquares @cryptid-system @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse
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kisses before dinner —the harrington family gets ready for a dinner party. mom!reader, 3k
"...and I told mommy she needed my help but your mom doesn't like listening to me anymore," Steve says, eyebrows pulled together, "because of that one time I told her the side of the refrigerator was supposed to feel warm and it broke. But I'm usually right."
Wren blinks at him dopily where she lies in the dip of his thighs. Steve has his knees up, back flat on the couch and head propped by a pink fluffy heart pillow from Bethie's bed to speak to her face to face.
"I promise you'll understand when you're older. I'm a genius." He strokes her little forehead. Steve's youngest daughter is too baby to look like anybody, but he's starting to think she looks like him anyway. "And now mom has to run the washing machine again when we were already super duper busy."
"Shut up!" you yell from the kitchen.
Bethie giggles from the same place, seemingly, raising her voice to join in, "Yeah, daddy! Shut up!"
"That's so not nice." Steve shakes his head at Wren in dramatic disbelief. She smiles at him. "Isn't that mean? Don't you think that's sick?"
"You're being a know-it-all again!" you continue. "And we'd be less busy if you were helping me!"
"I'm sick of helping," Steve says conversationally. "I help all day long."
Wren gurgles and lifts one of her hands toward him. Steve holds it in his, rubbing at her palm with a gentle thumb. She totally gets what he's saying, agrees with him no doubt, breathing out heavily as Steve gives her hand a wave up and down.
"Steve," you say, dropping the angry act to pull him in, "please, sweetheart, I really do need your help."
"How am I supposed to say no to that?" Steve whispers. "Does she guilt trip you that way?"
Wren doesn't giggle, but the breathy, happy sound she makes as he crunches forward to kiss her forehead is close enough to make Steve laugh himself. He moves her carefully into the curve of his arm and stands, wishing he could stretch, exhausted by another long week but undeniably happy. "Let's go see what they want," he murmurs to Wren.
You and Bethie are in the kitchen by the stove. She's wearing oven mitts too big for her, and you're crouched behind her offering steady instructions. "Don't touch the sides, my love. Only the baking tray. If it feels warm and you're not happy, tell me, and I'll take it straight away." You wear your own oven gloves.
"I can do it," Beth insists, squaring her features.
Beth takes the baking tray and its cookies into her hands, walking with short steps to the counter, where she slides the tray up high. You lean over her to make sure it's settled before closing the oven and dashing a kiss into her cheek. "Well done, gorgeous girl," you say, scratching lightly at her shoulder as she preens under the praise. "One day you'll be making cookies all by yourself."
"But not for a while?" she asks, startled.
You kiss her again. "Not for a long, long time."
"Did you need my help or my approval?" Steve asks, his hand making a small thump with each pat he taps into Wren's back. "A taste tester, right?"
"I need you to find your other daughters. I have no idea where they are," you say with a rueful smile.
"Okay." Steve has carried babies. He's carried them for years, tiny ones and ones too big to need it, carried nonetheless. But something about Wren in all her newness makes him nervous. He hates carrying her up and down the stairs, too aware of the times he's missed a step or tripped up. "Can you take her?"
"Yes!" Bethie says, running to her unofficial chair at the dining table and holding out her mitted arms as she sits.
You nod at him and take the seat next to her. Steve hands Wren over into her sister's waiting hold, more than confident you're still there to take over if things get overwhelming. Wren looks comically large in Bethie's lap.
"I have her, dad." Beth leans down to touch her nose to Wren's. "Hi, Wren. Hello, hello," she says softly.
Steve gives your cheek a swift but loving stroke and leaves in search of the other kids. He can hear Dove in her room talking to herself in make believe, but Avery, the oldest, isn't with her, nor is she in her bedroom. Steve knocks on the bathroom door.
"Are you in there, Ave?"
No answer. Steve raises his voice. "I'm coming in."
He peeks inside slowly but she's not there. Eyebrows raised, Steve asks, "Avery, where are you?" Nothing. "Avery Harrington, don't make me worry! Please."
He lets his head drift to one side, listening for an answer. Avery rarely gets told off and she hates it; she'd jump to tell him where she was if she were up here.
Or so he thinks. Just as he's taking the stairs again to look for her someplace he must have missed, he hears sniffling coming from the master bedroom.
Idiot, he thinks, relief taking tight hold. He doesn't like not knowing where the girls are. He should've checked your room to begin with.
"Ave?" he says, opening his bedroom door. "You in here?"
"I'm here, dad," she says, peering up from the space between the top of the bed and his nightstand, kneeling on the carpeted floor.
"What are you doing down there? We gotta get ready for Aunt Robin's party."
Her cheeks shine in the slice of light from the open door. Steve closes it behind him and flicks on the big light, rounding the end of the bed to help her up. He hooks his hands under her arms and pulls her into his chest, bed springs creaking as their joined weight lands.
"Why are you crying?" he asks, cuddling her to his front. "What's wrong? Why didn't you come and find me? You can't stay here crying all by yourself, that's not cool. How am I supposed to make it better if I don't know what's wrong?"
"Dove bit me."
Steve gasps. "Again?"
"On my hand, dad." She holds up her wrist. "It hurts."
He presses his cheek to the top of her head, taking her arm tenderly to analyse the bite. It's a nasty thing, not bleeding but cruel and stark. "I'm sorry," he says.
"You said I can't be mean–"
"No, you can't–"
"But it was really mean."
"I know," he murmurs, "but I just don't… we can't be mean to Dove when she bites because she doesn't know it's wrong, okay? She doesn't remember. She knows it's the wrong thing to do, but by the time I tell her she doesn't know what she did." What Steve means is that the first time Dove bit Avery, Avery reacted on impulse and slapped her sister in the stomach. There isn't a bridge yet to connect to Dove why she might have received such a thing (though Steve teaches all the girls that hitting is never okay no matter what), so Dove just thought she was being hit. It was a very tense half hour of tears.
Steve rubs Avery's back as she starts to cry in earnest. "I will tell her not to bite you, honey. I swear, I won't let her be mean to you. I'll tell her until she understands."
He's been trying to teach Dove not to bite, but saying 'no' doesn't seem to do anything. Positive incentives don't last, and taking her toys wouldn't make much sense, because again, she doesn't get it.
