#thank you steve for the idea for this post

[navybrat817]

Any thoughts for WETnesday with Bucky?🤭🤭

Okay, Syd. I wrote this after work for Wetnesday and promptly fell asleep. So, I'm posting this on Thirsty Thursday! And that has to be Mr. Barnes before you two are married.

Dinner Plans

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to be late for dinner, but you don't seem to be in a rush to go.

Word Count: Over 2.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, quick unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, lovelies), possessive behavior, a bit of humor and fluff, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I love this couple, okay? @targaryenvampireslayer and @starlightcrystalline, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was still early in the evening as Bucky got ready for dinner. Checking his watch once he put it on, he sighed. If he was late, Steve would give him a hard time. And if Steve gave him a hard time, Sam would only give him the gasoline to fuel the fire. Just the thought of it had his face shift to his grumpy stare you loved.

His gaze softened when you went to the vanity. Would the guys give him a hard time if he said he was in love and wanted as much alone time with you as possible? How being with you was like floating on a cloud and being pulled back down to earth all at once? He didn’t care if they’d call him out for being sappy. He sure as hell suffered enough in his life that he could afford to be appreciative of you and maybe a little selfish when it came to you.

But checking the time, he grumbled. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago,” he said.

He would’ve rather gone to a hole in the wall kind of place or a diner to have dinner, but it wasn't his turn to pick the dinner out with some of the gang. Plus it was nice getting to dress up with you since you liked how he looked in suits. To be fair, you said he looked good in anything and he felt the same way about you. How you always managed to look like a goddess, he’d never know.

You hummed. “We still have a few minutes to spare,” you said, which he wasn’t sure how you knew since you hadn’t looked at the time. “And you are not dressed yet, so it’s not like we can head out the door.”

He paused to stare at you. “Neither are you,” he pointed out, licking his lips as you leaned forward a bit more as you applied your makeup. He shook his head after a moment, trying to snap himself out of the spell you always managed to put him under. “I’m bringing you one of my cardigans to put over your shoulders in case you get cold.”

Because the weather was nice for the evening, you picked out a sleeveless dress. He didn’t know if the restaurant would be cold though, and he didn’t want you shivering through the meal. You likely had something to match your dress, but putting one of his cardigans over you was like that extra touch of belonging to him in case anyone got any ideas.

“You just want one of your shirts draped over me like a big neon sign that says I’m yours and you don't want guys checking me out on my dress,” you said like you knew exactly what he was thinking. There was no reason to deny your words since it was the truth. “But I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

“I do like my clothes draped over you,” he smirked. He liked having his smell on you, too. “But you know what I don’t like? Steve and Sam bitching if we’re late. It’ll spoil my appetite.”

“Aww, my poor super soldier,” you teased, smiling at him in your reflection and making his heart skip a beat. “If we’re late, you can just blame me. I won’t let them give you a hard time, okay?”

Bucky couldn’t blame you though. Not entirely. You were late getting in the shower thanks to him insisting on the two of you staying in bed. Serum stamina or whatever you wanted to call it, but he felt bad some days for his almost constant need. You didn’t seem to mind though.

“They won’t believe me,” he said, staring again when the strap of your bra slipped from your shoulder. “And baby, you know I adore you, but you need to quit distracting me so I can finish getting dressed.”

Ever since you moved in, you’d been a distraction in a wonderful way. He often found that he’d pause to look at photos or little touches you incorporated into the place, giving him a chance to reflect on memories you made together and even learn more about who you were before you met. Hearing your laughter or voice call to him from another room also made him drop whatever he was doing, too. Sharing a space with someone could be daunting, but it was easy with you, like you had lived together for years. It made him look forward to more.

“Me? Distracting you?” You turned your head toward him and gave him an innocent glance. You were anything but innocent. “I'm not doing anything.”

Bucky almost snarled. Like hell you weren't doing anything. Swaying your hips and prancing around in your lingerie before you sat to get ready, lingerie which barely covered your gorgeous tits and sweet cunt. He wanted to rip it to shreds or tear it off with his teeth. You wouldn’t mind, right? He could always get you more to destroy.

“Not doing anything? Look at you,” he said incredulously as you turned back to the mirror and pushed your bra up. He should’ve been holding your breasts. “Why aren't you wearing a robe?”

You tilted your head. “Well, you said before I got in the shower that we were in a slight rush, so I figured putting on the robe was a waste of time. At least I have my underwear on, though I know you’d rather I be naked.”

If Bucky had his way, you’d be naked all the time. At least, when you two were at home. Logically he knew he couldn’t have that at work, functions, or anything of that nature, but the image in his head was nice. “For such a rush you seem to be taking your time.”

“I'm not taking my time. I'm finishing my makeup,” you argued, carefully applying your lipstick. “Like it?” you asked, blowing him an air kiss. It was a pretty shade. It would look even prettier smeared around his cock.

He closed his eyes with a groan. Some days he felt like a caveman with the thoughts that consumed him. “You look beautiful,” he said once he opened his eyes. Like always. “Now get your dress on so I can show you off before I put the cardigan on you.”

“Show me off?” You slowly stood from your chair and gave him a generous view of your backside. His cock twitched in his pants, and there was no reason to hide the pure lust in his eyes when you turned to face him. “You flatter me, Mr. Barnes.”

He chuckled. It always did something to him when you called him Mr. Barnes. It was something affectionate, sweet. “I think you’re the one flattering me, Mrs.-” he exhaled before he could finish, and he heard the hitch in your breath across the room.

“What was that?” you asked breathily.

He adjusted the watch on his wrist and avoided your gaze. You were his girl, yeah, and the love you had for each other spoke volumes, but you weren’t his wife. Not yet. God, how he wanted you to be- for you to take his last name, wear his ring on your finger, be his partner in all aspects of life. He wanted it to be more than just a dream.

“I didn’t say…” He cleared his throat and put on a blank face, only because he didn’t know how you’d react. “Anything.”

Your eyes raked over him before you beckoned him forward with a finger. He swore no one would ever control him again after HYDRA brainwashed him, but you could’ve commanded him to do anything. It didn’t frighten him because you would never harm him, never take advantage of him. Taking him into your care and maintaining his trust was one of the ways you showed you loved him.

Once he stood in front of you, barely an inch away, you whispered, “Were you about to call me Mrs. Barnes?”

He swallowed hard, his heart racing. It was one thing to say you loved each other, to want a future together, but what if you weren’t ready when he popped the question? “I was,” he whispered back.

You smiled, not looking the least bit put off or afraid. He should've known it wouldn't bother you, especially with you being the one to say “I love you” first. “I think that has a really nice ring to it,” you said, your hands moving to unbuckle his belt.

“You think so?” he asked, forgetting for a moment that he was capable of breathing. “You like the idea of being my wife?”

Bucky would no doubt be the kind of husband who’d brag about you. He’d find ways to insert “my wife” in conversations just to let others know that you picked him out of everyone else on the planet. Not just that, he wanted people to know how proud he was to be your man and that he’d find reasons every day to be proud of you.

“I love it,” you confirmed, sighing when he ran his fingertips along your arms. “Makes my heart race,” you admitted. He could hear it. “Makes me wet.”

Bucky arched his hips and pressed up against you. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, not stopping you as you unbuttoned his pants. He was thinking of just cancelling dinner so he could throw you on the bed and stay inside you for the rest of the night. “We need to-”

“Oh. Now might be a good time to tell you that Steve pushed the reservation back by a half hour,” you cut in, mouthing over his racing pulse. “He figured he’d message me since I’m better about checking my phone, and-”

Bucky picked you up with ease and tossed you onto the bed. Your wide-eyed expression as you bounced nearly had him busting out of his pants, and he didn’t hesitate to crawl over you and pin you down. Relishing in the moan you let out when he lightly bit your neck, he did it again a little harder. “No wonder you took your time and teased me,” he smirked when you squirmed beneath him. “My future wife.”

“My future husband,” you moaned, bucking your hips up. “Need you in me. We can be quick.”

