#steve’s also confusing because we don’t know much about him

[boysborntodie]

Wondering what Johnny’s MBTI is….

[gothcsz]

Motive | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 3 of Unscripted Desire | ~10k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Another chaotic shoot... but at least it's in Malibu?

Tags: more plot keeps sneaking into the porn, angst, frankie has entered the villa, jealous!javi, reader stands on business, it's a porn set other people are also fucking, masturbation on camera (m), dirty talk, lots of cursing (f bombs my beloved), an attempt at a blowjob, javier can't get it up, a dash of misogyny, author projects her ooc thoughts about problematic age gaps in the porn industry, no use of y/n, reader has a degree in film production, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: me nervous that part 3 isn't going to live up to the hype? more likely than you think! 🙂‍↕️ this fic is taking on a brain of its own and i'm just along for the ride, baby! for my just the tip stans— i'm sorry but i'm going to have to edge you until part 4 *crowd boos and i'm dragged off stage* i was going to wait to post this, but i really wanted to get it out because i'm so damn proud of it lowkey, lol, so i hope you all like it 🖤 let a bitch know what ya think! also, shoutout to my pookie @persephone-girl for reading over this 💋 love u mamas

Your phone’s shrill ring pierces through the haze of sleep, and you groan in frustration, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

The comforter is pulled tight over your head, shielding you from the annoyingly bright sunlight filtering through your window. Your hand shoots out, fumbling blindly across the bedside table until your fingers finally close around the receiver. 

“What?” you grumble, voice thick with sleep and muffled beneath your sheets.

“There she is! My beautiful, talented camerawoman. Have I ever told you how much I appreciate what you do?” Robbie’s overly cheerful voice blares through the phone, so you pull it back from your ear slightly, wincing.

“Why are you calling me this early in the morning?” you snap, already regretting picking up.

“Early? It’s almost noon—”

“What do you want, Robbie?” You cut him off, not in the mood for small talk, especially since last night’s bar shift ran past four in the morning. You were hoping to sleep through most of the day, recovering in your bed with no interruptions. Clearly, that plan has gone out the window.

“Look, I’ve got a big shoot happening in Malibu today and I’m short-staffed. I could really use your magic touch behind the camera.”

“No.”

 “C’mon,” he drags the word out, “I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for working on your day off.”

You rub your eyes, the remnants of sleep still clinging to you. “How much?”

He tosses out a number, and despite your best effort to remain indifferent, your eyes widen. Damn. That’s more than decent money.

“Malibu’s all the way across town,” you point out, “I won’t make it there in time if I take the bus. And a taxi? That’ll cost me a fortune.”

“Don’t worry about that. Your ride’s outside waiting for you.”

You blink, confused, and get out of bed, dragging the corded phone with you as you move toward the bay window. You pull the curtain back just enough to peer down at the busy street below.

Sure enough, Steve is there, leaning casually against his Jeep with sunglasses on, a cigarette between his lips. The second he spots you looking down, he grins like the cheshire cat and waves.

“Seriously?” you mutter to Robbie, flipping Steve off with a half-hearted smile. “And what if I’d said no?”

“We both know you wouldn’t have.”

After a few more quick exchanges, you hang up, glancing once more at your ride through the window before turning to rush and get yourself ready for the day ahead.

Truth be told, you’re still not fully awake, your body moving on autopilot as you shuffle through your morning (midday) routine.

It’s been ages since you’ve been to the beach— especially one as nice as Malibu’s. The thought of it softens the blow of losing your rest day. You tell yourself you’ll make the best of it, turning this unexpected workday into something that benefits you, too.

After shooting wraps, you’ll indulge in a quiet evening by the shore, sinking your toes into the warm sand with a good book in hand. No rush to head back. This time, you’ll gladly take a taxi if it means getting some peace seaside.

With that plan in mind, you dress for the day accordingly. Your halter-style bathing suit doubles as a cute top, the color complimenting your skin, while your favorite denim shorts sit comfortably over your bikini bottoms.

You pack a few essentials into your beach bag and make sure to grab your camera bag as well. Once you’ve double-checked that everything’s packed, you make your way downstairs, feeling a bit more awake now.

Steve catches sight of you approaching and flashes a dramatic grin, straightening up like he’s about to chauffeur royalty.

“Your chariot awaits,” he announces with an exaggerated flourish, swinging the passenger door open.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the bemused laugh that escapes your lips. “God, you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, shaking your head as you climb into the seat, tossing your beach bag onto the floor.

He shuts the door behind you with a smirk. “Ridiculous? I prefer charmingly dedicated to my craft.” He hops into the driver’s side, flicking the cigarette away before starting the car.

You snort at his self-satisfaction, leaning back against the seat and putting on the seatbelt. 

“Malibu, huh? How the fuck did he manage to swing that?”

He chuckles, one hand lazily draped over the wheel, the other tapping out a rhythm on his knee. “He didn’t tell me much either— just asked me to stop by and pick you up on my way.”

That makes sense. Robbie’s always been a bit scatterbrained, occasionally running around like he’s managing a multi-million-dollar empire when, in reality, he’s holding it together with duct tape and half-assed enthusiasm.

The drive is surprisingly fun, Steve’s constant jokes keeping your spirits high. He always manages to make you laugh, which is why you tolerate his quirks. 

“I’m pretty sure Javi’s going to be there,” he says, almost too nonchalantly, meaning he’s in the mood to be messy.

You keep your gaze focused on the coastline, watching as palm trees blur past. The wind from the open windows has you squinting momentarily, but it can’t cool the sudden heat spreading through your body. 

“It’s not going to be weird seeing him, right?” He presses and you finally turn to face him, moving your sunglasses to the top of your head.

“Why would it be weird?” you ask, the challenge clear in your voice.

He shoots you a look, brows raised and lips quirked in that irritating way of his. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe ‘cause of the whole flirtin’ with you during the middle of a scene thing? Or, y’know, the elevator incident… which, by the way, what the fuck even happened there?” He glances at you, curiosity practically oozing out of him.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, but you can’t stop the way your thighs rub together at the memory. 

Javier’s mouth... God. “None of your damn business.”

“Don’t tell me you fucked him.”

You laugh, loudly, the sound bordering on forced. “Absolutely not.”

He shoots you that okay, sure look, and you groan internally.

Steve’s like a dog with a bone when he gets curious, and you know he’s not going to let this go until you give him something. You sigh, deciding to indulge him— partially. 

“He was being an asshole,” you start, and he immediately interjects with, “Nothing new there,” causing both of you to share a laugh at Javier’s expense.

You shake your head, returning your sunglasses to the bridge of your nose. “No, seriously. He was pushing my buttons, being his usual peacock self. I don’t even know how it escalated, but one moment we’re arguing, and the next... he’s got his tongue in my pussy.”

Steve chokes on his own spit at your bluntness. He’s heard and seen much worse on set, yet your confession has him all tripped up. 

“So, you did fuck him?”

You roll your eyes again, shifting in your seat as the horny flashbacks hit you all at once— Javier’s lips wrapped around your clit, the perfect rhythm of his tongue, his fingers.

You shove those thoughts away, focusing on the road ahead, annoyed at both Javier and Steve now. “Getting head isn’t fucking. It’s, like, third base. And anyway, I made it clear— that’s all he was getting from me. I’m not about to waste my time rolling around in bed with him.”

He gives you a look— a knowing look— and you scoff, shaking your head. “What now?” 

“Nothing. You’re just the first person I’ve heard say that about him.”

“Someone’s gotta humble his ass,” you mutter, though the words feel heavier than they should. You try to act like you’ve put Javier out of your mind, like that moment was nothing but a blip in your life, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple.

You’ve never met anyone like him, and the fact that he can elicit such reactions from you pisses you off so bad.

As the coastline stretches out in front of you, Malibu drawing closer with every mile, you can’t help but wonder if seeing Javier today will be as easy as you’re pretending it will be.

The mansion is far more extravagant than anything you could have imagined. Its grand facade, with towering columns and ivy crawling up the sides, feels like something out of a movie set, and for a second, you almost forget why you’re here.

But then, as soon as you step past the threshold, you hear it— echoing from deep within the house are the unmistakable sounds of exaggerated moans, grunts, and the rhythmic thump of bodies meeting.

You adjust the strap of your camera bag on your shoulder, your beach bag abandoned in Steve’s car. As you step further into the foyer, Robbie appears, that infamous smirk plastered on his face.

“Long way from home, aren’t you, Dorothy?” he jokes, taking in your wide-eyed amusement as you scan the expensive decor— the towering glass chandelier overhead, the marble floors gleaming beneath your feet, the floor-to-ceiling windows.

You can’t help but be a little impressed. 

But of course, he’s there to give you shit about it. You turn your wide-eyed gaze into a glare, bringing your attention to him. “So funny. You should quit your current sleazy day job and take up another sleazy one— stand up,” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He just grins, unbothered by your sharp tone. “You’re always a joy to work with. No wonder Javi asked for you specifically.”

Your entire demeanor shifts viscerally and you curse yourself for it mentally, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what? Javier asked for me?”

He shrugs, indifferent to your confusion. “Yeah. He’s set for a solo shoot upstairs in one of the bathrooms before he’s on with...” He snaps his fingers, trying to remember. “...Mariella. Real pretty girl, it’s her first on-camera gig today.”

The world blurs a little as your mind zeroes in on that one bit of information: Javier asked for you. And not just for any shoot— a solo one. You blink, shaking your head to clear the fog. “I’m sorry, can we go back to the part where I was summoned here by someone who isn’t my boss?”

“Oh yeah, he made a real fuss about it. Sent away the other guy we had lined up for the shoot. Told me he wouldn’t do it unless you were behind the camera. Even offered to pay out of his own pocket just to get you here. It’s the only reason we’re paying you as much as I promised over the phone.”

Your stomach twists and you can feel your face settling into a deep frown, the kind that pulls some of your mood down with it. So that’s why he dangled such a big paycheck in front of you this morning.

After the elevator incident (as Steve has so eloquently named it), after the intense heat of his mouth on you, the way he had you— he said he’d leave you alone. He was supposed to respect the boundaries you set, but here he is, yanking you back into his orbit. 

You can already picture him upstairs, lounging in one of those stupidly lavish bathrooms, probably smirking that damn smirk of his, waiting for you.

You try to squash down the way your pulse quickens at the thought, the lingering memory of his fingers digging into your hips, his tongue working between your thighs, is beckoning you into temptation again.

“Fucking great,” you mutter, more to yourself than your boss. You have half a mind to storm up those stairs, find the pornstar, and give him a piece of your mind before marching right back out to spend your day on the beach— free of drama and distractions and him.

But the reality is, you’re being paid nearly three times what you’d normally make on a gig like this. It’s enough to drown out the temptation to walk away, however satisfying that would be.

You’re an adult. You’ve dealt with worse. You can handle this.

Robbie gives you a sidelong glance, clearly sensing your hesitation. “You’re not backing out, are you?”

With a sigh, you force a smile and shake your head. “As good as it’d feel to leave, no, I’m not. I’ll be up in a sec.”

Relief flashes across his face, and he gives you a few pointers before rushing off into this maze of a house.

You linger for a second longer, taking a deep breath to shake off the nerves. Come on. Get it together. After a final mental pep talk, you head toward the grand staircase that winds up to the second floor. 

The sight that greets you at the top of the stairs stops you in your tracks: Lexxie is splayed out on her back atop some console table, currently getting the life fucked out of her. The visual is chaotic but nothing new. You’ve seen it a hundred times before. 

A guy with a scruffy beard and a beat-up baseball cap stands behind the camera, looking more bored than impressed, barely watching as the two stars go at it.

You lean against the nearby railing, your voice cutting through their heavy breaths and grunts. “Guess your marriage to Javier didn’t last very long,” you tease from off camera, referencing the honeymoon shoot.

The star’s eyes snap open at the sound of your voice, and she flashes you a playful, almost sweet smile in between heavy breaths. “Kinda regretting stepping out on him—oh, fuck.” Her snappy comeback dissolves into a breathy moan as the guy currently rearranging her on the table pushes her legs up to her chest, hitting just the right spot. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ruin your shot,” you say, throwing a glance at the cameraman, knowing how annoying it can be when someone messes with your focus.

He waves it off with a lazy shrug. “It’s not ruined. Honestly, I would’ve quit filming ten minutes ago. It’s starting to drag. I’m impressed they’re still going.”

You let out a small laugh, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, they’ve got stamina like you wouldn’t believe. Makes me feel lazy in bed sometimes, but then I remember how unrealistic this shit actually is.”

He chuckles, scratching at his jaw. “Should make it an Olympic sport. Bet we’d bring home gold.”

“Pretty sure that already exists and it happens in the Olympic Village.” You smirk, finally peeling your eyes away from the couple to look at him properly.

He’s cute in that disheveled, stray-dog kind of way. His curls poke out from under a worn baseball cap, his beard patchy, and his clothes rumpled, like he just rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing he could find. He fits in perfectly with the kind of guys you’d expect on a porn crew.

Earning a genuine laugh from him, he extends a hand. “I’m Frankie.”

You shake it, offering your name in return. “I’m also part of the crew. About to go shoot a scene in the master bathroom.” You explain, noticing how his grip lingers just a little, his smile playful and easy. You feel a bit of warmth rush to your cheeks, and he’s about to say something when—

“Oh fuck, I’m about to cum!” Lexxie’s voice is piercing, loud and breathless, pulling your attention back to the scene.

You shake your head, stifling a laugh. “Well, that’s my cue,” you mutter, stepping out before you get too caught up flirting with him.

“Nice meeting you,” he says before dismounting the camera, moving in closer to capture the so-called money shot.

Cute. Too cute. It’s almost enough to make you forget about the man you’re about to see.

You push open the door to the room Javier’s in, and the sight of him has you doing a double take.

He’s standing in the middle of the room with nothing but a white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, his defined Adonis belt drawing your eyes in a way you hate to admit.

His toned, brown torso glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat, the sunlight pouring into the room making him look like he’s glowing.

You need to toughen up, and in order to do so, you have to bitch at him. It’s the only way to keep that lustful cavewoman instinct away.

“You’re a piece of work,” is what you settle on, making sure to let your tone really punctuate how annoyed you are by the stunt he pulled today.

The second his eyes lock onto yours, amusement flickers behind them, as if he’s been waiting for this confrontation.

He quirks a brow, lips curving into a lazy smile. “¿De que hablas nena—?”

“What happened to ‘if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone’? Was that something you said just to lower my guard? To get me to give you what you want?” You cut him off, keeping your distance even as you notice him inching closer.

Your eyes are daggers as they bore into him, and for a brief second, you hope he feels at least some of the fire burning in your chest. But if he’s affected, he doesn’t show it. He is frustratingly calm, like he’s above it all.

“You gave me no indication that you didn’t want me anymore.” His voice is casual, almost patronizing.

You groan as you throw your hands up in exasperation. “I literally said, ‘Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again.’ What the fuck else do I have to say or do to get you off my back?”

Silence settles between you two as you stand there staring each other down. He’s unreadable, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin tingle.

“Well?” you demand, impatient.

“In my defense— it didn’t sound very convincing.” You stare at him incredulously before turning on your heel. Hell no. He can keep his money and his bullshit. You’re not doing this.

But just as your fingers graze the doorknob, his voice sharpens with a hint of panic, calling your name.

“Wait, look,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, “I’m not trying to start anything. I just thought—” he pauses, searching for the right words. “I’d feel more comfortable if you were behind the camera during this shoot. Not the other guy Robbie brought in.”

Frankie? He seems so harmless, and besides, Javier’s never had an issue with whoever’s in the room when he’s filming, so why is it a problem now?

However, his tone does sound sincere. You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes and refusing to let your guard down. “This better not be another one of your tricks, Javier. If you’re doing this to try and get into my pants—”

He almost grins, but catches himself just in time, clearly biting back a remark. You can see it in the way his mouth twitches, and you know exactly what he’s thinking. Already have, his brown eyes seem to say. But he holds his tongue, offering a faint nod instead. 

“I promise. No tricks. Just a professional shoot. That’s it.”

You give him one last warning glance before sighing. “Fine. But I’m telling you, Javier—”

“I know, I know,” he interrupts, holding up his hands. “I get it and please stop calling me Javier.”

You arch a brow. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but everyone calls me Javi.”

Ugh, whatever. “Okay, fine, Javi. Just show me where I’m supposed to set up.” 

He bites back another grin and motions you with a flick of his head, and with the weird tension simmering, you follow him toward the ensuite bathroom. The door creaks open, revealing an elaborate setup, and you pause in the doorway, eyes widening.

It’s surprisingly... beautiful.

In front of a massive window that overlooks the sprawling blue ocean outside, there’s a porcelain clawfoot bathtub filled with what looks like a milk bath. Various colored flower petals float delicately on the surface, scattered in an almost artful arrangement.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Well, damn. This actually looks nice.” This bathroom is bigger than your entire apartment.

Javier notices your reaction and leans against the doorframe to the connecting walk in closet, arms crossed over his bare chest, a smirk playing on his lips. “Catering to the female gaze,” he says with a cocky shrug, “At least, that’s what my agent told me. Seems like I’m very popular among the ladies.”

The way he says it makes you want to smack him upside the head. He’s pushing your buttons again in the most subtle way, and you hate how good he is at it.

“Cute,” you reply dryly, walking past him to set your camera bag down on the large counter.

As you begin to unpack and set up, you can feel his eyes on you, watching your every move, lingering on the exposed skin of your back then dripping down to your legs.

It kind of feels good to have him ogling you like this. The whole look but don’t touch thing is really doing it for you, more than you’d care to admit. There’s a certain power in keeping him wanting, yet also forcing the distance.

“It’s not just about the ladies, you know. I actually want this to be good. I trust you to make it look that way.”

You glance over at him. His playful arrogance has slightly faded, shaded in by the genuine want to make this feel more than just some raunchy scene.

“I’m not a director, I just film it,” you remind him, adjusting the camera lens as you try to play it off. “So just do whatever you think is right. Robbie gave me some pointers, but it wasn’t much.”

“Still,” he presses, “there’s some finesse to what you do.”

At least he’s aware of that. “Let’s just get this over with,” you say, deflecting the compliment.

You finish setting up the camera, adjusting the tripod to get the perfect angle. It’s important to capture the full picturesque scene to begin with— the soft light spilling in through the window, the sparkling blue ocean in the background.

You clear your throat, “Okay, I’m all set for whenever you’re ready.”

Javier moves casually as he unwraps the white towel from around his waist. His cock, already half-hard, demands your attention, but you force yourself to look away. You rub your lips together then lick at them unconsciously, trying to focus on anything other than his naked body.

“Got plans after this?” he asks as though he’s asking you about the weather.

You blink at the normalcy of the question “Just going to hang out by the beach,” you reply plainly, trying to keep your focus on the camera and not on his crotch.

It almost feels strange talking to him like this, without the usual teasing or sexual tension-laden bickering.

“Sounds fun,” he says as he steps into the tub, the water sloshing around him. “Real nice out here. The weather is perfect for it today.”

You watch as he settles in, the milky water rising around his body, and for a moment, you’re completely mesmerized.

The scene in front of you looks like something out of a romantic painting, and it hits you how undeniably beautiful he looks. His skin, a warm golden brown, contrasts perfectly with the creamy white of the bath, and the colorful flower petals floating on the surface make the whole thing look like a dream.

He leans back, the water just kissing his chest, and you catch yourself imagining what a soft, hazy vignette filter would do to the shot, how it would add an enchanting glow to an already intimate scene.

You shake your head slightly, snapping yourself out of the reverie. You’re supposed to be filming him jerking off, not admiring the aesthetics like this is some fine art shoot. But fuck, it’s hard to separate the two when the visuals are this damn good.

Javier, of course, senses your brief distraction. He watches you, eyes thoughtful as he stretches out, letting the water ripple around him. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a slight smirk playing on his lips, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand, despite the heat pooling between your thighs. “Is there a clear direction for this scene, or are you just improvising?”

“I’m just winging it,” his voice is a rich, velvet drawl, a little rough from all the smoking he does. “No dirty talk. They want my natural noises to be the main focus… amongst other things.” He cocks his head to the side, one arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

Heat blooms low in your belly, shooting straight to your cunt at the sight. The way his bicep flexes, the muscles shifting smoothly beneath that taut, sun-kissed skin, showcasing just how defined he is while still looking so maddeningly soft. 

Calm down, girl, you silently reprimand your pussy. She’s fucking purring right now.

You clear your throat and give him a nod, signaling him to begin. Stepping behind the camera, you focus through the lens, grateful for the distance.

Javier moves slowly. His head tips back against the edge of the tub, eyes falling closed, the soft curve of his lashes fanning out like shadows against his skin. One hand trails down, lingering at the hollow of his collarbones. The movements are unhurried, almost reverent, as though he’s savoring the feel of his own skin.