"You know," Steve says, wiping her cheeks tenderly, "I'll tell her again and again and again until she stops, and it'll work, because it worked with you."
"What?"
"You used to bite me sometimes, but you used to bite mom all the time."
Avery looks at him in horror. "I did?"
He puts her down onto her feet and takes her hand. He'd like to tell her this story while sitting down, but Robin's house beckons and time is running short. "Mom would come home from work and you'd be very happy to see her, but she would ask you what you did today and where we went and you'd bite her."
He peeks into Dove's room and finds her missing. Downstairs, you say, "No! No, no, babe!" and he assumes she's been found.
"Why would I do that?"
Steve holds her hand buoyed between them as he descends the stairs. "We decided it was because you missed her. When your Dove's age you don't know how to say that. You don't even know what that is. I'm a thousand years old and I don't even know what I'm feeling half the time. So mom stopped hugging you after work for a bit until you calmed down."
"But I don't go to work, dad. Why did Dove bite me?"
"What were you doing?"
"We were playing with Mr Scruffles and the care bears and she just bit me for no reason!"
Steve stops at the bottom of the stairs. "Were you being a bossy boots?"
Avery glares at him. "I just told her to stop taking Funshine bear."
"Well," Steve says, smiling at her in apology, "maybe, next time, you can come and tell me, and then I'll tell her to stop taking Funshine bear, and then when she wants to bite someone she bites me instead of you. That could work, yeah?" He would much prefer it.
Steve takes Avery to the kitchen, where you've transferred Wren into her bassinet while Bethie eats a cookie, her cheeks messy with chocolate, and Dove languishes in your arms, small hands touching your hair curiously.
"Dove, will you look at this?" he asks, showing her Avery's bite mark. "You see that, honey? That's what you did when you bit your sister. We don't bite."
You gasp. "No!" you say, stern but far from cruel. "We don't bite. We only bite when we want to eat something."
Dove frowns.
"When you bite," Steve says, trying to appeal to her smarts. It'll stick eventually. "You give Avery an owie. That's why we can't bite, okay?"
Dove can tell she's being chided even if she doesn't totally get why. "No," she says unhappily.
"Can you say sorry to Avery?" you ask, reassuring her with a gentle squeeze. "Say, I'm sorry, Avery."
"Sorry, Ave'y," she mumbles.
Avery can't glare for long. She doesn't hold a grudge, not like her dad. "It's okay. You didn't mean to."
You beam at Avery like she's hung the moon. "You're so nice, my big girl. Can I have a look at your wrist? Did that hurt?"
Her mother's concern draws fresh tears. You swap children, and Dove quickly forgets what happened as Avery cries in little sniffles on the countertop. Steve brims with a familiar brand of pride as you comfort her, kissing and offering treats to help her feel better. I picked the right one might be applicable, only Steve didn't choose you so much as he happened upon you one day like a miracle, and then begged to keep you. Luckily for him, you've always been very agreeable on that front.
(As in, you love him more than can be said in any one language.)
"What are you upto?" Steve asks Bethie.
She shows him her food-covered hands. He nods like this is awesome, but in reality chocolate stains her t-shirt and she's going to have to change before they leave. Dove rams herself against his leg and looks up with her eyes widened.
"What?" he asks.
"Um…"
"What do you want?" he asks, softer. She starts to frown again. Steve bends. "Drink? Crackers?" No dice. "What about some pear slices?"
Dove loves pears more than anything, the sticky, sugary sliced kind from the can. Her frown disappears and she walks off, thankful to be understood. Steve's just grateful he wasn't bitten.
"What else did you need?" Steve asks, winding around you where you're cleaning Avery's cheeks. A damp washcloth drips down your arm.
"More time. Have any?"
"Wren's bag is done, bottles done, Bethie's dinner." He whispers the last part. Bethie is a picky eater and she grows pickier with time, and Robin knows this, but she's not a parent (as sweet and caring as she might be for the girls). Only something you or Steve have made is something Bethie will deign to eat, and she's insecure about it despite having no reason to be. "Beth needs a new top. Your blouse needs to go in the dryer, and I can't find my nice pants. Avery?"
"I don't need anything."
"You sure? You have Mr Scruffles?"
She wraps her arms around your neck. "Just want a hug."
"Then I guess I'm busy while daddy does all my chores," you tease Steve lightly, your touch similarly soft where it tracks up and down Avery's arm. "I'm sorry Dove bit you again. It's not fair. Not fair at all. Maybe we should only have you playing downstairs until me and dad figure it out, okay? I don't want her to keep taking bits of you."
Steve clears the checklist. Not to brag or anything, but he's a pro. You both are. Life is hectic as always and you knew getting out the door would be a process, so you planned accordingly, and you arrive at Robin's with time to spare, though Dove smells strongly of sugary pears and Bethie's new shirt has fingerprints on the back.
"Hi, crew!" Robin greets. "It's my favourite Harringtons!"
"We're your only Harringtons."
"That's not true, I went to college with a Harrington." Robin ushers the girls inside. They want one thing and one thing alone —hugs. Dove is the most insistent, dropping your hand to offer Robin her arms. She picks the small girl up and smiles at her with a monumental amount of love. Robin doesn't have favourites but Dove demands it, sometimes. Avery says, "Hello, Aunt Robin," and hugs her stomach, while Bethie puts her arm behind Avery and hugs them both.
Steve's arm shakes. "Any chance I can get through? This is a really heavy baby."
"Hi," Robin says, ignoring him without guilt. "You guys are the best part about having a best friend."
Steve logs that one for later revenge and eases around the mass of bodies to take Wren into the living room. "Holy fuck," he says, "I thought you weren't coming?"
Eddie rolls his eyes. "I wanted to see the girls. It has nothing to do with you."
They hug and pat each other on the back, and then Eddie drops to his knees in front of Wren's car seat to smile at her. "I love her so much. Can I have this one? Y'already have so many."
"No you absolutely cannot. Where's Dustin?"
"They're all in the backyard. Mora's teaching them how to make grass flutes, or something."
"How'd you get out of that?"
Eddie shrugs. "She doesn't like me. Doesn't make any sense, goth and metal are like brothers."
"Is she goth? I thought we settled on hippie who wears dark clothing."
