Request: Idiots in Love idea for skinny Steve, if you're up for it. Steve knows he's too short, too scrawny, too sickly to ever be your type. Sure every time you've gone out with someone it's a punch to the gut, but he can't say anything. You're too good for him. You know you're too big, too tall for Steve to ever want you. Especially as all the dates you go on confirm you're not pretty enough. Sure every time Bucky sets Steve up on a date it's a punch to the gut, not you can't say anything. You're not good enough for him. - Zombie @thezombieprostitute
Summary: After so many dates being shoddy or uninteresting, you and Steve finally admit your feelings for each other much to the delight of Bucky. [WC 1.3K] [ao3]
Warnings: Skinny!Steve, Reader Idiots in Love
Steve notices first. He always does.
It’s not even intentional anymore—it’s just instinct. The way his eyes track you when you walk into a room, like something in him settles the second you’re there. Like oh, okay, everything’s where it’s supposed to be now.
And then, The guy beside you. Taller than Steve. Broader. Easy smile. The kind of guy who doesn’t look like he has to try to exist.
Steve’s stomach drops. He looks away fast, like he’s been burned.
“Don’t,” Bucky mutters beside him, not even looking up from his drink.
“Don’t what?” Steve says too quickly.
“Do that thing where you pretend you don’t care.”
Steve scoffs, but it’s weak. “I don’t— Buck, she’s just—she’s dating. That’s… normal.”
Normal. Yeah. Normal for someone like you. Not for someone like him. Across the room, you laugh at something your date says—and it’s not even a big laugh. Just a small one. Polite. Careful.
Steve knows your real laugh. That loud, unguarded one you try to hide behind your hand. The one that makes your shoulders shake. You’re not doing that now.
But the guy doesn’t notice. Of course he doesn’t. Why would he look that closely?
Steve’s jaw tightens.
“Go talk to her,” Bucky says.
“No.”
“Stevie—”
“No,” he repeats, sharper this time. “She’s… she’s got someone.”
Someone better. Someone who doesn’t look like they might get knocked over by a strong breeze. Someone who doesn’t have to hide how winded they get from climbing stairs. Someone who doesn’t have everything wrong with them. Steve grips his glass a little tighter.
“She deserves…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Not me.”
You notice too. You always do. It’s stupid, really. The way your attention drifts no matter who you’re with, no matter what they’re saying. Like there’s a magnet in your chest and it’s always—always—pulling you back to him. Steve. Sitting across the room. Small in his chair, like he’s trying to take up less space. Shoulders slightly hunched, hands wrapped around his drink like he’s not sure what else to do with them.
He looks… nice. He always looks nice. Soft. Gentle. Careful. The kind of person people overlook. The kind of person you notice too much.
“—and then I told him, I said, no way, man—hey, you listening?”
You blink, dragged back. “Yeah—sorry,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… long day.”
Your date chuckles. “Yeah? You seem kinda distracted.”
Because you are. Because every time you look over, Steve looks away like he’s not allowed to be caught staring. Because earlier, you saw the girl Bucky introduced him to.
Pretty. Small. Everything you’re not.
Your stomach twists.
“Do you… wanna get out of here?” your date asks, leaning in slightly.
You freeze. Because this is the part where you say yes. This is the part where you prove you’re normal, that you can do this, that you’re not— Your eyes flick up again.
Steve’s already looking. And for a split second, neither of you look away. It’s quiet. Just for a heartbeat. Something soft and aching passes between you.
Then he drops his gaze. Of course he does. He always does.
You swallow. “…Actually,” you say, pulling back slightly, “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”
Your date frowns. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
You don’t wait for him to argue. You just grab your bag and turn—and walk straight toward Steve.
He doesn’t realize you’re coming until you’re there.
“Hey,” you say.
Steve looks up so fast he nearly knocks his glass over. “H—hey,” he stammers, scrambling to steady it. “I thought—you were—uh—”
“On a date?” you finish, a little wry.
“Yeah. That.”
You shrug, trying to play it off. “Didn’t really feel like one.”
Something flickers across his face. Hope. Quick and fragile. “Oh.”
There’s a pause. Awkward. Thick. God, why is this always so hard?
You shift your weight. “How about you? Your… uh… setup?”
Steve lets out a small, humorless huff. “Left. While I was in the bathroom.”
Your heart drops. “What? Why?”
He shrugs, but it’s too casual, too practiced. “Guess I’m not exactly—” he cuts himself off. Don’t say it. Don’t. “—what people are looking for,” he finishes quietly.
Something sharp twists in your chest. “Steve—”
“It’s fine,” he says quickly. “Really. I mean—look at me.”
And there it is. That self-deprecating little laugh. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s fact.
You stare at him. “Yeah,” you say slowly. “Look at you.”
Steve blinks, confused by your tone.
“You’re kind,” you continue. “And funny. And you remember stupid little things I say from weeks ago. You walk me home even when it’s out of your way. You—” your voice wobbles slightly, but you push through, “—you’re the only person who actually sees me.”
He goes very still.
“Why would anyone not be looking for that?” you ask softly.
Steve’s throat works. “Because,” he says, barely above a whisper, “that’s not enough.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I know.”
His eyes snap up to yours. “What?”
You laugh, but it’s small. Not your real one. “Every guy I go out with makes it pretty clear,” you say. “Too tall. Too much. Not exactly what they had in mind.”
“Is it?” you shoot back, a little sharper than you meant. “Because it keeps happening, Stevie.”
Silence. Heavy.
Then, quieter he says, “You deserve better than them.”
You almost smile. “Funny,” you say. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
Steve frowns. “What?”
“You deserve someone who actually wants you,” you say, your voice softening again. “Someone who doesn’t walk out. Someone who—” You stop.
Because his expression has changed. Completely. “—someone who what?” he asks.
Your heart is pounding now. This is it. You can feel it. That edge you’ve both been circling forever. “Someone who doesn’t think they’re too good for you,” you finish, barely audible.
Steve stares at you. “You think that’s why I don’t—?” he cuts himself off, shaking his head. “No. No, I don’t— I don’t think I’m too good for you.”
“Then why don’t you ever—?” you start, frustration slipping through.
“Because you are,” he blurts.
You freeze. “…what?”
“You’re too good for me,” Steve says, all at once, like it’s been trapped in his chest for too long. “You always have been. I mean—look at you. And look at me. I can barely— I’m not— I’m just—”
“Steve.”
He stops.
Your voice is steady now. “Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?” He flinches slightly. “I’ve spent months thinking I wasn’t good enough for you,” you continue. “That you’d never look at me like that. That you’d always want someone smaller, prettier—”
“Prettier?” he echoes, genuinely baffled. “Are you serious?”
“Yes!”
“You’re—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head like he can’t even process it. “You’re the most—” He stops again. Takes a breath. Tries again. “You’re it for me,” he says, simply.
The world goes very, very quiet.
“…what?” you whisper.
Steve swallows hard. “You’re it,” he repeats. “Have been. For a while now. I just… figured you’d never want—” he gestures vaguely at himself, “—this.”
You step closer. Close enough that he forgets how to breathe. “You’re an idiot,” you murmur.
His lips twitch faintly. “Yeah. I’ve been told.”
“Good,” you say. “Because I’m apparently one too.”
And then—before you can overthink it, before he can talk himself out of it again— You kiss him. It’s soft. A little clumsy. Like neither of you quite believe it’s happening. Steve makes a small, startled sound against your lips, hands hovering awkwardly for half a second before settling—hesitant, careful—at your waist. Like he’s afraid you might disappear. You don’t. You lean in closer instead. And when you pull back, just barely— He’s looking at you like the world just rewrote itself.
“Hi,” you whisper.
Steve lets out a shaky breath. “…hi.”
Across the room, Bucky slams his hand on the table. “FINALLY.”
Neither of you even look at him. Because for once— You’re both exactly where you’re supposed to be.
Heroes | Stranger Things x Fem!Henderson!Reader (Interactive!) | Chapter 4 - 16 Candles
SUMMARY: An unexpected group of outcasts and nerds must come together to solve their small town’s mysteries, learning what it means to become found family and heroes.
INTERACTIVE: This story is completely interactive! Place votes at the end of each chapter to determine which paths you go down! Every decision matters!!
A/N: While you will go on a ‘date’ with the person who won the last poll, they definitely will not 100% be the final person you end up with! Your romantic relationship with them just grows and you’ll be more likely to end up with them in the long run!
WARNINGS: Reader cuts hand to lure demogorgon, mentions of blood.
WC: 5.9K
Heroes Masterlist!
Main Masterlist!
Your fingers shook as you counted the knives, placing them on the counter as you went along.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
“Hey,” a voice sounded from behind you.
You jolted, dropping the other two knives, that you had in your hands, onto the floor, a loud clang sounding right after.
You turned around and there he was, already kneeling down, picking them up.
He stood up, putting them on the counter. “Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and shook your head, looking up at him. “No, you’re fine,” you replied. “Just…think I’m a little on edge,” you admitted.
Who could blame you?
From the monster to the Upside Down to the girl with the powers who found out Barbara was dead, you were tense to say the least.
And now, you were about to lure the monster to yourselves in an attempt to kill it. The same monster who had taken Will and killed Barbara.
It was silent for a moment as he just stared down at you. You were expecting him to say something, as he had come up to you, but he didn’t.
He just had this look in his eye, this look that made you second guess what he wanted.
“Did you need something, Harrington?” you asked.
Steve snapped out of it, shifting awkwardly. He placed a hand on the counter, shifting his weight. He ran his other hand through his hair, eyes focused on the floor. “I uh…” he trailed off. “I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit lately,” he breathed out. “And…I guess it got me thinking.”
You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him with curiosity. “Thinking about what?”
Steve hesitated. Whatever he was about to say could make or break what you two had. He’d rather not jeopardize the relationship you’ve already made over the week, but his heart begged him to be honest.
His heart pleaded with him, wanting him to tell the truth. His mind told him to do it, to risk it all in that moment because if there was anything he had learned in the past week, it was that life was much too short to have regrets.
“Well, I’ve just realized how another day of life is never promised,” he sighed, eyes still fixated on the floor. “And, I mean, we’re about to lure a monster here, and-”
“Stop,” you interrupted him. He finally looked down at you, eyes burning into yours. “We’re gonna be fine, don’t say that.”
Steve nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he whispered. “We’re gonna be fine,” he repeated, an attempt to speak it into existence.
It was quiet again.
Just you and him consumed by a silence, your thoughts lingering.
Your hearts beginning to beat the same rhythm.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized, breaking the silence.
Steve furrowed his brows. “Sorry for what?”
“Dragging you into all of this,” you sighed, looking down at your shoes.
You regretted being the reason he went into the Upside Down that night, giving him unnecessary trauma.
You regretted being the reason he got arrested and ended up at the Byers’ house with you, risking his life yet again.
But, you didn’t see the other side of it.
He did it all willingly.
Steve shook his head. “Do you regret asking me to borrow the Beamer?” he chuckled. “Because I don’t,” he shrugged.
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. How could he not regret it? Why would he be okay with what was?
“You don’t?” you asked.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d do it over and over again knowing I get to talk to you by the pool that night, and finally feel like…” he trailed off, his mind searching for the words. “Feel like I was right where I wanted to be.”
Your expression softened. “Henderson,” he said, reaching for your hand. His thumb grazed over your knuckles, sending shivers throughout your body.
Almost some sort of electricity.
“When all of this is over, after we kill this thing,” he said, eyes burning into yours. “Do you, maybe want to…hang out? Just the two of us?”
Your heart rate picked up, not in fear or anticipation, but in excitement.
Your eyes widened, truly grasping what he had just said. “Like- like a date?” you asked.
You liked Steve, you liked him a lot, but you wanted to take things slow. See where things went naturally.
You didn’t want to dive into a romantic relationship with him and regret it later, never being able to go back to your friendship.
Not to mention, you had just met a week ago. As much as you couldn’t admit it, it felt like it had been much longer.
There was that trauma bond your little brother was talking about.
Steve took a step closer to you. You were both close, so close.
Almost as close as when he fell into your arms that night.
He read your mind almost instantly. “A date, or just a hangout as friends. Whatever you want it to be,” he said, tone soft and careful.
You let go of Steve’s hand gently. “How about as friends and we see where it goes from there?” you suggested, a smile on your face.
Steve nodded in agreement, his lips pulling upward into a loopy smile. “I’d like that.”
Someone cleared their throat nearby.
You took a few steps away from Steve, looking over to see Eddie right at the entrance of the kitchen. His expression wasn’t the bright and bubbly one it usually was.
It was replaced by something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
But, his eyes burned into yours.
Something was shifting in his mind, but you couldn’t quite read him in that moment.
“We’re ready,” Eddie said. “Whenever you guys are done doing… whatever it is that you’re doing.”
He turned on his heel faster than necessary and walked into the living room.
You snatched the knives off of the counter and followed him quickly. He stopped at the middle of the living room where Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin were waiting. Steve was a few steps behind you, catching up.
You handed everyone a knife, you all standing in a circle.
“Remember,” Jonathan began, going over the plan.
“Straight into Will’s room,” Nancy said.
“Don’t step on the trap,” Robin chimed in, this step the most important for herself as her hand eye coordination was imparatively off.
“Wait for the yo-yo to move,” Eddie added.
“Then,” you said, flickering your lighter in your fingers. “Light that shit on fire.”
Steve let out a nervous breath of air. “Okay…” Steve trailed off, staring at the knife in his hand. “Are we ready?” he asked, looking up at everyone.
Nancy hesitated from beside you, looking down at the palm of her hand. “Ready.”
Robin winced, lifting her knife towards her hand, ready to go. “I…” she breathed out, eyes shut. “Okay, yeah, I’m ready,” she spewed out, shaking her body in an attempt to shake her nerves off.
Eddie hesitated to pick up his knife, staring at his hand. “Yup, let’s go,” he said rather quickly.
You and Jonathan nodded, sharing a “Ready.”
You all had your left palms facing up, the cool blade of the knife against your warm skin.
Your hand shook in anticipation.
“On three,” Jonathan instructed.
You all nodded, sharing an uncertain glance.
“One…two…” he counted. “Three.”
And in one swift motion, you all cut a sharp line through the palm of your hands.
Eddie dropped his knife, the metal hitting the floor with a loud thud. “Ah! Fuck!”
Robin side eyed Eddie, blood trickling down her hand. “Bit dramatic, huh?”
Eddie gave her a dirty look before moving over to the couch with Robin to wrap her hand.
Jonathan and Nancy were in the kitchen tending to each other and you and Steve were on the living room floor.
He wrapped the gauze around your hand, gentle fingers caressing your warm skin every now and then. “Is that too tight?” he asked.
“No,” you shook your head as he taped it off.
It was not your turn to wrap his hand, your fingers delicately wrapping the gauze around his cut.
“I swear, you’re always beat up,” you said.
Steve raised a brow. “Always is a bit of a stretch, huh?”
You laughed as you wrapped his hand, looking up at him. “Your face is still all messed up.”
He still had some dried blood on his skin, his bottom lip was cut, and the side of his face was bruised, turning hues of purple and red.
And yet, he still thought he won that fight with Tommy H.
Steve smiled. “Doesn’t hurt much,” he shrugged. “I think my hand is in more pain.”
Your fingers brushed against his skin, taping off the gauze. He watched you intently, about to say something when suddenly, the lights in the room began to flicker.
The sound of something cracking sounding from the ceiling. You looked up behind you with wide eyes. The ceiling was opening, paint falling to the floor in the corner of the room.
Nancy and Jonathan came rushing into the living room.
Steve pulled you up to your feet with his hand and pulled you away from the corner of the room, where the ceiling cracked open. He grabbed your lighter and hairspray, rushing over to you, handing you your weapons.
“Holy fucking shit!” Eddie shouted, nearly flying off of the couch, eyes wide and focused on the ceiling. He fell onto the floor and Robin yanked him up in an instant, both of them rushing behind Nancy who had her gun ready to shoot.
The monster’s head came through the wall first, then the arms.
Nancy began to fire shots at it, but it just kept creeping into the room without any harm.
You grabbed Nancy’s wrist, pulling her away right when the monster came through the ceiling, landing on the floor. Its mouth opened up as it screeched. All of you bolted down the hallway. You were behind Robin, she almost tripped over the bear trap, running into the wall, slamming her shoulder into it.
“Shit!” she shouted, her foot just barely missing the trap.
Lights flashed, breaths were heavy and hot, heart rates rose to astronomical levels.
You jumped over the bear trap and racing into Will’s room, Steve, the last one in, slammed the door shut.
Nancy pointed her gun to the door, Jonathan had his bat, ready to swing, Steve had the knife he cut his hand with in his hand (as if it would do anything) and you had the lighter ready to go, hairspray in your other hand.
Eddie and Robin stood a few steps behind you, nunchucks and frying pan in hand.
The creature made a few noises as you all watched in silence as the yo-yo on the chair remained unmoved.
Nancy furrowed her brows, the sound of the bear trap not going off. “What’s it doing?”
“I don’t know,” Jonathan breathed.
Suddenly, the lights stopped flashing.
It was gone.
It was silent for a moment, all of you trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
“Hey, let me see that,” Steve said, looking at the bat in Jonathan’s hand.
“Use your butter knife,” Jonathan said, nodding at the knife in Steve’s hand.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Okay, first of all, it’s not a butter knife. I literally cut my hand with it,” he corrected Jonathan. “Second of all, what the hell is this gonna do?” he asked, waving the knife around, nearly hitting Eddie in the face, who jumped back.
Jonathan groaned and handed Steve the bat. Steve reached for the door handle and slowly creaked the door open, creeping out into the hallway.
You followed right behind him, the rest of your group coming as well.
Your hand was on Steve’s shoulder, Nancy’s hand on yours from behind.
You all crouched, as if it would prevent the creature from getting to you. Your bodies were close together, fearful of the monster’s return.
The house remained quiet, no reminisce of the monster, except for the spot on the ceiling, otherwise, it looked like it was never there.
You finally made your way to the living room.
No trace of the monster.
No nothing.
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as they scanned the room. “Did I just cut my hand for nothing?” Eddie grumbled. “I swear-”
“Oh, shut up,” Robin groaned. “It probably left because it knew you were here,” she spat, swinging her pan up in his direction to point at him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Take it how you want.”
Before Eddie could come up with a quick remark, the lights began to flash again. This time, more intense. Every time the lights shut off the room was engulfed in an uneasy darkness for longer than necessary.
Almost like it was toying with you all, knowing you couldn’t see in the darkness.
You all stood in a circle, facing outward, looking for the monster.
“Where is it?!” you exclaimed, eyes squinting, the flashing growing more intense.
“I don’t know!” Robin shouted, voice laced in a panic.
Suddenly, the lights when out completely.