The intimate build-up draws you in, despite your best efforts to remain detached.

You unmount the camera from its tripod after a few moments, stepping closer to him, framing the shot tight around his chest, the slow glide of his hand along his torso. You can’t help but notice the pounding of your heart, each beat mirroring the steady, throbbing pulse at your clit. 

The sight of him— relaxed, fully in his element, bathed in the soft glow of light— stirs that fucking feeling deep within you.

It’s not just desire, though that’s certainly there. It’s the maddening awareness of how sensual, how magnetic this man is. And even though you try to tell yourself you’d feel the same about any other attractive man in his place, you know that’d be a damn lie.

Javier’s hand moves lower, ghosting over the ridges of his soft stomach. His other hand trails slowly through the water, sending gentle ripples through the milky bath. You swallow hard and focus the lens on his face— the slight parting of his pouty pink lips beneath his trimmed mustache that you just now realize has a small patch right above his cupid’s bow.

Even his imperfections are attractive.

The flushed skin of his cock makes an appearance, his thick, swollen head breaking the surface of the water with each subtle movement, teasing you and the camera. The way it peeks through, the slick tip glistening in the milky bath, almost feels like a taunt— winking at you.

Doing as you’re supposed to, you adjust the lens to zoom in on the way his cock flirts with the surface.

If you were anyone else, one of his usual co-stars maybe, you’d lean down and give it a few kitten licks. You’d tease the sensitive crown with your tongue, circling the tip before letting it slide past your lips— just enough to drive him wild.

Your tongue twitches at the thought.

A soft groan escapes his lips as he gets closer to where he’s aching to touch. It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he knows you’re imagining the feel of his cock in your mouth, the taste of his salty skin, the way he’d twitch against your tongue as you tease him until he begs for more.

Maybe he’s picturing your lips wrapped around him, too.

You bite down on your lower lip, forcing yourself to stay quiet, to stay focused, even though your body is betraying you. The mess in your panties, the way your nipples stiffen beneath your bathing suit top— everything about this moment is dangerous.

Then finally, his fist wraps around his cock, a soft slosh of water accompanying the motion. The eroticism of the scene— paired with the proximity, the memory of those hands on you— ignites that annoying need deep inside.

He strokes himself slowly, eyes still closed as though lost in the pleasure of it all. You focus the camera on his hand, on the way it moves with purpose, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock, slick with precum.

His groans start to fill the air, and your own body reacts, hips shifting slightly as you try to ignore pressure at your cunt.

“Still with me?” His voice cuts through the silence, raspy and knowing, eyes fluttering open to look at you.

Oh. Have they always been this golden?

“Yeah,” you’re proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady.

Javier’s body is pure, unfiltered sin in motion. As you move around the bathtub to capture every angle, you can’t help but admire him. His muscles shift with every slow pump of his hand, the sinewy lines of his arms and torso rippling just beneath the milky water.

His stomach contracts with each exhale, drawing your gaze lower to the faint trail of hair leading down to his cock, which you catch glimpses of when his hips buck up inadvertently.

His breathing grows heavier, his pouty bottom lip caught between his teeth, brows furrowing in concentration as his pleasure builds. It’s mesmerizing, the way his face contorts, his expressions almost too intimate, too personal for the lens. But you can’t tear your eyes— or the camera— away.

His fist moves with such confidence, touching himself with an unhurried rhythm that only a man used to his own pleasure can manage. Every time his thumb glides over the tip of his cock, a heavier grunt rumbles in his throat and it’s so hot.

You’re too focused on capturing every inch of him that it almost catches you off guard when he begins to speak.

“Wish it was your pretty hand around me right now, baby.” His voice is husky, laced with want, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You blink rapidly, heart stalling in your chest as the camera wavers slightly in your hands. “Javier,” you sigh, his name slipping from your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Fuck, I know, but shit—” His words are more ragged now, spoken between heavy breaths. “You’re all I can think about still. You stay in my mind, muñeca. Can’t get you out.”

Even though every rational part of you knows you should stop him, should leave or at least say something to shut him up, you don’t.

You don’t run, you don’t protest. You just... let it happen.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I-I—” The words get stuck in your throat, “I can’t. I’ll ruin the shoot.” Why is that your priority right now?

“You won’t.”

The way he says it chips at the walls you've built around yourself.

“What do I even say?”

“Anything,” there he goes again, using that tone that makes him sound like he’s begging.

So, you say what you’ve been thinking of since he got into this damn tub. “Your cock is so pretty, Javi.” You purr, throwing all caution to the wind, lying to yourself that this means nothing.

The effect is immediate. He groans, a deep sound from his chest, and his hand moves faster over his shaft, the slickness of the water amplifying the movement. “Fuck,” he says, his breathing now erratic, “say it again.”

Your gaze flicks down and it’s mesmerizing watching the way his body responds to his own touch, but it’s the fact that he’s unraveling in front of you that leaves your mouth dry.

“Such a pretty cock, Javi,” you repeat, voice steadier this time, growing bolder with each passing second. Every flex and contraction of his body feeds the arousal pulsing in you. “I bet it would feel perfect sliding down my throat, hitting the back of it until I’m choking on you.”

All those hours spent listening to cheesy porn dialogue are finally paying off.

His head falls back, exposing the strong column of his neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. A guttural groan escapes him as the image of what you just said sets in. His other hand moves down to cup his heavy, swollen balls, the water around him rocking more violently now as he starts to lose himself in the fantasy.

“Shit… I’m close,” he growls, voice breaking with need, the words barely coherent. “Keep talking to me, fuck…”

You lean in slightly, the camera momentarily forgotten. “You want to come for me?” Your whisper is dripping with lust, the idea of him falling apart because of you making your pussy ache. “You want to make a mess? Pretend I’m kneeling right here, my mouth open and waiting for you to fill it, warm and wet just for you?”

You’ve seen him come so many times, watched him fill too many cunts with his spend and paint different parts of their pretty bodies— but none of it compares to the sight before you.

The way his body jerks in response tells you everything you need to know. His grip tightens on the edge of the tub, knuckles going white as he pumps faster, rougher, pushing himself toward the brink. His hips start lifting out of the water with every thrust into his own hand, chasing that final release.

“Fuck, yes…,” he groans, voice strangled, barely holding it together. His eyes squeeze shut, every muscle in his body tensing, going rigid as he falls over the edge.

His bilingual expletives cut off into a long, drawn-out moan as his cock twitches, thick ropes of cum spilling out in messy spurts, splattering against his fist, swirling into the milky bathwater. The petals float lazily across the surface, some clinging to his skin, as the evidence of his release drifts around him.

You stand there, heart pounding, frozen as your brain tries to catch up with your pussy.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, fumbling with the camera as you stop the recording. You quickly move to pack everything up and try your damndest not to look at him.

“Wait, don’t—” Javier’s voice is still hoarse, but there’s a touch of urgency to it now, breaking through the post-orgasm haze. You hear the water sloshing violently behind you as he moves, and you know he’s getting out of the tub. “Just… hang on.”

“No. I-I gotta go,” you stammer, your hands frantically packing up the camera, the lens cap slipping through your fingers. You try to grab it, but your nerves are shot and it fumbles. Thankfully, it doesn’t take damage. You’d hate to hear Robbie bitch at you for breaking the brand-new camera.

Just get out of here is the only thought running through your mind. Every time you’re around him lately, you end up a confused, horny, exasperated mess, and you can’t handle it anymore.

“Hey—wait!” Javier slips as he tries to step out of the tub, nearly falling as he reaches for you, his wet feet squeaking against the floor. You turn just in time to see him catch himself, water dripping from his body, his skin still flushed from what just happened.

“What the hell?” You shoot him a look, “You’re gonna break your neck trying to stop me from leaving—”

“I wasn’t—fuck, just let me talk for a second.” He runs a hand through his soaked hair, water dripping down his neck, over the curve of his shoulders, and you hate how even now, you’re distracted by how good he looks. He reaches for the towel and loosely wraps it around his waist. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Neither did I,” you snap, stuffing your gear into your bag, not caring how haphazardly it’s packed. “This— this isn’t what I signed up for. I’m here to work, remember? Not… whatever the fuck that was.”

He steps closer, reaching for your arm, but you yank it away before he can touch you. The last thing you need is his hands on you right now, reminding you of everything you shouldn’t want.

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice softens, but there’s a frustration beneath it, like he’s grappling with the same confusion you are. “I wasn’t trying to mess with you, okay? I just… I don’t know what the hell is happening between us either.”

You stop, finally meeting his gaze. There’s something in his eyes that pulls at the part of you that’s freakishly tethered to him, but you can’t let that get to you now. Not when everything feels so damn complicated.

“Javier, this—” You struggle for words, shaking your head. “This can’t keep happening. I can’t—” You pause, your breath catching. I can’t have you. “I don’t want you,” you correct yourself.

His jaw clenches, muscles ticking under the strain. “Stop bullshitting me,” he growls, eyes narrowing.

“I’m not,” you shoot back, but it comes out too quickly, too rehearsed.

“You’re lying through your fuckin’ teeth, and it’s pathetic. What is so wrong with giving me a chance?” He keeps circling back to this— chances.

One thing about him, he knows how to trigger a fucking migraine. 

“Everything!” The word bursts out of you like a confession. “Everything about this is wrong. It’s why I’ve been trying to stay away since day one, but you’re so— ugh!” You throw your hands up, exasperated, the bathroom suddenly feeling too small and claustrophobic. He’s got you spinning in circles, tying you up in knots, and you can’t think straight around him.

Without a second thought, you turn to leave, your feet moving as if you’re fucking levitating. So what if you’ve made a habit of running away from him? You don’t owe him shit.

“Nena—” Desperation laces his voice and that stupid nickname makes your skin curl. “I don’t want you to leave like this.”

“Well, too bad,” you snap over your shoulder. “I’m leaving so you can’t sweet-talk me into anything.” The slam of the door echoes behind you, a final punctuation to your statement.

As you step out into the hallway, the distant sounds of people fucking filter through the air, kind of grounding you back to the real world.

You can’t keep working with him, not if every interaction is going to end like this. You make a mental note to talk to Robbie after today’s shoot. No more Peña.

The day drags on, the tension from earlier still lingering, but now, sitting outside on the shaded patio, you feel a small reprieve.

A half-eaten sandwich rests before you on the table, your eyes lazily tracing the lines of the zero-edge pool that blends into the horizon. The soft rustle of palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze lulls you into a sense of temporary peace. You glance around, taking in the pristine luxury surrounding you. Rich people really have it made, you think, marveling at the extravagance of someone else’s life.

The spat with Javier lingers but you’ve done your best to ignore it by keeping busy. The other shoots happening in the house have kept you distracted, but you know what’s coming: the last scene of the day— with him— and the new girl, Mariella. A small sigh escapes your lips as you sink deeper into the patio chair, absolutely dreading it.

Your tranquility is shattered when you feel a presence nearby. Already anticipating another confrontation with Javier, you steel yourself and don’t even bother looking up before snapping, “Oh my god, can you just leave me alone—”

The words get jammed in your throat as your eyes land on Frankie, not Javier. He stands there, looking taken aback, a paper bag in one hand and an awkward smile tugging at his lips. You instantly feel like a bitch.

“Shit— sorry,” you stammer, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I thought you were someone else.”

Frankie lets out a small chuckle, brown eyes softening as he rubs the back of his neck. “No worries, I can leave if you want—”

“No, no,” you say quickly, waving him off. “Please, stay. I didn’t mean to be snappy.”

He hesitates for a moment before motioning to the empty chair across from you. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head, and he lowers himself into the seat, setting his lunch down. The small talk starts easily, flowing naturally as you both munch on your food. He tells you about his daughter, a proud smile on his face as he recounts how she’s the light of his life. Then he goes on about how his friends call him Catfish because of some dumb inside joke, and also the fact that he’s a retired pilot. It somehow doesn’t surprise you— the career fits him.

“How do you go from flying helicopters to shooting porn?” you ask, the question half serious, half teasing as you lean back in your chair, eyes hidden behind your sunglasses.

Frankie raises an eyebrow and smirks, clearly amused. “Shit happens,” he says with a shrug. “How do you go from having a film production degree to spending your days staring at tits and ass?”

A wry smile tugs at your lips. You tilt your head, pausing for effect. “... Shit happens,” you echo, the irony not lost on either of you.

He snorts, taking a slow sip of his water, the sound of his laughter rolling into the lazy afternoon air. You can’t help but steal a glance from behind your shades, your gaze wandering over his rugged features.

There’s something about the way the sun hits him just right, casting a golden glow over his tanned skin. You swallow, feeling a subtle pull in your chest, an unexpected attraction. He’s not flashy, not like the other guys you’re used to working with— there’s an unspoken confidence in his ease, a solidness that makes you want to keep looking.

“So… who’d you think I was? Just then?” He asks, adjusting his cap.

You try not to let your small smile falter. “Oh, just an annoying coworker.”

“Ah, the kind who shows up at the worst times, huh?”

“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh, “You know the type.”

Frankie leans in just slightly, lowering his voice. “Well, I’m glad I’m not that guy.” There’s a flicker of flirtation in his tone, his eyes lingering a beat too long. “But if you ever need someone to… keep him under control, you just let me know. Got the remedy for that right here.” 

He exaggeratedly flexes his biceps, and the snug t-shirt he’s wearing pulls taut around his arms, highlighting their impressive size.

You can’t help but admire the view— he’s really fun to look at, all charming smiles and playful confidence.

“I might just take you up on that, actually,” you reply, matching his energy with a teasing smile of your own. “I could definitely use someone who knows how to handle things.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his pink lips. “I’m more than equipped for that, trust me.”

For a second, it feels like the two of you are in your own little world— until, of course, it comes crashing down.

A voice cuts through the moment like a knife. “We’re ready for the last scene.”

You turn to see Javier standing there, arms crossed, jaw tight, his gaze flicking between you and Frankie. His entire posture screams annoyance.

“And who are you?” Frankie retorts, squinting one eye against the harsh sunlight, playful defiance dancing in his tone.

Javier doesn’t seem to like that response at all. “I’m ready to get this shit done with,” he snaps, and you narrow your eyes, practically shooting daggers at him.

Frankie clears his throat, sizing up Javier’s bristling energy. “Right.”

You catch the word presumido slip from his lips— the Spanish insult that has you exhaling a light laugh through your nose, because he’s so spot on and he doesn’t even know it.

Both of you stand, Frankie gathering the remnants of your lunch. “If you’d like some company down by the beach later, I’ll still be around,” he adds smoothly, sliding the proposition in there as casually as if he were just suggesting grabbing coffee. You almost don’t mind him crashing your solo date.

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, pushing your chair in. “It would be great to not have to take the taxi back, but I was willing to do it for a nice afternoon by the water.” You can feel Javier’s possessive stare burning into you from across the way.

Frankie, absolutely unbothered, leans in closer, a charming grin on his face. “Here’s my number if you need that ride.” A pen appears out of nowhere, and he scribbles down his digits on a clean corner of his napkin, tearing it off with an effortless confidence before handing it to you.

“Definitely,” you say with a flirty smile, tucking the napkin into your pocket, feeling a thrill against the scowling presence of the spectator watching from the sliding glass door 

Frankie branches off to use the restroom and you push past Javier, no intention of speaking to him until—

“If you spent less time flirting with the crew and more time focusing on your job, we’d be finished by now.”

You can practically taste his jealousy.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him, your patience running thin. “Really, Javi? You’re jealous of Frankie? That’s what this is about? Did our last conversation not put shit in perspective for you?”

He steps closer, eyes hard, voice low. “Jealous? Of him?” He scoffs, but the tension in his jaw betrays him. “I just don’t appreciate having to wait because you’re too busy cozying up to someone else. Especially someone who looks like they just got picked up off the side of the road.”

“And you wonder why I don’t like you.” Is all you can say, brushing past him yet again, his presence looming heavy as you head toward the living room where the last scene is set to be shot.

The moment Robbie goes on with his usual pre-shoot rundown, your attention shifts to the newbie Mariella immediately, drowning out his usual spiel.

The girl— and she is a girl, no matter what the paperwork says— looks painfully young. Her cropped tee hugging her braless chest, barely keeping her breasts from spilling out, and those flimsy pajama shorts riding high on her thighs. It’s the kind of outfit that makes you uneasy— one you’ve seen too many times in this industry, designed to play into the fantasies of men who want their women to look barely legal.

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sour taste of frustration building in the back of your throat. This is the part of the job that gnaws at you— the undercurrent of exploitation that no one acknowledges.

You’re not naive, you know exactly what sells in porn. You know what these people want to watch, what they get off on. The younger, the better. 

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach when you’re standing on set, watching it play out in real time.

Just as Mariella positions herself, preparing for the camera to roll, you can’t stop yourself. The words come out before you can think to censor them. “How old are you?”

Suddenly, everyone’s attention shifts to you. Robbie. Steve. Frankie. Even Javier, who’s lounging in the corner, waiting for his moment to shine. They all freeze, the casual banter dying off as your question lingers in the air. Mariella blinks, looking around as if unsure who you’re even talking to.

“I—I turned twenty last week.”

Your expression hardens, and the disapproval is written all over your face. “She’s not even old enough to drink, and you’re having her fuck Javier?” Your eyes cut to Robbie, who’s staring at you like you’ve just sprouted another head.

The silence stretches for a beat too long before he scoffs, shaking his head like you’re being ridiculous. “I don’t pay you to hear your opinions on shit,” he snaps, clearly irritated. “Just sit there and record the damn thing.”

Your eyes roll hard enough that it almost hurts. “You’re all a bunch of perverts.”

Poor Frankie catches a stray with that one. It’s like everything is grating on you in ways it usually doesn’t. Normally, you can shove it down and keep your head low because, at the end of the day, you’re just here for the paycheck.

“Perverts pay your bills, sweetheart,” Robbie throws back, all nonchalant. What’s worse is that he’s right.

Moments like this make you wonder how long you can keep doing this without losing a part of yourself in the process.

You look around at the other three men, none of them stepping up to say anything in your defense. Useless.

You shouldn’t be surprised, but it stings. Even Javier, usually quick with a sarcastic quip or biting comment, says nothing. He just sits there, stuffing out a cigarette that’s magically appeared between his lips.

It feels like a betrayal, even though you know better than to expect any different.

And Mariella? She’s clearly distracted, caught up in the magnetic pull Javier has over people. The way she’s looking at him with that starstruck, wide-eyed awe only makes it worse. You can see it in her expression, the way her gaze flickers over him like she’s already imagining how it’s going to feel when he fucks her. Thinking with her pussy instead of having common sense.

You recognize it because you were just in her exact position, drawn into that same orbit. You find empathy for her, but not the other motherfuckers.

The room descends into awkward silence, as if everyone’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you’re not in the mood for a full-blown argument, so you shut down, slumping into the chair behind your camera with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. 

You know it’s only a matter of time before all these feelings you’ve been aggressively pushing down come back up and make you snap, but for now, you continue to force it all away.

You’re assigned to shoot the stoic, wide shots while Frankie’s in charge of the close-ups, and honestly? You’re relieved. The last thing you need is to be up close, watching this trash unfold.

The scene starts with the typical, raunchy premise: Dad pays babysitter with his cock! It explains Mariella’s barely-there outfit and the cluttered coffee table with school notebooks, setting the scene.

Then there’s Javier who looks the part too; dressed in dark blue slacks, a typical white collared shirt with a few buttons popped open to give that I’m stressed, come take care of me vibe.

He’s the picture of temptation, and it’s obvious Mariella’s already in the clouds.

The filming begins and they share that cheesy, erotic dialogue and lustful touches. You feel yourself sink further into the chair, silently counting down the minutes until you’re decompressing by the beach.

She sinks to her knees before him, her doe eyes looking up at him with that practiced innocence they all seem to perfect so quickly. She reaches for the buttons on his slacks, her delicate fingers fumbling just a little before she pulls down the zipper and tugs at the waistband. She nuzzles her face against his thigh, brushing her lips against his skin, and finally pulls out his cock. Even soft, it’s still an impressive size— but it’s definitely not how this was supposed to go.

“Well, are you going to suck it or just stare at it?” Javier snaps, his tone cutting through the air with an edge that feels too sharp, too real. It doesn’t sound like the crudeness that’s meant to spice up the scene.

His hand shoots out and tangles in her hair, yanking her closer. He’s rougher than usual, harsher, as he forces her mouth onto him.

She wraps her lips around his head, suckling softly at first, then taking him deeper into her mouth. She’s trying to do her job, playing the part of the eager babysitter, but something’s off.