You got a hand in his hair and forced his head up to yours, your tongue impatiently pushing into his mouth. He groaned in understanding, feeling just as desperate as you. Knowing how turned on you were at the thought of being his wife turned him on, and he could barely form a coherent thought as he took his cock out and gave it a couple of quick pumps.

“Say it again,” he demanded, shoving your panties aside and rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He took his time earlier today stretching you, and he wanted nothing more than to feel you around him again.

And the way you reached between your bodies and gripped the base of his cock, he knew you wanted the same when you said, “Fuck me, my future husband.”

He eased in gently, making you whine. He thought he’d whine, too, for a second because of how good he felt. God, how good it would feel to hold your hand one day and feel his ring against your skin. “You okay?” he asked, dragging his thumb along your lower lip once he was fully inside you. You were tight still, so wet, and oh, he was going to fuck you and make it quick, but he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, starting deep into his eyes as you clenched around him with purpose and brushed his hair back. He tried to be still, tried not to thrust like a wild animal. “Are you?”

“I’m okay,” he promised, easing his hips back. “Just hold on while I fuck you.”

Your back arched when he slammed himself back in nice and deep, your cry bouncing off the walls. Here in the comfort of your home you didn’t have to smother any noises, didn’t have to keep quiet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how you were the queen of his world.

Being inside you all he got out was, “You feel so fucking good.”

And because you could read him like no one else could, you tenderly smiled. “I love you, too.”

He threw his head back as you clutched his arms, determined to make you feel good, determined to show you how much he loved you even as he fucked you. “Gonna put you on your hands and knees after dinner. Make you watch in the mirror while I fuck you,” he groaned. “Can imagine it's part of our honeymoon.”

“Please!’ you moaned, trying to meet his thrusts.

Bucky grabbed your thighs to lift you higher, uncaring if he ruined his pants for the evening. Watching you tremble beneath his, a vision of ecstasy, he was happy to stay there forever. Wrapped up in you was where he always wanted to be.

“Gonna come,” you moaned, reaching up to pull his hair again, your body quaking. “Bucky, please.”

Bucky groaned. He hadn’t rubbed your clit how he wanted to. Didn’t get to tear your bra off and tease your nipples. He did promise to fuck you later though, and he’d do all those things and more. “Then come for me,” he smirked, leaning down to say against your lips, “Future. Mrs.. Barnes.”

You got impossibly tight and the flood of wetness that gushed around him triggered his own orgasm, a rush of heat filling him as he filled you. His mouth fell open as you clung to him, and he heard you moan his name as your eyes went glossy. He wanted the image of you getting off to taking his last name etched in his brain for all time. He wanted his name to fall from your lips again and again on your wedding night.

The cloud in his mind began to lift. You, his future wife, were beneath him, still shaking, still holding him like a lifeline. He didn’t want to let you go either. “Holy… shit…” you panted.

He braced himself above you, trying not to crush you as the euphoria slowly faded. It never really went away though. Not with you. “Holy shit,” he agreed. He stayed inside you, your sweet mewl making him smile as he kissed you. “Is this a new kink?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, touching his cheek. “New kink unlocked.”

Touching your lips with his once more, he chuckled. “You ruined my pants,” he teased. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The first time you rode his thigh and got your release all over it, he nearly came, too. “Good thing I have a few minutes to change.”

He cradled you close when he shifted to the side, making you moan again. “Yeah, well, you ruined my panties. Fair is fair.”

“I did,” he smirked, running his fingers along your spine. “Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“I love you,” he whispered, wanting to say it as often as he could. They weren’t just words, but a declaration, a promise.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, tracing one of the buttons on his wrinkled shirt.

His lips brushed your forehead. He’d never get tired of hearing you say that. “If I asked you to marry me right now, would you say yes?”

He wouldn’t propose right this second. You deserved something more romantic. But in his heart, he just wanted to hear you say that you’d say yes.

You giggled, your eyes full of love. “I would say yes in a heartbeat,” you replied, kissing him gently. Your answer relieved him. “And I’d marry you anytime, anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But?” he asked, sensing a “but” in there.

“But don’t ask me right now, okay?” you smiled, in sync with his thoughts. “I mean, I’d like to think my pussy would make you propose now-”

“And it would,” he smirked.

You giggled again. “But ask me when I’m not expecting it… Whenever it feels right to you.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Looking forward to it.” You snuggled closer and missed his look of adoration. “Hold me for one more minute before we get ready to go?”

As if he could ever deny you. “I’ll hold you as long as you want,” he whispered.

He no longer cared if Steve or Sam gave him shit should they show up late. If you wanted him to skip dinner just to hold you, he’d do it. If you wanted him to surprise you when he proposed, he would. And no matter when Bucky asked you to be his wife, he’d make sure it was perfect as it could possibly be.

AHH! I love them so much. How do you lovelies think he proposed? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[asbealthgn]

(the thrilling conclusion. also posted on ao3! here's some art of the kitten i did. part 1, 2, 2.5, 3)

The Corroded Coffin fan base find out about Steve entirely by accident.

It starts, of course, with the kitten. After Eddie’s had her for a few days he decides to make an official post on his Instagram, which is a big deal because he normally just lets his PR people handle posting. All he normally does is post shit to his story, but the kitten deserves more formal recognition than that.

So he picks his favorite pictures of her (his camera roll is filled to the brim at this point) and posts them with the caption meet the light of my life, Lemon Verbena Deathclaw Goblikon Munson (Lemon for short). It’s like kicking a wasp’s nest, but, like, the good version: everyone and their dog shares the post to their stories, edits set to any number of Corroded Coffin’s hit songs are spread across TikTok, coffintwt is in an uproar.

Several hours later, Eddie posts a video to his story. He films Lemon on the couch and asks her, “Miss Lemon, how does it feel to be the best, most famous cat in the world?” She responds by meowing loudly and trying to bite his camera. Steve is sitting on the couch, so part of his thighs end up in the video.

Aside from having great thighs, the odd sliver of Steve’s legs or torso or arms showing up in various photographs and videos that Eddie puts on his story over the next few days does not draw a lot of attention from the Corroded Coffin fanbase. If Eddie were to guess, he would probably say they assume it’s just Eddie or one of his bandmates. It’s not until Eddie posts a video of Lemon trying to climb onto the couch on her own and Steve’s hands make an appearance steadying her that people take notice. More specifically, the Twitter account that’s dedicated to posting close-ups of the members of Corroded Coffin’s hands posts a screenshot of the video with the caption those hands do not belong to our boys.

From there, it becomes a wild source of controversy on Twitter as coffintwt tries to figure out for sure if those hands belong to anyone in the band. There’s a lot of back and forth, but ultimately they seem to agree that the original poster is The Authority on the matter. Then it becomes a game of going back through other pictures of Lemon and trying to figure out if the guy showing up the background of so many of them is also someone outside the band. A lot of screenshots start flying around with captions like none of the corroded boys would wear yellow or the rest of the band other than eddie were in LA when this one was posted and so on and so on. 

A consensus is reached: Eddie has been spending a lot of time with someone not in the band, quite possibly a boyfriend.

On a rainy Tuesday three weeks after they met, Eddie lays back on his couch with Steve laying on his chest and Lemon laying on his chest. “They’re onto you, Stevie,” Eddie says. 

“Who’s onto me?” Steve asks, not looking away from the basketball game on the TV. He’s terminally offline and has been blissfully unaware of the saga unfolding. 

“Twitter,” Eddie explains. “My fans have noticed you in the background in a lot of pictures of Lemon and they’ve started putting the pieces together.”

Steve scratches Lemon under her chin and she purrs happily. “Why are they looking at me instead of her?”

“Hell if I know,” Eddie says, reaching around Steve to rub Lemon’s head. “It’s not like you’re super drop-dead gorgeous or anything.”

Grinning, Steve turns his head to kiss Eddie. “Thanks, baby.”

Before Steve can turn his attention back to the game, Eddie hooks his finger under his chin to keep Steve’s eyes on him. “I have a question for you,” he says, “Well, two questions.”

“What’s up?” Steve asks. 