Your chest heaved up and down, each breath feeling like it could possibly be your last.
It was quiet, too quiet, as everyone listened for any indication that the monster was coming.
Crack.
You all turned to face the sound near the corner of the room.
Nothing.
Nancy turned back around, and that’s when she saw it.
“Robin!” she yelled at the girl.
The monster was standing right behind her.
In one swift motion, it pushed her to the ground, hovering over her with its mouth wide open.
The frying pan in Robin’s hand flew the other way, the loud clank making you jump.
She winced and turned her head the other way, screaming.
Eddie ran behind the monster, swinging his nunchucks at the creature. “You piece of shit!”
The monster flinched every hit, rising to its feet and turning around. Eddie’s eyes widened as it opened its mouth, a blood curdling screech coming from it.
Jonathan ran over to Robin, pulling her up to her feet. “You okay?” he asked.
Robin’s eyes were wide in fear as she nodded quickly.
The monster swung its hand at Eddie, knocking the nunchucks out of his hand.
Nancy reacted quick, firing shots at the creature. “Go to hell, you son of a bitch!”
Nancy was backing away, firing shots at the monster. It turned around and walked towards her.
Click. Click. Click.
She was out of ammo.
The monster approached closer and closer as she backed away, eyes wide.
Steve jumped in quickly, swinging the bat right in the monster’s chest.
You watched in awe as he flipped the bat in his hands, landing every swing at the monster, backing it slowly into the trap.
Its foot was caught and it began to screech, trying to wiggle free.
“Henderson!” Steve shouted. “Now!”
You flicked the lighter open, aligning it perfectly with the can of hairspray in your hand. You sprayed the bottle, right at the flame, and suddenly, a larger flame emerged, coating the floor and the monster in flames.
Hurried footsteps sounded from behind you. “Get back!”
You stepped back quickly as Jonathan plowed through with the fire extinguisher that Nancy snagged from the police station.
He pressed the lever and the fire died out.
You all began to cough, choking on the smoke.
You panted, trying to catch your breath when Robin gasped.
“Where’d it go?” she asked.
Your eyes followed hers, landing on the closed bear trap. It was gone.
“It has to be dead,” Eddie said, eyes looking around in a panic. “Right?”
Nancy’s lips were parted in shock. “We shot at it, beat the shit out of it, and lit it on fire. No way it’s alive,” she panted, shaking her head. “No way.”
Jonathan gasped as the lights above your head began to light up, the lights seeming to slowly approach you.
You all backed up slowly, eyes on the lights.
At first, you thought it was the monster, the lights flashing anytime it was near. But, this felt different. It felt calmer, more calculated.
Less intense.
The lights then began to retreat the other way, and you followed.
The lights twinkled out towards the door.
“Mom,” Jonathan called. “Is that you?”
You followed the lights outside, the street lamp flickering.
“Where’s it going?” Eddie asked, watching as the light lit up.
Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t think that’s the monster.”
Eddie blinked, confusion written all over his face. “What the hell is it then?”
“It’s them,” Robin realized, remembering what Jonathan said about his mom communicating with Will through the lights.
It was Joyce and Hopper, in the Upside Down to bring Will back.
You were all in the hospital, Will was back, but he hadn’t quite woken up yet.
It had been a long night, everyone doing their part to help bring Will back home, and safe.
Jonathan was back with his mom in Will’s hospital room.
Against one wall, Nancy was sitting beside her mom, eyes focused on the ground. Robin sat right beside her and had her head rested on Nancy’s shoulder, staring at the floor. Eddie sat beside Robin, playing with his rings. He was sat beside Lucas who had fallen asleep, head against Eddie’s shoulder, snoring quietly. Mike was beside Lucas, his father sound asleep beside him, as he stared at the floor, leg bouncing in anticipation to finally see Will.
Against the other wall, Hopper sat with his arms crossed, Dustin was beside him, curled up against you, fast asleep as you rubbed his back.
He had just spent an hour rambling on and on about his experience at the school and complaining about you leaving him.
He took back what he said right after you told him about the monster and showed him where the scar would form on your hand.
He thought you were pretty cool.
On your right, Steve sat, and you had your head rested on his shoulder. You waited until Dustin fell asleep to do so.
Seconds later, Steve rested his head on top of yours, a small smile on his face.
The door opened and Jonathan walked in to tell the boys the news.
Mike flew out of his seat, shaking Lucas awake. “Will’s up!” he exclaimed. He raced over to Dustin, shaking him. “Will’s up! Come on!”
Steve lifted his head off of yours. Dustin jumped out of the seat and eyed you, rubbing his eyes. “Do my eyes deceive me?!”
You lifted your head off of Steve, eyes wide.
“Dustin! Come on!” Lucas yelled from the door way.
“We’re not done here,” Dustin said before turning on his heel and running out the door.
Days later, music blared from your radio as you hummed along to the tune, fixing your hair in your vanity mirror.
You were about to go out, one on one, with Steve Harrington, of all people.
If you were to tell yourself two weeks ago you’d be all giddy getting ready to go out with him, you wouldn’t believe it.
Dustin barged through your door, panting out of breath. “Found it!” he exclaimed, running over to your desk, handing you your favorite accessory that you forgot in his room.
You smiled at him, putting it on. “Thanks, Dustin.”
Dustin rocked back on his heels. “I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Steve Harrington!” he exclaimed. “That’s like a d20 rolling perfectly balanced for an entire campaign.”
You raised a brow, not understanding what he was referring to.
He noticed almost immediately. “D&D stuff.”
You nodded. “I figured,” you giggled. “And it’s not a date, we're just hanging out. As friends,” you corrected him.
He didn’t seem to hear, or care, for that matter.
You finished up your hair, Dustin sitting on the edge of your bed, kicking his legs back and forth. “I can’t believe my sister is going on a date!”
You shook your head at his comments, him not seeming to care for the specifics. This was a date in his mind.
You finished your hair and got up, grabbing your shoes. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Dustin hopped off of your bed and walked over to the mirror with you. “You look great,” he told you, giving you thumbs up.
You turned to him, a smile on your face. “You think he’ll like it?”
Dustin’s jaw dropped. “He better!” he exclaimed. “I’ll beat him up!”
You giggled and ruffled your brother’s hair. “You’re funny.”
“I’m serious!” He then furrowed his brows, realizing what the question you asked had implied. “Wait, if this isn’t a date, why do you care what he thinks?” he pressed, staring at you with narrow eyes.
Why did a part of you care?
Thankfully, you didn’t have to provide a response.
Suddenly, you heard the car outside honk.
Dustin ran out of your room, heading straight for the door.
“Dustin!” you called after him. “What the hell are you doing?!”
He ran outside to find Steve pulled up. He got out of the car, walking over to the passenger side and leaning against his car. He was dressed awfully nice. A nice polo shirt and jeans that fit him too good. “Hey, bud,” Steve greeted Dustin with a warm smile. “Where’s your sister?”
“She’s coming,” he panted, out of breath. “But, I’m here to set some ground rules.”
Steve raised a brow. “Are you, now?”
Dustin nodded. “Yes. Rule number one,” he began, holding up a finger. “Have her back here by a reasonable hour, you hear me?”
Steve raised his brows, trying to suppress a smile. “Loud and clear,” he nodded with a salute.
“Good,” Dustin nodded. “Rule number two.” He help up another finger. “You better tell her she looks nice, because she looks amazing.”
Steve nodded. “Of course, I mean, she always looks great.”
“Good answer,” Dustin said. “And rule number three.” He held up three fingers. “If you try anything, and I mean anything at all,” he warned. “You’ll have a real tough time with me,” he said, pointing his thumb to himself.
Steve put a hand up to his mouth to cover his smile. “Noted.”
His eyes moved to the front door, where you were walking out. “There’s the beautiful lady,” Steve said, right as you ended up beside Dustin.
You smiled, looking Steve up and down. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Harrington.”
You were a few steps away from him, but the scent of his cologne was strong, and it was insanely intoxicating.
Little did you know, Steve felt the same way about your perfume. It made him want to say things he definitely shouldn’t.
He gave you a look that told you more than his words could.
Dustin side eyed you and glared at Steve. “Okay, relax. That’s disgusting,” he gagged.
Steve furrowed his brows. “But, you just told me to tell her she looks nice.”
Dustin groaned and threw his head back. “Yeah! Not while I’m standing here! Take a hint, that’s so gross!”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Bye, Dustin.”
Steve opened the passenger door for you and let you in, closing the door. He went around to the drivers seat right when Dustin yelled, “Remember! Bring her back by a decent hour!”
Steve’s car was parked at the drive in theater, The Outsider’s playing on the large screen.
Steve payed for everything, including both of your drinks and popcorn.
It was quiet, as you were both ‘watching’ the movie, the only things truly on your minds being each other.
“You know your brother set ground rules for me?” Steve asked you, breaking the silence.
You laughed, furrowed brows. “What?”
Steve nodded. “Yeah. He’s not messing around, he said I’d have a real tough time with him if I tried anything.”
Your eyes widened. “Oh my gosh. He told me he was going to beat you up.”
Steve laughed. “What?! He’s crazy.”
You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “Tell me about it.”
Your little brother was over protective to say the least. He loved you and he’d be damned if some stupid boy broke your heart.
Steve placed a warm hand on top of yours. Your breath caught in your throat. “Thank you for forgiving me that day I showed up at your doorstep,” he said. “You know, I think about that night all the time. Had you not forgiven me, I would’ve never made genuine friends with people who actually care about me,” he said, referring to your new friend group.
“And more importantly,” he went on, leaning in a little closer, tone hushed. “We would never have what we have.”
Your cheeks warmed up as you smiled.
“You know, I feel like I never knew who I was until you showed up,” he admitted. “That talk we had by my pool that night, it was something I needed to hear my entire life. So, thank you.”
You pulled Steve into a hug, holding him close, just as you did that night. “Of course. I’m always going to be here for you, Steve.”
Steve pulled away, a smile on his face. “We’re finally on a first name basis?”
You tilted your head slightly. You had only ever called him by his first name when you pulled him out of the gate from the Upside Down that night, and he had done the same. Whether it was intentional or not was debatable. Emotions were running high, stakes were high. “Would you prefer I call you Harrington?”
Steve shook his head. “No. My first name sounds better coming from you.” He said your first name afterwards.
You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, your eyes looking back up at the screen.
His face heat up as his fingers reached for yours. You opened up your hand, letting him in.
He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand, warm and grounding.
After the movie, Steve drove you home, making sure to drop you off by that reasonable hour Dustin had mentioned.
His hand held yours the entire drive as music played softly from the radio.
Some old song on the radio.
16 Candles, to be exact.
“Blow out the candles make your wish come true. For I’ll be wishing that you love me, too.”
Steve pulled up right at your house, flashing you a smile. “I had a good time tonight.”
“Me too,” you said with a smile.
Steve looked over your face, something in his eyes changing.
He was a huge lover boy, and wanted nothing more than to take the next step in the relationship. Make it official.
But, he knew that you wanted to take things slow, see where it went naturally over time.
And he’d do that.
He’s wait for as long as it would take.
Steve smiled at you one last time, hopping out of the car and opening the door for you. You climbed out and thanked him for everything, pulling him into a hug.
He got back in the car and watched as you walked up to your front door, the door flying open within two seconds.
Dustin was waiting by the door for you to come home.
You tuned around and waved goodbye to Steve. Dustin lingered by the door and waved by to Steve as well before shutting the door and bombarding you with a million questions.
You had the longest debrief that night in your room.
One month later
Snow fell from outside the Wheeler’s residence. You and the older kids were upstairs in the kitchen exchanging gifts for Secret Santa while the kids were down in the basement playing D&D.
You handed Nancy her gift. “For you,” you said.
She accepted it with a bright smile. “Oh my gosh!” she beamed. “You got me?”
You nodded. She opened it up and found the gold heart necklace you spent weeks saving up for. She gasped, pulling it out of the box. “Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. “Can you help me put it on?” she asked.
You grabbed the necklace, putting it around her neck, clasping it off.
Beside you, Eddie reluctantly handed Steve his gift. “I unfortunately had you,” he joked.
Over the past month, Eddie had been warming up to Steve, as you all hung out practically every single day.
He still wasn’t overly fond that you and Steve were so close, but you hadn’t fully committed to anything, meaning he still had a chance.
He liked Steve, he really did, but he sure as hell didn’t want him dating you.
Steve smiled and took the box that was wrapped poorly, tape all over. “Aw, thanks, man.” He opened it up and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. “Oh!” he laughed. “These are sick!” He immediately put them on, the brightest smile on his face.
Eddie laughed and tilted his head. “You like ‘em?”
Little did he know, Steve loved them and would never take them off.
Jonathan tapped you on the shoulder, hanging you a bag, paper sticking out the top. “Hope you like it,” he said.
You smirked and opened it up, pulling out new skateboard bearings, stickers, and patches to deck out your board. “Oh my gosh!” you exclaimed. “Thank you!” you pulled him into a hug.
Nancy handed Eddie his gift, he opened it and jumped up and down seeing tickets to an Ozzy Osbourne concert. He nearly tackled her pulling her into a tight hug. “I love you, Wheeler!” he exclaimed.
Steve gave Robin her gift and inside she found some new silver rings and a mixtape with all of her favorite songs.
Afterward, Steve handed Jonathan a gift. “And for you,” he said.
Jonathan raised a brow. “You had me and Robin?” he asked confused, looking down at the perfectly wrapped present.
Steve shook his head. “No, this one’s just from me,” he said. “I’ve had it on me for a while now and, well, now I’m giving it to you.”
Jonathan ripped open the gift and his lips parted upon seeing a new camera. One even better than the one he originally had. “Steve…” he trailed off, looking up at him. “This is like, crazy expensive I-”
Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry about. It’s all yours,” he smiled.
Jonathan smiled and pulled Steve into a hug.
Just then, Robin handed Johnathan his gift. He opened it up and pulled out an auto winder and tripod for his new camera.
He was practically bouncing off the walls in excitement.
He pulled Steve into a hug. Had you told him a month ago about the situation, he would’ve laughed in your face. But, life is funny sometimes. Sometimes you’d form a connection with the person you’d least expect.
Robin walked over to the fridge, grabbing another bottle of apple cider. Eddie took it from her, popping the cap with the bottle opener on his keys.
Jonathan grabbed some cups from the counter and handed them to Eddie to fill.
“Oh! One more thing!” Nancy said, reaching into her pocket. “These are for all of us,” she said, pulling out hand made friendship bracelets, the strings in hues of black and red.
You each took one from the palm of her hand, the scar from when you cut yourselves visible.
“Nancy,” you began, a smile as you put it on your left wrist. “That’s so cute.”
“So, we’re like, officially friends now?” Jonathan asked.
You had already become friends, but this was like marriage. It was like a ring that sealed the deal.
Robin nodded, putting her bracelet on. “One hundred percent. There’s no leaving each other now.”
Steve smiled. “I just want to say, I really appreciate you guys taking me in,” he said. “The last month I’ve felt like I’ve actually been apart of a family than I have the last sixteen years of my life.”
Eddie slowly smiled, placing a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You know we’ve got you, always.” Steve looked over at Eddie and gave him a grateful smile.
Something in Eddie’s mind and heart changed. “Hey, why don’t you come over tomorrow? Have Christmas dinner with me and my uncle,” he suggested.
Of course, Steve’s house was going to be empty. He was more than happy to have dinner with the Munsons.
“Really?” he asked. “Your uncle is okay with that?”
Eddie nodded. “Yeah, the more the merrier,” he shrugged. “You guys should come over after you’re done with your family,” he said to the rest of the group.
You all nodded, agreeing to go to Eddie’s after dinner with your own families.
Nancy smiled, holding up her cup. “To new friendships and new beginnings,” he toasted.
You all held up your cups, repeating what she had said, clanking your cups together.
You and Jonathan went downstairs to grab your brothers. Dustin and Will grabbed their things right as Eddie came down the stairs. “Is that D&D I see?” he beamed, walking over to the table.
“Yeah!” Mike nodded with a smile. “We just wrapped up the campaign.”
“Which was way too short,” Lucas complained.
“Yeah!” Will agreed.
Mike groaned. “We’ve been over this! It was ten hours!”
“But it didn’t make any sense!” Dustin argued.
“It made sense!” Mike snapped back.
Dustin shook his head. “Nuh uh!” Dustin exclaimed. “The lost knight?!”
“And the proud princess?” Lucas asked.
“And those weird flowers in the cave?” Will questioned.
Eddie raised his brows as Mike was at a loss for words. “Yikes! You really left all those plot holes?”
Mike scoffed. “What do you know about D&D?”
Eddie now scoffed and raised his brows. “Oh, I know everything,” he said. “I’m literally the president of the D&D club at my school.”
Dustin’s eyes lit up. “What?! You play D&D.”
“Oh, dear, God,” you grumbled, placing a hand on your face.
This was the last thing you needed.
Your D&D nerd of a brother to meet your D&D nerd of a friend.
Eddie nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Dustin shouted at you. “Why didn’t you tell me that your friends are actually cool?”
“Wait,” Will chimed in. “You should come play with us!”
“Yeah!” Lucas exclaimed.
Mike nodded. “That would be awesome!”
Eddie laughed and shook his head. “What do I look like playing D&D with a bunch of kids in a basement?”
Mike shrugged. “Who cares? It would be so fun.”
“Yeah!” Will giggled, nodding in agreement.
“Please!” Lucas begged, giving Eddie puppy eyes, clasping his hands together.
Eddie groaned. “Okay, fine.”
“Yay!” they all exclaimed at the same time.
Jonathan laughed. “Okay, come on, Will. Time to go.”
Will gathered his things. You and Dustin went upstairs meeting Steve so he could take you both home.
That year, you had some life changing experiences, and knowing that in the end you’d form the relationships that you did, you’d do it again in a heart beat.
Little did you know of what was to come.
The next four years of trauma you’d endure, the people you’d lose, the things you’d see.
Then, would your mind change?
Then, if you could go back and change everything, would you let go of your friendships and relationships and in turn lead a normal life?
A/N: That’s a wrap on season 1, I hope you’ve all enjoyed this first season! Season 2 is starting and at the end of the first chapter, you’ll be able to place your votes!
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Chapter 4.5 - What If…
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Dustin listening to the reader and Steve low key flirt
warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected penetration, oral (steve receiving), boner???, kinda submissive steve but not completely (i tried my best), both characters are 18+, not proofread.
note: amelia @amelia15fantastic babe, thank you so muchhhh for this one, love. also, requests are still open btw! enjoy :)
don't repost or translate my work.
steve doesn’t try to hide it anymore.
he’s always hard around you. not fully all the time, not always. but enough that he shifts constantly when you’re close.
he knows it’s a problem. the way he knows when he’s about to lose a fight, because every single time you walk into a room, his body reacts before his brain does.
it’s subtle at first. a shift in his jeans. having to steal one of your pillows to hide the tent in his pants while you´re just innocently existing.
you’re sitting on his kitchen counter, eyeing steve while he cooks scrambled eggs on the stove next to you.
you’re dressed in one of his shirts, panties underneath, fresh out of the shower.