Javier’s head tilts back, eyes squeezed shut, but it’s not the usual look of pleasure that crosses his face. It’s more like he’s concentrating, forcing himself to feel something that isn’t there.

You can’t help it— your eyes flick around the room, looking at the rest of the crew. No one seems to be noticing what you’re seeing, their eyes all honed in on the action in front of them.

But you’re catching the small details like you always do.

After a few more moments, it’s clear that it’s not happening. Javier lets out a frustrated curse, pulling out of her mouth with an audible, wet pop. “Fuck—just, give me a second,” he grumbles, stepping back. Mariella wipes the saliva from her lips with the back of her hand, looking up at him with a mix of confusion and hesitation.

You take that as your cue. Reaching over, you stop the recording, your finger hesitating on the button for only a moment before pressing it. Frankie does the same, Steve lowers his mic and pulls his headset off.

Javier runs a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to the floor, like he’s trying to avoid looking at anyone directly. “I just need a minute,” he says again, but it’s more to himself than to anyone else.

Your gaze lingers on him for a second longer than you intend, and your mind flashes back to earlier, to the way he was with you. The memory is sharp and clear, the contrast striking. He’d come undone for you without hesitation, without needing any coaxing or forcing. Just words. But now, with Mariella kneeling in front of him, offering herself up like a gift, he’s struggling. 

“How long will this minute take? We gotta be outta here soon so get it up before I get one of these two to take your place.”

Javier scoffs, dismissive, “Tape wouldn’t fucking sell.”

“Well one featuring a soft dick won’t either,” comes the retort, and the two of them start their back-and-forth bickering.

You rub at your temples, trying to ease the pressure building behind your eyes. This has to be some weird-ass dream; it sure as hell feels like it. Maybe you’re still in bed, blissfully sleeping until three in the afternoon.

Javier storms off and Steve puts his equipment down. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Robbie just waves him away. “Take five,” he mutters to the rest of you, going in the opposite direction. This is such a mess, and poor Mariella remains on her knees, picking at her cuticles. 

“Please get up and sit on the couch. You look pathetic,” you say to her, not cruelly but bluntly. It’s not her fault, but the sight of her there is making you itch. She complies like a chastised child. 

Frankie drops down beside you, letting out a breath that mirrors your own. “These things usually go like this?” He takes his hat off, ruffling his hair before putting it back on.

“No,” shit has just been weird amongst this group for weeks now. “Burnout is inevitable, I guess.” You’re not about to sit there and shit-talk Javier, despite everything. You might have a mountain of complicated feelings when it comes to him, but you won’t kick him while he’s down.

Before Frankie can respond, Robbie comes barreling back into the room, his face flushed with anger. His eyes lock onto you, and you can see the accusation in them before he even opens his mouth.

“This is your fault,” he spits out, voice sharp, acidic. “All that shit you were talking earlier— now he’s fucking broken.”

You narrow your eyes, standing your ground. “Excuse me?” you snap, incredulous. “I was making a valid point. How the hell is it my fault that he grew a conscience?”

“Y’know,” he starts, his words dripping with the kind of vile, misogynistic shit that makes your blood boil. “You’d do me more good in front of the camera. Have somethin’ shoved up in there to keep you fucking quiet.”

The reaction is immediate. You shoot up from your seat so fast the chair scrapes against the floor, the sound sharp and angry, mirroring how you feel. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Frankie stands too, his face hardening as he takes a step in front of you, finally coming to your defense. “Watch it,”  he warns, and it feels like the whole situation could explode into something much worse.

Robbie, of course, just sneers “What? You gonna defend her? She’s been a pain in my ass for weeks—”

“I’m done.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think them through, but they feel right. 

You’re tired— so damn tired— of this whole mess. Of dealing with assholes like Robbie and Javier who think they can get away with saying whatever they want. “I quit.” 

Your boss’s mouth opens as if he’s about to say something else, but you cut him off with a cutting glare. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you treat me like shit because your precious Javier can’t get his dick hard. Go fuck yourself, Robbie.”

You don’t wait for a response. You turn on your heel and head for the door, your heart pounding in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’ll double up on shifts at the bar or go back to waiting tables like you did throughout college. Whatever keeps you away from this bullshit. 

As you stride down the hallway toward the entrance, you pass Javier and Steve. Javier’s face is stormy, brows knitted together as if he’s still reeling from whatever heated discussion they just had. 

The moment he spots you, his expression shifts. There’s a flicker of surprise, maybe even concern.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

You yank the heavy, probably expensive for no reason, front door open, the sound echoing through the hallway. “I just quit,” you snap, voice sharp as glass. “See you never.”

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @libre-sol . @cherrysugarx . @goodvibesonly421 .

finally started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out. muchas gracias mis putitas (gn) (endearingly) 🖤

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

More of my diabetic Steve verse!

Steve, who doesn’t realize that Eddie is super famous and robin who could literally not care any less.

Steve and Eddie exchange numbers and text all of the time. It takes a week for Eddie to crack and send this message:

Eddie: Please for the love of god let me take you on a date I need to wine and dine you so hard I think I might pass out

Steve obviously says yes.

Eddie takes them to a small diner because he doesn’t want to risk being seen by crazy fans who somehow always find out where he is. If Eddie is being honest, he blames twitter.

Eddie gets there to find Steve already sitting at a booth, fiddling with something on his phone. His glasses are sliding down his nose again and he is wearing a Wham! graphic t-shirt and light wash jeans. He stands up once he notices Eddie and flashes a huge grin, which causes Eddie to also smile.

They both sit down on their respective sides of the table and get comfortable, making small talk. It takes a bit, but Eddie notices that Steve has the menu pulled up on his phone and laughs.

“Doing some homework?”

Steve looks confused for a second before glancing down.

“Oh yeah! I always make sure to look at it beforehand whenever I go out to make sure that I have options depending on my blood sugar level.”

“What’s your… number, is that the correct term, now?”

Steve nods enthusiastically. “Yes! And let me check.” Steve pulls out a cute green pouch and takes out a bunch of supplies. “I just changed my CGM—“ At Eddie’s confused look, he says, “My glucose monitor. It’s not completely synced yet so I can’t rely on my pod to tell me what level I’m actually at.”

After he says that, Steve cleans his finger with an alcohol wipe, lets it dry, and then pricks his finger. He squeezes the pad of his ring finger and blood pools to the surface.

“Yikes. I’m gonna have to give myself a correction or two.”

Steve cleans up the space but leaves his pouch out, and then wraps a sparkly bandaid on his finger.

“What’s a correction?”

Eddie feels dumb. He wishes he knew more about diabetes and actually researched it before showing up to the diner with no prior knowledge.

“I just give myself a little extra insulin to make my blood sugar go down. I’m flirting with 250 right now and I really want a burger.”

—

The date passes swimmingly and the two men find themselves sitting in the same booth at the same diner, but on the same side. Their hands are intertwined and Steve wrapped up half of his meal to take home.

“I made this for you!” Steve says suddenly. He grabs a stack of stapled papers and hands them to Eddie. “I made you a ‘diabetes guide!’ Since I plan on our relationship being permanent, it would give me peace of mind if you knew what to do in case of an emergency.”

Steve begins thumbing through the packet and explaining everything, but Eddie can hardly focus.

Not with Steve clutching his hand or with him wanting their relationship to become “permanent.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face. “I understand if this is a dealbreaker or whatever, but I just like you so much and I want to be your boyfriend as of two weeks ago.”

Eddie just blinks. Then he smiles. “We only met a week ago, Stevie.”

Steve blushes, tucks some hair behind his ear. “I know that. I just had a feeling that I would meet the one.”

“Yeah?” A pause. “Can I kiss you?”

Steve releases a breath. Puts his hand on Eddie’s cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask. I hope you don’t mind the taste of hamburger.”

Eddie laughs before lunging forward.

—

As they head back to Steve’s apartment hand in hand, Eddie tells him about his more than ordinary job. Explains what might happen when people see them together.

Steve just laughs and says, “I’ve fought literal monsters from hell, I can handle anything.”

Eddie falls more in love than he knew possible.

[steddieas-shegoes]

When Eddie comes out to him, Steve makes a big mistake. His first reaction was to thank him for trusting him, which is what Robin told him to do in this situation.

But his second reaction was to say “I also like guys.”

Eddie blinked at him, clearly confused and defensive, like maybe Steve was making fun or not taking him seriously.

“Uh. You do?”

“Yeah man! I mean, no one else knows, but yeah.”

Eddie smiled and thanked him for trusting him with it, said they should hang out more, and recommended a queer bar in Indy if he needed a safe place to explore.

And Steve smiled and nodded like he couldn’t agree more.

As soon as Eddie was gone, he rushed to the phone in his kitchen and called Robin.

She called him an idiot, a dingus, a bisexual disaster —whatever that was—, and told him he absolutely wasn’t allowed to go to a queer bar without her.

She did at least agree to keep up the lie until he could find a way out of it without Eddie thinking he lied to hurt him or something.

But he started hanging out a lot more with Eddie and finding that they had more in common than he originally thought.

Eddie took Robin and Steve to the queer club and Steve…felt at home, felt welcomed, felt like he belonged. Robin kept giving him these looks all night, and Eddie kept dragging him to meet people who he cared about, and one of the guys on the dance floor kept pulling him out there to dance with him.

He felt free and alive and-

Queer.

It hit him as the guy, Paul maybe, was pulling him closer by his waist as his hips rocked to the beat of a song he didn’t recognize but felt like something he wanted on a mixtape. It hit him that he liked this because he liked dancing with Paul like this. He liked this because he saw himself visiting more, even without Eddie and Robin. He liked this because he could picture making out with Eddie in the bathroom.

He froze.

“You okay, sweet thing?” Paul asked him.

“I think I’m in love with my friend.”

Paul’s eyes widened momentarily before patting Steve’s hip. “Is he gay, honey?”

“Huh?” Steve was already trying to find Eddie in the crowd. “Oh, yeah. He’s here tonight.”

“Shouldn’t you be dancin’ with him then?”

Steve finally looked back at Paul, who had his hands on his own hips now, teasing smile on his face.

“Yeah. I should,” Steve thanked him, apologized for any misleading, which was immediately brushed off. Paul was here to dance, he didn’t much care for who he was dancing with.

“Send that beauty over here. She looks like she needs some lessons,” Paul pointed to Robin, who was still looking a little nervous despite the friendly bartender handing her sodas every time he passed by her.

“She’s gay, man.”

“So am I! Doesn’t mean we can’t dance!”

Steve laughed. “You’re right.”

He walked over to Robin quickly, avoided getting pulled back into the crowd.

“I’m in love with Eddie.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “I know, dingus. You literally risked your entire reputation to come to a queer bar to try to impress him.”

Steve balked. “That’s not what this was!”

“Uh huh. Well he’s sulking in the bathroom if you wanna go tell him.”

“Sulking? Why?”

“He saw you dancing with that guy. Think he assumed you were interested in him.”

“Not a chance. I prefer long hair and ripped jeans,” Steve winked. He turned to walk towards the hall with the bathrooms when Robin stopped him.

“Don’t do this if you’re not 100% sure,” she said seriously. “Eddie really likes you and it would destroy him if you were lying to make him feel better.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Steve started, but stopped when Robin gave him a look.

“You’ve literally been pretending to be queer for the last two months because he came out to you and you accidentally came out to him. You’re lucky it wasn’t a complete lie.”

“Yeah but I wouldn’t fuck with his feelings like that.” Steve knew what it was like to be led on. He wouldn’t do that to Eddie. “I’ll be careful with him.”

“And be careful with you.”

He saluted her as he walked away.

When he found Eddie sitting on the counter at the sink in the bathroom, he was swinging his legs back and forth and humming something distinctly less pop than what was playing on the dance floor. No one else was in here, but that didn’t mean no one would walk in.

He walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his knee.

Eddie immediately stopped kicking his feet and looked up.

“What’s with the face?” Steve asked, reaching up to touch the line between his brows that always appeared when he was pouting.

Eddie shrugged. “Just not feeling it tonight I guess.”

“The music isn’t really your thing. Kinda surprised you like this place,” Steve said as his hand drifted down to his wrist. “Seems closer to a small club than a bar.”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Eddie’s tone was sharp, laced with jealousy. Even if Steve hadn’t had his realization five minutes earlier, he would’ve seen what that was from a mile away.

“I was until I realized I’d rather be out there with you.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t really dance.”

“But you’d dance with me if I asked, right?” Steve’s fingers circled his wrist and he tugged Eddie off the counter. “Even if I asked you to do it right here with no music?”

“Steve, what are you doing?”

“Dancing. Or trying to.” Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips and started swaying them in sync with his. “It is hard without music.”

“Why don’t you go back out there?” Eddie’s hands went around Steve’s neck.

“Because you’re not out there. I don’t wanna be where you aren’t.”

“Steve-“

“You know I didn’t actually know I liked guys until tonight?” Steve huffed out a laugh. “Well, I really like this one guy. Not sure about others yet.”

Eddie was silent, but didn’t push Steve away.

“He was hiding in this bathroom though. I didn’t really think he’d join me out there, so I brought the dancing to him,” Steve winked.

“You like me? You? Like me?”

Steve nodded.

“And you just realized this?”

“Kinda.”

“In a queer bar?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s pretty gay, dude.”

Steve snorted and smacked Eddie’s chest. “That’s the point.”

Eddie moved in impossibly closer, no room for Jesus between their chests anymore. “So you lied when you came out to me?”

“I panicked! But it doesn’t actually count as a lie if I’ve seen the light.”

“Was it a rainbow light? Or the reflection of the disco ball in the glitter shorts Perry was wearing?” Eddie joked.

“Perry!” Steve smacked his own forehead. “He’s nice. Made me come tell you how I feel.”

“Oh. He did?” Eddie seemed shy for maybe the first time ever.

“Yeah. Said I should come dance with you if I’m in love with you.”

Steve hadn’t felt like this in a while, and hadn’t left his heart on his sleeve like this in even longer. As Eddie’s face went from shy to shocked to flustered, Steve thought about how long he’d been dancing around these feelings.

But no more dancing around them. Now it was time to dance with them.

“Can’t believe you just said you’re in love with me in the bathroom of a queer bar. Don’t even think they clean this place,” Eddie laughed, letting his forehead fall against Steve’s.

“I’ll tell you again outside.” Steve kissed his cheek. “And in the van.” His nose. “Your house, my house.” The corner of his mouth. “Everywhere.”

Eddie licked his lip, skipping over a soft kiss for a hungry one. It was hot, desperate, impatient. Everything Steve hadn’t known he needed.

Then again, he hadn’t even actually known he liked guys until tonight. Maybe he was just late to learn things about himself.

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”  You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend). 

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond. 

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right. 

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good. 

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list: 

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes. 

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says. 

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza. 

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you. 

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California. 

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters. 

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly. 

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.  

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.  

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break. 

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed. 

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with. 

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee. 

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate. 

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers. 

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes. 

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA. 

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius. 

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again. 

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club. 

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave. 

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet. 

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!” 

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance. 

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household. 

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!” 

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that. 

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?” 

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man. 

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” 

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous. 

Which means it has to be about someone. 

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch. 

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind. 

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend. 

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!” 

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” 

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end. 

– 

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you. 

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you. 

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet. 

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her. 

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile. 

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’. 

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now. 

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary. 

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent. 

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne. 

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match. 

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin. 

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly. 

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil. 

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience. 

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them. 

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster. 

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike. 

Goddamn Eddie Munson. 

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side. 

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you. 

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high. 

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head. 

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be. 

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows. 

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions. 

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery. 

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

– 

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary. 

You’ll miss him when you graduate. 

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one. 

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day. 

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his. 

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for. 

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom. 

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too. 

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table. 

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana. 

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded. 

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin. 

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies. 

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others? 

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.” 

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him. 

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified. 

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol. 

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother. 

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds. 

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

– 

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him. 

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back. 

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd. 

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true. 

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster. 

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song. 

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash. 

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin. 

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot. 

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them. 

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself. 

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score. 

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jaosn tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.” 

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline. 

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there. 

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!” 

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else. 

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones. 

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

– 

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time. 

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms. 

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked. 

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known. 

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.” 

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with. 

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.” 

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does. 

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true. 

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him. 

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke. 

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely. 

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart. 

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow. 

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue. 

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling. 

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted. 

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate. 

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship. 

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud. 

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways. 

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed. 

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to. 

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull. 

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Grumpy old man | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> BestFriend!Steve Rogers x BestFriend!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Steve is grumpy all day since he had seen you with an agent who is better known as a playboy.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.159

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> allusion of smut, fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> hiii darling! so I've a request for Steve Rogers🥰 smutty Steve thing. best friends to lovers? Maybe Steve sees "his" girl talking with another agent or something ( platonic) and he's a bit jealous? She could find him being grumpy as hell all day so she goes to his room ask what's wrong?so the feelings and jealousy just comes out and he tells her how much he's in love? She can kiss him to shut him up? and leads to smut? Lots of love 🥰🥰 @rogersbarber

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the requests. It’s not with a lot of smut but I hope you still like what I made with your request.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 1K Follower Special | “Me and.… are just friends. You’re kidding, right? …. looks at you like you’re their entire world.” | @lives-in-midgard

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

Blue eyes piercing in your back, he narrows and his jaw is clenched while he looks at you talking to another agent. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous — you’re best friends — but he just can’t help himself feeling that way. Especially when you’re talking to the agent, who is better known as the playboy.

Usually Steve isn’t a man who gets jealous, maybe because he doesn’t like a woman the way he likes you. But the two of you have been best friends forever, and he doesn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you because he fell for you. Little does he know that you’re just as much in love with him, and even though you like talking to the agents, none of them is like Steve or could give you the feelings you feel when he is around you or touches you. Even the slightest touch of him causes a desire inside of you.

Steve hums, rolling his eyes, when you hug the agents before you turn around and see Steve waving at him. He doesn’t wave at you; he just looks at you with narrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw. In his hand, he holds a piece of cake, which he squeezes, breaking it and letting it fall on the surface of the table.

“Hey, grumpy. What’s wrong, huh?” You ask teasingly, but Steve doesn’t answer.

He takes a bite of the cake, filling his mouth with it over and over again. You giggle slightly, taking a seat next to him and facing him. You look at him while he eats the cake with his grumpy expression.

When he’s finished and still doesn’t answer you, you place your hand on his shoulder, looking at him with a pout on your lips. Steve also ignores that one; he just turns away, gets up from the chair, and walks along the floor to his room.

“He’s been grumpy all day, hasn’t he?” Natasha asks, and you nod.

She is standing at the door, looking after Steve, before she turns toward you and walks closer, taking a seat in the chair next to you. She smiles at you, placing her warm, encouraging hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe you should talk with him.”

“About what? He didn’t tell me why he was grumpy.”

“Don’t act like you’re stupid; we both know you’re not stupid,” she says, but you just furrow in confusion. “Everyone can see that you like him, and he likes you.”

“Me and Steve are just best friends,” you say, smiling when you think about the man who owns your heart.

“You’re kidding, right?” She asks, but you shake your head.

Even when you could imagine being more than just friends, Steve probably doesn’t feel the same way about you. And you don’t want to tell him because when he doesn’t feel the same, it could ruin your friendship. So you just keep it to yourself and admire the older man whenever he is around you; you enjoy his soft touches or the cuddles during your movie nights.

“Steve looks at you like you’re his entire world.”

You gasp. Does he really look at you like that? Could he do it because he likes you more than you think, or is he just looking at you like that because that’s what best friends are doing? You’re too deep in your thoughts to realize another word that Natasha says until he taps your shoulder and brings you back into reality.

She turns the chair around and pushes you up, making you stand in front of her and look in the direction of the floor. Natasha rolls her eyes, chucking softly while she gets up as well, and pushes you in front of her through the room.

“Nat— I don’t think I should tell him now. Haven’t you seen how grumpy he was?” You ask, thinking to stop Natasha from pushing you further through the floor.

Before you can say something else, you’re standing in front of Steve’s door. Natasha knocks at the door, and then she walks to her room. Just in time, she closed her door when Steve opened it in front of you. He is still looking at you with his grumpy expression, and it makes him look pretty cute. You can’t stop yourself from giggling softly.

“Stevie,” you say, and he just nods.

“Wanna come in?”

He takes a step to the side, making space for you to enter the room before he closes the door behind you. You’re inhaling his scent deeply; it immediately relaxes you, and you walk with him to his bed, letting yourself fall down on it. Steve sits next to you, his back resting against the head board while he looks at you. His blue eyes are glistening, and a small smile appears on his lips when your eyes meet.

“Why are you so grumpy today?”