“First, do you want to be my boyfriend?” Eddie knows that three weeks is kind of ridiculously fast, but Steve has practically moved in already, spending all his free time here and sleeping in Eddie’s bed most nights. So Eddie’s not super worried about what his answer is going to be.

Sure enough, Steve smiles. “Yeah, I do,” he says. He kisses Eddie before asking, “What’s the second question?”

“Well, since you said yes, do you mind if I post something about us to stop the speculation?”

“I don’t mind,” Steve says, “But can I tell Robin first so she finds out from me?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, of course. Do you want to go ov—?” But oh, Steve is already pulling out his phone and calling Robin. Okay then. 

“Hey, Robbie! Just wanted to let you know that Eddie’s my boyfriend now….No, he wasn’t already….Well, we hadn’t talked about it….Okay, that’s kinda mean….No, it’s okay….Yeah, Lemon is great! Do you want to talk to her?” Steve holds the phone up to the kitten and she bites the microphone. Steve puts the phone back to his ear. “That was her….Okay, I actually have to go. I just wanted to tell you….Bye, love you!”

Steve puts his phone back in his pocket and then grins at Eddie. “Alright, I’m ready.”

“If there’s one thing about you, baby, you’re a go-getter,” Eddie says, laughing. He gets his own phone out and holds it out to take a picture of them. Lemon, who is fascinated by phones, looks up at the camera as he snaps the photo. Perfect. 

Eddie posts the picture with the caption the rumors are true, Lemon has two dads. she gets her looks from Steve’s side. Then he puts his phone down and wraps his arms back around Steve. He can worry about his fans’ reaction later. Right now, he has other plans.

“What do you say, boyfriend?” he murmurs in Steve’s ear. “Should we go put Lemon in the bathtub?”

tagging: @nburkhardt @stargyles @csinnamon-fox @manda-panda-monium @silly-jellyghoty @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @starquirk @lightwoodbanethings @dramaticwriter @adaed5 @freyaforestafay @roaringgoodshow @sherrylyn628 @stevesbipanic @stevethehairington @henderdads @artiststarme @softboisteve @gregre369 @korixae @kokoshka67 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @piningapple @iwouldsail @thesuninyaface @aftermidnightwriting @hamiltonsteele @brassreign @bitchysunflower @homosexual-having-tea @adelicioustragedy @trashpocket @dramaticwriter @eddiemunsonswife @blackpanzy @bitchysunflower @adelicioustragedy @thegingerrapunzel @overhillunderhill @beckkthewreck @glittergluekintsugi @elyondelannoy @somegirlsomewhere @pluto-pepsi @shinekocreator @goodomensgurl @savory-babby @blues-tunes @babyblender @221b1tch

(tagging is having issues so i'll tag the rest in a reply)

[meralasan]

i honestly never know how much to crop please don't flag me

this is a couples therapy session, yeah? tony's learning how to listen

[duocatt]

for @earliebirb thank you for donating to my kofi 🥹❤️

buy me a coffee? it'd really help me out ☕️ ✨

[thelastwalkingsoul]

Birthday post for my beloved B @stevesbipanic Eddie will never forget the day he found out Steve could sing.

He'd gone over to Steve's house to surprise him, using the key his boyfriend had given him not long after they officially started dating. Eddie had opened the door to music, loud and so very Steve. He'd walked into the kitchen to find Steve in the middle of cooking dinner, hips swaying. It wasn't an unusual sight. What caught Eddie off guard was the voice he could only describe as angelic. Something about it sounded so unlike Steve and it caused Eddie to stand still in the doorway, watching his boyfriend.

When Steve finally turned around, he jumped, face turning that pretty pink Eddie liked so much. He'd laughed awkwardly, clearly embarrassed. Eddie had simply walked over and pulled Steve in, complementing his voice between kisses. Steve later admitted that he never sang in front of anyone, too self-conscious of his voice. Eddie had stumbled across the magic of Steve's singing, meant for no one, but a gift he had all to himself.

Years later, he and Steve are happily living together in their cozy little house. Steve's a teacher at a local middle school and Eddie is riding the success Corroded Coffin has made for themselves. Their both content with where they are in life and sometimes Eddie can't believe he made it this far.

Steve is still just as gorgeous as the day Eddie fell for him. Robin constantly teases them for how grossly in love they are. And ever since Eddie found out Steve could sing he has treasured every little musical sound his boyfriend has made. Steve has a frankly adorable habit of subconsciously humming or singing whatever song Eddie's been working on recently and it makes Eddie positively melt. He tries his best to memorise the lyrics to all of Corroded Coffin's music and listens to every demo Eddie produces.

Eventually, Eddie manages to convince Steve to come and record himself singing in their at-home studio. Steve's still apprehensive about it, but Eddie promises it's for fun and drags him inside. They fuck around for hours, losing track of time as Steve sings through his favourite songs, then parts of Eddie's favourite songs, and then some of Corroded Coffin's songs. Eddie listens with a grin on his face the whole time, reassuring Steve when he needs it. Right at the end, Steve starts singing Eddie's newest work in progress. It's quiet and slightly slower than the original but it's sweet and Eddie eats it up. He sits, pretending to fiddle as he listens. It's his favourite sound in the world.

A month later, with an idea that's been brewing in his mind for several weeks, Eddie nonchalantly asks Steve how he'd feel if he could share his musical talent with the world, without anyone knowing it was him. Steve seems suspicious but answers anyway. It's all Eddie needs.

He secretly adds the small audio clips of Steve singing his newest work in progress, due to come out in the next few months. His bandmates pick it out, knowing it doesn't sound like Eddie or any of them but, despite knowing Steve well, can't pick that it's him. It's perfect and Eddie publishes the song like that. Steve's vocals are there, soft and airy in the background. Not too noticeable but loud enough that they add a little something extra to the song.

Now, Eddie knows Corroded Coffin fans are a little rabid. They're scarily observant, especially when it comes to picking hidden shit out of their songs. But Eddie didn't expect the insane reaction Steve's vocals have on the fanbase. People lose their shit. They love it. Love the tone and airy quality of it. They demand more. The best part is the mystery it creates around who it is. The fans argue over whether or not it's Eddie or the other band members. Some believe it's none of them, a secret 5th person left uncredited. Eddie stays silent on the discourse, absolutely loving the chaos it's creating amongst their fans.

Steve himself is confused. A small group of his students who he knows are fans of Corroded Coffin have been debating for days. He can't help but listen in, always interested in the little gossip he can gleam about Eddie's band. They turn to him one day as he's listening in and ask for his opinion, getting him to listen to the new song for the first time. He's sure he gasps when he hears his own goddamn voice singing back at him. It's quiet, sure, but Steve's surprised his students haven't figured out it's him yet. They seem to like it though, and while Steve's a little mad that Eddie put them in there without asking, he feels more than a little warm when he realises how much care Eddie put into including Steve in something he loved whilst making sure it wasn't too obvious. Still, though, Steve feels like he wants to simultaneously punch Eddie and kiss him till they’re both gasping for air.

Nobody can blame him if he goes home later that day and does both.

[blushweddinggowns]

if it hasn’t been asked yet, prompt 18 has incredible steddie potential. no pressure tho! love your work, hope your brain feels better<3

Aww ty and it is feeling a lil better 💗 And here's some pre-steddie for ya! I might do a part two of this because the vibes leave room for some uh, not sfw material. She has some energy.

~

Steve liked to complain about driving the kids around, but in all honesty? He loved it. He loved how lively they all were, he loved the silly arguments they would have, he liked just being around them, especially Dustin.

But holy shit did he hate picking him up from Hellfire. Because for some fucking reason, Dustin was never just waiting outside. He was always waiting outside with Eddie Munson, his brand new hero.

Steve had no idea what Dustin saw in the guy. He was such a dick, even when they barely talked for five minutes a week Eddie never missed the chance to be a snarky little bitch.

Which is why he wasn't too excited to see Eddie smoking alone outside of their club room, no Dustin in sight. Steve frowned as he got out of his car, looking around like Dustin might magically appear.