"eyes up here, harrington."
he swallows.
his grip tightens slightly on the wooden spoon he’s holding. “you’re wearing that on purpose.”
“that?” you look down at the shirt. “it’s just a shirt.”
“yeah, my shirt.” he mutters. “i can see your nipples through it.”
you blink at him.
for a second, you just stare.
then slowly, you look down again. the thin cotton of his old basketball tee is stretched just enough across your chest to make his point painfully valid.
you look back up at him.
"yeah, i´ve had these for a while." you chuckle at him, touching your nipples through the shirt.
“you know what you’re doing.” he voice is lower now.
you continue staring at your boobs through his shirt, getting distracted by how good they look. can he judge you? nop.
steve shifts in his pants. it’s immediate. every time. the smallest movement from you and his body reacts.
“steve.” you murmur.
“don’t, baby.” he breathes.
“don’t what?” you tilt your head, pretending innocence.
his jaw flexes. he looks away for a second, embarrassed, then forces himself to look back at you.
“you know what...” he says quietly.
he’s not dominant about it. steve just stands there, flushed and tense, like he’s waiting to be handled.
you get down from the counter, your bare feet hitting the cold floor as you make your way to stand behind steve. your hands find their way to his soft belly.
his eyes close immediately, head tipping back slightly. his hands lay on top of yours.
“you’re doing it again.” you whisper, resting your head on his back.
“doing what?” his voice is already strained.
“you’re hard before i even touch you, stevie.”
his cheeks go red instantly. “i can’t control it.”
“i didn’t say you could.”
you let your nails lightly scratch his abdomen, your lips pecking softly against his clothed back.
he makes the softest sound, not a moan, but something that punches straight through your core.
“you’re so needy.” you murmur.
he swallows. “can’t help it with you.”
you smile at that. he turns the stove off, and turns his body, now facing you.
his throat bobs. “you make me hard. all the goddamn time."
your hands slide to his chest.
he watches every inch of the movement.
“you’re always like this when i’m around?” you ask softly.
“yes,” he whispers. “it’s embarrassing.”
“it’s not, stevie.” you smile softly, reassuring him.
“i don’t even have to be touching you.” he laughs breathlessly. “you just walk in and i’m done for.”
you lean closer, your lips hovering near his.
“stevie...” your voice is soft. “you can’t control yourself, ´s not your fault.”
he shakes his head slightly.
“i don’t want to.” he says.
that makes you pause.
“what?”
“i don’t want to control it.” his voice drops. “i like that you do this to me.”
your pulse jumps. “you like feeling out of control?”
he nods once. “with you. yeah.”
your fingers trail down his sides. he grows bigger under the touch.
“you’re not even trying to hide it anymore.” you tease.
he exhales shakily.
“i tried. you noticed anyway.”
“because your pants suddenly doubled up in size, it’s clear, baby.” you smirk, looking at the giant tent on his jeans.
“i’m uncomfortable.” steve avoids eye contact.
“liar.”
his eyes flick up to yours, soft, almost pleading.
“okay,” he admits. “i’m not uncomfortable.”
you close the space between your hips, grinding yours against steve’s just slightly.
his head drops back a bit, groaning.
“jesus.” he mutters under his breath.
“too much?”
“not enough.” he says immediately.
his hand drifts lower to your ass.
you grab his jaw and kiss him.
hard.
steve makes a noise against your mouth that sounds half shocked, half relieved.
his fingers digging in on your ass cheeks, pulling you tighter against him. the friction makes him gasp into your mouth, and he doesn’t even try to hide it.
“god, baby.” he breathes, barely breaking the kiss before chasing it again.
you kiss him slow for half a second, just long enough to make him soften, and then you tilt your head and deepen it.
he melts and he groans low.
you can feel steve’s hips grinding harder against you, trying to find some relief in an awkward standing position.
“don’t stop.” he mutters, dragging you closer by the waist so he can kiss you again.
you bite his bottom lip lightly.
“steve,” you murmur against his mouth. “you can’t even keep still.”
“i’m trying.” he breathes.
“you’re not.”
“i don’t want to.” he grins against your lips.
he kisses you like he’s starving, messy, needy, open-mouthed and every time you pull back for air he follows, chasing your lips.
“you feel so good.” he mumbles against your skin when your mouth drags down his jaw.
“yeah?”
“yes,” he says immediately, breath hot. “you have no idea.”
you press your mouth back to his, slower this time, letting the tension stretch.
his tongue brushes yours. his hips roll up into you without thinking.
the friction makes both of you inhale sharply.
“steve.” you moan softly.
he freezes for half a second.
“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” steve holds you steady.
“not yet.”
you kiss him again, deeper, slower. he buries one hand in your hair to keep you close.
steve’s breathing is still uneven when you pull back just enough to look at him.
his lips are swollen. his hair’s a mess from your hands. his fingers are still gripping your waist and ass.
you guide steve backwards until his hips hit the counter, a surprised grunt escaping his lips at the sudden movement.
his eyes widen as you sink to your knees before him.
“fuck, baby.” he murmurs, low, one of his hands grip the counter.
“just relax, stevie.” you smile up at him, an innocent look on your eyes, driving him insane.
the other hand comes to rest on the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. steve swallows hard, his adam's apple bobbing visibly as he nods, giving himself over to your command.
your hands make their way to tug down his his pants and underwear down in one motion. his cock springs free, already hard and rapidly swelling under your attention.
“angel… fuck, more.” a sharp intake of breath hisses through steve’s teeth as his hips instinctively thrust forward, seeking more of your touch.
his hand tightens in your hair, not pushing or pulling, but simply anchoring himself as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes.
steve inhales sharply as your warm breath ghosts over his sensitive tip, cock twitching with anticipation. “c’mon, baby.”
the muscles in his thighs flex as he spreads his stance wider, giving you better access.
a loud moan tears from steve’s throat as your lips finally wrap around the swollen head of his cock, your tongue swirling teasingly around the sensitive tip. his grip in your hair tightens, pulling this time, grounding himself.
“ohhh fuck yes, baby.” he groans, head thudding back against the cabinet as he watches you, transfixed by the erotic sight of your lips stretched around his cock.
you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper with each pass, relaxing your throat for him.
“taking my cock so well.” he pants, his free hand coming to rest on your cheek, thumb stroking over your flushed skin.
steve’s breathing grows as you take him deeper, the wet heat of your mouth enveloping his dick completely. he fights the urge to thrust, letting you set the pace as you work him over with lips and tongue and throat.
the obscene sounds of your efforts fill the kitchen, mixing with his desperate moans and grunts of pleasure.
steve can feel the coil of tension building low in his gut, balls drawing up tight as you bring him closer to the edge with each passing second.
“fuck, i'm getting close already...” steve warns you, voice strained with the effort of holding back.
your hand cups and massages steve’s aching balls, stimulating him closer to his orgasm. his hips buck involuntarily, driving his cock deeper into your mouth.
“oh, god- fuuuuck!” steve moans loudly, his entire body tensing as the orgasm crashes over.
thick ropes of cum shoot down your throat as you feel his cock pulse and throb against your tongue.
steve slumps back against the counter, chest heaving as he struggles to catch hus breath, aftershocks. slowly, he eases his now half hard dick from your lips. “holy shit, baby. that was way too fast…” steve sighs.
“no, babe…” you try to reassure him, still on your knees, soft lips giving his tip a peck.
steve grabs your hand that was resting on his hip, to pull you up and hold you against his chest. your knees ache.
“you have me wrapped around your fucking finger, angel. you made me cum so fast. that- wasn’t supposed to happen.” steve grins. a satisfied grin.
he nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling your scent as he peppers light kisses along your temple and cheek.
“ride me, baby.” he whispers.
“is that what you want, stevie?” you say.
he simply nods, bottom lip slightly sticking out.
jesus.
you grab steve’s hand, leading him slowly to the living room, the familiar scent of vanilla candles immediately hitting your nostrils.
“sit, stevie.” you smirk at him.
steve takes a seat in the middle of the couch, cock hardening again at the sight of you pulling his tshirt over your head and your panties down. your nips harden when they come in touch with the cold air of the room.
his eyes run hungrily over your newly exposed skin, drinking in the sight of your bare torso. steve licks hips lips, resisting the urge to reach out and touch your body.
he watches, frozen as you straddle his lap, your naked breasts mere inches from his face. steve’s hands automatically come to rest on your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he fights again the urge to surge forward and bury his face between those perfect tits.
“god, sweetheart...” he breathes, voice rough with desire. “you're so fucking perfect. need you wrapped around me again, yeah?”
slowly, steve trails his fingertips up your sides, mapping the curves of your waist and ribcage until he’s cupping the weight of your breasts in his rough palms.
your soft hand wraps around his length, stroking it slightly. steve rolls his hips up against your hand, groaning.
“so soaked for you, steve.” you whisper, rubbing his tip against your wet folds.
with a swift thrust of steve’s hips, his cock slips from your hand into your entrance. a loud moan leaving steve’s mouth immediately.
“ooooh fu-uuck yeah, baby.” he pants, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before starting up a steady rhythm.
his hands gripping your ass hard enough to bruise as he bounces you on his cock softly but deeply.
“stevie, fuck. you feel so good inside me.” you moan, pussy clenching around him.
“riding me like you were made for it, baby. taking me so deep...”
steve leans forward to capture your lips in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongues and teeth. his hips piston up to meet yours, the obscene slap of skin on skin filling the room.
“fucking love you so much, angel. moanin’ so pretty for me.” steve praises you, his dick hitting the right spot inside you.
steve suddendly flips your position, hovering over you with your legs wrapped around his waist. a grin spreads across his face as he drinks in the sight of you splayed out beneath him.
steve looks down at his cock still inside you, a creamy white ring at the base of it, both of your juices mixed.
“steve ohh-st-t-ohh-mmhmphh” you moan, grabbing onto his biceps as he starts thrusting his hips against your ass.
“takin’ my cock so well, baby.” steve purrs approvingly, rolling his hips in a slow, deep grind that has you rolling your eyes into the back of your head.
he leans down to capture your lips in a wet kiss, swallowing your moans as he starts up a relentless pace, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes, holding you so close and steady he can feel the perfect shape of your ass against his hips.
“gonna fuck this perfect little pussy so good.” steve growls against your mouth.
his praises making your pussy clench even harder on him.
he groans, hips stuttering as he struggles to maintain his rhythm. “fuck, your cunt ‘s gripping me so tight, baby...”
steve leans down to bury his face in the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin as he redoubles his efforts, hips snapping against yours with almost punishing force.
“ah, yes!” you whimper. “fuuuuck, steve, yes. god.”
you can feel steve’s thrusts becoming sloppy as time passes, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs to hold you steady.
“i'm getting close, baby…” steve pants. “gonna fill this pretty pussy. ‘s that what you want, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, cock going somehow deeper in you.
“god, yes steve. please, make me cum, please stevie. ah- fuck!”
he reaches between you to frantically circle your clit with his thumb, determined to bring you with him.
“cum on my cock, sweetheart. please.” his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
he rubs tight circles around your swollen clit as he grinds against you with deep rolls of his hips. steve’s cock throbs inside you, pulsing with impending release as he pours everything he has into bringing you to the edge before him.
“c’mon, baby...” he encourages breathlessly, thumb still working over your sensitive clit. “let go for me.”
steve capture your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your cries as he continues to work you over with single-minded focus. his balls draw up tight, climax barreling down on him like a freight train, but steve grits his teeth and holds back, determined to push you over first.
“ohh-st-teve oh- oh my god, yes, yes.” your body tenses beneath him, back arching off the couch as your orgasm crashes over you.
the feeling of your walls closing around his cock is too much to bear, and with a shout of your name, he finally lets go.
“fuck, baby!” he groans loudly, hips stuttering as he buries myself to the hilt and explodes inside you. thick, hot shots of cum paint your insides as he grinds against you, prolonging your orgasm a little more.
“steve!”
“i know, baby. i know.” he collapses on top of you, both of you panting and twitching with the aftershocks.
steve presses sloppy kisses along your jaw and neck, murmuring praise between breaths.
you run your fingers slowly through his hair. it’s messy now.
steve makes a soft noise. not a word. just a low hum in his throat, the kind he does when he’s satisfied.
there’s a long, comfortable silence between you.
“you good?” you murmur, breaking the silence.
he nods against you immediately. “yeah. you feel so fucking good.”
you smile at that.
he doesn’t move. if anything, he presses closer, one of his legs sliding between yours as he buries his face further into your neck and chest.
“steve.” you smile a little.
“mhm.” he l lifts his head just enough to look at you, hair falling into his eyes, cheeks flushed and soft in the dim light.
there’s a lazy smile on his face, the kind you only see when he’s completely relaxed.
“…can we stay like this for a while?” you ask, a lazy smile playing in your lips.
“mm, c’mere.” he mumbles, nodding, tugging you closer.
his fingers start tracing slow patterns on your stomach, absentminded, like he just needs to keep touching you.
note: aaaaah i love this one but it took me so long to get it finished 🥹🥹 hope everyone likes it !!! go request something babes !
Desc: A drunk one night stand with Steve Harrington leads to a positive pregnancy test and a whole lot of emotions. When you find out that he’s not even in his twenties yet, things get even more interesting. Older!reader x younger!Steve Harrington
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
One Shots & Drabbles:
Caught- Some of the many times you and Steve have been caught making out. Byers!reader
Biting- Steve likes to bite. You specifically.
Shower sex- What the title says. Shower sex with Steve Harrington
Riding- Again as the title would suggest, riding Steve. Also breeding kink 😉
Steve the Munch Harrington- Steve loves eating you out. So much so that he comes untouched in his pants when he does it.
Pulse- Steve helps you study for nursing school by letting you find all the pulse points on his body.
pairing: anthony bridgerton x sister's best friend!fem!reader
status: ongoing
At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)
Chapter 1 - I said, "dancin' is a dangerous game"
Chapter 2 - I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn
Chapter 3 - it was all by design
Chapter 4 - uh oh, I'm fallin' in love
Chapter 5 - they said the end is coming, everyone's up to something
Chapter 6 - oh, my, love is a lie
Chapter 7 - I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all
Chapter 8 - if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake
Chapter 9 - in my defense, I have none
Chapter 10 - coming soon...
Pairing: Alpha!Benedict Bridgerton x Omega!fem!reader
Summary: Benedict has always been a reluctant alpha, almost in denial of his true self… until the night he meets his match in a spirited debutante.
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI. A/B/O dynamics, no use of y/n. Heat/rut cycles, dirty talk, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, knotting, biting, bonding, breeding kink, no refractory period, multiple orgasms, creampie.
Word Count: 3.9k
Author's Note: Yeahhh, so, there's no excuse for this, other than sometimes a brainworm lodges itself, especially when it's a new challenge - I've never written omegaverse before. Dedicated to @polinforya, who set me off on this. Thanks to @colettebronte for soldiering through this filth beta reading. Err, enjoy <3
“Leave…” he barks forebodingly.
“Why?” You whisper, unable to look away, something boiling in your blood the likes of which you have never known.
As soon as you arrived at tonight’s ball, your very first, you scented him. The most potent unbonded alpha you have ever encountered, the only one that has ever felt inescapable—a siren song to your body. Instant fever breaking out over your skin, a want to drop to your knees and prostrate yourself before him, without even having seen him.
Powerless to resist, you took the first opportunity to escape the clutches of your family and followed that delicious aroma all the way out into the hidden gardens of Danbury House, far away from the gathered throngs, almost as if he were hiding from you.
And now you know your fate is sealed. Tall, athletic and a face of beautiful lines, glowing in the pale moonlight. But with something untamed lurking beneath the veneer of an impeccable, dapper gentleman that perhaps only you, the yin to his yang, can detect.
He holds up a halting hand as you take a tentative step towards him, a tremor in the flex of his fingertips that belies his words.
“DO. NOT.”
You take another cautious but defiant step. A clarion call that feels elementary, ancient, fated.
His breathing is ragged as you reach his outstretched palm, running the tip of your nose slowly across it, his scent so irresistible. Woodsy, smoky, but also citrus. Like a lemon tree ablaze.
“Why on earth would a good family not ensure their omega debutante is suppressed?!”
His question is pure exasperation, snarling lightly as your lips trace his thumb, your scent obviously affecting him just as much.
“They do…” You respond, daring to meet his fiery gaze as you purse your lips to his warm, fleshy pad.
You squeak as that thumb presses between your lips and hooks over your lower front teeth, pulling you fractionally towards him, his fingers curling under your chin.
“Then why could I scent you all the way across Grosvenor Square?!”
“I have not taken them for two days,” you divulge under his glowering, your words slightly garbled around his invasion, the taste of charcoal and strawberries bursting on your tongue.
“Why??”
He appears irked by your rebellion; even as you can see the fight in every fibre of his being, desire muzzled by conditioned gentility.
“Because I do not want to hide what I am,” you proclaim, instinctively pressing your tongue to his knuckle, unable to be anything but truthful with this captivating man.
“That was spectacularly foolish,” he chides, withdrawing from between your lips. “You are lucky the majority of the Ton are betas.”
“You are not,” you blurt.
“No, I am most definitely not,” he snaps, retreating a step, his jewel-toned waistcoat pulled taut around his ribs with each laboured inhale. “And I cannot be held responsible for my actions if you continue to be in my presence.”
“What if that is precisely what I desire?”
Your words are definitely running away from you, something tidal crashing through your being. To say nothing of what is sluicing down your trembling inner thighs.
“You do not know of what you speak,” he sighs, shaking his head, tracing the thumb that was jammed into your mouth across his own lips, perhaps without realising such. “And this is not what I intended for myself.”
“You have no desire for a mate?”
“I have no desire to be cliche,” he responds sharply, then exhales and tips his head back. His Adam's apple bobs deliciously before he tilts back down to look upon you. “My elder brother may have always been proud of that which we were both born with, especially as he is now bonded. But I had hoped I could rise above this… circumstance. Be something other than what society and this condition, fetter me to be.”
“You speak in the past tense,” you point out.
“It may well be if you do not leave…” he mutters darkly, something clenching low in your gut at all the possibilities his words portend, even as you discern his own reticence.
The compulsion to move towards him is impossible to resist. But he doesn’t stop you this time when you crowd into him, flushing from head to toe, his heat seeping through the layers of clothing you wish were not separating your skin.
“And I also desire to be something other than what society deems me capable of,” you declare, running your hands up the ticklish velvet of his jacket sleeves. “A trophy for a dull man.”
