#anyways look how good jonathan looks here
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
#i need this magazine so badly#anyways look how good jonathan looks here#korn#jonathan davis#jonathan davis korn#korn band
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
isee a lot of fics writing about the st characters and especially the byers and christmas, describing their house as basically one big Christmas tree with the lights all over, or sometimes will having Christmas lights hanging in his room permanently just for the sake of vibes, and while I do believe they would be the type of household to do that pre-upside down, I just can't imagine them continuing that after the whole talking through the lights Shabang.
I would imagine that especially the coloured lights, but in reality just most kinds of lights would just remind them of everything that happened and instead I imagine Joyce does whatever she can to mimic the vibes of christmsd lights but as much without electronic lights as possible. I'm thinking candles and glow in the dark stickers and maybe even some of those old gas lights they found somewhere in the shed. any christmas lights in the house are 1. the plain white light kind and 2. thoroughly diy-ed so much that they barely even resemble christmas lights at all.
and of course they still do have to use electronic lights, because you kinda just cant get around it anymore, but they are hidden by decorations and lampshades and blankets and even though it might takr up a bit more of their budget than before, they always buy high quality bulbs that are replaced as soon as they show even the slightest sign of a flicker because you cant tell me everything theyve gone through with the communicating through the lights left no impact on them, especially joyce
#together with hopper they can afford the good kind anyway#also idek if this is how lightbulbs work actually but just imagine with me here for a sec#joyce and el crochet around the christmas lights to make them look like flowrrs and stars and snowflakes#idk i just dont believe that the christmas light thing doesnt have any effect on joyce#even though i know the lights were a positive thing#they still remind her of one of the worst and most traumatising things in their lives#stranger things#stranger things headcanon#joyce byers#will byers#el hopper#jim hopper#jonathan byers#the byers family#christmas#st#st4#st1#obvi no hate to ff writers that do use this#just something ive been thinking about
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
How Do You Just Know My Parental Figure?
Marvel just knows everyone’s mom’s for some reason and gives no explanation as to how. He just does.
Supes: *shows Billy a picture of his parents for whatever reason*
Marvel: “Supes… your mom is Mrs. Martha?”
Supes: “Yes? Do you know her…?”
Marvel: “Yeah! We met in ‘61 at a pie eating competition! She was the one making the pies for the competition.”
Supes: “Why were you at a pie eating competition? Were you participating?”
Marvel: “Uh yeah? I wanted that prize money and pie. Anyways, me and her hit it off when we got to talking. Then, the time bubble happened, but when it burst, we got back in touch and we make pies together now!”
Supes: “Huh. Ma’s never mentioned you.”
Marvel: “Really? i’ve been to the farm and everything.”
Supes: “You’ve been to the farm?!”
Marvel: “Yeah? A bake pies with her and try to help around the farm. By the way, Mr. Jonathan is your dad, right?”
Supes: “Yes?? How come I never knew this…?”
By the way, Billy goes as Billy and not as Marvel because he met like a maybe fourteen year old Ma Kent as Billy at the pie eating competition. Also, Martha knows he’s Cap so since Martha knows his identity, he figured she’d told her son. By the way, whenever Jon comes he’s so happy to see Billy cause wow! His grandma never told him there was another kid here. He figures Billy was a farmhand or something. Jon’s pretty sure that’s a thing anyways.
or
Wondy and Marvel: *sparring*
Marvel: “You know Diana you look just like your mother.”
Wondy: *falters slightly cause that came out of nowhere* “What?”
Marvel: *takes that as his chance to grab and throw her* “Yeah, you do! I guess it makes sense since you’re her daughter and all.”
Wondy: “Wait? you’re saying all of this like you personally know my mother.”
Marvel: “I did! Several thousand years ago. We used to be best friends! Then I was selected as a champion and had to leave and that’s when of our friendship fell out.”
Wondy: “So you’re an Amazonian?”
Marvel: “No, no no no I was an Amazonian.”
That previous champ and Hippolyta were actually besties but a young Hippolyta didn’t want her to go to man’s world because then she wouldn’t be able to come back to Themyscira. The previous champ went anyways and that was taken as a sort of act of betrayal, not that Diana’s mother would admit it. Not to mention, the previous champ couldn’t even come back to apologize considering you forget the island’s location if you leave.
or
Reporter: “Captain Marvel, as a member of the Justice League is there anything you would like to share with us about Bruce Wayne considering he sponsors you all?”
Marvel: “No, I don’t actually know anything about the guy. But you who I do know? Patrick Wayne.”
Reporter: Pardon? Please elaborate?
Marvel: “He was a pretty funny guy. He let me be a test dummy for all his little gadgets. It was fun!”
Meanwhile…
Bruce: *sitting on his couch watching this and remembers how he did research on his grandfather, and how most of those experimental gadgets were deadly*
Patrick and Marvel were actually pretty good buddies. They were like this 🤞. Then, the time bubble happened and by the time Billy got out, both Patrick and his son Thomas were already dead. Billy got really fortunate with Martha still being alive now that he thinks about it.
785 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Ninth Life | The Magnus Archives One Shot
Based on @ultramarinaa's Cat!Martin AU, and not upon @coworkerjonathan's soul-destroying tragic version of it. If you want that version, it's here.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Buttocks-clenchingly sweet fluff.
DISCLAIMER: I, once again, wrote this in an hour and haven't proofread it. Forgive the typos and any “first draft” vibes.
──── •✧• ────
[CLICK]
Oop, yup, it’s on! Right, erm…This is Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute. I thought it would be a good idea to—
[A VERY LOUD, VERY RASPY HISSING CUTS MARTIN OFF]
[A LONG, WEIGHTY PAUSE FOLLOWS; SOMEONE IS BEING GLARED AT]
What? I-I mean, given the absolute palaver we just went through, shouldn’t we record what happened and how we fixed it?
[SILENCE FOLLOWS. BUT MARTIN EVIDENTLY GETS HIS ANSWER]
Exactly! Right, so…ah-hem. This is Martin Bla—
[ONCE AGAIN, A LOUD HISS]
What? What is wrong with—No, Jon, you’re going to hit the—!
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[MARTIN RUFFLES SOME PAPERS, THEN EXHALES LOUDLY THROUGH HIS NOSE. WHEN HE SPEAKS THIS TIME, IT’S SOMEWHAT TAUT]
Statement of Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding an encounter with a feline-based Leitner book called The Ninth Life. Recorded by subject, October 17th, 2017.
Happy now?
[LOUD PURRING NEAR THE TAPE RECORDER SIGNIFIES THAT MARTIN HAS INDEED DONE A PASSABLE JOB]
Good, good. Right, oop! Yeah, okay, you can…sit on my lap while I record this. That’s not…that’s not weird at all. Knowing you’re…you’re Jon.
…You could at least sit like a cat, Jon. No, no, no, don’t get the claws out, it’s fine! Sit how you want! Heh…K-keeping an eye on me, hmm? While I record? Oh, r-right, yeah, ‘Get on with it, Martin’, noted!
So…about ten weeks ago, I came across a book while tidying through some of the old statement boxes. I’m not sure why it wasn’t in the library or in Artefact Storage, but I suppose that’s a mystery for another time. A-anyway, I had a flick through to try to figure out what it was. Could have just been a normal book, you know? E-especially since it wasn’t put away properly, I mean, really, that’s a health and safety risk that wasn’t my fault, and—Ow! Claws!
R-right, ‘Stay on the subject, Martin’, loud and clear…
Where was I? O-oh, right. So I took it through to the break room, sat down with it, flicked through, read a few…err, well, ten pages to be precise, and basically, it was written like an old fairy tale. Something about a man who turned into a cat to get away from everyone and…W-well, what I’m trying to say is that it didn’t seem like a Leitner!
I’d probably have finished reading the whole thing, but the microwave dinging made me jump and look up. No one usually uses the microwave outside of lunch hours, but Jon actually makes cups of tea by microwaving mugs of water and then—Ah-ah-ow! N-no, I’m not getting claw-bullied into not telling people the heinous way you make tea, Jon!
Right, right, fine! Yes, so, microwave dings, I look up from the book, and…I drop the book. And I drop to the floor, a-and the book’s suddenly huge, and there’s Jon, and he’s looking at me, and…
…and I was a cat. I-I-I guess Jon hadn’t noticed me in the break room before putting his mug in the microwave, because he didn’t realise I was me. Next thing I know, I’m being picked up, held over his shoulder, petted and cooed at and—Owwww, claws, claws! Right, okay, no, no one can know Jonathan Sims has a heart, right you are!
E-erm, so…Yeah. Panicked a bit. I-I tried to make it obvious to the others that it was me, but they just didn’t cotton on. And I couldn’t read the book to figure out if the ending would tell me how to turn back. O-or if I even would turn back. Honestly, in any other situation, I-I might have been really terrified, but it’s hard to keep worrying when people are suddenly stroking you and giving you all this affection. Heh, Jon even named me Champion.
But, right, I-I really needed to turn back into a human. You know, as lovely as it was to be liked by everyone, I figured, well, it’s deeply unprofessional to turn into a cat at work, isn’t it? And I really didn’t want to be written up for unauthorised absences when I was technically in the room?
It took a while – I don’t know who moved it, but the book had gone when I managed to slink back into the break room, had to wait for someone to open the door for me, you see – but I eventually found The Ninth Life again.
It took ages to drag it over to Jon’s desk. And even longer for him to stop laughing and telling me what dedicated little chap I was. He picked up the book though, and I got so excited that someone would finally realise a Leitner was in play that I jumped up onto his desk and…
…and I…erm…I knocked his cup of tea over the book.
I could feel my heart sinking. What if I’d ruined it? What if the answer was all smudged up? Jon could tell I was upset, and he started trying to pet me and calm me down, mopping up the tea and everything. Took a while before he got back to the book, and, well…the bookplate had been smeared by the spilt tea, I guess, because he didn’t see any mention of Leitner at the front. He started reading the book, and I tried to nudge him to read the back pages first, to get to the answer before the book could turn him into a cat, but he, erm…well, he read it. Five pages, we think.
And there he was.
One minute, Jon’s at his desk, the next, there’s a little black cat with too many scars sitting in his chair.
Well, after he’d stopped hissing, running around the room – Tim thought he had zoomies, ha ha! – and bapping me on the head every time I got close, he realised who I was.
And then, he bapped me on the head again.
So. We were both cats! And it’s so funny, because in the office, Tim and Sasha and me, we all say how Jon gives off major black-cat energy? He’s like this poor wet cat in human form, and now that he was a cat, and it turned out, he is…w-well, he’s not very good at being a cat?
[A LOUD HISS – EVIDENTLY, MARTIN HAS FORGOTTEN JON IS SITTING THERE]
Don’t hiss at me! You know it’s true. I mean, look, you’re literally sitting in my lap now like a human. Cats don’t do that, Jon! It looks weird!
R-right, okay, let’s, erm, get on with the story – ah, statement, statement! – before I get scratched again.
S-so, right, Jon wasn’t really getting the hang of being a cat. He kept clambering up onto desks to type on keyboards, trying to tell Tim what was happening. He wouldn’t even jump up onto the desks, he would literally shimmy up the leg like he was climbing a tree. And, yeah, he doesn’t sit in your lap like a cat, all curled up, no no, he sits…like a person sits. So I figured actually, this was pretty good, someone had to realise something was up with this cat that just wasn’t catting.
But no. No, no, Tim just laughed and named Jon Skrunkly and got on with his day.
[A LONG, LOW MIAOW OF CONTEMPT IN THE BACKGROUND]
Nooo! You’re not skrunkly at all, Jon! You’re a very handsome little kitty!
[A HISS]
Right, right! Back to work! Erm, yeah, so, there I am, trying to teach Skr–err, Jon how to act more like a cat. Not because it would help get us back to normal, but because I was worried? He kept falling off stuff, not landing on his feet…jumping and missing things…He was having a really hard time, and I figured if we were stuck like this indefinitely, it might help to, you know…teach him a bit?
And then, one day, he just…vanished. I wandered in one morning from the canteen, ‘cause Sasha had snuck me a plate of milk, and I couldn’t find Jon anywhere. Tim realised pretty quickly that something was up, that I wouldn’t settle down, and then he noticed Skrun–err, Jon, was missing.
It took days for me to sniff him out. Which is…a really weird thing to say out loud. On record. Erm. I sniffed my boss out. But it’s insane, as a cat, the difference in senses, a-and to be honest, my eyesight was dreadful because I obviously couldn’t wear my glasses. A-anyway, sniffed him out, and realised he had somehow fallen into the tunnels through the trapdoor? Which is weird as well, ‘cause the trapdoor is always closed. No one would have opened it?
[ANOTHER LOW MIAOW, BUT THIS ONE SOUNDS STRANGELY LIKE SKRUNKLY IS TRYING TO SPEAK – IT ALMOST SOUNDS LIKE HE’S SAYING ‘SASHA!’]
I know, Jon, you’ll tell us when you, erm, get back.
So, now I knew where he was, I went into full hyperkitty mode. I was zooming around, miaowing, pawing, jumping on Tim, jumping at Tim, launching myself off bookshelves, you name it! Somehow, I managed to get the message across, and Tim went to open the trapdoor.
I…I hate going into the tunnels. I really, really hate it. But Jon was down there, and as far as we knew, he’d been down there with no food and water for days! So, down I jumped, with Tim clambering after me telling me to slow down. I kept sniffing, and it was actually pretty easy to find him after that!
There he was, curled up and shaking near a wall, and I ran towards him, miaowing my head off so he knew we were coming to the rescue, and…
And I…changed back. Right there. Just pop! There I was.
Tim, erm…Tim screamed. Jon hissed and nearly ran away. It was chaos, and…I’m actually surprised all three of us made it out. Especially with Jon going wild on Tim and clawing him every time he tried to pick him up. What was that about, anyway, we were helping you!
[ANOTHER GRUMBLING MIAOW – DID SKRUNKLY SEE SOMETHING IN THE TUNNELS? OR SOMEONE? WAS HE TRYING TO TELL THEM?]
We got back up to the office, Jon in tow, and now that I could speak, Tim, Sasha and I managed to hash out a theory.
Basically, we figure that there are a lot of Leitner books that kind of do different things depending on how much you read of them. S-so we have one on record, A Disappearance, if you read one line, you disappear for a bit. But, if you read the whole book, you disappear from the world for good.
I read ten pages of The Ninth Life, and I was a cat for ten weeks. Checks out! So we reckon Jon read about five pages, and it’s been three weeks, so…two weeks of Skrunkly to go!
Right, think that’s it. Yeah! So, erm, if you’re looking for a cure for The Ninth Life, just enjoy your time as a kitty and wait it out! U-unless you read the whole book, in which case, erm…I-I really hope you enjoy your life as a cat.
End recor–Ow! What did I miss off this time?
[SEVERAL LIGHT THUDS SOUND]
Why are you pawing the book, Jon? I…oh. Right.
Erm…I think Jon wants it on record that, erm…the book is eleven pages long. And…and I read ten pages.
[THUD-THUD-THUD!]
Yes, yes, all right, you microwaving your tea saved me from an eternity as a cat! That does not mean I am going to let you continue to ruin perfectly good cups of tea like that!
[A LOUD MIAOW OF PROTEST. MARTIN SIGHS]
Recording ends.
[CLICK]
641 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dancing Through Life
Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader
Summary: Y/n Upperland of the Upper Uplands, cousin to Galinda Upand, doesn’t have a problem with Fiyero Tigelaar, but that doesnt’t mean that she wants him around. However, after one simple walk with the Winkie Prince, Y/n discovers that he’s not so bad after all.
A/n: hi hi! I’m back with a Fiyero one shot, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about the second Bridgerton and I. I’ve written two chapters so far over thanksgiving break and I might try to squeeze in one more chapter or at least half of one before I go back to school. I don’t really have enough time to write when I am at school, so the next time I’ll probably get back to writing during Christmas break which is in a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish the Bridgerton and I and I’m thinking about waiting to finish the Bridgerton and I completely before posting any more chapters, so the ff will probably be finished in December. I wrote this one shot because Wicked has been on my mind 24/7 and I can write whatever comes to mind, but for the Bridgerton and I have to sit down and rewatch Bridgerton episodes so that I can make sure I get all the words exactly right. I hope you guys continue to be patient as I try to finish it :).
I have recently seen the movie Wicked and plan to see 10 million more times because it is SO GOOD. Wicked is basically my whole personality at this point. I was already obsessed with Fiyero, but Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero made my obsession worse (but in a good way :)). And with this obsession comes a Jonathan Bailey Fiyero Tigelaar one shot. I hope you enjoy!! I also have a plan to write another one so stay tuned for that!
It was a beautiful day today, so after class I decided to read at my favorite spot: the bench under the oak tree. I loved it here because it was a peaceful place where I never got disturbed. Or so I thought.
I realized he was near when I heard the sound of boots stepping onto grass. It was only when his shadow blocked the words on the page that I finally looked up.
Fiyero looked down on me with curious eyes, but there was still a charming smile plastered on his face. I tried to hide how his smile affected me, but he must have noticed the change in my demeanor because his smile turned into a smirk.
I thought after my cousin Galinda introduced him to my brother and I earlier today would be the last time I saw him for the day. It appears the Winkie prince had other plans.
“Well what is Miss Upland doing under the oak tree?” He asked.
“Reading.” I held up my book for effect before I continued back to where I left off.
I saw him take a seat beside me on the bench in the corner of my eye.
“It’s Friday.” He continued.
I rolled my eyes. “I know. I can read calendars.” Fiyero chuckled at my blunt and snippy responses. He could clearly tell that I was annoyed by his presence, but he continued to talk anyway.
“It’s Friday and you are here reading under an oak tree. You should be out there having fun.” He used his hands to gesture to all the other students hanging out at the courtyard.
“This is fun to me.”
“School work is fun?”
“Well for your information this book is not for school it’s for me.”
“Well I believe you are filling your head with too many things. You’re thinking too much.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Well that’s not surprising coming from a prince like you.”
“A prince like me?” Fiyero gave a feigned pained expression. “I’m hurt that you would think that way about me.”
“Well I believe that you present yourself as self-absorbed and deeply shallow, but I don’t think you are. I think you use that as a front to hide the fact that you actually care and have thoughts.”
“Excuse me there’s no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”
“Okay.” I said not believing him. I shut my book and stood from the bench. I finished the book I was reading and decided to go search for another one to read.
“Well I guess it was nice talking to you.”
I began to walk back to my room, but he blocked my path.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my room to find another book.”
“Oh come on. Drop the book for once and have some fun.”
“No.”
I pushed past him and walked away without looking back. I was hoping he would leave me alone after that, but luck was not on my side today.
“Since you’re going back to your room, maybe I can save you the trouble of carrying your book all the way back.”
He grabbed the book from my hand before I could say anything.
“Hey give that back!”
I tried to grab the book back, but he raised the book above my head, so that I couldn’t reach and jumping up was no use. Fiyero was laughing at me struggling, so I sighed in defeat.
“Fine. You can help me carry my singular book up to my room.”
Fiyero was happy with my response because he was smiling from ear to ear. We were now standing nose to nose and I could feel his breath fan across my face. If I looked down I would have perfect access to his lips. Wait what was I thinking? I quickly backed away from him before I did anything stupid. Fiyero smiled down at me and said, “See now that wasn’t so hard now was it? Lead the way princess.”
I would he lying if I said I didn’t get affected by his words. Butterflies filled my stomach and I probably would have melted if I didn’t catch myself. What is wrong with me?
“Princess?”
“Yes princess. It suits you. Princess of the Upper Upperlands.” He said with a dramatic voice.
I was about to retaliate when a certain blondey came to mind.
“Shouldn’t you be calling Galinda princess?” I asked.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you two are a thing.”
Fiyero chuckled. “I just met her this morning and besides I’m like this with everyone.”
My heart sunk at his words. So he was just treating me like everyone else? But why was I so upset about it? Just a few hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disappointed that he’s not treating me differently.
“And if I called her princess then I wouldn’t be able to call you princess. Princess.” He said with a wink.
That definitely lifted my spirits. Sweet Oz! He was making feel a roller coaster of emotions. I could tell there will never be a dull moment with him.
I gave him a small smile but I looked down on the floor to hide it from him. I didn’t want him to notice that I started to warm up to him, but he saw the slight upturn of my lips.
“Well who knew that Miss Upland could smile. It’s a miracle!”
“Oh shut up!” I said, but you could hear the grin in my voice.
“Besides reading, what do you really do for fun?” I looked up at Fiyero and could tell that he truly wanted to know my genuine answer. So it seems that my premonition about him not being self-absorbed and deeply shallow was true.
“Umm…spending time with friends, swimming. Oh there’s a lake in the Upper Upperlands that my family and I go to every summer to cool off and it has such beautiful scenery. Not to mention the nearby ice cream shop…”
I stopped after I realized that I blabbered on. “I’m sorry I sort of got carried away.”
I looked up at Fiyero, but he didn’t seem bothered at all with my tangent. He actually seemed rather interested with what I had to say.
“No continue.” He said with an encouraging smile.
“No I’d rather not.”
I know he wanted to hear more, but he didn’t push me, which I was glad for. I was a little embarrassed with my little outburst.
“Well how about you discover a new way to have fun?” Fiyero said changing the subject.
“How?”
“Come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight. The most swankified place in town.”
“Aren’t we not supposed to be off campus after dark?”
“Yes, but not being allowed to leave after dark makes it more fun!”
“I’ll pass.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I left her at home.”
Fiyero paused before he burst into laughter.
“My joke wasn’t that funny.” But I couldn’t help but laugh along with Fiyero.
Fiyero paused again.“Your laugh.”
I took a few moments to recompose myself before asking, “What about my laugh?”
“It’s beautiful.”
I stopped walking and choked on air.
“What?” I asked, but Fiyero ignored me.
“Which way is your room?”
I realized that we have reached the dead end which separated into two hallways.
“This way.” I said as I begin to walk to the right. I walked a little faster to make this walk shorter. I have embarrassed myself way too many times in a such a short amount of time and I just wanted to smash my pillow in my face and scream. The rest of the way was silent until we reached my door.
“Well here we are. My humble abode.” I said. “Thank you for the uh…walk.”
“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you tonight at the Ozdust ballroom Miss Upland.
“Y/n.”
Fiyero smiled at my response.
“Y/n. I hope to see you tonight.”
I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I turned around instead.
“I know you like to put on the facade that you are this Winkie prince who doesn’t have a care in the world, but you’re also human. Yes you might be self-absorbed and shallow, but that’s not all of you and you have thoughts that should be shared. If you take away your crowd of admirers you’ll be left with the real you. If you want to continue with this role in front of everyone then that’s fine…,but you don’t have to be that way with me.”
Fiyero’s expression was unreadable, but I could have sworn I saw flickers of fear and appreciation.
“Y/n…I don’t know what to say.”
His hands fell to his sides and I realized that he still had my book. I slowly inched towards his hand and pulled the book from his grasp. But before I pulled away I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“You don’t have to say anything.” I said with a smile.
He nodded and with one last squeeze I pulled away and slowly closed the door shut.
—————————
I laid in my bed, for what seemed like hours, contemplating whether I should go to the Ozdust ballroom or not. I turned to my night stand to see that it’s only been a half hour. I groaned in frustration and covered my face with my pillow. Then I heard a knock at the door. I rose from my bed and opened it to see my brother Ezra.
“You. Me. Ozdust. Tonight.” He said as he entered my room.
“You know about that too?” I said as I shut the door.
“How do you know about it?” He asked curiously.
“I was invited.” I said as I plopped onto my bed. Ezra raised an eyebrow at my words and joined me.
“You were invited?! I wasn’t even invited! Who invited you?”
“So how do you know about it?” I asked avoiding what he asked me.
“I overheard some students talking about it, but don’t avoid the question. Who invited you?”
“Fiyero.”
Ezra’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.
“Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country? But you hate him.”
“I don’t hate him! Where did you get that impression.”
“When Galinda introduced us to him you didn’t seem to be too pleased with him.”
I thought back to the first impression I had of Fiyero when I first met him.
When he first stood in front of me I took a good look at him and he was exactly what I expected from a Winkie prince. He was dressed to the nines from head to toe. You could tell his blue jacket and pants were made to perfection and the gold accents were sewn with precision. His black polished boots were so shiny that you could even see your own reflection in them. And that was just his clothes.
Fiyero had an aura about him. It was as if he believed he always had to be the center of attention. Reminds me of someone that I know, but I know that Galinda has a heart. It was too soon to tell if he genuinely cares, but by the way he acted and the way the students nearby looked at him, I could already tell that his way of life to everyone else was fake.
Then he approached me later on in the day and I got to know him a little more. I soon realized that he wasn’t all so bad by himself. It was only when he was around everyone else where his walls come up and he acts out his facade.
“I guess I had a change of heart.” I finally answered.
“Uh huh. And how did Fiyero even get the chance to talk to you. The only way that can happen is if you two hung out alone.” Ezra said teasingly as he wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed at his antics.
“Fiyero might have interrupted my peaceful reading time earlier today and I got to know him a little more.”
“Oh?!”
“And before you say anything else there was nothing else to it. He offered to walk me back to my room and that’s when he invited me to the Ozdust ballroom. On our walk back I got to know him a little better and he’s not so bad by himself.”
“Hmm hmm.”
“Nothing else happened!”
“Hey I said nothing!” Ezra said as he lifted his hands to the sides of his face in defense. “But this means that you’re coming!”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“Why-“
“But I didn’t say no either. I’m still thinking about my answer.”
Ezra looped his arm with mine.
“Now I’m forcing you to come because I’m coming and I’m not going to have you sit pathetically in your room.”
“I’m not going to—“
“Ah uh. I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t say you don’t have anything to wear. Your wardrobe is almost as grand and big as Galinda’s.”
Ezra did have a point. I worried about my appearance and wardrobe just as much as Galinda, but I didn’t flaunt it as much as my cousin did.
“Come on.” Ezra grabbed my hands and pulled me up from my bed. He led me to one of my luggage’s that turned into a closet with the push of a button. Ezra pushed the button and pushed me towards my array of dresses.
“Well go on.” He prompted.
I stumbled upon the rack and begin to flip through my choices until I came across a dress that brought a smile to my face.
—————————
Ezra and I missed the boat that Galinda and Fiyero went on, so we arrived at the Ozdust ballroom a little later. I peeked over the corner and was in awe with what I saw.
The entrance of the ballroom had a ginormous staircase which led to the dance floor. At the end of the room was where a band of animals were playing the music. On the ceiling schools of fish were dancing in formation to the beat of the music. That’s when I realized that this ballroom was underwater. That was something I’ve never seen before.
Ezra and I began to walk down the staircase and I began to notice a lot of familiar faces from school.
“Do people come here often?” I asked Ezra. He first attended Shiz last year, so he had a whole year of experience before I came along.
“I would say so. It’s where most people go over the weekend, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone.”
I looked at him shocked. “Really?!”
“Yeah. I’ve never been invited and I’ve always wanted to go, but I never knew how to get here until I overheard those two girls talking today.”
“Well today’s your lucky day!” I said with a smile.
“Indeed it is.” He said with a chuckle. “Oh I see some of my friends I invited over there. Will you be okay on your own?”
“Yeah I will. Galinda should be around here somehere.”
“And Fiyero.” Ezra said with a glint of mischievousness.
“Yeah him too.”
Ezra laughed before he walked over to his two friends. Now I was left alone to fend for myself. I noticed a drink table on the side of the dance floor, so I made my way over there.
I had no idea what was in the glass, but it tasted quite good. I sipped quietly off to the side when I noticed a familiar figure approach me.
“Well if it isn’t Miss Upland.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Alright then. Princess.”
“Y/n.” I corrected him
“Princess Y/n.”
I figured it would be pointless so I gave up trying to correct him.
“I was almost starting to think you weren’t going to show up. What made you change your mind? Me?”
“Don’t be so full of yourself Fiyero. My brother forced me to come.”
“Aww so I can’t go around telling people that you’re my date tonight?”
I nearly choked on my drink, but I managed to regain my composure.
“Not a chance.”
“What a shame and to think I was going to ask you to dance.”
“I didn’t say no to that.” I said with a teasing smile. Fiyero looked shocked and glad that I was finally playing his game.
“Since you say so, I’ll just take this.”
Fiyero grabbed the drink from my hand and downed the rest of it before setting it on the table.
“Shall we?” He extended out his hand for me to take. I didn’t say anything, but I accepted his hand and he led me to the dance floor.
He began to twirl and whirl me around to the beat of the music and I found a couple laughs slip from my mouth. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time and I couldn’t believe that Fiyero of all people was making that happen.
One by one Galinda, Ezra, and his friends joined us as well. It was great to not care about the trivial things in life and simply dance through life as Fiyero likes to put it.
At one point the band slowed down the tempo of the music to a slower one and Fiyero gave me a knowing look. I looked back at Ezra and he winked at me before walking off the dance floor with his friends. I turned back to Fiyero and grabbed his hand. He gave me a beaming smiling, put his hands on my hips and began to move me across the ballroom floor.
“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today.” He said.
“About?” But I had an inkling about what he was talking about.
“About me pretending in front of everyone else.” I simply nodded and waited for him to continue.
“I guess I started doing it in order to hide my true depth of character. It was a way for me navigate the superficial social circles and get the chance to meet powerful people. I’ve done it for so long that I forgot what it’s like to just be me, but you were the first person to ever see through that.”
I took a moment to take in his words. It must have been exhausting to keep up that facade for so long. I felt bad for Fiyero. The fact that he felt the need to live like that.
“Well like I said you don’t have to pretend with me. I want to know the real Fiyero Tigelaar. Do you think you can manage to do that?”
“I can for you.”
Under normal circumstances I would have collapsed right then and there there, but that would do either of us no good. Fiyero had just finished telling me something he’s never spoken out loud before and I have to be the support he needs.
He twirled me around once more before pulling me right back into his arms. Then he brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered changing the subject.
“You look beautiful princess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. I must say that blue is definitely your color. You are hands down the most beautiful one here.”
“I don’t think so.” I said as I looked down at the floor bashfully.
Fiyero grabbed my chin with his finger and brought my face up to look up at him.
“I beg to differ.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and pulled it back behind my ear. I felt his breath against my ear and shivers traveled down my spine. No boy has ever gave me as much attention as Fiyero has and I was at a loss with what to do. But in a strange way I knew exactly what to do, which is why I was bold enough to try something.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered in his ear.
Fiyero looked confused, but he nodded anyway. I stood up on my tiptoes and went up to his ear, but at the very last second I grabbed his face and connected his lips with mine.
At first he didn’t responded, and I got so scared I got the message wrong, so I almost pulled away. However, he soon reciprocated the kiss and placed one hand firmly on my waist and the other framing my face. The kiss started simple, but then it became more intense. I would have kept on going, but then I remembered where we were.
I pulled away and looked around to see my brother looking at me with a knowing look as if he was saying I told you so. He mouthed, “And you said there was nothing else to it.”
“Shut up.” I mouthed back.
“Do you want to take this somewhere else? Away from the public eye.” Fiyero asked.
I looked up at his blue eyes and thought about being alone with Fiyero. Being able to hold him and kiss him to my hearts desire. I nodded with a smile.
Fiyero smiled back and interlocked our hands. Together the both of us walked out of the Ozdust ballroom without a care in the world and we simply danced through life.
#wicked#fiyero tigelaar#fiyero tigelaar x reader#galinda upland#wicked galinda#wicked fiyero#wicked film#winkie prince#ozdust ballroom#dancing through life
466 notes
·
View notes
Text
still into you
after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?
this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!
18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!
read part two here.
♡‧₊˚
‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.
‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.
you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.
he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.
‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’
‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.
‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.
‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.
‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.
once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.
he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..
it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.
from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.
at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?
but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.
people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.
steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.
it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.
‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.
‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’
he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.
you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.
-
it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.
‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.
you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.
‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.
you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.
‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.
you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’
‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’
you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.
‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.
‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.
‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.
‘when d’you finish?’
narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’
‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.
he wasn’t wrong, of course.
because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.
-
you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.
no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.
steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.
‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.
he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.
it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.
you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.
‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.
‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.
‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.
she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.
‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’
‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’
your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.
nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.
you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.
there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.
they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.
‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.
your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.
‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.
‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?
‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.
‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.
your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.
steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’
you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.
‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.
‘please.’
the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.
you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’
your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’
he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’
‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’
he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.
‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.
‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.
you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.
‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.
will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.
‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.
he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.
it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.
deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’
he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.
you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.
-
it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.
‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.
‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.
‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.
‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’
‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.
‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.
‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.
he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’
‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.
‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.
-
monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.
in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.
‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.
you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.
‘when’d that happen?’
blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.
‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.
nothing.
‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.
‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.
he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.
‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.
you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.
‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.
eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’
‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’
he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.
‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’
‘so you’re not together?’
you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.
un-fucking-believable.
you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.
‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.
‘now why would i do that?’
‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’
one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.
‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’
his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.
‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.
were you actually gonna go?
absolutely fucking not.
-
by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.
she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.
‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.
he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.
‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.
‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.
and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.
‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’
you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.
‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.
and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.
and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.
‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’
‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’
you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.
opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.
‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.
‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.
‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.
‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.
‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’
you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’
he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.
‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?
‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.
his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.
you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.
‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.
‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’
his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’
which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.
‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.
‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’
‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.
‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.
‘i should.’
his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’
and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.
scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.
he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.
his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.
he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.
eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.
‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’
‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.
you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.
‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.
‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.
you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.
‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.
‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.
his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.
working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.
it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.
he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.
eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.
‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.
you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.
your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.
he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.
you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.
your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.
his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.
‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.
eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.
it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.
you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.
the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.
having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.
he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.
and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.
his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.
you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.
‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.
‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.
‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.
if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.
eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.
and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.
‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.
‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.
he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.
maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.
‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’
‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.
‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.
your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.
the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.
‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.
he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.
‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.
you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.
but he doesn’t.
eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.
everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
-
‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’
you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.
‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.
you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.
‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.
you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.
‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,
‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.
you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?
eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
-
the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.
he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.
‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’
‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’
he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.
‘hmm? why’s that?’
he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.
‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.
he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.
‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’
you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.
‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.
your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.
‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.
‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.
‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.
‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.
‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’
steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.
‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.
you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.
because that’s what this is, right?
just sex with an ex?
‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.
‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.
‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’
you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.
you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.
‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.
he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.
-
when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.
the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.
‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.
‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.
‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.
‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.
‘yeah sure.’
you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.
‘so.. you two?’
eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.
steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.
‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.
‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’
‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.
‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.
‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.
‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.
you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.
‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.
if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.
the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.
‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.
‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.
christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.
‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.
eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.
you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker. 
‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.
you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.
‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.
you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.
‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.
‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’
if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.
‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.
you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.
you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.
‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.
you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.
he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.
‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’
and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.
idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x female reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Confessions
Steddie || ~2.3k words || rating: T || tags: post vecna, references to stancy, angst and fluff, robin buckley just being herself
~~~
Eddie and Robin were just finishing filling the snack bowls and mixing drinks when they heard a knock at the door. It’s a Friday night– and not what Eddie would consider a late hour–but they weren’t expecting anyone to join their weekly movie night at Steve’s.
He glances at Robin who shrugs, shaking her head. As he rounds the kitchen counter towards the foyer, Steve’s voice carries down the hallway.
“Nance?” He sounds surprised too.
“Steve, I’m sorry I know it’s late, but I’ve been meaning to talk to you and I can’t wait anymore,” she says. Eddie can’t see her, but she sounds anxious.
“This can’t be good,” Robin huffs. He agrees, if the sinking pit in his stomach is any indicator.
“Look, Nance, now’s not really–”
“Steve,” she barrels over him, sounding desperate. “I’ve been an idiot trying to convince myself that I haven’t missed you since we broke up– and before you say it, this isn’t because Jonathan left after we closed the last gate. When we were stuck there with Robin and Eddie, the way you looked at me was how I’ve always hoped someone would love me. You looked at me like I was everything to you, like you could look at me forever and never get tired of it. I feel wanted, and loved, and safe when I’m around you.” She takes a deep, steadying breath before pressing on.
“Last time, when we were together, I took all of my grief and anger out on you. I blamed you for what happened to Barb because I couldn’t face it myself and I knew you loved me enough to hold the weight, and I resented you for it. You wouldn’t stand up to me, and I resented you because you loved me anyway.” Eddie can hear Nancy sniffling, small sobs carrying down the hallway. “You loved me at my worst, and you didn’t deserve that. You’re amazing, and strong, and kind and everything I could ever ask for.
“Steve, what you said in the Winnebago, I just, I can’t stop thinking about you. About us”
The silence that follows is stifling and Eddie feels bile climbing up his throat. Arms wrap around his shoulders as Robin tucks her head into his neck. Only a small comfort while months of gentle moments with Steve flash behind his eyes: soft hands brushing his curls, stolen glances, lingering touches, and warm smiles. Now Eddie’s forced to stand vigil as it’s all washed away by Nancy's whispered pleas.
“Nance, please–”
A spark of hope after a late night confession weeks ago– swiftly blown away.
“Steve Harrington, I lo–”
“Nancy,” Steve interrupts, his tone firm yet soft around the edges, “I’m in love with someone else.”
Robin gasps into his neck. Her arms around his shoulders squeeze tight, anchoring him to reality in the wake of Steve’s confession. His chest is so full he can’t breathe.
“Oh,” Nancy whispers before another, deeper sob leaves her breathless. He never thought he’d hear Nancy Wheeler cry. Even though they’re apparently both in love with the same man, he’s grown close with her too and can’t help the urge to comfort her. Eddie’s grown to love everyone in his new found family. But Nancy is right.
“Yeah Nance, I’m sorry. And they’re kind of here right now, so,” he says gently.
Steve Harrington is everything.
And they’re kind of here right now…
Hope flames in his chest, blooming with warmth. Eddie doesn’t hear the conversation end over the buzzing in his own head and Robin’s frantic giggling until they hear the click of the front door and Steve’s footsteps coming towards them.
“Oh.”
Steve’s standing in front of them, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Eddie’s realizing he and Robin maybe should’ve hid before Steve rounded the corner to find them eavesdropping.
“So,” Steve stammers, a fierce rouge burning his ears, “how much of that did you hear, exactly?”
Robin quickly stands, clearing her throat before Eddie can think of an answer. “Is that the microwave? Did anyone else hear the microwave ding? I think the popcorn is done, so I can go check that right now. Yeah, right now. I’ll just, umm, be in the kitchen checking the popcorn. For the movie.”
She practically sprints down the hall, and although she wasn’t subtle, Eddie’s still thankful for the privacy. Steve’s shaking his head with a small smile on his face.
“Everything,” Eddie answers. “We heard everything.”
“Oh,” Steve says again. He sounds anxious and unsure, something Eddie’s compelled to fix, because all he wants in this world is for Steve Harrington to be happy.
“It’s ok.” He takes Steve’s hands in his own, tracing his thumb lightly over his knuckles. “We won’t say anything to her about it, and we won’t tell anyone what she said. Nancy’s in safe hands with us. Mum’s the word!” And as Eddie mimes zippering up his mouth, he hopes that Steve won’t take the easy way out. That he won’t use the life-raft Eddie’s just thrown in his direction to keep him from drowning.
“Right,” Steve says. He runs a hand through his hair, biting his lip as he gazes at the floor between them. The silence as Eddie waits for Steve’s next words grows long and tense. He can’t hear any movement in the kitchen, making him more anxious now that he knows Robin’s listening. Which, he’d be a hypocrite to be mad about.
Maybe he has this all wrong. Maybe Steve just needed a way to get her to leave, so he lied about having a date over. Maybe he didn’t know what to say, and just said the first thing to pop into his head. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with Eddie at all.
Eddie realizes he’s still holding Steve’s hands, his grip tightening the longer he spirals. If it hurts, Steve hasn’t said anything. But when Eddie looks at his face, he seems dazed and lost in thought. As fast as if he’d been burned, Eddie drops Steve’s hands and takes a step backward.
“So,” Eddie stammers, voice shaking, “I’m going to go help Birdie with the popcorn. You want to get another movie started?”
Hands still frozen in the air, Steve finally lets his clenched fists fall to his sides. Eddie can see the whites of his knuckles. He hears Steve sigh, exhausted and frustrated, but Steve’s nodding with furrowed brows and taking a step backward towards the living room– away from Eddie. Too far to reach out to.
Turning away, Eddie’s in the middle of forming an escape attempt when he opens the kitchen door to immediately be swept up in Robin’s arms. Of course she’d been listening. He’s grateful for it, now that he doesn’t have to explain himself. As he buries his face into her neck, he finds a wet patch and wonders what kind of accident she got into while prepping snacks. It’s not until she starts gently shushing him that he realizes he’s crying, tears soaking into her shirt.
“It’s gonna be ok, teddy bear,” she says, running her hand through his curls, “he’ll get there, I promise. He’s working on it, you know that.”
He nods. He does know that. Steve’s been out to Robin for a few months, but only to Eddie for a few weeks. He deserves the space to figure it out, and the grace of those around him to do so at his own pace. Still, Eddie can’t help his growing impatience alongside the increasing severity of his crush. At least Robin’s here to support the both of them.
The two of them finish gathering the snacks in silence. She was full of awkward jokes to try to lighten the mood, but when it was clear Eddie was stuck in his head, she’d stopped. He feels bad about it. He’ll make it up to her later, plus he knows she’s not upset with him. Eddie suspects they’ll be getting together sometime tomorrow to rehash everything that’s happened– after she’s finished consoling Steve, of course.
When they leave the kitchen, Eddie’s surprised to find Steve exactly where he’d left him. He’s standing frozen in the hallway, lip pulled between his teeth and hands still clenched. But when he lifts his gaze to meet Eddie’s, there’s resolve behind his eyes.
“Eddie,” Steve says, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
“Oh my god! Finally!”
Eddie jumps violently at Robin’s shouting, almost directly into his ear. She’s flushed red with embarrassment decorated with a manic grin so wide he wonders if it’ll just keep stretching like taffy. There’s popcorn poured out onto the floor from where she clearly threw her hands up in excited exasperation. He watches as her eyes grow wide, her smile morphing into shock, her lips forming a perfect ‘o’, as if to say ‘oh shit, I just interrupted the most important moment in my best friends’ lives because I’m so excited and impatient that these two dinguses finally figured their shit out’.
She kicks the scattered popcorn towards the wall, like that’ll somehow hide the mess, before awkwardly passing them both down the hall towards the living room.
Eddie loves her so much.
“Huh,” Eddie chuckles, “well that was–”
“I’ve known I’ve liked you since last summer when you let me help you into my pool onto Holly’s rubber duck floaty so you could finally go swimming after you finished physical therapy.” Steve sounds out of breath, words running into each other with misplaced breaths in between. Like if he stops, he knows he won’t start again.
It’s the only time Eddie’s felt the urge to keep quiet– when he’s not fighting for his life.
“You were so nervous,” Steve plows on, “but you said you felt safe with me, that you wanted only me to be there. You said you trusted me to help without laughing or judging you. Fuck, Eddie, you were so goddamn cute once we got you settled in with a Coke with a crazy straw in it. We were listening to ABBA and you didn’t even complain and you were so sunburnt the next day. It was the happiest I’d ever seen you.”
The memory leaves Eddie shocked. He did trust Steve to help, didn’t even consider asking anyone else because Steve just felt like the most obvious answer. He’d been there through the worst of Eddie’s post-PT work to make sure he ‘kept form’ on his exercises. They’d lounged in the sun all day, and it was the first time Eddie watched Steve relax since his final Upside-Down battle.
Eddie feels his lip quiver, eyes burning, knowing they’d felt the same that day. Judging by Steve’s watery eyes, he guesses they feel the same now, too.
“But love,” Steve whispers. He swallows as he takes a step closer, reaching out to grasp his hands. “Eddie Munson, I knew I was in love with you yesterday.”
His shoulders tighten as he recalls yesterday, surprised because they hadn’t seen each other at all, one of the rare days where their schedules didn’t line up. It was the first time in months they’d gone longer than thirty-six hours without seeing each other. Sure, they’d talked on the phone while Steve worked, but it’s not the same.
“I know,” Steve laughs, clocking Eddie’s confusion. “I thought about you all day. Couldn’t stop, no matter how hard I tried. Robin had to work with the customers because all I kept thinking about was tonight. If you’d get here before Robin, so we could sit out by the pool and smoke. Where we’d sit for the movie and if we’d get to share the popcorn bucket. If you’d pick a movie I hadn’t seen, so you’d lean in close and tell me a million random facts, even when you know I don’t really get it. But I just like when you’re close, next to me, and–” he hesitates– “I think that’s why you do it.”
Steve lifts their joined hands, wiping a tear from his eye using the back of Eddie’s knuckles. He returns the gesture, wiping what Eddie’s guessing is a mix of tears and snot off of his own face with Steve’s sleeve.
“I think you lean in because you want to be close to me, too, and you don’t actually care about the movie either. Eddie, I think you ask for my help because you trust me in a way only Robin does. You give me cute nicknames like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘pretty boy’ because you’re teasing me, but I think it’s mostly because you really mean it.” Steve’s stepped closer now, and Eddie can feel the warmth of shared air between their gasping breaths.
“I think you tease me and lean into me because you want my attention,” Steve whispers, brushing his nose alongside Eddie’s as their foreheads touch. “But Eddie, you’ve always had my attention.”
Eddie surges forward, capturing Steve’s tear-soaked lips between his own in what has to be the snotiest kiss either of them has ever had. But he doesn’t care. How could he? Eddie’s kissing the man he’s been in love with for almost eight months.
Steve drops Eddie’s hands in favor of running one through his dark curls, while the other grips tightly at his waist. He can’t help but cup Steve’s cheeks, running a gentle thumb along his cheekbones.
It’s soft and messy and everything he’s ever hoped for, because Steve Harrington is his everything, and he’ll do anything to keep him. Right now, he doesn’t have to worry about what they’ll tell their friends, or how they’ll explain this to Nancy, or even if Robin’s listening behind the door– he’s sure she is. No, right now, he lets himself bask in the glow of Steve’s love and soak in the comfort that Steve feels loved in return.
#this one really got away from me tbh#was supposed to be all post stancy angst#turned into steddie angst/fluff as per uzh#always get myself wrapped up in the angst#steddie#getting together#post-stancy#one-sided stancy#Nancy deserves to find happiness and neither of those boys are the right option#platonic stobin#stobin#robin loves eddie just not as much as she loves steve#everyone loves steve#robin buckley#eddie munson#steve harrington#nancy wheeler#steddie fic#queeniewritesstories#confessions fic#nancy's confession
632 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pt2 to this post
'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.
It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.
Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'
'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'
Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.
'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'
'What happened?'
He sighs. 'It's complicated.'
'Wanna tell me about it?'
The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.
But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.
He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.
'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.
Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.
'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'
'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.
Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.
'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'
Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.
'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.
'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'
She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'
'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'
She nods. 'Okay.'
For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.
'Is it Eddie?'
Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.
'Wha- what?'
'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'
'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.
Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'
Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'
'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'
'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'
Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'
To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.
'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'
'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'
'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'
'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.
Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)
#look i can and i will exploit the miscommunication trope until yall are sick and tired of it#bc steddie is actually the perfect couple for keeping that trope believable#they're idiots with terrible communication skills it's canon#they WOULD#“can't you just talk to him?” “wait what i can????” IT'S SO THEM OKAY#nancy is the only sane person here i don't make the rules#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#nancy wheeler#platonic stancy#(i love platonic stancy they mean the world to me)#(i truly didn't mean to trick anyone into reading about them this just kinda. happened. idk)#this is making me wanna write more about their friendship actually they deserve their own fic#stranger things#fruity ficlet
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
fireplace.
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas | prompts: fireplace and cabin | wc: 969 | rating: teen & up | tags: mutual requited pining, post-canon, steve pov, getting together, first kiss, winter fluff, artist!Eddie, domestic
It was supposed to be a group trip.
After they’d lost their spring and summer to fighting off an apocalypse, and then their fall to nursing their injuries both physical and mental, they’d wanted to get away. Steve, Robin, Argyle, Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie had planned on taking advantage of the Harrington’s cabin just over the border to Michigan, but it fell apart as quickly as it had come together. Robin’s parents booked a surprise trip to France, Karen and Ted wanted to spend more time with Nancy, Mike, and Holly, Argyle’s family wanted him to come back for the holidays and where Argyle goes, Jonathan goes.
It was supposed to be a group trip but instead, Steve finds himself alone in the cozy midwestern retreat with Eddie, his mismatched socked feet on Steve’s lap, and the sounds of his humming as he scribbles something in his notebook.
Steve doesn’t mind— in fact, he feels a little bit guilty because he almost… well, he’s glad that it ended up being just the two of them. He loves Robin, and he’s really come around to Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy as good friends and not just fellow involuntary soldiers forced to band together, but there’s just something different about his time with Eddie.
When it’s just the two of them, no one asking for rides or teasing either of them for how close they sit on the couch, Steve relaxes. He breathes. He just is. Eddie doesn’t expect much of him, or if he does, he never lets on and Steve certainly isn’t going to ask and ruin the moment. Just like the moment he finds himself in now: comfortable silence broken by nothing but a crackling fire and the sound of Eddie’s pencil against the page.
“What’re you doing over there?” Steve asks, gently squeezing Eddie’s calf with the hand he hadn’t realized was absentmindedly rubbing up and down Eddie’s soft, worn-in sweatpants.
“Huh?” Eddie looks up, eyebrows hitched up and pencil coming to a halt. “Oh, nothing. Just sketching, I guess.”
“Is it for the campaign?” Steve grins. “Can I see? I won’t tell Dustin, I promise.”
“That little shit would bat his eyes twice and you’d spill the whole ending, are you kidding me?” Eddie laughs, pulling his notebook closer to his chest. “And no, it’s not for the campaign anyways. It’s for my eyes only.”
“Oh, now all of a sudden, we’re keeping secrets?” Steve shakes his head and rolls his eyes, fond.
“It’s just lame, at least by my standards. There’s not a single snake or skull on this page, man. Nothing interesting, Boy Scouts’ Honor.” Eddie gives Steve a sly salute and Steve snorts, scooting closer so Eddie’s feet hang fully over his legs, his knees bent over Steve’s thighs.
“You were never a Boy Scout, so that means nothing,” he starts. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be all dark or whatever for me to think it’s interesting. It’s interesting because it’s yours.”
His voice comes out a little softer than he anticipated, all humor gone and replaced with hushed vulnerability. Eddie picks up on it, like he always does when it’s Steve, and tilts his head slightly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Steve nods, squeezes Eddie’s leg again but with intention this time.
“Tell anyone and I’ll find a way to resurrect Vecna, okay?”
“I’ll probably tell Robin,” Steve admits.
“I always assume you’ll tell Robin; she doesn’t count.” Eddie chuckles under his breath with a crooked smile, peeling his notebook away from his chest. “Alright, here.”
He looks away as he hands the notebook to Steve and Steve’s breath catches in his throat. Eddie’s art takes up two full pages, the cabin sketched in pencil and the fireplace detailed with varying shades of graphite. Dark gray stones from the mantle to the ceiling, roaring flames that seem to move in tandem with the fire right in front of them, dancing and crackling both on the page and in real life. The wooden logs on the page mirror the old-world charm of the walls that surround them, and in the center of it all, Steve sits on the couch with Eddie’s legs in his lap and a notebook in Eddie’s hands.
Steve looks closer, picking out the minutiae he’s missed from his own perspective. His features are soft, shadows from the fire across his Hawkins High hoodie, and more importantly, Eddie isn’t drawing in his sketch. He’s not scribbling away, shading, his tongue just barely poking out between his teeth in concentration. No, on the page, Eddie’s not even looking at his notebook.
He’s looking at Steve.
“Wow,” Steve exhales, finally looking back to Eddie and his hesitant, worried eyes. “Ed, this is incredible. You call this uninteresting?”
“You like it?”
“I love it,” he responds. The I love you stays silent. “Is this really how you see me?”
“Not exactly. I’m uh,” Eddie pauses, seems to draw up courage as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m not a good enough artist to draw you how I see you.”
Silence sits heavy between them, joining them on the couch as Steve tries to figure out what to do, how to decipher if the warmth in his chest is from what he thinks Eddie’s trying to say or from the fire in front of them.
It’s just the two of them and, well, words have never really been Steve’s strength, have they?
Eventually, he’ll find the words to tell Eddie how he sees him, how he feels about him; Steve will tell him that he feels like hot chocolate and warm blankets, and that sometimes he drives him a little insane but in all of the best ways.
For now though, it’s just the two of them with Steve’s lips against Eddie’s, and that’s more than enough.
#steddie#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steddie fic#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#steddieholidaydrabbles#steddiemas2024#myblurbs#posting from the waiting room of the vet ER because piper mysteriously cut her paw???#what the fuck kid#anyways apologies for typos etc
244 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sitting Pretty || Jonathan Crane x Reader
summary: Needy and so incredibly horny, you seek out your boyfriend to treat your ailments.
Here's a little short thing for y'all <3
Warnings: Smut, cockwarming, graphic language, swearing, unprotected P in V, slight degradation, praising, there's a bit of slapping but nothing too serious, adult content.
18+ Minors DNI.
Seeking out Jonathan was pretty easy, he finally had a day off of work for once but he was in his study anyway, reading over medical documents, prescriptions, legal forms, and all that boring stuff you didn't particularly care for. He hadn't paid any attention to you all day, a small peck in the morning before he slipped out of bed and went into his home office to work was all he had given you today.
"Jonny?" You asked meekly, creaking the door of his study open. You were in one of his button up shirts, though none of the buttons were done up, leaving your bare chest and stomach on display. He looked up from his work, quirking an eyebrow at you. Just the sight of him, his glasses sitting on his pretty nose and still in his pyjamas as he worked. He looked so handsome, it made you squeeze your bare thighs together.
"What is it, bunny?" Jonathan tilted his head at you, waving you over with a curl of his finger. Your feet padded over to him and you could feel his hungry eyes on your tits, nipples hard from the cold air.
"Need you..." Was all you could get out as you sat on his warm lap, an arm of his slipped around your waist. "Please... you've barely... given me any attention at all today, Jonny..."
Jonathan just smirked as he signed off another bit of paperwork, humming, not giving his full attention to you. You frowned grumpily. "Is that so?" He knew you were all worked up, he knew it from the second you walked into the room with that sad little look on your face. "Well too bad, too busy with work, my love. Maybe later." He mumbled dismissively.
"Please!" You cried, leaning your head into the crook of his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. Whining like a needy brat. "I'll take anything you can give me please... please... just need you inside of me, I'll be good, Jonny..."
Jonathan sighed, knowing how you were when you were horny. You wouldn't leave him alone until you got what you want, got what you needed. "I'll tell you what, you can sit on my cock but you're not allowed to move, do you hear me?" He grabbed you by your chin sternly, pen still slotted between his fingers. "No playing around, sweetheart." You just nodded feverishly, you quickly pulled down his pyjama pants, his cock was already hard and red for you. Biting your lip, you slipped down your underwear, letting it fall onto the floor as you ground your wet cunt against his head until you sank down on him, back pressed against his clothed chest. You let out a low moan, squeezing around him, you could hear him take in a deep breath through his nose as he kept writing, knowing your pussy had an intoxicating effect over him.
"F-Feels so good, Jonathan... thank you," You mumbled, trying your best to keep your aching hips still. Your clit throbbed with need as the head of his dick pressed snugly against your cervix in the most deliciously painful way.
"Now you've got what you want you can just sit there and look pretty for me, darling." Jonathan pinched your sensitive nipple, you gasped at this, clenching around him causing him to let out a throaty groan. "You've gotta stop doing that, baby, or you won't be allowed to sit here anymore." You squeezed his cock again at the nickname which earned you a hard slap on your clit, making you cry.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... you just feel too good..." You whined, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder. He could tell you were struggling to sit still, could tell you still needed more.
You sat there for a little while longer, being good, being obedient while he did his work and his dick sat inside you, cunt hugging it tightly and needily. But you were growing more and more restless by the second.
"Touch your clit f'me," Jonathan whispered deep into your ear. "Want you to cum while sitting on my cock."
"C-Can't..."
"Don't tell me you want me to do it for you too?" He grunted, clearly displeased with your answer. You shook your head with embarrassment. "Pathetic slut, can't even touch yourself, takin' my cock but you also need my fingers too? Greedy bitch." He gave you a smack on your cheek, face stinging, as he slipped his fingers between your sticky folds and rubbed perfect circles on your swollen clit. He was so hot when he was mean.
"Thank you... thank you so much..." You were a stupid mess, wanting to bounce on his cock so bad. He was touching you so perfectly and you hated how it turned you on even further how he continued to do his work even with you sitting on him, his cock fully sheathed inside you and his fingers working your clit, working you closer to your oncoming orgasm. You were thankful for whatever he gave you. Shifting your hips, trying to readjust, to get more friction of some kind, as you felt yourself on the brink of cumming, you got another hard slap on your clit before he continued touching you. "Ow!"
"Remember what I fucking said about no moving." Jonathan grumbled, you felt his dick twitch inside you, you knew he was close too, getting off in the way your pussy perfectly squeezed him.
You were dripping all over him, so wet for him. He twitched inside of you again and suddenly before you could really process what was going on he slammed his pen down and pushed you down over the desk, pushing your face down into the expensive mahogany as he pulled his hips out before slamming right back in. Jonathan couldn't take it anymore, couldn't take the way your pussy squeezed him, he was holding back bucking into you that entire time, so he finally gave in and started fucking you.
"Oh!" You felt yourself unraveling, creaming around him. "Yes!" Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he fucked into you roughly.
"Fuckin' take it, that's it, little girl, take my big cock," Jonathan groaned, slamming in and out of you, his cock hitting your cervix perfectly and heavy balls hitting your clit with a perfect rhythm. "That's a good girl, so fucking good for me, gonna fill you with my cum." You were writhing on the desk, your pussy gushing for him. "So wet, so wet for me, gonna cum... fuck... gonna cum...!" He groaned, spilling his seed into you, filling you with his sweet cum. Stilling his hips completely as he let out his own whiny sounds of pleasure, despite his rough treatment of you, his whines were high pitched and a bit pathetic, it only turned you on further the way his rough exterior melted as he came. You squeezed him further, your own orgasm still going on, milking him of all he's got and smiling to yourself, knowing you got what you want. "Fucking hell." He whispered.
"Thank you... thank you!" You moaned and you could feel his nails digging into your hips as he breathed deeply, coming down from his high. Your clit throbbing and your head spinning, you gasped for air. "Thank you so much... Jonny... love you..."
"So grateful for my cum aren't you?" He hummed, pulling you down with him, down onto his office chair again, softening cock still inside you. Cum dripping out of you slowly. "What a sweet thing you are..." He sniffed your hair, burying his nose in your neck. You just leaned back on him, fucked out and all dumb. Your mind was blank with pure contentment. "Such a dumb pretty little girl... gonna make you my wife." He praised, placing a sloppy kiss on your lips before he slid the chair over to his desk and continued his work.
-
I hope you enjoyed!! <3
#jonathan crane#dc scarecrow#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane smut#scarecrow x reader#cillian x reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#cillian x fem!reader#batman#scarecrow#dr crane#cillian murphy smut#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian#batman begins#nolanverse#the dark knight trilogy#dr jonathan crane#the dark knight rises
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
playing with fire (one-shot)
summary: wyatt (aka, jamie) always had one thing on his mind: money. so after he and jonathan part ways, he meets you - a woman that suddenly makes him realize that there's more to life than treachery, manipulation, and violence. but when he has another chance at getting more money than he's ever had before, he goes back to his old ways... and you're more than willing to help him in any way possible. pairing: wyatt bose (jamie getz) x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MDNI, light dom/sub dynamic, possessiveness, violence - mentions of murder, blood, wyatt is very rough, light power imbalance in the beginning, manhandling, light choking, brief orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, multiple creampies (oops), one scene of a breeding kink, multiple scenes of oral (m and f receiving), fingering, spanking, marking, no use of y/n. word count: 13.9k (oops - i got distracted) a/n: ok y'all, this is just complete filth. hugh plays such a good bad guy (i really want him to play more roles like this bc damn) and that one fucking line where he says "oh, what i'm gonna do to you" DID things to me jfc. anyway, please heed the warnings and if you do decide to read this, hope you enjoy! had to end it with a happy ending obviously 🙂↕️
WELCOME TO THE CLUB — You didn’t know how you ended up here. You had just broken up with your boyfriend of two years after realizing that you were just settling for a relationship that you were no longer happy in. At this age, you should have already been married, should have already become a mother – it was something that your own family liked to remind you of what you’ve been missing.
But that never did appeal to you. You didn’t want to become a mother, didn’t want to be married. Your family had originally hoped you would find someone to settle down with, someone to change your mind and they had thought your ex-boyfriend was that person, but… Things had become redundant. Boring. You spent most days daydreaming what it would be like to live a life you wanted.
And the sex – well, you were always left disappointed because he just couldn’t get you to come. No matter how hard he tried. So, you resorted to your own vibrator in hopes to relieve the pressure and tension that you knew you couldn’t get with him.
He wasn’t a bad man – in fact, he was perfect. He just wasn’t perfect for you.
And now, you’re sitting at the edge of the bed in a hotel room that you paid for, waiting for this stranger to arrive. You had met a woman one night at the bar who had let you know of an exclusive club that she was in, a club that piqued your interest. You had all of the information written down and every day for the next month, you reviewed it every night. Never taking the initiative to finally be part of this club.
Until tonight.
You were tired of using your vibrator. Tired of trying to meet other men at bars, only to be disgusted by their behavior before they could even get to your front door.
So, you reviewed the sticky note with all of the information the woman had told you about – the initiator pays for the hotel room, no names are exchanged, and no rough play. You weren’t sure what to expect when you finally called a number that she had given you, hearing his voice from the other end of the phone – it was deep, gruff. You spent the next ride to the hotel imagining what he would look like, pairing his voice with the image you conjured up of this man.
You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on the door. You suddenly feel self-conscious, nervous – this is your first time in this club and you didn’t want to disappoint. With a deep breath, you finally stand up and walk to the door. Gripping the handle, you slowly open it to see a man dressed in an all black suit (no tie) and one of the most charming smiles you’ve ever seen. He wastes no time in eyeing you up and down, taking note of the short black satin robe that is loosely wrapped around your otherwise naked frame.
“Hi,” he smiles. “Mind if I come in?”
You nod and open the door even further for him to cross the threshold. He steps in and winks in your direction, catching his gaze on your cleavage. Once he’s fully inside, you place the “do not disturb” placard on the outside handle and then shut the door.
“This is my first time,” you blurt out, walking back to the bed and finding your spot on the corner of the mattress. “I know the rules. No names. No rough play. Other rules can be established between us and–”
He turns around and gazes down at you, hands in his pockets and that same charming smile lining his lips. “First time, huh?”
“In this club, at least. Not the first time ever.”
“Shame,” he eyes your legs when you cross one over the other, the robe lifting to reveal more of your skin. “Would’ve been nice to be your first ever.”
You feel more confident with the way he’s staring at you. Slowly, you bring your hands to the knot at your robe and begin to undo it. “We could…” you bite your lower lip, the knot loosening completely as you lean back against your forearms to reveal your exposed front for him. “Pretend?” You finish.
He lets out the most animalistic growl that you’ve ever heard come out of a man. In two strides, he’s standing between your legs, hands still in his pockets as he gazes at your breasts down your abdomen and to the apex of your thighs.
“No fun in that,” he finally answers.
“No?” You ask, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you let your eyes take in his frame. You can see the bulge beneath his black slacks, only fueling more of your confidence. “You don’t like to roleplay?”
“I’d much rather have the real thing.”
“You didn’t answer my question though,” you reply. “Do you not like to roleplay?”
His gaze darkens as he finally pulls one of his hands out of his pockets and you see just how large it is when he lightly splays it across your abdomen, sliding it further upwards between your breasts. His touch is soft, but you can feel the calluses, can feel the roughness.
“I’ll tell you what I do like,” he whispers huskily.
“Yeah? What’s that?” You whimper, feeling his thumb brush against your nipple before he brings his hand further up to splay against the side of your neck. Slowly, he moves his hand to the back of your head and grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging it with just the right amount of pressure for you to tilt your head back, exposing your neck and throat for him.
“I like to be in control,” he says quietly, leaning down until his lips are near your ear.
“Thought one of the rules was no rough play…” you point out, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his soft lips begin to nip at your earlobe.
“We can make our own rules, baby.”
“My first time in this club and you’re already getting me to break the rules,” you smile, moving one hand to grab onto the lapel of his blazer.
Instead, he grabs both of your hands and pins them above your head. His grip around your wrists tighten as he pushes them into the mattress, staring into your eyes. His nose brushes against yours as the hand in your hair instead moves to cover your breast. He kneads the flesh into the pit of his palm, feeling you arch your back into his touch.
“Something tells me you like breaking the rules,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning against your lips. “Am I right?”
“Never had someone to break the rules with,” you whimper, feeling him pinch your nipple between his thumb and index finger.
He smirks at that, feeling suddenly territorial over you. He pulls back enough to gaze down at you, eyes scanning every inch of your face as he commits it to memory. The way your eyes stare at him with a kind expression, giving him your undivided attention. He isn’t used to this, isn’t used to being with someone like you. You’re staring at him like he’s the only person that matters in this world and he doesn’t realize how much he craves that, how much he’s going to crave you.
“You want someone to break the rules with?” he asks, moving his hand from your breast down your abdomen and between your legs.
“As long as it’s with you,” you answer almost immediately.
Wyatt (Jamie) growls at that and breaks his own rule by pressing his lips firmly against your own. Since he joined this club, he never kissed the person he was with. It seemed almost too personal, too intimate to be shared amongst strangers. In the last fifteen minutes of meeting you, he’s already yearning for more, already planning for ways to have you his. Only his.
Your hands move to his hair, tangling your fingers into his locks as your lips move slowly against his. He groans against you, your lips so soft and inviting.
He has to pull away, has to gather his thoughts because he’s losing control and he never loses control. Once he stands upright, he pushes off his jacket and reaches down for his belt, undoing it as he watches you scramble up further onto the bed, sliding the robe off your entire frame. He can feel his cock straining in his pants and when he finally undoes the belt, zipper, and button of his pants, he pushes it down his legs with his boxers and kicks it off to the side.
He smirks to himself, seeing your eyes gaze down at his cock that springs at attention. He holds onto his base, veins throbbing and tip leaking with precome.
“You’d do anything I’d ask, wouldn’t you?” Wyatt (Jamie) asks, grabbing your ankle and tugging you back to the edge of the mattress. “You’d be a good girl, listen to what I tell you to do–”
“Yes,” you say almost breathlessly. You don’t know if this is how it’s like with every person you’ll meet in this club, but he’s going to leave a really good impression on you. He’s awakening something inside of you that you’ve suppressed for so long, unsure if you’ll ever get the chance to live out the sex life you’ve always yearned for, but now he’s here – whoever he is – giving you the chance to have a much more exciting sex life.
“Don’t interrupt me,” he growls, hand moving to your jaw. His gaze darkens, tries to search for any hesitation in your eyes, but instead, he sees a sense of willingness, a glimmer of obedience.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Sir. He grins at that.
“Such a fast learner,” he whispers, using his hand to guide his tip to your slickened heat. “Now, be a good girl and ask me nicely.”
You bite your lower lip, staring into his eyes as you feel his warm tip press against your opening. You clench around nothing, whimpering in protest as you lift your hips impatiently off the bed. His grip around your jaw tightens.
“Be a good girl and ask nicely,” he repeats, voice deeper, more demanding.
“Please,” you whine out.
“Please what?” he growls.
“Goddammit, please fuck me!” you answer impatiently, hands reaching down to take matters into your own hands.
He lets out a dark laugh and shakes his head, releasing his hold on your jaw to grab your hands once more, pinning them roughly to the mattress. His grip around your wrists tighten as he stares into your eyes, that same charming smile on his lips. “Am I going to have to spend the entire fucking night teaching you manners?”
“N–No,” you whimper. “Please, I’m sorry. I just– Fuck, I need you.”
“Then… Ask. Fucking. Nicely.” he repeats.
“Please, sir,” you moan. “Please, can you–” you gasp quietly, feeling the head of his cock push into your tight heat. When you can’t seem to find your words, he pulls out of you and smirks.
“Continue, baby.”
“Please,” you mumble. “C–Can you fuck me, please?”
“Please what?”