It wasn't helping that Eddie was staring right at him, an amused smile on his face, "You looking for something?"

Steve rolled his eyes at the question, "Just tell me where Dustin is."

"Inside," Eddie said as he took a drag, still staring at Steve. It always made Steve feel weird, the way Eddie would look at him. HIs eyes were too big or something, too intense. It always made him squirm, "On the phone, talking to his girlfriend. It's kind of gross actually, how mushy they are. He managed to scare everyone off but me."

That sounded about right. But that also meant that now Steve was stuck with standing next to this guy. And he really wasn't in the mood for awkward small talk.

"I'll wait in the car then," Steve said dismissively, stopping when he heard Eddie snort behind him.

"Too much of a princess to stand around with the undesirables huh?"

Steve spun around, his face hot at the weird insult, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Eddie shrugged, dropping his cigarette to the ground, "It means I think you're an uppity bitch. Tell me Steve, is hating me your only personality trait? Or do you get off on acting like a pissy kitten? That pretty face can only take you so far you know. "

This, this right here is what he hated the most about Eddie Munson. He was a dick yes, but he was so specific about it. Always calling Steve stupid shit like princess, kitten, bitch and now pretty. It was weird, emasculating, and...confusing. Very confusing on why the first thing it always did was make him blush. He didn't make Steve mad in the right way. He made him feel off kilter and anxious, his heart almost always going into overdrive whenever he had to talk to the guy.

But that didn't mean he was going to take all of that laying down, "Says you? I'm surprised you don't have a I hate Jocks tattoo on your forehead. For an 'undesirable' you sure are judgmental as fuck."

Eddie laughed at that, like Steve was an old friend who made a hilarious joke, instead of someone who was actively trying to get under his skin, "Do you still count as a jock? Because if you do I might have to re-evaluate that. I never said I hated you, princess."

Oh great. So that was just a nickname now. Steve opened his mouth to snap back at him, to ask why he was such an ass if their wasn't mutual hatred between them.

But then Dustin was popping out of the club room, a big smile on his face as he waved at Steve, "Sorry I'm late! Suzie called and she heard about this new theory she had to tell me about and-"

"And you can tell me in the car," Steve interrupted, avoiding Eddie's eyes as he dragged Dustin away. The asshole smirked at him as they drove away, like he could just tell how much he was driving Steve crazy.

Yeah, Steve would never understand what Dustin saw in that guy.

[aardvaark]

Hope you’re enjoying the librarians, who’s your favorite character so far?

hey! yes i am, thank you!!

ooh it’s tough to choose. honestly i like jenkins a lot because he’s hilariously snarky, but of the "core four" characters… hmm, probably ezekiel. gotta root for the home team lol (im australian) but also, he’s funny, he’s cool, he’s calm. he doesn’t mind too much that the others think he’s "bad" or worry about his supposed evilness lol, and i like that he either doesn’t let stuff get to him, or that he at least doesn’t let it show when it gets to him - i haven’t seen enough to really know about that yet. he’s a thief and frankly that’s just a consistently awesome character concept haha. he’s just rolling with the whole "magic is real" and "evil magic stuff keeps happening" thing and i admire that lol. i would completely freak out if i saw the stuff they saw, tbh!

unfortunately it is also GRATING to hear my own accent on tv. i do not sound like thattttt (<- lying).

[corrodedcoughin]

here's a rather juicy concept for you darling!!~

steve getting too into his head and after a fight with eddie, assuming they're over. the bridge burned, tells himself eddie hates him and didn't feel the same, that he'll always be bullshit, that he'll always be in King Steve's shadow.

A month after, Eddie shows up on his doorstep drenched from the rain with no other explanation than " you're worth the love it takes to fix this"

It takes time but they make up, get life sorted, and get married and adopt a dog and live as happily as they can~<3

welcome back!!!!!

Steve living life on autopilot, Robin and Dustin can’t even say that he’s doing anything wrong because he isn’t? He’s doing everything he’s supposed to, picking up the kids, going to work, feeding himself, keeping up with his appearance. It’s just…there’s no Steve in it. There’s no bitchy comments when Mike puts his feet on the back of the car seat, no raised eyebrows with Robin with a customer comes in looking for ‘a movie with yellow in the title, or maybe it was the poster that was yellow?’ He’s technically there but there’s no joy in it.

And he’s not even properly avoiding Eddie, he just happens to not be where Eddie is. Almost like they’ve subconsciously orchestrated their days so that they never cross paths. Every day that goes by Steve just seems to retreat more into himself, his personality dimming until there’s nothing he can be called out on, keeping it all inward facing so there’s no opportunity to be told he’s not good enough.

It’s affecting al of them seeing him like this but Robin and Dustin agreed that telling him would just make it worse. If they try to cheer him up, drop kick him out of his pit he’ll sense it and blame himself, maybe even push them away. He reassures them both, letting Robin know he’s okay, assuring dustin nothing is wrong They just don’t know what to do and it hurts. Steve doesn’t know what to do either. The thing is he doesn’t know if he cares. He cares about his friends. Obviously he does. There’s nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for Robin and Dustin may as well be his own flesh and blood but he’s tired, he’s tried everything he can and just when he thought he’d finally cracked it. Thought he’d found his happiness he ruins it for himself. He knows he’s thinking himself into circles but what else is there to do? So he goes home and every night he puts the tv on to try and pretend that the house isn’t lonely, that he’s okay and that he can cope with the way his life is going. Blames himself when it gets overbearing and drags himself down on the couch to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

He’s just settled in for the night, inconsequential show playing and a sad bowl of over boiled potatoes on a plate with unseasoned salmon that shrunk after he left it too long in the oven. It’s a sad state of affairs but Steve doesn’t contemplate it too long, no point.

There’s a thudding at the door as he half way through a bite of too soft potato. Thinks about ignoring it but doesn’t want to cause a problem so heaves himself up. He makes it to the door, hearing anxious muttering on the other side as he unlocks it. Doesn’t register the voice, actually he doesn’t let himself register the voice until the door is open and Eddie is stood staring at him. Sad, sad eyes meeting Steve’s own.

‘You’re worth the love it takes to fix this’ it’s a simple statement but Steve can’t accept it, won’t let himself. Believes it to be pity, a kindness eddie offers him out of the goodness of his heart. He can feel his head shaking minutely, eyes cast down.

‘Eddie, you don’t have to do this’ it’s despondent and flat. But eddie doesn’t back down, takes a step forward and crouches slightly so he’s in Steve’s line of sight.

‘I know I don’t. That’s why I’m here. When have I don’t anything because I have to Steve?’ He tries to let out a laugh but it doesn’t land, ‘I want to. I need to. Please don’t let this, us, go. I don’t think I can do this without you now’ it’s earnest and real and Eddie’s voice breaks at the end. One more step and Eddie is fully in his space, asking Steve with his eyes as he grabs his hands. Steve nods, let’s him take them.

‘You might not like it but I’m basically a vampire, you invited me in and now there’s no getting rid of me’ Steve looks at him. Finally let’s himself take all of eddie in and it’s a bone deep ache. He wants to pull him in close, bring him into his house, make a home for him, with him. He just wants so much and maybe it’s too much. He doesn’t realise he’s said this last part out loud, words slipping past his lips to show Eddie where it hurts.

So Eddie does what he’s been longing to do, he cradles Steve’s head between his hands ‘Steve, if this is too much i don’t want any less, ‘Kay?’ He finishes with an uncertain smile, then it’s quiet, a pause before Steve brings his own hand up over one of Eddie’s, let’s their foreheads rest together.

‘Okay’ and Steve feels a lightness threatening to break free in his chest, a dam built up and ready to burst with everything he’s been keeping back. The effort to unlearn what he’s been told will be worth it if it means he gets this. If he can look at Robin and Dustin and allow his love to fill him. If he gets eddie back.

[emily-mooon]

AU where Nancy and Vickie are ballerinas in the late 19th century and Steve takes Jonathan and Robin to a showing of Giselle where in the end Steve cries, Robin has a full on gay panic, and Jonathan is completely mesmerized by the music combined with Nancy’s performance.