"You guys are such losers!" Robin says, like a tree adorned in girl-shaped ornaments. "Don't bitch about Mora."
"Don't swear in front of my kids!"
You, having taken off your shoes and coat, unlike Steve, shimmy around the table. "He said 'fucking bitch' in front of Bethie the other day," you gossip, sitting by your friend's side. Eddie gives you a quick hug. You're undoubtedly his favourite Harrington.
"He's a disgusting man who shouldn't have kids."
You gasp and elbow him. "How dare you."
"Can we go play with Stinky?" Avery asks Robin.
Robin puts Dove down, short hair flying every which way, "If you can find him. But be nice, okay? He's agitated today. Mora says it's something about the supermoon."
Avery laughs and Dove races to follow her sister up the stairs. "Ave, remember what I said, okay?" Steve calls after her. "Come and tell me if she's being bad! And no going in the bathroom!"
Bethie remains, oddly. Though it's obvious why she's stayed the longer she lingers, her gaze flickering between you and Eddie.
He holds his arms out. "Hello, Beth. You want a bro hug?"
Bethie laughs and meanders into his waiting arms, where he pat-pat-pats her back like he did to Steve, eliciting a wave of happy giggles. "You've gotten so big again!" Eddie says, moving her away kindly. "Woah!"
"I'm glad people have stopped saying that to me," you joke.
Steve's delighted, laughing loud and sudden, and you're always pleased to have made him laugh, practically collapsing in his direction. He pulls at you until you're arm's reach.
"What does that mean, Eddie?" Bethie whispers.
Eddie pulls her into his lap. "It means your mom is happy about baby Wren being born."
"I'm really happy too."
"I bet you are! Your dad told me you're like his little helper, is that true?"
Steve turns into your cheek. A quick stolen moment before he kisses under your ear and pulls away. "Wow," he says, smiling at you, "could we, like, actually have a conversation right now? A full one?"
You beam. "What do you wanna talk about?"
Steve could happily talk about everything and nothing with you. Before bed you guys are usually tired but excited enough to be alone together that you'll talk about the colour of the new dish soap or Avery's broken pinky nail. "Seen any good movies lately?"
You give him the look. He practically invented it, that sticky, gooey eyed love as you murmur, "Mm, no. Don't think so. How about you?"
He leans in for a kiss.
"Yikes," Eddie says, covering a giggling Bethie's eyes with his hands. "Robin, house rules, please!"
Steve drops his arms heavily over your shoulders for a warm hug. "He's just jealous," he whispers.
#kisses before dinner universe#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#stranger things#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#dad!steve harrington#dad!steve harrington x reader#dad!steve harrington x mom!reader#steve harrington x afab!reader#afab!reader#mom!reader#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fandom#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fluff
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I've been thinking about this post by @foulwitchknight for like three days nonstop, so thanks for the brain worms.
It's after dark when the knocking starts on the trailer door, the sound frantic enough to make Eddie anxious as he pulls himself up off the couch and goes to answer.
He isn't expecting to find Steve on the other side, but his surprise at seeing his boyfriend is squashed when the scent of distress hits him, acrid and bitter on the back of his tongue.
Eddie barely gets out a "Baby?" before Steve is babbling, clearly distraught about something.
"I didn't know, Eddie, I swear. I didn't have anything to do with this and it's- My dad, he just fucking does this shit without even talking to me about it and-"
"Stevie, sweetheart," Eddie cuts in as he reaches out to grab Steve's biceps, trying to ground him a bit. "What are you talking about, baby? What's going on?"
Steve whines, low and forlorn, and offers something to Eddie. The newspaper is crumpled from the iron grip Steve had on it, but Eddie takes it and smooths it out a bit. He scans the page, trying to figure out what could have Steve so worked up, and then he sees it.
Richard and Catherine Harrington are proud to announce the engagement of their son, Steven, to Jack Wright, son of Donald and Linda Wright.
There's more after it, something about honor and business, but Eddie doesn't care about the details. He just looks up at Steve with a soft "Is this real?"
Steve nods even as he shrinks in on himself and mutters a broken "I didn't know," and Eddie can't help it. He grabs Steve again and pulls him inside, into the tightest hug he can manage while he kicks the door shut behind them.
Somehow he gets them back to his room and on the bed, needing to hide his Omega away in his den, needing to keep him safe.
"I don't want him, Eddie," Steve mutters into his collar, his own grip on the Alpha nearly crushing - but Eddie wouldn't have it any other way. "Want you, just you."
Eddie presses his face into Steve's hair, breathing in his marzipan scent, sweet once again now that the burnt edge to it has faded. "I know, sweetheart. We'll figure something out, I promise."
Nails dig into Eddie's back through his thin t-shirt, and then Steve is pulling back just enough to look Eddie in the face. "Give me your bite."
"Steve-"
"Please, Eddie. We were already planning on it, and- I don't want them to even have a chance to take me away from you. You're my Alpha, and I want to be your mate more than anything in the world. Just- please."
Eddie's heart swells and all he can do is nod before swooping in and kissing Steve, hard and desperate. The Omega responds so beautifully under Eddie's touch, and it takes no time for them to strip off their clothes, no time for them to touch and push and press until Eddie is joined with his beautiful mate-to-be.
He can't help the way he rambles as they move together, a litany of "Gonna bite you, baby. Gonna mate you, pup you, give you anything and everything you want."
Steve whines and squeezes where their hands are laced together in the bedding beside his head, a low mantra of "Please please please," falling from his lips.
They hit their climax together and Eddie sinks his teeth into the meat of Steve's neck, into the mating gland that rests under the skin. He groans at the taste of copper and almond that floods his senses, and barely registers the pinch of a bite on his own neck.
Eddie weeps as the bond snaps into place, and Steve isn't any better, fat tears falling down his face as they lay there and bask in the feeling of completion. Of knowing that they belong to each other, that nothing and no one can ever separate them.
They wake up early the next morning and take their time packing Eddie's things, trying to stall until Wayne arrives home from his shift. The man knows something's up the second he steps into the trailer, and it's a long, tearful goodbye full of promises to call and visit before they're climbing into Eddie's van.
They're on the road when Eddie reaches over to take Steve's hand in his own and squeezes it gently. "Hey. I love you," he says, sparing a glance over at his Omega, his mate, his Stevie.