He chuckles at your stark assessment of the truth behind the marriage mart—an elite matchmaking carousel that is ultimately all about securing power, status and the continuation of noble blood.
“So we are at a crossroads,” he concedes. “We could fight this ancient force, go our separate ways, never cross paths again. I could avoid societal events, the London season. I have a home in Wiltshire. You will most likely marry a beta, take your suppressants, do good by your family.”
“Or…?” you venture, heart pounding wildly as your arms wind around his neck, burying your nose into the hair behind his ear, the scent there more potent.
His teeth lightly scrape your jugular as he murmurs. “We admit what we are. I take you right here, right now. What is your choice?”
A shiver runs down your spine at the option laid bare, even as he generously offers you the authority to decide your joint fate.
You already know, without asking, that he has encountered other omegas before and has resisted; their chemistry perhaps not as potent as what you share. You can also sense his frustration about the dilemma this causes him.
Outwardly, he does not appear one with the usual swagger of his kind, almost as if he has been trying to hide his true nature, as much from himself as anything. A reluctant alpha yearning to be something other. One who thought perhaps he could overcome his own biological destiny.
Until now.
“I would always be running from you… from this…” your words softly spoken, tinged with inevitability.
“As would I…” his acknowledgement whispered into your ear.
“I am not certain I want to….”
There is a delicious noise in the back of his throat at your confession.
“I am a gentleman first and foremost, but you have mere seconds before I cannot withhold any longer,” he stumbles out, grip flexing on your hips.
You lean back to look up at his face and see it all laid out before you: a life bonded, images of you together reflected in the inky blackness of his blown pupils.
“I am not going anywhere,” you answer unequivocally, knowing your fate was sealed the moment you scented him.
And then, he is upon you. Hauling you flush to his torso, something solid pressing into the curve of your belly that you feel compelled to frottage yourself against. His lips descend, his hot mouth opens yours, tongue tangling, the taste within him tantalising. All you can do is cling to him, follow his lead, let yourself be plundered in the best possible way.
You wind your forearm around the back of his neck, up on your tiptoes, pressing into him, wanting this man more than anything on this earth. Wanting everything of him, the sensitive empathy you can discern emanating from his very soul, your connection growing stronger with every second you spend in his company. And his alpha power. The one he has likely denied or repressed for too long. Wanting to be consumed by it, to be the one to unlock and unleash him.
You are almost lost in his endless burning kisses, his grip turning rougher as you knit together in a perfect tangle, bodies more heated with every passing second, when he jerks back. A hand curling around the base of your skull as he peers down at you.
“What are you?” he commands, his tone gruff, his entire demeanour magnetic.
“Omega.”
Declaring that truth out loud for the first time in front of an alpha makes you quiver in his arms, a crooked smile engulfing his handsome face.
“Yes, and what else?” he queries, eyes glittering, one of his fingernails trailing slowly down your cheekbone.
You have lost the power of words, just stare up at him, utterly captivated, awaiting the answer.
“Mine.”
Your entire being pulses at his possessive declaration, wetness running down the inside of your stockings as he steps into his full alpha power, perhaps for the first time, based on the thrill you see racing over his face as he watches you melt into him, clawing, desperate—a novel thrill for you both.
With a rough tug, he draws you into a dense patch of foliage nearby. Under its drooped canopy, you are entirely hidden from anyone who may wander into the gardens, not that it appears a soul has ventured this far into the extensive grounds Lady Danbury seems to have.
Instinct taking over, you tear at your dress, the fever making it challenging to peel from your skin, the fabric already drenched. He appears to be wrestling with his clothing, too; that beautifully patterned waistcoat is discarded haphazardly before you both pause to collapse into each other again with frantic kisses.
“I fear I cannot be gentle,” he cautions over your Cupid’s bow.
“I am more than ready,” you assure, pushing up onto your tiptoes and almost biting his lip. “I do not care if it hurts; the pain of not having you is so much worse.”
He growls again at your breathy declaration. You have been told that the discomfort of first-time relations is fleeting if you are appropriately ready. And you are certain it is nothing compared to the wretched emptiness you feel right now, surrounded by his scent, but your pussy empty, without him claiming what is already his.
You tumble to the loamy earth together, a damp petrichor that is a balm to your flushed skin, flecks of dirt coating your back as you squirm under him, your stockings ripped by his dextrous fingers, you helping him to fight off his trousers as best you can at your tongues tangle.
When he is naked, you pause to stare down at that which you have only heard descriptions of. Nestling in a patch of hair similar to your own is his cock, red-tipped, almost angry-looking. A stiff rod much larger than you were expecting—signifying his true alpha status more than anything else could.
Mesmerised, you reach a tentative hand down and he groans as you fist it the best you can within your grip, moving on instinct, knowing reflexively he needs friction. His breath gusts hard into your ear as you jerk him, a tacky substance oozing onto your knuckles from a slit at the tip.
Releasing him, you bite your lip, then flip so you are prone under him, not sure why other than it feels like this is how it should be. Even though you can no longer see his face, you know this position makes something within him shift, morph; hear it in the velvet tone he now adopts.
“Such a good little one,” he compliments, his voice dropping what seems like an octave to a low rumble, as he crowds over your back, teeth on your nape, pressing your flushed torso into the cool soil. His cock nestling in the cleft of your bottom.
You whimper and worm your knees out wide, burrowing them into the soft ground as an anchor, needing this febrile ache to be assuaged, teetering on an edge, craving to be taken in a way only an alpha can.
“I know you are dripping down your legs for me. I could taste it in the air when you found me. And god, if I do not want to bury my face and drown in that puddle.”
You whine through clenched teeth, feeling more akin to a wild animal than a human, pinned naked under him, begging and frenzied.
“I thought myself capable of suppressing simplistic urges…” he continues, his tongue lapping at the perspiration pooling around your upper spine. “Then you. One whiff and I knew myself a hubristic fool. Now I understand so much that once eluded me. I want to live inside you, breathe your air, taste your skin, your blood, your sweat, your cum. My latent knot ached. Do you hear me? Physically ached when you appeared before me. I could scarcely breathe.”
His lilting, near poetic rhapsody ratchets you higher: now fevered, drooling down your chin, your pussy a fountain, the scent so cloying you are certain alphas for miles around can detect it. Not that you care. Part of you wants a braying mob of them to turn up, watch you get taken, bitten—bonded for life with the only one you truly need.
He grabs your hips and roughly pulls them up high, your forehead sinking into the dirt, bent and open to him, fluttering as he pauses momentarily.
“Are you certain?” A softer voice asks, the gentleman peeking through the fog of his alpha rut.
You twist to look over your shoulder and offer him the reassurance he needs. To confirm this isn’t just something your body demands, but your mind and heart desire, too.
“Yes, I am certain,” you answer plainly, almost solemnly.
You let out a lengthy, feral howl into the soil as he breaches you. A heated, heavy, expansive pressure that makes you struggle for breath, feeling a part of your insides torn asunder as he inches into your channel, stretching you wider than you ever thought possible.
Tears form in your eyes, but they are not sadness; they are sheer relief. That seemingly endless physical hunger you have always felt, even mutedly on suppressants, finally subsides as he gives you what you have been yearning for since your very first heat.
He stills as he reaches your hilt, emitting a low groan of satisfaction, cursing under his breath about how heavenly you feel. He slowly pulls back, the soaked sounds your pussy make are loud and carnal, easing his passage, as you feel cleaved open in the very best way.
No one in your family was an omega when you were diagnosed, so your parents had arranged for you to speak to one, a kindly middle-aged lady, to prepare you for what your life may be. But her coded words about being “joined” with an alpha, at the time seeming almost daunting, pale in comparison to the reality. So all-consuming, all you can do is dig your hands into the dirt and hold on for dear life as he starts to move in a steady rhythm, his breath hot on your back, his hips slamming into your buttocks, your knees pushed further down into the soil with every thrust.
You find yourself muttering and pleading under your breath, demanding more even though your body feels filled with each stroke, a mass all the way in your belly, a snagging string between your hips as you are railed so very deep.
His hands are a harsh grip around your waist, which will no doubt leave finger-shaped bruises. Withdrawing all the way out, then plunging back in and groaning loudly as he buries himself. With each pass, he builds a faster pace, your channel accommodating his invasion, almost suctioning him back into you greedily, seeming to demand he take you harder, faster, stronger.
“You will never suppress yourself again,” he commands raggedly as he ploughs into you over and over. “I need your scent unmasked; it is my reason for breathing.”
Babbling your assent, your teeth bite into a thin tree root to hold yourself steady against his onslaught. Mounted unforgivingly, pinned and pressed. Surrendering complete control, you silently offer him your hands, and he takes your hint, pulling them backwards and pinning them between your bodies in the small of your back. Your forehead takes your weight as you yell into the mud underneath, earthen on your tongue.
He pulls upright behind you, slamming you back onto his cock, as he drives forwards, a grunt with each effort. Ecstasy races around your body; each cell feels alive and fizzing, wanting to yell to the world how good being claimed feels. A flash in your mind of your fellow debutantes, primly swirling in a polite quadrille under the watchful eye of their mamas, as your mouth is filled with dirt, pinned down, your pussy stretched and gushing around a keening alpha. Not that they, mostly delicate little betas, were built to withstand this. It feels like this is what you were born for —a power in your complete submission and enjoyment of this tender roughness.
In the distance, you hear the howl of a dog, perhaps your rutting that is causing its disquiet. Something so very primal in your coupling, an alpha and an omega out under the stars.
You sense his thrusts becoming shallower, his breath uneven, and realise his knot is forming at the base of his cock. Once thrust into you, it will lock your bodies together, filling you with his seed. He looms over you again, his chest a heated weight as his lips suction onto the nape of your neck.
“You are mine,” he gruffs, moaning as your pussy constricts around him, “tell me you want this forever…”
There is a warm, viscous explosion in your chest at what you ardently hoped for—an ask to bond. For him to seed you, bite your skin, lick your blood, mix your essences so you are tied to one another for life.
“Forever,” you pant out, flexing your bound hands trapped against his dewy abdominals, signalling you equal desire for it.
You scream into the earth as he plunges forward, his knot invading you and stretching you so wide your entire body tenses.
“Shhh, my sweet,” he soothes as you get used to the pang of being so harshly stretched, your pussy sealed around him, knotted.
He rocks a few times, and the pressure against a spongy spot inside is so much that you feel a tinderbox ready to explode. Just the mere brush of the fingertips of his other hand on your engorged clit for the very first time is too much, and you are flung starwards. Thrashing under him, his cock locked into you as you convulse and scream, an all-encompassing heat and thrill zipping around your body, all your muscles tensing and releasing, over and over.
Dimly, above you, you hear him curse, sing your praises, a litany of possessive filth that prolongs your bliss. You feel his cock spurting ropes within you, his seed painting your inside, no place to escape, with you locked together. And then the sharp pain in the meat of your shoulder as his teeth sink into flesh. His incisor breaks your skin, making you howl, his sounds near inhuman as he sucks greedily upon your blood.
He then kisses the wound, somehow healing it, as wave after countless wave of euphoria crashes over you, until you are a strung-out mess, a ragdoll limp in his arms. He grunts and falls to the side, taking you with him, your bodies still locked, ending up in a spooned position as you both struggle for breath.
As the frenzy of your heat ebbs and you return to yourself, you realise you do not yet know your alpha’s name, even as you lie yoked together, he unable to withdraw.
“Who are you?” You mumble, unfazed that you bonded for life before you so much as knew his name, lacing your fingers together as he lazily kisses your shoulder.
“Benedict Bridgerton.”
He chuckles at your gasp of recognition—one of the most notorious and prestigious families of the Ton. That you are now bound to, for life.
“I had no idea there were alphas in your lineage.”
He pauses before responding, a shudder in his body as he empties more seed, his knot loosening a fraction.
“The Viscount Bridgerton has been an alpha for nine generations over,” he attests. “Although I am the first known second son to be as well...” His struggle with his alpha identity suddenly making so much sense from that one sentence.
You give him your name as you lie together, a contented calm in your very bones as you share soft kisses and caresses. His knot eventually lessens to the point he could withdraw, but he doesn't, and you are glad of it, a longing for him to always be there.
“I can feel your emotions already,” Benedict murmurs into your neck, speaking of your bond, growing by the moment as your blood and fluids mingle. “I vow I will spend the rest of my life endeavouring to keep you exactly as you are now.”
“How am I now?” You coquet, reaching back to stroke your fingers through his hair, wild from your exertions, feeling his warm scalp under your fingertips.
He pauses, and you feel his crooked smile as he slides his fingers onto the swell of your breast to capture your nipple, pinching gently, making you moan.
“Sated,” he answers, his lips hot on your neck as his fingers trail lower, tickling down your diaphragm to your belly. “And, if I am so very fortunate…” they swirl a warm pattern low into your pubic hair, “...already bred.”
Something in that word is elemental, primal, makes your pussy clench around him, him growling into your scalp as you gush and coat his downy thighs and your own. And you both gasp as instantly he hardens inside you again, taking him by surprise as much as yourself.
“Well, I presume this is my call to make certain of such…” he dusks.
He yanks your higher leg up and over his hip, your other heel digging into the ground as he thrusts deep in one swift motion that has you crying his name, your nails raking down his arm that wraps across your chest. And right there, he takes you again, mercilessly. Your screams muffled into his hand as he fucks you so hard your eyes roll, leaving teeth marks on his palm, biting him in return while he snarls encouragements hotly in your ear.
—
Sometime later, you help each other back into your somewhat frayed clothing, knowing there are likely only a few hours before the need arises within you both again. When you emerge from under the large foliage, Benedict brushes some of the grime from your face, but you know it to be a token gesture; you are certainly too dishevelled to be seen.
“I do suppose we would cause quite the stir if either of us went back into the ballroom in such a state,” he smirks.
“I have no desire to be in Whistledown,” you blanch, pleased to see you are standing in a spot concealed from the house, his copious seed trickling down your bare legs and gathering tackily in the soles of your shoes.
“Then I suggest we slip away and quickly gather whatever additional clothing we can for our long journey,” he counsels, nodding to an almost hidden doorway in a nearby high brick wall. “If lucky, we should be able to cover some twenty miles before your next heat…”
“Journey?”
“Gretna Green,” he ascribes, his face morphing into a boyish smile, “we should do this properly, as well.”
Your heart lights up, and you throw yourself into his arms. Not only your bonded mate, but also your soon-to-be husband.
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A/N: hello everyone! It's been months since I've written something for Benedict, but I feel him coming back to me with his season so close!!! I'm so so so excited for him and Sophie :)) and I've been loving the things I've seen from the season already regarding them! Anyways, this took me a really long time to write, and I started it on a day I was quite sad, but didn't manage to post it then for a self-indulgent comfort fic lol. Here it is now though! <3
CW: nothing, Benedict being a sweetheart, Benedict being stolen away to help Anthony with something (how dare he, Benedict's wife needs him, Anthony smh), fluff, hurt and comfort (but the hurt isn't specified, it's just a bad day), Reader feeling morose for no good reason (we all have those days), no mention of y/n, UNBETAED.
(we'll have new gifs from his season soon!!!)
(2.1k words)
gif by @benedictsbridgerton !! <3
It had proven to be a challenging day. Not for any particular reasons. Days were sometimes challenging without there being a genuine challenge to be surmounted. She’d woken and felt instantly that she would not have an easy go of it this day. What’s more, she’d found, upon waking, that Benedict wasn’t in their bed, which was highly unusual. If ever he woke earlier than her, he remained in bed and busied himself with reading or sketching until she woke so they could start their morning together. However, on most days, he enjoyed to sleep in and she never begrudged him that. To have him away from their bed entirely was an unwelcome notion, especially on a day such as this, where she felt she needed the warmth of his comfort more than usual.
She gave herself a few minutes to remain in bed, staring at the ceiling briefly, then turning with a huff onto her side to stare out the window, and then back onto her other side with another huff to stare at the wall, before ringing the service bell. She knew no good would come of delaying this day and what it might bring.
“Good morning, madam.” Said Poppy, one of the newer members of the help.
It was her first time in London, seeing as she’d been hired from the village near My Cottage. The household had only just recently all arrived and moved into Benedict’s London apartments for the upcoming season, and Poppy, still of an agreeable age, seemed to now walk with a pep in her step from being in such a large city for the first time.
“Good morning, Poppy,” She replied while Poppy busied herself with opening the curtains and opening one window to let fresh air in. “How are you enjoying London?”
“Oh, ma’am, it is most wonderful! So much of it to see, so many people!” Poppy returned, voice full of earnest joy, now helping her into her robe whilst she was putting on her slippers.
“That gladdens me, Poppy. Have you enough time to see more of the city? I find it is most pleasant with the sunset. Though, that may very well be because I have a gentleman whose arm is offered to me once I wish to see the city so.” She smiled weakly, thoughts straying to Benedict as they so often did.
“Oh, do not fuss over me, madam. I… are you quite well? You seem somewhat morose, madam.” Poppy inquired cautiously, standing at her full height, arms in front of her as she watched the lady of the house sit down at her vanity.
Poppy moved to stand behind her chair, reaching for the hair brush her lady preferred.
“It is nothing. It is only that… some days are harder than others. Do you feel similarly sometimes, Poppy?” At Poppy’s nod, she continued. “I suppose that I was hoping to have Benedict’s company today, but he seems to not be here. Is he downstairs, perhaps?”
“No, madam… Mr. Bridgerton left the house about an hour ago. Viscount Bridgerton had called him to Bridgerton House. Or so I heard from Mr. Bridgerton’s valet.”
She nodded tersely, offering a weak smile to Poppy in the mirror.
“I see.”
“I am sorry to be bringing disappointing news, madam. Mr. Bridgerton will certainly be home before nightfall, though. He gave no signs that he would be sleeping at Bridgerton House. He shall be back to you, madam.” Poppy smiled gently, setting the brush down now that its job was done. “The dress for today, madam?” She queried gently, walking over to open the lady’s dresser.
“I believe… that one over there.” The lady pointed, thinking hard on what cravat Benedict had likely selected for the day, and opting to match her dress to it.
“Of course, madam. A wonderful choice.” Poppy smiled knowingly, reaching for the dress and busying herself with preparing it to be worn.
“I believe I will be going outside today.”
“Outside, madam? Where to? Shall a carriage be necessary? I shall call down to one of the footmen, have him prepare one for you at once.”
“Well, I shall break my fast first, but perhaps in an hour, at most, yes. I wish to have a promenade. Perhaps to wash the melancholy away.”
“Certainly, madam. A good idea.”
Once she’d gotten dressed and gone down to the dinner room, the area feeling vastly empty even though only one man was missing from it, she broke her fast with whatever caught her fancy. However, in truth, the true object of her desires was not within the room. An unfortunate happening that she wished to remedy at once.
