#but anyway. steve has moved the fuck on and if he hasn't he should it's been like 2 years
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the anger and hatred i feel for the "robin wouldn't date nancy cause of steve" rhetoric is literally unmatched by any other force on planet earth
#I will murder each and every one of you with a chainsaw this isn't even about shipping this is about the way you guys talk about shit#I will fucking have your head I will grow a garden of violets and lavender and use your mashed up bones as fertilizer#I will drown you in a pool of your own blood#I will carpet bomb your house I will visit a rage upon you so horrendous it will make the rapture look like a nice family vacation#I want you people to eat shit#<-that. is all copypasted from discord bitching#but anyway. steve has moved the fuck on and if he hasn't he should it's been like 2 years#and while there's obviously a statute of limitations on dating friend's exes st*ncy ending has exceeded that#now we're at the point where it would only matter if it was a shitty ex which nancy is NOT.#“she broke steve's heart🥺” this literally ain't about him idc quit making robin's dating life about steve#also you guys just don't get lesbians if anyone is gonna date a friend's ex it IS a lesbian#you literally don't have to like ronance but I am so tired of people talking about it like this situation would be wrong somehow#they're literally already friends dating isn't even that much of a jump#also you guys have no sense of fun I like messy shit you could make that messy if you wanted#stranger things#ronance#anyway. tis the misogyny hydra again I think
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Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU
Part One
Part Two
PART THREE
"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."
"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"
"Yeah, like a series."
"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"
"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"
"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."
Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.
"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"
"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"
"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.
Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"
"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."
Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.
Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'
And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.
There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.
"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."
Steve's heart fucking melts.
Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.
"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"
"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."
"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"
"Yeah. Still not my thing-"
"Oh."
"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."
"...yeah?"
"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."
"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"
"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."
"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.
"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."
"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.
"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."
"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."
"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."
"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."
And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.
@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao
@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch
#eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington#steddie#my fic writing#fan fic stuff#fic wip#ficlet#rock star eddie munson#baker steve harrington#dungeons and dragons
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DC x Marvel Fic Recs
@jas-per11 @letthedeadghostrest
Hello! I saw your post, and I've been meaning to rec some DC x Marvel fics anyways, so I'll do that here. I don't know what you've read, so I'll start with
Peter Parker / DC Series:
The Dark Matter Multiverse Series by @mysterycyclone
Dark Matter is the blueprint for most Peter Parker / DC fics, and it's also fucking fantastic. If you're reading a crossover and don't understand why, without explanation, Peter is talking to ghosts? Why he by default ends up living in a firehouse? Read Dark Matter.
Spider and Bat Friends Series by @emmacortana
So far, 12 well written and hilarious works from my all-time favorite author, Miss emmacortana. This, coming from someone with over 1,500 bookmarks. She's that good.
Bitsy and The Bats Series Series by @wibbwoby
Haven't read this one in a while, so I don't have much to say, but Rated T for Traumatized is an absolute classic.
Pizzaverse Series by Irisen
A heavier read, wherein Peter tries to keep his job, make rent, and has a lot of unfortunate run-ins with Gotham's rogues.
Peter & The BatBoys (Doctor AU) Series by @thepoppypress
Peter is the Wayne family's doctor. He has a... chaotic time. I've only read Part 1, but I am still including this here because it's a series.
Peter Parker needs a hug (From the BatFamily) Series by @true-blue-fool
Shorter fics about Peter bonding with the Batfamily. Part 3 is especially cute.
Spider and Bats Series by @superklutzkent
Peter Parker whump, featuring the Batfam. All of the whump.
Let's take a break and look at some DC x Marvel fics that DON'T feature Peter:
Steve Rogers: Man out of Time and Place Series by RavenclawAngel
After Civil War, Steve gets exiled to DCs earth and builds a new team.
from the nucleus flight Series by @blackkatmagic
Khonshu whisks (Comic) Moon Knight away to DC. Very well written and passionate. If it's not your thing, don't let the Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector tag dissuade you from reading; since it's unfinished, the ship hasn't happened yet, and it's too good of a fic to miss out on.
The Devil's in Gotham (Remastered) by @prince-link13
Matt Murdock moves to Gotham and befriends Jason Todd, his neighbor. Bruce Wayne/Matt Murdock
Marvel/DC Crossovers Series by @bamboozled-and-alone
What it says on the tin. My favorite, part 2, is Matt Murdock taking care of Damian Wayne.