He gets a gentle smile and a soft "I love you too," in return, and that's really all Eddie needs.
#ive literally been thinking about this nonstop for days like i had to do something about it#steddie fic#steddie#omegaverse#alpha eddie munson#omega steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington#joey writes
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Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s child
Tony Stark x child!reader
warnings: alcohol ment,
a/n: so i just really think that the concept of tony having the party kid as opposed to nerdy avenger kid would be a really cool idea to explore teehee. most of this does actually take place pre-avengers tho!!
prompt:
you we’re quite the exhausting kid
“is this really how it felt to raise me?” -tony
many of nights he’d find your bed empty, you’d snuck out to go have your fun as teenagers do
“yeah, boss, i imagine it was” -happy
you always showed back up in one piece (like him) and besides a little slap on the wrist you didn’t get much discipline
actually, it usually went like:
“so, where did you go off to last night?” -tony
“a party” -you
“really? didn’t want to loop me in before you snuck out…again?”
“last time i told you about a party you showed up!”
“uh—yeah, but it’s not like i went all dad on you and dragged you away or anything”
“yeah, you joined the party and offered to buy teenagers more booze”
“hey, they all loved you after that! and they couldn’t get enough of my classic dance moves” -tony, jokingly doing the sprinkler with one arm “but seriously, let me know next time”
“we’ll see about that” -you
^the above conversion went about the same every time
sometimes for entertainment purposes you’d try a little harder, throw a few pillows under the covers to make it look like you were still home to put a smile on tony’s face
“aw, y/n reminds me so much of me” -tony
tony was still partying at this point so you’d flip the script on him from time to time
“you were out late” -you
“what are you, a cop? leave me alone. actually, can you get me some aspirin and water?” -tony
“sure, one or two” -you
“make it three” -tony
he would nurse your occasional hangovers (what a great dad!)
okay, he didn’t always know when you were gone. he was busy a lot of the time with his own business and extracurriculars so you guys did just kinda do your own thing for certain stretches of time
honestly you could be a bit of a klepto in the best of ways
but only to tony and only for fun
“oh, great, where’s my car?” -tony
“which one?” -pepper
“the black one!” -tony
“be more specific” -pepper
“the only one missing from my garage!” -tony
“yeah, i know, just wanted to give you some more time to think about it” -pepper
“i changed the code on the lockbox like, five times this week. did they hotwire it?” -tony
“we are talking about your kid, right? pretty sure they just hacked it” -pepper
“i am…so proud” -tony
you MAY have gotten a few close calls with authorities, but nothing tony couldn’t handle
and up until tony’s accident, the phrase “you’re going to give me a heart attack” was silly and endearing
“you might actually give me a heart attack, y/n, give a guy some warning or just say please for god’s sake” -tony, now comes with an arc reactor in his chest
“sorry” -you
“what—huh—didn’t hear ya, wanna say that a little louder?” -tony, very sarcastically
i tell ya when he got that armor u couldn’t tell if u were gonna flip out at him or invite him to a party
or steal it for…you didn’t even know what
but tony was 3 steps ahead of you when all this came to be
and you weren’t very interested in weapons, still just parties and dumb fun for you
“dad, i dont wanna be a nerd, will you just let me go out?” -you
“come on! just help me in the lab a few hours, what’s it gonna hurt?” -tony
“my social status” -you
“might i remind you you’re a stark? i think you’ll live if you miss one party” -tony
“you’d be surprised” -you
“hey, i almost died! give your old man a break” -tony
once tony got involved with SHIELD and the avengers he got even busier really
and in came the parenting advice from fury, clint, nat, steve
“hey, i don’t see you raising a teenager, back off” -tony
*clint side eye*
steve once tried to give you a good talking to, but you reminded him a great bit of your father with your stubbornness
“you done? i dont think you should be giving out any parenting tips fresh off the ice” -you
tony was kind of proud of you for sticking to your guns
especially around such powerful people
but you had a knack for that and could do it to practically anyone
mostly because you felt like an invincible teenager since you were raised by tony, who also thought himself an invincible teenager at one point
u tried to tone down giving tony grief when he started having panic attacks
since u accidentally caused a few by pushing boundaries and staying out for several nights in a row
cuz as tony gained more enemies, he thought you’d be in more danger
which was true
“happy, you’re y/n’s personal bodyguard” -tony
“no!” -you
“uh, cool? any fun parties planned tonight? i’ll be the designated driver. god knows i’ve been tony’s too many times” -happy
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //
#tony stark imagine#tony stark x reader#tony stark#tony stark x child!reader#tony stark x son!reader#tony stark x daughter!reader#stark!reader#iron dad#iron man x reader#iron man#iron man imagine#avengers x reader#avengers imagine#avengers#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel x reader
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illicit affairs
𝜗𝜚 synopsis: Tony finds out his son is dating his intern. His intern!
𝜗𝜚 pairing(s): MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!male reader; Tony Stark x son!reader
𝜗𝜚 warning(s): nothing really this is just silly fluff and Tony being clueless
𝜗𝜚 note(s): English is not my first language!!! Based on this request, hope u enjoy anon :3 title from taylor swifts "illicit affairs" !!
Everyone in the Avengers tower knows you and Peter are dating! Well, almost everyone in the Avengers tower knows you and Peter are dating. The only one who hasn't yet figured it out is the one and only, Tony Stark, your dad.
Honestly, it's a surprise he hasn't found out yet with the way you and Peter have been looking at each other with longing heart eyes and cuddling during movie nights. And he calls himself a genius...
It's sort of become a game for you and Peter, seeing how long it'll take for Tony to realize what's really going on.
What makes it even more unbelievable is that Pepper was the first one to know!
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You make your way down to the lab where you knew Peter would be— he'd texted, telling you he would be down in the labs today— working on something for his suit with Tony.
You slide into the lab, finding Peter sat in a chair, eagerly chatting with your dad and typing something on a tablet at the same time.
You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around him, hugging him to your chest and burying your face into his hair. "Hi, Pete." You murmur.
"H— hey!" Peter's face flushes a pretty pink color and you can't help but smirk. He's so easily flustered.
You almost forget Tony is there until he starts talking. "Oh, hey kid! Care to help us a little? We could really use an extra set of hands." He says, acting like the way you're holding Peter is totally platonic.