So, once she’d had some food, she got into the carriage the household had called for her, and she set en-route towards Bridgerton House. Once they’d gotten closer to it, she bid the driver to stop the carriage so that she might walk the rest of the way to the House. The driver was initially uncertain, not wishing to leave her alone, but she insisted, and gestured towards the streets, currently filling themselves with promenading couples, likely on their way to St. James’ Park.
She was helped down, and from there began her solitary promenade. As she’d told the driver, many couples were out on the streets, and many of them recognized her and greeted her politely. Some even asked her if she was alright, asked her why she was without her famed gentleman, and offered to have her join them so that she might not be alone. She denied that last offer whenever it came up, the shake of her head as she did a gentle thing so as to calm them and stop them from pushing further. She did not much feel like talking to anyone at all today. Well, perhaps there was one exception to that rule. And yet he was not there for her to talk to.
Just as the streets were getting emptier the closer she was to Bridgerton House, her walk seemingly ended. She knew that it would be the next turn, to the right. However, as she was walking up the road she’d turn down the right on, a carriage came from the very direction she was going towards. She ignored the carriage, busying herself with thinking about what could have caused her melancholy. She’d had a sleep average in length and quality to her norm, she’d had food upon waking, she’d not quarrelled with Benedict the night before, nor with anyone, really. Truly, there was no good reason for her to be morose! She’d hoped that she would find a sound, logical explanation. She much disliked it being left up to the fates.
The sound of horse hoofs coming to a dramatic stop, as well as a carriage careening to a stop right after dragged her out of her conjecture. She turned her head to where the sound had come from, just in time to see a very familiar man stepping out of the carriage she’d just seen turning onto her street.
Benedict looked equal parts confused and amused. He ran up to her (quite unsafe), crossing the street without care.
“My darling, what in the world are you doing?” He panted, catching his breath that he’d likely lost from surprise and from the unexpected run he’d just taken.
“Good morning, my husband.” She riposted calmly, leaning in for a kiss. He returned it, naturally, his bare hand (he’d pulled off one of his gloves for this) tenderly caressing her cheek before moving to her waist.
“Good morning,” He repeated, now more lightly amused than anything because he’d seen she was well. “I shall ask again, however you should take care to notice that I am doing so calmly and serenely, what are you doing here?”
“I am on a promenade.”
“Yes, I quite well see that, my darling. However, a promenade all on your own? No chaperone, no one to hold a conversation with?”
“I am married now, as I ought to remind you, perhaps. No need for a chaperone.” She looked at him, gauging how he’d respond.
“Yes, well… then, no me?” He asked, dejected and pouting briefly (though that was perhaps only to amuse her).
“You were absent from our household. To have you at my side for a promenade seemed quite impossible, do you not agree?”
He smiled sheepishly.
“Ah, is that what this is about? My absence?” He queried, voice going up in pitch just slightly. “Do you happen to be cross with me now, my love?”
“Cross with your absence. I woke up hoping you would be there.” She confessed, looking away from his eyes. Her eyes landed conveniently onto his cravat, a sense of pride lighting up inside her amidst her sullen temperament. She’d guessed his cravat colour right.
Benedict noticed the difference in her and he frowned gently, pulling her into his chest.
“What has happened, darling?” He murmured, kissing her head.
“I woke up unhappy.”
“Due to what happenings?”
“None, from what I have gathered.”
“Ah, so simply one of those days, then. Much like the days I sometimes have where I cannot even look at my paintings. Tomorrow shall be better, my love.” He kissed her head again, keeping her close so as to keep her warm. He had his long coat on, the one he wore on colder days.
“I know… I only wished you could have told me that as I woke, rather than hours later.”
“That cannot be helped, I’m afraid. You should take this issue to Anthony. I will help you berate him, I promise.” He chuckled. “Not now, however. I have seen enough of his visage for the day. Let us return home, so I might tend to my wife.” He smiled, playful and himself as ever, and offered her his arm so that they might safely cross the street over to the carriage he’d been in.
She was surprised, but shouldn’t have been, at the carriage still waiting for them.
“They love us,” Benedict murmured once he noticed her surprise. “Moreover, they are all good, quite people. The ones that work for us.”
She nodded back, a small smile of gratefulness.
“And, they have no choice.” He finished, giving her one of his sideways grins, the ones so very boyish in nature.
Once they had settled into their carriage and Benedict had instructed the driver, a man around his age by the name of Gwent, to drive them back home, they began their journey home, ending her impromptu walk she’d been so eager to have.
“You know,” Benedict began, whispering even though there was no need, what with the carriage’s sounds drowning out their voices for anyone else. “I do believe Gwent is quite fond of that new lady’s maid of yours. Poppy?”
She smiled softly, spirits already having lifted in his presence.
“She is very excited to be in London for the first time.”
“I see.” Benedict replied conspiratorially, eyes shining. “I shall, subtly, of course, relay this information to Gwent. And give him the rest of the day off. In case he wishes to take an impromptu promenade around London. Alone or otherwise.”
“You are a romantic, my love.” She accused him softly.
“With you at my side, what else could I be, my darling?” He replied, deftly pulling off one of her gloves so as to kiss her knuckles.
“Now, I’ve quite the busy day ahead of me.” He said solemnly, pulling her into his side.
“What? Why?” She asked, frowning already.
“I have a wife to hearten and console. A most challenging task, you see.” He teased, pressing a kiss to her temple in apology, not wishing to invoke her wrath with one of his silly jests.
“You best get to it now, husband, lest I truly become cross with you.” She threatened, her words devoid of malice.
“Mm, indeed. Once we are home, what shall we do? A spot of reading, perhaps? Poetry? Or, some painting? You could sit for me.”
“Or, we might sleep.” She suggested simply.
“Well, naturally, however I assumed that would come later, darling. But, if my wife insists, who am I to deny her? I am but a simple man.” He smiled.
“I rather meant actual sleeping, Ben.” She said knowingly, looking at him with a raised brow.
His mouth opened briefly, and then he closed it again, smiling at her (but it looked more sheepish than charming).
“Of course! That is what I meant too, obviously.”
“Obviously.” She repeated, a smile slipping onto her face before she could stop it.
“But truly,” He leaned in to whisper against her cheek, kissing it. “How do you expect me to react when I see that my wife has somehow matched the colour of her day dress to my cravat without her even having seen what I got dressed in?”
“That, simply means that we are well matched.” She replied softly, the two meeting in a soft kiss.
“And who am I to argue with the fates?” He whispered against her mouth, pressing his forehead gently to hers.
Summary: after bottled up feeling becomes too much Benedict finally confesses his love to his childhood best friend.
Warrings: SMUT, innocent/virgin reader, first times, oral(F receiving), unprotected sex, pull out methods, Benedict being a total sweetheart like usual, kinda public sex? But not really(in a gazebo at night).
MasterList
“What is it, truly, to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty. So much so that all your defences crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her. To honour her being with your deeds and words. That is what the true poet describes” Benedict said to help Anthony, but in the end he couldn't keep his eyes off a certain someone as the words fell out of his mouth. It was words he always believed in, but never had the guts to act upon them.
“That's nice...” Anthony admited. He crossed his arms and nodded. “now if you resight those words to y/n that would be grand”
Benedict rolled his eyes, if it was one thing Anthony never gave up on was his little brother and the girl he considered his best friend.
-present day
It was late into the night, Benedict couldn't get her or the last few months out of his head. Benedict and y/n have always been so close, practically glued to the hip since childhood. A blind man could see the love they shared with one another, the problem is he's never made the move to court her
Whenever he gets closer or the spark becomes too much he backs off with the feeling of unworthiness. Anthony never fails with the snide comment about Benedict admitting his feelings.
That night he truly felt he messed up. He had gotten wrapped up with someone else after sharing a kiss with y/n months prior. He wanted everything to be more than alright, he wanted to have the courage to tell the only woman he truly loved that she is the only one he could ever want.
Benedict gave up on getting any sleep and walked out to the backyard. That's when he saw her on one of the swings alone. His heart skipped a beat, even in darkness and in her nightgown she was still unimaginably beautiful.
“You've been avoiding me…”
“I'm not avoiding you…” y/n sighed, avoiding eye contact and gently swung on the swing.
They had been avoiding each other, or y/n had been avoiding him. She had thought he loved her as much as she did him. Y/n had found out he's been sleeping around with someone else. I guess she just lost hope on a future with him.
Benedict let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He watched y/n swing for a few moments, the silence around making his heart beat faster than normal. The only sound was the creaking of the swing sets and the wind rustling the trees. He finally found the strength to speak. “We need to talk darling”
“I don't wish to talk to you” y/n snapped softly. She let out a frustrated huff, standing up from the swing and got back on it. This time she was standing on it with her back to Benedict, she didn't care if it was childish.
A frown came to his face as he saw her turn her back on him. He had to hold back a chuckle seeing y/n standing on the swing set, he thought it would be cute if he wasn't trying to earn her forgiveness.
Benedict took a step in front of y/n and stopped the swing with one hand. “You can be mad at me all you want darling, but we're talking about this”
“Of course I won't get a say in the matter” I said frustrated.
Benedict let out a sigh, placing his hand on the tree next to the swing, blocking her in. “you never had a problem speaking your mind to me before, so speak your mind”
“Fine,” she snapped. “I'm angry at you! You're the most intelligent, most dim-witted person I ever met, but then again I must be beating you on that one because I was dim-witted to think you could ever see more than your best friend”
He was surprised with the coldness in her voice, his heart broke at the thought of all the pain he caused her. “Darling, you think I can't see all that? you're the most beautiful, kindest, and smart woman I have ever laid eyes on. I see all of you, I always have”
“Why don't I believe you?” y/n asked in a heartbroken tone, trying to keep herself from tearing up. “bloody hell, do I actually mean anything more to you?”
“You do darling, you mean more to me than anyone else. You always have!”
Benedict's heart ached at the brokenness in her voice. He could see the pain in your eyes, the sight made him cringe in regret, wishing he had just spoke to her about his feelings instead of going off with the other girl.
“Please look at me” reached his free hand out, moving his fingers gently against her chin. Y/n looked away, tears pricking her eyes. “don't speak words you don't me... Especially don't speak words you'll regret later”
Benedict placed a gentle finger under y/n’s chin and finally turned her face to him, it shattered his heart more to see the tears in her eyes. “Please darling don't cry and please don't take what I say as lying”
He hated the silence, all he wanted to hear was her voice and more than ever he wanted to make sure she believed him. He leaned closer to y/n’s face, gently pressing his forehead against hers. He was desperate to make her believe him.
“I've loved you for as long as I can remember. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, something stirred within me, a connection that resonated deep in my soul.
As the years went by, my feelings for you only grew stronger, yet I found myself hiding them from you and from myself. I became tangled in a web of self-doubt and unworthiness. I convinced myself that I was unworthy of your love and strength, that my love meant nothing.
But now, looking back, You filled a part of my soul I didn't even realize was empty, you healed the scars I didn't even know were there. I see how foolish I was to ignore my heart for so long. Believe me when I say you're the thing I want most of all”
Y/n looked into his blue eyes, tears pooling out of her (e/c) ones. “benedict…”
Benedict couldn't bring himself to take his hands off her. He was trying to fight the urge to hold y/n tight against him, but he just couldn't. He lifted his hand up to her cheek, slowly wiping some of the tears away and caressed her skin. He leaned his head down ever so slightly, his mouth a few inches from hers. “Darling, Say you believe me.please”
Finally, y/n pressed her forehead against his, their noses bumping gently together. “I believe you” y/n whispered. Shebplaced her hands on both sides of his jaw as their breath mingled together.
Benedict exhaled heavily, the feeling of their skin touching together was like a soothing fire. It lit his soul with a passion that he had been trying to ignore. His heart thumped heavily in his chest, the sound of it thundering behind his eardrums.
He leaned even closer, only a breath still separating their lips. His eyes searched hers, his head was spinning with a burning desire, barely holding himself back. When she spoke those words that he longed to hear, the last thread of restraint broke. “Darling... Can I kiss you?”
“yes”
He couldn't resist any longer. His hand moved up into her hair, intertwining into the curls as his eyes flickered from your mouth to your eyes. He quickly closed the gap between their mouths. He captured her lips in a searing kiss. It was like a dam broke inside him. It was desperate and hungry yet needy, making her nearly lose balance off the swing she was standing on.
Benedict felt y/n start to stumble and he quickly wrapped one of his arms tightly around her waist as one of her arms wrapped around his neck and kept a strong hold of the rope on the swing with the other.
His lips moved softly but desperately against hers as he kept her from falling. The feeling of her body pressed so tightly against his made him let out a small moan into the kiss. He held her in place, deepening the kiss. He kissed her like it was their first and last kiss. His tongue slowly swiped your bottom lip, begging for access.
Benedict pulled her off the swing, swiftly pushing her against the tree next to them. He heard the sweet moans coming from her lips. His tongue twirled against hers, tasting her sweet mouth. He pressed his body against hers, pinning her between the tree and himself. He tilted his head slightly, his mouth moving against hers at an angle. The feeling of his fingertips tracing along her curves made her heart pound against her chest. It made her feel exhilarated, nervous, and loved all at the same time.
Benedict broke the kiss when his hand reached the hem of y/n’s nightgown, his lips then traveled down the side of her neck. The feeling of her skin against his mouth left a trail of hot sparks. He stopped to gently kiss a sensitive part of your neck, his tongue slowly tracing the soft skin.
“w-wait” she, her breath hitching as she looked up at him. “y-you know I've n-never done this before” she whispered softly.
He stared at her with nothing but love as he gently held her hips with both his hands, his thumbs rubbing light circles on her skin as he held her against the tree.
“I know darling,” he replied, his voice low and deep, his eyes never leaving hers. “that's why we're not doing it here”
Benedict gently pulled y/n away from the tree, his hands never leaving her body. He looked into her eyes, watching the mixture of passion and nervousness in them. He felt his heart swell with love and desire for. He could practically feel all his emotions bubbling at the surface.
“Do you trust me?” he held his hand out.
The way his eyes stared into her soul, they were always her favorite feature of his. They held nothing but trust and love. “I trust you” y/n said softly and placed her hand in his.
Benedict felt a spark of electricity. His fingers tightened around hers, his hand fitting around it like a perfect missing piece. He lifted her hand up and slowly kissed her knuckles, his eyes not breaking eye contact. “Come darling, the night is still young”
Benedict led y/n through the yard, their hands never breaking from each other. The sound of their soft footsteps on the ground echoed slightly against the night air. The only other sound was from the crickets chirping in the grass and trees. Benedict led her to the gazebo in the very back of the yard, a spot usually hidden by the darkness of the night. It was a small structure, made of wood, with white paint and wisteria winding around it.
Y/n held his hand tight as they silently walked up the steps, her heart pounding with anticipation and anxiety. He wanted to soothe her anxiousness but he was nervous himself. So many years of loving her, dreaming of this moment, and he still couldn't believe it was finally happening. He stopped when she reached the top of the steps, looking into her eyes as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. His voice was low and gentle. “Just relax darling... It's just you and me here”
Y/n nodded, putting all her trust in him. “I know”
Benedict moved closer to her, his other hand gently coming up to caress the side of her face, his touch was soft and gentle. “You're safe with me darling. I promise I'll take good care of you”
“I know you will” she said softly.
He felt y/n’s hand press against his chest, right over his heart. It almost skipped a beat under her touch. He leaned a little closer, his head slowly lowering until his lips were hovering above hers. “And I promise to worship your body the way you deserve to be worshipped”
Y/n cupped his cheek, kissing him softly as he pressed her back against the pillar. His hands slowly moved to her waist, his fingers gently tracing up and down her curves. He leaned his body against hers, trapping her between him and the pillar.
Y/n moaned softly against his lips, her fingers slowly carding through his hair slowly as their tounges tangled together. Benedict ever so gently broke the kiss and started trailing kisses and gentle nips on her neck. He sucked gently on a spot just slightly below your ear, knowing how sensitive it was. His hands slowly inched higher under her nightgown and lifted you up from under your thighs, carrying her to the middle of the gazebo. He gently layed her down on a spread out quilt Hyacinth left. “are you comfortable here?” he asked softly, she nodded softly.
He knelt down, placing his knees on either side of her hips and leaned over her. He looked down with darkened eyes, slowly inching her nightgown higher. Benedict's eyes traced over her skin as it was slowly revealed to him. He placed his hands on your thighs, his fingers tracing up and down the soft skin. “You're so gorgeous, so beautiful” he said softly, making her blush.
A soft moan left her lips as the cool air hit her exposed skin. He leaned forward, bending over until his mouth was hovering above her stomach. “I'll be gentle, darling. We'll take it slow”
“I trust you” y/n whispered, giving him the green light. Benedict carefully removes her nightgown, throwing it to the other side of the gazebo. He stared down at her innocent beauty, taking a moment to just look at her.
The blush that formed under his gaze only caused his desire to increase. He lays his body down between her legs, his body hovering over her. He closed the distance, making Y/n moaned softly against his lips. She cupped his jaw as his lips clamed hers and gently.
Benedict lets out a low growl, his hands sliding down to her waist as he deepens the kiss. His heart is pounding in his chest. “y/n…”
“Y-yes?” she whisper, her heart pounding against her chest. She stared up at him, desperately wanting his clothes off when she felt his hard erection pressing against her thigh.
He broke the kiss, his breath coming out heavy as he leaned his forehead against hers. He tried to control his breathing but he was failing as all he could think of was just how badly he wanted her. “I need you, y/n. Will you let me make love to you?”
“Yes. God, yes” y/n moaned softly and desperately. Benedict looked down at her, his voice was husky and thick with need. “Tell me if you need to stop, darling. Tell me if it's too much” His hands started their travels again, tracing every curve and every inch of her body.
Y/n kissed back passionately as she started untucking his shirt from his pants. Benedict felt her hands work on the buttons of his shirt. The nervous tremble in her fingers made his heart skip a beat. “Here, darling,” Benedict gently moved her hands away from his shirt. He sat up, kneeling between her legs. He slowly lifted his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere off to the side.
Her thighs clenched together without realizing it. He watched the way her eyes roamed down his chest. The way she lightly touched him sent chills down his spine. He felt his legs jerk when her fingers traced down the V-line of his lower abdomen, his muscles taut, almost as if he was struggling to control himself.
“Darling” He whispered, his hands gently spreading her legs apart. “My beautiful y/n” He leans forward, pressing soft kisses along her inner thigh.