Steve’s gaze drops, his smile fades away, and he plays with his fingers in his lap. He always does when he is nervous, and you place your hand on his leg and draw small circles on it to clam him down. Steve wants to tell you what’s wrong and why he is grumpy, but he doesn’t know how. His hands are shaking and sweating, and he needs to rub them over his pants covered thighs to dry them. Steve sighs, swallowing harshly; his cheeks heat up, and then he looks at you.

“I—you've just talked with him. He is a playboy, and you were so close to him,” Steve says, lifting his hands.

He slides his fingers through his soft blond hair. Steve sighs deeply, looking away before he turns to face you again.

“He will only fuck you. He— he doesn’t like you like—“

“Like what, Steve?” You ask with a smile.

“Like I do.”

He turns away, blushing immediately. He rubs his hands once again over his pants. You smirk, turning around and getting on his lap. Steve looks confused for a moment, but when you capture his cheeks with your hand, he smiles softly. He leans closer, his breath hitting your lips, and you shiver slightly. Steve breaks the distance between the two of you, pressing his soft lips on yours and his hands finding their way to your hips.

Steve pulls you closer until you’re sitting on his growing bulge. It’s pressing uncomfortably in his pants and causes some friction between your legs when you slowly move your hips against him. You moan softly while Steve pulls away and looks with desire in his blue eyes into yours.

“I’m in love with you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

You smirk when you rock your hips against him, and he moans. Steve looks through his lashes, pushing his hips up to meet yours. His hands roam over your body, and he kisses along your neck, causing you to moan louder and rock your hips harder against his length.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Wait wait wait what about Gwen and Miles finding out about the relationship between Hobie and Miguel's daughter so teenagers part 4 also you really have to turn this into a series of little blurbs I love it so much

love love love!! I’m glad you love it (: Part 3-

𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬... 𝐏𝐭 𝟒!

Pavitr knew, but miles and Gwen were not aware of you dating Hobie.

They found out when you guys all scheduled a hang out, at your apartment, and Hobie just happened to be there before everyone else.

(He came early on purpose)

He sat on your bed with you, putting his guitar on the floor. You both laid down, talking and looking at each other.

He was so early that you both fell asleep, he held you and that’s when the door opened.

“Y/n, your friends are here- oh for fucks sake.” Miguel said, opening the door to you two.

Miles and Gwen looked at even other in confusion, while pavitr smirked to himself.

Miguel looked around, grabbing hobies jacket he took off, and threw it at him.

“Off my daughter. Your friends are here.” He said, and left

“Cunt.” He mumbled, picking up his jacket and standing up.

“Why are you both staring like that?”

“Because your shirtless… in her bed… cuddling her.”

“Oh right. That makes sense, yeah.” He said, and picked up his shirt from the ground as well and put it on.

You stirred, and they looked at you.

“Oh, hey guys.” You grumbled sleepily.

Miles looked at you and back to Hobie, Hobie back to you.

“Are you two.. dating?”

“I don’t like to call her my girlfriend cause I don’t like labels.. future wife I’d like to say.”

You rolled your eyes “Yes. I thought you guys knew.”

“We didnt know!”

“I knew!” Pavitr said, Hobie smiled and they started to play fight.

Your dad peeked into your room when you weren’t looking, he saw you laughing with everyone, all of you on the floor. He smiled ever so slightly, but it was a big smile for him at least.

“Teenagers..” he shook his head and made his way towards his bed.

[tinytalkingtina]

Cool Whip

Rating M | WC 1330 | Ao3 link

Tags: getting together, first kiss, innuendo, bisexual steve and eddie, eddie speed-runs a sexuality crisis, inappropriate use of whipped cream, fast burn (these two have never gone slow in their lives), fade to black

Written for the STWG July 28 prompt "Oh. Oh."

Steve stared at Eddie in complete silence.

Eddie fidgeted under his gaze. “So. Perhaps. In this instance, giving into the gremlin that lives inside my head was not the best choice I could have made,” he said sheepishly.

“Really Edward. You don’t say.” Steve was still holding the incriminating weapon, had been since he confiscated it. Every so often he twirled it around in his hands.

“What if you uhhh, did it back to me? We’ll be even?” he offered. “Come on, it’s fine, I won’t even fight you on it!”

“Can’t do that because we’re at my house, not yours, and this was my last pair of clean pants and underwear. So, unless you want to walk around like Winnie the fucking Pooh for the rest of the night, maybe we don’t spray whipped cream down your jeans too.” 

Steve ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I’m going to go take a shower and wash this shit off of my junk now, ‘kay? Just put the ice cream back in the freezer, we can do a movie night together another time, I guess.” Disappointment was written all over his face. Oops, Eddie didn't realize how much he must have been looking forward to watching Raiders of the Lost Ark. 

As Steve turned around to go, Eddie knew he should let him. Unfortunately, Nosnum Eidde, the impulsive gremlin living in his brain, was still firmly in control.

“Wait, let’s not waste it. Let me clean you up!” He blurted out.

What?

“What?” Steve was staring again, this time with eyes wide in confusion.

“Let me…clean up the mess I made. On your body.”

“Eddie I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

It did sound like a joke didn’t it. But if it was a joke, why was the thought sending sparks of lighting along his spine. 

“I don’t. Don’t think I’m joking right now,” Eddie said slowly. “Give me a minute here.”

It wasn’t like his brain had a perfect track record when it let Nosnum have the wheel. Like those times it had told him that he could climb the tallest tree in the trailer park without getting stuck at the top, or point out how hypocritical O’Donnell was acting during class without getting detention. 

But it had also gotten things right on occasion. And with Steve standing so close, it was busy pointing out things Eddie hadn't thought about before: like for example, when Steve chewed on his lips in agitation, they became invitingly plump. And, despite the growing damp spot on the front, those jeans were still hugging Steve's ass perfectly. 

Perhaps most importantly, he wasn't rushing forward to punch Eddie's lights out for insinuating, well. He just stood there with a faint blush coloring his cheeks. In his house, a place currently unoccupied by anyone else, not even Robin. While wearing a shirt that was just on the wrong side of too tight with his hair coiffed for a night out and oh my G-d—

“Steve…was tonight supposed to be a date?” Eddie was shocked the question fell out of his mouth so steadily.

The blush on Steve's face grew darker. “I mean, sort of? Was getting mixed signals from you but—yeah.” He shrugged. “We haven’t been able to hang out one on one since I figured things out. Thought I’d see how tonight went before making a move.”

“Oh. You. You had a plan to seduce me.” Eddie wheezed a little. "You like me like that?"

“I uh, kind of put two and two together about a month ago. Had a really long talk with Robin, and turns out apparently normal men don't want to, you know, make out with their guy friends. Or imagine Harrison Ford holding a whip when he’s all sweaty and—wait, what about you, Mr. 'Propositioning My Friends To Use My Mouth?’ How long have you known?"

“About five minutes consciously.” Eddie said in a strangled voice. “Maybe ten if we consider what I did to your pants subliminal foreplay.”

Steve snorted. The gremlin in Eddie’s brain was convinced this made him even more attractive. Huh, maybe this had been going on for longer than he had realized, if a snort could set him off.

“Not really sure what submarines have to do with Cool Whip, but yeah we can probably count that. Welcome to the ‘part gay’ club man! You’re taking this really well, no offense.” Steve pat him on the back, the brief contact sending more sparks through his veins.

“Yeah, in 1985 I’d probably be doing something destructive right about now.” Eddie agreed. “But the me of 1987 can’t really muster up the energy for another panic attack after finding out about inter-dimensional portals or. You know. Everything else that happened.” Wow, real smooth Eddie, way to kill the mood of whatever fever dream was happening right now.

“Besides,” he tried for a joke. “1987 Eddie has a high school diploma. My brain’s so full of facts there’s no more room for anything else unless we shove it into my mouth and—“ His eyes widened as he caught up with what he was saying. He ducked to hide behind his hair. “Uh, what I mean was, um. Yeah I’ve got nothing to say for that.”

Steve gave another adorable snort and walked closer. “We may have to work our way up to that one, but maybe I could give your mouth something else to put its lips around instead?”

“Dude that doesn’t even—what, do you want me to vacuum seal your mouth with mine? How would we, wait, please tell me that isn’t the secret move you pulled that had all the cheerleaders in school losing their minds over?” Eddie squeaked out.

Steve blushed again even as he laughed. “First of all I only ever actually dated like, three people in high school, I wasn’t as big a slut as rumors made me out to be. And okay that might have sounded better in my head, but in my defense I kind of can’t think of anything but kissing you right now.”

Eddie rapidly nodded his head. “Yes, that’s. We should do that. Please.” After a slight roadblock in which both of them on autopilot tried to take the lead and grab the other’s face, they finally managed to actually press their lips against each other.

And oh. Oh. 

Look, this was far from Eddie’s first kiss. But this was the first time someone still wanted to kiss after seeing him eat eggs with maple syrup on them. Or who knew he secretly slept with his childhood stuffed animal. Because Steve wasn’t angling to get cheaper weed, or trying to get back at his parents by having Eddie knock on the door in his ripped jeans for a date.

Steve knew Eddie’s whole sordid history, and kissed him anyway, holy shit.

The kiss itself was short and relatively chaste. But after they stopped, Steve didn’t immediately lean out of Eddie’s space. Instead he gave the tip of Eddie’s nose a quick peck before resting their foreheads together. A giggle bubbled up out of Eddie’s chest.

Steve rapped his knuckles on Eddie’s head. “Everything okay up there?”

“You like me. Steeeeve Harringtonnn likes me!” Steve smiled softly at him as he cupped Eddie’s cheek in his palm.

“Yeah, I do, you big dork. And I’d love to continue this, but because someone sprayed whipped cream onto my junk, I need to go shower it off before it gets even crunchier because wow, this is uncomfortable.”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to blush. “Sorry about that again. But if you want maybe uh, maybe I could join you and actually help clean it off?”

Steve smirked. “I think we can work something out, yeah. Come on.”

Running up the stairs while Steve tightly held his hand, Eddie decided that perhaps this time, his brain might have had the right idea after all.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening:

Eddie: "Wait, I was flirting with you the entire Spring Break from hell wasn't I."

Steve: "That was point #1 on Robin's 'Eddie is into you' list."

Eddie: "In hindsight this does explain why she kept saying I could be myself around her last week. I used the opportunity to give her a 2 hour long intro to metal music lesson."

Steve: "Yeah, she said I still owe her for that."

@augustjustice @stellarspecter Come get your fast burn Steddie!

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k words

warnings: explicit language, little tiny hint of angst, mostly fluff and good and fun vibes though<3

summary: in which everyone seems to notice that something is going on between you and steve, but they can’t pinpoint what it is

author's note: we start off kinda angsty and then i promise it's just cute and fun 🫶🏾

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Spring 1986

Most of the time, things always happened the same way. You and Steve would end up in the living room with the intention of studying and doing work for your classes. You’d settle on the floor— because leaning over the coffee table to do work felt much more casual than being at the dining table— and it was always after only twenty minutes of actually being somewhat productive that Steve would drop his notebook or textbook onto the table and shift closer to you, innocently kissing your cheek or the side of your head. 

It was always the subtlest of touches that would pull your focus away from the notes you were taking or the reading you were doing; Steve knew how easily the flip would switch for you. 

This time it was a soft kiss against your neck that made you let out a small laugh and then a quiet hum, already leaning into Steve’s touch. Moments later you were in his lap, knees on either side of him and pressing into the rug under you both. 

Your hands were on his shoulders and then circled his neck, fingers finding home in the hair at the nape. He was the one to close that final bit of distance between you two and hurriedly press his lips against yours. You inwardly smiled at his eagerness and leaned into him so that he was pressed back against the couch.

His hands settled on your hips and then slipped beneath the shirt you were wearing. You expected him to start pushing it up and off of you, but he didn’t and instead simply began to trace teasing circles against your skin, which elicited the softest sigh in contentment from you.

After a few moments, you were pulling away from his lips to catch your breath, and his mouth immediately went to your neck. 

“Hey, I’ve been thinking,” Steve mumbled against your skin. 

Your eyes were shut as you responded with a simple, “Mhm?”

“It’s been a month now,” He started and then pressed a kiss right against a particularly sensitive part of your neck before continuing. “I think we should just tell everyone about us.”

Steve’s words didn’t entirely surprise you— because, in a way, they felt inevitable— but you could still feel yourself slightly stiffen in his arms and a wave of nervousness washed over you when you heard them. 

You knew that this conversation was going to have to happen eventually, but in the past almost five weeks, it had never come up, and instead, you two fell into a sort of routine where you worked out the best way to keep everything a secret. 

It wasn’t a secret that could be kept from everyone forever, that was obvious and you knew that, but you honestly didn’t hate living in this sort of limbo state where this newfound relationship between you and Steve was kept just between you and him. It felt safer that way. 

You pulled back a bit so that you could meet his eyes. It was hard not to immediately look away from his hopeful gaze and small smile, but you still held eye contact as you shook your head, arms dropping to your sides. “I don’t know…” 

“Why not?” He didn’t seem mad or upset at your soft-spoken words, just genuinely curious and a little confused. 

The answer to why you’d been so hesitant didn’t finally feel obvious until this moment. It was a thought that lingered deep down inside of you and seemed better left unsaid, better left avoided. It was also a thought that contradicted everything you felt, but it somehow still existed. You really didn’t want to say it aloud, though.

You were about to shift off of him as a way to avoid answering the question, and to also maybe shut down the conversation altogether and change it to something else. But, Steve’s hands stayed on your hips, keeping you in place. 

You let yourself meet his gaze again, the questioning look written across his face was clear as he spoke again. “Why not?”

You still didn’t want to answer, but simply looking at him for a few moments made you feel like you really could answer honestly. He was the only person that you knew you could tell anything to and it would always end up being okay, and you fully leaned into that thought. 

“I think I’m…” You started and then immediately trailed off because you suddenly felt dumb for the way you felt and what you were about to say. However, you also quickly decided not to shy away from finally saying it. “I think I’m scared.” 

“Scared of what?” Steve asked softly, and you had to look away from him then because it was easier to answer the question with your gaze settled on something else.

“That you’ll change your mind. That you’ll decide that I’m actually not what you want,” You said, feeling the urge to try and run away again, but you didn’t, you couldn’t. “And I’m scared that I’ll be too fucked up from that rejection to let things go back to how they were with us. And then our friendship will be ruined, and everything with everyone else will get messed up too.” You let out a sigh as you shook your head. “And I know that it doesn’t make sense to think that because things have been so good between us, somehow nearly fucking perfect. But, I still do.”

You forced yourself to meet his eyes again and the look that crossed his face affected you completely. He shook his head at you. “I wouldn’t have said anything about how I was feeling if I thought for a second that I would change my mind. There isn’t any question about it. I want this. I want you. I want us.” His hold dropped from your hips and instead, he found your hands, intertwining them with his and giving them a light squeeze. “It’s always been you. And it always will be you.”

A series of knocks on the front door broke you both out of the seriousness of the moment, out of the conversation entirely, and you didn’t get a chance to respond or even fully think of what you wanted to say before you were looking at the shut door and starting to move out of Steve’s lap.

His words did a thousand things to you right then. You believed them entirely and they eased away your fears and made you feel okay— better than okay, actually. Instead of verbally responding with anything, you wanted to simply lean in and slot your lips against his. Actual words didn’t feel like they’d do enough to coherently sum up what was going through your head at that moment. 

I believe you. I’m certain that you’re it for me too. I love you. It’s always been you. I never want this to change. I trust you, completely. You’re so fucking important to me. You’re the most important person to me. I love you. 

Your mind was a jumble of disorganized thoughts that all basically said the same thing, and you knew that a kiss would be able to succinctly say all of that and then some. And maybe Steve could already see what was going on in your head because there was no one else who could see through you as easily as he could, even when your thoughts were in such a chaotic state— you honestly didn’t think that there was anyone that could read you that well at all.

The knock came again and you fully stood up and he followed suit. 

“I’ll… I’ll get it,” You told him as you headed toward the door, but then something abruptly switched inside of you and you were turning around and walking back over to him. You pushed up on your toes and let your arms circle around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. How quickly his arms wrapped around you made you smile into his neck as you spoke. “I really love everything you just said. And I wish we weren’t being interrupted right now because we should talk about it more. But, I want you to know that I feel the same exact way as you. I promise. And it’ll never change either. And now I’m just rambling, but yeah.”  

Your rushed words were quiet and slightly muffled but you could tell by how Steve was holding you tighter and kissing the side of your head that he heard you clearly. Another knock sounded at the door, which made you pull away from each other and you finally went to open it. 

“Jesus, finally,” Robin said as she walked in. “We need to talk to you guys about something.”

“What’s going on?” You asked, directing your question at both her and Eddie, who was walking in right behind her.

He held up his hands in a sort of mock surrender. “This was all Robin’s idea so I’m gonna let her take the reins.”

You looked at Steve and he gave you a half-shrug, seemingly just as confused as you were in this moment. 

Robin took a few steps into the living room and then turned toward you and Steve. 

“Can you two sit on the couch, please?” She asked, and instead of questioning her and what was even happening in this moment, you both decided to just listen and follow her current antics. 

“Why does this feel like an intervention?” You asked as you settled on the couch. 

She nodded. “Because it is.”

Steve was about to say something, but she interrupted him before he could. “Don’t even ask why this is happening right now. We know something’s wrong between you guys. It’s been weeks since you two hung out with all of us at the same time. We see you one night.” She pointed at Steve and then pointed at you. “And then we see you at the next group thing, and it’s starting to get really weird because usually you guys are attached at the hip. Clearly, you’re avoiding each other because you’re in some sort of a fight or something, so we’re here to help you resolve whatever it is.”

For the most part, she was right— you and Steve had been avoiding each other like the plague around your friends, it just made keeping the secret from everyone easier— and it probably shouldn’t have been too surprising that Robin and everyone else thought that something was wrong between you two. Even in this moment, you and him were sitting on opposite ends of the couch because it had subconsciously felt like the right thing to do in front of them. Now thinking about it, everything you two had been doing around them did seem really weird because you’d never been like that before.  

“Depending on whatever this fight is about, my advice will probably be shit, so yeah, just putting that out there,” Eddie said from where he was in the kitchen, grabbing a soda from the fridge. “I’m mainly here just because Robin needed a ride and I wanted to see Harold.” 

“My advice, on the other hand, will be great so tell me everything,” Robin said.

You shook your head. “We’re not in a fight.” 

“Okay…” She said, entirely unconvinced by your words. “Then, what’s been going on with you guys?” 

“There’s nothing—” Steve started, but you immediately interrupted him.

“We’re dating.”

It was impulsive, but it surprisingly didn’t feel as such— it honestly felt like the only right thing to do right then. As soon as the two simple words, that you knew would change everything, fell from your lips, you didn’t feel an ounce of regret; you more so felt complete relief. And you now also completely understood why Steve had wanted to say it sooner. You turned to look at him and gave him a small smile and he returned it with a happy one of his own. 

Robin’s eyes widened a bit. “No way.” 

“Holy shit,” You heard Eddie’s surprised voice in the kitchen. He was then leaving his soda on the counter and moving to stand next to Robin. “Really?”

“Yes,” Steve answered with a nod and wider smile. “We’re together, and it’s getting very serious. She’s obsessed with me.”

You rolled your eyes and shifted closer to him so that you could playfully poke his side. “Oh, shut up. You’re definitely way more obsessed.”

He grabbed your hand, intertwining it with his and then pressing a quick kiss against the back of yours. “Okay, yes, I’ll admit that I’m also very obsessed.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you for being honest.”

“Wow, this is kind of adorably sickening,” Robin said, laughing a bit. 

Eddie smiled. “Congratulations on you both finally pulling your heads out of your asses so this didn’t actually take twenty years to happen.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Twenty years?”

“Wait,” Robin jumped in before Eddie could address your confusion. “When did this happen?”

“Last month. During the ski trip,” You answered. It somehow still felt like only yesterday to you, even though so much had happened since then.  

“March,” Eddie nodded and then looked as if he was trying to remember something. He then looked at Robin once it seemed like the thought hit him. “Shit, we owe Max and El five bucks.”

Steve looked at him, confused. “What? Why?” 

“We all maybe, kinda, made a bet at the beginning of the year....” Robin started to explain. “We took guesses about when you two would finally get together.”

“What?” It was impossible to hide your surprise, but you also kind of wanted to laugh because of how insane that sounded. “When did you guys do that?”

“At the New Year’s dinner you guys set up here,” She said, and that only surprised you further. You thought back to that night and couldn’t remember anything seeming any different.

“How were we so oblivious to this?” Steve asked, voicing the question that was now on your mind too. 

“When we were doing it you two were in your own little platonic married couple world. Like usual,” Robin explained with a simple shrug as she settled next to you on the couch. “Dustin wrote down everyone’s guess.” 