[delta-piscium]

Steve holds hands for wip Wednesday 💜

thank you so much <3 sorry this is so late, I got stuck on all my writing but it is actually Wednesday today so better timing right (right?)

Steve hums in agreement, "but hey, at least we can keep each other company.” Eddie can’t help himself. He never can but especially not around Steve, he’s like a goddamn siren, or catnip. So he smirks, slants a look at him and in a voice that comes out deeper and raspier than he meant asks, “oh yeah? And what kind of company would that be?” But then, because this is Steve he backtracks, diffuses, “I could tell you about the new campaign I’m planning. I’m thinking no monsters, no fighting. Just a good happy time for everyone.” Steve peers up at him, that frown back between his eyebrows but now there’s also a glint in his eyes. One Eddie has only seen flashes off before, not now though, now it stays. Steve looks at him with interest, with determination. “You keep doing that.”  He looks between Eddie’s eyes, searching and keeping him pinned on the spot.  “You keep saying all these things filled with intent and meaning.” Eddie swallows, can’t look away. “But then nothing happens, you just switch topics, pretend like nothing. Gives me whiplash man” “I- um,” he stammers, tries to find something to say, and finally lands on, “Sorry?” Steve sits up on his elbows, still not breaking eye contact, “I just wonder why you do it?” Because you’re Steve Harrington. Because not only are you hot but so pretty that I don’t actually understand it. Because you’re so fucking kind, so caring, so good, that I can’t help but flirt even though I shouldn’t. Eddie shrugs, “dunno.”

(very late) WIP weekend (or Wednesday)/make me write

[qprstobin]

*taps microphone* this is a post about Steve in this situation with his bestie and the party, not about steddie, thank you

The fact there aren't more single dad Steve fics is surprising to me. And I don't mean like, those Steddie fics where Steve is a parent to one of the Party or st. I mean like, Steve is proudly a bit of a slut and sometimes condoms break. Why are there not more fics of like 20-22yo Steve getting suddenly saddled with a child that he didn't know existed, while everyone freaks out around him about it.

Steve wanted kids yes, but in some nebulous future and now there is a tiny person with his hair and his moles that is chewing on the collar of his shirt. He is very much not ready for this responsibility but also like, he's pretty sure that specific weird clean baby smell is curing his depression. He barely sleeps anyway this is fine, this is fine.

Robin is torn between freaking out, giving him shit, making fun of him, and spoiling the shit out of this baby because this baby is part Steve!! This baby is made from her very favorite person!!! Obviously this is going to be her favorite baby! She is extremely entranced by how tiny every baby item is too. Tiny socks, tiny hats, tiny shoes! Robin is Steve's rock and also is the one most excited to help him with said baby.

Several members of the Party literally have younger siblings and yet not a single one of them know what to do with a baby. They are staring at this tiny creature that is part??? Steve??? Like it is an alien from another planet. They are getting close to being adults and have fought monsters but the first time the baby cries while they are supposed to be watching it at least one of them nearly cries too. Dustin does the 80s equivalent of overdiagnosing via WebMB instead with medical and parenting books from the library. He always think there is something wrong every time the baby coughs. Steve appreciates how enthusiastic he is about making sure the baby is okay, but does not appreciate the extra stress.

I just think we're missing out on prime fic fodder material which is that accidents happens and I want everyone to be losing their minds because somehow trying to keep an infant alive is scarier to them than fighting monsters.

[aemondsbabe]

Give Me an O!

summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want

pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo

word count: 5k

a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @unwanted-animal

🖤 my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”

“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym. 

“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being. 

With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present. 

4:34pm.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches. 

Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back. 

You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure. 

Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back. 

Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.

Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support. 

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder. 

Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor. 

“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.

“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk. 

“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache. 

He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum. 

“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?” 

With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do. 

“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done. 

You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind. 

Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes. 

“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always. 

Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”

“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so. 

“Does Amber know that?”

He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”

“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. 

“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”

“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face. 

This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances. 

In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost. 

Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone. 

Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay. 

“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.” 

“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,” he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.” 

“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to. 

The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own. 

You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush. 

“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.

“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?” 

“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface. 

“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee. 

“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?” 

“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll. 

“Will you?”

“Not for you!” 

The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses. 

“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt. 

With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.

“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?” 

“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”

His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”

“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.

Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?” 

“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours. 

“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing. 

“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”

You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”

“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.

Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.

“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again. 

“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder. 

“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder. 

He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence. 

“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.” 

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”

“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin. 

The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back. 

With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym. 

“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice. 

Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.” 

Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.

“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”

“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.  

Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach. 

You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers. 

“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel. 

Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. 

“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner. 

“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”

You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch. 

“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”

“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room. 

Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this. 

With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.

“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours. 

The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest. 

Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him. 

“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would. 

Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration. 

“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist. 

Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee. 

You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge. 

“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible. 

After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.

Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck. 

After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up. 

“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place. 

“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”

“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.” 

“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail. 

“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”

“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?” 

“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”

“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”

“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.

“And come with me to the Halloween party?”

“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”

“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”

You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain. 

Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”

“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot. 

Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head. 

“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”

gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[steddieprompts]

Another cutesy little steddie thing. all fluff. Post vecna. 1648 words.

---

It’s not that Eddie was a wuss…

Ok maybe he was, but still this was a terrifying prospect… asking Steve Harrington out.

It didn’t help that he was getting advice from a 15 year old.

“Do you think he likes you back?”  Dustin asked, tapping a pencil against his chin.

“I don’t know, Henderson,” Eddie ran his hands over his face.  What was he doing?  “You’re supposed to be helping me figure that out.”

Dustin tapped his chin again and looked at the ceiling.

In all honesty, Eddie would usually talk to Jeff about this stuff, but he had to be visiting his family in Ohio because of stupid Thanksgiving.

“Well, you guys hang out a lot, that’s gotta count for something.”  Dustin pointed out.

“You hang out a lot with Sinclair and Wheeler.  You wanna make out with them?”  Dustin pulled a face.  “That’s what I thought.”

“I am happily in a relationship, thanks.”  Dustin pointed out.

He always had a reason to point it out.

“I know, and I would like to be as well, so if we could get back to the discussion at hand…”

“Ok, ok… Well, Steve hasn’t really been dating recently… right?”

“No, he hasn’t.”

“Maybe that means something?”

“I don’t know… He says he just hasn’t met the right person yet…”

“Well… he used ‘person,’ not ‘girl!’  That’s a good sign!”  Dustin pointed his pencil at Eddie.

“Sure, but you’re missing a key point in that statement.”  Eddie sighed.  Dustin squinted at him.  “He’s met me, Dustin.”

Dustin’s eyebrows shot up.  “Fair point.”

Eddie dropped his face into his hands.  Dustin started up again.

“Your idea that Steve might like you is a hypothesis and science dictates that the only way to conclude if a hypothesis is correct is to prove it.  To run experiments.”

Eddie let out a belabored sigh.

“So, test it,” Dustin continued. “Ask Steve out.”

Eddie stared at Dustin, knowing he was right in his own little, nerd way.

“Yeah… Ok, alright, yeah, I’ll do it.”

\\\\\\\

The next day was movie night at Steve’s with the whole crew.  The kids, Nancy, and Robin were all in the living room putting out snacks and arguing about where they would sit.  Eddie figured now was as good a time as any.  He crossed over to the kitchen, meandering over to Steve who was waiting for the popcorn in the microwave.

“Hey.”  Eddie offered once he was a few feet away.  Nailed it.

“Hey,”  Steve looked over at him, “how’s physical therapy going?  I’ve been meaning to call you, see if you needed any help.”  Steve responded with a soft smile at Eddie, the kind that made all the nervous energy in him disappear.  The microwave beeped and Steve pulled the popcorn out, hissing when he grabbed the hot part of the bag before dropping it in one of the big plastic bowls he had waiting.

Eddie grabbed another bag out of the box, unfolded it and handed it to Steve.