“Sir.”
Wyatt (Jamie) grins in accomplishment and slams into you without warning, feeling your warm heat encompass his throbbing cock. You’re so tight, so wet that sliding into you is so effortless. Your back arches as you feel every inch of his length press against your walls, a painful stretch to accommodate his size.
And for the rest of the night, you both remain entangled in each other’s limbs, only leaving the bed to have him bend you over the dresser or to ride him in the small loveseat in the corner.
When morning rolls around, you’re already dressed in your normal clothes and so is he. It was a night to remember – this club had initially made you anxious, but now, you’re looking forward to the next time you’ll get to meet another stranger.
Wyatt (Jamie), on the other hand, makes sure to add your number to his phone. His mind drifts to the possibility of you being with other men – even women – in this exclusive club and he feels a sudden sense of jealousy wash over him. He reaches down and grips your hip, pulling you to him and leaning down to capture your lips with his own. He hopes that he’s made a lasting impression that no other man would ever compare to him.
Slowly, you’re the one that pulls away – a small smile lining your beautiful face and eyes gazing at him once more with such kindness.
“I hope I see you around,” you finally say, biting your lower lip.
“I’m sure you will,” he says with confidence. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“We don’t know each other’s names,” you let out a quiet laugh. “And I’m sure you have other women that call you–”
“You jealous?” he teases with a grin.
“And if I said I was?”
He clears his throat quietly. “Then I’d say tough shit,” he answers. “Deal with it.”
Your face falls momentarily, but you recover quickly and lean in to peck his lips lightly. “Well, good thing I’m not jealous then. I’m eager to meet other men after last night.”
He tightens his jaw and brings a hand up to grab another fistful of your hair. You whimper quietly, hands moving to grip his shoulders. “When you fuck those other men,” he whispers, moving his lips to your ear. “You better be thinking about me.”
Your eyes flutter shut. “Not unless there’s another man who does it better than you.”
He growls at that, turning you around and bending you over the dresser. He wastes no time in lifting the ends of your dress over your hips as he kicks your legs apart. Wyatt (Jamie) undoes his zipper and reaches into his slacks to pull out his hardening cock – giving it one, two, three strokes before he pushes into you from behind.
Your hands reach out to grab onto the edges of the dresser, the grip around it so tight that your knuckles turn white. You hadn’t expected that kind of reaction of him and certainly didn’t expect him to fuck you yet again – especially since you both should already have left the hotel, last night’s events the only thing to remember each other by.
Instead, he’s fucking relentlessly into you from behind, his balls slapping against you. This time, he doesn’t care about making you come first. He wants you – no, needs you to understand that there will never be anyone like him. That you are meant for him, made for him. Only him.
He reaches down and grabs your hands, pinning them against your lower back as he slams into you. You squirm back against him, the edge of the dresser digging into your hips that you’re sure will leave another mark on your body.
“You’re mine,” he groans aloud, tossing his head back as he uses your tight walls to bring him closer to his own release. “You’ll only ever be mine.”
“Y–Yes!” you moan loudly, your arousal dripping out of you. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix in with the wet squelching noises coming from between your legs – it echoes throughout the hotel room.
“Fucking say it,” he demands, using his free hand to grab your hair and pull you upright. “Say it. Say I’m the only one. Say you’ll only ever think of me. Say you’re mine.”
“I–I’m yours!” you moan, his hand moving from your hair to pull down the front of your dress. He covers your breast with his large hand, squeezing it tightly as he thrusts into you repeatedly. “I–I’ll only ever think of you, fuck, please!”
“Please what?” he groans into your ear. “Tell me what you need, baby.”
“Need to come!”
Wyatt (Jamie) groans and empties his seed into you, your walls milking every last drop he has to give you. He pulls out and growls at the sight of his release trickling down the inside of your legs. You’re trembling, hands reaching out to rest on the dresser for stability once he releases his hold on you. He tucks himself back into his slacks and gives your ass a rough slap, smirking to himself.
“Wait, but–” you whimper in protest, turning around slowly to face him with furrowed brows. “I didn’t–I didn’t come.”
“That’s too bad, isn’t it?” he smirks, grabbing his phone and keys from his pocket.
“Are you really going to leave me like this?”
He steps towards you and cups your cheek lightly, staring into your eyes. “You know my number, baby. Give it a call when you need me.”
“Maybe I’ll call someone else,” you pout, walking away from him to go into the bathroom, cleaning yourself up from the mess he’s made between your legs.
He narrows his eyes and tilts his head. He’s trying not to let this get to him, to let you get to him, but he can’t help it. He clears his throat and walks towards the door of the bathroom, watching you toss the toilet paper into the trash as you make yourself more presentable.
“Maybe next time,” you begin to say, walking past him and towards your bag that’s resting on the mattress. “Maybe next time you’ll be the one that should be good for me.”
He chuckles at that. He feels his feet glued to the floor as he watches you walk towards the door of the hotel room. “Don’t think that’s how this works, baby.”
“Guess we’ll see next time then, hm?” you throw him a smile over your shoulder and open the door. Before walking out into the hallway, you turn to him and nod in his direction. “Thank you, by the way. For last night. For what happened just a few minutes ago.”
He nods, feeling an unfamiliar warmth blossom in his chest. “You made it easy, baby. Welcome to the club.”
MEETING “WYATT BOSE” — The next time you see him, it’s unexpected. You’re working at the local library, reading a book at the front desk when he walks in. The same charming smile, a confidence and swagger that he walks with. His eyes scan the building, unsure of exactly what he’s looking for, but he walks further into the library and disappears into one of the aisles. It makes your heart race even faster as your mind drifts to the night you shared with him almost six months ago. You had been more regularly part of this club now – men now giving you a call instead of the other way around.
He was right, though. Every other man you had been with him after him wasn’t the same. Sure, it was by far better sex than what you would have had with your ex-boyfriend, but it never was quite as amazing as your first time with him. Even as you came, you imagined him.
You stand from the front desk, telling your coworker that you were going to put some books away. Truthfully, it was just an excuse to find him – the stranger that had left a lasting impression on you.
You’re pushing a cart of books, going through each aisle. You’re distracted, putting two books away in its appropriate place and then glancing around to see if you can even get a glimpse of him. It feels like maybe you might have just imagined him, maybe your mind is playing tricks on you.
With a heavy sigh, you round the corner and see him standing with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing yet another suit and that same fucking charming smile lining his beautiful lips. He’s gazing at you with an already darkened gaze.
“Well, hello you.”
“It’s really you,” you whisper, gripping the handle of the cart.
“You never called again.”
“Hm,” you answer. “I never received a call from you either and I saw you save my number that night, so I know you had–”
He steps towards you, removing one hand from his pocket to gently brush his thumb across your cheekbone. “You’ve been very popular, from what I’ve been hearing.”
You clear your throat, feeling a quiet gasp escape your lips at his touch. “Maybe not that popular if you never called.”
He chuckles, thumb moving lower to brush against your lower lip. “You miss me, baby?”
“No,” you lie.
He just smirks. “You’re such a fucking liar.” He grips your chin and pulls you to him. He removes his other hand from his pocket and lifts it up to gently brush against your nametag. Now he knows your name – another rule broken.
“Pretty name,” he whispers.
“You gonna tell me yours?”
He grins, hand moving from your chin to splay against the side of your neck instead. His thumb brushes against your throat down towards your collarbone. “No names, remember?”
“Well, that isn’t fair though, is it? You know mine.”
“Didn’t ask you though. You’re wearing a nametag.”
“What if I say please?”
“Would you get on your knees and then say please?” He asks. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t think about you, didn’t think about that night you shared.
“You’ll have to give me a call if you want me on my knees in front of you, baby.”
He smiles to himself, tilts his head as he gazes into your eyes. Since Jonathan had let him go freely almost a year ago, Wyatt (Jamie) had tried to change his ways, tried to live a better life, but old habits die hard. It wasn’t until he met you that he started thinking about things other than money.
How could one person leave such a lasting impression on him?
“Just because we’re in public doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t take you in the bathroom–”
“If you want me that badly, then give me a call.”
His eyes narrow as he moves his grip around your throat. He pushes you against the dark corner and moves his free hand against the wall near your head, staring deeply into your eyes. “Thought we established that you don’t interrupt me.”
“Maybe I need another reminder on how to be a good girl,” you whisper, feeling his grip around your throat tightening, leaving you almost gasping for air.
He grins, loosening his grip around your throat. He likes that you can match him, can leave him speechless like this. “Wyatt.”
“What?”
“Name’s Wyatt.” He lies, dropping his hand to your cheek and slowly he leans in, lips lightly brushing against yours. “I’m gonna kiss you now, unless you want me to give you a call for that,” he teases.
You don’t answer. Instead, you reach up to grab him by the end of his tie and pull him into you. You press your lips firmly against his own as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. He growls lowly against you, sliding his leg between your own.
He’s missed the feeling of your lips, has missed the sounds you make. He feels you roll your hips against his strong thigh and he smirks, pulling away from the kiss to look down at you. Your pupils are blown out, lips slightly parted, and gaze filled with want, with desire, with need.
“Wyatt,” you whisper.
His smirk falters momentarily at the sound of his “name” leaving your lips and it’s in that moment he contemplates what it would sound like if you had said his real name.
“I’ll give you a call,” he says. “Tonight. I’ll give you a call tonight.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Then you know my number,” he winks.
You bite your lower lip and pull him back to you, the front of his body now pressing firmly against yours. He keeps his hand pressed against the wall above your head as he stares into your eyes.
“What?” He asks quietly.
You smile, shaking your head and leaning up to press your lips gently on his cheek. “Hope I get to see you tonight, Wyatt,” you whisper into his ear. “Until then, I suppose.”
—
Wyatt had given you a call just a couple of hours after seeing you. When the phone rang and you heard his voice on the other end of the line, an excitement bubbled within you.
Excitement. Anticipation. Yearning.
And now, you’re entering the lobby of the hotel that Wyatt had told you he would be at tonight. You look around and bite your lower lip when you see him standing there with a small smile. He’s wearing a simple black t-shirt over a coat and black slacks. He nods in your direction and you walk over to him, biting your lower lip nervously. It feels like it’s your first time all over again.
“Meeting me in the lobby?” You tease. “That’s new.”
“Well, consider me excited to see you.” He grabs your jacket and pulls you to him, feeling your hands reach out to rest on his chest. “Been thinking about you.”
“Oh yeah?” You ask, moving your hands from his chest to wrap around his shoulders.
“Yeah,” he moves his lips to your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe. “Don’t think I forgot about you interrupting me earlier,” he growls lowly. “And how maybe I need to fucking remind you that I’m in control here.”
You bite your lower lip and shut your eyes, tilting your head back to expose more of your neck for him. He takes the hint, moves his lips down the side of your neck with gentle kisses. “I don’t think you have control after not calling me for six months.”
Wyatt (Jamie) growls. He tightens his jaw and bites down on the side of your neck, sucking on it roughly to leave a mark. He hears you let out a quiet whimper and he pulls away, looking down at you. “Keeping track of how long we haven’t seen each other, huh?”
You narrow your eyes. “Just a guess. I have been pretty busy with other men and–”
Wyatt (Jamie) glances at the growing mark that’s darkening on the side of your neck. He feels suddenly territorial again. “Hm, we’re not gonna be talking about other men, are we?”
“That depends. Will you be as good as the first time?”
He chuckles, his gaze darkening even further. He’s finding that he enjoys this little game that you play with him. He leans in and whispers huskily into your ear. “We both know that you’ve been thinking of me while you were with those other men. Now, let’s get upstairs before I take you where you fucking stand and show these people who exactly you fucking belong to.”
You nod, too obediently, and pull away from him slowly. You take his hand in his and lace your fingers with his own. The action takes him off guard, because for a split second, you see a surprised look flash across his features. He squeezes your hand and takes you to the elevators.
Wyatt. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t tried to look him up earlier that day. You didn’t know his last name, but how common was the name Wyatt anyway? Apparently very fucking common because every Wyatt that exists showed up in your search except him. You knew you were playing a dangerous game – trying to get to know more about him, to find ways to spend more time with him outside of this.
He pulls you out of your thoughts by releasing your hand and instead resting his own on your lower back. He steps into the elevator with you and presses the top floor, leaning back against the railing as he looks at you. Really looks at you.
You’re biting your lower lip, eyes staring up at the numbers at the top of the elevator as it highlights for each floor you’re passing. Wyatt (Jamie) is starting to feel an unfamiliar warmth settle in the pit of his stomach. He has to wonder if this was how Jonathan and S felt for each other – the possibility of something more real.
For once, he imagines sharing his life with someone else, with you. He imagines that it’d be filled with a lot of laughter, intense intimacy… but he also believes that he’d feel a sense of belonging with you – something that he’s been lacking for most of his life.
But then he thinks about having to tell you the truth, having to be honest with you and with himself. His name isn’t Wyatt. Not only has he lied to you, but he’s also hiding the fact that he’s a dangerous man. Manipulative. Conniving. Murderous. Why would anyone like you ever be okay with someone like him?
When the elevator doors finally open to the top floor, he watches you step out and waits for him patiently, eyes lighting up with a cute fucking smile on your face. There’s a part of him that wants to spend the entire night just getting to know you. He yearns to know more about you… aside from the information he’s already found when searching you up online.
He was able to find you pretty quickly – an outdated Facebook account, but a more active Instagram account instead. Facebook tells him that you’re newly single, having gotten out of a relationship almost six months ago, which makes him wonder if you were still in a relationship or not when you two first met. He also knows you’re a librarian, but instagram tells him so much more about you.
You like going to coffee shops, taking pictures of the different cups of coffee you order. He also finds that you like working out, being outdoors, and being active. You’re family oriented – he’s noticed from the handful of pictures you’ve posted with your family on birthdays and holidays.
As Wyatt (Jamie) had searched you online earlier that day, he continued to imagine how he would fit into your life. And every time he tries to imagine it, he’s always left with a tug in the pit of his stomach that reminds him that as long as you don’t know the truth about him, he can never fit into your life.
“You gonna show me where to go?” You ask, finally pulling him out of his thoughts.
He lets out a quiet breath and flashes you a broad grin, slipping back into the same persona that you’re used to. “That eager, huh?”
“I mean, you called me so we’re on my time.”
“Oh, we are? You got somewhere else to be?” He walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind as he leads you to the door at the end of the hall.
“And what if I do?” You ask, leaning back into him. “What if there’s another person I’m supposed to meet, hm?”
He reaches over to swipe his hotel key card over the door and opens it for you. He pushes you inside roughly, shutting the door behind him as he turns you around and pushes you against the door. He hears you let out a gasp, eyes staring into his own and filled with desire.
“You just like to push me, don’t you?” He asks, moving his hand to wrap around your throat. He sees the corner of your lips lift upwards. “You think this is a game, baby?”
You nod slowly, feeling his grip tighten. “Mmm,” you mumble out.
Wyatt (Jamie) darkens his gaze, stepping up to you as he moves his lips to your ear. “You fucking belong to me,” he whispers. “Do you understand?”
You nod again, feeling the wetness begin to pool between your legs. “D–Does that mean you belong to me too?” You manage to whisper, his grip around your tight lessening to let you speak, to let you take a breath.
He stares down at you, feels his resolve faltering for a moment at your question. Instead of answering, he drops his hand from your through and leans in to press his lips firmly against your own. It’s urgent, rushed, messy.
Your arms wrap around him, bringing your hands to his hair and running your fingers through his locks. You part your lips and feel his tongue move past your lips – your tongue now dancing with his, matching the intensity of this kiss. His hands move to reach around and grip your ass in his large hands. He feels his pants become increasingly tighter as he pushes against you.
Pulling back, he stares down at you and narrows his eyes. You’re staring up at him with a dazed look on your face as he takes your hand and brings you further into the hotel room. He removes his jacket and sets it on the chair off to the side.
“On your knees,” he says, turning back around to look at you. He reaches down and undoes his belt, a smirk lining his lips.
You arch your brow and tilt your head, removing your own jacket as you stand before him in a pair of jeans and a white low v-neck.
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he growls, eyes taking in your frame. How can you be so beautiful when dressed so casually?
“Can I take my pants off first?” You ask quietly, hands reaching down to begin undoing the zipper and button of your jeans.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he nods in your direction and watches you begin to push your jeans down your legs, clad in a white v-neck and a pair of white panties. Then, you stand in front of him and slowly kneel down until you’re on your knees in front of him.
“Look beautiful like this,” he points out, bringing a hand down to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb gently across your skin. He pushes down his pants and boxers, his cock now springing to attention in front of you. He kicks off his pants and boxers to the side, using his free hand to take hold of his base. He steps forward and glides the head of his length across your lips, his precome smearing across your lips. “Fuck,” he growls.
Slowly, you part your lips for him, darting your tongue out to slide across his tip. He loses his resolve for a moment, sliding his tip past your lips and feeling you lap at his precome. He moves his hand from his base to grip around your hair, pushing his hips forward so that more of his cock disappears in your mouth.
Your eyes gazes up at him, hands moving to rest on his thighs to prevent him from moving any further. His tip touches the back of your throat and you pull back to take a deep breath. He stares down at you and releases his hold on your hair to reach down and grab the ends of his shirt. Once he tosses it aside, he pushes back into your mouth and places both hands on your head. He hears you gagging and holds you firmly against him, feeling your saliva begin to coat his entire length. When he pulls back, he stares down at you and sees your lips swollen and parted for him, chest heaving as you try to take a deep breath.
“Tell me,” he groans, pushing his hips forward for his cock to slide into your mouth. “Tell me that you’ve thought about me when you’ve been with all those other men. Tell me that you always think about me,” he groans, thrusting his hips forward. “Tell me that you’ll only ever be with me.”
He pulls back and watches you catch your breath, nodding up at him in response.
“Say it,” he says.
“It will only ever be you, Wyatt,” you answer honestly. “Even when I’m alone, all I think about is you. Who you are, what you do, how you can fit into my life,” you admit, slowly standing up and grabbing his shoulder to push him into the bed. He falls back as he looks up at you, his gaze softening momentarily.
You pull your shirt over your head and undo your bra, completely exposed and bare for him as you straddle his waist and reach down to grab a hold of his cock. Slowly, you slide down his length and let out a quiet moan, his girth and size stretching you only in a way that he can. “I think I could fall in love with you,” you whisper almost inaudibly as you push yourself further onto him until you’re firmly sitting on his lap, his manhood sheathed within your tight, warm, and wet heat.
Wyatt (Jamie) could have come right there. He stares up at you, taking note of your head tilted back with your arms pressing against his chest. You’re moving your hips slowly in a forward and backward motion, but all his eyes can focus on is you.
I think I could fall in love with you. It lingers in his mind, mixes in with the sounds of your moans. He sits up, arms wrapping around your waist as he guides you to move forward in his lap. He leans in and presses his lips against the side of your neck, nipping and teeth grazing across your skin. He’s obsessed with you.
“Wyatt,” you moan, arms wrapping around his shoulders as the hair at his base brushes against your bundle of nerves.
Something takes over him and moves a hand to your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure. He doesn’t want to hear you say that name because it isn’t actually his. He thrusts his hips upwards, your moan coming out almost inaudibly to the tight grip he has around your throat.
“You’re only ever going to be mine,” he growls. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the hotel room and you reach up to wrap your hand around his wrist. “Ain’t no one gonna be with you but me.” He presses his feet against the floor and slams upwards into you. He releases his hold on your throat and hears you take a deep breath.
“A–As long as I’m the only one you’ll be with too,” you answer through a loud moan.
He slowly rolls you onto your back and slams into you. His thrusts pick up in speed, the tightness in his lower abdomen beginning to build and build as he uses you at his disposal. He’s afraid of what this could be, afraid of what you could mean to him, because he can imagine a life with you. He doesn’t answer you though, determined to fuck the idea out of you. He’s sure that once he tells you the truth that you’re going to want nothing to do with him and he isn’t sure that he’s ready to let go of you just yet.
“I’m gonna come,” you moan, feeling his hands grip your wrists to pin them above your head.
“Yeah, you are,” he groans. “Fucking come for me, baby.”
That’s all it takes. You shut your eyes and arch your back, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix repeatedly as your body begins to tremble. Your walls tighten even further around him and his hips stutter, unable to hold back himself as he releases into you abruptly. He pulls out of you and watches his come trickle out of you, the sight causing him to grab ahold of his length and pushing into you once more.
“Wyatt!” you exclaim, reaching down to push against his lower abdomen. “Wait- Baby, wait–”
“No,” he groans, grabbing your hands once more and holding them firmly against the mattress. He continues to thrust into you, looking down at where you’re connected and seeing his come mix in with your arousal. “Fuck, you look good like this.”
Your eyes flutter, squirming against him as the sensations become too overwhelming. “Wyatt, please… I can’t–”
“You were made for me,” he interrupts, using his free hand to draw circles against the bundle of your nerves. “And only for me. D’ya understand me?”
“Y–Yes!” you can feel your body giving way to him as yet another orgasm approaches. “Wyatt–”
“It’s Jamie,” he corrects. “Call me Jamie.”
Your brows furrow in confusion and stare into his eyes, but he looks determined. Your mind is all over the place and it doesn’t help that he’s still thrusting into you with his thumb circling your clit. “J– Jamie!” you moan loudly and he groans to himself, pulling out of you to watch your body shake through another orgasm.
He moves to lie on his back and bites his lower lip, glancing over in your direction. “That’s my real name.”
You’re breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath as you slowly move to lie on your side. “Why’d you give me a fake name?”
He clears his throat and looks down at you. Quickly, he comes up with an excuse and feels your fingertips run along his chest. “Guess I was still a bit hesitant giving you my real name at the time.”
You nod slowly and then lean up to kiss his cheek. “That’s fair. I’d probably give you a fake name too if you hadn’t seen my nametag.”
Jamie lets out a relieved sigh and then wraps his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close to his side.
“I meant it,” you say quietly. “I’d only ever wanna be with you… as long as I’m the only one that you’d be with too.”
He tilts his head and glances down at you. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, baby.”
“I’m thinking…” you whisper, slowly moving to straddle his waist again. “I’m thinking I’d do anything for you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Then give me a chance to.”
THE TRUTH AND AGREEMENT — It’s been a week since the last time you’ve seen him. You aren’t sure whether you’re ignoring him or he’s ignoring you. Neither of you have tried to give the other person a call, but despite the things he’s told you, it surprisingly doesn’t deter you from wanting him.
You’re at work again, reading a book at the front desk when you hear someone clear their throat. Slowly shutting your book and looking up, your eyes slightly widen at the sight of him standing in front of you. He’s dressed more casually today, a black t-shirt underneath a dark colored jacket paired with jeans. His eyes soften at the sight of you as he glances at the clock over your shoulder.
“What time are you off?” he asks.
“Well, hello to you too.”
“Hi.” he sighs. “What time are you off?” he repeats.
“Not for another few hours. You haven’t reached out,” you answer.
“Neither did you.”
“I wasn’t sure–” you bite your lower lip. “I’m sorry.”
“Shouldn’t be.”
“I still want to–”
“Meet me after you get off work?” he interrupts.
Excitement flickers in your eyes and he lets a small smile line his lips at the sight. “Where?”
Jamie takes his phone out and hands it to you. It’s his personal phone, not the flip phone that he uses for the club. “I’ll text you.”
You nod and enter your personal phone number as a contact in his phone before you hand it over to him. “I’ll see you soon, Jamie.”
His eyes gazes up at you at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He isn’t sure why it has so much of an effect on him, why the way you’re smiling at him makes him want to just reach over and kiss you. This isn’t what he usually does – he doesn’t see the same person more than once, at least not if there’s anything that could benefit him.
He says your name quietly and then looks over his shoulder to see someone standing in line, waiting for him to be done. “I’ll see you soon,” he repeats.
Stepping off to the side, Jamie watches you interact with the person behind him. He notices the way your eyes light up, your smile so broad and infectious. Even when your eyes meet his momentarily, he feels the faintest feeling of warmth in the pit of his stomach, blossoming further into his chest.
He doesn’t know what this means, but he really needs to figure it out soon. He needs to gain back control because he fucking hates feeling like this.
He’s scared. Scared because he finally told you the truth and he isn’t sure if he’s going to lose you because of it. If you do decide that you no longer want this, then Jamie will have to make sure that you don’t talk about it to anyone else… which means having to clean up loose ends.
Which means having to get rid of you.
—
A few hours later, you’re driving to the hotel that Jamie sent you the address for. There’s an excitement bubbling within you, but not because of the possibility of having sex with him again, but because you’ll finally get to know more about him. To anyone else, they’d have run and cut ties with him the moment they found out the truth.
When you park your car in the parking garage, you’re surprised to see Jamie standing near the elevator with his arms in his pockets. You take a deep breath, trying to hide your excitement and the smile that’s itching to spread across your lips when you climb out. He walks over to you and gently takes your hand – a complete difference than what you’re used to with him.
“Hey,” he says first.
“Hi,” you answer.
“Figured we could talk,” Jamie says quietly. “That okay?”
“Yeah, more than okay.” You can tell he’s nervous, anxious because he won’t meet your eyes and the gentleness and softness he’s displaying isn’t what you’re used to. He’s always been so in control, so rough with you that this makes you a little uneasy.
Once inside the hotel and elevators, Jamie releases your hand and presses the button to the top floor. Turning around to face you, his eyes take in your frame before he walks closer to you. Slowly, he cages you in between his body and the railing of the elevator, his own hands resting against the railing as he stares into your eyes.
“You know you shouldn’t even be around me after everything I’ve told you,” he whispers hesitantly.
Jamie lets out a quiet and shaky breath when he feels your hands come up to rest against his cheeks, thumbs brushing against his jawline.
“I said I’d do anything for you, Jamie,” you answer. “I know I should leave, shouldn’t even be here with you, but I just–” you bite your lower lip. “I can’t imagine never seeing you again.”
Before he can say anything, the doors to the elevator open and he pulls away from you. Gently once more, he takes your hand and leads you to the room at the end of the hall where he opens the door for you. He steps inside with you and takes your bag, setting it down on the counter as his hands move to your hips, guiding you further into the room and onto the bed.
“I’ve killed people before,” he admits out loud. “I’m a greedy man. I’m not– I’m not a good person, but I can promise you that I’d do anything to give you the life that you deserve.”
Slowly, you turn around and run your hands through his hair. “I should run from you,” you say honestly. “You’re the type of man that people warn women about… toxic, dangerous…” your eyes gaze into his, watching as he stares at you deeply. “But I want you… what does that say about me?”
Jamie shrugs. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But if you decide that you want this… You’re going to have to commit yourself to me. There’s no leaving this, there’s no leaving me.”
“And if I choose not to want this?”
His jaw tightens. “I think you know what I’ll have to do.”
“Well then, do you need a partner?” you ask with a small smile, biting your lower lip.
Jamie narrows his eyes, moving his hand to rest on your neck lightly. “I do it alone,” he whispers. “I’d be the one in control. You do what I tell you to do.”
You nod, hand coming up to rest over his wrist. “Y–Yes, sir.”
Sir.
“So, what do you want?” he asks hesitantly, thumb brushing against your throat.
“You.” you answer immediately. “Whatever that means, I’m in it. I’m in this.”
Jamie lets out a relieved breath and gently tightens his hand around your throat. “I’m the one with the power… I’m the one that tells you where to go, what to do…”
You nod. “I’ll do anything… as long as I just have you, Jamie.”
His gaze darkens and he releases his hold from you to push you back against the bed. Jamie places a hand on the mattress as he leans down over you, lips brushing against yours. “You don’t call me by my name,” he says. “You never call me by my name from now on.”
“But your name is so–”
He clicks his tongue and roughly rolls you over onto your abdomen. Quickly, he tugs down your skirt with your panties as you lean over the edge of the bed, ass in the air for him. Without hesitation, he brings his hand back only to connect with your ass cheek, the sound of the slap echoing the large hotel room.
“You don’t talk back either,” he points out. “When you go against what I say, what I tell you, this is punishment.”
You nod, letting out a quiet whimper as you feel the sting of his slap rush through your entire body. You grip the sheets tightly, looking over your shoulder at him. “Okay…”
He shakes his head and slaps your ass roughly once more, seeing your cheek redden instantly with the imprint of his large hand. “Hmm… Not good enough of an answer.”
“Yes, sir. I don’t talk back. I do what you say. I go where you tell me. I’ll do anything for you.”
“Good,” he smirks, sliding in two of his thick fingers past your folds. His brows lift upwards at the feel of your slickness and he leans over to whisper into your ear. “You like being punished, hm?”
“I just like when you touch me,” you moan, the roughness of his fingers thrusting in and out of you causing your toes to curl. It’s painful, the way he’s moving his fingers in and out of your depths so roughly, but you can’t help the way your body reacts to him.
“Well, it isn’t quite a punishment if you like it then, is it?” he asks, pulling his fingers out of you abruptly. He looks down at his hand, the way your slickness drips down and he brings it to his lips, letting out a low growl at the taste of you.
“Wait, but–”
He shakes his head and moves to sit on the edge of the bed with you, resting his hands on the mattress as he looks over at you. His eyes move to your backside, can see your slickness along the length of your sex slowly begin to trickle out of you. It glistens under the light and he wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs, but he can’t. He needs to show some restraint, needs to stay in control.
“You only see me from now on, are we clear?” he asks, reaching for you to kneel down in front of him.
You scramble to your feet and drop to your knees between his legs, hands resting on your thighs as you stare up at him. You nod obediently, batting your eyelashes up at him. “Yes, sir.”
“We’re gonna the rule the world, baby,” he grins. “You and me.” He reaches down and cups your cheek, using his free hand to undo the button and zipper of his pants as he lowers it to his ankles.
Your eyes widen at the sight of his throbbing cock, now fully erect and leaking at the tip. You lick your lips, eager to wrap your lips around him as your hands itch to reach out for him. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” you reply.
“Won’t be easy,” he admits, stroking himself at the sight of you on your knees in front of him.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” you answer. “The only thing I need is you.”
His eyes soften at that. He’s not used to feeling like this – usually, he’d have to negotiate or offer some cut of the money he’d receive, but with you… it’s easy because you don’t want any of those things. You just want him and he can’t help but feel that same warmth in his chest again. He won’t ever admit it out loud, but he’d do anything for you too.
He doesn’t answer, but instead brings his tip past your lips. You’re eagerly lapping at his precome, sucking his tip as he continues to stroke the base of his length. He groans quietly to himself, pulling back to run his tip across your wet lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he says lowly. “And I think good girls get a reward.”
“Please…”
“And begging too? Yeah, baby, you get a reward.” He gently lifts you back on the bed as he lies back. “Over my face.”
Your eyes widen, clearing your throat anxiously as you do what he says. He moves further up the bed as you settle yourself over him, hands resting on the headframe as his lips hover inches away from your throbbing heat. With one arm, he reaches up and rests it over your waist, bringing you down until your sex is firmly pressed over his mouth.
“Oh god,” you whimper, hands gripping the headboard of the bed frame. No one’s ever done this before and you’re unsure of how long you’d actually last because his mouth sucks your clit aggressively, tongue flicking against you repeatedly. You feel so vulnerable like this, completely at his mercy. You want to scream his name, but you force yourself not to.
His eyes flutter closed as his mouth laps at your juices. You’re so wet, dripping down his chin as he moves his lips towards your hole. He flicks his tongue against you as his other hand continues to stroke himself, squeezing the base of his cock at the taste of you. He hums against you, causing a vibration to reverberate through your entire body.
Your legs are placed at either side of his head and you begin to roll your hips against his face, feeling his tongue flatten along the length of your sex. You look down at him, the look on his face only urging you closer to your orgasm. You lift your hips slightly and he growls, shaking his head as he removes his arm from your waist to thrust two fingers inside of you. He wastes no time in thrusting his fingers as he moves to suck your clit with his mouth, tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves.
“Baby,” you whimper. “Baby, please… I’m close–”
His hand around his cock quickens, gripping his base tightly as he feels his own release approach. He feels a tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to build as his free hand continues to pump his fingers in and out of you as his lips pay close attention to your clit.
Your grip around the headboard tightens until his knuckles turn white from the grip, your body trembling and shaking against him. You lift your hips away from his mouth as his fingers fill you to the knuckle. He smirks up at you, curling his fingers within your walls to help you ride out your orgasm. At the sight of you gripping the headboard, head tilted back and mouth agape, Jamie thrusts his hips slightly off the bed as he finds his own release. His come lands on his shirt, letting out a loud groan.
Slowly, you lift yourself until his fingers slide out of you and you look over at him, seeing his hand continue to stroke himself. Quickly, you kneel down between his legs and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking the remnants of his come into your mouth and swallowing eagerly.
He shudders against you, eyes gazing down at you as he slows his strokes, the feeling of your lips and tongue at his tip causing a shiver to run through him.
When his cock finally softens, he sits up and removes his shirt and pulls on his boxers. You bite your lower lip and move to lie down on the bed instead, feeling him lie down with you as his arms wrap around your frame.
“If I can’t call you by your name,” you whisper quietly. “Can I call you baby instead?” you ask.
He smiles and leans down to peck your lips lightly. “I like that, baby.”
You grin and bury your face against his chest. “I think I’m gonna like this life with you.”
He looks down at you, watches your eyes flutter closed as the same warmth blossoms in his chest again.
THE CON — It’s been about six months since your agreement with Jamie and you both managed to slip into a routine with each other. It’s almost domestic, how easy your life has entangled itself with his own. Right after the agreement, he tells you to move in with him, having found out that he lives permanently at the hotel, living on the top floor. You don’t disagree with him, instead, you agree and break your lease, moving most of your things to his place within a week.
He takes you to work, picks you up, and every night, he makes sure to show you just how good of a decision you made with choosing him. You find yourself falling for him more and more every day, but there’s a part of you that’s too afraid to tell him. Afraid because if you admit how you truly felt about him, you aren’t sure how he’s going to react. You know that you’re a liability; at any moment, he can change his mind about you and you’d know that there would be nothing that you can do if that were to ever happen.
So, you love him in silence. You stare at him lovingly when he’s cooking for you or when he’s working. You go to sleep every night with your arms wrapped around him, focusing on the sound of his breath to lull you to sleep. When he’s too busy, you make sure to cook him dinner so that he remembers to eat. You hope that he can see how much you’d do for him, how much you’d sacrifice for him.