“Oh, Dustin’s gonna go insane about this,” Eddie laughed. “We should call and tell him right now.”

He was already walking over to the kitchen where the phone was before any of you could say anything.  

You shook your head. “He’ll be fine. I don’t think this is that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s the biggest deal,” Robin responded. “The mom and dad of the friend group finally getting together is huge.” 

Steve gave your hand a light squeeze at that and you smiled, leaning further into him. 

At first, the whole bet thing sounded insane to you; now you were just curious. “What were everyone’s guesses?” 

“I can’t fully remember, but I said never because I honestly didn’t think that you two would finally do this, Eddie said twenty years, and everybody else said some other months. I know Max and El said March… Oh, and I know Dustin said February because ‘it’s the month of love,’” She laughed a bit.

“I did realize how I felt in February, so I guess he was half right,” Steve told her.  

“How did you realize it?”

You had heard the full story from him a few weeks ago when you two were in your bedroom— you quickly got into a habit of always sleeping in each other’s beds instead of only sometimes doing it like before; sleeping apart became a rarity. It was sometime around one in the morning when you were randomly asking him how it all hit him and he told you the exact things that had gone through his head that morning when he realized everything. You were shyly smiling practically the entire time he spoke because it was the sweetest story you’d ever heard, and then you were kissing him until you both finally fell asleep. 

“It’s a long story, but it just suddenly felt so fucking obvious,” Steve said, answering Robin’s question and she smiled at that. 

All of your attention turned in Eddie’s direction as you heard him start talking on the phone. “Dustin, hey, big news." There was a short pause. "Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, it’s good news. So, they’ve been acting so weird these past couple weeks because they’re fucking dating! Finally!" Another pause and then Eddie let out a scoff. "Of course, I’m not lying,” He told the teen on the other end of the line. Dustin said something else and Eddie laughed and then looked over at you and Steve. “He wants to talk to you guys.”  

“Should we be scared?” You asked as you stood up from the couch and started walking into the kitchen, following a beat behind Steve. 

He nodded. "Probably, yes."

Eddie handed the phone to him and he placed it at his ear. “Hey.”

It was almost too easy to hear the shock in the teen’s voice even though you weren’t that close to the phone. “I can’t believe you’re telling me this over the phone. Also, I can’t believe it was Eddie saying it instead of you guys.” 

“Dustin, you’re being overdramatic,” Steve said.  

“This should’ve been a sit-down moment. This feels just as important as if you two were telling me you were getting married.” 

You sighed. “Dustin…” 

“Wait, are you guys getting married?” 

You leaned in closer to Steve so that Dustin could hear you. “No, we’re not getting married.” 

You could hear Robin and Eddie laughing on the couch. 

“Okay, well, when you do, I expect you to tell me that in person.” 

“Of course,” Steve playfully joked. “In fact, you’ll be at the proposal. I promise you’ll see it happen live.”

You laughed a bit. “Yeah, you can have a front-row seat. I’m completely okay with that.” 

“Do not joke about that shit,” He said, and it felt almost impossible not to laugh at how serious he sounded. “Wait, so when did this happen? When did you guys get together? Was it February?” 

“No, it was last month,” Steve told him. “So, apparently, Max and El win the bet that Robin and Eddie just told us about.” 

“Shit,” Dustin sighed. “I wanna hear everything about how this all happened later; in person. Oh, and since you guys didn’t tell me yourselves, can I tell everyone else?”

“Sure, that’s fine,” You said with a shrug and then repeated your words from earlier. “This really isn’t that big of a deal.” 

Dustin simply scoffed and you could practically hear him shaking his head. “Oh, it’s a huge deal.” 

Steve let out a laugh. “That’s exactly what Robin said.” 

“What did I say?” Robin yelled from the couch.

“That this is a huge deal,” Steve answered her.  

“And it is!” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

something that has bothered me about tua seasons 2-4 is the inconsistency of the relationships between the siblings.

starting with klaus, in season 1 ben and diego were his people. ben and klaus were always shown together in the flashbacks to them as kids and obviously every second of the show because klaus was the only one who could see him. but like… they were CLOSE. SO FUCKING CLOSE. they were the most SIBLINGS of all the siblings.

that continued into season 2. ben was randomly a bit colder towards klaus but they were still so fucking close.

and then ben left, and klaus for the first time was alone without his person. everyone else lost a brother when they were 17, except klaus. so he had to grieve ben for the first time. that didn’t happen, though. there were many nods to them being close, and then of course steve blackman pulled a steve blackman which means weird unnecessary incest implications, but it wasn’t clear just how close klaus and brellie ben were even though it had to be hard to be around someone who looked like ben and was kind of ben but also wasn’t ben.

and with diego, it also seemed like he and klaus were incredibly close. diego older-brothered klaus constantly s1 and they gave off the impression that they ran into each other a lot in the city during the years since leaving the academy.

then they completely disregarded it for the rest of the seasons. in s2 and s3 there a few interactions that could lend credence to this but for the most part it seemed like they threw it out the window.

allison and klaus had no clear relationship in season 1. they had some incredibly minor sibling interactions but nothing that indicated they were anywhere near as close as they imply in season 4. season 2 they were close and then season 3 not a lot of interaction. but s4 makes it seem like they have always been incredibly close which doesn’t make sense!!

five and viktor have a relatively consistent friendship, although s4 doesn’t really give viktor any relationship development with his siblings. same with five, if anything he just gets his relationships destroyed but that’s a different post!!

allison and viktor also are pretty consistently close. the implication is that they weren’t as kids but that they really try to be as adults, and i do like their relationship overall.

luther and allison nasty ew kill it with fire. like i thought we established in s2 that incest is weird actually and that we weren’t doing that and then season 3 came along and whatever whatever shut up.

diego and luther’s relationship is fun. they go from adversaries to himbo besties and it’s relatively consistent.

luther and viktor have similar growth. luther goes from piece of shit basically causing the apocalypse s1 because of how shitty he was to viktor towards really wanting to make things right and being the big brother he always should have been. they didn’t really have a relationship s4 but WHATEVER.

i feel like five and luther were together a lot the first two seasons and that very much changed. i’m not even that upset as i think five having character arcs with each sibling is good since he missed so many years with them (other than him and viktor they were always close and should have remained that way).

i think allison and diego and viktor and diego having relationship development would have been cool. in the comics viktor and diego have a band so we know they’re friends. and in the show allison and diego don’t have too many interactions but the ones they do have are SOOOO SIBLING and i adore that.

ben and viktor have some closeness s3-4 (and the end of s2) but it’s not really something we see, more so we’re just told. and then random flashback to them hanging out as kids before the mission which was confusing.

i think five and klaus were done the dirtiest with the relationship inconsistency. i understand wanting different characters to have arcs with different people, but when you sacrifice the established relationships and basically put your characters on shuffle then you also sacrifice character consistency, development, growth, etc.

i think a big problem is how many characters they brought on last season. there wasn’t time for consistent relationships among the brellies when they had to use a shit ton of time building new characters and relationships (and immediately killing them all off which was A Choice).

anyway just wanted to write out thoughts about this. would love to know other people’s thoughts (or headcanons about the siblings).

[lesservillain]

inmate!eddie munson x reader

cw: SMUT, henry creel is your ex, a threat of violence, divorce talk, baby talks

July 26th, 1996

“It’s been a whole year,” you turn the radio down to better get Eddie’s attention, “we should go out or something! I know everyone was busy tonight, but let me take you to like Enzo’s. Or Benny’s even.”

Eddie leaned for the knob, turning the radio up again. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he yells over the music, banging his head around and tapping his legs along with the beat. “All I need to celebrate is you and whatever that new little number is that you’re hiding under those clothes.”

You turn to him, cheeks feeling hot as you’ve been caught. The smug look on his face annoyed you, “How do you know I’m wearing something new?”

He hums with a smirk. “I saw your bra strap when you were messing with it earlier,” he says as if it was obvious, “I know what your bras look like, didn’t recognize it.”

“You’re insane,” you laugh as you pull into Steve’s empty driveway. 

“Hey, not insane, just very observant of the things that are important to me,” he unbuckles his seatbelt, hoping out of the car and trotting over to your side to open your door for you. It was one of your favorite quirks of his, especially because the looks on peoples faces in public when a rough, six foot tall man covered in tattoos opens the driver door for his girlfriend are priceless. 

As you start walking to the front door you notice Eddie isn’t behind you, still standing next to the car with an unreadable expression on his face. Normally it wouldn’t bother you since he spaces out every once and a while, mostly when he’s nervous or upset you’ve come to find. But, he’s been acting like this for the last couple of days and it’s starting to concern you.

Your morning drives to drop him off at work have been quiet compared to the usual lively talks you two have. He’s also been staying at work later, calling you to pick him up close to sundown as the summer has gone on. One night he told you he was too tired for you to come over and was going to have Steve pick him up. When you tried to bring it up, he just brushed it off saying that he was just tired from repairing the A/Cs for half of Hawkins cars.

“Eddie?” You ask gently. 

He looks at you for a brief moment, eyes barely meeting yours before he starts walking down the driveway. “G-go ahead, I’m gonna grab the mail.”

“Okaaaay,” you say to yourself. 

When you enter the Harrington residence, you find it to be dead quiet, which is to be expected since Robin and Steve both had plans for tonight. But, what struck you as odd was that they had left several lights on…

Eddie came through the door a few moments later, his full attention on the stack of mail he’s flipping through. 

“Anything good,” you joke, unsure why he’s so laser focused on junk mail. He walks past you, setting all but one envelope on the counter. 

“Oh, uh, no-,” his voice is shakey, and you can tell his breathing is off.

“Hey are you-”

“Hey, look at this!” He waves the envelope in his hand, finally giving you his attention. “This says it’s to ‘Mrs.Munson,’ isn’t that weird?”

You reel back, head shaking at the confusion. “Eddie, I thought you said your mom passed? Why would she get mail here?”

He shook his head, “No, it can’t be for her. My mom and dad never got married, so this wouldn’t be for her anyway.”

“What the hell?” You’re totally confused now, “Open it and see what it says?”

He nods, taking particularly good care not to rip the envelope too much. You feel like you’re in an episode of the twilight zone between the letter and his odd behavior today. He pulls out the contents of the envelope, which looks like a single folded piece of notebook paper. He opens it, and you can clearly see the shaking in his hands now. You’re suddenly hit with a wave of realization. 

“Eddie, is that from your dad?” You ask, placing a hand on his arm. He won't even look at you, he just hands you the paper for you to read. 

The first thing you see is your name. 

“What the-”

“Please read it.”

You look at him, but he refuses to make eye contact, body shifting with a nervousness you’ve never seen before with him. When you look at the paper again, you recognize the sloppy handwriting.

Hi, sweetheart. You’re probably really confused right now reading this, and I know I gotta be a nervous wreck right now as I watch you. After a year of spending almost every day with me you’d probably agree that I’m not afraid to say whatever I’m thinking out loud. But, I wanted to go back to our roots for this. 

There are times where I’ve wished things were different. Where I could have the time that I lost in that jail cell back. I just wanted to do something for Wayne, but I would have rather had those years to spend with him instead. I missed out on a lot with the kids, and I was sure that the CC boys were gonna kick me out for ruining our chance to make it big. 

But if there’s one thing I can say made it worth it was you. You showed me that I can still be loved after all that I’ve been through. You didn’t know me before, but you put everything you believed in aside to give me a chance and I don’t think I could ever express how much that means to me. But I want you to give me the opportunity to try for the rest of our lives. Sweetheart, will you marry me?

As you read that last sentence, you notice your body starts to shake. Nervously, you lift your eyes from the paper, and in the time you were reading Eddie had managed to get down on one knee in front of you. 

“Oh my god,” it comes out shakey with a nervous laugh. You have to wipe the tears away as they cloud your vision to admire the ring he’s presented to you. The two of you have never talked about rings before, and yet he managed to pick the perfect one. 

Your teary eyes meet his. Those big, chocolate buttons look at your full of hope. It makes your knees weak. You shake your head, “Yes, Eddie. Holy shit, yes.” You let yourself fall into him, arms wrapping around his neck. He squeezes you tight, and you can feel the air leave his lungs as he sighs in relief. 

Time feels like it’s still in that moment. Since day one Eddie has made you feel more loved than you ever have in your life. It’s not that you never imagined a life married to Eddie, quite the contrary. You wish you had a dollar for every night that you’ve counted the freckles on his face, wishing that you’d been doing this with him instead of laying back to back with your husband for nearly 10 years. But, the two of you hadn’t talked about getting married. Not seriously that is. He would joke at home, calling you his wife, “Mrs.Munson”,“baby momma,” the latter you thought was because of how much of The Maury Show you two watched together on your days off. Now it felt like a serious conversation you would need to have, a pin to later be pulled. 

The sudden sound of the shades moving over the sliding door pulled you out of the moment, and you realize the door was slightly opened. Then, a loud voice from the backyard yells, “GUYS I’M PRETTY SURE SHE SAID YES!” Followed by a symphony of cheers and whistles. When you pull away from Eddie, he’s beaming so bright it’s blinding. And suddenly the sliding door is pushed open and your friends begin pouring in, cheering and congratulating as they enter. Eddie stands as everyone piles in, pulling you up with him. The train of embraces begins as Robin clamps you in with a bear hug. Steve joins in, wrapping the both of you in a big embrace filled with giggles.

You look over and see Eddie and Wayne hugging it out. Wayne’s patting his back, laughing about something Eddie must have said. The kids and his band boys stand around them waiting for their turn. When Robin and Steve finally let you breathe again, Max and Jane are next to congratulate you. 

Max sticks out her own hand, showing you a ring on her finger. “Lucas asked me a couple months ago,” she gushed. You grabbed her hand and admired the ring, it wasn’t over the top, very subtle to fit her personality. “I couldn’t tell you though, Eddie was too nervous that he wouldn’t be able to hold off asking if you knew.”

“Oh my god, Max, that’s amazing,” you pulled her in again, swaying her side by side excitedly. You looked over to Lucas, giving him a cheesy thumbs up that made him blush and shake his head. 

Next is Nancy and Elanor, with Jonathan standing just behind them. Nancy’s belly pushes into you as she pulls you in for a tight hug, Elanor wrapping her arms around you from the opposite side. 

Then it was Wayne’s turn for hugs next, Eddie finally letting him go after giving him a “Let me go boy, gotta congratulate the newest Munson!” When he pulls away, he leaves one arm around you in a half hug and leans in close, but still speaking loud enough for Eddie to hear. “Listen, if you change your mind let me know, I’ll distract him long enough for you to run.”

“Hey!” Eddie shouted over his friends, “Don’t give her any ideas over there, old man!”

After everyone finished making their rounds, the party migrated outside. Sitting around the fire, Eddie kept you planted in his lap, arms wrapped around you tight. While you’re talking, you realize that everyone had managed to flawlessly pull one over on you. Not a single person even gave you the slightest idea what was happening today. 

“You don’t remember us looking at jewelry at the mall?” Nancy laughed. 

“Nance, that was like, what, 5 months ago?” You shook your head in disbelief, “I barely remember saying anything about what I like!”

“You didn’t have to,” she said with her arms crossed over her bump, “I just watched what you looked at, paid attention to what you scrunched up your nose to and what made your eyes go wide. Then, I reported back to Eddie and let him do the rest.” She nodded to Eddie, who looked bashful at the admission of his friend. 

“I picked it out on my own, though,” he said defensively. “Well, Lucas was there, but that was a coincidence.”

You just shook your head, leaning in to plant a kiss on his chapped lips. The whole night your head was swirling with excitement. There was the nagging voice in the back of your head reminding you what it was going to take for the two of you to make getting married possible, but you let yourself worry about that later. Tonight was about you and Eddie, and you made sure to let him know how much you were grateful for him.

“Ooooooh god —SHIT, fuck babe that mouth is-“

Pulling off of him with a pop, you roll your hand around his head and lick from base to tip, making his whole body shudder above you. His grip on your head only gets tighter as you let him sink as far into your mouth as you can handle. Taking his hands in yours, you place them on the side of your head, and when you look up into his eyes you can see his pupils swallow up the remaining brown, leaving two black orbs looking down at you. 

Everything with Eddie was so different, but the sex was on a completely different level for you. With him, sex didn’t feel calculated or like a chore. He was so giving all of the time, which took a while for you to get used to when you had gone so long measuring your worth based on being a pleaser. Once when Eddie ate you out and came in his pants, he was embarrassed, sure, but you had almost cried because you didn’t feel like you had deserved how good he made you feel. He wasn’t having that, though, making sure to let you know at every opportunity he could that just being with you was enough for him. 

“Fuuuuuuuck baby~ God your pretty mouth feels amazing,” he pushes himself all the way to the back of your throat, holding it for a moment. Tears sting at the corners of your eyes. His hands shift, one settling under your chin and the other gripping the top of your head. He slowly eased out, letting you take no more than a second to breathe before he starts bullying your throat again.

Drool is dripping down your chin, cheeks hollowing around him as he trusts. He uses his grip to pull you forward gently, bending you at the waist. Fully nestled in your throat again, Eddie bends down to grab a handful of your ass, smacking it to watch the recoil. You moan at the feeling, and his cock twitches in response. 

“Alright, gotta get you up here now or else I’m gonna bust,” he says as he pulls out of you abruptly, lifting you up from under your arms and tossing you into the bed. You eye him giddily as he tore the rest of his clothes off with reckless abandon, squealing when he pounces on you. Hot and heavy, his hands are all over your body, your fingers tangling in his grown out hair. You know what his next move is going to be, but before he can begin his descent you hold him in place. 

“Not, tonight” - kiss - “need you.” ne of your hands snakes down gripping his length, rubbing the tip against your aching clit, your body jumping at the feeling. His head rolls back, any protest dying on his tongue. 

“Shit, okay, anything you want, baby girl.” When he takes over for you, there’s a sudden tension as he lines himself with your entrance. He looks at you, and you look at him. Something about the heat of the moment that makes you want to give in to carnal desires, but before he can make a move you lean over, opening the drawer and pulling out the foil. You don’t miss the tight lipped smile he makes as you open it, but when your hands are on him as you slide the condom on, he seems to forget his qualms.

When he finally sinks into you, he doesn’t give you much warning before he’s going at the same brutal pace he had on your throat. “I’m never gonna get used to how good you feel,” the praises fall from his lips, each one stoking the flames inside you. Adding his thumb to your clit has you gasping, orgasm washing over you and leaving you seeing stars. 

The chorus of curses coming from Eddie paired with sloppy thrusts signaled his own release. He pulls out, throwing the condom away and flopping boneless beside you, face planting into the pillow. You laugh at his goofiness, still coming down from your own high with hearts in your eyes. Hearts for your fiancé. 

You sighed dreamily, taking one if his curls between your fingers, longer now in the year you’ve spent together. His head turned slightly, one eye peeking out looking at your hand. He stared for a moment, until he suddenly snapped his mouth at you, pretending to bite at your fingers. You pulled back your hand and burst into a fit of giggles. He took the opportunity to roll into you, acting like a monster and “attacking” your face with kisses.

“Stoooop you’re tickling me,” you say as you try to push him away. You have to pry his arms off of you so you can climb out of the bed, legs wobbling as you make your way to the bathroom. He reaches out to smack your ass as you do, you flip him off in return.

When you came back to the bedroom Eddie had his pajama pants back on, and was sitting up in the bed with a look on his face that made you worry.

“What’s wrong,” you question, his head snapping up to you like you’d scared him. He shook his head innocently.

“Nothing’s wrong, Sweetheart,” he stuck his arms out in your direction, making fun of the needy way you beckon him to bed most nights. You weren’t falling for it. 

“Edward James Munson, don’t lie to me,” your hands are on your hips, standing naked in the doorway. He gulps at the use of his full name. You’re not really sure how to decipher that reaction with the way his body straightened, but that’s something you’d save in your mind for later. 

“It’s nothing,” he exhales, shoulders falling, “I just figured, ya know, with us getting married now that we, I don’t know, we would maybe stop with the, uh, condoms…” His voice trails off at the end but you still heard him loud and clear. Grabbing Eddie’s shirt he had tossed aside at the beginning of the night, you climbed into the bed next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He returned the sentiment, kissing your temple before placing his chin on top of your head. “I’m sorry, if it's not something you’re ready for-“

“No, you’re right,” you take his hand and squeeze, “I really only wanted to use them for precaution sake. Not that I thought you were dirty or anything. And I got tested after I found out Henry was cheating, so I knew I was clean, too. It’s — I just figured it was the right thing to do? Right?”

Eddie wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer with a chuckle. “Sweetheart, I think you miss understood. I’m not offended that you want to use condoms, I promise. I was more so talking about…” he shifts a bit, “I meant like, you know, trying for a b-baby.”