“Uh, good, good, I guess.  I never really know if I’m doing the exercises right.  The paper instructions are shit.”

Steve laughed at that, “Yeah, I’ve been there.  I could come over some time, help you figure them out?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.  That would be great… actually.”  Eddie swallowed.  “But, uh, before that happens, I, uh, I have to ask you something.”  Eddie stumbled over the words before looking over his shoulder, making sure no one else would be witness to him getting shot down by Steve Harrington, even if he was in a house full of friends.

“Yeah?”  Steve turned toward Eddie, leaned his hip against the counter, the picture of nonchalance.

“Yeah,” Eddie cleared his throat, “Would you, uh, ever consider, maybe… shit. Start over.”  Eddie clamped his jaw in a grimace before starting again.  He couldn’t look at Steve yet.  If he saw any bit of apprehension or negative emotion, he would never actually get the full question out.  “Would you like to go out… on a date… with me?”

Eddie finally looked at Steve instead of the cabinet behind his head.  His initial look gave him nothing.  Steve looked the same, if not a little more still, a little more focused.  But he wasn’t saying anything.  The nervous energy was back with a vengeance and Eddie was starting to feel twitchy the longer Steve stared at him.

And then Lucas walked into the kitchen.

“Is this one ready?”  he asked, pulling the bowl with the popcorn bag in it across the counter.  The microwave behind Steve beeped.  He was still staring at Eddie.  Eddie was still staring at Steve.

“Uh-huh.”  Steve answered.

“Should I get that one out?”  Lucas asked.

“I’ll get it in a second,” Steve said, his eyes now roaming over Eddie’s face.

“I don’t mind.”  Lucas offered.

“Dude.”  Steve’s eyes finally left Eddie and he felt himself deflate a little bit, muscles twinging from where he had been clenching them.  “I’ll get it. Can you give us a minute?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah? Sure?”  Lucas replied, quickly grabbing the bowl and heading back towards the living room.

Steve’s eyes flicked back to Eddie and he felt suddenly compelled to talk.  Like a tidal wave, his insecurities drowned him.

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have sprung this on you.  I’m not your type, I know. I—”

“Yes.”

“Don’t even know if…”  Eddie stopped to process what Steve said.  “Yes? Yes, I’m not your type or yes you… you want to…”

“Yes. I’ll go out with you.”

Eddie finally looked at Steve, really took him in instead of concentrating on not collapsing in on himself.  Steve looked almost… shy?  Nervous?  There was the slightest blush on his neck, the smallest, guarded smile.  He, Eddie now noticed, had been white knuckling his own arm ever since Eddie asked.

Interesting.

Eddie relaxed a little.  “Yeah?”

Steve’s smile grew bigger as he nodded. “Yeah.”

Eddie couldn’t help the smile that took over his face.  He did it.  He asked Steve out. And Steve said yes!  What’s more, Steve looked caught off guard in the best way possible.  “Oh, just you wait, Harrington.  I’m gonna wine and dine you like you’ve never been wined and dined before.” Eddie grinned.

“The popcorn’s getting cold! What’s taking you guys so long!”  Dustin yelled from the living room.

Steve turned to the microwave to get the popcorn and Eddie reveled in Steve’s smile.  The way it looked like he was restraining it, the way Steve looked lighter than he had in weeks.

They walked back to the living room together, and Eddie kicked Mike off the couch so he could sit next to Steve. Halfway through the movie, Steve slipped his hand into Eddie’s.  On impulse, he pulled Steve’s hand up to kiss the back of it, before shifting closer and leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder.  When he felt the press of Steve’s head on top of his he thought maybe he was dead.  Maybe the bats had finished him off and he was in heaven.

He would have to thank Dustin for pushing him to ask Steve.  He would never hear the end of it.

When the movie ended and everyone was leaving, Eddie hung around the living room so he would be the last to go.  He refolded the blankets, rewound the tape and put it back in its box, and picked up the popcorn bowls and candy wrappers.  He was in the kitchen throwing things out, thinking maybe he had enough time to run to the bathroom, when Steve reappeared.

“Everyone head out?”  Eddie asked as Steve approached him.

“Mhmm.”  He replied before stepping around the kitchen island and stopping in front of Eddie. “Coast is clear.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie grinned, stepping closer.

“Mmm,” Steve hummed before leaning in, pressing his lips to Eddie’s.

Eddie had kissed quite a few people before, boys and girls alike, but this kiss with Steve.  It was different.  It filled him up, distracted him from everything else so that when his back hit the counter it almost startled him.

“Sorry.”  Steve hummed, pulling away.

“Don’t be.”  Eddie managed to get out before pulling Steve back in.  He was definitely in heaven.  Except in heaven, he wouldn’t be almost peeing his pants.  Curse that whole bottle of coke.

Eddie pulled back with a soft, ‘shit.’

“You okay?”  Steve asked.

“Yeah, fantastic, great. Except I think I’m about to pee my pants. Don’t go anywhere, Big Boy.”  Eddie said before practically running to the bathroom, Steve’s surprised laughter following him down the hall.

When he got back, Steve was washing the popcorn bowls and pizza plates from earlier in the night, sweater pushed up to his elbows, the locks of hair hanging in his eyes swinging with his movements.  Eddie stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist.

“No one has ever asked me out.”  Steve said after a few seconds.

“What?”  Eddie let go in surprise, moving next to Steve so he could see his face.  “Seriously?”

Steve nodded.

“The way girls talked about you I would have thought they would be lining up.”  Eddie mused.

“No. I’m the guy, you know?  I mean they definitely dropped hints, but none of them asked me.”

Eddie reveled in that for a second.  He was the first person to ask Steve Harrington out.

“So, how does it feel being on the receiving end?”  Eddie asked, nudging Steve.

“So good.”  Steve smiled at him, the sincerity of his words bleeding out of him so much that Eddie had to dart forward and peck him on the cheek.

“Where do you want to go?”  Eddie asked.

“You said you were gonna wine and dine me,” Steve replied, “I trust you.”

Those words sent a bolt of pure reassurance through Eddie.  “Oh, Steve Harrington,” he half sing-songed, half chuckled, “I’m gonna date you so hard.”

[ultimate-shipper-blog]

My Darling

"Who even is that guy?"

"That's my darling"

----

It starts with a post.

Eddie had posted a photo on Instagram holding his acoustic guitar, cross legged on a chair.

Recently he had been front cover of a magazine of 'him' wrapped around a young woman. Living the Rockstar life.

His agent had suggested he show a more domestic side to him, a softer side.

Hence the acoustic.

It was summer so Steve was off of work and sleeping on the couch behind him, blankets up to his ears. The only thing visible was his hair peeking out and his arm hanging over the side of the couch. A sleeve of tattoos running down it all the way to his knuckles. Eddie loved that arm. He loved the way the tattoo curved around his knuckles like water. His nice, big. veiny hand that-

WOAH off topic.

He had done half the tattoos himself and made sure he payed for it all.It was the least he could do for all Steve has done for him.

They met eight and a half years ago, Steve had seen Eddie play at shitty clubs and recognized his mop of hair getting hit in the alleyway.

Eddie thought he was a goner for sure until Steve ripped the guy off him.

Steve just shot him a smile and complimented his guitar skills.

Eddie fell to his knees. He was gone for him.

He invited Steve to band practice as a thank you since he didn't have much to offer.

Two weeks later they were dating and Steve has been their number one fan since.

When Eddie got the record deal he dedicated everything to Steve.

Everything always was for him. As it should be.

Anyways,

Eddie posted the photo excited to promote the acoustic cover of his hit song 'My Hero, My Darling'.

The comments instantly went ballistic asking who the random man behind him was. He definitely wasn't in the band and why would notorious lady killer Eddie Munson have a man in his house...he couldn't possibly have friends.

Eddie responded to one comment only, knowing the rest would sort itself out.

"That's my darling ❤️"

----

"Eddie," Steve was frowning at him, poking his side with his foot.

"Eddie look at me this is serious."

"Yes my love?"