You haven’t seen the type of man he makes himself out to be. He’s sweet, considerate, thoughtful. You wonder if he’s hiding that part of himself from you – the man who’s killed, who’s greedy, who would do anything to make sure that he benefits from it.
By the time he gets home, you’re seated on the love seat with a book in your hands. It’s late, but you like to stay up and wait for him until he gets home. You see the smile on his face and when he looks over at you, his eyes light up.
“Hey,” he walks over to you and removes his coat, setting it over the back of the couch as he leans down and kisses the crown of your head.
“Hey, what’s got you smiling?” you tease, looking up at him.
“I found my next job,” he grins and gently takes your book from your hand, setting it on the coffee table as he picks you up and sits in the love seat with you on his lap. “Everything’s going to work out perfectly. In just over a month, we’ll have made more than five million dollars.”
Your eyes widen as you wrap your arm around his shoulders. “F– Five million dollars, baby? Oh my god…”
He nods with a grin. “Five million fucking dollars.”
“What can I do?” you ask, biting your lower lip. “Can I do anything to help?”
“Oh baby,” he says, leaning up to peck your lips. “There’s plenty of things you can do to help.”
“Yeah?” you ask with a hopeful look on your face.
“Yeah, but first…” he bites his lower lip and brings a hand to cup your cheek, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “I want you. Gonna spend the entire night showing you how grateful I am of you.”
You smile, staring deeply into his eyes as you run your hands through his hair. “Baby, I–”
“I know,” he whispers, interrupting you.
“You know?”
He nods. “Yeah.”
“Is that okay?”
Jamie bites the inside of his cheek, eyes gazing into yours. He had noticed the way you would look at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, how much care and love you put into everything that you did for him… The five million dollars payout after this job was not only going to be for him, but also for you and what he can do with the money to make sure you had a life that you deserved.
He knew that had fallen in love with you too, especially when his mind had drifted to you when he realized the amount of money that he could walk away with. It was no longer just him. You were now in the picture and he can’t imagine his life without you in it now.
“Yeah, that’s okay, baby,” he finally answers.
You smile, letting out a breath of relief. Slowly, you move to straddle his lap, continuing to run your fingers through his hair as you begin to roll your hips against his own. You had been dressed in one of his old t-shirts and nothing else, your wetness beginning to stain his pants.
“You gonna make a mess on these expensive pants, baby?” he asks, hands moving up your thighs. “Because I don’t know how I’d feel about that. These are very expensive.”
“Then take ‘em off,” you whisper, leaning in to peck his lips.
“Oh, did we forget who’s the one in control here? The one in charge?” he asks, gripping your hips tightly.
“I– I’m sorry…” you mumble, ceasing your movements as you lift your hips off his lap.
He growls lowly, wrapping his arms around your waist and standing up from the love seat. Slowly, he walks you over to the couch and sets you down as he kneels between your legs. He holds your legs open for him, gaze darkening with lust at the sight of your sex glistening with your slickness.
“The things I’m gonna do to you,” he says with a low tone.
—
“So, are we clear on the plan again?” he asks, readjusting his black jacket as he stares at you in a skin tight red dress. He lets his eyes rake over your frame, feeling slightly jealous that you’re likely going to be dancing with the man that he’s been getting close to, the man that’s going to be the reason why he’s getting five million dollars.
“Yes, baby,” you tell him, straightening out your dress. “Buy him a drink, ask him to dance, leave him wanting more.”
“Good,” he answers, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “Just a dance, nothing else.”
You nod in agreement. “I’m going home with you,” you repeat. “This will just give him the confidence that he lacks and you’ll be there to cheer him on, to get him to trust you even more so than he does now.”
He grins. “Yeah, baby. Good. Good.”
“Five million dollars for you, right?” you smile.
“For us,” he corrects. “It’s going to be for us,” he admits.
“I love you,” you whisper quietly, turning around in his arms and bringing a hand to rest on his cheek gently. “Let’s have some fun tonight.”
His heart races at your words and he nods, turning his head to gently press his lips against your palm. He pulls back and then takes your hand, leading you out of the hotel room and towards the elevators. Once at the lobby, he releases your hand and gently kisses your cheek. “I’ll see you at the club, baby.”
You nod and then run your hands down the lapels of his jacket before you turn around on your heel and walk out of the hotel. He looks around the lobby, his hands placed in his pockets as he watches the men in the lobby turn their heads to watch you walk away. He feels a mixture of emotions – jealousy and pride. Pride because you’re his, but jealous because other men are looking at what’s his.
With a heavy sigh, he stretches his neck and then grabs his phone from his pocket to dial the man’s number.
—
Jamie’s leaning back against the seat, drink in hand as he fakes genuine laughter at what the other man’s saying. His eyes scan the room, noticing the splash of red in the midst of neutral dark colors. Your eyes meet his and he smiles, watching as you bite the tip of your straw to sip on your drink.
Then, he turns his attention back to the other man, listening to him go on and on about his divorce and how he hadn’t been able to meet anyone new.
“Oh come on, Daniel,” Jamie says with that same charismatic grin on his lips. “A man like you can’t get another woman?”
“To be honest,” he whispers, fidgeting in his seat. “I haven’t been with anyone other than my ex-wife. I doubt a woman would want to be with a man who’s inexperienced like me.”
“You’d be surprised,” he answers. “Because it looks like that one has been looking at you since we got here.” Jamie points his chin in your direction, watching Daniel turn in his seat to look over at you.
“No– No way. She’s looking at you.”
Jamie laughs, shaking his head. “Her eyes are all on you and she’s walking over here.” He stands from the bar stool and gently slaps a strong hand over Daniel’s shoulder. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom. You go and have some fun.”
“Wait, but–”
Jamie’s already walking away by the time you make your way to Daniel. You’re leaning against the counter of the bar, biting your lower lip innocently as you wave your hand to get the bartender’s attention. “His next round is on me,” you tell the bartender with a sweet smile.
Daniel clears his throat. “I– I– I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that and–” he loses his words when he feels your soft touch on his forearm, eyelashes batting up in his direction.
“Is it too unconventional for the woman to buy the man a drink?” you tease.
“N– No,” he stutters. “I’m just not used to women buying a drink for me… or women looking at me in general,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Well, good thing I’m not like most women.”
Daniel nods, eyes lingering on your frame. The bartender sets down another drink for him and you lean in, lips near his ear as you whisper over the loud music. “Do you want to dance?”
“Oh, I–” he clears his throat. “I’m actually here with a friend and if he–”
“I’m sure he’s a big boy who can take care of himself,” you interrupt. “Just one dance? Please?” You can sense his hesitation and you bite your lower lip. You know this wasn’t discussed with Jamie, but your advancements were just not working with Daniel. Slowly, you lean in and gently brush your lips against his cheek. “I promise, I don’t bite… unless you like that.”
Daniel glances at you and then over his shoulder to see Jamie with a dark gaze, but he’s smiling encouragingly at the other man. All it takes is for one nod before Daniel downs the drink and stands up. You look up at him, smiling broadly as his hand immediately darts out to rest on your hip. “It would be very rude of me to deny you one dance,” he says softly.
“Good,” you smile. “I’d hate to dance by myself.” You lead him to the dance floor, playing with his fingers as he follows you closely from behind. Once on the dance floor, you turn to face him and rest your hands on his shoulders. He’s stiff and anxious around you, slowly moving side to side to the beat of the music. “Relax,” you coo, taking his hands and placing them back on your hips. “It’s just one dance.” Then, you turn your back to him and sway your hips expertly to the sound of the song that filters the entire club.
He bites his lower lip and pulls you flush against his front, his hands gripping your hips as he watches your backside brush against his front repeatedly.
You reach around him and tangle your hand in his hair, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder as you keep your eyes focused in front of you. Jamie’s staring directly at you, hidden in the shadows as he watches you move against the other man. He can see Daniel progressively gain more and more confidence as his hand moves around to splay against your lower abdomen, lips now brushing against your earlobe. You feign an inaudible gasp, eyes falling shut as you feel the other man become increasingly excited with the way your body moves against his own.
When the song finally comes to an end, you pull away from him and turn to face him. You reach up to rest your hand on his chest, smiling sweetly in his direction. “Thank you for the dance.”
“Wait, can I get your number?”
You bite your lower lip and lean in to give a kiss on his cheek once more. “Maybe next time,” you whisper, pulling away from him and turning on your heel to walk towards the bathrooms.
Jamie follows you closely, taking your hand roughly into his own and pushing you into the bathroom. He locks it behind him, eyes dark with lust as he pushes you against the wall. “I don’t think kissing him on the cheek was part of our plan, baby.”
“It wasn’t… I’m sorry. He just– He wouldn’t dance with me and I figured–”
“It wasn’t part of our plan,” he repeats, hand moving up to tangle itself in your hair. He growls lowly, tugging on it roughly which causes your head to tilt back. “It was already hard enough for me seeing you dance like that with him.”
“But that’s what you told me to do,” you whimper.
“Are you talking back?” he whispers, moving closer until his lips brush against the side of your neck.
“N– No, I’m sorry. I just–”
“You just what?” he asks, staring up at you.
“I’m sorry, Jamie. I’m–”
“Thought I told you to never say my fucking name.” He clicks his tongue and pulls away from you, moving his hands into his pockets as he stares at you from top to bottom.
You clear your throat and reach out for him, hands moving to his chest. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do good, make you proud, and–”
“Oh, baby,” he coos, taking one of your hands in his own. “You did do good. You did make me proud.” He takes your other hand and grabs your wrists to pin them above your head, looking into your eyes. “I just don’t like sharing.”
“I– I’m all yours, I promise.” you bite your lower lip, your own eyes now darkening with lust. “All I could think about while dancing with him was you. I only ever think about you, baby.”
“It’s hard to be angry at you,” he says. “You’re just so sweet on me.”
“And I– I love you,” you add.
He falters momentarily, clearing his throat as his grip around your wrists loosen just slightly. “Yeah?” he asks.
You nod immediately. “Y– Yes. I’m so in love with you and–”
He interrupts you by pressing his lips firmly against yours, dropping your wrists as his hands now move to your hips. The kiss is messy, urgent, and he wastes no time in sliding his tongue past your lips. He can hear you whimper against his lips and the jealousy he felt earlier is now replaced with a sudden desire to make you completely his.
“Yeah? How much do you love me, baby?” he mumbles, pulling away from you as he grabs the ends of your dress and begins to lift it higher to bunch around your hips.
“So much,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pepper kisses along his jawline.
“So much that you’d let me put a baby in you, hm? Would you like that?” he uses his free hand to tug down your thong, watching you step out of it once it pools around your ankles.
You bite your lower lip and nod, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yes,” you answer breathlessly. “Yes, baby.”
“Good,” he smiles, turning you around. He watches you rest your hands on the wall as you bend down just slightly and he groans at the sight of you, pushing his pants and boxers down his ankles as he grabs a hold of his length and slowly runs his leaking tip across the length of your sex. He leans over you, one hand coming up to tangle itself in your hair again. “Gonna fill you up, baby.”
“Please,” you plead, pushing back against him as you feel his tip slide into you.
“Mm,” he groans, pulling away from you. “Patience, baby. Let’s not forget that I still didn’t like the way you kissed Daniel.”
“It was just on the cheek,” you whimper.
He growls and pulls you upright, tightening his grip around your hair. “Your lips should only be for me,” he whispers into your ear, slamming into you abruptly. He groans quietly, hand moving from the base of his cock to rest on your hip. He releases his hold on your hair to bring his hand around your front, gripping your throat lightly. “You should only be for me.”
“I– I’m yours… All yours, baby,” you moan, bringing a hand to reach around for him. His breaths come in short pants near your ear, hand lightly squeezing your throat as his manhood moves in and out of you. He’s desperate to bring you closer to the edge, his desire to fill you up with his come overwhelming his entire body.
“Gonna make sure everyone knows that you’re mine,” he whispers into your ear, the sounds of your moans echoing off the walls of the small bathroom as his skin slaps against yours repeatedly. “You’re gonna look so beautiful all pregnant with my baby,” he nips at your earlobe, breathing heavily against you. “God, you make me so fucking happy,” he admits. “You have no idea how much you’ve changed my life, baby… how you will change my life. I’m a better man because of you,” he groans, eyes falling shut as he releases his hold on your throat to grip your hips instead.
“I love you,” you gasp, walls tightening even further around his length. A loud moan escapes your lips as you move your hands to rest over his own, lacing your fingers over his.
He groans and rests his forehead against the back of your shoulder as his fingertips dig into your hips, driving his own further into your own. He feels the tightness build until he slams into you, painting your walls with his come. He moans quietly, his hips stuttering as he uses your tight heat to get every last drop of his come. “Skip your birth control tomorrow,” he whispers breathlessly.
You nod, turning your head to gently kiss his cheek. “Anything for you, baby. I really do love you,” you admit quietly.
“I know,” he nods. “I know.”
—
Later that week, Jamie gets home with blood splattered on his white dress shirt and knuckles bruised and cut up. You widen your eyes, ushering him into the bathroom as you grab the first aid kit. You feel a sense of dread wash over you, eyes filled with concern at the sight of him.
“Oh my god, what– Are you–” you shake your head, looking up at him. “What happened?”
“What needed to happen,” he answers. His own eyes are distant as he stares at the wall ahead of him, feeling your hands begin to undo his dress shirt. “He transferred the money,” he grins. “And I had to get rid of a loose end.”
“Y– You killed him?” you ask quietly, pushing the shirt away from his body.
He nods and finally turns his gaze to you, staring deeply into your eyes. “He found out who I was,” he answers. “So, I had to do what I had to do.”
You nod slowly, taking his hand as you begin to clean the cuts along his knuckles. Your mind drifts momentarily, knowing that you’re now forever tied to the man in front of you. You never did have to think about his capability of murdering someone, but here he is… standing in front of you with someone else’s blood on his hands, on his clothes.
“Does that scare you?” he asks, pulling a hand away from you to hook a finger under your chin. He looks into your eyes, narrows his own as he tries to search for any hesitancy in your gaze. “Does knowing that I can kill someone for my own personal gain scare you?”
You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. “No,” you answer.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then why does the expression on your face say differently?”
You sigh and set aside the cotton ball and alcohol. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Why?” he asks, jaw tightening. “I told you what I am, who I am.”
“I know and I still love you,” you reply. “What you did doesn’t change a thing, but these hands… it’s hard to imagine that they can cause so much pain for someone else when you’re so gentle with me.”
“Hm,” he answers. “Not always gentle with you.”
“But never with bad intentions,” you quip back. “Listen,” you begin. “I told you that I’m in this with you, whatever it takes and whatever that means.”
“There’s no going back, you know that, right?”
“I know,” you sigh quietly and move your hands to rest on his bare chest. “So, what’s the plan?”
“We go wherever we wanna go, baby,” he answers. “Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere,” you smile, gently leaning up on your toes to peck his lips. “As long as I’m with you.”
“You love me that much, huh?” he smiles, hand reaching down to rest on your hip.
“More than you know.”
“I’m a lucky man,” he says softly, gently lifting you to sit on the edge of the bathroom sink as he stands between your legs. “We’ve got the entire world at our fingertips.”
THE AFTERMATH — Six months after Daniel, you and Jamie had decided to go to Italy. You had fallen in love with the country, Jamie buying a small house away from all of the touristy areas. It’s quiet, serene, peaceful.
You notice that he seems so much more relaxed here. The money he managed to obtain from Daniel and Jonathan providing a comfortable cushion for the both of you. You fall into a comfortable routine with him again – waking up in his arms, falling asleep right next to him. He no longer needs to work and neither do you, so you spend most of your days entangled with one another.
He still hasn’t told you that he loves you, but through his actions, you know that he does.
You’re in the kitchen, making lunch when he walks in through the front door. He gazes at you with a small smile, arms crossed over his chest. He walks further into the kitchen and leans against the counter, biting the inside of his cheek. Through everything that he’s been through, he never thought that he’d be here, with someone he was so deeply in love with. He never thought that he'd ever give his heart to anyone; he had always told himself that he was meant to be alone, that the life he wanted to live was never meant to be shared with anyone else.
But you… You had captured his attention from the moment you both met. Even after the first night you shared together, you were all he could ever think about. You were never part of his plan, but now, he can’t ever think about his future without thinking about you.
When you look up from what you’re doing to see him, a smile instantly lines your lips. You set down the knife and move to wash your hands, feeling him come up from behind as he turns his head to pepper kisses along your neck.
“Mmm, hello you,” you smile, leaning back against him.
“Hey,” he whispers. “What are you making?”
“I was craving chicken parm,” you answer, turning around to face him. “You hungry?”
He nods and cups your cheek lightly, thumb brushing against your soft skin. “Yeah, baby.”
“Okay, I’ll make enough for the both of us.”
“Thank you,” he says with a small smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your forehead.
“I love you,” you smile to yourself, eyes falling shut when you feel his lips on your forehead.
He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around your frame, lips moving to the top of your ear. “I love you too,” he finally admits.
You feel your heart race even faster, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Y– You love me too?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, baby. I’ve loved you for a long time now.”
You grin broadly, your teeth pulled between your lips. “I think you just made me the happiest woman alive.”
“Oh yeah? The five million dollars didn’t do it?” he chuckles.
“No amount of money would ever make me as happy as hearing those words leave your lips,” you admit.
“Such a sweet girl,” he smiles.
“We’ve got the world at our fingertips, right?” you ask.
He grins and moves his hands to rest on the edge of the sink as he brushes the tip of his nose against your own. “This world is ours,” he nods.
“And our little girl’s,” you add, moving one hand to rest on your baby bump.
He smiles to himself and shuts his eyes, face burying against the side of your neck as he moves his own hand to rest over your own. He had always thought money would be the reason for his happiness, for his contentment, but now that he has you in his life with his child on the way, he couldn’t imagine living his life the way he used to.
“Everything I do from now on will be for you,” he whispers, feeling a kick against his palm. “And for her.”
---
npt: @ovaryacted - @yxtkiwiyxt - @princessanglophile - @gelibean522 - @angeiulst
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman character#wyatt bose#jamie getz#deception 2008#wyatt bose fanfiction#wyatt bose fanfic#deception 2008 fanfiction#deception 2008 fanfic#hugh jackman character fanfiction#hugh jackman character fanfic#jamie getz fanfiction#jamie getz fanfic#wyatt bose smut#jamie getz smut#wyatt bose x f!reader#wyatt bose x female reader#wyatt bose x fem!reader#jamie getz x reader#jamie getz x f!reader#jamie getz x female reader
172 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heart On Your Sleeve Part 7
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!
-----
Steve's half asleep on the couch when Dustin arrives the next day, and Robin lets him in.
“Hearts out,” Dustin demands immediately.
Steve winces. “Not a good idea, bud. My ribs are-”
“It's not your ribs,” Dustin interrupts. “You think I didn't see some blood when you were waving your heart around? Don't treat me like a baby, Steve, come on.”
Robin looks at him, and Steve shrugs.
“Okay,” he says, and Robin takes his heart out from her chest.
It looks better than it did yesterday, but it's still pretty pulpy, and Dustin goes pale.
“Steve,” he whispers, voice cracking.
“It's getting better,” Steve promises.
Dustin frowns, looking between him and Robin. “Are you having trouble breathing again? Why is Robin holding it?”
“It heals better when someone else has it,” Steve says. “Some kind of science thing.”
Dustin's frown deepens, then smooths out, and he holds his hands out to Robin. “My turn.”
“Dustin, I'm not going to ask you to-” Steve starts.
“You can't ask, I'm telling you I'm going to,” Dustin retorts. “I'm the first person who carried it, remember?”
Steve looks at Robin. She shrugs, and he can feel that she's not opposed to it, so he shrugs back. She hands his heart over to Dustin. There's some fumbling as Steve gives Robin's heart back to her and takes Dustin's instead, and then -
Huh.
Dustin is just as stubborn as he's always seemed, but underneath that is a quiet fear and a sense of love deeper than anything Steve's ever felt - other than from Robin.
“Come here.”
Steve gives him a hug - or as much of a hug as he can manage - then leans back on the couch again. “Breakfast's in the kitchen,” he says, already closing his eyes.
—
The next time he opens them, it's to the sound of half a dozen gremlins talking in what's probably supposed to be hushed tones.
“How did you all even get in here?” he asks.
They jump, then Dustin juts his chin out.
“I called them,” he says.
“We are here to help,” El says solemnly.
“Dustin told us what happened,” Lucas says.
Steve grimaces. “Look, you guys don't have to-”
“Will it work?” El asks.
Steve blinks at her. “Will what work?”
“If I try to heal your heart. Dustin says he looked it up, and it works best if it's someone you care about. Am I?”
Oh, that's just cheating. How is he supposed to protest with those eyes looking at him.
“Yeah, Ellie, of course you are. It'll work.”
She holds out her hands determinedly. "I don't have my powers. I couldn't save my - my dad, but I can do this. I can help you."
And that's that.
The next thing he knows, they've scheduled up a rotation along with Robin, and taken over his house, setting themselves up to watch TV or play games or do whatever else.
He finds himself alone with El, and he looks at her for a moment before asking, “Do you like cookies?”
Of course she likes cookies.
Steve can't actually do much work, but he can sit at the kitchen table and give directions, and she determinedly follows all of them as she puts together cookie dough.
He can feel the rough edges of her grief and her hopelessness, and he tries to give back as much support as he can.
She isn't alone.
“May I ask you something?” she asks, when a batch of cookies are in the oven and they're eating cookie dough.
“Sure,” he says.
“Dustin is not your brother.”
That's not a question, but he answers it anyway. “Not the way Mike is Nancy's brother or Will is Jonathan's, no.”
She frowns. “I don't understand,” she admits. “Mike says you are brave. That he likes you better now that you're not Nancy's boyfriend. I thought - you are like Mike.”
Oh, he is definitely remembering that for later. “Like Mike how?”
“Mike stepped off of a cliff for Dustin.”
Steve's brain screeches to a halt. “Mike what?”
“There were mouth breathers - bullies. They threatened to hurt Dustin if Mike didn't jump. He did. I caught him,” she's quick to reassure him, like that's what he's stuck on. “So - I thought you are like Mike. You protect your friends.”
“Like you, too,” Steve says, deciding to table the whole Mike thing for now. “You protect your friends.”
She smiles at him, a tiny, fleeting thing before her face scrunches in confusion. “But Max and Dustin and Lucas were not always your friends. Max says you jumped in front of a demodog the day you met her. I don't understand.”
Yeah, Steve's not sure he really understands either - a feeling she must pick up, because she looks even more confused.
“I just - wanted to help.” It sounds even lamer than it did when he said that about cleaning up the graffiti at the theater, but it's what he's got. “Maybe - we don't have to be like anyone, you know? We can just be like us. We can just want to help.”
Her expression smooths out, and he can feel - she kind of likes that.
“What I like,” she says, which is clearly a call back to something else with the way she's feeling, though he has no idea what.
It's okay. He doesn't really have to know what, he thinks - they understand each other.
And they have cookies.
—
He calls Mrs. Byers, just to make sure she knows where Will and El are.
She does, of course, but he also wants to check on her.
Her voice is unsteady and thick with grief, but she tells him not to worry about her, asks how the kids are doing, how he is.
He doesn't want to worry her, either, but he tells her what the kids’ plan is, how hard they're trying to help him.
How guilty he feels about it.
She's gentle when she tells him to let them help, that they care about him and they want to be able to do something good. He promises he will, and that he'll look after them.
He wishes he could do more.
—
Mike's up next, like he wants to get it over with.
Steve wants to tease him about the whole thinking he's brave thing, but when he's hit with everything Mike feels - worry and love and pride and protectiveness and how can I keep them all safe what am I supposed to do, he finds he doesn't want to give him a hard time.
Mike's angry at him, but he's angry at him because he's scared. Because he doesn't want to like him, doesn't want to trust him, but he does.
Mike likes him a whole lot, actually.
And Steve guesses that Mike can feel his own slightly amused fondness, because the kid scowls at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” Steve replies.
He thinks for a while, while Mike sullenly sits at the kitchen table with him and pretends like Steve doesn't know that he actually has feelings.
Eventually, even though he knows it's going to get him scoffed at, he says, “Do you know why teams have co-captains?”
Mike rolls his eyes. “Because they're too stupid to figure out how to play themselves?”
He tamps down on his irritation, though he knows not quickly enough, because Mike looks smug.
“So there's more than one person to make the hard choices. So if one person can't be there, the other can. So no one has to be in two places at once. So one person doesn't have to be everything to everyone,” Steve continues.
Mike scoffs, but Steve can still feel that it resonates with him. “Your stupid sports game is way less important than real life danger.”
“Yeah, sure. But so is your dragons game, and you guys use that all the time.”
He can feel that Mike wants to protest, though he also reluctantly thinks that Steve's right.
“So, what, you think we should pick captains for our Party?” Mike asks.
“Nah. You're already the party leader, right?” Steve asks. He knows that's how Mike sees himself, knows that's the pressure he puts on himself.
Now more than ever.
“But last time and this time, we had to split up, right? And you can't be everywhere.”
“You don't get it,” Mike says. “It's my job to protect them. How am I supposed to do it if I can't look out for everyone?”
“You get some help. Look - that's what I'm here for, all right? Let me help watch out for you guys.”
Mike snorts. “You?”
Steve raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think it's worked out so far.”
Mike glances away. Whatever he's thinking of, there's the faint memory of fear and an unbidden, reluctant wash of relief, of safety.
“Fine,” he mutters. “Whatever, you're in the Party.”
Steve doesn't point out that he's already been in it, according to some of them. He has a feeling that's the most he's going to get out of Mike, for now.
It's enough.
—
It's easy, with Max and Lucas.
Probably easier than it should be.
He and Max swap, and he sits with her angry, confused grief. He can feel her daring him to say something, so - he doesn't.
He opens his arms, and he says, “Come here,” and she's exhausted enough that she does.
He hugs her tight while she cries into his chest, angry with herself for crying and angry with Billy for being so terrible and saving her life anyway. Angry with Steve, too, but that one's too complicated for him to figure out with the echoes of the feelings he gets from her.
“I'm here,” he says after a while, even though it makes her cry harder. “I'm right here.”
He sits with Lucas, after, staring at the door where El and Max have retreated to try to get some sleep.
“I don't know how to help her,” Lucas says.
He doesn't sound lost, but his heart beats in Steve's chest, and he can feel it anyway.
“Me either,” Steve admits, because he knows Lucas can feel it from him, too.
“What am I supposed to do?” Lucas asks.
Steve thinks for a moment. “Be there for her. Don't push her, but make sure she knows you're there. That you're not going anywhere.”
Some of the helplessness fades, and Lucas nods.
“Yeah, I can do that.”
They're quiet for a little bit.
“I want to try out for the basketball team,” Lucas says suddenly, then shoots an almost shy little look over at Steve at his pleased surprise.
“That's awesome, man. You want to get some more practice in after a few weeks?” Steve asks.
Lucas nods, then hesitates. “I don't think that Mike and Dustin and Will are going to like it.”
Steve frowns. “They like me okay.”
“Well, yeah, but that's different. We used to think you were a douchebag.”
It startles a laugh out of Steve. “Wow, thanks, Sinclair.”
Lucas shrugs, unapologetic. “We know you aren't now. But they're going to think I'm abandoning them.”
Steve considers. “Are you?”
“No! I'll still play D&D and stuff with them, we'll still be the Party. I want to prove you can do both. I want - I don't want people to mess with them. I want to do what you did.”
Steve swallows, suddenly a little choked up. He wishes he could blame it on his injuries, but he knows damn well Lucas can feel how touched he is.
“You're gonna be great, man,” he says when he has himself more under control. “You're gonna be way better than I ever was.”
—
When Will's up in the little rotation the gremlins have worked out, he lingers a few steps away, hesitant.
"Hey, man, you don't have to," Steve says awkwardly. "I can tell the other gremlins that you're needed at home."
Will looks at him for a moment. "Do I count?"
"What?" Steve asks.
"You didn't hunt a demodog with me, or barricade a bus in a junkyard, or fight off a bully, or go to the Upside Down tunnels, or invade a Russian bunker. You just let me into movies for free and let me hang out at your house with everyone. Is that enough?" Will's tone had been very matter of fact, but it goes a little bit more tenuous there.
"Yeah," Steve says. "Yeah, it is."
Will comes up to the table, holding his hands out expectantly, and Steve drops his heart into them.
It doesn't hurt, but by now, he doesn't expect it to. Steve's not sure he'll ever be able to thank any of the kids for this, but if Joyce is right, if being able to do something helps them after everything they just went through, then he guesses he's glad for that.
The awkwardness lingers a little after they've exchanged hearts. Probably because now they can feel an echo of each other's feelings. It makes Steve scramble for a topic.
"Mike and Lucas apologize to you yet?" Steve asks.
Will looks at him in confusion. "What for?"
"You think I didn't notice they've been kind of shitty? My money's on Mike being more insensitive about it, but Lucas has been right there with him, you know? Ditching Dustin half the time since he's been back, and before that it was always you playing fifth wheel."
Will looks a little surprised. “How'd you even notice that?”
"Because the same thing happened to me," Steve admits.
"I doubt it," Will mutters.
"It did!" Steve insists. "I had two best friends growing up. Then in middle school, they started dating, and suddenly every time we hung out I was the third wheel. It drove me nuts at first."
Will frowns. "Wait, but. You were always dating girls."
"Well, yeah, because I knew I was supposed to. I did a lot of things because it was what I was supposed to do." Steve'd liked all of them well enough, enjoyed dating them - especially once he started having sex and realized how good at it he could be - but he's not going to pretend like there isn't a reason his relationships didn't last very long.
Nancy'd been the only one he could see a forever with.
The kid's brows furrow, like he's not really sure what to do with that information.
"My point is-” Steve points at him with his spoon. “-don't let them rush you, or make you feel like you have to do something you don't want to do just to fit in with them. They're a lot better friends than mine were; they'll understand."
Will considers that. "Jonathan says I should never like something just because people tell me I should. That it's okay that I'm a freak, because he's a freak, too.”
“Yeah?” Steve asks. “What'd you say back?”
Will scrunches his nose. “I asked if that was why he didn't have any friends.”
He shouldn't, but Steve gives a little snort of laughter. Oh, no, Will is funny.
“Your brother has friends,” Steve protests, to counter his laughter. “He's got Nancy and me.”
Will rolls his eyes. “Nancy's his girlfriend.”
“Point in your favor,” Steve admits. “Still leaves me. And Robin will be his friend.”
Will toys with an apple from the fruit basket on the island. “Are you and Jonathan even really friends? It's not like you guys hang out.”
“Ouch, Byers, I thought you were the nice one,” Steve says, giving the kid a fond little smile to show he doesn't mean it. “There's different kinds of friends, I guess. Did, uh. Did Jonathan ever tell you how I got involved with all this?”
“Not really.” Will says with a shrug. “Just that you and him and Nancy fought a demogorgon.”
“That's because your brother's a good guy,” Steve tells him, then nudges the chair across from him.
It only moves a handful of inches, making Steve grimace - he'd wanted to kick it all the way out from under the table, but clearly he's not at full kicking strength. Still, it does the job, and Will takes a seat.
“I saw Nancy and Jonathan together on her bed one night, when she and I had just started dating. She couldn't tell me about the Upside Down stuff yet, but I knew she was lying, and I thought they were seeing each other behind my back.”
Will's looking at him, eyes huge, and it makes guilt twist in his stomach at the thought of what he said to Jonathan that day.
“We got in a fight the next day,” Steve admits. “I was really mean to him. So I went to your house later to apologize, and that's when I stumbled in on him and Nancy setting their trap. I gotta tell you, it was a really rude awakening, getting my apology speech interrupted by a demogorgon.”
“Try getting your bike ride home interrupted by one,” Will says dryly.
For a moment, Steve wonders if he should feel guilty bringing it up and potentially traumatizing the kid, but - Will doesn't look like he wants to be tiptoed around, and he can feel the faint trepidation from the kid's heart beating in his chest. The fear that someone's going to treat you different.
So Steve snorts instead. “Okay, you've got me beat,” he concedes. “You win the gold medal of demogorgon attacks.”
“Thanks.” It's just as dry, but Will's smiling at Steve like he said the right thing, so he'll take it. “Do I get an actual medal?”
Steve gives a surprised little laugh. “You know what? Sure. Come on.”
His pace is slow as he heads upstairs, and out of the corner of his eye, he's pretty sure he sees Will's hands twitch like he's debating trying to help him up. Steve resolutely ignores it until they get to his room, and then he unearths his first place medal from the medley swimming relay in eighth grade.
“Hang on, let me-” Steve digs around for some duct tape and a sharpie, then slaps a strip of tape on the back of the medal, pressing it down to get it to stick well. He writes demogorgan attack on the tape, blows on it to get it to dry, then hands it to Will with all the solemnity as if he was actually presenting him with a first place medal.
“Oh my God,” Will says, looking a little gobsmacked. “You're a nerd. You're one of us!”
“Hey! You spread that around, and I'll take your medal back!” Steve threatens.
“No way,” Will retorts. “Come back when you get dragged into the Upside Down by a demogorgon for dinner.”
“No thanks,” Steve says. “It's all yours.”
Will is beaming at him, and Steve kind of hates to ruin the mood - but he also really has to sit down. The downside to having them all on a rotation of heart exchanges is that he can't hide when it gets really bad.
He sits down on his bed while he can still do it without just dropping down onto the mattress. Will watches him for a moment, then carefully sits on the bed too, a foot or so away from him.
“So - that's why you and Jonathan are friends? You apologized and you fought a monster together?” Will asks.
“Yeah, I guess so. Look, there's different kinds of friends, right? There's the friends you have because you share a class together, or the ones you play the same sport - or, uh, hobby with, or the ones you just hang out with sometimes. And then there's the good ones, the ones who know you. Jonathan and I might not hang out outside of school, but I know he's got my back, and I've got his. Any time he needed me, I'd be right there.”
His feelings about Jonathan are - complicated, but that's the truth. Whatever else, Steve cares about the guy a hell of a lot, trusts him like he trusts very few others.
Steve's not sure what Will can pick up from him, but it must be enough to convince him that Steve's sincere, because he just quietly says, “Oh.”
“That goes for you, too,” Steve tells him. “Okay? You need me, I'm there.”
Will's cheeks go just a little pink, and there's a faint flutter of some kind in his heart, but Steve can't really tell what it is. “Okay.”