A cold chill makes goosebumps rise on your skin. You knew it was coming, knew that you’d have to pull that pin, but you weren’t expecting it to be tonight, not so soon.  

Your silence makes Eddie even more nervous, “I mean, only if you want to have kids. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just, you know, with me turning thirty one, I thought that sooner would be better than later...” 

Eddie bringing up his age only reminded your own clock was ticking, too. But, even though your clock ticks, the hands don't move. 

It was something that you had to face by yourself for a long time, since Henry didn’t seem to feel the need to comfort you, rather ridicule you for your inability to do the “one thing you were meant to do” according to him. When you finally did get pregnant, only for it to end too soon, Henry only made you feel worse. 

After a while you convinced yourself to stop caring.

Now you feel like maybe it never happened for a reason, rationalizing that your body was just protecting you from being permanently attached to the bastard. Thinking that way helped heal some of the hurt, but deep down you knew something had to be wrong with you. 

“Eddie, why do you think Henry and I never had any kids?”

He stills for a moment, unable to see his face to gauge his emotions.  When he responds, his voice has a hint of uncertainty.

“Uh, I honestly didn’t really think about it. I try not to think about you with anyone else, like, ever if I’m being honest.” You gave him a slap on the leg, making him turn his lower half away from you playfully. “If I had to guess, it’s got something to do with him. You like kids way too much for it to have been a you problem.”

Your lip wobbles, because he’s not wrong. You became a teacher for a reason, and you’ve enjoyed the times you’ve gotten to spend with your nephews and Nancy’s daughter. It only makes the lump in your throat feel thicker when you realize you have to say the next words out loud. 

“Eddie,” his name comes out strained, “I don’t think I can have kids.”

And then the dam breaks. Sobs wrack your body, both with tears of sorrow and a sense of catharsis as you can finally come to terms with what you’ve been harboring inside for so long. But the tears aren’t all for you, but for Eddie, too. Tears of guilt, knowing that you were broken, hoping that maybe he didn’t want kids and it would be a non-issue. But that’s not fair. You should have brought it up sooner. Would he even want to be with you if you couldn’t have his kids? Would he just look for someone else, too?

Eddie is immediately in comfort mode, pulling you into him more as he lets you cling to him, chest wetting with the tears falling from your eyes. He doesn’t push you to stop, just rocks with you as you let out your grief. 

When you finally start to calm down, he’s pulling you away so he can look at you, thumbs wiping away the tears that still sit on your cheeks. He tells you to take some deep breaths, feeling better once you do. 

“I hope those tears aren't from you thinking I’d be upset or something,” he said, eyes flickering back and forth between yours. “Because I’m not, and I hope I didn’t come off that way-“

“No! God, no Eddie,” you say shaking your head, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms, “no, I just, I mean— I want to be able to give you kids, if you want them. Really bad, actually. But it’s not a matter of wanting, it’s a literal “I don’t think I can” thing. I only ever got pregnant one time our entire marriage and I ended up miscarrying…“

“Oh my god, that’s terrible,” his big eyes are filled with sympathy for you. “Nance and Jonathan had one a couple months before she got pregnant with Ellie. Nancy was a wreck, and I should have been there for her. But it happened the same week as Wayne’s heart attack, and I couldn’t leave him. It was a cluster fuck of a week.”

You were shocked to hear about Nancy. You’d become pretty close in the last year but she’d never brought it up before. Not that you’d ever mentioned yours to her, either, but you’d never have guessed. Her daughter, Elanor, had become your little buddy at the Harrington get togethers when everyone was drunk, finding a 4 year old to be more entertaining than a slew of belligerent adults.

“But, uh, you did say you got pregnant, right?” He asked with a smile. You nod. “See, that’s a good sign then. It can still happen. Maybe you're only compatible with Munson DNA.” 

His optimism wraps around you like a blanket, and for the moment you let yourself believe he might be right. Even if it’s going to hurt in the future. 

“So, you’re not going to leave if I can’t have a baby…” You don’t make eye contact with him as you say it. He grabs your chin, lifting your head to make you look at him in the eyes. 

“Hey, I’d be happy to get a pet rock with you if that’s what you want. We could try and raise some house plants together, but I’m telling you now that when I tried to grow my own weed it didn’t work out well.”

You slide down the bed with a groan, unable to hide the way Eddie’s words have affected you. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of your chest. To finally get it out there, and feeling confident enough to believe Eddie’s words that he wants to stay with you anyway is an indescribable relief. 

He leans over to smother you with kisses again before sliding down himself, pulling you into him once more. 

September 14th, 1996

Of all days, it would rain today. 

Almost a month ago you had Henry served with divorce papers. You’d taken care of everything, making sure all he had to do was sign. You foolishly assumed that it would be something he’d be on top of, considering it’s been over two years since you’ve been separated. Meaning it's been two years since him and the girl he cheated on you with became official. He married you pretty quickly, and you’d figured he would want to do the same to her before she could get wise and leave.

But, here you are. Knocking on your old front door in the rain to confront your husband on why he insists on making things more difficult for you. 

“Coming!” You hear a chipper voice call from inside. You roll your eyes, because of course she has to be here, too. The door swings open, and her face lights up with excitement when she sees you. 

“Oh my gosh, hi!” She squeals, stepping aside to let you in. 

“Hello, Missy.” You were trying to avoid looking at her, the sound of her voice was enough to grate at your eardrums. But when she stepped to the side, your eyes were immediately drawn to the large bump under her sweater. You just stared at her, unmoving, unsure how to process what you’re feeling in the moment. 

“Who’s at the door, dear?” 

You hear his voice call from another part of the house. It snaps you out of your trance, the anger you were trying to keep at bay boiling up again. You walk inside, heading into the kitchen, leaving Missy to follow behind you. 

“Henry,” you cross your arms as you stand in the entryway of the kitchen. Henry’s head snaps up from the book he’s reading, eyes wide when he sees you, wearing the same face as the day you confronted him about his infidelity. 

“Ah, what a surprise,” he tries to recover, putting on the mask of arrogance he always wears. “How nice of you to stop by.”

You roll your eyes at his faux pleasantries, maintaining your stance in the doorway. “I’m sure you know why I’m here,” you cut to the chase, not wanting to draw this out any more than necessary. 

“Are you here for lunch? I just got breakfast put away so you may have to wait a little while, but I’m making chicken salad!” Missy walks past you, grabbing Henry’s mug and refilling it with coffee. It makes your skin crawl as you watch. She brings the cup back to him, something that you’ve done many times over, now the thought only makes you cringe. 

“Darling, why don’t you go rest your feet? I’m sure your stories should be on soon,” Henry kisses her hand. Missy nods excitedly, leaving the room with a wave to you as she does. As soon as she’s gone, the air in the room is sucked away with her. The facade has fallen, Henry’s face morphing into an all too familiar scowl. 

“I’m assuming you’re here because of the paperwork you so graciously had served to me,” he stands from his seat at the table, moving around to walk towards you slowly. 

“Your assumption would be correct.” 

He peered down at you, blue eyes darkening from the shadow of the bridge of his brow. The intensity of his stare almost made you falter, but you’d been practicing for this, in case he tried to size you up like he’d done for years. You doubled down, remaining still as stone even when he’s only mere inches away. You weren’t afraid of his disappointment anymore.

His lips curled into a smile when he noticed you weren’t folding, nodding his head with a small “hmph.” 

“You never returned my call, you know.” Your eyes rolled at his dismissiveness. Huffing out a sigh, you decided to at least entertain him a little bit. He was only going to keep on with this if you didn’t.

“Didn’t have anything to say,” you shrug. 

He takes a step back with a slight bow, looking towards the ground, “I see. Was there perhaps a reason why?” He straightens up again, the corners of his lips pulling into a tight grin, “Too busy with another man’s dick down your throat to try and work it out with your husband, perhaps?”

You reel back, completely put off guard by his words. 

“And a felon’s at that? Honey,” his tone is condescending, and you feel your fortitude slipping, “you know if you were that desperate you should have just come home.” 

Your blood runs hot with every word he speaks. “But I guess you felt the need to prove something to me, or yourself. Doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that I’m not going to be signing those papers.”

Your hands shook, balled at fists by your side. You wanted to swing one, punch him right in his pathetic face and give him a taste of his own medicine. But you couldn’t, you knew that’s exactly what he wanted. And you couldn’t risk the cops showing up with Eddie outside waiting in your car. Henry would absolutely try and pin it on him to get him back in jail. All just to spite you.

Taking a deep breath in, you straighten up, giving him a smug look as you lean against the door frame. “That’s fine, you don’t have to sign them. But, and you may want to listen very carefully to me when I say this. I’m going to make your life a living hell if you don’t.”

The devilish smile on his face drops in an instant, morphing into a sneer. 

“If you actually read the paper in full, which you clearly haven’t,” you see his eyes dart to the side to an envelope on the counter, likely the one he was served with, “I stated in my filing that the divorce was mutual. That I wanted nothing from you, and if there was no issue with you signing, then we could both walk away from each other with our dignity. But,” you raise your brows, lips tugging into a forced frown, “if you want to play this game, then let's play. The divorce is going to go through anyway, and I’m sure you know that. You also probably know that adultery doesn’t have much leverage in the state of Indiana. But…”

“But?” 

You wonder if it’s the tone that you’re speaking to him in, or if it’s the fact that you’re standing up to him for the first time in your entire marriage that’s making him fume to the point he’s speaking only through gritted teeth.

“But, it doesn’t look very good when you’re using our combined finances to pay for the two of you to go to,” you use your fingers to count as you talk, “Hawaii, Italy, Mexico, which I heard really nice things about the resort the two of you went to. Um, where else, Cancun I think? You also shouldn’t have used the bank account to buy her nice new car that’s parked out in the driveway, which you put in her name for some stupid reason. Didn’t think about that because you paid in full for it, did you? You also probably didn’t know that I still have the ability to ask for the statements for that account even though you closed it. That’s okay, I didn’t know either, but my lawyer is really good and gave me that little tip.”

If it were humanly possible, you know steam would be rolling out of his ears. You’ve never seen rage on him like this, and a couple years ago it would have scared the shit out of you. But you had the upper hand for once in this exhausting marriage, and you weren’t going to let up.

“That’s an awful lot of money that went towards your adultery, isn’t it? And you’d have to pay all of that back to me, on top of at least fifty percent of your liquid assets. Maybe more if I felt like telling them you kicked me to the curb to live in an apartment in the middle of the year when I wasn’t working. So, go head, don’t sign the papers. The person that the dick that you’re so concerned about me having down my throat is attached to and I are going to start looking for houses soon, and it would be amazing to pay cash for one. Hopefully you’d still have enough money to pay all your bills and raise a new baby, but that’s not really my problem.”

In an instant he’s backing you into the wall next to the entryway. It happened so fast you didn’t have time to react, only watching as his fist began to rear back. A million scenarios run through your head in the seconds you brace yourself for impact. Funny enough, you’re more worried about Eddie. Because if you walk out of here with a black eye, you know there’s a possibility he’s going to jail for murder. Fully admitting to it, too.

It’s like slow motion as you watch his hand begin its descent towards you. Remembering what you read in a self defense book, you put your tongue at the roof of your mouth and clenched your teeth. Holding your breath, you wait.

But the blow doesn’t come.

“Henry!” you hear Missy’s sing song voice shout from your-- their bedroom. When you open your eyes, you see Henry frozen in place, crazed look in his eyes as his fist hovers next to his head. Your body tells you to move, in case he changes his mind. Run. Run. Run. 

But you’re more afraid of what he might do to her if you do. 

“Henry?” Her voice is closer now, and Henry jumps back. His eyes are on the hallway entrance as Missy waddles back into the kitchen.

“Oh, good you’re still here! I wanted to give you this,” she makes her way over to you, handing you a small envelope with your name on it in her handwriting.

“It’s an invitation!” she exclaims, waiting for you to take it. You stand there for a second, looking at Henry, whose face is unreadable at the moment, and then looking back to Missy. After a beat, you slowly take the envelope out of her hand. She claps excitedly when you do.

“Darling,” Henry’s tone is cautious as he addresses Missy. It reminds you of a zoo keeper approaching a lion in its cage. “That might not be a good idea.”

Her head tilts when she looks at him. “Why? You told me to invite whoever I wanted to the shower, Henry. I want her to come!”

What?

You open the little envelope, because there’s no way, right? This bitch didn’t just hand you an invitation to the baby shower for the baby of the man you’re still legally married to. Like you know she’s not the brightest, but this…

You bust out laughing as you read the card.

“This is a joke right? You’re just fucking with me to get a rise out of me, right,” you look at her incredulously.

“Huh? What do you mean,” she looks genuinely confused. It only makes you feel worse because she’s dead serious, and your hatred starts to morph into concern. Henry takes slow strides towards her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. The delicacy in his movements is something foreign for him, at least to your eyes. 

“Missy, dear, it’s not… not in good taste to invite her.” The way he speaks to her is not what you imagined. You were expecting him to talk to her like a child, slow and condescending like he tried to do with you. But he didn’t.

“In good taste? Henry, you told me I should try and make more friends. So I’m trying to make friends. I know she’s a lot older than me, but you and me get along even though you’re almost my dad’s age.”

Every word out of her mouth gave you whiplash, like being on a rollercoaster. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at this point, so you decided it would be best to just leave.

“Um, I will…let you know if I can go…later,” you start to back out of the kitchen, “I should probably go now, though. So, um, Henry,” He looks over to you out of the corner of his eye. You were expecting disgust as he looked at you, but instead he seemed…dejected? 

“I’m assuming that we’ve come to an understanding?”

He’s still for a moment, his eyes drifting back to Missy, “I’ll have everything taken care of tomorrow.”

Relief washed over you, your body easing up after all that had transpired. You gave him a curt nod, then turned on your heels and booked it towards the door. 

Just as you were turning the handle, you hear Missy call your name. She hobbles her way to you, and you try not to cringe as she opens her arms to you.

“Thank you for coming by today!” She wraps her arms around you. You let her get it out of her system. “Feel free to come over any time. Henry told me I don’t have to work anymore, so I have a lot of free time if you ever wanna hang out. Oh, would you wanna go with me to look at baby clothes? There’s a store at the mall I’ve been wanting to go to but haven’t had the chance to go yet.”

Every fiber in your being wants to tell her to fuck off, but you just feel sympathy for her instead. At least you have friends. You know Nancy, Robin, Max-- shit, even Steve would be begging you to take him shopping for baby stuff if you and Eddie ever have a baby. 

This whole situation feels like a sick joke to test you. Is this what you had to deal with just to have the happy life you wanted?

“I--Missy, mmm,” you’re battling yourself as you speak, brain exhausted from the last hour, “Missy, you don’t have any family that can go with you? Friends?”

“I have family, yeah, but all my siblings are younger. My mom died a couple years ago, so I basically had to raise my siblings myself while my dad worked all the time,” she said the last part came out with mere annoyance. As if being forced to raise your siblings wasn’t something that could be extremely traumatizing for a person. “And my friends are all way smarter than me, so they went to college in other states. I miss them a lot, but most of them don’t call me anymore. Actually, none of them call me…”

Fuck.

“Okay, you know what, fine. I’ll do it,” you spit out, feeling disappointed in yourself for caving in to her sob story, “I’ll go with you. I have some friends, one of them who has a kid on the way, too, who could probably help you. I’ll, um, talk to them and give you a call.”

She’s quiet for a moment, until she suddenly bursts into tears. You panic, not sure what you said wrong, until she trusts herself onto you again, hard belly pressing into yours as she hugs you. Her tears wet the corner of your shirt, and you pat her on the back. Looking up, you see Henry watching the interaction from down the hall. He shakes his head before going back into the kitchen.

“Oh, thank god,” Eddie yells from the car, pacing on the grass next to the sidewalk with a cigarette in his mouth, “I was about to call Hopper if you didn’t come out in the next ten minutes.”

You didn’t say anything, still trying to process everything that just transpired. You get a sick feeling in your stomach when you think about it too hard, so you just let yourself fall into Eddie, burying your face in his chest. Tossing his cigarette since he knows you don’t like the smell of the smoke, he wraps you up tight, kissing the top of your head. 

“Do we need to stop at the store for some treats on the way home? I’ll get your favorites,” his words wash over you like a waterfall of comfort, “And we can stop and get a couple movies. Maybe bother Robin and El for a little bit while they work?”

You smile against Eddie’s chest, remembering that everything you’re doing was because of him. When you look up at him, he wastes no time smooching you all over your face. He lets you vent to him in the car, not interrupting as you give him the play by play. You leave out the near miss with Henry, not wanting to stress Eddie out more. He already hated Henry enough as it is.

“Are you actually gonna take her to the mall,” Eddie looks at you with an open mouth smile, the whole situation with Missy just tickling him as you go on.

“Ugh, I feel like I should. I don’t know,” you groan, “What do you think?”

“Well, I want to say that you’re being too nice to the girl who was the downfall to your marriage. But,” he crosses his arms with a shrug, “I’m on her team because she’s technically the reason we’re together. Don’t do anything that would make you uncomfortable, but if you think it’s something that you can handle, go for it.”

Tears soak the front of your shirt as it covers your face, your body shaking silently as you lay curled into a ball on the couch. Eddie had fallen asleep hours ago, but you couldn’t. You were in your head, dissecting everything about your interaction with Henry. It all started when you started to feel guilt for leaving Missy there, knowing that Henry could be violent if he wanted to. But then you started thinking about how he acted around her. The softness in his touch, his gentle voice. He wasn’t even that sweet with you in the beginning of your relationship. 

The fact that he told her to make friends after convincing you to push all your friends away really got to you. Because he knew that if you told your friends the things he did to you that they would tell you to leave him. But he was encouraging her to make friends. Was he not abusing her like he did you? It didn’t seem like it. Missy might not be the brightest, but she also doesn’t seem like the type to not let it slip if Henry were to do something to her. 

But then you have to ask why is it different with her? Why did you never get his soft touch, his gentle voice? Was it just because she was pregnant? Did he even love you? 

“Sweetheart?”

Eddie’s voice startled you. The click of the lamp had you rushing to wipe away any evidence of your crying, but the sting of the fabric against your swollen eyes only confirmed that you were a mess. Eddie drops to his knees in front of the couch, face level with yours so you can see the way his eyebrows are pinched with concern.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, princess?” His hand caresses your cheek, thumb wiping away any straggling tears. You take a deep breath in, trying to regain your composure, but when you think about speaking your thoughts out loud your throat goes dry. The sadness bubbles up again, you can feel the damn ready to break the longer he looks at you with those big, brown sympathetic eyes. 

Without a word you watch through clouded vision as Eddie stands and walks back down the hall.

Oh, no. This is it. 

He’s finally realized that you have too much baggage. That he’s made a mistake and he’s gone to pack his bags to leave. He’ll tell you he’s going to Steve’s to let you cool off, and then he’ll call the next day and say that things aren’t going to work out after all.

And you wouldn’t blame him. You knew that there was no way someone as broken and unlovable as you would ever deserve someone like him. You should have told him no when he asked you to marry him. It’s for the best-

“Are you able to get up?” 

You blink away tears. You hadn’t even noticed that Eddie had walked back into the room. When you don’t respond after a moment, you feel his arms slip under your knees and shoulders, hoisting you up and pulling you into him. The sound of water running gets louder as he takes you down the hall, and when he pushes the bathroom door open with his foot, you realize that he’s filling up the bathtub, the only light coming from two candles sitting on the inner edge of the tub. He lowers you down, sitting you on the edge of the tub so he can test the temperature of the water with his hand.

“Is it okay if I undress you?” He asks as he wipes his hand off on the towel he’s set aside for you. You nod, still in a bit of shock at the tenderness he’s giving you. In the back of your mind you know that you shouldn’t be, that this is absolutely something he would do for you. But you’re still in the headspace that you’d learn to escape to when you were with Henry. You can’t comprehend being deserving of his kindness.

Every touch and manipulation of your body as he undresses you feels like he’s taking another layer from your body. Layers of guilt, shame, self hatred. Peeling away the last bit of shed that stuck to you from the bad conditions of the habitat you lived in for almost 10 years. He takes his hand in yours, admiring your ring, your new ring, that he gave you as a promise to love you for the rest of his life. A promise that you’ve heard before, but you wanted nothing more for it to be real this time. 

“Will you get in with me?” You don’t look at him, eyes on his hand that holds yours. But you hear him grin, a hum of satisfaction as he stands. 

“God, I thought you’d never ask,” he says as he pulls off his clothes with haste. You can’t help but giggle as he struggles getting his foot out of the leg of his sweatpants. His face lights up at the sounds of your laughter. He bends down to give you a kiss, soft and sweet, taking that last bit of sadness with him when he parts. 