You nod, mumbling a sure, but not before sending Peter a look. He cannot be serious... He shoots back an agreeing gaze.
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It's movie night, most of the Avengers are scattered across the room, sitting in all kinds of weird positions that make you want to laugh. You and Peter are laying on one of the couches, practically entangled together.
Everyone is arguing about which movie to watch when Tony walks in with Steve trailing behind him, their arms filled with snacks.
Steve looks at you and Peter, mumbling something about lovebirds and takes a seat on one of the recliners.
Tony settles on a loveseat next to Pepper and joins in on the movie debate.
You and Peter share a look, Tony definitely heard what Cap said, right?
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You walk into the kitchen where Peter is sitting on a barstool, leaning onto the island and nodding along to whatever Tony— who is currently refilling his coffee cup— is saying.
You press a kiss to Peter's cheek in greeting, sitting down on another barstool. He gives you a soft smile in response and grabs ahold of your hand.
Tony finishes getting his coffee, ruffles your hair and leaves the room wordlessly, like you hadn't just kissed your boyfriend— that he doesn't know is your boyfriend— right in front of him!
You and Peter stare at each other for a silent second before bursting into laughter. Tony is so clueless it's hilarious.
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When Tony finally does find out it's possibly in the most embarrassing way ever.
You and Peter were in your room, making out on your bed, when Tony walked in.
"Dad—!" You yell and scramble to get off of Peter, whose face is currently the shade of bright red reminiscent of a tomato.
"Sorry, sorry!" Tony says quickly, at least he sounds apologetic.
You glare at him with no real heat in your expression. "You could've, you know, knocked before you came in. Like you're supposed to." You grumble.
"I know, I know. But uhm... since when were you two a thing?" He asks, almost sounding hesitant.
Peter looks like he's trying his hardest not to laugh, barely succeeding. "Everyone else figured it out months ago, if that gives you any idea."
"What—" Tony begins but you interrupt him; "And Pepper was the first one to find out"
"And she didn't tell me!?" He sounds so betrayed, it's so funny you can barely respond. "Apparently not!" You get out before bursting into giggles, Peter laughing beside you.
Tony turns on his heel and rushes into the hallway "Pepper!" He cries out.
At this, you and Peter can't hold it in anymore, erupting into the kind of laughter that makes your tummy hurt and leaves your sides sore afterwards.
And he calls himself a genius.
𝜗𝜚 note: this is longer that anything ive posted previously so thats why this took me so long to post 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹 thanks 4 reading!!! reblogs r super appreciated!! :3
#𝜗𝜚 nick writes#peter parker x male reader#peter parker x reader#x male reader#male reader#spiderman x male reader#spiderman x reader#stark!reader#peter parker x stark!reader#tony stark x son!reader
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Eddie is holed up in the office of his and Steve’s home working on some writing when he notices an odd kind of commotion coming from upstairs.
Now, he and Steve have three daughters under the age of ten, so commotion is pretty much a baseline for them, but it’s odd because it sounds like Steve might actually be involved this time, and that makes it especially weird because Eddie was pretty sure that Steve was taking the kids to see a movie to give Eddie a few hours to maybe hit that word count goal (he probably won't, but whatever).
It's just about odd enough for Eddie to go investigate further and, indeed, he finds a very much ticked-off Steve standing outside of their middle daughter Robbie’s closed bedroom door.
“What the hell is going on?” Eddie asks.
Steve rounds on him.
“She’s driving me insane,” Steve says, “That kid is you in a seven-year-old’s body, and I’m going insane.”
“Wait, can you…” Ed shook his head, “What’s happening?”
“I thought it would be fun to take the girls to that new Nanny McPhee movie because they liked the first one, right?” he starts
“Sure.”
“The second – the second – I suggested it, Robbie starts ranting and raving. Ed, do you know what she said to me?
“Oh god,” Eddie said warily, “What’d she say?”
“She said sequels aren’t passion projects, Papa. They’re just for money. Who the fuck do you think she learned that one from, Ed?”
And yeah, shit, that might be Eddie’s bad.
“Whatever,” Steve says before Eddie has a chance to respond, “So she doesn’t wanna go – that’s fine – but, shocker, the other two still want to go, and just as we’re walking out the door, Robbie demands that we wait for her because she actually does want to come and now,” Steve pauses to hold in a laugh as Robbie scutters out of her room in the direction of the bathroom, one shoe on and an earring half-in, “Now we’re gonna be so fuckin’ late because this one can’t just throw on a sweatshirt and get in the car.”
Eddie knows for a fact that Robbie had spent the entire weekend in the same pajamas she’d worn to bed on Friday night, but now she’s donned a denim dress with a red t-shirt and black tights underneath. She’s got black combat boots on her feet (just one at the moment, actually), and she’s wearing the leather jacket Eddie had found at a thrift shop in New York to complete the ensemble.
“Look at this kid,” Steve says, following Robbie into the bathroom and watching as she tried to fix her earring with one hand and her hair with the other, “Robbie, it’s August. It’s almost ninety degrees outside. Maybe think about ditching the leather.”
“I don’t care,” she fires back, “It’s about the look, Papa.”
“We’re going to a movie theater. It’ll be pitch black. Nobody will be looking at anything other than the movie. Let’s go.”
But Robbie is already pushing past him with a belligerent, “Outta my way. I gotta get another necklace.”
Steve manages to snag Robbie by the back of her jacket and swing her up into his arms.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he says as Robbie furiously tries to squirm out of his grip to no avail, “Oh, I’m Robbie and I’m four feet tall and I get up-in-arms about everything and I’m gonna wear a leather jacket in August even though I once got heat exhaustion at the mall and gave my dad a fuckin’ heart attack.”
Robbie is in giggling hysterics by the time Steve ends his onslaught of mockery and puts her down.
“What do you think?” Steve asks, “You ready to go?”
“Yeah,” she says, and then she asks, “Can you help me find my other shoe?”
“And now she’s asking me for shit,” Steve comments in disbelief as Robbie ducks back into her room. He looks at Eddie, “Seriously, you need to call Wayne and apologize for everything you must have put him through.”
“Alright.”