Echolocation Series by Firecat23
Matt Murdock and the bats; though, part 6 does have Team Red, meaning Peter.
Back to our regularly scheduled programming:
Peter Parker slash fics:
Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker
Along Came a Spider Series by @rags-n-bones
Quiet Respite by @faeriekit
I'm not too far in this one yet, but it's Faeriekit, so it's bound to be good.
Peter Parker/Tim Drake, affectionately called redspider
a shining spider web by Selador
Needling by LaughingFreak
How dimension travel can lead to love. Series by Psychic_Queen05
My current Favorite Ongoing Peter Parker / DC Crossovers:
The Ones Burnt by This_is_lovin
After the events of No Way Home, Dr. Strange's magic sends Peter to Gotham. He wakes up in another boy's body, and has to deal with the consequences. Part one just ended with a bang, you all should be there for part two, it's gonna be awesome.
Arachnomaly by @songue85
The (Comic) Amazing Spider-Man, being neighborly in Gotham. Plus some sick art from the author.
time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN
Two difficult years after No Way Home, Peter ends up in Gotham, but with a whole lot of introspection. One chapter left; you better be there.
All of the rest, that didn't fit in the prior categories:
Unforeseen Consequences by @mysterycyclone
Gotta Get to Rock Bottom! by @emmacortana
Read the initial notes first.
Set Naked on Your Kingdom by sassydandelion
Peter's Gotham Debut by BlankGeode, Leeavy
This Was Home by @emmacortana
The Peter Parker Theory by nicfics
and even though we are strange and exquisitely scarred by Wingfeather6913
What happens in New York by @violent138
A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba
Ignorance is Death by No_idea_what_Im_doing_lmaooo
One Dead Spider by Miellonek
If you do check out any of these fics, always leave a comment. Authors love those, it’s like catnip to them.
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Part 5 - Catfish Steddie
You can also read it on AO3!
Eddie isn’t sure how many doubles he pulled in the past week, but he’s not too interested in counting, anyway. He just needs to keep himself busy. Just busy enough.
He’s also trying to stay out of the house as much as he can because he can’t seem to find it in him to face Gareth. Not right now.
Not when Gareth was fucking right.
He didn’t say it to be mean, Edie knows it, but in all the time they’ve known each other, nerdy, weird Eddie was never the one to get the attention of guys built like a Greek god and Gareth had been wary of it from the beginning.
Eddie couldn’t even get himself to tell him about the catfish because, in the end, he managed to get a date with Steve, and what Gareth didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?
But the joke’s on Eddie because he’s the one who ended up hurt.
So yeah, maybe he’s been doing that avoidance thing that annoyed Gareth ever since middle school when Eddie would pretend to not be interested in playing with Max Steel anymore just because he had broken Gareth’s favorite figure and couldn’t find a way to tell him.
Eddie can be a real piece of work sometimes and he knows that all too well. Gareth knows it too and it is beyond Eddie to understand why does he still put up with his shit after so many years, but after some nasty fights where Gareth had to yell at Eddie to believe he fucking likes him and is definitely sticking around and that Eddie needs to drop that shitty way of acting, Eddie prefers not to say anything.
He’s also aware Gareth can tell something is up and that he’s on borrowed time but that’s for future Eddie to worry about.
The good thing is that the bar keeps him busy. He's always making a drink or another, cleaning something up and when there are no clients, Eddie can just let the music take over. Let his brain swim in the blissfulness of loud, angry music.
"Can I get a vodka soda?" Eddie is nodding before he even looks at the person, his body moving with the familiarity of the bar work.
He grabs the vodka with one hand and twists it around just to show off. His other hand is already filling a glass with ice cubes. Then it's alcohol, measured to be sure, soda, and a half lime wedge at the rim of the glass.
It's as easy as breathing and it feels good to do something that doesn't involve thinking.
"Here you go," he slides the glass in front of his customer and it's the first time he looks at her. She has short, brown hair and is looking straight at Eddie, not moving to get her drink.
"Thanks, Eddie."
He frowns for a second. Doesn't remember telling her his name. Doesn't remember seeing her before, but at the same time, her face looks familiar.
"Did you need anything else?"
Maybe she asked for another drink and Eddie didn't hear. His mind isn't the most reliable lately, hence why he can't quite place where he knows her from. Maybe she's a regular at the bar and Eddie has just forgotten about it?