November 10th, 1996

“Dustin’s house is in this neighborhood,” Eddie says as you drive slowly down the street, the both of you keeping an eye out for a “For Sale” sign. The realtor you’d been working with called you at six in the morning that day to tell you that this house had just gone on sale and it was yours and Eddie’s dream house. She had said the same thing about the 3 other houses she’d shown you, but to her defense you were being extremely picky. After being the only one to clean the house for as long as you did, you knew what was easy to maintain and what you absolutely weren’t willing to deal with. Eddie thankfully was on the same page after making it his responsibility to keep the 4 bedroom, 6 bathroom Harrington house in ship shape for the entire year he had lived there. So a single level home with at least 3 bedrooms was enough for the both of you.

“Awe, it would be nice to live close by for when he comes home to visit,” you’re taking in the other houses in the neighborhood as Eddie drives, trying to gather ideas for how you might decorate the front of your future home. 

“Being closer to Claudia would be nice, too,” he says as you slow to a stop at an intersection, “It would be easier to just walk to her house to mow the lawn instead of running across town.”

Driving a few more blocks down, the sale sign finally comes into view, your realtor’s minivan that you’ve come to recognize over the last month parked in the driveway. You pull in next to it, and immediately you’re happy to see a two car garage. The house looks promising from the outside, too. Dark brick, a small covered porch that could fit two chairs, a decent front yard with some space where you can plant some flowers; you could feel yourself getting excited and you hadn’t even left the car yet. Eddie opened your door, giving you a look as he holds his hand out for you to take it.

“What,” you match your smile to his, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” he keeps your hand in his as you close the car door.

“Whatever, Munson,” you tease, the two of you walking to the doorway of the house.

The door opens before you can even knock, Chrissy standing on the other side of the exterior glass door. You can tell by the look on her face that she’s very excited to show you the house, hands on her belly bump as she shuffles back and forth giddily. 

“Come in, come in,” she squeals as she pushes the door open, stepping to the side for Eddie and you to enter. “I watched you from the window and I can already tell this is the one. As soon as I saw the porch I knew you’d love it. But once I got to look around in here, I’m willing to bet you’re going to want to put an offer in.”

From what you can see from the doorway you were already impressed. The open concept living room and dining room was just big enough that you wouldn’t feel cramped, but not too big that you would hate to clean it. The large window brought in lots of light, making you think back to Eddie’s comment about house plants. Maybe it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.

As she showed you around the house more, you were checking off things on your list of needs at every turn. Three spacious bedrooms, master bathroom and a walk in closet, kitchen with an island. The backyard was even fenced in, and you were already mentally mapping how you would set up a garden. Everything was perfect for you, and the look on Eddie’s face makes you think it’s perfect for him, too.

“So,” Chrissy places elbows on the counter, looking at the both of you with big, blue eyes, “Are we putting the offer in today or what?”

Eddie looks at you with wide eyes and a toothy grin, his hand gives yours a squeeze. Your heart flutters at his eagerness. The three of you talk about putting in an offer. Of course there had to be a catch, which was the asking price being ten thousand more than your budget, but Chrissy said that the owners were out of state and just trying to get rid of the property so they didn’t have to keep maintaining it. After deciding on a price, you and Eddie go out to Benny’s afterwards to celebrate.

“Eddie, the house isn’t even ours yet,” you say as you listen to him go on about turning the garage into his music area for him and the boys to play.

“Yet,” he emphasizes, “I bet we’ll be in there before Christmas. Shit, maybe before Thanksgiving if they’ll let us. Not like they need to get anything out of there.”

“We’d still need to get furniture,” you’re trying to play devil’s advocate, mostly to keep from getting your hopes up.

“We can get furniture. And it’s not like you don’t have the essentials at the apartment. We don’t have to make everything perfect on day one.”

“Ugh, I hate when you’re right,” you lean back in your seat, failing at keeping your excitement at bay. “It’s a good thing we ran into Chrissy and James at the mall.”

“Jason,” he corrects as he shovels fries in his mouth, “and me, too. Didn’t think I’d ever be happy to run into Jason Carver again, but I guess fatherhood can change a man.”

“Or, maybe you were both just stupid teenagers back then, and now you’re in your thirties and more mature.”

“You callin’ me old, Mrs. Munson?” The two of you have only been engaged for four months but that didn’t stop him from thinking you were already his wife.

“So old,” you say sarcastically, “That’s why I’m only marrying you for your money.”

“I knew it,” he dropped his fork on the table, over exaggerating his reaction as he feigned outrage.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” you grin, “There is another thing I’m marrying you for.” You look at him through your lashes, biting your bottom lip. He drops his act when he understands what you’re getting at, leaning in close to you over the table.

“Just so you know, I thought about how I was going to fuck you in every room of that house.”

You felt heat rush immediately to your cheeks, shifting in your seat slightly. 

“I’m having a hard time imagining it, maybe you need to show me what exactly you’d do to me.”

And show you he did.

November 27th, 1996

Eddie thrusts into you from behind, his weight against your back as he presses you into the mattress beneath him. You were still coming down from your own orgasm just moments before when his movements began to falter. His moans in your ear are accompanied with the feeling of his cum filling you up inside for the third time tonight.

Thank god you have the next five days off for Thanksgiving break. There were still piles of boxes to unpack in your new home, but Eddie was determined to christen every room in the house and you were sure you’d need a few days to recover at the rate he was going, jumping you as soon as Steve and Robin left. 

He pulls out of you with a hiss. Hands still on your ass, he watches his cum begin to dribble out of you. “Can’t have that,” he chuckles, and you feel his thumb push the spend back into you, making you shutter. 

“Eddie,” you say with warning before he got any ideas. His thumb leaves you, but he gives your ass a smack before jumping off the bed. You’re envious of the stamina he has. 

He returns from the kitchen with a drink for you, laughing at the position you’ve put yourself in.

“Hey, Chrissy said it works,” you say with your pillow propped under your ass and your feet crossed pointing towards the ceiling, “and they’re about to have their fifth kid so I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he sets the glass on your bedside table next to a half unpacked box that he had distracted you in the middle of unpacking,“I’m not gonna argue with that. You want me to hold your legs for you, Mrs. Munson?”

“No, thank you,” you pat his side of the bed, “Just want you to lay with me, please.”

He trots to his side of the bed, plopping next to you on the mattress. He gives you a quick peck on the cheek before he mirrors you, crossing his legs and pointing them towards the ceiling.

“Alright, how long do we have to do this for?”

You roll your eyes at him, “At least 20 minutes.”

“Jesus Christ, 20 minutes? I’m already feeling the burn over here,” he puts his hands behind his thighs, determined to wait it out with you.

The two of you finally get settled under the covers, Eddie’s arms wrapped around you, his hands rubbing circles into your back. You bury your head in his chest to block the moonlight bleeding between the blinds, regretting not putting up the blinds before Eddie got to you. The up and down of his chest as he breathes is making your eyes feel heavy, sleep begins to take over you. 

“I love you.” 

His voice was low, quiet. Just for you to hear. 

You knew he meant it. Because he’s shown you his soft voice. His gentle touch. He’s shown you what love is supposed to feel like, not what you’ve been conditioned to believe it is. Every kiss on your face when you’re anxious and every sweet caress of your body when you’re writhing under him. Every fight that has had the both of you steaming where he puts your hand in his because he doesn’t want to go to bed mad. The way he talks about your future, where the both of you have grey in your hair and his mind wanders, only remembering your face

“I love you, too.”

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 3

Hello! I'm going to be posting this one straight through on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays until it's done. I've got three more chapters completed after this one. Though there maybe a small hiccup as I might finally be moving cross country. I will keep you posted.

Here we have Steve finishing up the last of the comments and he gets one visitor too many.

Part 1 Part 2

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve was sitting at the table with Mike. He had shown him how to make the tassels and handed him the leather strips to just let him go to town.

He was putting in the metal rings in the armholes of Mike’s tunic for the tassels to be tied to.

After awhile Mike looked up from his work. “What made you get into sewing?”

Steve looked up at him and just stared at him a moment. “I about to say the most rich boy sentence in existence and if you laugh at me, I won’t finish your tunic.”

Mike raised an eyebrow and then scoffed. “Whatever, man. You don’t have to tell me.”

"I got fascinated by it,” Steve explained, “when my mom took me to a tailor to get a suit made for me for my first piano recital when I was eight."

Mike’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“It was so interesting, dude,” Steve insisted. “I was more interested in it then the piano lessons.”

“Wait,” Mike said, “you play piano?” He screwed up his face confusion. “I didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I mean, I quit when I got to high school because it was at the same time as basketball and my dad wanted me focus on sports.”

Mike waved his hand at the tunic in Steve’s hand. “Piano wasn’t good enough for your dad, but sewing was?”

Steve barked out a bitter laugh. “There is no way in hell my parents know about this, dude.”

Mike reared back and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I sew by hand,” Steve explained, “because there is no way in hell my mom would let me use her sewing machine.”

Mike’s frown deepened. “You did all this in secret? What the hell?”

“What would your dad say if you took up sewing?” Steve muttered darkly.

Mike blushed and ducked his head. “Probably that it was girly.”

“And yet the tailor I went to was a man,” Steve pointed out. “So how does sewing make you girly but most tailors are men make sense?” Mike just shrugged because it didn’t. “Also while we on that bullshit, why is a tailor seen as an honorable profession when a seamstress has the connotation of being associated with sex? Like what the fuck?”

Mike’s ears burned as he deeply regretted bringing it up.

“Just finish those tassels, man,” Steve huffed going back to his own work.

Mike did as he was told and bent back over his tassels.

*

All week long people were coming in and out of Steve’s house so often that Steve was startled by the knock at the door.

He was annoyed. He was literally an inch away from finishing Will’s extension and the interruption was decidedly unwelcome.

To say he was surprised when Officer Callahan was standing there looking as much if not more annoyed than he was would be an understatement.

“Uh...” Steve muttered. “How can I help you, Officer?”

“Hey, Harrington,” Callahan said with a heavy sigh, “it seems your neighbors are complaining that you’ve been having people coming and going all hours of the day and night. They think it’s been pretty suspicious.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow and Callahan huffed out a laugh.

Steve did some heavy thinking to make sure he didn’t have weed out before he said, “Nothing shading going on, I promise, Officer. Just being making costumes for the Ren Fair coming up this weekend and all my friends keep stopping by for last minute fittings.”

Both of Callahan’s eyebrows went up. “What now?”

Steve waved him in. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Callahan looked around him, but followed Steve into the house with a half shrug.

Steve brought the police officer into the kitchen where he had been working with the aid of the natural light streaming through the big windows. On the table there was Will’s tunic with its inch of ribbon to go. There were bobbins of thread, spools of ribbon, and swaths of fabric literally covering almost every inch of the table.

“I’m just putting on the finishing touches on Will Byers’s costume,” Steve explained. “You remember Will, don’t you?” His smile was just this side of innocent.

Callahan coughed. Because of course he did. Everyone knew who Will Byers was.

“Right,” he said scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I’ll be sure to pass that along. But maybe tell your friends to come during the day?”

Steve smiled brightly. “Oh of course, Officer. This is the last one I’m working on, though. And Will will be stopping by this evening.”

“You sure this is the last one?” Callahan asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Oh yes!” Steve said. “The first day of the Fair is on Thursday and we’re going all three days.”

Callahan nodded. “I’ll leave you be then.”

Steve showed him to the front door. Callahan stopped.

“Is this Fair thing any fun?” he asked nervously.

“I’d like to think so,” Steve said with a half shrug. “It’s like the State Fair, so it can get hot and dusty, but there are jousting and sword fights, little plays at night. Things like that.”

Callahan chewed on the bottom of his lip before he nodded curtly. “See ya, later, Harrington.”

“Bye, Officer!”

He slammed the door and went back to finishing the tunic.

Once he was done, he held it up to the light. You couldn’t even tell where the extra inches were. It looked seamless.

He yawned and stretched, feeling please with himself. He looked at his watch. He still had plenty of time before Mrs. Byers brought Will over for the final fitting.

So Steve wandered over to the sofa and laid down. He figured he could a few winks before then and let himself drift off to sleep.

*

Steve was woken by the sound of someone pounding on the door. He looked out the window, but it was still light out. He sat up and looked at his watch again to see that only an hour had passed.

He got up and before he could even reach the hallway whoever it was started knocking again.

“Hold your horses, man!” Steve yelled.

He threw open the door, annoyed for the second time today. But at least this time it was a far more pleasant a surprise.

“Eddie!” he greeted. “Were we hanging out today?” He didn’t think they had anything on with it being so close to the Ren Fair.

“Nope!” Eddie said with a grin. “A special delivery!”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Holy shit! They’re ready?”

Eddie pulled out a long thin box and handed it over. Inside were two brown elf ears.

“And they’ll match?”

Eddie tilted his hand back and forth. “As close as we could without the recipient being there.”

Steve hugged him. “Thanks, man. This is going to mean a lot to Lucas.”

Eddie cleared his throat and reluctantly stepped back. “I’ve got band practice, but I wanted to drop these off so Lucas can have them before we go to the Ren Fair.”

“I appreciate it,” Steve said, his cheeks dusted pink. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Yep!” Eddie said, skipping backwards and almost falling off the porch.

Steve jerked forward, but Eddie righted himself before he could fall.

“Bye.” Eddie turned around and practically ran back to his van.

Steve shook his head fondly. He went back inside, but he knew it was useless to try to nap some more. He was wide awake and maybe a little excited, too.

So he went to get make himself some dinner before Joyce and Will arrived.

*

For the third and final time that night there was a knock on Steve’s front door. At least this time he was ready for it.

He opened the door to reveal Joyce and Will. “Come on in. I just finished it up this afternoon.”

“It’s so sweet of you to do the final alterations,” Joyce said. “It really was a big help to Claudia and me, so we got together and made you brownies as a thank you.”

She shoved the plate in his hands and with her eyes dared him to refuse.

Steve would admit later that he thought about protesting until the smell of warm chocolate hit his nose.

“Oh wow,” he murmured. “They smell delightful.”

Joyce smiled. “Let’s see it then. El has been going on and on about the gold trim on her dress for days and I can’t wait to see Will’s.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Byers,” Steve said brightly. “Follow me.” He led the way into the kitchen. “Is Nancy and Jonathan going to come to the Fair?”

Joyce and Will shared a glance behind Steve’s back.

“No,” Will said bitterly. “I even told Jonathan that he didn’t have to dress up, but he doesn’t want to go.”

Steve hummed. “Maybe once he sees how much fun you had on Thursday he’ll want to join us for Friday or Saturday.”

Will’s eyes lit up and Joyce smiled fondly at Steve.

“Perhaps,” was all she said.

They reached the kitchen and Will gasped. His tunic was a simple warm brown color but the gold trim just brightened up the whole thing and gave it a rich feel to it.

“Oh Steve, it’s beautiful,” Joyce whispered, giving Steve’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Put it on, Will,” Steve instructed. “It’s going over a shirt and belted so we won’t need to check width, just length.”

Will nodded and pulled it over his head. It fell to the perfect place just over the kneecap so that when Will belted it, it would be above his knee.

“You can’t even tell inches were added,” Joyce said. “Do you like it, Will?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a huge grin. “It’s even better than I imagined. Thanks, Steve!”

He leapt on Steve to give him the biggest hug. Steve staggered back a step but caught the lankly teen and hugged him back just as fiercely.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Joyce playfully swatted her youngest son. “I can’t believe that even with me adding two inches to the hem after we measured still wasn’t enough to counteract your growth spurt!”

Will blushed. “Sorry, mom.”

She just grinned and kissed his cheek.

“Well it looks like we’re all ready to go,” Steve said with a smile. “I can’t wait for Thursday.”

Will smiled back. “Me either!”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[lives-in-midgard]

Hi! 🩷

I saw this reel yesterday, and I instantly thought of Bucky, especially after everything he's been through as TWS and his recovery! It can be single dad!Bucky, or he's in a relationship, whichever you're more comfortable with, of course.

Thank you so much for agreeing to let me make this request, and I can't wait to see where you'll be taking this! I already know the fluff on this one will be off the charts 🥰

Real Superhero

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky's adopted son goes back to school and gets a homework that surprises Bucky.

Word Count: 1645

A/N: Thank you so much @nicoline1998enilocin for giving me this sweet request! 💖I really like this video and you're right it really fits to Bucky's situation. I really hope you like how this turned out!!

Masterlist

Everyone knows Bucky Barnes as the Winter Soldier. The guy who killed a lot of people and to most of them he is not a real superhero, even though he joined the Avengers and has now helped and saved a lot of people in danger. Bucky fights alongside his best friend Steve Rogers aka Captain America and the other Avengers.

There are a few people for whom Bucky is a hero. For Steve, Bucky will always be a hero, not only because he is now an Avenger, but also because he has been through a lot and has always been there for him, Sam, Natasha, and the other Avengers. And of course, for the people he saved, but there is also one special person in Bucky’s life. For him, Bucky will always be the best and greatest hero of all time, even if Bucky isn’t really sure about that. Even though Bucky sometimes gets on this little guy’s nerves when he doesn’t do his homework or clean his room. I’m talking about Bucky’s adopted son Steven, or Steve as Bucky and everyone usually call him. Which can sometimes be a bit confusing and funny at the compound.

Bucky saved him when he was very little. Bucky and Steve brought him to the Avengers compound and took care of him. Bucky felt responsible for this little boy and decided to adopt him. Because they didn’t know his name, he called him Steven, in honor of Steve and everything they had been through. Bucky took good care of little Steve, and the other Avengers helped him. When Steven got older and had to go to school, Bucky decided to move away from the compound and no longer go on missions. Of course, the Avengers, especially Steve, Sam and also Natasha helped him and came to visit whenever they had time. Sometimes Bucky and little Steve would come to visit his aunts and uncles on the compound.

It was Steve’s first day of school in third grade. Bucky made his lunchbox while his little son ate his cornflakes. When Bucky was finished, he put the lunch box in Steve’s school bag. Then he looked at Steve and noticed that he wasn’t eating much and was really quiet. So, Bucky walked closer to him and knelt in front of his son.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Bud?” Bucky asked.

“I’m so nervous, daddy.”

“Oh, Stevie, you don’t have to. Remember you will see all your friends again.” That brought a smile to Steve’s face.

“You ’re right, dad. I can’t wait to see them again.” He said with excitement and made Bucky happy as well. Steve jumped up from the chair and hugged his dad. Bucky smiled to himself and hugged his son tightly.

“But now it’s time to go to school, buddy.”

“Can we call Uncle Steve and Aunt Nat later?” Bucky had to chuckle.

“Of course, we can.” Bucky said and then they made their way to the car. They drove to school and when they arrived, Bucky wanted to go with him to Steve’s classroom, but his son insisted on going alone. After a brief argument, Bucky agreed and knelt down to hug Steven and kissed his forehead. As his son walked away, he turned back to wave at his father. Bucky waved back with a smile and once he knew that his kid was save at school, he went back to his car and drove home.

When Bucky had to pick up his son from school, he waited outside with some other parents. After a few minutes the children came running out and he immediately looked for his son. When he saw Steve running towards him, Bucky started to smile.

“Hey, how was your day, buddy?” Bucky asked as his son stopped in front of him.

“It was so cool. All my friends were here, and we have a new teacher.” He blurted out in excitement.

“I’m so happy for you. How is your new teacher?”

“She is so cool!”

“She?”

“Yeah, Miss Y/L/N (Your last name), she even brought her dog with her.” Steve said and made Bucky curious to meet his new teacher.

Days passed and Steven always told his father a few stories about you and what a cool teacher you were. Bucky was getting more and more excited to meet you. What Bucky didn’t know was that his son also told you about him and what a great father he is. That Bucky saved him and is the best father. You always had to smile when Steven walked up to you and wanted to tell you another story about his wonderful dad. You couldn’t wait to meet Mr. Barnes.

It had been a few weeks since school started when Bucky was waiting outside the school again. He looked over at the small playground and saw a beautiful young woman standing there. He looked around and then saw his son playing there with his friends. This must be miss Y/L/N, his son’s new teacher. Bucky was stunned about how beautiful you looked.

A few minutes later his son and all the other kids came out and Bucky saw you looking over at the kids. For a second your eyes met Bucky’s and you both smiled at each other.

During the drive home, Steven told his dad about his day. When they got home, they had dinner and Steve started doing his homework. Bucky couldn’t stop thinking of you and your beautiful smile and even caught himself smiling of the thought of being the one making you smile or even laugh. After a while Steven came into the kitchen where Bucky was cleaning up the dishes.

“Daddy?” He said and Bucky immediately turned around.

“Yes, buddy?”