#moe yells from the car: chop chop we’re gonna miss the previews!!#eddie to steve: this is big talk from someone who’s currently being scolded by his goddamn clone#liv’s steddie dads verse#steddie#steddie dads#steve harrington#eddie munson
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Home Sweet Home Part 3
Summary: "It's good to be home," you think as you arrive back in Hawkins, Indiana; not only three years older, but also as a mother.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Warnings: Just a shit ton of fluff
A/N: This took 8 consecutive hours to write so I hope you guys like it!! It's 3.8k words 😬 my back hurts from slouching over my laptop for so long so I'll edit this later.
A year and a half later
You and Steve have been doing so well at co-parenting for Penelope thus far. You had slowly eased Steve into her life, and she happily accepted him. It took her a while to comfortably call him ‘dad’ but once she started, that’s practically all she could say.
Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the day when she confidently called him ‘dad’ without him or you having to tell her.
It was late at night- well, it was late for Penelope to still be awake, and you were trying everything to put her to sleep but she wouldn’t stop crying.
“Shhh, Penny, it’s okay.” You try to comfort her in your arms.
Her cries echo off your newly purchased apartment and you groan, rocking the toddler to try and calm her down.
Spoiler alert: It didn’t work.
“Baby, please calm down-”
“I want daddy!” She cries louder and you halt your movements.
“What?”
“I want daddy!” Penelope sobs in your arms.
“I-” You’re stunned for a moment because this was the first-time hearing Penelope call Steve ‘daddy’ on her own without you or him coaxing her to say it. “Daddy will come over tomorrow, okay? But you need to go-”
“No!” She yelled, “I want daddy now!”
It didn’t seem like she was going to let up any time soon, so you walk over to the phone and hastily dial Steve’s number. It was only 8 o’clock so you knew he’d still be up- hopefully.
It rang twice before he picked up. “Hello?”
“Steve,” you breathed. “Thank god you’re still awake. Listen, I know it’s kinda last minute but Penelope won’t go to sleep and she keeps crying and asking for you so do you think you could maybe-”
“I’ll be there in a bit. Leave the door unlocked for me, yeah?” You could hear him moving around at his place, probably putting his shoes on.
“Okay, thank you so much.” You let out a sigh of relief.
Penelope’s cries get louder and you think Steve can hear her because he murmurs, “My poor baby…” You hear his car keys jingling soon after. “I’m on my way.”
A few minutes go by and Steve knocks two times before coming in. You know he probably sped all the way over and you make a mental note to scold him after Penelope goes to sleep.
“I’m here,” he huffed out, seemingly out of breath.
Upon hearing Steve’s voice, Penelope lifts her head from your shoulder and turns to her father all teary-eyed. “Daddy!” She cried, leaning out of your arms and toward him.
He visibly freezes at her words and his eyes pan over to you, wide. “Did she just-” he’s cut off by your daughter's cries of ‘daddy’ as she tries to grab him. “Come here, baby. Daddy’s here, don’t worry, sweetheart.”
He rubs her back soothingly and she slowly lays her head on his shoulder, doing the little hiccup-sob combination as she starts to calm down.
“Daddy…” She cried, “Stay.”
“It’s okay, sweet girl.” He hushes. “Daddy’s not going anywhere, alright?”
This seems to ease her mind because a few minutes later, she’s fully asleep in his arms. You silently guide him to her room where you watch as he puts her down and tucks her in. She stirs a bit but Steve gently pats her chest and she stills.
Once the both of you were sure she wasn’t going to wake up, you exit her room and walk back to the living room. The moment you enter the room, Steve pulls you into a hug.
“She called me daddy.” He beamed happily. “She fucking called me daddy, oh my god I feel like my heart is gonna burst open, I’m so happy right now.”
You hug him back, giggling a bit. “Yeah, it surprised me too.”
The both of you stay like that for a bit before he tears himself away from you and checks the time.
“It’s getting late, I should head home.” He says with a bit of a frown. “I can come by tomorrow if it’s alright with you?”
“Nuh uh,” you shake your head. “You promised your daughter that you’d stay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
You tell him he can take your room and you’ll sleep on the couch, but he refuses and says he’ll sleep on the couch instead. You protest but he shuts it down and you let out a huff but say ‘okay’ before going to get him a spare pillow and blanket for the night. You had started easing Steve into Penelope’s life little by little, starting with him visiting her at your place whenever he could (which he made sure to visit every single day no matter what). After she was comfortable with him being around, you segued into him taking her out, whether it be to the park, or to get ice cream (you also tagged along so that she was more comfortable). From that, he started taking her out, just him and her and not too long after, she started staying the night at his house.
He had done up a spare bedroom at his place just for her and she loved it so much. He pulled out all the stops for his little girl. Telling his parents about Penelope was a bit rough. He told you that they were a bit skeptical about him being the father but when Steve whipped a picture of little Penelope out of his wallet and showed them, they went silent.
From there, they were disappointed that he was so careless that it resulted in a child. He told them that they could be mad at him all they want but that he has a daughter now and he’s stepping up and although he doesn’t have a great relationship with them, he would love it if Penelope did.
They were obviously a bit hesitant but after meeting Penelope, they let their guards down. It made Steve happy that they showered her with love and affection but it also made him a bit upset because he never really experienced that from them.
He felt like this was a turning point for them, though. A good turning point.
Today was Penelope’s 4th birthday party and Steve insisted that it should be at his house. You didn’t fight him on it. You figured his house would be better suited for a birthday party than your little apartment.
A knock on the door alerts your ears and you quickly glance into the backyard, seeing Steve run around with Penelope, before opening the front door.
“Sorry I’m late,” Eddie huffs out, “the band stayed and performed late and I didn’t get home till way later and then when I woke up I couldn’t remember where I put Pen’s gift so this whole morning I was tearing up my place looking for it.” He then shows you a poorly wrapped gift box with a smile. “But I found it.”
You giggle. “You didn’t miss much, Penny’s just been playing with the kids and Steve so far.”
“Thank god.” Eddie sighs. “Where do I put this?”
“We have a table outside for gifts. Come on.” You beckon him to follow you.
Eddie sets the gift on the table then makes his rounds saying hi to everyone. Steve is chasing Penelope around the yard and he lets out a playful roar as he picks her up and catches her. She screams and he laughs, giving her a kiss before setting her down carefully.