"When's your break?" she asks and oh. Oh, no. Can't she tell Eddie would prefer to suck face with any one of the other patrons that aren't a woman?
"Sorry. I don't, uh, mess around with paying customers," he says even though he followed a few cute boys out through the back door for sloppy hand-jobs and messy kisses.
Her frown deepens and Eddie thinks maybe he offended her. He tried letting her down easy but maybe-
"Uh, first of all, gross. Second of all, I just want to talk. Please."
Something isn't adding up. "Do I know you?"
She offers her hand as if she's in an indie movie and she's the edgy main character. Eddie doesn't take it but it doesn't seem to bother her.
"I thought you knew. I'm Robin Buckley. Steve's roommate."
Oh, fuck.
x
Eddie feels like he needs a cigarette even though he hasn't smoked in ages. He tends to stay with just weed for most of the time, but this situation right now is so fucked up it calls for one.
He wonders if he should tell her he's going to 7/11 to get one but he realizes he's just stalling. He doesn't particularly want to hear what she has to say but he couldn't find it in himself to say no.
Steve tried calling a few times but he gave up once it was clear Eddie wasn't picking up the phone. He wonders if Steve sent her.
"I have 15 minutes and I was really counting on a nap during my break so make this quick," his voice comes out harsher than usual and Eddie's not mad about it. Maybe if he can put on a hard front she and Steve will leave him alone.
Eddie's brain has been trying to trick him into believing Steve really didn't have anything to do with the catfish thing, but it just doesn't add up. He spent way too many nights awake thinking about Steve laughing at his expense, at how dumb he was for falling for the thing not once but twice.
He just wants to move on, forget all about Steve and about how stupid he was to fall for his game.
"You're bitchier than I remember," she shakes her head as if she can't believe it and Eddie frowns again. He really doesn't remember her. "Guess you're just not that bitchy when it comes to pretty boys, huh."
It takes a second for Eddie's brain to get the message but then…
"You."
She nods and even though she sounds playful as if all of this is nothing more than a joke her face is pinched up.
"Guilty. Sorry about that, by the way."
Now Eddie is sure Steve sent her and he really doesn't want to hear whatever excuse he has for this. He doesn't even understand what's their goal here. Do they want Eddie to forgive them just so they can feel better about themselves?
"Tell Steve I don't need any apologies. You both can just forget it and leave me alone."
He hopes he doesn't sound too pathetic because he sure feels like it. But Robin doesn't move, she just blinks at him.
"Steve doesn't know I'm here."
Eddie huffs out a breath. He's getting annoyed at this conversation really fast.
"Will you just say what it is that you want to say and leave me alone, then? I really need a nap."
"Steve doesn't know I'm here and he didn't know I was, uh, using his face to-"
"Catfish people."
"Is it considered catfishing if I had no intention of dating anyone?"
Eddie frowns. What the fuck is wrong with this girl?
"Yes."
She closes her eyes and presses her hands to her face. "Shit. I'm fucking this up even more, aren't I? I'm not good at this."
Eddie is honestly so fucking done with her. He's confused and honestly a little angry at this person he doesn't know but thought it was ok to mess with his life for apparently no good reason.
"Well, I'm gonna go."
Eddie pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and is walking back to the bar when she calls for him.
"Wait. Please. I'm sorry… I have this tendency to joke around whenever I'm feeling bad or uncomfortable. It's just a shitty defense mechanism that I kind of can't control."
He honestly wants to tell her to fuck off but at the same time… He gets it. He is the same, after all, and Gareth would probably call him out on his bullshit if he ever complained about it. He can hear what she has to say, at least.
"Ok. Go on, but I desperately need a Slurpee and you're buying."
Slurpees beat cigarettes every day of the week, no doubt.
x
Robin's story was… Kind of crazy if Eddie was being honest. He was still confused about some things because how the hell did her professor support that idea?
"I knew it was a crazy thing I was doing. I thought it would be harmless but once I realized it wasn't it was a little too late to back down and he was all over my case."
Eddie clicks his tongue. "You should report him, you know."
She looks completely terrified. "I thought about it but it's probably going to spill all over me."
Eddie shrugged. "Maybe you deserve it."
Robin worried her lower lip in between her teeth. "Maybe I do."
"I'm not saying that to be an asshole, it's just the way things are. When I fuck up at work I have to deal with the consequences and it fucking sucks so maybe you just need to deal with yours. It's not going to be the end of the world."