They're quiet for a moment, but it's not really awkward anymore - or at least, not beyond Steve trying to figure out how long before he's going to be able to get himself back downstairs without leaning on anyone.
“Did you date Nancy because you were supposed to?” Will asks after a while.
“Nancy's different,” Steve replies automatically, hearing an echo of himself saying the same thing to Dustin the day they were looking for Dart, and knowing it's just as true now as it was then, even if he's over her now - or as over her as he thinks he'll ever be.
Will mulls that over. “So - I might find a girl one day that's different, even if I've never liked girls before?”
There's something about the way that Will says it that sends him back into the Starcourt bathroom with Robin, watching her stare at him as he said but Tammy Thompson's a girl, waiting for it to click into place for him, and -
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Oh, shit, he thinks he's accidentally implied something he didn't really mean to imply here. He thinks about trying to stutter out a clarification, that when Steve said he did it because he was supposed to, he didn't mean that he didn't like girls - he loves girls, girls are fantastic -
But.
But there's Eddie.
Will's voice had been so small, and whatever he can feel from Steve's heart in his chest is making his eyes go wide and scared, and it -
“Maybe,” Steve finds himself saying before he really knows what he's talking about. “But maybe not. And that's - that's okay. Whoever you like, or don't like, whoever you want to date or not date, it's okay.”
Steve pauses, feels like that isn't enough, and scrunches his face up. “Unless they're like, objectively terrible. If you get a crush on some little asshole, I can and will make fun of you.”
There's a ghost of a smile there. “Like Dustin and Suzie?” he asks.
“Way worse than Dustin and Suzie,” Steve says. “I had to be nice about Suzie, because everyone thought Dustin was making her up. I'm talking no holds barred here.”
—
"Do you think that guy's dead?"
Steve doesn't have to ask what guy Dustin means. He grimaces a little, because even if he wanted to, there's no way he can lie with their hearts in each other's chests. "We blew up their lab, man, I think most of them are dead."
Dustin frowns, looking like he's not sure if he thinks that's a good enough answer.
"I guess," he says finally. Then, so quietly Steve can barely hear it, Dustin asks, "Am I a bad person?"
"What?" Steve asks, thrown. "You've saved the world how many times now?"
Dustin gives him a look. "The same amount of times that you have."
Steve bumps Dustin's shoulder with the back of his knuckles. "Saved Nancy and Jonathan, maybe, but not sure how much world saving I did the first time. You got one up on me."
Dustin rolls his eyes. "Basically the same."
"All right, all right," Steve says. "We've saved the world a few times. Bad people don't usually do that."
Dustin fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "Billy did. Kind of. He helped, at the end. Does that make him a good person?"
Shit, Steve is way too concussed for this.
"No," he says after a little while. "I don't think so. Maybe if he had more time, but I don't think one good thing that he did while he was already dying makes up for all the other bad things he did."
Dustin screws up his face in concentration, then nods. "Me too."
Steve'd really like to just end the conversation there, but he's pretty sure Dustin needs him to keep going, and, well.
He's always going to be there when Dustin needs him.
"What makes you think you're a bad person?" he asks.
Dustin stares at his hands for a little while. "I don't feel bad."
Steve tries to make sense of that for a moment, then gives up. "You lost me."
"I killed that guy," Dustin says, looking back up at him almost defiantly. "And I don't feel bad. I'm not sorry he's dead."
Guilt stabs through him so strongly that he knows Dustin must feel some of it, and he grimaces a little when Dustin frowns at him.
"What was that?" Dustin asks.
"I'm sorry that you had to do that," Steve says. "It's not fair."
Dustin scoffs. "None of this is fair."
All right, yeah, Dustin's got a point. Okay, new tactic.
"Look at me, Dust," Steve says softly.
Dustin pulls a face. "I am looking at you."
"Ugh, no, I mean look at me." Steve waves a hand at himself.
"You look like shit," Dustin tells him.
"Exactly," Steve agrees. "You know why I look like shit?"
There's an echo of something remarkably similar to the guilt Steve just felt.
"Because of me," Dustin says, voice small.
Shit.
"What? No! How is this your fault?" Steve asks.
"I pushed the Russian message thing. You only looked into it because I wanted to," Dustin says.
"That's not - I looked into it for the same reason I helped you look for Dart, okay? Because I'm in this, and we're in this together, and if there's something out there, it's going to find us. That's not your fault."
Dustin doesn't look convinced.
"There is nothing that's going to keep me away from being in this with you, okay? Even if you didn't push me. Even if you didn't even tell me. I'd find out, and then I'd be mad." He pauses. "Like, really mad. Like telling your mom you ditched me and got in trouble so she doesn't let you leave the house for a year mad."
"Okay, okay," Dustin says, but he looks happier. "So what was your point, then?"
His point?
Right, his point.
"I look like shit because of the dead guy and his buddies." Part of Steve thinks he should hedge around this, try to sugarcoat it a little, but - treating Dustin like he's a kid who can't handle this isn't going to do anything. "You saw my heart, Dustin. You think the guys who did that were just going to let me walk out of there?"
Dustin looks at him, eyes big. "No," he admits quietly.
"The only reason I'm still standing here is because of you. I mean it, man - I'd be dead without you. And it sucks that you had to do that, and I wish I could have been faster or better, saved you from being the one that had to, but I'm not sorry that he's dead, either. Maybe that makes me a bad person. Maybe I'm a bad person because I would do the same thing, because I'd have killed all of them to protect you and I wouldn't feel bad at all."
Dustin's lip quivers a little. "You're not a bad person, Steve."
"Neither are you," Steve tells him.
The kid's eyes look suspiciously wet. Steve shifts, straightening up a little and lifting his arms.
"Come here."
Dustin drops down onto the couch, squished into his side. Steve drapes his arm over his shoulder, gingerly hugging him, and pretending that he can't hear Dustin's quiet sniffles or feel the shake of his shoulders.
"You're like the best person I know," Steve says softly.
"You too," Dustin replies, voice a little wet. "You're gonna be okay, right?"
"Yeah. I'm gonna be fine."
His heart might not ever be the same, but with all of them trying so hard to keep it together and help it heal - it makes him feel pathetic, but he kind of thinks he might be even better.
It seems a good enough response for Dustin, who stays tucked in against his side, eyes slipping shut like he's going to fall asleep right there.
Steve wants to bitch about it, but he also doesn't want to move, so he just lets it happen.
"I used to be so jealous of Mike and Will," Dustin mutters sleepily after a while.
"Yeah?" Steve asks absently.
"All this sucks, and they had Nancy and Jonathan," Dustin says.
"Mmm," Steve agrees, feeling pretty close to sleep himself.
"I'm not anymore though."
"No?" Steve asks.
"Nah," Dustin mumbles. "You're way better than Nancy and Jonathan."
This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!
----
Part 8
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 @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta
#steddie#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie fic#robin buckley#dustin henderson#max mayfield#lucas sinclair#will byers#mike wheeler#eleven hopper#steve and dustin#steve and max#steve and lucas#steve and el#steve and mike#steve and will#steve and the party#good babysitter steve
348 notes
·
View notes
Text
episode two: the mall rats
Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.” “Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be. It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.
Summary: dreams are weird, billy is a hitchhiker, and hopper flirts with joyce in front of you (youre not sure which is scarier), somehow robin knows russian and has genius ears, you get caught in an awkward breakup showdown, and you shamefully are shocked when you discover that hawkins is anything but normal. you would think youd be a pro at this already, but at least steve is hot and really good at sneaking through windows.
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, allusions to violence, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 13.2k
Before you swing in: hello !!! new chapter, i am so sorry for the wait :/ the end of the semester has been killer and ive been super busy with my lab job (i present at a conference friday ... pray for me). heres chapter 2, she somehow ended up being 13k words but lets ignore that for my own sanity !
-
There are dandelions all around you.
Their puffs of white surround you as the seeds dance in the air and settle atop of your head and tickle your cheek. They’re soft, reminiscent of the snow that encases you every winter in Hawkins and the days you used to chase Jonathan around in his backyard.
You’re barefoot in a field that you can’t quite place. The grass below you skims against your ankles as the dandelion seeds float towards the tops of the green. It’s a familiar landscape, something tells you that you’ve been here before, and the thought is almost reassuring to you.
The sun is warm against you and there’s someone in the distance. You open your mouth to call out to them, they feel as familiar as the landscape before you does, but when you try to speak, the dandelion seeds begin to swarm into your mouth. The puffs of white seem to turn into daggers in your throat as they cut your tongue and slice inside you as you struggle to breathe.
You try to scream, but nothing comes out. The dandelions now draw blood as they continue their malicious attack on you. You claw at your mouth and cower in the field, trying to flee from what’s attacking you, but the dandelions only follow as you try to call after the figure you saw in the distance.
Stumbling blindly through the grass, panic stricken and longing for the person who had once been at the top of the hill, your foot catches on a root and suddenly you’re falling. This time, you do scream, and the dandelion seeds spill from your mouth as you fall into an endless abyss.
“Y/N!” Your eyes fly open and your body shoots from your bed; you almost head butt Dustin in the process. He flinches back, startled by your violent reaction, and he puts his hands up in surrender and backs away. “Geesh, I was just trying to wake you up.”
It takes you a few moments to process that you are, in fact, awake. Your heartbeat is still pounding rapidly in your throat. You can still feel the dandelion seeds on your tongue and the millions of little cuts they left behind.
Dustin stares at you with slight concern in his eyes and you clear your throat, trying to rid the memory of your dream. That’s all it was. A dream.
Clearing your throat again, you try to calm yourself down. “Why are you in my room?”
“Like I said, I was trying to wake you up.” Your brother says as if you’re an idiot.
“But why?”
“Did you bang your head or something last night?” He gives you an odd look and you glare at him. “Cerebro caught a Russian code, remember? You promised we’d see Steve today to talk about it!”
You rub your eyes, exhausted. It’s taking longer than usual for your mind to wake up and process everything. “I know, I know… What time is it?”
“Eight, now get up and go get pretty for Steve so we can discuss how to become American heroes.” Dustin crosses his arms, silently daring you to argue.
“There was so much wrong with that sentence,” you groan, but reluctantly throw your blankets off of you and start pulling out random shorts and a t-shirt to wear. “You’re lucky it’s the weekend and I don’t work today.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Dustin mocks you, tossing you a white t-shirt and removing the red one from your hands. “Steve likes you in white, now hurry up.”
Your mouth drops in shock, but your brother simply rolls his eyes at you and leaves your room so that you can get dressed.
“How does he even know that?” You whisper to yourself, now alone in your room.
–
Dustin bikes ahead of you as you make your way to Joyce’s store in Downtown Hawkins. He had complained when you told him that you needed to make a pitstop there before going to the mall.
“I haven’t seen Steve in a month!”
“And Mrs. Byers is close to losing her job at Melvald’s, so you can wait the extra five minute detour it takes to deliver her muffins to cheer her up.”
Your brother had tried to argue some more, but you simply shoved a fresh baked muffin in his mouth and began to bike away.
Now, as the two of you head towards Downtown, the early morning air fills your lungs and slowly wakes you up. It’s quiet, Hawkins isn’t quite awake yet in the early hour. Only the bees buzzing past your ear seem to be lively.
You watch Dustin up ahead and briefly marvel at how much bigger he seems to have gotten in the month he was away at camp. He looks older, more mature, no longer the baby brother your mom brought home fourteen years ago.
As you’re lost in your reminiscence, you almost miss the figure that stumbles along the side of the road.
“Dustin!” You yell at the boy, weary of whoever is up ahead. “Stop!”
He hears the fear in your voice and screeches his bike to a halt. Turning around, he checks to make sure you’re okay. “Did something happen?”
You stop next to him and discreetly point at the figure a few yards away. It seems to be a boy, maybe a teen your age, but he’s walking as if he’s in immense pain. “You see that?”
“Yeah,” Dustin squints and also seems unnerved by the person’s appearance. “Think it’s anything dangerous?”
“I don’t know…” Something feels familiar about the person. Their hair, the way it’s styled, reminds you of someone. You squint as well, your eyes catch on the person’s leather jacket and the expensive brand, there’s a faint outline of cigarettes in the pocket, and the sight fills your nose with the smoke that once choked you last winter. “I think it’s Billy.”
“Why is he walking on the side of the road?” Dustin makes a face. “I know he has a car, the bastard almost ran me and the party over on Halloween.”
You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to understand why you feel this tug within you to get closer to the teen. Billy is cruel, he is horrible, and the bruises he left on your neck took weeks to fully fade away. Yet there’s a concern within you as you watch him stumble, as if in some daze, and it's this worry that solidifies your decision. “Stay here.”
“What–” Dustin turns and sees that you’ve gotten back on your bike and are now pedaling towards Billy. “Y/N! Are you insane?”
“Stay here!” You order, not really understanding why you’re doing this either. “Just… Wait for my signal!”
Dustin curses, not at all liking this plan, but he listens. He tightens his grip on his bike’s handlebar and makes sure you never leave his line of sight in case you need him for backup.
As you approach Billy, you make sure to circle widely around him so that he sees you coming, before finally facing in front of him. You brake a few feet away from him, incredibly nervous for how he may react. You haven’t spoken to him since last winter, he had kept his promise to Max to leave you alone.
Billy barely seems to register that you’re in front of him. He stops as if he’s in a trance and blinks slowly at you. You notice the cut on his forehead, how there’s still fresh blood dripping from it, and something within you wants to tend to the wound. Then you notice the grime that covers his face and his jacket, and you begin to worry even more.
As you’re eying his disheveled appearance, Billy opens his mouth, and the action looks as if it takes all the energy within him to do so. “S–sweetheart?”
“Are you okay?” You ignore the nickname he gave you that makes your skin crawl. You’re more worried about his appearance. He’s sweating like crazy, almost as if he’s on drugs, and he’s paler than normal. His California tan is gone, his eyes are glazed over, he looks as if he isn’t really here with you right now.
It scares you. You’ve never seen him like this.
“‘M fine,” Billy slurs. He seems… off. More drawn into himself now, less sure of himself. Scared, even. It’s a strange sight to see: Billy Hargrove, alone and frightened, in the early morning of June. “I… I’m fine.”
His slurred words aren’t reassuring, and a part of you wants to offer him a ride on your bike. You assume he’s heading to the local pool to lifeguard, you know it’s where he spends most of his days, but you have Dustin with you and you’re still nervous around Billy.
The wounds he gave you may have healed, but some nights, when the nightmares are really bad, you wake up to his hands around your throat.
It feels wrong just leaving Billy like this, though. He’s still human, Max has slowly opened up to you about her abusive stepdad and the way he punches her brother. You know that Billy’s actions come from his hurt, but you don’t think you’re ready yet to forgive him. Not now, at least.
Reluctantly, you sigh and wave your hand to indicate to Dustin that he’s fine to start biking over. Billy doesn’t seem like a threat right now in his current state. When you see your brother start to pedal closer, you look back at Billy. “Listen, I know we aren’t… friends.”
Billy stares blankly at you, and you really hope that he can understand what you’re saying right now.
“But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?” You tell him, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm as you speak. However, when your skin makes contact with his, you flinch at how cold he is.
Before you can say anything else, Dustin finally catches up and brakes softly next to you. He looks nervously between you and Billy. “So… Uh. Ready to go, Y/N?”
“Yeah…” You pull away from Billy, your fingers almost numb from his cold skin, and spare him one last glance as you start to bike away. “Remember what I said, okay?”
Billy doesn’t say anything.
You and Dustin leave him stranded on the side of the road.
Neither one of you talk about this.
–
As usual, Downtown Hawkins is deserted when you and Dustin arrive at Melvald’s. The only two cars parked in front of the rundown store belong to Joyce and Hopper.
You hop off your bike and park it in the bike rack before carefully untying the container of muffins from the back. Dustin is slumped on top of his bike, silently complaining, and you wave a stern finger at him. “Wait here, okay? This will only take five minutes, I promise.”
“I’m telling Steve that you’re cheating on him with Mrs. Byers.”
“Not cheating if we aren’t together,” you quip, before opening the door to the store.
When you step inside the store, you’re greeted with Hopper obnoxiously yelling and jumping around as Joyce laughs and claps for him. Curious, you carefully side step the grown man and make your way over to the woman.
“Y/N!” Joyce lights up even more when she sees you, and then lets out a small cheer when she sees that you’re holding one of your signature baked goods containers. “Are those for me?”
“Always, Mrs. Byers.” You grin at her and set the container down. “They’re the muffins you really liked last week, thought I’d bake a special batch just for you.”
Hopper now joins you at the store’s counter in front of Joyce. He’s practically vibrating with his excited energy, so much so that he even smiles at you and claps a hand behind your back. “Kid, it’s like you knew we’d be celebrating a monumental occasion today.”
“What, did Jonathan finally wash his bedsheets?”
Joyce shakes her head and Hopper claps again, now grasping your shoulders and shakes you around. “No, even better! I got Mike out of my house!”
Through Joyce, you had learned all about Hopper’s utter disdain of Mike’s relationship with El. He has spent every day at their cabin since getting together, and even you have had to pry the girl away from Mike a few times to hang out with her. It’s hard bonding with El when Mike is breathing down your neck.
You’re all for young love, you think they’re adorable together, but Christ. You understand Hopper’s frustration.
“Actually,” you’re still being shaken by the man. “That does sound better. How’d ya do it?”
Hearing your question, Hopper thankfully stops shaking your shoulders and now happily points at Joyce. “It was all her. I’m the puppet, she’s the master. Joyce gave me a brilliant script to say to the kid.”
“So you remembered everything?” Joyce asks, now unwrapping one of your muffins with glee.
“Yeah… well,” Hopper pauses. “I mean, I had to improvise a little bit, you know?”
You wince. “Oh, that’s never good.”
He glares at you but continues to explain. “It turns out that getting to Mike was the key.”
His words only make you wince again, and you look at Joyce. She meets your eye and the two of you silently agree that something doesn’t sound right here. She questions Hopper further. “And you didn’t yell at him?”
Hopper hesitates, which you expected. “I’ll… tell you everything over dinner.”
“Okay!” You step in between the adults and wave your arms out, preventing whatever else is about to be said. “I’m still here, let’s remember that.”
The chief glares at you again and narrows his eyes. “You’re right, you are still here. Why are you still here?”
“Because Mrs. Byers loves me and I baked her delicious muffins.” You deadpan, which Joyce chuckles at. “And while I’m sure whatever she told you to say to Mike was lovely, I have my doubts that you actually listened.”
“She’s got a point, Hop.” Joyce voices.
Hopper sighs at you both. “Okay, maybe I said some things, haven’t told El the whole truth, but what else was I supposed to do?”
“Not lie to kids?” Crossing your arms, you make a face at the man.
“Easy for you to say, little miss Hawkins’ sweetheart.” Hopper scoffs at you. “Got any better advice?”
You roll your eyes at his words. You understand that the man is still grappling with being a father again, he’s never been one to handle feelings any better, so you spare him some pity and try to be honest with him, say what he needs to hear. “Look, all I’m saying is that the best thing my deadbeat father ever did was teach me kindness, and it broke my heart when he was dishonest in the end. Just, don’t be that way with El, okay?”
Hopper is quiet as your words hang in the air.
Joyce is quiet as well, looking between you and the chief with a fondness in her eyes. It’s not often she sees someone render Hopper speechless, and she knows that it’s one of the many things she loves the most about your relationship with him. Though she would never tell you this, she thinks that Hopper secretly has his own fondness for you as well.
When the silence stretches for an uncomfortably long amount of time, you clear your throat and change the subject. “Well! This was fun, happy we did this.”
Hopper snorts, relieved you’re moving on as well. “Get lost, kid.”
“Gladly.” You turn back to Joyce and press a swift kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you later, Mrs. Byers!”
Joyce says goodbye as well, and when you’ve left the store, she faces Hopper with a slight smirk. “She’s a good kid, Hop.”
“She is,” he agrees, looking down at his shoes. He will never admit this to anyone else, but to Joyce he knows his words are safe. “She’s the best of ‘em.”
–
When you finally get to the mall, Dustin basically dumps his bike in a spot next to a disgruntled older couple and runs before you can even slow down. He’s so lost in his excitement to see Steve as he runs towards Scoops and leaves you to deal with his bike and the couple alone, which you groan at.
“He acts like it’s been a year,” you grumble, finally hopping off your own bike to grab Dustin’s and secure them both to a nearby rack. After mumbling a quick apology to the couple your brother practically threw a bike at, you run after him inside.
By the time you catch up, Dustin has just entered Scoops and is talking to Robin. You approach, curious to see how this event will unfold. Robin hasn’t met your brother yet, and you have a feeling that his abrasive nature will either make her his biggest fan or absolutely hate him.
It’s the Henderson charm, really.
“I’m Dustin,” your brother introduces himself as you come to stand next to him. When he notices your arrival, he motions towards you and winks at Robin. “I’m sure Y/N has told you all about me.”
Robin raises her eyebrows at the kid, and you try to cover a giggle with a cough. “I’m Robin. I’m sure Y/N has told you a lot about me.”
“I probably have,” shrug, knowing you always talk about the people you love. When Robin and Dustin both look at you with confused faces, you quickly clarify, “I’ve talked about you both, I mean.”
“Can we cut the chit chat?” Dustin asks, now annoyed by how long this conversation is taking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Robin, but uh. Is he here?”
“Is who here?” Robin looks over at you for help, but before you can prepare her for the inevitable storm of Steve’s bizarre and endearing friendship with Dustin, the older teen’s body comes crashing through the backdoor and his sneakers squeak loudly against the tile.
“Hendersons!” Steve raises his arms in the air in greeting, an ecstatic smile on his face when he sees both you and Dustin standing in Scoops Ahoy. You and your brother start to laugh as Steve now dances around, cheering and gleeful. “You’re both here! Little Henderson is back!”
“I’m back!” Dustin cheers. “And you got the job!”
Steve is beaming and his smile is probably one of the happiest you’ve seen cross his pretty face. He had complained about missing Dustin the entire month he had been gone, moaning and groaning about how he was bored at your house now that he didn’t have Dustin to shoo away.
“I got the job!” Steve mimes playing the trumpet before he starts his intricate and dumb handshake with Dustin.
It’s a complicated process, with fist bumps and pretend lightsaber death. They had come up with it during a particularly boring snow day at your house. You watched as they thought up the handshake while you made cocoa for everyone, heart swelling as Steve was so patient with your brother and encouraged his nerdy little habits.
It had taken them almost the entire day to create what they deemed “the perfect handshake”, and as they go through it once more in Scoops Ahoy, you feel the same swelling in your chest as you did the very first time you saw them come up with the handshake.
While you gaze fondly at Dustin and Steve, Robin stands next to you and watches in horror. As Steve pretends to spew his guts everywhere, the girl leans over to you and says, “Is this what you deal with every day?”
“Yeah,” you can’t help but smile softly at the two boys. You missed seeing them together, more than you thought you had.
Robin sees the dreamy look in your eyes as you stare at Steve and she gags. Unhappy with how this day is looking, she turns to him. “How many children are you friends with?”
Steve’s smile falls and he sighs in defeat. Wordlessly he points at Robin as he looks at Dustin and raises his eyebrows in an exasperated manner. He’s had to deal with Robin’s teasing all summer, and Dustin seems to catch onto what he’s trying to tell him, so he quickly changes the subject. “Sorry we got here so late, man. Y/N insisted on gossiping with Mrs. Byers before coming here.”
“I spoke with her for five minutes.” You roll your eyes at him.
“Yeah, five minutes too long.”
“Your breath reeks.”
“You have a pimple on your chin.”
You gasp and quickly cover your face. “I do not–”
“This is fascinating,” Robin whispers as she looks between you and Dustin. “It’s like there’s two Y/Ns.”
Steve, having heard Robin, laughs. His smile had returned to his face as he watched you interact with your brother. “They’re reunited for one day and are already at each other’s throats.”
“Got a month of insults to catch up on,” you flick Steve, who winces and rubs his nose, offended.
Dustin suddenly straightens up. “Speaking of catching up…” He looks at you and tries to subtly motion over at Steve, mouthing “Russians!”, and being everything but discrete.
Steve frowns, unsure what’s happening, but you’re too busy worrying about revealing anything to Robin; she’s scarily good at reading people. Looking wearily at her, you clear your throat and tug at Dustin’s shirt. “C’mon, why don’t we get some ice cream and tell Steve about what you built at camp?”
Again Steve frowns. He had been hoping to share a sundae with you, not talk about boring science stuff with your brother. “Why do I wanna hear about some weird nerd tech–”
“Because you promised me free ice cream last night, when we called.” You interrupt, silently pleading with him to catch onto what you’re saying. “Remember?”
Something shifts within Steve’s eyes and his carefree expression now darkens. He remembers the fear in your voice last night over the phone, how you had asked him to tell you stories to fall asleep to. Clearing his throat, Steve nods and plays along. “Oh, how could I forget? Take Dustin to your booth and I’ll whip up some sundaes.”
You smile at him, thankful as always for how attuned to you he is, before you say a quick goodbye to Robin and tug your brother over to where you normally sit. Once you’re sure Robin isn’t listening, you yank at the boy. “Real subtle back there, doofus.”
“Oh, like Robin would know what Russians could mean.” Dustin grumbles as he slides into your designated booth. His hand catches on something in the seat and he tugs at it, pulling out an old Captain America comic. Holding it up, he narrows his eyes at you. “You really made a home here, huh?”
“Sure did,” you prop your feet up and dig out the Spider-Man comic you had been reading a few days ago. “The ice cream is surprisingly good here.”
“Yeah, I’m sure the ice cream is the reason you’re always here.” Dustin doesn’t even want to imagine how many hours you’ve spent in this cheesy ice cream parlor ogling over Steve. Maybe it’s a good thing he was gone most of the summer.
You flip to the last page you left off on and ignore Dustin’s insinuation. “Hey, free ice cream is free ice cream.”
“Can’t argue with you there.” Steve arrives and places down two giant sundaes onto the table. He slides next to you into the booth with a grand flourish. “Tada!”
Dustin wastes no time digging into his ice cream, making obnoxious noises as he shoves the food into his mouth. You cringe, disgusted that you’re related to him, but Steve kisses your cheek when the kid isn’t looking, and you can’t help but smile. Sneaking your own kiss to his cheek, you thank him. “You’re getting really good at whipping up sundaes, Steve.”
He preens at your praise. “It’s all in the forearms, ya know?” He makes a show out of rolling up his sleeves to show off his arms, which you giggle at with a slight flush on your face. Despite working inside all day, Steve has a nice sun kissed tan, which compliments how long his hair has gotten this summer.
Between his short Scoops Ahoy shorts and his hair streaked with sunlight, summer looks good on Steve.
In between bites of his ice cream, Dustin lifts his head up. “Quit talking about Steve’s arms and flirting in front of me, it’s gross.”
You fling a banana peel at him. “You’re the one too busy devouring his food to talk about anything else.”
“So you admit you’re flirting with me.” Steve teases, winking at you.
Dustin covers his eyes in disgust, forgetting about his ice cream entirely. “Seriously, stop it! You’re my sister, how would you feel if I flirted with Suzie in front of you?”
“I would–” You try to think of a response, but ultimately you deflate, unable to come up with anything. Frustratingly, you realize that the kid has a point; you’d be incredibly grossed out as well. “I would hate it.” You sigh, accepting defeat.
“Who’s Suzie?” Steve asks.
“Dustin’s girlfriend.” You say, popping a cherry into your mouth as you eagerly await the teen’s reaction to the girlfriend news.
As expected, Steve’s jaw drops and turns to your brother. No way the little twerp got a girlfriend before him this summer. “Girlfriend? Since when?”
“Met her at camp,” Dustin smirks at him, proud he’s surprised Steve. “She’s super hot, too. Hotter than Phoebe Cates.”
You roll your eyes at his insistence of referencing Suzie’s appearance, but Steve seems interested, although in disbelief as well. “No, no way. Hotter than Phoebe Cates? No.”
“Why is Phoebe Cates the gold standard?” You ask, unsure when she became everyone’s dream woman. All things considered, she’s incredibly attractive, but it’s weird that every boy you’ve spoken to about this universally finds her attractive. Steve finds her attractive, which you’re choosing not to think about because you don’t look anything like her.
Steve hears the slight bitterness in your tone and shuffles closer to you in the booth. Meanwhile, Dustin takes another bite out of his sundae and nods at him. “Mhm, she’s brilliant, too. She doesn’t even care that my real pearls are still coming in.”
“That’s great, Dustin!” You say, happy that your brother has found a girl who accepts him as he is. It’s sweet, really.
“I know, right?” He sits up straighter in the booth and smiles even wider. “She says kissing is better without teeth.”
You and Steve share a horrified look. Neither of you can believe what you’ve just heard, and you think a part of you died inside. Suddenly, the delicious sundae you’d been eating now turns to cement in your stomach at the thought of your little brother kissing a girl who enjoys his lack of teeth. “Oh, that’s… Yeah.”
“Wow!” Steve tries to mask his own horror and disgust, leaning even closer to you now to try and ground you as well. “Yeah, that’s… That’s great! Proud of you, man. That’s–That’s kinda romantic?”
Dustin basks in Steve’s praise and your disgust slowly melts away. Your brother genuinely seems happy to be with Suzie and even happier to tell Steve about it all. He won’t admit it, but you know he idolizes the teen. Steve’s word is like an oath to him, not even you have this much influence over the boy. If it were anyone else, you’d be offended and hurt, but seeing Steve flash Dustin a wink, you couldn’t have chosen anyone better for your brother to admire.
“So do you really just get to eat as much of this as you want?” Dustin motions towards his half-eaten sundae before turning to you. “How much ice cream have you had this summer?”
“A lot,” you shrug, taking another bite of your own sundae.
Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.”
“Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be.
It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.
Robin, from across the parlor, sees your sudden annoyance at Steve and calls out to him, “Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”
“Ignore her,” Steve groans, not having the energy to deal with Robin’s quips and your anger being directed at him. He turns to you and lowers his voice. “I was kidding, Y/N. You know that–”
“Robin seems cool,” Dustin interrupts, not at all wanting to witness a lover’s feud between you and Steve. He left you two alone for a month, he thought he’d come back to you guys being an old married couple. Instead, he still has to suffer through your weird in between chaos.
You jump at the chance to gush about Robin, all while avoiding Steve’s pleading eyes. “She’s amazing. Genuinely one of the coolest people I know.”
“She’s not.” Steve corrects you, shaking his head. You roll your eyes at him and flick his ear, but as your hand lowers, he catches it with his and intertwines your fingers with a practiced ease. The action makes you blush and look away, still not ready to forgive him just yet. Steve sees the blush and feels your fingers tighten around his and he feels as if he can breathe again. There’s hope, at least. “So, where are the other knuckleheads?”
Dustin sighs. “They ditched me yesterday.”
“No,” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Y/N, did they really?”
“They… Kinda did.” You wince, absentmindedly placing your other hand on top of the one Steve is holding. He smiles softly at the action, momentarily forgetting about what you've just told him.
“My first day back! Can you believe that shit?” Dustin’s hurt from last night returns, which only makes you feel worse.
Steve leans forward now, invested and equally as offended as the boy. “Seriously?”
“I swear to god,” Dustin pauses to take another bite of ice cream. “They’re gonna regret it, though, big time, when they don’t get to share in my glory.”
You drop your head onto the table and groan. “Is this really how you’re going to segue into the Russian thing?”
“You’re my sister. Why would you expect anything less of me?”
“Touché.” You lift your head back up and continue eating your ice cream. It’s the only thing keeping you going right now. Steve has learned how to make your sundaes perfect, adding the peach ice cream you adore with just the right amount of whipped cream.
Meanwhile, Steve has a confused look on his face as he looks between you and Dustin. “Glory? Russians? Did I miss something?”
Dustin smiles mischievously and lowers his voice as he slides closer to the teen. You roll your eyes at his antics, knowing that the conversation that’s about to unfold will only give you another headache. You missed Steve and Dustin being together, but you didn’t miss the way they seemed to double in stupidity when together.
Looking around to make sure he won’t be heard, Dustin begins to explain. “So, last night, as Y/N and I were trying to get in contact with Suzie…” He pauses, sees that Scoops Ahoy is now filling with more customers, and lowers his voice even more to an almost inaudible whisper and covers his mouth.
You and Steve both lean forward, unable to hear him. The teen asks Dustin to repeat himself while you sit there with slight amazement. You know what Dustin is trying to say, you’re more just surprised the kid can be so quiet. It’s a goddamn miracle, honestly.
Dustin inhales deeply and again tries to discreetly inform Steve of the Russian code, but his whispers are still too low to hear. Taking a final bite of your ice cream, you click your tongue at your brother. “You’re really killing it there, buddy.”
“Dude, just speak louder.” Steve’s curious interest is now more of an annoyance.
“I intercepted a secret Russian communication!” Dustin all but shouts, which causes you to practically throw yourself over the table to cover his mouth.
“Jesus fuck!” You look around and see everyone’s eyes on you, and with your hand still clamped firmly over your brother’s mouth, you clear your throat and laugh nervously. “I mean, haha. Pardon me.” The customers give you a weird look but turn away, though Robin continues to stare at you.
Steve gently removes your hand from Dustin’s mouth and once again intertwines his fingers with yours. “Jeez, okay. Yeah. That’s what I thought you said.”
“Did you have to yell?” You sneer at Dustin, still looking around nervously to make sure no one is paying too much attention to the three of you. While Hawkins Lab was overrun by Demodogs and every scientist within it died, you’re still terrified that they still have allies watching your every move.
Not that you think the Lab is responsible for Russians, but… Better safe than sorry.
Dustin rolls his eyes at you. “Your boyfriend is the one who couldn’t hear me.”
You’re about to correct him when Steve waves the boy off and goes back to the main topic. “What does any of that mean, though? The Russian code and whatever.”
“It means that we can never catch a break–”
“It means, Steve,” Dustin sends you a dirty look. “That we could be heroes. True American heroes.”
Steve seems into the idea and you want to scream. You hate the way Dustin is explaining all of this. “This could mean danger, guys.”
Dustin rolls his eyes at you and Steve smiles wearily. “I don’t know, Y/N. It doesn’t seem so bad, ya know? We’ve fought Demodogs, how bad could some Russians be?”
You cross your arms and narrow your eyes. “The Demodogs were created by shifty government facilities. Why are we assuming Russia doesn’t have their own?”