"You outed yourself. You were doing such a good job keeping this a secret. This will change everything."

Eddie turns over until his holding Steve close to him, his face in his hands.

"Good. I'm tired of hiding you my darling. I'm tired of the accusations."

"But Eddie you OUTED yourself."

"I won't say anything about you, I'd never out you Stevie. But I'm done hiding that I'm a simple man in love."

"...me too. I'm done too."

"Darling are you sure? This is a big deal. What about your school? Your principal?"

"I don't care. Everyone important to me knows. My family, my real family, know and don't care. They do wonder why I've been single for eight years but they'll get over it."

"Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me oh my god that's the hottest thing I've ever heard. I love you so much please I can't live another moment not having you mine. Besides, if you get fired that's definitely a lawsuit and you know I've been pleasing for you to quit so I can take care of you, but you love those damn kids. Just...be mine...please."

"I've been yours. Since the start. Since always." They both have tears in their eyes.

"Yes?"

"YES OF COURSE YES!"

They're giggling through their kisses.

---

"Heeeeyyy everyone thanks for joining my live. I have something super important to inform you on! I'm getting married!!!!!"

The comments instantly flood in questioning him on moving too fast, asking if he's on drugs. The usual.

"Oooooh you guys have no idea."

----

The photo goes up an hour after the live ends.

It's Steve sitting on the couch, glasses on, red pen in his mouth. He's wearing a thick sweater and grumbling grading papers.

He looks so soft, so smooth, it's Eddie's favorite picture. The next picture in the carousel is Steve backstage at his concert. They're holding onto each other like they need each other to breathe.

The last picture is a selfie taken minutes after. Eddie with his stage makeup sweating off his face smiling brightly at the camera. and Steve kissing his cheek. Eyes squinted shut and eyeliner thick, he had worn it as a treat for Eddie.

It was well received.

The caption reads:

"I'm so happy to announce I'm marrying my best friend and partner of eight years! Everyone meet my darling. Steve is a local middle school teacher who has literally saved my life more than once. He saved my heart. God, I love him so much.

P.s. yes the tours are in the summer so Stevie can travel with us. I'd never leave him."

---

Bonus engagement edition:

"YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED TO EDDIE MUNSON?!"

"Yes. We've been over this."

Eddie stuck out his hand to shake, "hi, Eddie Munson, nice to meet you."

"YOU HID THIS FOR EIGHT YEARS?!"

"Yes."

"I'M BASICALLY YOUR BROTHER! HE'S MY FAVORITE CELEBRITY!"

"Yes Dustin and you can't keep a secret."

"...fair...welcome to the family."

*inspired by my friend only learning her cousin was marrying someone famous when he showed up to Thanksgiving and she lost her mind

[buckyalpine]

I've always had this acting AU idea where you and Bucky are co-stars in a movie/tv show and your characters are enemies. It makes people feral because you're both so crazy attractive but you just hate each other so much on screen and your story lines have you at each others throats.

Now the part I love with this idea is the press actually thinking you don't get along with him whatsoever and thinking there's drama between the cast because you're never around with them. Whenever they hang out together, literally everyone by you is there. There are so many rumors about how Bucky can't stand working with you and how the cast leaves you out. Natasha even had a thanksgiving dinner recently and the Instagram photo she posted has literally everyone present but you.

Things heat up even more when you barely update your own socials after filming wrapped up. You basically disappeared and it confirms everyone's suspicions. The only time you post here and there is when you're at home alone, doing your own thing. You're never present in any of the interviews. No one ever comments even when they're directly asked about you. There has to be drama.

It's been over a year of near radio silence and people anticipating for the release of this movie.

I love the idea of the movie premier day being full of anticipation and people buzzing over if Bucky would bring a date, if you'd even show up, wondering how you'd interact with everyone else. No one's even seen you but you're one of the main characters so you have to show-

A large black SUV rolls up.

Then Bucky steps out.

Everyone screams. He looks stunning in his all black suit, with his scruffy beard and chestnut locks. Instead of making his way down the red carpet, he stays in place waiting for someone to join him.

Confused murmurs start among the screaming.

And then.

He holds his hand out to help you out.

And everyone goes absolutely wild as you step out, seeing your very round baby bump and that ring on your finger. He makes a show of kissing you deeply before walking you down and of course the cast showers you in love and hugs as if you're all in your own little bubble.

They already knew all long. The secret, low key relationship with you and Bucky. You didn't want people to know because it would bring on so much speculation and scrutiny. When everyone bombards you both with what's going on, Bucky only answers one reporters question with a simple "I'm here with my wife"

Seriously, people can't handle it.

A few days after the reveal, Bucky, you and the rest of the cast including Sam, Steve, Nat and so many others post all the outings they had where you were actually present. The "thanks giving dinner" was actually your baby shower. So many pictures where they're holding your bump with "aunt" and "uncle" sashes tied around them. Pictures from the secret wedding. The honeymoon. The cutest pictures of Bucky cuddled up with you; wholesome intimate moments with you and him. Moments with getting mani pedis with Nat and Wanda.

No on can understand how this was all hidden so well. No one would have guessed.

Weeks later you have your babies and this time everyone posts pictures, all of them surrounding you in the hospital.

Seriously, this reveal breaks the internet in a way you'd never imagine.

[sundropflowerr]

Trace Your Constellations | Steve Harrington

★ Warnings: no use of y/n, post s3 before s4, fluff, mutual pining, awkward tension, idiot duo in love, light teasing, longing glances, emotional vulnerability, quiet moments, quiet comfort, moments of personal growth, slight self-doubt.

★ Summary: After everything Hawkins put you through, you and Steve find yourselves on the roof of Family Video, stargazing and toeing the line between friends and something more. It’s quiet, it’s soft, and maybe—just maybe—he’s finally seeing the stars the way you do. 2k

★ Pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

★ Fic Inspiration: “Constellations: Piano Version” - Jade LeMac

★ Author's Note: thank you to @enchanthings for the star divider, it’s greatly appreciated and i love love love it. this is my first writing piece, i can’t believe it! though it might be messy and only a one-shot, i hope you all enjoy it.

You and Steve Harrington were stuck together like glue.

Not by choice at first, but that didn’t seem to matter now.

Somewhere between the Byers’ house, where Steve first swung that nail-studded bat like a maniac to protect everyone, and the tunnels beneath Hawkins, where he grabbed your shoulder and told you “We’re getting out of this. Just keep moving,” something shifted. After Starcourt—after fire, smoke, and holding his hand in the parking lot while you stared at the wreckage—it stopped being just survival.

It was the last-night drives when neither of you could sleep, the lazy afternoons when he’d lean on the counter at the music store you worked at, flipping through cassette tapes just to annoy you.

Steve still insists he just hangs out with you because your music store is “conveniently” across the street. He’ll pop in during his shifts at Family Video, lean against the counter like he owns the place, and pick apart the stack of cassette tapes you’re organizing. “What’s this? Too cool for a little Springsteen?” he’d say, tossing you his signature smug grin. You’d roll your eyes, toss it right back, and remind him he only listens to what you tell him to.

Robin called it weeks ago. “You guys are, like, weirdly close.” Eddie had chimed in too, smirking like he knew something you didn’t: “You two ever gonna admit you’re basically one soft moment away from a rom-com montage?” You brushed them off every time—what did they know?

But it’s harder to brush them off when you’re here, on the roof, the quiet of the summer night pressing in around you. It’s the kind of quiet you only get after midnight in Hawkins, where the cicadas buzz in the distance and the stars shine brighter because half the town’s lights don’t work right. The air smells faintly of asphalt and cut grass, warm but with the promise of cooler hours ahead, and everything feels still—so still it’s like the world’s holding its breath.

It had been Steve’s idea, though he acted like it wasn’t a big deal—like he didn’t spend half his shift thinking it up. Earlier that afternoon, you’d walked into Family Video, the bell above the door jingling like it always did, announcing your presence. The store smelled faintly like stale popcorn and cleaning spray, and Steve was leaning back against the counter, his green vest rumpled, hands shoved in his pockets. Robin, crouched on the floor with a stack of tapes, only glanced up long enough to mutter something sarcastic before diving back into organizing the horror section.