Robin sighs loudly. She's clutching her blue Slurpee as if her life depends on it and Eddie wants to warn her that it's going to melt. They are both sitting on a bench outside the store and Eddie is probably already running late to get back to his shift but he thinks he needs to be here right now.
Robin's explanation was not what he was expecting. She swore Steve had absolutely nothing to do with that and proceeded to tell him Steve wasn't even speaking to her anymore.
He still can't wrap his head around the whys. Robin doesn't seem like a psychopath so it makes no sense that she would do something like this. It's an asshole move, especially given she and Steve weren't even friends. But Eddie had been an asshole before. He has fucked up with people he loves and he doesn't think that makes him a bad person.
He doesn't think it makes Robin a bad person. She at least looks really ashamed.
"Are you going to throw that Slurpee at me?" Robin asks when the silence gets too long. Eddie looks at her and she's joking. Or at least he thinks she is.
"Would it make you feel better if I did?"
"Honestly? Maybe. I can deal with screaming and fighting and saying dumb shit to each other. It's harder when all he gives me is silence and blank stares. It's like I'm not even there anymore."
Yeah, Eddie has been there. It fucking sucks.
"Sorry," she says. "I didn't come here to make you feel bad for me. I know I fucked up and you have no obligation in forgiving me but I thought you should know what happened. Steve…"
Eddie has no idea if he can afford thinking about Steve right now. He misses the hell out of him and if he's being honest he misses Robin, too.
"I know. He didn't know about any of that but I think maybe… Maybe he won't want to hear from me after I shut him out, you know? Maybe he'll be better off forgetting this whole thing."
Robin finally drinks her Slurpee. It's probably all water now, Eddie thinks. She looks at him and there's a glint in her eyes.
"I think I've never seen him that happy. When he was talking to you, I mean. He was always glued to his phone, a dumb smile on his face. It was kind of adorable, if you like cute puppies."
Eddie did have a soft spot for puppies.
"It doesn't matter anyway. Like I said, I don't think he will want to hear from me. I think I offended him, too."
"But would you want to? Talk to him again?"
He thinks for a second but he nods before his brain even registers the question. There's this ache in his chest that tells him he's probably going to miss Steve forever if he never talk to him again.
"Ok, good. Because I might have a plan."
Previous | Next
#steve harrington#Eddie Munson#Coffee Shop AU#AU#Alternate Universe#Stranger Things#Fanfic#Stranger Things fanfic#Steddie#Steddie Fanfic#Catfish AU#Steddie ficlet
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Ooo I'm a different anon but could u do a part 2 for the vampire oje. Doesn't have to be smutty. Just love their interactions
Bite me
pairing: vampire!bucky x innocent!reader
warnings: blood / bj / sucking blood / face fucking
a/n: sorry it took so long hope you like it
18+ ONLY
minors do not interact
strawberry juice (part 1)
________________________________________
Bucky was surprised how quickly you've accepted that you'll be his for the time being, he didn't even have to hypnotise you.
"My new home? Why? "
"Oh my darling you're just so precious, you see I need you to survive and you want to help me right?"
you looked confused so Bucky continued.
"So as you can tell already I'm a vampire doll, and I need blood to survive and you just happen to have the tastiest blood that keeps me fed for a long time. We can do this the easy way or the hard way the choice is yours."
You sat there on the bed trying to put your brain to work and figure out what to do but your brain just wouldn't cooperate. It's like there was fog clouding it.
"Are you going to hurt me?"
Bucky had smiled flashing his fangs at you which made you avert your gaze.
"Depends."
"On what?"
"If you're a good girl or not."
And so far you've been so good and Bucky was thriving, he'd never been so well fed he didn't even have to slumber to get energy.
Steve had been extremely kind and helpful to you, he didn't treat you like a prisoner.
As of recently you've started going on walks with both Bucky and Steve, never alone though.
"But I won't run away." you tried to argue and you really hadn't planned on going anywhere, you were well fed Steve had cooked well balanced meals every day, you had a room and everything at your disposal.
You even wanted to help around the house but Steve wouldn't let you it was his job and his job only.
It wasn't that bad at all.
Paid food, housing and you didn't even have to work except when Bucky was taking the blood from you but that wasn't even that bad since Steve was taking little amounts of blood putting it in blood bags for Bucky, like donating blood but to a vampire.
All in all not bad.
However your sleep schedule was messed up.
Most of the times you didn't know if it was day or night because of the blinds and dark curtains covering all of the windows most of the time.