“But… American heroes.” Steve looks heartbreakingly pathetic as he says this, and you realize now that his fixation on being seen as some hero stems from the hurt he still feels over his father. He hadn’t turned into who had expected to become, something that you know his father reminds him of every time he comes back from some business trip. You wish you could convince Steve that he’s more than what his father could ever expect him to be, but you know he wouldn’t listen.
With Steve’s pleading eyes looking at you, lost and hopeless, you can’t argue with him. Sighing, you accept that this is something he has to take part in, if only to rebuild his crumbling confidence. “Tell him what you’re thinking, Dustin.”
“Gladly.” Your brother wastes no time diving in, once more eager and excited to have the attention on him, and it’s only now that you realize he’s doing this for the same reason Steve is: they both feel abandoned and hurt. “We need your help.”
“With what?”
Dustin digs through his backpack and takes out the Russian dictionary he made you steal from work. He holds it up and shows it to Steve. “Translation.”
Steve’s eyes widen and he grabs the book to inspect it. There’s a new spark in his eyes, one that died the day his father told him he wouldn’t attend his graduation. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” you exhale and slump in your seat. There’s no going back now. “I just want you both to know that I hate this plan and your excitement over it, but if I don’t help then you guys will somehow end up in a Russian gulag, and that would just be on me.”
Steve shares a look with Dustin, whose sigh reflects your own. “Glad you have faith in us, Y/N.”
–
It’s Steve's idea to work on the translation in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, and neither you or Dustin argue. Technically, he’s the only one who has any real responsibilities today with work and all, so it makes sense to stay at Scoops and hide out there.
Dustin sits at the table next to you as he replays the tape recording over and over again. Steve paces the room and eats a banana, claiming he needed “brain food” to focus on the complex Russian language. You sit with your head in your hands, trying desperately to hold onto the bizarre language that floats around the room.
After his tenth time replaying the code, Dustin pauses the recording and looks at you and Steve. “So, what do you guys think?”
“It sounded familiar.” Steve shoves a piece of banana into his mouth. You cringe at the obscene amount of food he tries to chew at once. Seeing your disgust, Steve waves the banana in your face and asks with a mouthful of food, “Wan sum?”
“It’s like you want me to hate you today,” you slap the banana away, which he chuckles at.
Dustin gets both of your attention again with slight annoyance. He didn’t miss the weird flirting between the two of you at all. “Guys, focus. What do you mean the recording sounds familiar?”
“The music,” Steve still speaks with his mouth full. “The music right there at the end.”
“Why are you listening to the music, Steve?” Dustin exclaims, exasperated.
As your brother berates Steve for his lack of Russian translating, you sit up in your seat processing what he’s just previously said. While you hadn’t thought much of it before, now that Steve has pointed it out, the music does sound familiar. You swear you’ve heard it somewhere before, but you can’t remember where or when. It’s a hazy memory, distant in your mind, yet right in front of you. It’s incredibly frustrating.
“I think Steve is onto something,” you say, but the two boys are too busy fighting to hear you.
“I’m trying to listen to the Russian but there’s music–”
Suddenly the back door swings open and Robin appears. She looks agitated after having to man the cash register all by herself while Steve hides out in the breakroom. “Alright, babysitting time is over. You need to get in there.” When she sees that you’ve erased her whiteboard and replaced her “you suck” columns with the Russian alphabet, her agitation only increases. “Hey, my board! That was important data, shitbirds.”
You get up from the table and walk up to the girl, feeling bad. While you aren’t sure what exactly her “you suck” column and tallies were for, it had been her creation that you had erased without thinking to ask. Plus, you really don’t want her seeing the Russian dictionary on the table. “I’m sorry, Robin–”
“Not you, Y/N. You’re not a shitbird,” she points over to Steve and Dustin. “Those two are shitbirds.”
“I guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data.” Dustin interjects, a smug look on his face that makes you want to scream. He isn’t at all helping the situation.
Robin begins to walk over to the boys and you reluctantly follow. “Yeah? And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyways?”
Dustin’s jaw drops and Steve almost chokes on his banana. Seeing their stunned reactions of Robin having figured out what you’ve been doing, you sigh in disappointment. They’re such idiots sometimes. They wrote Russian on the whiteboard, out in the open, and have been playing the recording out loud, full volume, on repeat.
Of course Robin caught onto what you were doing.
Which only makes your nervous body tense up even more. You hate that you have to lie to her, you’ve become really close with her during your visits to Scoops, but you don’t want to drag her into anything dangerous. You’re not sure what exactly any of this Russian code means, but Robin has been nothing but kind to you this summer, you truly care about her, and it would kill you if something were to happen because of you.
So, despite knowing how smart Robin is, you try to think of a cover story. “We were just interested in the language. Ya know, a summer hobby.”
“I can hear everything, Y/N.” Robin sees right through your lies. “Your idiotic brother and boyfriend are both extremely loud.”
“Steve isn’t my boyfriend–”
“You three think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on tape and you’re trying to translate, but haven’t figured out a word because you didn’t realize Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do.”
You, Steve, and Dustin all look at one another in varying degrees of awe and despair.
Robin, seeing your stunned faces, smiles. “Sound about right?”
“How could you not know about the Russian alphabet, Y/N?” Dustin angrily whispers at you as if somehow it’s your responsibility to know the ins-and-outs of the language.
“Why would I–you know what, no.” You ignore your brother and turn to Robin, trying to alleviate the situation and prevent her from finding out anything else. She’s too fucking smart, it’s both admirable and aggravating. “Look, whatever you think you heard–”
Suddenly Robin lunges for the Russian dictionary on the table, but Steve’s quick reflexes enable him to grab the book before she can. “Woah! What do you think you’re doing?”
“I wanna hear it.” She juts her chin out in defiance, though you see the slightly hurt expression she tries to mask. She hates that you’re purposely excluding her and taking Steve’s side in this.
You wish you could tell her the truth.
“Why?” You ask in unison alongside Steve and Dustin.
“Because maybe I can help. I’m fluent in four languages, ya know.”
Dustin perks up, now more open to the idea of Robin’s involvement. “Russian?”
“Ou-yay are-yay umb-day.”
Steve and Dustin gasp, believing that they’ve just heard Robin say something in Russian, but you know better. One summer, when the party had been especially nosy and insisted on following you and Jonathan around, the two of you had learned pig latin in order to communicate without the twerps eavesdropping.
Learning against the table, you smirk at Robin. “Osay ouyay owknay igpay atinlay.”
“Holy shit!” Dustin gasps and Steve almost falls over with how quickly he looks at you in shock. Both boys stare at you in awe and you almost feel bad for their tiny little brains.
Robin can’t help but smile at you, you somehow always manage to surprise her. “Impressive, Y/N. Didn’t think you knew pig latin either.”
“That was pig latin?” Steve scrunches his face and hits your brother with his banana peel. “Idiot.”
“Steve, please don’t hit my brother with banana peels,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. It’s only noon and you’re already exhausted from today’s events. “But yes, that was pig latin.”
Dustin shoves Steve away from him and focuses on you again. “When did you learn pig latin?”
“The summer you and the party decided to stalk me and Jonathan.” You shrug, though you smile fondly at the memory. It had been a good summer, just the two of you holed up in your room as you quizzed each other on the bizarre language.
Steve, seeing your fondness at the memory, frowns. He doesn’t like the uncomfortable heat that he feels ignite within his stomach at the thought of you still being so fond over Jonathan. He trusts you, he trusts what you have, but he will never feel equal to him.
Robin notices Steve’s brewing insecurity and quickly changes the subject. She doesn’t have time for the usual hormonal drama between the two of you. All she wants right now is to decipher the Russian so that she can catch a break from Erica and her demanding need to try every free sample ever. “Back to the main point: I can speak Spanish and French and Italian, and I’ve been in band for twelve years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.”
You bite your lip. Truthfully, Robin has the highest chance of unraveling whatever the hell is in the recording. You’re horrible with languages, high school Spanish had nearly killed you, and Steve and Dustin stand no better chance. “Robin…”
“Come on,” she begs. “It’s Steve's turn to sling ice cream and my turn to translate.”
Steve and Dustin turn to you, unanimously agreeing that you’re the leader in this situation; whatever call you make, they’ll listen. Robin sees the conflict on your face and tries one last time. “I don’t even want credit. I’m just bored and wanna hang out with you.”
Your head spins. Robin’s pleading eyes are hard to fight against and you realize that she already knows more than you’d want her to; she’s already a part of it all, whether you like it or not. Sighing, you give in. “Fine, but only if you promise not to ask any questions about whatever we may find.”
“What would I even question?” She asks, unsure why your tone is more foreboding than accepting.
You share a look with Steve and Dustin. The three of you know just how quickly something simple can spiral into chaos in Hawkins. “Just… promise me, okay?”
Robin extends her hand, just happy to finally have something better to do. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
After you shake her hand, she tosses her ice cream scoop to Steve and he hands her the Russian dictionary. Seeing the exchange sends a slight shiver down your spine. You don’t like how much it feels like you’ve just signed Robin’s life away.
–
True to her word, Robin’s ears are little geniuses.
With her helping, you and Dustin are able to speed through the translating as Steve works the register. You’re tasked with writing down the letters that Dustin calls from the whiteboard as Robin listens to the tape over and over again.
“Weird ‘r’ with a hook!” Your brother declares for the last letter.
You write it down and can’t help but frown at the message you’ve seemingly deciphered. Showing the writing to Robin, you ask what she thinks. “Are you sure it was that weird ‘r’ sound?”
“I’m positive,” she says. “C’mon, let’s go tell Steve.”
“Are we sure–” You try to ask her again, but Robin has already made her way to the sliding window and gets Steve’s attention.
“We’ve got our first sentence!”
You make your way over and lean against the window as well. Steve, holding two ice cream cones, seems excited by the news. “Oh, seriously?”
“It’s a hesitant first sentence.” You butt in, still unsure if it’s even correct.
Robin rolls her eyes at you. “Ignore her, I’m right.” Then, clearing her throat, she does an impressive Russian accent. “‘The week is long’.”
Steve’s shoulders slump, clearly having expected something better. “Well that’s thrilling.”
“Told you it was a hesitant first sentence.” Then you turn to Robin. “Nice accent, by the way.”
“Why thank you,” she tips her hat at you before focusing back on Steve. “And I know it isn’t thrilling, but it’s progress!”
And with that, Robin spins around and goes back to the table in the breakroom, eager to decipher more of the code. You’re about to kiss Steve’s cheek and say goodbye, but then your eyes land on a familiar red-haired girl and her friend standing in front of the register. You look down at the ice cream in Steve’s hands and note the familiar order you’ve come to memorize since the mall opened.
“Max? El?” You lean further out the window, pleasantly surprised to see them. “What are you guys doing here? Where’s the rest of the party?”
The girls wave at you and giggle, and you realize now that you’ve never actually seen them alone together before. Normally they’re with Lucas or Mike, so it’s a bit jarring to see them getting along so well without the boys. Jarring, but also very lovely.
“We don’t need those idiots.” Max responds, which makes El giggle even more.
Steve whistles, impressed by Max’s bluntness, and hands them their ice cream. They begin to eat the treat before a thought occurs to him. “Wait a second, are you even allowed to be here?”
You walk through the breakroom and come out the main doors to join Steve at the register. While you’re happy to see Max and El getting along, Steve has a point. Why is El here in such a public space? When you had asked Hopper last month if you could take El to Steve’s graduation, it had taken a whole debate and a fresh batch of cookies in order to convince the old man to let her come.
El is still technically forbidden from being seen in public, and yet here she is: running around Starcourt with Max.
You put your hands on the counter and lean towards the girls. They take a few steps back, now knowing that you’re onto them. “Max, El, what are you up to?”
Their eyes widen while you narrow yours, daring them to lie. Then, quickly glancing at one another, they turn around and run out of Scoops Ahoy, leaving you alone with Steve. You both stand there, dumbfounded.
“I thought I only ever had to worry about the boys.” You whisper, horrified. “The girls were supposed to be the ones I could trust.”
Steve rubs your shoulders and kisses your cheek. “You’re gonna go after them, aren’t you?”
You drop your head and sigh. “Yeah, I am.”
“I’ll tell Robin you had a babysitting emergency.” He presses a kiss to your neck now, which you shiver at, before gently shoving you out from behind the counter. “Good luck, angel.”
Steve’s kisses give you the energy you need to run after Max and El. They’re surprisingly fast as they giggle and trade ice cream cones to share. You call after them as you dodge random people in the mall, but your calls are in vain. They ignore you and continue to skip happily away from you.
“Guys!” When you finally catch up to them, they’re outside standing in front of the bike rack. “Why are you in front of the bikes–oh.”
You see Mike, Lucas, and Will unlocking their bikes from the rack as they bicker over something. Faintly you hear Mike and Lucas arguing about splitting money while Will is silent.
There’s a tension between the girls and boys that you now take note of. Normally El would have already been wrapped around Mike’s arms, but she remains by your side as Max approaches the boys. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?”
When Mike sees El, he drops his bike in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“Shopping.” El says as she glares at the boy.
You’ve never seen her so cold towards someone. It’s kind of frightening, honestly. “Oh, Wheeler, what did you do?”
“What did I do? No, what did you do? You’re the one who is letting her walk around Starcourt where everyone can see her!” Mike shrieks, always finding ways to blame you for his own problems.
You scoff. “Hey, I’ve only known about this for like, a second longer than you have.”
“Sure, likely story.”
“Have you ever considered not pissing off your girlfriend?”
“Have you ever considered getting a better boyfriend than Harrington?”
“Okay–”
Max steps in between you and Mike, annoyed. “Both of you shut up!” She waves her hand over El’s outfit and tries to turn the conversation around. “This is El’s new style. What do you think?”
“I think she looks nice–”
Mike cuts you off. “What’s wrong with you? You know she’s not allowed to be here.”
“What is she, your little pet?”
El clenches her jaw. “Yeah. Am I your pet?”
“What? No!” Mike denies, equally as confused as you are.
You’re not quite sure how you ended up in this situation.
“Then why do you treat me like garbage?” El questions the boy.
You frown at this and subtly step towards Lucas, desperately hoping for some clarification. “Did I miss something?”
“It’s a long story.” He sighs, and you now realize that Max must be angry with him, too.
El continues to interrogate Mike, and you almost feel bad for the boy. “You said Nana was sick.”
“She is! She is sick.” Mike lies through his teeth. You think about what Hopper told you earlier, how he had said some things to get Mike away from El, and you suppose now that it had involved some type of lie about the kid’s grandma.
Then Mike shoves at Lucas to get him to play along as well. Reluctantly he echoes his friend, though you know he’s aware that he’s only making this worse for himself. “She’s super sick, that’s why we’re here, actually.”
Mike is quick to follow along. “Yeah, we’re shopping! Not for us, but for her, for Nana.”
You catch Will’s eyes, who has remained silent this entire time, and he shakes his head at you in disappointment. You look back at Mike and Lucas now, unamused. “Nana isn’t sick, is she?”
“She is! But…” Mike fumbles over his words now. “We’re also here to get a gift for El. We just–we couldn’t find anything that suited her and I only have like, $3.50, so it’s hard.”
“It’s expensive… Had we known you were at the mall we would’ve asked you for money.” Lucas mumbles, which you flick his forehead at. “Ow, Y/N!”
El looks between Lucas and Mike, her eyes showing her hurt. “You lie.” When neither boy says anything, her hurt only grows and her voice wavers with tears. “Why do you lie?”
Again, El’s words are met with silence. Mike looks down, too ashamed to meet her eyes, and you shift uncomfortably, feeling even worse for the kid. You hadn’t expected to witness an awkward relationship feud today, and it wasn’t all entirely his fault. You know that Hopper played a role in this.
Later, when you have the time, you’re definitely going to yell at the police chief about this.
As the silence drags on, the local bus that drives everyone in Hawkins to Starcourt now arrives in the parking lot. Hearing its brakes hiss, El looks behind her and seems to make up her mind about something. Her face is stony as she approaches Mike and her words are laced with venom. “I dump your ass.”
You and Max gasp, though yours is more from shock and Max is more from being impressed.
Mike’s face falls and El whips around and begins walking towards the bus. Max follows, waving goodbye to you, and you’re left to deal with the unfortunate outcome of this bizarre situation.
Laughing nervously, you awkwardly pat Mike’s back. “You’ll… Uh, fix this, right?”
Mike slaps your hand away and marches back towards his bike. His shoulders droop and he looks tired from all he’s had to deal with today. Lucas doesn’t look any better and silently follows after his friend. Will is the only one who remains, and he drops his head to your chest and groans. “I just wanted to play DnD today.”
“I know, little bee.” You scratch his head and try to console him. “But sometimes life gets in the way. Right now Mike and Lucas need you, do you think you could help them?”
Will looks up at you. “I don’t know… Maybe, I guess.”
“Do what you can,” you kiss his forehead, wishing you could do more for him. All he’s wanted to do all summer is be a kid again, but his peers are growing older and leaving him behind. It isn’t anyone’s fault. “I gotta go, buddy. But I promise you and I will do something this week, just the two of us, okay?”
He nods, content with this, and you ruffle his hair before heading back inside to Scoops.
–
Hours later, you, Steve, Dustin, and Robin all uncover the rest of the Russian code.
You stand with your back against Steve’s chest as he has his arms draped loosely over you. Robin and Dustin stand to your left as you all face the whiteboard that has the message written on it, reading it out loud.
“‘The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west’.”
There’s a pause as you all take in the bizarre message. You’re extremely doubtful that it’s right. The order of the words is too abstract to possibly be purposeful. It just doesn’t make any sense.
“Are we sure this is right?” You ask the group, knowing no one else will utter the doubt that settles over the room. Steve tightens his arms around you and shrugs.
“It has to be.” Dustin mumbles, though even he looks unsure.
Robin sighs. “Well, whether or not we’re right, dingus and I have to close up shop.”
Steve groans but reluctantly lets go of you so that he can help Robin with closing. While the two teens wash the ice cream scoopers and put away the remaining ice cream, you sit with Dustin at one of the booths.
“Maybe it’s a code?”
“Dustin, we just translated a foreign language. Thinking it’s a code seems like a cop-out, honestly.” You rest your head in your hands and watch Steve count the money in the register. Feeling your eyes on him, he looks up and winks at you. Blushing, you look back at your brother. “We probably just translated it wrong.”
“My ears are right! We didn’t translate anything wrong!” Robin shouts from across the store.
Dustin perks up. “See? We have to assume we’re onto something.”
You bite your lip, still unsure, but leave the topic alone for now. There’s no point arguing with Dustin and Robin because it’s not like any of you can just ask a native Russian speaker who is correct. If it somehow ends up being a hidden code, then you’ll apologize to Robin’s ears later.
It’s quiet in the parlor after that, but when Steve and Robin have finished closing and he pulls the gate down to lock up the store before you all go home, Steve can’t help but bring the subject up again. “I mean–it’s just, it can’t be right.”
“It’s right.” Robin affirms once more, and Dustin nods at her appreciatively.
“Honesty, I think it’s great news.”
Steve walks next to you as the four of you slowly head towards the mall’s exit. It’s late, you’re tired from your long day of translating the Russian language, and you’re ready to go to bed. Then, as if somehow knowing the exhaustion that weighs upon you, you feel Steve slip his hand into yours. His fingers are warm and the touch soothes you as he gently guides the two of you.
“How is this great news?” Steve asks your brother. “I mean, so much for being American heroes. It’s total nonsense.”
“The goal isn’t to be American heroes, dummy.” You chide, tugging at your hands to make sure he looks at you and listens. “We aren’t still going to follow this, are we?”
Dustin rolls his eyes at you both. “It’s not nonsense, it’s too specific and obviously a code. And yes we’re going to keep following this. We’re onto something, I can feel it!”
“All I feel right now is a crippling migraine forming,” you groan, rubbing at your temples.
Steve kisses your head in concern, feeling bad that he’s kept you out so late. However, he also really, really would love to become someone important. Someone worthy of his dad’s favor, so he follows after Dustin, curious despite it all. “What do you mean a code?”
“Like a super secret spy code.”
“That’s a total stretch.”
You snort. “That’s what I said, but no. Why should we ever listen to Y/N? It’s not like she’s always right in the end.”
Robin winces, afraid to annoy you further, but she can’t help but agree with Dustin. “I don’t know, is it really a stretch?”
“No, please don’t tell me you believe my brother.” You’re betrayed, hurt even, that Robin would succumb to Dustin’s fantasies.
Normally you’re all for believing your brother, but Russians in Hawkins leaving a hidden code in a radio frequency that can be accessed by the public? You may have fought alternate dimension monsters and you may know a girl with mind control powers, but even this feels far fetched.
“Listen, just for kicks, let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What’d you think they were gonna say, ‘fire the warhead at noon’?” Robin raises her eyebrows at you.
“Well… no.” You slump your shoulders, knowing that she has a point. “But–”
“Just admit we’re right, Y/N.” Dustin says, annoyed.
Robin turns to you and almost groans when she sees your hand intertwined with Steve’s. Her voice falters for a moment at the sight, but she clears her throat and carries on with the conversation. “And my translation is correct. I know that for sure, so… ‘the silver cat feeds’. Why would anyone talk like that unless they’re trying to mask the meaning of their message?”
Dustin is next to her now, hanging onto her every word as you and Steve lag behind. “Exactly!”
“It is a weird phrase,” you mumble under your breath, and Steve can’t help but chuckle at how endearing you are when you try to play the reasonable role. It’s never any use, you’re everything that hope and optimism embodies; it’s adorable.
Robin sees that you’re close to giving in and begins to ramble now. “Why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?” Again Dustin agrees with everything she says and Steve shrugs his shoulders while all you do is sigh in defeat. Looking at your brother, Robin concludes, “Guess that confirms your suspicions.”
“Evil Russians.”
“Okay, no.” You step between them now. “What if they’re just, like, really shy Russians who want some privacy? Why do we always jump to the evil conclusion?”
Dustin shoulders you to get you to shut up, and you shove him back, starting a small spat between the two of you. He hits your shoulder, you hit his stomach, and Steve watches with amusement while Robin stares in horror.
“Do we stop them?” She asks the teen.
Steve shakes his head. “I’ve learned that it’s best to just let them fight it out. It’s been a month, they’re behind on their fist fighting schedule.”
“I heard that!” You quickly say to him before yanking Dustin’s shirt to get him off of your back.
Seeing your struggle, Robin forces your brother off of you and holds him by his arms so that he doesn’t jump on you again. Dustin complains, but quickly shuts up at what Robin says. “Focus! I’m trying to tell you that I agree with you, this is totally evil Russians.”
Dustin stops struggling against her, now elated at the idea of defeating evil foreigners. “So how do we crack it?”
You were scared that Robin and Dustin wouldn’t get along, but as you watch them bounce schemes off of one another and plan an evil Russian take down, you’re now terrified of the friendship brewing between them. It’s worse than Steve with Dustin; Robin is just as cunning as your brother is.
She thinks for a moment. “I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges.”
“Have we ever considered a game plan for after poking our noses where they don’t belong?” Dustin and Robin both glare at you and you hold your hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying.”
“Ignore her, Robin. She likes to pretend she’s the rational one in these types of situations.” Dustin whispers to her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve kisses your cheek as a way to console you as your brother continues to speak. “Anyways, maybe the ‘silver cat’ is a meeting place?”
“Or a person.” Robin theorizes.
“Or a weapon.”
As the two of them come up with insane theories about what the code could mean, you notice that Steve is no longer by your side. Turning around, you find him stopped at one of the carousel horses meant for little kids. He’s bent over it, examining it. You frown, unsure what he’s doing, and walk over to him.
Resting a hand against his back, you lean down next to him. “Can I ask what we’re looking at here, honey?” He’s mumbling under his breath and digging through his pockets for something. Now you’re starting to get concerned. “Steve?”
“I need–do you have a quarter?”
“No?” You’re even more concerned now. Placing the back of your hand against his forehead, you check his temperature. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Sure you’re tall enough for that ride?” Robin quips as she and Dustin now join.
“Quarter!” Steve demands, nearly falling over as he tries to catch the one that she tosses him. When he catches it he quickly pushes the coin into the machine’s slot, bringing it to life. Music begins to play as the horse moves back and forth. It’s ominous, almost, in the mall’s dim lighting with no one else around.
Steve listens intently to the music, his face concentrated as if trying to understand something. As the music continues to play, you can’t help but feel that it sounds familiar. It reminds you of something, maybe a distant memory that you can’t quite recall. Wanting to understand more, you lean in close to the machine as well and mirror Steve’s actions. “The music…”
“They’ve both lost it,” Dustin mumbles when he sees that you’re also now analyzing a stupid carousel horse.
“Y/N, you helping little Stevie up onto the ride?” Robin laughs at her own joke, but you swat at her to shush her.
As the song plays once more, it finally clicks. Your mind flashes back to your conversation with him earlier in the break room as you kept replaying the Russian recording over and over again. It’s the same song. With a gasp, you throw your arms around Steve’s neck and begin kissing his face over and over again. “You’re a genius!”
Steve leans into your kisses and smiles at the praise, relieved that you don’t think he’s some idiot. Though his heart is beating wildly, he clears his throat and shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal. “I have my moments.”
“Care to share with the class, dinguses?”
Robin’s voice startles you, having momentarily forgotten where you were. Blushing, you pull away from Steve and clear your throat as well and act as if you weren’t just drowning the boy in kisses. “Listen to the song, guys.”
The seriousness of your tone causes Dustin to finally listen to the music as well. It only takes him a few seconds to piece together what you and Steve already have. “Holy shit. The music.”
“The music.” You confirm with pride, still incredibly amazed that Steve managed to remember such a small yet crucial detail. Since coming to befriend him, you’ve come to admire just how perceptive he is. Sure, he may not be a math whiz, but his emotional and creative intelligence leaves you in awe every time you see it. He’s smarter than anyone gives him credit for.
You wish his father saw this intelligence within him. Honestly, you wish more people did.
Dustin yanks his backpack off of his shoulder and starts rustling through it as he searches for something. When he finds his tape recorder, he starts to play the Russian transmission again. Hearing the audio and carousel play simultaneously side by side, it only confirms what Steve has long since figured out: it’s the same song.
Not being able to help yourself, you again kiss Steve’s cheek, giddy and proud of him. “You’re brilliant.”
He preens while Robin scrunches her nose, unsure why you’re all over the guy because of some song. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s the exact same song on the recording.” Dustin explains to her.
“Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?”
You nod at her. “Maybe? We should look into who produces these machines, it could be our new lead.”
Steve shakes his head. “‘Indiana Flyer’? I don’t… I don’t think so.”
Something seems to shift within his voice and his face now twists with slight fear. He looks as if he’s realized something awful, and you feel your own joy from earlier vanish. A chill runs through you, the same awful feeling of dread that once overwhelmed you when Will originally disappeared now courses through you again.
“What is it?” You softly ask Steve, already bracing yourself for the worst.
He frowns at the apprehension in your voice and the worried crease between his brows makes you want to smooth away the concern. You know he doesn’t want to scare you, that he’s always trying to make things easier for you, so you tilt your head at him and nod slightly; you want him to tell you. Seeing your unspoken permission, he sighs. “This code, it… didn’t come from Russia. It came from here.”
You, Robin, and Dustin all look at one another. Fear settles over the group, you can feel its heavy weight like an old, familiar friend.
“Why does everything happen in Hawkins?” You say to no one in particular, still trying to process what this all means.
Dustin sighs and Steve drops his head.
Somehow, you always end up here.
–
Steve offers to drive you and Dustin home after seeing how shaken up you are by the latest Russian revelation. Tired and exhausted and terrified as usual, you accept.
It takes some trial and error, but eventually he and your brother manage to fit your bikes in the back of the BMW.
The drive to your house is filled with awkward banter between Steve and Dustin. You sit quietly in the passenger seat as the two boys try to make light of the situation, but not even their jokes can lessen the fear that creeps into the car; none of you are sure what to make of all of this.
When Steve pulls up to your house, all that you’ve managed to do the entire car ride is make a mental note to call Jonathan about everything later. It’s not your best plan, you wish that there was more you could do, but at the very least you know that he and Nancy can help.
Dustin scrambles out of the car, desperate to escape the tension within it. “See you tomorrow, Steve!” He calls behind him before slamming the car door shut.
You snort softly at your brother, finally moving to unbuckle your own seatbelt, before Steve places his hand on yours and stops you. He’s noticed how quiet you’ve been the entire car ride and the way your eyes have clouded over with fear. He hates it. “Do me a favor?”
“Yes?” You blink at him, unsure what he could want at this hour. It’s late and your mom expects you home soon.
“Leave your window unlocked for me.” He winks at you, trying to play coy, but you see the genuine concern for you hidden beneath his actions.
You can’t help but smile; it feels as if you can breathe again. “Steve Harrington, why should I leave my window unlocked for you?”
Your smile sends a warmth through Steve’s chest as relief washes over him. He’s doing something right. He’s gotten you to smile. “Because I’m planning on sneaking in after I park my car a few blocks down so your mom won’t see me.”
Though you know what he had been implying, hearing him say the words out loud causes a wild blush to burn across your cheeks and your stomach to swoop. Steve has never done this before, sneaking into your room like some lovestruck teenager late at night, it’s been the one boundary neither of you have crossed before.
“I suppose I can do that.” You say with an air of indifference, which Steve rolls his eyes at. “Strictly friendly, of course.”
“Oh, of course.”
You giggle, finally unbuckling your seatbelt, and you exit the car after kissing the boy’s cheek. His face is warm against your lips and you’re coming to memorize the way your nose presses against the indent of his cheek bones.
When you get inside, your mom is knitting on the couch while Tews sits in her lap. She greets you with a smile and you compliment the scarf she’s making. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect for this winter, mom.”
She thanks you and wishes you a good night, noticing the bags underneath your eyes with slight concern. Inside your room, you quickly clear away the scattered pieces of paper on your desk and arrange your bedding so that it isn't strewn across the room. Steve has been in your room a million times now, and yet you can’t help but feel like tonight is different for some reason.
True to his word, within ten minutes Steve is knocking on your window. Hearing the quiet way his knuckles rap against the glass makes your heart jump in your stomach. Your body practically buzzes as you go to open the window, eager to have him close to you.
“Took you long enough,” you tease, opening the window wide enough for him to crawl through.
Steve pulls himself up with ease, his biceps strain against his Scoops Ahoy uniform, and you’ve never been more thankful for corporate policy. “Sorry, angel. Came here as fast as I could.”
You tug at his shirt and the two of you are falling into your bed. He lands on you with a soft thud and your body has long since become accustomed to his weight. As his body settles upon yours, it feels like coming home. You exhale deeply, wrapping your arms around his body, and Steve nuzzles his face into your neck and presses a gentle kiss there.
Everything swirling violently within your head now stills. The constant onslaught of worries and doubts finally quiets, and you know that despite it all, at least you have Steve.
“We’ll figure it out, ya know.” Steve’s lips move against the skin of your neck as he speaks, making you shiver slightly at the sensation.
“I know,” you start to play with his hair, needing something to do with your hands as you speak. “But… How many times are we going to keep doing this? Be the only people in Hawkins aware of what’s going on?”
Steve is silent for a few moments, allowing your words to sink in. He rolls them around in his head, he knows that the question isn’t one that comes from doubt of what he and the others are capable of. You don’t lack faith, you lack the willingness to constantly place the ones you love at risk. It just isn’t in your nature.
“As many times as needed.” He pauses again, unsure how to express to you his certainty that you’re capable of so much with all the love within you. If there’s anyone in this shitty town who is a real American hero, it’s you. “I mean, after everything we’ve been through these last two years, measly Russians are no big deal. We’ve fought worse monsters than Communism.”
You laugh, he always somehow gets you to laugh, and the sound is as angelic to Steve as your eyes are to him. He tightens his arms around you and relishes in the way your body presses against his, how he can feel your body move with every inhale of your laugh.
Then, slowly, your laughter dies down. Reality settles upon you once more and you want to believe Steve, you do, and you try to reassure yourself that he’s right… but something feels off about this. You can’t exactly articulate what it is, but there's this haze of uncertainty that you’ve never quite felt before; a vulnerability that leaves you feeling cold in his arms.
Sensing your fear rising up again, Steve tries to distract you by changing the subject. “Speaking of monsters, I recruited the little heathens to help with your birthday gift.”
The change of subject works. You raise your head and look at the teen. “You mean the party? You got them to help with a gift for me?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, Y/N.” Steve butts his head against your chin playfull. “I can make them listen to me… sometimes.”
You stare at him, knowing he’s full of shit. “Go on, tell me all about how you got them to listen to you.”
He tries to hold your gaze, refusing to back down, but he cracks after only a few seconds. “Okay, fine. It took a lot of pleading and I now owe a bunch of pre-teens money.”
A loud, full body laugh escapes your lips, and Steve laughs with you. The two of you hold one another and feel each other laugh, chests rising with glee. For a moment you feel okay again, forgetting everything else for now. You’re carefree in this moment, feeling like a little kid again, something only Steve can do to you.
When your laughs die down, you and Steve quietly lay together. No other words manage to find their way in the dark of your room, all that needs to be said has been laid to rest. His warm breaths hit the base of your neck as your nails scratch against his scalp. While you feel safe in his arms, there’s still so much that needs to be said.
Staring at the ceiling of your room, you see faint threads and strings and lines that you thought you put to rest that night in Jonathan’s room this winter. Now, they’re back again, only this time it’s a different boy within your arms. Something akin to doubt creeps in.
Steve already has all of you, you told him you’d wait, but what if you’ve missed your chance again with him like you did with Jonathan? When June began, Steve promised that you had all summer together. He calls you angel and tells you stories to fall asleep to on the phone, and yet the threads that glow above you taunt you.
You love him, you do, but you’re terrified that whatever the two of you uncover with the Russians will somehow pry you apart.
Just like Will’s disappearance had pried Jonathan away from you two years ago.
July looms over you and summer is going by faster than you thought it would. The promise of summer, one that usually leaves the nostalgic taste of honey on your tongue, now threatens to choke you.
As if having a mind of their own, your arms tighten even more around Steve, almost as if somehow you can shield what the two of you have from the dangers within Hawkins.
You hope it’s enough.