“Can I call Auntie Nat; I need some help with my homework?” He asked nervously.

“Sure, you can, but what’s the homework, maybe I can help as well.”

“Well…umm, we have to dress up as our favorite superhero and make a short presentation.” His son told him.

“And you want Aunt Nat’s help?” His son nodded, Bucky smiled and pulled out his phone to call Natasha. It only took a few seconds for Natasha to pick up.

“Hey Tasha, I have someone here who wants to talk to you.” Bucky said and handed the phone to his son. Natasha’s face lights up.

“It’s my favorite Steve.” She said and made them both chuckle. Natasha agreed to pick Steve up and go shopping with him.

After a few hours they came back, and Natasha had to say goodbye. Steve immediately went to his room get dressed. Bucky was curious to see which superhero his son chose. He probably chose Spiderman, Captain America, or maybe Iron Man? Bucky thought.

“I’m not looking. Are you almost ready?” Bucky asked as he knocked on the door to his son’s room.

“Yes” His son answered.

“Do you need any help?”

“No”

“Okay” Bucky said and suddenly his son walked out of his room. Bucky was confused because his son was wearing normal clothes. Well, they almost looked like something Bucky would wear.

“Wow. That is definitely not Spider Man!” Bucky said.

“He’s not a real superhero.”

“He’s not? Okay I give up. Who are you supposed to be?” Bucky asked confused but also curious.

“I’m you daddy.” His little son said. Bucky began to smile, and Steve smiled back at him. Bucky walked over to his son, knelt down and hugged him tightly. Bucky was so lucky to have him.

Bucky wasn’t sure what to expect when he picked Steve up from school the next day. But it definitely wasn’t like he was finally going to talk to you. His son came over and told him about his day when suddenly Bucky saw you walking towards him, and Bucky started to get nervous.

“Hello Mr. Barnes.” You nervously greeted him.

“Hello, miss Y/L/N. Please, call me Bucky.”

“Only if you call me Y/N.” You said but began to blush a little while Steve chuckled.

“Steve, how about you go to the playground and join your friends? I would like to talk to your dad.”

“Okay.” He said and you both watched as he ran to his friends.

“Oh, no what did he do?” Bucky asked and you had to chuckle and then smiled at Bucky.

“I can assure you, Bucky, he didn’t do anything wrong.” When you said his name, Bucky smiled.

“Actually; I wanted to compliment you on your son. He’s such a great student, always helps people and his presentation about you today was also very good.”

“He really did it about me?”

“He did, and your son is right, you really are a real superhero and one of the greatest.” You confessed, but Bucky began to get shy.

“You really believe that?” He asked.

“Of course, I do.”

“Thank you, Y/N, it means a lot to me to hear that.”

“Of course.” You said but didn’t know what else to say. But you didn’t want to leave him either. Bucky felt the same way, so he had to do something before his son came back.

“I’m not sure if this is okay, but I would really like to meet you again.”

“I would like to meet you again too, so yeah that’s okay.”

“Okay. I can give you my phone number, so you can text me whenever you have time.” Bucky said and you nodded. You handed him your phone and Bucky tipped in his number. He smiled when he handed it back to you. You said goodbye and walked away with a big smile. When Steve ran back to Bucky, you heard him say to Bucky:

“Do you like her, daddy?”

“Yeah, I really like her.” Bucky said and you had to smile because you really like him too and can’t wait to see him again.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll |

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Sunshine!reader xGrumpy!eddie munson? (doesnt have to be word for word but just the vibes)

"Please for me?"

"Dont say that-"

"what?"

"everytime you say please for me, you think im gonna do what you ask. well not this time"

"....Please? for me?"

"UUAGHH. fine"

oh my God! Yes! this is so adorable and it screams Eddie 😂 Warnings: none (also, everyone works at Family Video here) Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things 😊 gifs aren’t mine 😁

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Coffee Run

"You go ask him!" Robin insisted.

"Why does it have to be me?"

"You're kidding, right? Because Munson would literally do anything you ask him to" Steve chuckled.

"That's not true!" you argued.

"Yes, it is" both Steve and Robin said at the same time. "He once picked up your copy of ABBA's new album" Steve reminded you. "And he also rented the Princess Bride when you asked him to."

"But he hates doing the coffee run" you reminded them.

"Yes, that's why you should ask him" Robin smirked, raising her eyebrows.

"Okay, I'll try and ask him but I think it's pointless" you rolled your eyes before you walked over to where Eddie was stacking some of the new movies that came in. "Hi, love" you smiled sweetly at him.

"Hey, sunshine" he smiled a little, looking back at you.

"Do you need any help?" you asked, grabbing some of the movies from him.

"What do you want?" he sighed.

"What?" you asked, pretending to be confused.

"Sweetheart, I know you didn't come here to help me stack the new movies" he smirked. "So, what do you want?"

"Well... we were just thinking... because it's really slow today... if you wouldn't... mind... making a coffee run to the shop across the street?" you asked smiling innocently at him and Eddie let out an exasperated sigh.

"Why does it have to be me? You know I hate going to that coffee shop" he said, glaring a little at you.

"I know, but we have all had our breaks except for you" you explained.

"But nobody's here, you can just go and we'll cover for you" he tried to argue.

"Please, Eds? For me?" you begged.

"No, don't say that!" Eddie complained.

"Why not?" you asked, confused.

"Every time you say 'Please? For me?', you think I'm gonna do whatever you ask. Well, not this time!, princess" he complained, glaring at you a little. But then he saw your bottom lip sticking out as you pouted and you looked up at him with puppy eyes.

"Please, love?" you tried again. "I'll make it up to you" you smirked.

"UUAGHH. Fine!" he gave in, still frowning. But a small smile formed on his lips when you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and peppering him with kisses, making him drop the movies in his hands.

"Thank you so much, Eddie" you said, before you planted a kiss on his lips.

"You're lucky I love you, princess" he smiled before giving you another peck.

"I know, love" you smiled. "I love you too" you said giving him one final kiss before he started making his way out of Family Video.

"Taking my break!" he yelled at Robin and Steve who both quickly pretended they had not just witnessed your entire interaction with him. You picked up the movies Eddie dropped and walked back to them.

"So, you still think you don't have Munson wrapped around your little finger?" Steve said, smirking.

"Shut up, Harrington!" you said before going to the back to get the rest of the movies Eddie needed to stack. It was only about fifteen minutes later before Eddie was back.

"Here Harrington" Eddie said, sighing, handing Steve his coffee.

"Thanks, man" Steve nodded.

"Buckley" he said, giving Robin hers.

"Thanks, Eddie" she said, before she nudged Steve.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? Pay him" she rolled her eyes.

"Why do I always have to be the one paying?"

"I don't know, Steve. Why am I the funny one? We all have our thing" she said, laughing and Steve rolled his eyes before he paid Eddie for his coffee and Robin's as you came out of the back room.

"Eddie!" you smiled brightly at him, approaching your boyfriend and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Hi again, love" you smiled.

"Hey, princess" he said as a smile appeared.

"Dude, I don't think I've ever seen Eddie smiling" Robin frowned.

"I know. I always assumed he had fangs" Steve chuckled.

"Shut up you two, or I'll throw your coffee away" he glared at the two of them before he turned back to you. "I got yours here, sunshine" he said, grabbing a third cup and handing it to you.

"Thank you so much, love" you said, kissing his cheek. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, princess" he said, kissing your forehead. "It's my treat" he smiled at you.

"Thank you, Eddie" you said, kissing his cheek.

"Let me know if they made it right, or I can go back and ask for a new one" he told you as you took a sip.

"It's perfect, love" you insisted.

"Mine kinda needs more sugar, did they give you any?"

"No, sucks to be you, Harrington" he smirked at Steve.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves liked it!

[steddieas-shegoes]

“We have to discuss the temperature of the water in this shower.”

“You could get out if you don’t like it.”

Robin rolled her eyes as she continued to lather up her hair.

They were both running late, hence the showering together.

They’d done it quite a few times when they were in a rush or just didn’t want to be alone, which happened a lot after nightmares.

It further proved they’re platonic with a capital P friendship, as if they needed the proof to begin with.

Sometimes Robin would wash his hair when he had a migraine, sometimes he’d give her a shoulder massage after a long day in class.

It just worked for them.

Robin joked it was the only time she’d ever shower with a man, and Steve joked that it was probably the only time he’d shower with a lesbian.

It worked.

They were so caught up in their usual routine taking turns in the water and soaping up, they didn’t even notice when the bathroom door opened.

“Robs, I have soap in my eye, move.”

“You’re a child, Steve. A child.”

“It hurts! Move!”

“Learn to close your eyes dingus!”

“Learn to move when I need you to!”

Eddie was frozen in the doorway to the bathroom watching as the argument continued despite the fact that Robin moved and Steve got the soap out of his eyes.

Robin had come out to him a year ago. He remembers very distinctly laughing about how the small town queers always found each other like fucking magnets.

Steve had come out to him a few months previously, letting him know he was definitely into men and women and had probably always known, but was too stubborn to admit he was probably way more into Billy Hargrove than he should’ve been.

Robin was a lesbian.

She was currently naked in a shower with Steve, who was also naked.

They were naked in the shower together.

He looked down at the floor for their modesty, but still couldn’t move, his brain trying it’s best to come to any conclusion that made sense.

The water shut off and the door opened.

He was still looking at the floor.

Robin’s feet were on the bathmat. He assumed she was wrapping herself in a towel, but he had no idea because he couldn’t look up.

Then Steve’s feet were on the bathmat.

He wanted to look up.

He really wanted to get a glimpse of what his dreams built up in his mind almost every night.

But he couldn’t.

He was still in shock that they showered together. Naked!

Robin was leaving the room. Had she said something? Surely she’d noticed him, he was still standing halfway in the door. Her shoulder brushed his as she left.

He forced himself to look up a little and saw a smirk on Steve’s face.

Why was he so calm? Why was he not yelling at him about looking at them naked? Why was he not explaining what was going on?

Steve’s hand was on his shoulder.

Oh god. He was soaking wet. The towel barely covered him at all.

Eddie was going to die. Right here in their bathroom.

“You good?”

Eddie choked on his next breath. Was he good?! How was he supposed to be good? Something needed to be explained.

“Uh. Robin’s a lesbian?”

Steve snorted. “She is. Very true.”

“Naked? In the shower?”

“Also very true. We do tend to be naked when we shower.”

“Together?”

“Yeah, not all the time, but we do.”

“I’m confused.”

“I know. We confuse a lot of people. It’s just a comfort thing. Routine. Don’t read into it.”

Then Steve left the bathroom like he hadn’t just blown Eddie’s mind.

They platonically showered together.

Did they platonically have sex too?!

Oh Jesus, no. Robin was definitely a lesbian. A lesbian who very much didn’t like men even 0.01%.

He stood there for a while letting his brain run the marathon. He didn’t really cross the finish line before Steve was coming back in to do his hair.

“Dude, can you go get some air or something?”

“Why don’t we platonically shower?”

What the actual fuck, Eddie. That wasn’t even a thought your brain had before. What the fuck.

He managed to look up at Steve’s face, which was bright red.

“Uh. Well.”

“Sorry. I don’t know why I asked that. Um.”

Eddie turned to leave.

Steve grabbed his shoulder before he could.

“Because it wouldn’t be platonic.” Steve cleared his throat. “If it was you. It wouldn’t be because we’re good friends. It would be because I want to see you naked. Kiss you naked. Probably other things.”

“That can be arranged.”

Eddie had no fucking clue what he was saying. Some horny demon had taken over his brain and he couldn’t control anything anymore.

But it must have done something because Steve was smiling at him like he’d just told him it was Christmas morning and Santa brought him everything he asked for.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Tonight?”

Steve giggled. He fucking giggled.

“Yeah, okay. Tonight.”

Eddie left without another word.

Tonight.

Part 2

[pedgito]

okay i had this idea of eddie and reader fucking in a closet or an enclosed space of some kind yk being real sneaky and shit. and the reader lets him finish in their mouth. then he kisses the reader with his cum in his mouth bc he nasty like that. sorry if this was a really specific request it’s been sitting in my brain for ages.

author’s note: full warning, if this grosses you out, don’t read. and i don’t want to hear how much you don’t like it in my inbox because i don’t care lol. but for those of you that do read this, enjoy my nasty eddie thoughts.

cw: 18+ (minors dni) semi-public (in a closet), voyeurism (if you squint), oral (m receiving), fluid play/bonding (idk they share eddie’s jizz yeah), established relationship, eddie is v gross but we love that shit, if i missed anything lmk

word count: 1.7k

Eddie didn’t do parties, ever. It was just another spectacle and a place for him to be laughed at, wondering who invited the freak to drink and kill the vibe—but for you, he endures it. That and everyone knows to keep their mouth shut around you. It’s nice, Eddie can admit that—but it’s also damn near impossible for him to keep his hands off of you in public, not that you had a problem with it.

Dating Eddie hit you completely out of nowhere, ending up in an after school detention with him that left very little to be discovered about each other, both in your likes and dislikes, but also your bodies.

And so what if you fucked Eddie with only one twenty minute conversation under your belt—he was levels above most of the guys you fucked, even if he was a little bit inexperienced in the beginning.

He’s more surprised at how easily your perfect persona is tarnished in front of him—good grades, nice friends, always smiling at everyone who walks by. You were never mean to anyone, which is why no one ever said shit when you started your mornings cuddled up to Eddie at his locker.

They could look and stare, but no one dared to comment on it.

Eddie’s quick to feed into it, openly kissing you in the halls, grabbing at your ass under the short confines of your skirt or tight jeans—it would emit a few groans, but you didn’t care.

Not for a second.

He’s insatiable, really—and nasty to the core. You never really expected to like it as much as you did, settling for missionary and doggy style in most of your hook-ups, minimal eye contact, and getting straight to the point; not to say you didn’t enjoy it, but with Eddie, it’s kismet.

You could never say no.

“Hey, hey,” You murmur against his lips, his hands blindly reaching for the doorknob to shove you into Steve Harrinton’s bedroom, leaving the door open just a crack, “we can leave if you want—do you wanna leave?”

“Mmm,” Eddie shakes his head, breathing hotly against your mouth, “don’t think I can wait that long, wanna fuck you right now.”

You giggle softly, arms wrapped around his neck as he hoists you up, licking into your mouth with the same edge of depravity he always carried, growling lowly. His hands slip past the waistband of your jeans, contacting the bare skin underneath.

“No panties,” Eddie notes, “dirty girl.”

“Do you expect anything less?” You tease, squealing softly as he buries his face into your neck, nipping at the skin.

But, the loud ramblings of another pair of bodies stumbling down the hall has you both in a panic—Eddie nearly shuts the door close, but you’re hopping off of him to pull him into the closet before he can act, sliding the slatted, wooden doors close, leaving little light to leak through.

You force your hand over Eddie’s mouth, his features barely visible aside from the tiny spec of light that hits his face from the lamp on the table beside the closet. He blinks, confused.

It doesn’t take long for you both to realize that it’s Steve—and some girl you’ve only talked to a few times at school, who seemed a lot more familiar with Steve than you expect, hands reaching under waistband of his boxers from where his jeans hang open loosely, you avert your eyes quickly, connecting with Eddie’s.

He’s got that ridiculous smirk on his face, having caught you in the act of peeping, shifting the closet door shut tight—no more peeking on his account. His hands keep busy, whether on your neck, your breasts, over the expanse of your back, just touching because he wanted to—but you can feel how impatient he’s being, hard in his jeans from where’s pressed up against you in the small space.

“We can’t,” You whisper softly, feeling Eddie’s hands squeeze at the slope of your ass, pulling you in closer, “Eddie, I’m serious.”

“It’s Steve,” He murmurs, lips connecting with your neck briefly, “he won’t even know.”

Eddie was right—but the hesitation was still there.

“I’m not letting you fuck me in a closet,” You force out in a hushed whisper, “get over yourself.”

Eddie chuckles lightly, fumbling with the front of his pants carefully, mouth still busy against your skin, “Never said anything about that, but if I need to find a way to keep that mouth occupied, I can think of a few.”

You look at him sternly—Eddie can faintly read your expression, smiling confidently as his belt jingles quietly, slow to unzip his jeans.

“Because as much as I love to hear you talk, that mouth is good at other things,” Eddie says knowingly, “unless, of course, you’d rather watch Steve—“

“Fuck off.” You mutter, sinking to your knees with ease, yanking Eddie’s jeans down his hips impatiently and reaching under his boxers for his cock with a ferocity that has Eddie feeling for the walls, hands coming up to brace himself.

“Jesus,” He grunts softly, your grip tightening around the soft, velvet skin, his cock thickening to full hardness under your touch, “—a little warning next time, sweetheart.”

You scoff lightly at that, the deep hum of the music traveling upstairs and under the gap of Steve’s bedroom door—it didn’t help drowning out the sounds of Steve and the girl only a few feet away, but it did help muffle the sounds of Eddie, who couldn’t help his noise level when your mouth finally closes around his cock.

You lick at the tip slowly, right along the slit until Eddie’s reaching for your head, hand squeezing at the root of your hair. Eddie never tried to be soft, or caring—he always was regardless, but he was also just as intense.

“Fuck, take it, baby—“ He pushes a little deeper, forcing you to inhale on the push, moaning against him, “oh, fuck—“

It was easy to wreck Eddie’s ego, watch it come crashing to the ground every time you touched him. You bob your head with his movements, slowly until he’s holding you still, rocking his hips into your mouth with harsh, precise thrusts—fucking your mouth just like he would your pussy, reminding you just how devastating it was that he couldn’t have you right now.

There’s a creak on the bed that has you two pausing your movements, mouth still fully engulfing Eddie’s dick as footsteps approach. Eddie’s thumb pressing at your cheek gently, rubbing in small, comforting circles—almost a way to soothe or ease your worry.

“Hurry.” The girl giggles, followed by Steve’s ruffling through the drawers of the table placed beside the closet.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

And the double entendre of it has both you and Eddie forcing a laugh back down.

When Steve finally retreats a safe distance you feel Eddie rub at your jaw, urging you to continue.

You double down, shifting down to mouth at his balls, the weight heavy against your tongue as you swirl it gently over the skin—Eddie raises his fist in silence, biting down to stifle the filthy groan that almost escapes. It’s the easiest way to fuck with him, knowing how much he liked it—and you don’t stop.

Your hand pumps steadily, stopping to squeeze at the head occasionally, smearing the precum over the head and down, the friction unbearable as you made it your absolute mission to make Eddie come—fast and hard.

It doesn’t take long before he’s grunting softly, yanking gently at your head to pull you away.

“Need somewhere,” Eddie begs, “Steve’ll never forgive me if I use his shirt to clean up my jizz, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know,” You tease, “think it’s kinda hot, actually.”

It would’ve been easier for him to ask to come in your mouth, but that was a little too straightforward—he didn’t do it often, mostly because things would’ve led to sex by now, but it’s still one of his favorite things, your eyes wide and attentive on his face as he cums, thinking he might actually pass out from the feeling of it all.

“Your mouth, baby,” He finally says, voice strained, clearly holding himself back, “god, let me cum in your mouth, please.”

You smile widely, despite how hard it is to make it out in the poor lighting and nod, which he does feel.

You close your mouth over the tip, feeling his hand leave your hair to tug at his dick, jerking himself off with fervor, breathing harshly through his nose.

“I’m gonna come,” He forces out in a hushed tone, giving you the small warning you need to pull back, tongue pressed against the underside of his cock, as he lets out a litany of curses, “fuckfuckfuck—“ in the same deep tone that makes your thighs clench together harder, reminding you how greatly you were lacking his touch.

You flinch when the warmth of it hits your mouth, warm and pooling in the dip of your tongue as Eddie tries his best to suppress his groans, squeezing himself until there’s nothing left, the head of his cock dragging against your lips as he pulls away—your immediate instinct is to swallow, rid yourself of the musky taste and find the best route of escape, but Eddie stops you.

“Come here,” He urges, letting him pull you up, your face tilting in his grip as he closes your mouth with his thumb, rubbing the underside of your chin, “—how does it taste?”

You raise your eyebrows expectantly, gesturing to him before opening your mouth, beckoning him to get a taste—and Eddie’s never shied away from things like this, always willing to try things at least once. So, he does, his tongue dipping into your mouth quickly, the taste of him lingering between you two briefly as you hurried to swallow the rest.

“Dirty,” He repeats his earlier sentiment against your lips, “—fuck, if I didn’t like you so much I would never do shit like that.”

You giggle quietly, reaching up to press a gentle kiss against his lips, “I know.”

And you can say that with full confidence, because it’s true.

“Now, how do we get out of here?”

You shrug, “Don’t know—but, I got something that’ll keep you busy, if you want.”

Eddie was more than eager to please.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