“Finally,” Steve said, pushing himself up with exaggerated relief. “Someone who’s not Robin to keep me entertained.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m here for you,” you shot back, a grin tugging at your lips as you perched yourself on the counter next to him. The surface was cool against the back of your legs, and you kicked your feet slightly, heels bumping the cabinets beneath.

Robin, without looking up, waved a hand in Steve’s direction. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s been staring at the clock for twenty minutes.”

Steve groaned loudly in her direction, rolling his eyes before turning back to you. “Slow day. Feels like we’re in some kind of weird dead zone where no one in this godforsaken town likes movies anymore.”

“Or maybe they just don’t like you.” Robin’s voice was muffled as she slid another tape onto the shelf.

Steve ignored her, squinting at you like he was trying to gauge your mood. “What are you doing later?”

You raised an eyebrow. “That depends. Why?”

He scratched at the back of his neck, looking down like he was embarrassed to even ask. “I was just thinking…” He paused, tilting his head slightly to the side as if he’d decided to go for it. “It’s a nice night. After my shift, you wanna hang out? On the roof.”

“The roof?”

“Yeah. Of this fine establishment.” He knocked his knuckles lightly against the counter like he was showing off prime real estate, a little smile tugging at his lips. “You can see the stars better up there. Plus, it’s quiet. Robin and I go up sometimes. It’s… nice.”

You tilted your head at him, watching the way he shifted his weight slightly, like he wasn’t sure you’d say yes. “The stars, huh? No thrilling Steve Harrington monologue about life and the meaning of the universe?”

He groaned, throwing his head back in dramatic exasperation. “Forget it. Invite taken back.”

You laughed, nudging his arm with your shoulder, feeling the soft warmth of his skin through his vest. “Relax. I’ll come. It sounds nice.”

He looked back at you, his face softening into a crooked smile, his eyes lingering on yours for a beat too long. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And now, here you were. Hours later, the summer night stretching endlessly above you, blanketed by stars that seemed impossibly bright. Steve had climbed up first—grabbing onto the edge of the roof like it was nothing and pulling himself up before leaning down to offer you a hand. His fingers were warm and solid when they wrapped around yours, tugging you up with more strength than you’d anticipated. You’d stumbled slightly when you landed, but Steve’s other hand shot out, steadying you with a muttered, “Careful there.”

The roof wasn’t the most comfortable place in the world, but Steve had brought a blanket—some old, ugly checkered thing that smelled faintly of fabric softener and the inside of a car that’s been baking in the sun. You sat shoulder to shoulder, your knees bent, elbows resting against them as you both stared at the sky. The gravel beneath the blanket shifted slightly every time you moved, the crunch of it loud in the otherwise perfect stillness.

Steve stretched his arms out behind him, fingers splayed against the gravel as he leaned back to look at the sky. The muscles in his forearms flexed slightly, catching in the faint light from the streetlamps below. “Told you the roof was a good idea,” he said, breaking the quiet.

You tilted your head, glancing over at him. His hair—wild as ever—stuck up slightly, the edges catching the faintest breeze. The light shadow of stubble along his jaw was more noticeable from this angle, and you caught yourself lingering on the sight before you could stop.

“It’s alright,” you said, teasing. “Not as magical as you made it sound, though.”

Steve turned to you, lips parting into a look of mock offense. “Not as magical? What more do you want? I brought you here, gave you a prime stargazing spot—this is, like, peak effort.”

You laugh, stretching your legs out a little, the soles of your sneakers scuffing against the gravel. “Peak effort would’ve been snacks. Maybe a soda.”

“Oh, sorry I didn’t roll out the red carpet for you.” He shook his head with a dramatic sigh, though there was a smile pulling at his lips. “Next time I’ll bring a waiter.”

“Next time, huh?”

His shoulders froze for half a second, like he hadn’t realized he’d said it, before he relaxed again. “Yeah, well… if you’re lucky.”

You smiled faintly, looking back up at the stars. The quiet slipped back in, the kind of quiet that feels like a blanket wrapping around you—soft and warm and perfectly still. The cicadas buzzed faintly in the distance, their hum mixing with the occasional rustle of leaves in the trees far below. The sky stretched endlessly above, a wash of navy and scattered constellations, and for a moment, it was easy to forget about everything else.

And when Steve shifted beside you—just barely, so his shoulder bumped yours—you felt yourself still, suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between you.

Steve stretches his arms behind his head, breaking the silence. “You know, I still don’t get constellations.”

You look over, amused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like…” He tilts his head back, gesturing vaguely at the sky. “They say that’s a guy with a sword, or whatever? That’s just dots. Someone’s connecting invisible lines, and we’re all supposed to be impressed.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s Orion’s Belt, and you just have no imagination, Harrington.”

Steve turns to you, his mouth twitching into that lopsided grin he always gets when he’s ready to argue with you. “I have plenty of imagination, thank you very much. I’ve survived monsters and alternate dimensions. I just think stars are trying a little too hard, you know?”

“Stars are trying too hard?” you say, incredulous. “What does that even mean?”

“It means…” He pauses, looking up at the sky again, brow furrowed like he’s actually trying to make sense of it. “I think people try too hard to make them something they’re not. Can’t they just be stars?”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway. “Or maybe you’re just too stubborn to let yourself see them.”

Steve doesn’t answer right away. The quiet slips back in, softer this time, and you watch as he exhales slowly, his gaze lingering on the sky. “Maybe,” he finally says, almost too low for you to hear.

Something about it makes your chest ache a little. You don’t know when it started—this feeling you get when Steve’s around—but it’s been there more and more lately. It’s in the way he drops by the music store to kill time, like he doesn’t have anywhere better to be. It’s in the way he always lets you pick the music, even if he pretends to hate half of it. It’s in the way he remembers the tiniest details about you—like how you can’t sleep without white noise, or how you take your coffee with exactly one and a half sugars because two is too sweet but one isn’t enough.

And now it’s here, in the way he looks so at ease next to you, like there’s no place he’d rather be.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” you ask suddenly, your voice breaking the quiet. “Like, leaving Hawkins?”

Steve hums in thought, eyes still on the sky. “Yeah, sometimes. I mean, how could I not? This place is cursed.”

You huff out a quiet laugh. “No kidding.”

“But…” He trails off, turning his head to look at you. His voice is quieter when he continues. “I don’t know. I think it’s different now. Before, I wanted to leave because I didn’t have anything here. I thought I’d find it somewhere else. But…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, and for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to. You’re pretty sure you already know what he’s trying to say.

The air between you shifts, subtle but noticeable. Steve’s looking at you now, really looking at you, and it makes you hyper-aware of every inch of space between you—how close your hands are on the blanket, how his knee bumps yours every time he shifts.

“What?” you ask softly, because the way he’s staring at you is starting to make your heart do stupid things.

Steve shakes his head, smiling faintly. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, fine.” He sighs, tipping his head back against the gravel like he’s trying to play it cool. “It’s just… nights like this, you know? When it’s quiet, and you’re here. Makes me think maybe Hawkins isn’t so bad.”

You freeze, your breath catching in your chest. He says it so casually, like it doesn’t mean anything, but you know Steve. You know when he’s being flippant and when he’s saying something real, and this? This is real.

“Yeah,” you say after a moment, your voice quieter now. “I get that.”

You don’t look at him, but you feel his hand brush against yours—barely there, just his pinky against your knuckle. It’s so small you could pretend it didn’t happen, but you don’t. Instead, you let your hand relax, let your fingers rest just close enough to his that you know he can feel it.

Steve doesn’t say anything about it, but you can tell he notices. You can tell because his breathing changes, because he’s suddenly so still next to you.

“Hey,” he says after a minute, voice soft.

“Yeah?”

“I see it.”

You blink, finally turning your head to look at him. “See what?”

He grins, barely there but still so Steve, and nods toward the sky. “Orion’s Belt. The dots.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Took you long enough.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand.

And you don’t seem to mind.

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