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎
⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3
#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#nya#m's writing#this one foreshadows loooooads#like so much#i feel so sneaky
651 notes
·
View notes
Text
Under the mistletoe…gone wrong
rated t | 1.4k | ao3
For @steddiemas, prompt: mistletoe
**
“Why don’t you want to be with Nancy again?” Dustin asked.
“God Henderson, we’ve been over this. She’s with Jonathan now, and they’re a good couple. I’m not that interested in her right now anyway.” More like he’s interested in the boy with brown doe eyes, curly hair and stubborn personality. God, he really has a type.
“How are you this blind, Steve? Just because she’s in a relationship doesn’t mean feelings aren’t there.”
“Dustin, there’s no feelings anymore. Get that through your thick skull. It’s never going to happen again.”
“We’ll see.” He muttered.
“Oh my god.” Steve said disbelievingly. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.
“What’re we talking about?” Robin jumped on the counter, swinging her legs, so they were banging on the cabinets behind them.
“Just about Steve’s tragedy of a love life.”
“Dude! I’m perfectly fine being single, I like focusing on myself for once in my life.”
“Fine. You said fine Steve. Not great, not fantastic. Admit it, you miss being in a relationship!”
“Dustin, not everything is about being in a relationship! Do I miss being taken care of, sure. Do I miss having someone to be affectionate with, yes. But I also don’t need to be in one to be happy. I have Robin, I have you guys. That’s enough for me.” Steve sighed, looking around the kitchen. Robin smiled encouragingly at him, but Dustin seemed closed off. He didn’t want to ruin the Christmas party with everyone at the Byers, he was just tired of constantly being asked about his relationships from Dustin.
Even if he was secretly missing being in a relationship, he wasn’t missing one with Nancy, and he didn’t need to tell Dustin who he was missing one with.
“Yeah, Dustin, it’s okay to want Steve to be with someone but he’s okay. We’re all okay because we have each other. As friends, and sometimes friends is all you need.” Robin slung an arm over Dustin’s shoulders.
After a beat, Eddie peeked his head into the doorway of the kitchen. “What’s all the commotion about?”
“Nothing.” Dustin grumbled. Eddie smiled at Dustin, and ruffled his hair.
“Alright, well Wayne and I brought mac and cheese. Where should I put it?”
Robin gestured to all the other dishes on the counters the party has brought in so far.
“Thanks Buckley.”
Steve’s heart raced at the sight of him. Eddie looked good. He had his curls pulled up into a messy bun, with some out to frame his face. He had on non-ripped dark jeans and a dark, nice dress shirt. It was the most done up Steve had ever seen him, and all he wanted to do was kiss those perfect, plush lips. He wanted to absolutely ravish him.
Dustin asked Eddie a question about his upcoming campaign, which shot them off into a whole nerd conversation Steve could barely keep up with. He didn’t mind watching Eddie though. His eyes lighting up when talking about his passion, him gesturing his hands out to emphasize his points, his loud boisterous voice filling up the space. Steve loved how he took up space, that he was as confident as ever. He thought he covered up his staring by talking with Robin, her going on and on as usual.
Minutes ticked by until Nancy appeared in the doorway, letting them know everyone was here.
Steve nodded to her, and everyone started to filter out. He lingered behind, hoping to catch a moment with Eddie, but he had already slipped out with Dustin.
Walking out of the kitchen, Steve joined Nancy making idle small talk. They stopped in the threshold of the living room, Nancy going on about her new journalist job. He really was proud of her, they had been through so much together, and she was finally building something of her own. He didn’t love her anymore, but he would always want her to be happy doing something she loved.
“Look!” Dustin pointed to something above them. Steve looked up to see mistletoe hung innocently right above their heads. “That means you have to kiss.” Dustin announced smugly. Steve had never felt this much contempt for him before. He really didn’t want to be under the mistletoe with Nancy.
He took in everyone in the room. Everyone was staring at them, wondering what they would do. Jonathon was glaring at Steve, and he tried not to feel uncomfortable, but that was proved impossible since he was already feeling uneasy being in this situation.
Everyone else gave him varying looks of pity until he got to Eddie. Eddie looked crushed, the gleam that’s usually in his eye was dimmed, his shoulders hunched forward. His face the picture of heartbreak and Steve felt his own heart sink. He broke eye contact with Steve, his eyes darting around the room, planning his escape. He squeezed past different people, bursting through the back door.
Steve turned to Nancy, a look of remorse on his face. He didn’t know what to do, everything itching in him to chase after Eddie, but he couldn’t leave Nancy.
Nancy, able to read him as always, brought her hand up to his cheek, bringing his head down and kissing his other cheek.
He breathed a sigh of relief, looking at her gratefully. She gave him a small smile before leaving to stand with Jonathon.
He briefly saw Dustin’s look of disappointment, and Robin patting him on the shoulder, when taking off to the back door. Everyone chattering away again.
He stood outside, scanning the area for Eddie. The chill of the air made him shiver, the dim light making him squint his eyes, trying to see any figure from here to the shed.
He turned his head to the right, about to go down the stairs when he finally caught sight of Eddie.
Eddie was slumped against the back of the house, looking down at his feet, where they scuffed the ground.
He looked tormented, and Steve took a deep breath, not wanting to ruin this all over again.
“Hey, thought I saw you come out here.” Steve started gently.
Eddie swiped the back of his hand across his face quickly before looking at Steve.
“Uh-yeah. Inside was getting a little stuffy, y’know?”
Steve nodded, descending the stairs to get closer to him.
“Shouldn’t you be inside with Nancy anyway?” Eddie sniffed, eyes flickering around the yard.
He felt a tug in his chest. “Why would I be with Nancy?”
“Just seemed like the perfect situation. You guys under the mistletoe together.” Eddie shrugged with an aloofness about him. To make out that the sight of Steve under the mistletoe with Nancy didn’t bother him at all.
Steve took a chance and asked, “Can I tell you something?”
Eddie nodded.
“I didn’t want to be under the mistletoe with her. I never did.” He confessed.
“I thought you were in love with her?” Eddie looked confused, but Steve was tired of him always pushing him to Nancy. It was never going to happen. He only wanted the man in front of him. If he could have him again.
“I haven’t been in a long time. I don’t know why no one believes me. It’s not going to happen again.” Steve said exasperated.
“Maybe because you guys have a lot of history, Steve. It’s hard to let go of someone like that in your life.” Eddie tried not to sound too bitter.
“She’s not the only one I have history with Eddie.”
Steve still remembered the way Eddie curled into him, how he sounded when mapping out his body, drawing out those sweet sounds. He thought about those kisses, languid and soft. He recalled how he felt, full of warmth and love. He didn’t understand how Eddie thought he was still in love with her, when he’s been in love with him the whole time.
Eddie was looking up at him with those big doe eyes he loved so much. They were glossy, and red around the edges, his lips jutted out in a pout. Steve could only stare and said in a soft voice. “I wanted it to be you. That’s all I ever wanted.”
Something seemed to break in Eddie as he reached out to grab Steve’s collar, pulling him down until their lips collided. This kiss was nothing like their previous ones. This one was fast, a flurry of movement, of passion being pushed and pulled between them. Steve’s arms wrapped around Eddie, scouring his back, holding him as close as he could. Their lips nipping at each other, Eddie’s tongue fighting his, like he was desperate to be felt by Steve.
And Steve couldn’t feel anything but Eddie.
#steddie#steddiemas2024#fanfic#eddie x steve#steddie fic#fluff#getting together#jealous eddie#mistletoe
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
hold me like water
Eddie Munson x shy!Reader in the aftermath, you and Eddie learn how to live again.
foreword: followup to my unofficial eddie x shy!reader series. not necessary to read in order but here’s one and two if u want. this takes place after the events of s4 but everyone (including the trailer sorry i’m too attached) is mostly fine and so is the town. except for all that pesky PTSD… lol. written epilogue-style but I just wanted to give them something soft… not done w them yet!!
cw: PTSD, nightmares, trauma bonding, medical stuff, scarring/wounds, light smut post-traumatic event, R has breasts+a vagina, R wears a bikini
wc: 3k
___
For the first month, you don’t leave the trailer.
More specifically, you don’t leave Eddie.
While he’s recovering from the attacks, you confine yourself to his room; Wayne had pulled in a comfy armchair for you when he realized you’d been sleeping on Eddie’s floor for three nights in a row, just to be closer to him than the guest bed down the hall.
Now, with the chair, you’re actually getting some sleep at night- enough to tend to Eddie’s wounds every morning and evening without yawning comically loud.
After the first few weeks of healing, while Eddie is still tender but learning to walk shakily with the use of a cane, you still stick to the boundaries of the trailer. Neither of you really want to go anywhere, anyways: Hop’s instructions to keep a low profile while the dust settles on the murder investigation have to be taken seriously.
Plus, Eddie and you are very well taken care of by your friends-turned-family. Anything you could ever want for shows up on your doorstep and kitchen counters by a rotating crew of familiar faces; Mrs. Byers brings groceries and finds excuses to stay longer, busying herself by making tea, doing the dishes; Mrs. Wheeler brings casseroles and her son, who steals Eddie away for intense D&D discussions (Eddie made Mike interim DM, and the power’s really gone to his head).
The trailer is almost always filled during the day, bikes in a heap on the front strip of grass, Beemer parked at an angle to avoid a popped tire. Steve picks up Eddie’s medication every Friday, brings it over along with a bunch of VHS’s and Robin. Sometimes Jonathan and Argyle join in on movie nights, too, and Nancy when she’s not busy with work.
It’s easy and peaceful, spending time with people who understand and share the same traumas. People who don’t stare at the bandages or Eddie’s cane or ask why you won’t leave the trailer any more.
The government officials from the now-defunct Hawkin’s lab call every few days, wall-mounted landline ringing like a toll bell at 3pm sharp. You tell them the same thing, every time, curt and firm- if they want to interrogate you and Eddie, they’ll damn well have to come here. Or drag you, kicking and screaming.
Steve asks about it one afternoon, naive and confused with the force of your phone slamming- “Y’know, they probably just want you to sign one of those Don’t-Talk-About-This papers and give you a bunch of money. I heard they’re setting up college funds for all the kids-”
“Good for them.” Your dry remark cuts in smoothly from the couch, hand on Eddie’s knee as a lifeline. In a voice wobbly with anger, eyes glittering with unshed tears, your chin tilts up, defiant- “It’s the least they can do. I want them to look me in the eyes when they try to grovel for my silence. For Eddie’s. After all they fucking did to us, to the town-”
Eddie’s hand slips over yours, squeezes. Steve raises his hands in a placating gesture, surrendering with haste, then retreats to the kitchen for movie night snacks.
“Never heard you so bossy before,” Eddie murmurs, at the shell of your ear. Goosebumps cascade across your neck when he rests his heavy palm there, cold rings warming to the temperature of your skin. “Goin’ to bat for me. It’s hot.”
You’re a couple of steps removed from the quiet, shy thing Eddie’s known for years. Seeing the love of your life almost bleed out in an alternate dimension will do that to a person.
Owens shows up at the trailer one morning, at the end of summer after all the phone calls provide no results. Him and two of his muscliest-looking lab guys are met by you in the threshold of the door, arms crossed and somehow looking fierce despite the fuzzy blue bathrobe you’re swathed in.
“The goons stay outside.” Your word is final. Even the doctor knows it.
The two men in coats settle on either side of the porch, while Owens is allowed to sit at the kitchen table indoors, accepting a mug of coffee Eddie generously supplies (you certainly aren’t in a hospitable mood, glaring daggers at him from the opposing chair).
Predictably, the doctor explains he’s here with some NDA’s for both you and Eddie to sign, the shiny promise of a government-allotted chunk of change waiting on the other side.
Hidden from view under the table, your fingertips skate over Eddie’s palm, lying open and pliant for you. Calmly, like you’re stating the weather, you tell Owens to double his offer.
By the time he’s done using your phone, Owens is wiping sweat from his forehead with a kerchief. Once the papers are signed, him and the lab goons load back into the shiny black car like silent sentries.
They leave, and Eddie laughs, a full, rich noise that makes your heart ache. His fist slams the table in excess of humor, mugs jumping with a clink. “Goddamn. You just made the richest guy in Hawkins run off with his tail between his legs.”
“Pretty sure Harrington Senior has him beat,” you mutter around the rim of your coffee, unable to repress the satisfied smirk that tugs at your lips.
The payoff is a sickening amount, more money than you or Eddie have ever seen- enough to send you both to college, twice, with a hefty nest egg for the future leftover. You put the bulk of yours in a savings account, just so you don’t get dizzy looking at the numbers.
Eddie does the same, with the exception of a down payment on the vacant trailer at the end of the park. Along with the new place, Wayne gets a fresh mattress, a couch that doesn’t have holes, and a proper, working stereo to play all his “old man country” tapes (in Eddie’s words). The quiet and deep thankfulness Wayne gives you both makes you feel like you’d do it all over again, like the fight was all worth it for the Laz-E-Boy in the corner and the new mug collection shelf.
Eddie floats the idea of college again, now that you’ve got the funds to make it possible. You’ve certainly got the time, too- neither of you have any need to work long shifts at the diner or garage anymore.
Unfortunately, this makes it all the more easy to form reclusive habits. By autumn, the solidness of your refusal to leave the trailer has less to do with helping Eddie than it does with your own fear of what lies beyond the comfort of your home.
Most days, you work on healing. Eddie’s still your lifeline, gentle encouragement turning stern when you need it the most- he talks you into visiting Max by yourself, a veritable feat; the short walk between the two trailers feels like death, your knock shaky with nerves. It feels horrifying, to walk the thin line of being both braver and more scared than you’ve ever been.
You stay for an hour. The next day, for two- Max has a new kitten that passes the time easily, the girl giggling behind her new thick-rimmed glasses while pulling string across the floor for the tiny thing to pounce on. One night, you bring dinner for both the Mayfields and stay well past supper; it’s nearly 11 by the time you return to Eddie’s open arms, triumphant in your success with a tupperware of Mrs. Mayfield’s cookies to boot.
Your bravery builds in increments. Eddie cleans the rust from his van that’s been sitting untouched since spring, and takes you on drives that go a bit farther each time. The Byers’ place for lunch, Dustin’s to pick up an extra radio, then all the way to north Hawkins for more of Mrs. Wheeler’s plastic-wrapped dishes she asks you to relieve her of.
When winter rolls around, Steve takes advantage of his now-permanently empty home to throw a holiday party. It’s loud with chatter and overwhelming with noise but it feels so good to be surrounded by it, by everyone, Eddie’s hand a steady comfort on your waist or lower back as you eat and drink and make merry with your friends.
Hop pulls it off, a Christmas miracle- all the murders get pinned on Jason, buried six feet under with parents who skipped town ages ago. You’re out for groceries one cold morning and realize that not a single shopper has even given Eddie a second glance, conspicuous as he is in black leather and flashy silver jewelry.
The strings loosen with a sigh, fluttering in release, allowing some space for you both to breathe.
Sex has been… different, lately. There’s been lots of readjusting, both physically and mentally- accounting for unforeseen muscle spasms, bone-deep bruises hidden beneath rippled skin, tissue and scarring pulled taut, testing the limits of new pains.
The first time, just a few weeks after the attacks, Eddie had begged to go down on you. He wanted the comfort of your thighs, your taste and scent, all-consuming, to think about anything else other than his wounds.
You’d been more than hesitant, terrified of hurting him, of letting your focus shift inwards. More in your head than ever, it took Eddie over an hour to coax an orgasm from the walls that’d been built back up around your pleasure; even with his lithe tongue and long, seeking fingers, it took forever and an age to get you anywhere close to the edge.
Eddie didn’t complain once- in fact, he kind of got off on the amount of time you let him spend between your legs. The muscles in his right arm were trembling by the time you clamped down on his fingers, jaw burning but keeping the suction at your clit even while your hips rolled strong as a tidal wave against his face.
And before you could open your mouth to apologize, or say something equally silly, panting and wrung-out and heartbreakingly beautiful against the pillows, Eddie’s teeth flashed at the inside of your thigh.
You’d jolted, breathless and giggly, endorphins soaring as he’d tenderly crawled up the length of your body to slip his tongue between your lips, sharing the earthy tang of your release.
“One more,” he’d said, uninjured arm taking the bulk of his weight while he dipped down to mouth at your breast. “And this time, put your hands in my hair. I’m getting jealous of the sheets.”
As Eddie’s physical limitations lessen with time, your mental barriers ease, as well. There’s still some stilted moments of relearning, of working together in bodies that don’t always respond the way you want them to.
There are raw, stripped-open emotions that have you clawing at Eddie’s back, his nails leaving indents on the flesh of your hips. To keep pressure off the worst of his side wounds, you find new positions, usually some form of your thighs draped over his or the welcome weight of you in his lap.
He’s endlessly patient. The kind of patient that makes you want to run, far and fast, and he knows it; when your pleasure recedes, frustration in the form of tears and hands pressed to your face, Eddie’s there to soothe. To try a new angle, to slow down or speed up, offering a break or an extra pillow to keep you comfortable and feeling good.
If you were comforted by each other’s presence during the night before the Spring Break from hell, it’s tenfold now. Neither of you will sleep a wink if Eddie’s not wrapped around you like a koala, snoring gently, overheated and tacky with sweat by morning but neither willing to compromise the closeness.
Nightmares are easier to handle, too- you’re there to soothe the sweat-coated bangs from Eddie’s forehead when he wakes up whimpering in fear, coaxing his panic and adrenaline back down. He’s so fine-tuned to the rhythms of your body that even though your own nightmares rarely end in noise, Eddie often wakes anyways from the disturbance in your breaths.
Just as you do for him, sometimes all it takes to get you back to sleep is a tender voice, a stroke of the arm, a reassurance in the dark that he’s with you.
A year after it all happened, Eddie hears you singing in the shower.
If he wasn’t craning to hear the gentle splashing noises as confirmation of your presence, he would’ve missed it. Eddie leans with his good shoulder on the wood frame, door partially cracked to let the melody of your voice float through.
Stevie Nicks is crooning sweetly from the handheld radio on the bathroom counter, and you, just as sweet and twice as pretty singing along.
Eddie closes his eyes, puts a hand to his chest; through the fabric of his shirt he feels the raised, bumpy edges of scar tissue, but there’s something beyond it. Curling around his heart, making it ache- it feels like healing. Like getting better, at least well enough to sing.
He’s dumbstruck with it.
That summer, he takes you to Lover’s Lake.
It’s just the two of you, which makes it easy for Eddie to go shirtless; currently, he’s enjoying the way you’re watching him from the back of the van, bare feet swinging and paired with a killer black bikini that he begged you into.
He’s not so sure the scars that criss cross his front and sides are as “metal” as you claim they are, but he’s trying. He’d drag himself over hot coals just to get half a smile; going shirtless is nothing.
You reach for him, and he walks into the V of your legs willingly, your arms wrapping around his torso, head pressed to the middle of his sternum. Eddie plants his hands on either side of your hips, drops his chin to fit you under it.
“Come swim with me.”
In response, you sigh- a longsuffering, worried sort of noise that leaves your lungs and enters his. He’s been trying to talk you into it for weeks- it’s a miracle he’s gotten you both this far, dressed and ready to take the plunge.
Eddie’s not really sure why this swim is so important to him. It might have something to do with the fissure at the bottom of the lake, all scabbed over and sewn back together; or maybe it’s the surface, skimmed by a light breeze and rippling gently, nothing of monsters or alternate dimensions leftover to disturb the placidity.
Eddie wants to prove that it’s safe, for you and for himself. That the nightmares and the sticky feelings and the tears, they all mean something, of course they do- but the only way to is through.
So he takes you by both hands and you only drag your feet a little until he’s walking backwards on the shore, water lapping up to his ankles, and you freeze. Heels digging into the wet earth, tense under Eddie’s grasp, eyes wide and darting around like something might come crashing through the treeline.
“Hey. Look at me.” In a voice that’s reserved for you and you alone, Eddie speaks softly, calmly, letting out all the tension of his pull to just hold, instead. “You’re safe. There’s nothing out here that’s gonna hurt us, okay? Steve went all the way back down to the bottom to make sure. No more gate. No nothin’. It’s just a lake.”
“Just a lake,” you repeat, like a mantra as you take another step. The water rolls over your feet; Eddie murmurs his encouragement while leading.
“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s just a lake. Our lake.”
The water rises, up the back of Eddie’s calves, swishing around your shins; the pebble-rock floor shifts with each step. You and Eddie used to spend long summer days here, swimming and picnicking and fucking in the back of the van, syrupy-slow and stretched with time.
“Our lake.” You’re shivering, teeth chattering, even though the air is hot and the water is just-cool.
Eddie rubs at your upper arms, allaying the goosebumps; waterline up to your waists, now. The rock you’re balanced on beneath the surface jolts, and you stumble forward into Eddie’s arms; in a smooth maneuver, he catches you while sinking into a crouch, pulling you both from the safety of the shallows.
Then, your kicking feet meet nothing but the vastness of the lake, nails biting into Eddie’s arms, fear rattling through your spine until Eddie- treading water while valiantly supporting you, too- tosses his black hair back and whoops.
The sound is loud, joyful, ricochets across the lake and bounces back from the other shore. He crows at the sun, startles a laugh out of you as he clings harder, kicking to keep you both afloat- “Holy SHIT! We’re swimming in Lover’s Lake!”
“Holy shit,” you agree, giddy and breathless, nerves turning over into disbelief, excitement. “We’re swimming in our lake.”
Eddie kisses you. It’s sloppy and he misses the middle of your mouth as you both try to keep the other from slipping under, teeth clashing, giggles escaping around the sides. He puts a hand dripping with lake water to your cheek, holding you in place, thumb pressing gentle just under your eye.
“I love you.”
“Love you.” Your reply is swift and just as eager, hand coming to rest at the puckered line of scarring at Eddie’s chest.
Somewhere at the bottom of Lover’s Lake, a twin crack, a Something that was never supposed to be but now just Is.
You feel extraordinarily grateful, awash with we made it, as you and Eddie swim out further, shores in the shape of a heart holding you both from all sides.
___
for more shy!Reader content: masterlist
289 notes
·
View notes
Text
Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby
Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie
⚠️18+: angst, jealousy, possessiveness, eddie being a jerk, smut
wc: 10.6k
A/N: Sorry for the lack of update, i am not proud of this chapter BUT its the beginning of the angst loves. not proud of how i portrayed words here but its okay its fine, thank u @andvys for proofreading it ❤️
Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!
Taglist is closed
<- Prev. chapter - Next chapter ->
CHAPTER 20
He wiped his forehead for the seventh time in the past five minutes.
The heat inside his shop was being a little suffocating now that the spring completely rolled over. It was humid and everything just felt too sticky. Every tool he grabbed almost slipped out of his hands thanks to the grease and sweat. He looked around to see Jeff in the same situation, working shirtless over a mustang’s open hood.
“I am going to get the AC fixed, I didn’t think the heat would come so quickly Jeff.” Eddie sighed, feeling a bit horrible with himself for making his friend work with these conditions. Jeff only chuckled, shaking his head, grabbing the rag from the back pocket of his jeans and wiping his hands with it.
“Not your fault, Eds. You can’t control the weather… but yes, please, fix this.” He pointed at the high ceiling where the ventilation system was located. Eddie groaned and nodded, getting up from the stool he was sitting on, flexing his body and deciding to discard his shirt that was drenched in sweat from working hunched over for over an hour.
He stretched his neck all around as he tightened the bun in his head. He sometimes wanted to chop all of his hair off when it was work and heat coming together. The hair stuck to his face and it felt so wrong, and the amount of times he has to wash it in the spring and summer is insane… but no. He would never chop his beautiful mane, as he calls it, away just because of some temporary distress.
He heard Jeff start coughing loudly, and Eddie turned around to see his friend looking wide eyed at him, his own fist punching his sternum while Eddie stood completely baffled, not knowing what happened to his friend.
“The fuck happened–”
“Holy fucking shit, your back! Were you attacked by a fucking animal or something man!?” And Eddie was confused for just one more second until– Oh.
He felt a twitch in his pants as he realized what marks he was talking about. The nail scratches all over his back, on his biceps, on his chest… The bite marks and hickeys that lingered on his collarbone and some on his thighs that he couldn’t see thanks to his jeans. They were so intense that they popped out just like his tattoos. Eddie cleared his throat as he grabbed the rag behind his back pocket, a smirk displaying on his features as he started to clean the sweat off his chest a bit with it.
“Uh, sure, you can call it that.” Jeff whistled as his eyes stared wide eyed at his friend.
“Well fuck… I’ve never seen you marked up like this. She’s good GOOD, isn’t she?” And Eddie’s mind wandered back to two days ago, how the two of you were driving back from Jonathan’s bar and you had a few more drinks than he had, making you bold and confident. You had rubbed your hand all over him through the whole ride to your house, making him lose his self control minute by minute.
You had leaned over at red lights, kissed his neck, bit his shoulder that made him hiss, and when you two finally arrived at your home, the moment you closed the door, you slammed him against it and dropped to your knees. You controlled the night. He was stunned and just purely amazed by you. Every encounter was something new and– you two couldn’t keep your hands off eachother.
Out of the seven days of the week, you two fucked four or even five. A month passed since you two started this new agreement, and he never in his life felt this much desire towards someone. He assumes it’s because of your capability to do things his other hookups had yet to match. It must be it.
“She is… excellent. The best I’ve ever fucking had, Jeff.” His friend whistles again at that, pointing at Eddie’s back with a proud chuckle.
“I can see that. I’ve never in my life seen those marks on you.”
“I’m not one to let himself be marked easily.” And it was the truth, and Jeff tilted his head, squinting his eyes, a playful smile appearing on his lips as Eddie frowned. “What?”
“I think someone is falling a little deeper than he should~” He groaned loudly at Jeff’s words, rolling his eyes, pushing away the fact his stomach did some turn at them.
“No, I am not. I just get too lost in it and forget to tell her not to.” Eddie retorts, crossing his arms over his chest as Jeff raises an accusatory eyebrow at him.
“Right. So this is just fucking then? Just a little hook-up every now and then?” He asks with a cheeky tone behind his voice, making Eddie squint and push his friend on the arm, making Jeff laugh.
“What else?”
“She the only one?” At that Eddie stopped in his tracks, his eyes getting a bit lost at the question because– you were. For some reason, he couldn’t be with anyone else, and he had hovered over the messaging button on past girls' Instagrams… But he always went back to your chat.
He never did exclusivity. It was too intimate, too private, and the last thing he wanted was to make things complicated. He didn’t want them to be complicated with you, and if they did become that way, things might end, and he doesn’t want them to end, not this soon. But you two are just having sex, yet the idea of someone else touching you was making him clench his fists tightly every now and then.
He wondered if you felt that same kind of worry or passing thought with him. Wondered if he was sleeping with other girls, if he talked to others. This is just because of who he is, no more than that. He ignores the fact this hasn’t happened with any of his past hook-ups, better to be oblivious than think too much over it.
“Um–” As he opened his mouth to talk, not really knowing if he was going to tell the truth or deny it, the small garage door opened, the one made for employees, and Steve walked in with three bags of food in his hand. Eddie sighed with relief, feeling saved by a god or something and Jeff rolled his eyes, but immediately put the rag away as his mouth salivated when he saw Steve walking towards them with food.
“Hello there ladies– HOLY SHIT!” Steve jumped a bit as he saw Eddie’s body and– fuck.
“I had the same fucking reaction Steve.” Jeff commented, chuckling as he saw Eddie’s glare towards him before turning back to talk to Steve who was checking him out with his jaw dropped and a frown in his eyebrows.
“Yeah, I’m having sex, where’s the shock in that?” But Steve’s eyes were still roaming him from head to toe, never having seen Eddie in this state.
“Oh nothing, is your partner a fucking bear?” Jeff snorted, making Eddie glare at him with everything in him.
“I asked the same shit man… But no, it is in fact a woman.” With that, Jeff grabs one of the food bags from Steve’s hands as Eddie rips one in anger, making Steve whistle just like Jeff had done minutes before.
“Does the woman identify as wolverine or some shit?” Steve finally laughed, but Eddie could sense the curiosity in his friend as a frown was still etched in his eyebrows. He was a bit nervous at the prospect of Steve interrogating him, but he could play it off as one of the many hookups he had. But– The problem was, Steve knows all about them. This is the first time he saw Eddie this way, all marked, bitten, completely ravished.
“I am just that good Steve. Want to try?” He jokingly asked and Steve scoffed, shaking his head as Jeff chuckled, closing the hood of the car and sitting on it, opening the bag on his lap. Eddie’s nose scrunched up, snapping his fingers at his friend. “Not in the client’s car.” “It’s going to get washed and polished either way.” Jeff retorted and Eddie rolled his eyes, not wanting to acknowledge that Steve’s eyes were still on him. He turned to his brown-haired friend, trying to gulp down the nerves.
“Thanks for bringing the food man.” He peeked inside the bag, mouth salivating as he saw the pastrami sandwich Jonathan makes at his bar. It’s delicious, one of Eddie’s favorites.
“Don’t mention it… Eddie–” Suddenly, the door opened once again and his eyes widened, heart stopping for a second. Soft heel sounds were heard and echoed through the whole shop, rustles of bags and– oh, fuck.
The moment the three men came into view, you stopped in your tracks.
Eddie could see the emotions running all over your body, your face frozen as you saw Steve staring at you, confused by your sudden presence, but Jeff wasn’t. He was used to you being here, not knowing what had been happening between you and Eddie. Eddie disguised it as you coming in to ask about your car, not to arrange when and where the two of you would fuck after work. Not at all.
“I– Hi.” Your voice was small and Eddie almost winced at it. His eyes roamed your body as you got closer, and it felt like his body turned a switch and something ignited inside of him. It was automatic. Every time he saw you, it was as if there was this predatory trait in him, something in you making him go feral, primal.
You were wearing that stupid ass office attire he dreamed of staining with his fluids mixed with yours, of maybe ripping a button or two. That grey skirt, grey blazer with that turquoise blouse peeking from inside, and those low heels that for some reason make him go insane. His eyes then fell to the three bags in your hand, his face trying to conceal a wince as he realized you had the same idea Steve had.
Your eyes were fixated on him, slowly roamed over his exposed body and arms, and he saw how your breathing hitched, how it lost its pace for a second, how your eyes darkened and your lips trembled slightly. He wanted to smile victoriously, but he would give himself away if he did… but as soon as that lustful look on your eyes appeared, he sensed the panic. Steve saw your marks. Jeff saw your marks.
“More food, fuck yeah.” Jeff interrupted and your eyes went towards him and then glanced at Eddie once, and– a sinking feeling came to his stomach. He didn’t like that look in your eyes. He saw how you turned to face Jeff once again, and you fucking smiled sweetly at him.
Oh, fuck no.
“Y-Yeah! I just… thought you guys might be hungry and I know all the work you guys have lately so–” And Eddie felt his jaw tense up. Steve though… his eyes were going between you and Jeff, and he was trying to conceal a smile.
“Well, Stevie here had the same idea.” Eddie’s voice was low, rough, and he had to force his mouth open to talk because if he hadn’t he would have spoken through his teeth. Your eyes went towards him and then all over his body. You had the nerve to scrunch your face in disgust, an eyebrow going up in question.
“Did you fall into a lion enclosure at the local zoo or what?” At that, Jeff and Steve snorted, looking away momentarily from the two of you. Eddie’s eyes were now on you, and he felt like he wanted to bend you over and show these two what he could do to you. Your mouth is being really brave right now when he can turn you into a stupid mess in the matter of seconds.
But he also understood how you two had to act. He understood what your idea was and you were being smart… Still, he glared at you, and he saw how you shivered underneath his gaze. His jaw clenched once before he gave a forced smile, a warning towards you.
“These just means I do a good job.” His eyes turn to Jeff. “You can’t say the same, huh?”
Your eyes widened as well as Steve’s. Jeff turned to look at Eddie, a frown appearing on his eyebrows in confusion at his friend’s anger towards him. He was about to open his mouth but Steve suddenly stepped in between, a fake smile on his lips as he looked at Eddie.
“Eds, let’s go to the office, I wanna talk to you about something.” Eddie saw how Steve gave a quick pointed look towards Jeff and yourself and– He wanted to punch someone. Why did you have to go and tell people you were fucking Jeff? Why not a random guy? Even if you were right, and they have bought into the idea that Eddie was yours and Jeff’s wingman, he did not see this confrontation coming.
“Y-Yeah! You two go talk, I’ll keep Jeff company!” Your voice was high-pitched and sweet, and with the act of being excited and Eddie wanted to choke you. Steve was buying your whole show and Jeff was plainly confused. Your eyes were on his brown ones and you gave a raise of eyebrows as if telling him to go with Steve, to follow your lead.
He sighed and nodded, but his blood temperature elevated when he saw Steve turn around and wink at you and Jeff before turning with Eddie and heading up to his office. It’s just an act. It’s something that was going to happen sooner or later. But now, Jeff will have to know, won’t he? There’s no way of covering that one up. His heart was hammering in his chest and it’s just this stupid sense of possession he has over you and–
He opened his office door, and walked inside to drop the bag on his desk, sitting on his chair with a huff, rubbing his hand over his face as Steve closed the door behind him, a smile still on his stupid face.
“Well, I think that our little lady is smitten.” He felt annoyed at those words as he walked over to his mini fridge, opening it to take two bottles of coke out, while Steve put the food bags on his table, already opening them to reveal the pastrami sandwiches he had gotten with fries. He let out the breath he was holding in his stomach, feeling it growl in hunger and the scent of food filled his nostrils, making him sit down immediately.
“What makes you say that?” He asked, intrigued even if irritated because… if he thought that of Jeff, then it meant that you would appear like that with him. You didn’t bring food or visit Jeff in particular. You came to do those things with him. Steve shrugged, sitting down on the seat in front of his desk, across from Eddie, as he started opening his sandwich.
“Coming to the shop just because?” That wasn’t a good enough reason for you to be smitten, wasn't it?
“It really doesn’t mean anything. She came to the shop before, many times.” Steve frowned at Eddie’s words, taking a fry into his mouth.
“Just to bring in food?” Fuck.
“Uh, yeah. We became good friends.” He hoped his voice didn’t give him away, though, it wasn’t entirely a lie. You didn’t show up just because, but this wasn’t the first time you brought food with you. Even if you came to the shop because of your car before, the having lunch together part is not entirely new.
“And it still baffles me.”
“Aw, you afraid she will take your place?” Eddie snickered and his best friend rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his sandwich as Eddie opened his own, licking his lips in anticipation as his stomach growled.