“B-ben” y/n moaned softly, her head fell back in pleasure as he trailed his lips up her inner thigh. Benedict's blue bord into hers, his gaze filled with love and desire. He never broke eye contact as he continued trailing kisses higher until he reaches her soaking clit, teasing her with gentle kisses and licks. “You taste like heaven”
Y/n moaned almost embarrassing loud, feeling his tounge against her fold for the first time. Out of instincted she arched her hips up, gripping his hair. He hums in pleasure at the taste of her, gripping her hips to hold them still. “Let go, my love,” He continues to lick and nip, his face soaked in her release as his tongue flicking at your clit. “You're mine”
Y/n wasn't completely clueless to sex, but the pleasure was intense and all she could think about was him. She moaned and cried his name as a new feeling tightened in her stomach. “B-ben... I t-think” she couldn't speak or think straight. “something is happening”
Benedict looks up at you. He speaks softly, his voice reassuring. “It's okay, my love. You're having your first orgasm” He picked up the pace, licking and sucking on her clit like a starved man. His fingers gently pressed against her entrance, pumping in and out slowly.
Y/n gripped his hair, arching her hips. “Benedict!”
Benedict, licking up every last drop of her release as she rode out her first orgasm. “You're so beautiful when you come, y/n”
He gives her folds one last lick then starts trailing kisses up her body, paying special attention to her breasts and nipples. “I'm going to make love to you now, are you ready?” He positions himself at her entrance, looking into her eyes for any uncertainty.
“Will it hurt?” y/n asked softly, carding her fingers through his hair.
Benedict looks up at her, his blue eyes dark and filled with desire and love. “It might at first. But I promise it'll feel good after that. I promise I'm going to be gentle, darling”
Y/n nodded softly, he kissed her back gently, before breaking the kiss to look into her eyes. He positions himself at her entrance, taking her hips in his hand. “just tell me when you're ready”
“I'm ready” she said softly, taking a deep breath.
Benedict starts pushing inside slowly, his face contorting in concentration as he tries to be gentle. “Ah, y/n” He breathes out heavily, his eyes never leaving hers. Y/n wimpered at the slight sting, digging her nails into his back as he stretched her out. “B-Benedict”
He stills for a moment, letting her adjust to his size. “Shh, it's okay, my love. Just breathe” He kisses her forehead softly, his heart pounding in his chest. “You're doing so well” He whispered as he continues pushing inside, inch by inch. Once he was finally fully sheathed inside he starts to slowly rock his hips, trying to ease the pain.
Y/n held on to him tight, her breathing was heavy and she wimpered his name as she adjusted to his size. “B-Benny. Oh god, Ben” she moaned as the pain slowly turned into pleasure. He started picking up the pace, pushing deeper and deeper each time. “You feel amazing, y/n. So unbelievably good”
“Benny!” she moaned into the night, tugging at his hair. He hisses in pleasure, gripping her thighs to move them higher and wider. “Oh, y/n” He groans, thrusting deeper. “You're so beautiful, love the sounds you make”
“C-can you go faster?” she asked innocently. “p-please”
Benedict grits his teeth, fighting against his own desire to obey her request. “Faster, y/n?” He asks, his voice strained. “but ou have to promise me that you'll tell me the moment it becomes too much for you, okay? I don't want to hurt you, darling” He said looking into her eyes, his own filled with a burning intensity.
“You won't hurt me” she said softly.
He nods, his heart racing with excitement and concern. “okay, love” He grips her thighs even tighter and starts thrusting at a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing into the night. “Oh, y/n, you feel incredible” He moans, his eyes never breaking the inten eye contact.
Y/n trailed her hands done his back frantically, looking for somthing to hold onto to and ground herself. He growls at the feeling of her hand gripping his ass, his hips snapping with increased speed. “You're going to make me lose control” He warns, his voice deep and husky. “And I can't have that, darling.Not yet”
“W-why not?” she asked softly.
Benedict panting heavily, trying to regulate his breath. “Because when I lose control, I don't hold back.And I'm not sure you're ready for that, y/n” He said with a serious expression, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and desire.
Y/n grabed his face, cupping both sides of his jaw. She looked into his eyes wirh nothing but love and trust. “it's okay, we're okay to go harder”
He looks back at her, he stutters, unable to find words. His hips snap into hers again, causing him to lose his train of thought. He groans as his grip tightens on her thighs, making her head fall back in pleasure. She moaned his name like a prayer.
Benedict buries his face in her neck, his teeth marking her skin as he speaks against you. “y/n” He chants her name like a mantra, his love for her overwhelming him. “Fuck... You're everything to me” He whispers, his voice breaking with emotion.
“I love you” she moans, her teeth piercing his skin.
He lets out a groan, his body shaking with the effort of holding back. “I love you too, y/n. More than anything” He wraps his arms around her body tightly, holding her as he continues to thrust.
then that close, tight feeling in y/n's stomach hit her again and it was stronger than last time. She moaned his name, gripping his hair “I think…” she shuttered.
Benedict's eyes rolling back as he groans low in his throat. “Fuck, yes!” He thrusts harder now, chasing his own release. “I'm close, y/n” He pants, sweat dripping from his brow.
“I'm so close, Benny” as soon as those words fell from her lips the knot in her stomach snapped. She threw her head back moaning, her orgasm infecting her sences.
“y/n!” He roars, feeling your tight walls clenching around him. The feeling of her coming around him is too much for him to handle, his own orgasm hitting him like a freight train. “w-where do you want me to come?” he aksed quickly.
Y/n’s heart was pounding against her chest, her orgasm still hitting her like a freight train. “I... I don't know” she said breathlessly, digging her nails into his back.
He groans. The feeling of her nails on his back causing him to thrust harder into her. “Fuck, Love” He takes a deep breath, his body feeling like it's on fire. “It's okay, I'll... I'll pull out, Darling”
He pulls out, causing y/n to moan as every inch of him slipped out of her soaking folds. He groans, coating her stomach in his cum as he holds himself up. He panted heavily. “y/n, fuck” He looks down at her, his eyes filled with love and adoration. “I need you to look at me, Darling” He gently tilts her head up to meet his gaze.
Benedict smiles, his thumb gently tracing her jawline. “You're so beautiful, Love” He leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips before pulling back. “I love you. So much”
“I love you too” y/n says softly, making his heart fill with joy at your words. “I'm going to clean you up. You're all sticky. Okay?”
Benedict reaches over her, grabbing his shirt. “hold on, Darling” He gently cleans up the mess on her stomach before wiping between your legs. “when we get inside I'll run you a bath”
Y/n moaned softly as he cleaned between her thighs, the noise making Benedict glance up. His throat tightened at the sight of your beautiful, cum-covered body. “Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I?”
“N-no. It felt amazing, ” she said softly, her eyes fluttering. “what we did” she whispered.
He glances up at y/n, his heart swelling with love for her. Benedict watches the blush spread across her cheeks. “You have no idea how much you mean to me” He leans in to place a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling away.
“let's get you inside” he gently picked her up bridal style, making sure the quilt is covering her exposed body. Benedict held her safe and close as he carried up to the house. He was cautious as he carried her to his room in case of anyone who might be awake in the late hours of the night.
Benedict Bridgerton x inexperienced!american!fem!reader
summary: After a brutal critique of a newly displayed art piece in a museum, newly debuted reader finds herself apologizing to the artist who heard her. After multiple meetings, the time they spend together becomes precious to her. One slip up causes Benedict Bridgerton, a know “Rake” amongst the ton, to be left with the decision to marry the young woman or a duel.
part two part three part four part five part six part seven
cw: suggestive language
word count: 4k
January 28th, 1817
Your parents sat across from you in the carriage, both sets of eyes on you as you watched all of the scenery pass by in the window. You didn’t want to leave your old life behind, but you felt like you had no choice since you just wanted to please your parents. That was your biggest problem; wanting to please everyone around you so badly that you’d sacrifice your own happiness.
You were set to be debuted the night you had arrived and were a nervous wreck. You had no interest in being married off to a perfect stranger, but you felt like you didn’t have any other choice. Maybe if you played your cards right, though, you’d be Queen’s Charlotte’s diamond of the season.
But that wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want everyone’s eyes on you and honestly couldn’t bear to be the talk of the town or worse, a victim of Lady Whistledown’s latest gossip. You wanted absolutely no part in that.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” your mother told you, almost in a mocking tone. She never cared for how reserved you were and was always trying her best to push you into friendships with people you wouldn’t have touched with a ten foot pole.
“Oh, leave her alone, Vivian,” your father nudged her. “She’s allowed to be nervous, this is her debut.”
“Well, I’m not nervous,” your sister, Lilith piped up. Of course she wasn’t. Because Lilith was perfect. The perfect eldest child that your parents seemed to favor over you no matter how close you were to your father.
You didn’t like the feeling, but you envied your sister. She was very outgoing and not to mention beautiful, two things you didn’t think you were even close to being. At least, the outgoing part. You were more reserved and had been laughed at for it your whole life.
I’m sorry, could you speak up? No one can hear you.
You’re not very talkative, are you?
Why don’t you say something?
Those words always lived in your head, and no matter how hard you tried, you always found yourself either speaking too loudly about things you were passionate about or not speaking loud enough. That would have meant that you had to take authority and you knew absolutely nothing about that.
The carriage rolled to a stop and you turned away from the window, rubbing your hands together to remove the sweat from them. You then reached up and subconsciously fiddled with the diamond necklace that your father gave you before you left America. You always wore it and it was something you messed with when you were particular nervous or needed something to stimulate your mind.
The carriage door opened and you were the first to step out, your eyes widening as they took in your new home. It was far bigger than the one you lived in back home and you wondered why that much space was needed for your family of four. The place could have easily fit many families of your size and still have room for more.
You headed inside and briefly took in the main level before making a beeline for the upstairs, desperate to see your new room since that was definitely going to be where you spent most of your time. You had a lot of new books to read and were just looking forward to it having to share with Lilith anymore.
You claimed the first room you walked into which had to be about three times the size of your old one. It was already set up with your new furniture that looked much better than your old stuff. Maybe living there wouldn’t have been so bad.
You collapsed onto your bed and felt your eyes get heavy from the very long journey you had just taken, finding yourself quickly falling asleep right there and not even fighting it. It was what you had deserved for sitting through all of your mother and sister’s comments without a single complaint.
A knock on your door woke you from your nap and you opened your eyes to see your mother standing in the doorway. She had a stern look on her face and you wondered what you had done to upset her now. It seemed like you were always doing that despite your need to please her. She never agreed with the way you spoke or the words you liked to use. She just didn’t like that you were smarter than her.
“Y/n, what are you doing in bed, you’re supposed to be getting ready.” Her voice was more angry than it should have been and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at her dramatics. You had plenty of time to get ready since the ball didn’t start for a few hours.
Just then your apparently new lady’s maid hurried into the room with your dress for the evening which you hadn’t even seen yet since your mother had picked it out, but you knew that you were going to hate it since you never saw eye to eye on anything, especially clothing. Your mother stepped into the room and closed to door with every intention of making sure that you actually wore the dress since you always seemed to want to change last minute.
The dress was a shade of green that wasn’t flattering on you in the slightest. Your mother fluffed up the sleeves as she looked at you in the mirror. If you were honest, you hadn’t even wanted to go to the ball, but you felt like you had to. You just wanted to make her happy even if you had to sacrifice your own happiness to do it. She had been so excited for you, but you knew that was just because she was interested in finally getting rid of you for good.
“Well, don’t you look absolutely beautiful,” your father complimented as you descended the stairs. He looked at your mother and gave her a slight glare when she hadn’t said anything to you. Your mother honestly didn’t like the way you looked at all and didn’t feel like she should have lied to you, so she just directed her attention to Lilith like always.
“Y/n, doesn’t your sister look beautiful?” You felt your heart break at hearing those words. How could she say that? Your sister did look beautiful but didn’t you as well? Why were you always second to her? Why did it always feel like it wouldn’t have mattered if you were there or not? Sure, your father cared for you like a parent should have, but it almost felt like he was only behaving that way because he felt bad for you. At least, that was what you were telling yourself.
“You do look beautiful, Lilith,” you practically whispered, staring down at the floor. You found it hard to maintain eye contact so you always settled for something else, whether it was the floor or the wall. Just as long as it wasn’t other people’s eyes, it was safe.
“Thank you, y/n,” she nodded. “I suppose you look beautiful too.” Her tone sounded annoyed, almost as if she was forcing herself to say the words. You almost wished she had said nothing, but Lilith always found an excuse to speak, no matter what came out of her mouth. You were convinced that she just loved hearing her own voice.
You said nothing and turned on your heel, keeping your eyes on your feet at you did so. You wiped a tear that had fallen down your cheek and headed towards the carriage that had been waiting for you and your family. You got inside and moved closer to the window, covering your face with your hand so no one could see you crying. Your mother and Lilith would have just told you that you were being dramatic and your father would baby you and you weren’t in the mood for either of those things. You just wanted to get the night over with so you could go to your room and paint. That was the only way you were able to deal with your feelings. You surely couldn’t take them out on your family, so you had to deal with them in healthy way and painting was the only thing that seemed to relax you.
The carriage door opened once again and your father slipped inside, taking the seat next to you. He silently wrapped his arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder, suddenly having a flashback to crying into that very spot when your mother had said something you hadn’t particularly liked. He was always there when you needed him, the only person in that damn family that even bothered to understand you. He rubbed up and down your arm and you sniffled, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said. That was all he always said when the cycle would repeat itself and even though it was nice that he was making an effort to make you feel better, you didn’t appreciate that he never stood up to your mother or your sister even. He didn’t defend them, but he definitely didn’t put a stop to their behavior either. Because to his core, your father was nothing but a coward. He’d rather just comfort you in secret instead of actually doing something useful. His words were becoming pointless and you were beginning to not believe them anymore. After all, they were only said to stop your tears, not because they had any actual meaning.
“It’s okay,” you nodded, leaning up to look up at him. The look on his face seemed apologetic at first glance, but you knew it was nothing but fake. Just a way to stop the waterworks so you could all be a “happy” family again.
Your mother and Lilith sat on the other side of the carriage and it rolled onto the path to take you all to the ball. The silence between the four of you was deafening and despite you looking out the window, you could feel your mother’s eyes on you. You could tell she was glaring at you, but you honestly couldn’t have cared less. She could be mad at you all she wanted, it was always going to be because you were just being yourself and not an exact replica of her like your sister was. You had tried so hard to be like her, but eventually you got tired of it and your mother couldn’t stand having a daughter that liked things that she didn’t. God forbid you had your own interests.
You swore that she was going to make a snide comment, but she kept quiet. You kind of preferred her speaking over the quiet, because at least then, you’d have something to focus on so all of your thoughts in your brain would mute a little bit. Anytime there was any silence or when you were alone, all of your anxieties would amplify to the point where you could barely think. You always needed some sort of distraction to keep you sane.
The four of you planted your fakest smiles onto your faces and entered the ball that Lady Bridgerton happened to be hosting, trying your best to look like you hadn’t just had the most tense carriage ride in history. That was all going to be left behind and you all had to act like you actually loved each other. Easier said than done.
You slowly distanced yourself from your family before placing yourself by the nearest wall. You definitely weren’t going to speak to any suitors and most definitely weren’t going to dance with any of them either. That was all Lilith. You were sure she was going to end up engaged by the end of the night and you’d be alone just like always, but that was how you liked it.
“That is a lovely dress.” You turned to your left to see the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. She had lovely brown skin and her pink dress complimented it beautifully. Her hair was put up in an elegant updo and you hoped that someday, you’d look half as pretty as she did. You looked around to see who she was speaking to and realized that you were the only one around.
“My apologies,” she smiled. “Viscountess Bridgerton, but you can call me Kate. And who might you be?” Bridgerton? So that must have been Anthony’s wife that Francesca had told you about in her letters when the two had tied the knot a few years ago. She was even more beautiful than she was described. You turned back to the woman in front of you and remembered that she had asked you a question. What was it? Oh right, your name. What was that again?
“I’m y/n,” you told her as your eyes moved to decorations that were on the wall a few feet behind her. Kate nodded, a smile on her face, thinking that you were nothing but adorable and found that you reminded her of her little sister, Edwina. And because of that, she felt the need to help you out. To protect you. She didn’t know you, but she wanted to help you find the perfect match.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss y/n,” she smiled wide and for whatever reason, it made you feel better. For once, talking to someone didn’t feel like a chore and it seemed like Kate was genuinely interested in having a conversation with you and not doing it just because she had to. She could see the anxiety and nervousness in your eyes and just wanted to help you out, to let you know that you had a friend. Someone who would make you feel less alone.
“You too,” you nodded and she gestured to the refreshment table with her hand.
“Would you like to get a drink?” All you could do was nod and she led you in that direction, greeting people on her way as she did so. Kate carried herself with such confidence that you were mesmerized by. You had confidence, but not in that way. You could have never just walked up to a stranger like she did and introduced yourself. That was a terrifying thought to you and the way she did it without a second thought was fascinating.
Kate grabbed a cup filled with lemonade and handed it to you before taking one for herself. You took a sip then looked around the room, your eyes catching on a familiar face. The gentleman made his way over to you, a wide smile on his face as he engulfed you in a hug.
“I see you’ve met the troublemaker,” Anthony winked at you and you felt yourself blush. It was a nickname the boys had created for you since you had been anything but a troublemaker. They just always liked to tease you as if they were your own brothers.
“Oh, have I?” Kate let out a laugh as Anthony draped an arm over her shoulder. They seemed to be just as in love as Francesca had said.
“It’s what we used to call her when she was little because she’s the exact opposite of trouble.” He was laughing a little too hard and your cheeks were flushing in embarrassment. Kate nudged Anthony once she caught sight of the embarrassed look in your face.
Looking at Anthony, all of the memories you had of him came flooding back. He was always there for you when you got hurt, acting as an honorary big brother when something went wrong. You honestly missed him and hated that you had been from him and his family for so long.
Benedict stood by the entrance of the building with his mother, Violet. He honestly had no interest in being there, but he couldn’t say no to his mother. Other than Gregory, he was the only Bridgerton son who hadn’t been married and even though he had expressed no interest in it, he still wanted to keep his mother happy by attending the balls.
If he had it his way, he’d be at the studio with one of the women he had been sleeping with or working on his piece for the gallery that was supposed to happen in a few weeks. He had barely even started it and probably would have been at least halfway through it if he hadn’t agreed to come to the ball that night That was his priority at the moment, not finding a wife like his mother had so desperately wanted him to do.
He locked eyes on you talking with Kate and Anthony and figured that you must have been one of the new debutants since he hadn’t seen you before. At least, he didn’t think he had. He would have remembered a beautiful woman like you. His brother seemed to be talking you like you were old friends so he wondered just who you were.
“Why don’t you ask her to dance?” Violet leaned over to him as she noticed Benedict watching you. Had he been staring? He swore he had only just glanced.
“Mother-“ He agreed to showing up, but he never said anything about dancing. He just liked to observe. And he wanted to observe you.