It was then that she spotted one of her favorite Uncle’s. “Uncle Eds!!”
The little girl runs over to Eddie as fast as she could, her pink tutu that she insisted on wearing even though it was cold outside, flowing about.
“Pen!” The curly-haired musician exclaimed as he knelt down and captured her in a hug. “How’s my favorite birthday girl?”
Penelope giggles. “Uncle Eds, I’m the only birthday girl!”
“You’re right.” He smiles before giving her a big kiss. “You’re getting so big, Pen. Don’t go growing up on me too fast.”
“Ima grow bigger and faster!”
“No! Don’t say that, I’ll cry!” Eddie pulls a dramatic frowny face which makes Penelope laugh.
Steve walks up beside you with his hands on his hips; a typical Steve Harrington pose. “Please tell her to stop saying that, she tells me all the time that she’s a big girl and it breaks my heart.”
Steve pouts at his daughter and she giggles in Eddie’s arms. “Daddy don’t be sad, when I get bigger ima take care of you!”
Steve’s eyebrow quirks up and he points a finger at her. “I’ll hold you to that, little lady.”
“She’s not getting bigger, not on my watch.” Eddie says as he squishes her in a hug. “I’m gonna squeeze you in a little box so you stay little forever!”
Penelope gasps. “No!”
“Yes!”
Penelope wiggles out of Eddie's grip and starts running away from him. “No! Never ever ever!”
Eddie runs after her, telling her that he’ll never let her grow up. You giggle, watching the two and Steve turns to you.
“Everyone here?” He asks.
“Yeah, Eds was the last one to show up.”
“Alright,” he nods. “I say we let her play for a little while longer then sing happy birthday?”
“I was thinking the same thing, Harrington.”
He points to his head, then to yours and says, “Great minds think alike, Y/L/N.”
It was fairly easy to slip back into your friendship with Steve. After the awkwardness of him finding out that Penelope was his, the two of you acted as if no time had passed. It was refreshing and you didn’t realize how much you missed being around him.
To say your feelings for Steve were gone, would be a lie. Your feelings for Steve never really went away. Even if you tried so very hard to leave them behind, they only grew more when Steve would play with Penelope or spend time with her in general. He adapted to his role as a father rather quickly and you weren’t going to lie, it was attractive.
You would never tell him, though. You didn’t want to ruin the dynamic that the two of you had. Everything, so far, was good.
You had tried going on a date a while back but it fell through once you told the guy that you had a child. Steve was very upset about it. The date had lasted less than an hour. You were having a good time, asking questions about each other when you mentioned you had a daughter. The guy’s demeanor changed quickly and he closed himself off. It was awkward after that. He confirmed that you had a daughter once more and when you said yes, he cleared his throat.
“Um, I’m sorry but I don’t think this is going to work out.” He says. “You’re a great girl but-”
“But me having a kid is a problem.” You finish his sentence in a mono-tone pitch.
“No!” The guys exclaimed. “It’s just- It’s kind of-”
He stumbles over his words, trying to save face but you shake your head and pull out money for your meal, placing it on the table.
“It’s fine. I know me having a child isn’t ideal but maybe you should try to at least be an adult about it.”
The guy scoffs. “I’m not about to play step-daddy to someone else’s kid.”
You roll your eyes and stand up. “Grow up.” You say before walking out.
You understand that dating someone who has a child could be a bit scary but he didn’t even give it a chance! He closed off the minute you mentioned Penelope.
You pull up to Steve’s house and slam your door shut in annoyance.
‘I’m not about to play step-daddy to someone else’s kid’
Get real.
You knock on the door and patiently wait for Steve to open it.
“Hey,” he says when he sees you on the other side. “Why are you here so early? I thought you had a date?”
“I did.” He can sense the annoyance in your voice and he moves aside to let you in. You put your purse down on his table and turn to face him. “He wasn’t too keen on the fact that I have a kid.”
Steve’s eyebrows furrow and he’s about to ask what the dude said but it’s like you read his mind because you tell him.
“Said he’s not about to play step-daddy to a kid that’s somebody else’s.”
“What the hell?” He has a look of disgust flushed across his face.
“Yeah,” you nod. “He didn’t even wait a few minutes before he was telling me that it ‘wasn’t going to work out’ between us! The minute I mentioned Penny, he shut down.” You huff out, running your fingers through your now messy hair.
“What a dick!” Steve is visibly baffled. “Welcome to the real world! There’s a chance that you might date someone who has a kid!”
“Right?” You agree. “Like I get it, I’m young and I have a toddler and yeah that’s kind of scary but he didn’t even give it a chance!”
Steve’s hands are on his hips as he shakes his head. “God, what an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Eh,” you shrug. “Probably dodged a bullet anyway.”
“Definitely.”
“I’m never gonna date again. I’m gonna be lonely forever!” You groan.
“No you won’t,” Steve reassures as he pats your shoulder. “There’s someone out there who will want to be with you and doesn’t mind that you have a kid.”
“Suuuuuure,” you mumble. “When you find him, let me know, alright?”
Steve chuckled. “You got it, sweetheart.”
Penelope comes running into the room shortly after, practically leaping into your arms and you cradle her to you. She tells you that her and Steve are gonna watch movies all night long but both you and Steve know she’s most likely going to fall asleep in the middle of the first movie.
She asks if you’re going to stay and watch movies with them and Steve encourages you to do so.
“What, you’re gonna go home and sulk about what a crappy date this was? Nuh uh. Stay and watch movies with your family.” He tells you.
“Yeah!” Penelope adds. “Watch movies with family! Daddy got the movie with the kitties!”
Aristocats has been Penelope’s favorite movie recently.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stay.”
Penelope is happy and the three of you move to the couch. Steve puts the movie in and Penny sits in between the two of you, knocking out exactly midway into the film.
Steve puts her in her room then comes back out, coaxing you to stay for another movie. It works and he pops in ‘Just One Of The Guys’. You two enjoy each other's company and toward the end of the movie, you and Steve are fast asleep on the couch.
You gathered everyone around the table that held the cake as Penelope climbed on top of the chair. Steve puts a pink birthday hat on her little head and she insists that both you and him put one on as well.
You oblige with her wishes and put a pink hat on. Jonathan wastes no time with taking pictures of the three of you. He’d develop them as soon as he could and give them to you.