“As if. Does she know what I know?” Steve asked and Eddie stopped midway on taking his first bite. He closed his mouth and cleared his throat, a small shake of his head.
“No.” And just like that, Steve scoffed in victory and Eddie took his first big bite, moaning as he closed his eyes in delight. They kept eating for a minute in pure silence, and Eddie was grateful for that until Steve decided to be a fucking menace.
“So… Who is she?” “Huh?” Steve pointed to his shoulder blades with a fry pinched in between his fingers.
“Leopard girl. Wolverine. I don’t know, whoever the fuck it is.” Steve ate the fry and Eddie thought he wasn’t going to question it at all but he knew he was wrong in that. Eddie took another bite of his sandwich, taking his time to chew so he could think of something, making Steve roll his eyes at the theatrics.
“Um– Just… A friend of a client of mine.” He lied, trying to make this person as unknown as possible to make it seem like the actual woman he was fucking was not a few steps away from them.
“Explain?” “She came to fix her car after her friend recommended us to her.” Eddie took another bite of his sandwich as he felt the nerves making his heart beat into his chest, and he could hear the pumping of his own blood rushing in his ears as he saw how Steve was looking at him.
“And is she like… a recurrent hookup?” And Eddie pondered that question because… he just had to lie about who he was fucking, didn’t he? “Oh yeah. Not letting her go any time soon Steve.” And it felt good to tell someone about it. To tell someone about you without really saying it was you. Steve smiled as he leaned forward, putting his crossed arms on the desk as he gave Eddie his full attention.
“Well, I never thought I’d hear that from you.” Steve’s face was one of shock and amusement as he looked at his best friend. Eddie noticed, yet, nodded slowly as he took the last bite of his sandwich. His mind suddenly filled with your encounters, never more than a fuck, never less than just that.
“She… I– I enjoy sex with her. I enjoy it very much, Steve. For the first time ever I feel entirely satisfied with someone.” Eddie wasn’t looking into his friend’s eyes, just picking into his fries as his mind was elsewhere. Steve’s eyes were wide, staring at Eddie in shock, amusement, and some worry etched within.
“That’s certainly something I never heard from you, Eds… What makes her different from the rest?” Eddie took a fry into his mouth as he thought, a wave of something he doesn’t know how to identify rushing over him as your face popped up in his head.
“I mean, we started as friends, you know… Just messaging eachother, and then one day it just happened… She–” He felt his cheeks flush completely and Steve’s face was one of understanding, looking down at Eddie’s fidgeting fingers.
“Not the usual… size troubles, I assume?” And Eddie slowly shook his head, making Steve even more intrigued. He got nervous for his best friend, his thumb going to his mouth to bite onto the edge of it as he thought. Eddie’s eyes found Steve’s gaze moved somewhere else, making him frown.
“What is it?” “I mean, Eds… You sound kind of serious with this girl.”
What? “Huh? No. I assure you, it’s nothing serious, Steve. We–” Did he? Did he sound serious about you? No, absolutely no. He has never sounded serious about anyone before. It just sounds like it because it is the first time he has been with the same hook up for so long.
“You never talk to me about your affairs. I mean, sure you told me about some chicks you slept with, but they were always complaints… This one is–”
And Eddie realized he had never talked about a single good moment he had with a woman before with Steve. He had them, he sure has, but never in the extent he had them with you. You felt like nothing ever before, and that didn’t make you serious, it just made you– special. Just that.
“I know, but I promise you, it’s nothing like that. It’s just sex.” He felt his words choking him up slightly, but he cleared his throat, trying to take the lump he got away. Steve’s eyes found his and then went down towards Eddie’s body.
“It’s just… you letting her do that means you aren’t sleeping with anyone else but her, isn’t it?” Oh he got busted. Eddie bit his bottom lip as he felt his stomach closing in on him, not knowing why Steve was making a big deal out of him sleeping with just one person.
“Am I that promiscuous?” He tried to play it off as a joke, but his best friend sighed, shaking his head.
“Eddie, I never heard you talk about a woman before, much less see you only sleeping with one and just one. Are you two exclusive?”
“What?” “Are you exclusive to eachother?” And that conversation was something that never happened between the two of you again. He hadn’t slept with anyone but you, he never told you it, and probably never will, but it was because he was satisfied with you. You met his needs and that was the deal of it… but he wondered if it was the same for you. He wondered if you slept with others but him. He wondered if he was the only one.
But no. Exclusivity means that the relationship is heading to a more serious tone and Eddie does not want that. You surely don’t want that. He won’t talk about this to you anytime soon, yet, answering the question to Steve felt like he was being punctured by needles in the tip of his tongue.
“No. We are not.” That tasted like piss in his fucking mouth. Why? You two are not exclusive, and probably never will be. That tasted even worse in his mind.
“It’s just– You gotta tell her if–”
“We are not exclusive and we will never be a couple. Drop it, Steve.” At his sharp words, Steve’s eyebrows met in the middle in a frown.
“That’s because you avoid it! Eddie, I’m sure someone out there doesn’t care about your condition! This is the first time I hear you talk about a girl this way and you are letting her go–”
“I am not letting her go! I have no one to let go of because we are just fucking, Harrington! Fucking! I’m so sorry I don’t have the perfect love story you and Johnny had, or Nance and Robin. Hell, even Argyle and Eden!” He was angry now, he didn’t want to be but talking about this matter just made him become infuriated at his friend. Why did he make such a big deal out of this? Why question him about his decisions?
“Perfect!? I had to endure watching Johnny flirt for about a year until he decided we were more than friends with benefits.” And Eddie remembered that distinctively. Steve crying on his shoulder after he saw Jonathan flirt with someone… even with you. After the night they met you, and Jonathan asked you out, he went to his home with Robin, consoling him. Another reason for his stupid hatred towards you when you didn’t know Steve at the time. You didn’t know Steve was in love with Jonathan, much less they were sleeping together.
Eddie’s jaw clenched as he looked away, trying to avoid his best friend’s gaze. He knew all of his friends had their hardships with their relationships, but it didn’t mean his would be more than just a fuck buddy system thing. It doesn't mean that you two will become a couple. He can’t do that. He knows a relationship with him means that it will meet an impending doom at one point or the other. He was meant to fail.
“It’s not going to turn serious. It can’t.” Eddie’s voice was small, and Steve’s demeanor softened, a low sigh escaping him as he looked at his best friend with a pitiful look in his eyes.
“You are insufferable. You know that?” Eddie chuckled and looked up to see Steve smiling at him.
“You told me once or twice.” Steve nodded once as he started throwing all the wrappings into one of the food bags he brought.
“You think they’re fucking? Should I stay a bit longer up here?” “Huh?” Eddie was confused until Steve smirked and nodded towards the door. The long-haired man wanted to crack his neck from the sudden annoyance that washed over him.
“No, Jeff knows that he should not do that at work. I’d have to fire him.” Eddie said as he got up from his chair, his heart beating in his chest with something he couldn’t pinpoint what. It was a feeling of nervousness, or of anticipation, or worry as he got closer to the door. He heard Steve getting up to follow him as he opened the door and–
He stopped.
You giggled as your hand rubbed Jeff’s cheek while he sat on the hood of the car he fixed. You were in between his legs, his hands were on your waist and to your hips as you two giggled with eachother, intimately. Steve stood next to Eddie, smirking, looking down at how you looked radiant once again after a few months of not doing so after your break up. As if remembering what Eddie had told him, he cleared his throat loudly.
Jeff’s eyes looked up the stairs, wincing as he ripped his hands away from you, making you gasp as you pulled away, acting ashamed as you looked down at the floor and fixed your blazer. Steve elbowed Eddie a few times before starting to head down, not noticing the state his best friend was in.
Eddie’s chest was rumbling.
He was seeing red. He wanted to rip Jeff’s head off and then claim you in front of him, even in front of Steve. He wanted nothing more than to show off how dumb he could get you. How sweaty and how desperate you looked when you were underneath him. It was something he hadn’t anticipated and the fact was, he didn’t know if it’s a plan or not from you and Jeff. He knows it is, but his brain, his very own self is making him think Jeff is taking you from him.
But this was the reality he was in. He couldn’t do what he wanted to do with you, not in front of them. They didn’t know you two were an item. He has to remind himself of that part, of that little detail in order not to lose you. If he fucks up, and you decide to cut everything off, he doesn’t know how he could cope with the need you fill. The need you satisfy, and for now, it is you only.
He slowly walked down the stairs while Jeff smirked your way and then looked around as if shy, only making him get angrier, but he has to fucking calm down. He started feeling how his palms started sweating the more you did googly eyes at his friend, and Steve was eating that shit up. He heard Steve clear his throat as Eddie stood next to him, his eyes never leaving your face.
“I think I’m leaving now. I’m supposing you’re… staying a bit longer?” His question was directed your way, which you fidgeted in your place, looking at Eddie for one second, and he knew you felt his anger, or his displeasure. He knew you felt it because he saw how you straightened up for a second, to then realize you were looking his way too much, and then you turned towards Jeff.
“Um… If the boss lets me.” You said innocently, this time, your eyes still glued to Jeff, who then looked at Eddie. The metalhead’s hands clenched as his glare was directed to his friend now.
“I was about to have lunch anyways… right?” Jeff asked and Eddie wanted to rip his head off. But you weren’t leaving. No. He had to talk with you privately about this stupid show you just did. So, Eddie faked a grin, nodding at his friend and then turned to you. Your eyes were worried as you looked at him.
“Of course, Peach can stay.” He felt a pat on his shoulder as if saying ‘Good job’. He didn’t turn to face Steve, his eyes still glued on yours, the fake grin still plastered on his lips.
“Well, I gotta go help Jon so… I’ll talk to you guys later, okay?” His best friend bid his goodbye and he knew he winked at you because your eyes followed Steve, and you rolled your eyes at him as he left. The moment the door closed, Eddie’s grin fell, his jaw clenching tightly as your eyes found his, filled with nerves and uncertainty.
“I um…–”
“I knew you two were fucking, jesus fucking christ.” Your eyes widened, and you turned your head to look at Jeff but Eddie’s anger elevated yet it also calmed down slightly, knowing that Jeff knew about you two made you now untouchable, at least to his friend.
“You told him?” Eddie asked and your eyes found him again and now they were angry as your jaw clenched. He tilted his head in question only to then hear laughter from his friend. Eddie sighed as he ran a hand over his face, knowing he was the one who fucked up.
“I didn’t. You just fucking did.” Your voice was coming through gritted teeth and Eddie glared down at you, and he felt a hand on his right shoulder. He turned to look at it, and seeing Jeff’s hand made him remember how it was on your waist minutes before. He licked into his bottom lip, turning to look at his friend.
“She didn’t, but I had my suspicions when she told me to act as if we were hooking up just now.” Jeff talked, sitting back on the hood of the car as he opened his bag of food. Eddie’s nostrils flared as he heard you sigh, making him look back at you.
“We had to do this sooner or later… or at least I had to. It was going to happen at one point that everyone would be in the same room–”
“So this means, that if we are in the same room with everyone else, you two will act all lovey-dovey like just now?” His words seemed to take you aback because your eyebrows met in the middle as you looked at him as if he had gone insane.
“Well, not lovey-dovey, but we gotta pretend Eddie.” Your words were sharp, while you crossed your arms over your damned chest, making his eyes gaze at it then back at your eyes, and then at his friend who sighed as he unwrapped his sandwich.
“Look, I can help, but– I have a relationship too, and it’s becoming serious and I don’t want it fucked over because of this.” Jeff clarified and that made you sigh, making Eddie look back at you as he felt his belly burn in the pits of hell for some reason.
“I promise it– I don’t know for how long but… it’s just so no one gets suspicious if we are at the same place and they don’t see us interacting at all…” Eddie rolled his eyes as he held back a displeased groan. He did not like those words coming out of your mouth. It sounded as if you were already putting an end to you both, and while his head started reeling, he failed to notice how his friend was looking at him.
“Well… Why not let them know? It’s… just fucking right?” Jeff’s words made Eddie’s head snap towards him, and their eyes locked for a second before you interrupted.
“Yeah but… it might cause issues in the group, just– It’s better this way.” You replied and Eddie’s jaw clenched tightly as he looked at the floor. Jeff shifted in the hood of the car, a smirk appearing on his face as he turned towards you.
“Then, it will be a pleasure to be your fake fuck buddy for as long as you need, sweet thing.”
“Can you go have lunch somewhere else, Jeff?”
Eddie’s voice was sharp, rough, and filled with something that sent the other two people in the room shivers down their whole bodies, goosebumps pricking on their skin. Your eyes were locked on Eddie, and he knew you sensed something was going on. His fists were clenched as he kept his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes still directed towards the floor.
“I still have work–”
“I will finish it, take the rest of the day off.”
“But–”
“I’m your boss, do as I fucking say.”
Silence.
Jeff slowly got off the hood of the car, and Eddie saw how he gave you one last look. Your eyes followed Jeff’s figure as he grabbed his things that were on the desk near the front door. Eddie cracked his neck as he heard the door finally shut, leaving the two of you alone in the shop. Your neck turned quickly, eyes filled with fire as you frowned in complete confusion and worry.
“Why did you treat him like that? He–” He didn’t even let you finish. He turned around and walked towards the stairs, going up towards his office and he knew you were going to follow. He would have smirked when he heard your soft heels against the stairs if it weren’t for the fact he felt himself as if he wanted to rip a wall open with his own fists. He walked towards his mini fridge, taking two beers out as he heard the door of his office close.
“Here.” He put a beer on the desk as he popped the other one open with his bare teeth, taking a gulp out of it. The coldness of it not helping at all with the burning in his stomach, the heat all over his body.
“I have to head back to work, I can’t fucking drink– What the hell was that down there!?” Your voice was loud, now knowing the two of you were alone. His gaze fell on you, eyes scanning you from head to toe. That fucking office outfit–
“Don’t do that shit in my shop.” Your mouth fell in a big O, in complete disbelief and he knows he sounds crazy. He knows he sounds… weird, but he can’t help it. He really can’t help himself.
“I had to think fast! If I didn’t appear close to Jeff then Steve would grow suspicious! In his head, and Robin’s, and in everyone else’s, Jeff and I have been fucking for the past month and YOU were our wingman.” Oh, he took a long sip of his beer at that, because rationally, it made sense. Rationally, it was a good plan because Steve left content and, probably, with the intention of telling Robin about it, who will tell Nancy, and so on. It was a good plan.
But it doesn’t mean he liked it just because it's good.
“Did you think of Jeff’s relationship at all?” He was using something else to disguise his anger, and it was pitiful, it was pathetic, but what is he supposed to tell you? That he wants to scrub away Jeff’s hand prints off your waist? For what reason? With what motive other than his possessiveness?
“He said it was okay! His girlfriend is not part of your job group or ours, so we are fine!”
“And what about a club, huh? What if Steve decided to start inviting Jeff over for our outings? He thinks you are smitten, like romantically involved with Jeff.” You fell silent at that. He felt his heart beating in his chest, his ears ringing with something he could not fully describe. There was this feeling of hope, or need inside of him that he could not figure out what it was.
“Smitten? I– Why would I appear smitten?” It seemed his words got to you, because you walked towards the desk to grab the beer he left there, and you popped it open by smashing it against the edge of his desk, followed by a big gulp. The room grew tense, he felt it. He saw your body language, the nerves that suddenly invaded you, and he wondered if it was because of the situation, or rather something else.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because instead of doing some flirty googly eyes, you were smiling at him, caressing his cheek like a lovesick idiot, while he held your waist?” His voice was sharp, the edge of it as sharp as an ancient katana. He saw how thrown aback you looked, how confused that made you and he wanted to just erase that frown, wanting to replace it with your mouth in the shape of an ‘o’ as your eyes teared up thanks to him.
“It– It wasn’t that big of a deal! I thought it was a convincing action and the hand on my waist was not premeditated.” At your words, Eddie’s eyes widened a bit, his jaw clenching tightly as he realized it was Jeff’s fucking improvisation. He touched you, and not because you told him to.
And how many were there like that? How many were like Jeff when he didn’t see you? When he didn’t meet you? How many were touching your waist, your thighs, your arms, your face, when he told you he was too busy? Or when you two simply didn’t contact eachother for that sole reason? Does he have a right to ask?
But why the fuck does he care?
He has all the right to do the same. He shouldn’t be bothered by this but– He blames who he is. He blames this stupid thing he has to live with because if not, he cannot explain what is happening or why he feels this way. So possessive of you, so protective and like he wants to eat you whole the entire time you two are together, even if it’s just minutes.
Yet the present was something he was focusing on, and that was, his friend is taking all the merit for what Eddie does to you. He didn’t like that. Not one bit. He knows you told Robin because the girl always joked about inviting Jeff to the get togethers, making you and him have a panicked exchange of looks, only for Robin to always laugh it off, that she would never overstep over your boundaries like that. Not when you weren’t ready.
But ready for what? He never got an answer.
“Yeah, good job tho! Your little act worked.” His voice was dripping with disgust, no sarcasm because it was the truth. Steve had bought into your show, and Eddie should be happy, glad and relieved it did… yet he started thinking that maybe it would not be so bad to tell the group about the two of you. You two are adults. They also fucked with eachother before becoming romantically involved–
Ah, he sees why he cannot tell the group. He sees why the two of you are hidden. The others didn’t hide it because they liked one another, romantically, and the sole purpose was to, in the end, get together. That was not the end with you. That would never be the end with you.
“And who did you tell Steve you’re fucking, huh?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, taking a sip of your bottle, to then wave it towards his naked torso. He almost forgot he was not wearing a shirt still, looking down at his chest, the marks of your nails still there as well as on his stomach.
“A friend of a client. A random non-existent person.” He replied with a flare of his nostrils and his eye clashed with yours, a scoff leaving your lips, shaking your head at him.
“Don’t start this shit again. It wasn’t the smartest decision when it came out of my mouth, but it was for this whole month our ticket to leave with one another without raising any suspicions! If it were a random person, why the fuck would you take me to their house all the time?” You took a long sip of your beer and Eddie’s fists clenched as his chest started burning, rumbling, like a fucking earthquake.
“Another client of mine.” He suggested, his eyes moving from your neck to the first buttons of your blouse. You didn’t notice him, still drinking your beer as you chuckled with almost no humor in your voice.
“Right, as if that weren’t suspicious at fucking all. What’s your problem, Munson?” You asked him, and he wondered if telling you would be wise, but tell you what exactly? He took a few steps towards you, seeing how your body stiffened as you stared at him, waiting for a response.
“I don’t have a problem. It’s just… Jeff being the one to take the credit for how fucking dumb you get when I fuck into you it’s almost funny.” Your mouth fell open at his words, huffing at him as you put the beer on top of the mini fridge, crossing your arms over your chest as you faced him.
“Me? Dumb? Should I remind you Munson who whimpered stupidly just because he got his balls sucked on?” You were playing a very dangerous game with him right now. This was not going to end in civil terms. Your perfume was invading him, your smell, just you. You were contaminating his entire space and he was growing a little dizzy thanks to it. His jaw clenched as he took another step your way, his gaze hard as you stood your ground.
“Baby, someone who gets drool and tears running down their face as she gets fucked into a mattress, should not play this game.” He could fucking feel you. He knew how much you wanted him right now, how aroused you were. He saw you shift in your place as you scanned his body, a cocky grin appearing in your face as you looked up at him.
“No one knows that… But you, everyone, will now know what I do to you, without them knowing it was me.” His jaw clenched as he felt the tip of your fingers running over your nail scratches, your bites on his shoulders, your hickies on his collarbone. Steve saw it all, and Eddie confessed to feeling incredible with you. Steve will tell Robin and Jonathan.
“Yes. They will think that a random chick did this. Not you.” Your smile fell at his words, and he knew he hit your ego, but he was not ready for your response. He was not ready for the turn of events against him.
“And whatever you do to me, they will think Jeff did it. Not you.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He felt his arms shaking. He felt fire just running through his entire system and he didn’t know how to take it, how to tame it, or what it meant. This is not normal, yet he knows it isn’t new. His teeth clenched against eachother, and all he wanted now… all he needed… is to fucking show you that no matter what you say, it was still him. Everything was done by him. Every single thing you felt was thanks to him.
“You know Peach… I always liked this attire of yours.” He mentioned, putting the beer on top of the mini-fridge as he walked towards you, your head tilting to the side as if you were stupid when he knew you weren’t.
“What does that mean?” And he walked behind you, his left hand grazing your shoulder to then slowly wrap it around your neck, not even pressing into it, and he dipped his head low to whisper in your right ear.
“That I’ve always wanted to lift that skirt up and fuck into you until you forgot about work altogether.” He heard your breath stuttering, a small gasp leaving your lips as you felt him press his body against your back, his voice hoarse into your eardrum. “Think about it, a quick fuck before you leave…”
“Y-You’re crazy if you think I will let you ruin my suit.” You turned your head to look at him as he held you close, his head over your shoulder to look down at you. Your pupils were dilated, probably as much as his were. Your words died in your tongue completely as he saw you made no move to get away from his grasp.
And a smirk was displayed on his lips.
Not even ten minutes later, you two were in the same position, standing next to his desk, but your legs were spread, your panties down to your mid-thighs as your tube skirt was unzipped and pulled up, bunching up over your hips. His hands were grabbing onto your bent elbows for leverage as his knees were slightly bent in order to reach you. In order to be able to rail into you the way he was doing.
His pants and boxers bunched up on his feet, the open foil of a condom right next to them on the floor. Your head was thrown backwards as the sound of skin slapping over and over filled his entire office. He looked down to see his cock going in and out of your wet cunt, all the way, and almost all the way out. Repeating that motion in quick movements, deliberated.
You were on your tippy toes, with your heels still on, in order to lift your ass to him as much as you could, arching your back so he had more access. He looked at how you jiggled against his movements, your moans coming out of your mouth with no restraint, knowing the two of you were completely alone now… or at least he hoped Steve didn’t decide to come back for something.
But for some reason, he would love that. He would love it for Steve to know it was never Jeff. For Steve to know just how good you two make eachother feel. For Steve to know that it’s you the one who marked him up. For Steve to know, and to tell everyone, that your disheveled hair, and the marks on your body, the ones he will surely leave now, were made by him.
He kept pounding into you, his grip on your arms tightening, his knuckles turning white as he groaned when he felt you fluttering all around him, just like you always did. Everytime he hit your g-spot, you fluttered. That’s how he knew he found it. And well, there’s also your moans–
“Eddie– Eddie– fuck!” He smirked in victory as he angled himself and pulled you into him, keeping himself seated against you after each hard thrust. Deep and brutal, knocking the breath out of your lungs, choking on your voice. He growled each time he felt his tip just hitting you in your deepest parts. The warmth all around him. The sound of your whimpers and cries in his ears.
“Yeah, keep screaming my name, Peach.” He began to roughly fuck into you again, using you like a fucktoy, but that’s just because– His eyes diverted towards your waist, the image of Jeff’s hands on there, making him groan in anger, not wanting to think about that now. He is fucking into you, not touching you lightly just like Jeff did. He wins in this equation, doesn’t he?
He could hear the squelching of your juices with his thrusts, and he could feel the wetness all over his pelvis, his pubic hair, proof of how you were feeling with him, how you always felt with him and him only.
But his eyes fucking went to your waist again.
He growled as he pulled out of you, making your knees tremble, your feet hitting the ground again and he noticed how weak your legs were. You whined in question, wondering why he stopped filling you the way he was. He made you turn around and take two steps back, slowly moving his feet with his pants and boxers still tangled around his ankles, trying not to trip on these two steps in order to follow you.
He gripped your waist, his fingers burning, hoping that they somehow would brand their digits there and create a barrier so that no one– Fuck, no. No. He lifted you up on the desk, taking your panties off completely, and he threw them over his shoulder as he spread your legs so he could nestle between them.
You were breathing heavily, your blouse open, chest out with your bralette showing. Your blazer was still on, still buttoned, and it was just fucking delectable. You were holding yourself up with your hands behind you and on the desk. His face immediately leaned forward, capturing your lips in a strong kiss. He hadn’t kissed you since you entered his shop.
It was something he couldn’t really go without in the night or in every encounter you two had. He had stolen kisses from you in Steve and Robin’s kitchen. You had trapped him in Nancy’s apartment and kissed him senselessly. He had pulled you out of view in the club and under some stairs in order to rub himself against you, kiss you stupid, before letting you return to everyone and keep dancing.
You couldn’t not kiss eachother every time you saw one another.
You moaned into the kiss, his hands going to hold your neck, both of them wrapping around it, his fingers overlapping onto one another in the back of your head, his thumbs hooked underneath your jaw. His tongue instantly invaded your mouth, a place that was its second home by now. If not in his mouth, it was in yours, dancing with your tongue, making a mess out of eachother.
He went blind with it, thrusting his hips forward and luck was on his side when in two movements where the tip of his cock kissed your clit twice, the third time it caught on your slicked entrance. He huffed a laugh into the kiss with satisfaction as his hips pressed on, his dick disappearing once more inside of you. You stopped kissing him, yet you didn’t separate from him as you moaned into the kiss.
He moaned your name into your mouth followed by a curse as he felt you engulf him once more. It will always be a new sensation, never fully sitting with him how he is going to go on without it once you decide to put an end to it, or in the crazy event, for him to be the one to do it.
He pulled away from the kiss, his hand moving to press onto your chest, pushing you just slightly for you to get the hint. You let yourself fall backwards, glad that there was nothing on the desk that could be in the way, and if there were a few papers of clients underneath you, so what? He has the copies in a computer.
He grabbed the back of your right knee, giving a kiss on your calf as he pulled your leg on his shoulder. He repeated the process with your other leg and his hands grabbed onto your waist, his fingertips digging into your skin as if he were holding onto you afraid you would slip away from him. But it was because he wanted to mark you there. Particularly there.
He immediately started railing into you once again, the coil in his belly turning as he saw your mouth falling open, those eyes filling with tears of pleasure as his name tumbles out of your lips like a prayer. You bounced against his thrusts, the sight of your disheveled office attire making his mind short circuit as he felt himself burn. The outfit he wanted to ruin from the very first moment he realized he wanted to rip it off from you. He hoped you couldn’t put it back as perfect as it was before. He wished for people in your office to notice you were just fucked by someone. He wished people knew you were fucked stupid by him, only him.
“Look at you… yeah, I’m the only one that can make you feel like this Peach.” He said it with confidence because he knew he was. He has to be. If he weren’t you would have gotten tired of him by now, right? But he wanted you to say it, no, he needed you to say it. He needed you to admit he is the only one. “Say it.”
“Mhmm–” You couldn’t even pronounce a word from what he could see, but he was going to make you talk. He growled as he started to pull you to him each time he thrusted back into you, making his movements go deeper, and making them punch the air and soul out of you. His cock twitched inside of you at each tiny gasp you let out thanks to what he was doing to you.
“Come on, use words. I know you are a little cock drunk right now, but I’m sure you can manage this– Fuck–” He cursed when he felt your pussy fluttering and clenching around him, and that never gets old for him. All tight around the base, making him see stars. You were close, he was close, but he needed this. “Peach, I’m not letting you cum until–”
“You! Just you Eds– Fuck, just you–” You were breathing heavy, moans escaping you in between, and he groaned in pleasure at your words, relief washing over him and he didn’t know why. He just felt a little lighter than before. He decided to believe your words because who knows if you’re lying or not, but for some reason he knows you aren’t. He knows you are telling the truth. He is the only one who can make you feel like this, and hopefully, that makes him the only one you’re fucking for now.
“You make me feel good too Peach, perfect every time.” You moaned loudly at that, and he assumed it was because you liked what he said, he could feel your delight at his words. He felt his lower abdomen tighten, signaling how close he was getting, making him hiss. His right hand left your waist in order to wrap his arm around your thigh, his hand reaching your clit, fingers pressing onto it and immediately rubbing in circles to help you achieve your orgasm.
Your back arched from the desk as your hands grabbed onto the edges of it, your moans becoming whimpers and cries as he kept pistoning inside of you while rubbing onto your clit, feeling your walls tremble and flutter around him.
“God– Baby– I’m–” The pet name slipped out of your mouth and it always drove Eddie to the edge. You never used them outside of sex, so this made them special. Eddie was panting through his moans as he kept his pace even if he felt his hips wanting to stutter, his climax right around the corner.
“I know sweetheart, I know, I can feel it. Come on–” And he growled, groaned, and moaned your name loudly when you clenched around him like a vice, tightly. His cock was engulfed completely by you, being sucked in as your back arched, your moans loud cries of his name as he kept circling your clit with his fingers, unable to move from how hard you were clenching around him.
He looked at how twisted in pleasure your face was, your body trembling and twitching as you rode your orgasm out. The sight before him was insanely perfect, hot, just a mix of everything that is good. You looked so beautiful when you were in complete pleasure, you looked… ethereal—made for him. Each fucking time.
“Eddie–!” And his name in your mouth in the middle of your orgasm was enough to make the elastic band snap for him, his abdomen finally feeling like it explodes as his body tightens, tenses up, and he finishes inside the condom, filling it to the brim as he always does. Spurt after spurt. He moaned loudly, his hips stilling deeply inside of you, twitching at every shot of his cum.
He felt his body drenched in sweat, and he was left breathless, panting, putting your legs down and slamming his hands on the desk, caging you in between him and the hardwood. Your eyes were closed as you tried to catch your breath, your chest moving up and down, his eyes going over your bare collarbones, your dark lace bralette still in full view for him. He looked at the skin on your neck, now seeing the mark of his hands, then a bite he gave you on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He marked you like you marked him.
“So much for not messing this little suit of yours, huh.” He said and that’s when your eyes opened, your head snapping to look at the clock that hung at the top of the door, quickly sitting up, making him pull away and out of you, the both of you groaning at the sensation of it. He quickly pulled his pants and boxers up, his eyes never leaving your form as you quickly buttoned your blouse back to place.
“Fuck, I have a meeting in ten fucking minutes!” You yelled and he could only chuckle, and he saw a smudge of your lipstick on the side of your face. He wanted to dart his thumb out, needing to wipe it off from you so you could be presentable, but that gesture was too intimate, wasn’t it?
“You didn’t mention that to me, can’t blame me for it.” He licked his lips cockily as you glared at him, jumping down from the desk, pulling your skirt down and zipping it on the back again. Your eyes looked around, frowning your eyebrows which made him tilt his head in question.
“Where’s my underwear?”
“Oh, I have no clue. I threw it over my shoulder–”
“This is the third one! I am losing the underwear that goes with my bras! I have to wear mismatched colors!” Eddie rolled his eyes at that, but he couldn’t help it, you looked kind of adorable when you cared for stuff like this.
“I am the only one that sees them anyways, so why does it matter?” At his words, your head turned to look at him.
“Who says you’re the only one? Don’t act cocky.” And he flared his nostrils, looking at you, studying you, doing the one thing he never cared of doing before meeting you because he believed he was invading people’s privacy with it.
“I know you’re lying now.” You turned your head to face him again, a puzzled look on your face, and also, surprised. Before you could talk, he opened his mouth again. “You will have to go commando for now, Peach. I’ll try to find your underwear.”
“Yeah, sure, you’re probably going to keep it and sniff it like a pervert.” At your words, his eyes widened in surprise, and he started sniffing as if he were a dog. Loud and invading your space, making you snort out a giggle as you tried to swat him away like a fly. “I said like a pervert, not a cute angelic being!”
“Dogs are angelic beings? I once saw a man getting his dick bitten off by a rottweiler–” You winced at that and this is what it was being with you. He was a horny teenager ten seconds ago, and now you two are laughing as if… nothing happened. It was the perfect scenario.
“Goodbye Munson, find my underwear! All of them! And no more hickies! I need to wear blouses and, unlike you, I meet with important business people almost everyday.” You said, fixing your skirt again, and then your hair. You’re probably going to notice the smudge of lipstick in the car.
“I meet important people too! You think that everyone owns a Ferrari sweetheart?” You stared at him for a few seconds and then you nodded, frowning your lips downwards with a nod.
“Good point.” You walked towards the door, opening it, ready to head out and this was one of the parts Eddie did not particularly like.
“Talk to you later, fuck buddy.” You flipped him off over your shoulder, closing the door behind you and he was left in the silence of his room, a huge contrast to what was happening ten minutes ago.
It was a perfect scenario for sure… but that didn’t mean he liked it.
He didn’t know why, or what, but he didn’t want to be like he is with his other hookups, or rather was. You are a friend, and you two share something special unlike some random situationship. You two greet eachother normally, never with a kiss, and then when you bid your goodbyes… this was it.
A funny exchange of words, and then it’s him or you leaving out the door. He stayed over and you stayed over, yet, never once you two had morning sex. Rarely had breakfast together. He understood it, and he accepted it because, you two are nothing more than just friends who fuck… constantly fuck, and will never be, and he knew it and he accepted it.
You also got out of a relationship, and most likely did not want another one at all, much less with someone like him. He decided to keep it this way. The waves from afar when saying goodbye, and no intimate gestures right after waking up. He took a deep breath in as he looked to his side, spotting your underwear underneath the metal archive drawers. He walked over and picked it up, looking down at it on his palm.
His gut turned with uncertainty as he looked at his door. He knew why he was angry before now that his mind is a little clearer. Right after having you. Right after you admitted what he needed to hear at that moment. He doesn’t want to say it or think on it, and maybe he shouldn’t. He wasn’t angry because of the whole plan. Sure he was being possessive but that’s just because of his nature and who he is, but it was more than that.
It was way more than what he dared to admit.
Because sure, Jeff had his hands on your waist…
But you never caressed his cheek the way you did to his friend.
end of chapter 20
<- Prev. chapter- Next chapter ->
Taglist is closed! I will start deleting people that do not interact with my posts.
Taglist: @katethetankk @seatnights @notwantingtoadult
@babez-a-licious @mrsjellymunson @notwantingtoadult @xxladymjxx
@sarcastically-defensive17 @ghost-proofbaby
@take-everything-you-can @nope-thanks @eddiesxangel @andvys
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fics#eddie munson smut#stranger things#fanfiction#eddie munson ff#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#omegaverse#alpha omega#alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader#alpha eddie munson#alpha beta omega#abo#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson stranger things#eddie x you#eddie x y/n#eddiemunson#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x reader#eddie x female reader#slow burn#smut#enemies to lovers#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff
126 notes
·
View notes