“Benedict.” Her voice was filled with warning and even at his age, he was still kind of afraid to disappoint her, even though he had done that enough already. He couldn’t do it again.
“Alright,” he sighed. “I’ll dance with her.” He turned to his smiling mother then made his way towards you, putting on his signature smile that always made women fall to his feet. He absolutely loved seeing the way they would do whatever he asked as soon as he gave them a flash of his teeth. He wondered if you would do the same.
The conversation halted as Benedict stood behind you. You turned around and your eyes widened as you caught sight of the man. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You wondered what he wanted from you and began to fiddle with your necklace again, assuming that he was possibly going to ask you to dance. You were going to say no, of course. You couldn’t dance with anyone. You would just look weird and awkward and be too aware of your movements. You honestly weren’t even sure if you knew the correct steps.
“Benedict,” Anthony greeted his brother. That was Benedict? You supposed it made sense since you hadn’t seen him in eight years. He had gotten so much taller than you now, the top of your head coming to his chin. And he was attractive. Much more so than you remembered.
“Anthony, Kate,” he nodded in their direction then averted his gaze to you, a smirk kicking up at the corner of his lips. Anthony knew exactly what his brother was doing. He could see the flirty look in his eyes and was going to shut whatever was going on down as soon as possible.
He had seen to many women hurt by Benedict and he wasn’t going to let you be one of them. Anthony didn’t know you, but what he did know was that you were definitely out of his league. You were sweet and kind and Benedict was nothing but a jackass. Anthony wasn’t going to let your heart get broken by his stupid brother who never seemed to be able to keep his dick in his pants.
“And you are?” He didn’t remember you? You supposed that eight years was enough time to forget about someone, but you honestly thought he would have remembered you just like Anthony had. And you had spent much more time with Benedict when you were children so you didn’t know why the memories of your weren’t clicking in his brain.
“Benedict, this is y/n,” Anthony reminded him as if it was something that Benedict should have known, but that name was not ringing any bells whatsoever.
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss y/n,” he greeted, his tone more professional but still a little flirty. “Would you like to dance?” He held his hand out to you and you stared at it, knowing that if you didn’t, your mother would find out and give you a lecture, but if you did, all of three steps would mix together in your head and you’d fall flat on the floor and everyone would laugh at you.
You nodded and hesitantly put your hand in his, letting him lead you out onto the floor, looking back to Kate and Anthony, hoping that they would save you, but they just gave you warm smiles as you got further and further away from him.
Benedict stopped to the far left of the floor and rested a hand on your shoulder blade while the other took your hand. You turned your head to the side, looking around the room and he looked down at you, realizing that you had no idea what you were doing and decided that he was going to have to teach you how to do the dance.
He took your other hand and placed it on his shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile even though you weren’t paying attention. You were still looking around the room, nervousness obvious in your eyes. Weren’t you just a shy, little thing. He could have taught you so many things, but tonight, he’d stick with the waltz.
He leaned down so his lips were right by your ear and your breath hitched at his closeness. His hot breath on your skin as he whispered to you. No man had ever been that close to you and it was making you nervous.
“Just follow my lead, I’ve got you.” He leaned back up and watched you turn your face back to him, giving him a small nod. He smiled down at you as the dance began. You moved around the floor, Benedict taking the lead, looking down at you to make sure that you were okay as he did so. All he was focused on was you. It was as if nothing else in the room mattered and he had no idea why he was so captivated by you.
He didn’t know why you were so nervous. You were a natural when it came to the waltz. And he liked watching you move along with him, seeing your dress move back and forth, wanting to run his hands up your thighs as he spread them apart, watching you come undone as he buried his head between them, licking and sucking as you grabbed onto his hair. And he’d make sure he could see your head being thrown back, hearing the delicious moans fall from your lips.
He wanted so badly to remove your dress so slowly, hearing you beg for him because he wasn’t moving fast enough. Whining his name as he took off your under garments as slowly as possible, kissing every single inch of your body as he bent you over the nearest surface he could find, pounding into you as he told you what a good little slut you were.
You both continued to move around the room gracefully and you were avoiding his eye contact still, his hazel ones boring into you, a smirk kicking up at the corner of his lips as he watched you. Benedict knew he’d have to dance with you more than once to hopefully bring you out of his shell. You’d definitely be a different person by the time he was done with you.
The dance finished and Benedict brought you back over to Anthony and Kate, not wanting your time together to end, but knowing that he had to dance with the other debutants to please Violet. He bowed before you and you gave him a curtesy as he bid you a goodbye.
“It was a pleasure, Miss l/n,” he said once he stood back up.
“The pleasure is all mine, Mr, Bridgerton,” you smiled shyly and the man swore he was going to melt. Benedict knew that you had meant the words in the most innocent sense, but his cock, definitely didn’t. There was no hint of flirting in your tone, but he was going to pretend that there was. That the attraction wasn’t one sided.
And you had to be attracted to him, right? He knew when a woman had fancied him, but for some reason, he couldn’t get a read on you. You were going to be a tough one to crack. He’d have to spend more time with you to figure you out.
Even after he had moved on to other debutants, his mind wouldn’t leave you. He wanted to do the most filthiest things to you and knowing that you were most likely a virgin made it even more exciting. Knowing that he could have been your first sent a rush up his spine.
But he couldn’t do that to you. He just couldn’t. Considering how protective Anthony had been of you, Benedict wasn’t looking to get killed, especially not over a woman. So, after he finished the dance, he left the ball, on the hunt for someone to hook up with since anything with you was definitely off the table.
You spent practically the entire night with Anthony and Kate and for the first time, you felt like you had real friends. They both seemed interested in what you had to say and didn’t treat you like a child just because you were young. And they were respectful of your soft spoken voice, neither of them asking you to speak up or telling you that they couldn’t hear you.
You entered your bedroom with a smile on your face and got ready for bed, thinking about the new friends you had made and that you actually had a good time at the ball despite not thinking that you would. You laid down thinking that maybe, just maybe you’d actually like it there.
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
♡♡♡
Season One
Chapter One - Mr Bridgerton
Chapter Two - Empty drawing rooms
Chapter Three - Becoming acquainted
Chapter Four - Roots for friendship
Chapter Five - Diamonds
Chapter Six - Splendid
Chapter Seven - The prince
Chapter Eight - Sparkling diamond
Chapter Nine - Late night scandals
Chapter Ten - Duel at dawn
Chapter Eleven - Ruse to ruse
Chapter Twelve - Beautiful day for a wedding
Chapter Thirteen - Passionate
Chapter Fourteen - Scandals in abundance
Chapter Fifteen - Rhythm of our hearts
Chapter Sixteen - Entanglement
Chapter Seventeen - End of the season
♡♡♡
Season Two
The tag list is full! I'm sorry! I've reached the capacity!
Hopper!reader is having a hard time adjusting to normalcy after the disappearance of her father, the death of her tumultuous ex-lover, and losing her only family to California. Instead of turning to her friends, she turns to isolation and partying to cope. Best friend, Steve Harrington, isn't about to let her drown.
starlight, calling @levanswrites | 18+ mdni
after a 7.4 earthquake swallows half your hometown, you start volunteering at your old high school gym turned relief center. that's where steve harrington shows up—soft, kind, earnest, and nothing like the guy you thought you knew. you’re both carrying some heavy baggage (you're not calling yours trauma, he's not calling his heartbreak), but whatever's starting to bloom between you... you think it might just change everything.
laugh like lovers, kiss like friends @crappymixtape
you're getting married – steve’s in town for the ceremony and it dredges up old memories, ones you thought you'd forgotten, but you have to decide, will you say ‘i do’ or will your heart realize what you really want has been there all along?
untitled @luveline
can we have Steve and a gf who’s unconventional even compared to his friends? maybe she surprises him with a couples costume all finished and he’s like oh i am loved, i am very very loved
let somebody love you @/luveline
You ran out on Steve almost three years ago in the middle of a sweet fling, but now you’re back in Hawkins, and there’s a little girl on your hip that looks just like him.
untilted @lovebugism
forced proximity with Stevie in the van where him and r have to get along during a crawl mission
Please, please, please @/lovebugism
when steve struggles to tell you about his feelings, rockin' robin helps him do it through song
table for two @fluttervoid
Where you have a date, (or: the night you got stood up and steve harrington reminded you what you actually deserve
injured, patched up @saltcxrcle
steve patches you up when you get hurt by the demodogs.
steve gives you a ride to the hospital when your brother gets sick and finds out boogers are (basically) the reason you hate him so much
You missed the memo @suprclark
your best friend shows up at your house after breaking your heart a little, only to fix it a lot. turns out the boy you thought you lost is actually the boy who’s been in love with you this whole time
i know the end @andvys | 18+ mdni
You have been running from your feelings for Steve for years, followed by the fears of losing him if you let him in. But now the end of the world is on your doorsteps and the former King who had never stopped chasing you, wants nothing more than for you to stop running from him.
resonance (steve harrington x superpower! reader) masterlist
There wasn't much going for you in life.
School. Training at the lab. Top-secret, nausea-inducing missions. Homework. Typical teenager shit.
A wayward visit from an inter-dimensional stalker shakes things up and changes everything. He catapults you back in time to the 1980s and you, the top pupil of Hawkins Lab, find yourself out of your element in a town you don't recognize anymore.
my dirty little secret, who has to know? ⋮ mike wheeler drabble , part two
content: loser × popular girl trope, kissing/making out, even more kissing, neck kissing, hickies, tad bit grinding/dry-humping, cheating, scrap but fuck it cuz im ovulating, (not proofread!)
to start off, michael wheeler is a nerd.
he's the geek that attends av every wednesday—the guy who makes announcements over the intercom telling everyone to attend the newspaper club meetings—the freak who plays d&d with the other outcasts of hawkins high.
while you're the cool girl; the girl that immediately got accepted into the popular clique through pretty privilege, the one that goes to parties every weekend. you've got the jock boyfriend and the cool convertible.
and in retrospect, mike wheeler and you have entirely nothing in common. so never did you think you would end up sneaking into the janitors closet every day with him.
how this all began was something out of mike's fantasies.
one day, one very life-changing day, you and him were put together as partners for an english project. and ever since then, it's been, well...
mike tapped his foot impatiently. you're always late. he really isn't a stickler on tardiness, but the bell was going to ring in twenty-five minutes and he wasn't finished with his lab yet.
small knocks on the door stopped his vibrating foot, and mike straightened himself before creaking it open.
"hi. sorry, sorry. someone was in the bathroom and i couldn't go—" you immediately dove in and draped your arms over mike's tall figure and pin your lips against his, engulfing him in a kiss before you could even finish speaking.
he's caught by surprise and quickly puts his hands on either side of you, stumbling back onto the shelf stacked with cleaning supplies. "going fast today," mike states, but not as a complaint. not even in the slightest.
you laugh onto his lips, trying to speak in between with each burst of oxygen you could get. "yeah, well i—" you kiss him again, "—i missed you." you smile, your hands move to either side of his head, locking your fingers around his curls of thick hair. you can feel him smile against your mouth.
he's out of breath. "i—can't stay too long," mike pants, his knee setting itself against the inner of your thighs to hold you in place (& because he knows you love that). you whine, "mmmmgh, wwwwhhy?" turning your lips into a pout.
"you were extra late, and i have chemistry." his hands travel all around your back and under your shirt, fingers ghosting your bra's hook. "fuck chemistry," you sigh out. your hips ever so slightly grind against mike, mewl-ish sounds escaping past your lips.
"hey," mike pulls back for a second. your faces are bare inches from one another. you can feel his steaming breath mix with yours. mike's gaze settles on your lips, he wants more.
"what? did i do something wrong?" you tilt your head even closer, the area between your eyebrows resting on the tip of his nose.
mike shakes his head faintly and curls his lips into a smile. "never."
you both stare at each other for what feels like a millennia, neither bodies moving not even an inch. you're scared to speak; to break the silence. he's scared to do something he'll regret.
mike tilts his head slowly and connects your guys' lips again. the soft pillow of your mouth is enough to make his knees weak. your tongues intertwine themselves together and he doesn't even dare to fight.
he's wanted this for too long, and he still can't believe he has you right here. but you're not his. and how he wish he could change that.
you want to speed things up, you want to savor every moment you have with him. your arms hug his neck, heightening the kiss. mike's grip on you tightens, his lanky fingers pressing into the plush of your skin. he wants to secure you so you'll never leave.
he wishes you could stay in this moment with him for eternity.
mike's head slowly crawls down to your neck, his swollen lips dragging against your skin. you recline your head and look up at the dim light bulb that illuminated the cramped closet before closing your eyes, consuming the darkness that let you focus on only mike.
he smushes his tongue onto your nape, wetting the area before pulling on the skin harshly, leaving faint red marks. his teeth picks at your sensitive spots, making your breath hitch ever so slightly. mike desired to leave them every where, to at least prove to someone—anyone—that you and him were... something.
he watches your neck, watching the red areas turn darker. his eyes then travel up to look at your expression, seeing the desperation on your face. your perfectly carved brows scrunched together and your cheeks were the pinkest of pinks.
no one could get you like this other than mike wheeler. not even your mouth-breathing boyfriend.
| DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE. reblogs are fine and appreciated! |
1906 words | series masterlist
DISCLAIMER: in this story y/n is described as female, however it is up to you what she looks like! additionally, this is a slow burn, steve and reader do not get together right away! currently there is billy hargrove x reader as well.
after an amazing night with billy, he dropped me back off at home. i made sure my coat covered my neck, not sure what evidence of the nights events had been left there.
i walked up the steps, giddy, but was met with a screaming match when i walked in the door.
"you promised!" i heard eleven scream. "i never leave! nothing ever happens!"
"yeah, nothing happens, and you stay safe!" dad slammed his hand down on one of the shelves in el's room.
"you lie!"
"i don't lie. i protect, i feed, i teach. and all i ask of you is that you follow three simple rules. and you know what, you can't even do that!"
i tried to sneak to my room quietly hoping not to draw attention to myself and be caught in the middle of this mess. however, with this cabin being my great-grandpa's and all, there were some creaky floor boards.
their attention turned to me.
"oh. hi, guys. everything okay?" i tried to play it off cool.
el looked down.
"no, eleven decided to go on a little trip today, didn't you? she snuck out putting all of us in danger. and she got the cops called on her."
"wow, that's uh.. that's crazy." i tried to be casual, hanging my coat on the rack. i forgot about the outfit under it and the marks on my neck.
"what are you wearing? are those hickies?" my dad screamed.
"shit." my eyes widened and i ran to the bathroom mirror. dang, billy had done some serious damage.
"i thought you were going to the movies with a friend!" my dad screamed.
"uh, yeah, about that..."
"huh, i guess we're all liars then, aren't we? y/n, we will talk about this later. eleven, you're grounded. you know what that means? it means no eggos..." he walked to the fridge, throwing out the boxes of eggos that had accumulated. "and no tv for a week!" as he tried to unplug it, a force stopped him. eleven's nose was bleeding.
"alright, knock it off, let go."
she shook her head.
as the bickering went back and forth, and dad ripped the tv cable, my ears were ringing.
"you have got to understand that there are consequences to your actions."
"you are like papa!"
"really? i'm like that psychotic son of a bitch? alright, well, you wanna go back in the lab? one phone call, and i can make that happen." he explained.
"dad, stop." i told him.
"i hate you!" she shouted.
"yeah, well, i'm not so crazy about you either. why? cause you're a brat. you know what that word means? how about that be your word of the day. why don't we look it up?" he grabbed the dictionary that was sitting on the couch.
"b-r-a-t." he tossed the book to eleven so that she could find the word, but it was stopped mid air and thrown back at him.
"hey! what the hell is wrong with you?"
he ran towards her but was cut off by the couch and the bookshelf being knocked over and her slamming her door.
"you wanna go out in the world?" he screamed. "you better grow up! you both better grow up and stop lying to me! grow the hell up!"
as i sobbed at the destruction of my small family and shame i felt, eleven screamed, shattering all of the windows.
the next morning i put on a turtleneck sweater and did my hair, ready to head to nancy's to skip school with her and jonathan.
i walked out of my room and dad sat at the table drinking his coffee.
"you ready to talk?" he glanced at me.
i looked at him and sat down. he slid toast towards me. he had boarded up all of the windows.
"what... do you want to talk about?" i asked him, hoping he miraculously wanted to discuss something other than my neck.
"i think you know, y/n."
"i don't know what you want to hear, dad. i lied to your face, went out with a boy, and this happened."
"well, i know that part. who is this kid?"
"dad-"
"y/n."
i paused. "his name is billy, he just moved here. from california. his step-sister goes to the arcade all the time, i see her during my shifts. he's really nice. to me at least." i explained, taking a bite of my toast.
"and are you two..." he motioned with his hands.
"oh, ew, dad!"
"well, i need to know!"
"dad..."
"y/n, come on."
"i'm not a virgin, dad! i haven't been in a long time. i know what i'm doing, okay?" i told him.
"what do you mean by a long time?"
"i mean, that i had sex three years ago, okay? it really doesn't matter. i'm being safe, i promise. okay?"
dad just looked at me for a few minutes.
"okay. i may not agree with or support your decisions surrounding this... matter, but as long as you are being safe."
"thanks, dad." i replied. "i promise. i have to go though. don't want to be late."
"alright, well, have a good day, sweetheart."
"you too, dad. i might be a little late after school, i'm going to study with nancy. oh, and tell el i said goodbye." he nodded.
i drove to nancy's neighborhood, parking my car down the block, and walked to her cul-de-sac, where i found her and jonathan sitting in his car.
i hopped in the backseat and joined their conversation. their plan was to stay the night wherever we were going, but i told them that i couldn't... i may or may not have had another date with billy. so my personal plan was to take the bus or a taxi back into town and pick up my car.
a few hours later the three of us sat on a bench at a park. we (im)patiently waited for somebody to show up.
"it's fifteen past." nancy pointed out
"yeah, i know. let's just give him time to show up." jonathan told her.
i noticed a guy sitting across from us at a picnic table, reading his newspaper. i narrowed my eyes.
"that guy." i said, catching nancy and jonathan's attention. "he just talked to himself." i shared.
we all stared, drawing his attention to us, resulting in the three of us suspiciously looking away. it suddenly felt like no matter where we looked, somebody was watching us.
"i think we should go..." nancy stated, fear evident in her voice.
at that, we all quickly stood up, rushing back to the car. when we got there, the engine stalled, trapping us at the park,
"jonathan... what's happening?" i asked, tapping my foot on the floor nervously.
"i...i don't know."
suddenly, the guy who i had noticed before knocked on nancy's window, making us all jump out of our skin.