Penelope’s eyes scanned the yard as she beamed happily at everyone. Both yours and Steve’s parents were there, the Party, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan- all in attendance for your daughter's fourth birthday party. Your heart swelled knowing all the people that were present loved your daughter just as much as you and Steve did.
You all sang happy birthday to Penelope and she blew out the candles, causing everyone to cheer.
“Wait!” She shouts with her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m still wishing!”
“Oh! Sorry, sweet girl. Everyone shhh!” Steve says.
Everyone quiets down and Penelope is heard murmuring underneath her breath but no one can make out what she’s saying. After a bit, she opens her eyes and smiles.
“I’m done!”
Everyone cheers again and you cut the cake and plate it while Steve hands them out. When Penelope’s done eating her slice of cake, you start opening the gifts.
“Okay, this one is from Uncle Dusty.” You hand her the gift and she tears it open excitedly.
“A tea party!!” She yells out happily, turning to her father. “Daddy, we can play tea party! Thank you, Uncle Dusty! You’re my favorite!”
Dustin tells the four-year-old that she’s welcome as he beamed at her words. Eddie, however, wasn’t taking it too well.
“What?!” He exclaimed. “What about me? I was your favorite earlier!”
Penelope giggles. “Uncle dusty gave me a tea party so he’s my favorite now!”
Eddie sulks as she continues to open her gifts and Dustin sticks his tongue out at the musician in a mocking manner. Not too long after, however, Penelope opens Eddie’s gift.
“Oh. My. Gosh.” She enunciated every word. “It’s a guitar!! Uncle Eds, it looks like the one you have!! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!!”
Although it was a toy guitar, you and Steve knew you would never know what silence felt like after this moment.
Steve rubs his face with his hands when he sees the gift. “Oh no…”
Penelope had been obsessed with Eddie’s guitar from the moment she saw it. She always wanted Eddie to play it and she always wanted to touch it. Eddie would tell you she was a musical prodigy in the making.
You and Steve give each other the same look before you say, “Say goodbye to the peacefulness.”
Steve groans while Penelope jumps up and down happily. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re my favorite now, Uncle Eds! We can play guitar together!!”
“Any time you want, Pen.” Eddie smiles at his niece before locking eyes with Dustin who stared at him with a blank face. Eddie mouths, “In your face!”
You finish up the gifts and the kids play with Penny for a little bit before you can tell that she’s beginning to get tired. You and Steve end the birthday party, thanking everyone for coming as they left. Once they were gone, Steve put Penelope down for a very much needed nap while you started picking up.
Steve joins you not too long after and when you’ve finished cleaning up, the pair of you slump down on the couch, exhausted.
“Penelope’s fourth birthday party was a success. Nice work, Y/L/N.” He raises his hand for a high-five, and you meet him halfway.
“Can’t take all the credit. You did most of the work.” You tell him.
“Yeah, but you gave birth to her. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be here celebrating her turning four.” He smiles at you affectionately before his smile drops. “Oh my god, she’s four. My baby’s four.”
“Yep,” you nod. “And she’ll only get older from here.”
“Don’t remind me.” He pouts. “I want her to stay little forever.”
You laugh as he sulks for a bit. The two of you sit in silence and you close your eyes for a little before you feel Steve shift in his seat.
“Y/N?” He says and you open your eyes to find him facing you.
“Yeah?”
Steve bites his lip and his fingers tap against his jean-covered thigh. His habit every time he’s nervous.
“Um,” he starts. “We’ve been doing good, right? I mean, co-parenting and all.”
“Yeah…” You have no clue where this conversation is headed.
“And our relationship with each other is good. We don’t fight or argue or anything-”
“Steve,” you cut him off. “Spit it out already.”
You start to think he’s trying to ease into telling you that he was seeing someone, and you were preparing yourself to hear it, but his next words threw you off.
“I have feelings for you.” He says quickly and your eyebrows furrow as you sit up to look at him more clearly. “Well, I’ve always had feelings for you. They never went away. I just never said anything because you said you weren’t ready to revisit us romantically but, I don’t know, today just-” He sighs deeply, his fingers combing through his hair. “You look so beautiful today- well, you look beautiful every day and we work so well together that it got me thinking about what life would be like if we were, you know, together. As a couple.”
“Steve…”
“I know, okay? I know I fucked up back then and I know you’re hesitant but god, Y/N, you take up so much space in my head. You and Penny. That’s all I care about. That’s all I want and that’s all I’ll ever need. Ever since you walked out of my house almost five years ago, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I haven’t been on a date since- well, since I was with Nancy because I didn’t want to be with anyone else but you. I want to be with you, Y/N. I want us to be a family, officially. Me, you, and Penny in a big house. I wanna come home from work and know that I hit the jackpot because I get to see my two favorite girls every single day of my life. I want-” He takes a minute to breathe before he takes your hand softly. “I want you.”
He’s looking into your eyes and you just know that he means every word that he’s said just now.
You don’t know if it’s butterflies in your stomach or if you’re gonna throw up.
“Steve,” you breathe out.
“Please say you feel the same way.” He says softly. “If you don’t, that’s okay and we can just go back to how we were before I confessed all of this but if there’s even a slight chance that you feel the same way, please give me the chance to make you happy for the rest of your life.”
A smile makes its way to your lips and your eyebrow quirks up. “For the rest of my life, huh?”
“Mmm Hmm,” he hums. “For the rest of your life, for the rest of my life, for the rest of our lives… I’m in it for the long run.”
“Steve,” you say softly. You watch as the boy in front of you hangs on to your every word, anticipating what you’ll say next. He looks nervous and scared, but also hopeful. You lean in and kiss his cheek softly. His eyes close as he relishes in the feeling. “You’re in luck because I feel the same way.”
His eyes snap open and they sparkle in the light. “Really?”
“Really.” You giggle. “My feelings never went away either.”
“Oh my god.” He breathed out, pulling you into a hug.
You stay like that for a bit before pulling away. “I want to take this slow, though. I wanna do this right, I don’t want to rush things, Steve.”
He looks at you affectionately, rubbing the skin of your cheek with his thumb.
“I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N, as long as I get to be with you in the end.”
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#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington imagine#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steve x reader
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