"trouble with your car, miss?" we could hear him say through the glass. "i could give you three a lift if you'd like."
she looked back at me and i shook my head, eyes wide. her eyes widened too, and she said my name.
i instinctively turned around, my hair whipping nancy's headrest, and saw another man, one who had been walking a dog, through the back window. there was one outside of jonathan's window too.
they were all around us.
the man knocked on her window again and asked. "you sure you don't need that ride?"
the three of us sat in hawkins lab, a place i had hoped to never return to. wishes don't seem to come true in hawkins.
the room was sterile and quiet, yet the silence was deafening. i cleared my throat.
"i've been here before." the two of them looked at me.
"yeah." i told them. "when the decoy of will's body was found, my dad came here to investigate and brought me with him. i almost got shot." i laughed humorlessly.
"you almost got shot?" nancy exclaimed. "how awful are these people?"
i smiled and gestured to the security camera. "why don't you ask them?"
nancy looked and after a moment she stood up and faced the camera.
"hey! hey, assholes! let us out of here!" she shouted.
a man then burst through the door in a doctors coat.
"oh!" he said. "not very pleasant in here, is it? sorry about that, hospitality isn't our strong suit. you know, scientists and all."
i rolled my eyes. the doctor looked at our flat expressions and looked at his watch.
"yeah, okay. you up for a little walk?" he asked us, leading us out of the room.
we didn't follow for a moment until we heard him say, "i assume you're behind me." we all then quickly followed him.
he went on a rant about scientists and wrapped it up with, "the point is, mistakes have been made, yes."
i scoffed and nancy asked, "mistakes? you killed barbara!"
"abundant mistakes," the man, who we now knew to be a dr. owens, corrected himself, "but the men involved with those mistakes, the ones responsible for what happened to your brother and for miss holland's death, they're gone. they're gone, and for better or for worse, i'm the shmuck they brought in to make things better."
"but i can't make things better without your help." this caught my attention.
"you mean without us shutting up?" i asked him.
"no, miss hopper."
"well, because that's not gonna happen unless you own up to your abundant mistakes." nancy added.
"she's tough, this one." he looked at jonathan before asking, "you been together long?"
i held back a laugh.
"we-we're not together."
dr. owens moved on fast.
"wanna see what really killed your friend?"
we followed him into a control room where he introduced us to a massive, oozing, portal thing on the wall.
"i'd call it one hell of a mistake." he said "see, the thing is, we can't really seem to erase our mistake. but, we can stop it from spreading. it's like pulling weeds. but imagine for a moment if a foreign state, let's say, the soviets, if they heard about our mistake, do you think they would even consider that a mistake?"
"so we see why i have to stop the truth from spreading, just like the weeds, don't we?"
i stared at the portal as one of the scientists lit it on fire. white particles multiplied, floating through the air, and there was a loud screeching sound that we could just barely make out through the glass.
yeah, i was with the doctor on this one. i definitely didn't want this thing spreading. however, i didn't feel the same way about the truth.
the man from earlier led us out of the lab and back to jonathan's car, which i had never been happier to see. he handed him his keys and told us to have a nice day.
we got back in the car and sped away, nancy pulling out the tape recorder to make sure it had worked. sure enough, dr. owens spiel played back to us.
they made their plans to head out of town, but i stuck with my need to go back home.
they dropped me off at my car and i wished them luck and told them to stay safe.
a/n: yayyy another chapter done, another chapter closer to y/n and steveeeeee... this chapter and the next are both on the shorter end, basically serving as filler chapters. this is because i needed y/n to not be apart of the murray storyline so that jonathan and nancy can get together, and also so that the next big events can happen in y/n's story. so because of this, there isn't a whole lot of pre-written plot that i can include in the next chapter! also since episode seven of season two was just eleven and her sister, i am going to be skipping that one!!
i am so excited for what is it come, however it sadly may take a couple of days to get through the next few chapters because i am currently taking all of my exams. i will be on vacation next week though, so plenty will get written then!!
as always, let me know of any grammatical/spelling errors or if you'd like to be added to the taglist! and of course, keep commenting what you think so far! love you all!
pairings: steve harrington x reader x jonathan (past)
summary: you and Will have been missing since last night. after you don't show up to school, a frantic search begins.
masterlist | TIT FOR TAT TAGLIST
notes: a lot of this chapter is in the 3rd person! italics indicate the past! THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT AGAIN! ALL IS APPRECIATED!!!! follows ep 2 of stranger things: The Weirdo on Maple Street.
Malik L/N was a man who let his children run loose. Your whole family lived separate lives and just happened to live in the same house. His wife, Sierra, was an attorney for the United States federal courts. She was the one who put federal criminals in prison for various reasons, such as drug trafficking and fraud. Malik L/N was a CIA agent, investigating the Russians during the height of the Cold War. The couple's jobs granted your family an income well above anyone else in the small town of Hawkins. Everyone knew who the L/Ns were with their mansion and multiple cars in their driveway.
Due to their busy jobs, Sierra and Malik weren't ones to necessarily care much for their children, you and your older brother, Jaden. They gave you both some money, and you went wild. Days went by when none of you ever saw each other.
Naturally, when you didn't come home last night, your parents didn't bat an eye, assuming you stayed over at a friend's house. Kelly Martinez was your best friend as of lately, co-captain of your volleyball team, and truly the only person you hung out with outside of school. However, both Kelly and your family knew one thing: you've always had perfect attendance to keep your grades. You would never dare miss a day.
So, when the call came to the L/N residence, you weren't at school, and your father made his way immediately to the police station. Upon his arrival, a worried Joyce Byers was also there.
"Just letting yourself in, Malik?" The Chief of Police stated, raising an eyebrow. He had his eyes focused on a few other papers. Joyce was biting her nails, on the edge of her seat. In the back of the room was Jonathan, worried as ever.
"Y/N L/N. I'm making a missing persons report, Hop," He says. The room goes silent. A pin could drop. "16 years old. Last seen heading the the Byers." his eyes scan and land on Joyce's.
"You sure? She's 16, she's quite the popular girl, no? A girl like her is probably off doing who knows what," Hopper huffs. He doesn't believe Malik, understandably so. You did seem like the girl who would just be doing her own thing right now. But Malik knows his daughter. "No, she's never missed a day of school, rain or shine, sick or healthy."
"Not even volleyball tournaments?"
"Those don't count, Hop." Malik sneers. He went into thought. You and your father recently got into an argument and never fully resolved it. Maybe you really were just rebelling? Still, missing school isn't something you'd do.
Jonathan sighs, "We were hoping you'd seen her." he begins pacing. "Since they were both together last."
"Y/N isn't one to just leave Will, either. She'd fight tooth and nail for my boy." Joyce added, She's hysterical, she was a second mother to you. Hopper sighed both out of concern and exhaustion and began writing yet another missing persons report, this time with your name. Never in his years as chief as he ever had two missing people at once, especially kids who were well known in their groups.
"I guess I'm adding Hawkins High to my list of stops for questioning. Is there anyone specific I can ask? Close friends, boyfriends, classmates..." Hopper asks, and Malik thinks for a second. "Kelly Martinez has been her other half since we moved here. If she's been seeing boys, she hasn't told me."
"Nancy Wheeler and her know each other through school and babysitting Mike, too." Jonathan chimes, and Hopper writes down a few notes as he nods. "They friends?"
"...Not exactly."
Hopper's lips form a tight line, and he nods again.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
SMACK !
The volleyball hits past two bodies, just before the boundary line. There's an uproar from a few voices on the sidelines. A brunette high-fives a few of her teammates and smiles are her teammates on the other side of the net.
One blonde girl speaks. "Kelly, where's Y/N? Haven't seen her all day."
The brunette frowns, full lips form into a pout as her dark, full eyebrows furrow toward one another. The blonde takes this as a sign to shut up, and she quickly hurries to the sidelines to grab her duffel bag.
Kelly sighs, hands on her hips. She doesn't sit still long enough to think of the fact that you aren't here. No call, nothing. Just gone. It's driving the poor girl crazy as she begins overthinking when she grabs her duffel and school bag.
The girl can't even make 10 steps into the hallway before being bombarded by Carol and Tommy. "Yo, Kelly!"
"Hi, Carol." Kelly is seething; she would rather be anywhere but with these two idiots.
"No Y/N, huh? Wonder where she went. Bet she's pretty crucial to the team to go to nationals, right?" Tommy chimes. He puts his arm around Carol as he watches the people passing by. His eyes widen, and he smiles. "Is it true she ran off with Jonathan right before she went missing?"
Kelly turns her head, and Jonathan putting up missing flyers for Will. She cocks an eyebrow and makes a face at the couple, seriously wondering why they're as popular as they are. "I'm not sure."
"She was over at my place," a voice says, approaching the group. A brunette emerged through Tommy and Carol; it was Nancy. "She was babysitting the boys last night."
"That's not helping your case, Nancy Drew. Makes me wonder if you did something," Kelly snickers, but she knows fully Nancy would never do such a thing. Nancy visibly deflates at the comment, just before Steve comes up behind and wraps an arm around her.
Steve plants a small peck on Nancy's cheek before drawing his attention to Kelly. "Any news on Y/N? Heard Mr. L/N made a missing report."
"He did?" This was news to Kelly. She knew you and your father had issues, so the fact that he made a report this early was a bit out of the blue for him.
"Dunno, that's just what I heard," Steve comments.
"From who?"
"Jonathan."
Carol cackles. "You seriously listened to that moron?" Tommy joins in on mocking him. "Seriously, he's probably the one who killed both of them."
For once, Steve looked oddly concerned when he eyed Kelly. He raised an eyebrow as he looked around, perhaps you were around the corner playing a prank on the town of Hawkins.
Kelly looked over her shoulder again at Jonathan. Sweet, quiet Jonathan. He was simply an introvert compared to Steve and his group. You and Jonathan had known each other since you moved to Hawkins your freshman year. You were one of the few extroverted, popular kids who had the heart to treat Jonathan like a human rather than some loner. You saw him for who he was: an animal lover, mixtape enthusiast, and photographer. You two often had late nights together after watching Will, where you would just listen to his mixtapes in a comfortable silence, messing with Jonathan's camera and taking pictures.
Kelly's eyes looked at the missing poster; the face on the left was Will's, the other was yours. She and Jonathan shared a small, knowing look at one another, grieving for their respective friend.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 1982.
"How about..." you flash a pose, a damsel in distress. "Hurry, Jonathan, my leg is cramping!" Jonathan quickly gets into position and snaps the. camera, a flash temporarily blinding you. As quickly as the flash hits you, you're on his bed next to him, waiting for the Polaroid to eject.
Tonight marked the third night you two spent together. Joyce was working late tonight, and Will was fast asleep.
You grabbed the Polaroid and shook it, seeing the image slowly come to life. You couldn't help but smile and admire yourself, considering you were in pajamas with hair rollers. Faint music played in the background, a mixtape that you and Jonathan both made.
How you ended up here is a bit...odd. Jonathan is a boy who always keeps to himself, never speaking unless spoken to, and even then, he mostly just listens. You two had the same chemistry class, and you were desperately struggling. Instead of simply struggling, you swallowed your pride and asked for help, who happened to sit next to you. The more sessions you had with Jonathan, the more you realized that he was quite an interesting person behind closed doors.
"It's nice, I like it." You say, looking around Jonathan's room as if you hadn't already seen everything there's to see. Jonathan stays quiet, but you know he acknowledged you. "You should really try and get clients to grow your portfolio."
Jonathan smiled. "How?"
"Asking kids around at school, duh." You roll your eyes and hop off of his bed. "I can ask for you?"
"No, it's fine, really."
"What? Why not? You know, you could, like, get some sexy photos of girls. They're into this kinda stuff." You start rummaging through some of the albums of photos he already has. Most are of nature, a good chunk of his mother, Mrs. Byers, and Will, the boy you've begun to babysit after school on weekdays when Jonathan and Mrs. Byers work. "Just sayin'."
Jonathan rolls his eyes at your comment. "Is that all you care about?"
"No, but I'm sure it's all that you think about. It's what all teenage boys think." Your eyes land on an odd photo. It's dark and also has a dark figure. "What's this?"
"Huh?" Jonathan gets up and comes up next to you. "I don't remember taking that..." he grabs the photo from your hand and examines it closely. He flips it, and there's no label. Jonathan always labels his Polaroids. How odd.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ . . . ?
The air is cold. The floor is sticky. You feel wet. You're shivering, you gave your jacket to Will, and had nothing but a thin long-sleeve shirt between you and the fall air. Will was quietly asleep, still shivering. You laid a hand on his arm as you kept a close eye on your surroundings, trying to make out just where you were. The forest you were in was exactly like the one near the Byers residence, just with a red hue.
Your mind begins running as you get up and peek outside of Castle Byers. Everything is exactly the same, just dark. You've been here for only God knows how long, and it feels like an eternity. Your eyes shift back on Will; he's cold and wet. If you don't get him somewhere warmer, he might get sick. If everything truly is the same here, why not try to give a call?
You quickly grab your backpack and pull out your English notebook and a pen. You begin scribbling: 'WILL, WENT OUT TO FIND HELP. DON'T FOLLOW. STAY HERE! BE BACK SOON.' You tucked the note into his jacket to ensure he would find it when he woke up and grabbed a small flashlight that was lying idly in Castle Byers.
The walk feels endless. There are loud cracks of lightning that make you jump just about every time, frantically looking around for those weird creatures that drag you and Will down here. So far, so good. You slowly open the door to the Byers' residence before hurrying to the home phone. You can barely feel or move your fingers, both out of fear and coldness, as you slowly spin the dial on the phone to call Joyce. There's a slow dial tone, you shut your eyes, hoping that someone picks up this time.
"...Hello!? Will, baby!? Where are you!?"
Oh my god. Your hands grip the phone tighter than ever. "Mrs. Byers!? Mrs. Byers! Can you hear me!? It's Y/N!" You hold the phone even closer to your ear as the voice slowly drifts to static and makes a POP! "...Mrs Byers? Jonathan?"Shit. You can use the house for a second phone, which you may recall was always in Jonathan's room.
You repeat the same as before, shakily dialing the phone number and waiting for the infamous ring. It only has to ring once before this time, and Jonathan picks up. "Hello!? Y/N, was that you!? Where's Will!? Where are you guys--"
POP!
The phone bursts again. You begin to visualize a house that's closest to the Byers. That's it, it's Kelly's. You sprint before your mind can even make a decision through the forest and onto the road, your car still off on the shoulder, lights flickering. You stop, feeling your pockets for your keys, the familiar jangle heard as you grab them and run to your trunk. There's the baseball bat that's been sitting in your trunk for ages now, after you picked up your brother from practice and he seemingly forgot about.
Jonathan and Joyce begin seeing their lights flicker across their house, and out the door, the headlights of their cars begin flickering. Hopper raised an eyebrow.
There's a loud slam as you shut the trunk and begin running towards Kelly's house. Your hand wraps around the doorknob, locked. You begin pounding against the door before huffing and swinging your bat. After a few short tries, the door is broken just enough for you to enter.
Kelly whipped her head, noticing her front porch light flickering. She got up and opened the door; perhaps the pizza she ordered was here. Nothing.
The door slowly opens, and you run to the home phone.
The phone rings behind her. Maybe it's the pizza guy telling her he would be late. That's alright, the pizza delivery boy is quite cute, anyway. She grabbed the phone.
"Kelly!? It's Y/N I need your help--"
"Huh!? Who is this!? Where's my damn pizza--"
POP!
This isn't a very fun game. You groan and start thinking again, leaning against the wall. Kelly lived in the same neighborhood as...
...Steve. Wonderful. Like he would help you.
You need help, though. To give the town a sign that you and Will are very much alive. You begin jogging down the road, your lungs and throat hurting from running the most you have in a while.
Kelly looked at her phone in confusion. Her lights began flickering again, this time moving out the door. She slowly followed them, noticing the flickering moving down the street and making a turn to the boy next door, Steve Harrington. She was too hungry to deal with this.
You stand in front of the Harrington residence. The luxurious house makes you seethe with jealousy. His pool was bigger than yours and was heated, something you didn't have. You begin wondering how good that house party he threw was. The pool was empty, though. The gate that led into the backyard was also open, and you let yourself in. Surely Steve had multiple phones, so you could make a clear message for him.
There's a squeal to your left, a feminine one at that. Your head whips, seeing a young woman being dragged, she's gripping onto the handrails of the pool, knuckles turning white.
"Barbra?" you mutter, confused. You didn't know Barbra well; you two shared a few classes together, but that was about it. You didn't mind her too much; you were only not a fan because she's best friends with Nancy. Your eyes move from her knuckles up to what exactly is dragging her, the very thing that also dragged you and Will to this hellhole.
Your heart sinks in your chest, eyes widening. You look at Barbra, then at the creature. Half of you want to save the girl, and the other screams to run away. If you just get your message through, maybe it could save all three of you. You begin slowly running away and moving the sliding door to go to the first home phone, looking at the yellow phone book to find the Harringtons' home phone.
The loud ring of the phone startles both Steve and Nancy out of their makeout session. Steve sighed in frustration but quickly recomposed himself to continue. After the second and third ring, Nancy smiled and backed away from Steve. "You should answer. What if it's your parents?"
"So?"
"Maybe they're checking in on you." Nancy continues, and Steve ponders for a minute before grabbing the phone, sighing a half-assed hello.
"Steve! It's Y/N," you begin yelling, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes the phone doesn't pop again. There's a crackle.
"What?"
"Look, Steve, I need you to tell Hopper that--"
POP!
You run to grab another phone and repeat the numbers. A confused Steve picks up. "You need to tell Hopper that Will and I are alive!"
"Alive? Where the hell are you two?" Steve covers his other ear to try and listen better through all the static. "The whole town is looking for you guys." Nancy comes into the room, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion about who he's talking to.
"I-- I don't know where we are, but--"
"Is this some kind of sick joke?" Steve sneers. He hangs up.
Your eyes fall on another phone. This is your last chance.
The phone rings from a different room. A frustrated Steve picks up. "Look, Y/N, if this is your way of getting back at me, you win; I don't care anymore. You've had your fun, just stop this sick joke."
"STEVE! This isn't a damn joke, you dimwit! God, you're so insufferable! Can you please tell Hop that we're alive and to inspect the shed at the Byers!?" you yell, your face is hot with frustration.
"What? No. Just come out of hiding, Y/N. You win, the whole town loves you. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Is he for real? Your grip tightens. "I'm not joking, plea--"
POP!
Steve has his eyebrows furrowed, and his cheeks are flushed. He hates this game he's playing with you, competing for the top spot for popularity. He feels like he's been humiliated and humbled, realizing just how many people miss and are looking for you. He slams the phone back into the receiver.
You yell in frustration. Why would the moron ever listen in the first place? There's no relying on the guy with hair bigger than his own brain. You throw the phone across the room, brushing your hands past your face and into your hair, confused about where to continue from here.
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