It has been around 2 months since you've started living with them and you still didn't understand what made your blood special, Bucky wouldn't tell you.
"Good morning doll, when will you start wearing pants around the house, you're tempting anyways."
Since the first night Bucky hadn't touched you like he did the first night. Bucky was sure if he did something like that again he wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking you.
You turned quickly almost dropping your midnight snack on the floor.
"I was just-"
"No need to explain yourself doll, just heard you thought I should keep you company, maybe even get a breakfast while I'm at it."
For some reason, your legs shiver and the need to close your thighs overwhelmed you so you just do that. Since you'd "moved in" he'd kept a distance and you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt you. You missed talking to him, he didn't even tell you about the books he'd read.
"You never keep me company you're just hungry."
Bucky was taken aback by your words. You're his sweet girl you've never talked like that to him. But maybe you're right he hasn't been keeping you company he avoids you like the plague, it's been weeks since he drank from you physically.
If he was being honest he liked you way more than he'd like to admit. Yes your blood was good but he started feeling guilty.
"Do you want my company, pretty girl?" He'd come close to you, and you sucked in a breath, Bucky had taken the bowl from your hands.
He caressed you cheek softly, his finger barely touching you, but making your body temperature rise nonetheless.
"Why don't you look at me huh?" Bucky lifts your chin and your eyes meet his, oh and they are so pretty and your pretty pink lips that would look even better around his cock.
"Please." you don't even know what you're begging for, his attention, his touch?
"Please, what darling? Use your words pretty girl."
"Pay attention to me. You've been ignoring me I don't like being ignored. I wore so many pretty clothes and you won't notice me."
His pretty girl is an attention whore.
"Oh don't you worry, I noticed you, I heard your little whimpers when you tried to take care of the ache between your legs and you just couldn't. The little shorts and dresses you've been wearing were the only thing I paid attention to."
As if the weight has been lifted off your shoulders you smiled exhaling, blood was what Bucky lived off, but you lived for attention.
"Really? Why didn't you talk to me then! You didn't even tell me if you liked the book you were reading."
Bucky chuckled, damn you were adorable.
"Well I'll tell you if you do something for me."
You nodded eagerly.
"You don't even know what I want you to do."
"But I want to know."
"Have you ever heard of "curiosity killed the cat?""
"Pff that's not real. Tell me."
He'd taken your hand and let you to his bedroom , he didn't need Steve coming in and ruining the fun.
"Where's your bed? Do you not have a bed?"
Bucky laughs, it's been a while since he laughed so much.
"I don't need a bed."
His bedroom was more like a formal lounge room the long couch a fireplace and a lounge chair and of course a coffin standing against the wall. Bucky let's you scan the room before talking again.
"Okay that's enough looking come here." you obey instantly.
Bucky stands between the fire place and the couch in the middle of the room and picks up a pillow behind him, throwing it down on the carpet in front of him. Your eyes follow him.
"Go on." he points to the pillow and you just stand not sure what you should do. Seeing you need guidance Bucky grabs the back of your head and lowers you to your knees. He didn't use any force.
"Wil you tell me now?" your doe eyes look up at him innocently.
"Nope, we haven't even started, doll."
"But-"
You are cut off by Bucky pushing your face into his clothed buldge. He's been wanting you like this for a while and who says dreams don't come true.
"See what you do to me? Need you to take care of this before I tell you about the books I've read."
"But I don't know how." you want to do whatever he needs you to but you've never done anything like that before.
"Don't worry precious I'll help you, why don't you help me take these off first." Bucky takes your hands and leads you to the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull it down and Bucky instantly feels better, his hard on is still trapped in his underwear but much better with one layer taken off.
"Good girl." you sit not knowing what to do next so you take the waistband of his underwear releasing his painfully hard cock.
You forget to breathe, and don't know where to look and right as you were about to turn your head Bucky holds it in place.
"You need to see what you've done pretty." With one hand in your hair and the other on his length gathering the precum.
"Open up" and you do, he slips two fingers into your mouth loving the way you look tasting him.
"Give me your hands put them here." Bucky places your hands at the base of his cock, your hands are warm and soft and he thinks he's about to cum with just one touch.
"That's it." he praises you when you start moving your hands, your movements are a bit sloppy but enjoyable.
He groans when you squeeze him a bit harder.
"Sorry!" you think you've hurt him so you stop.
"Oh don't you dare stop now." Bucky says looking down at you, and what a sight to see. Your little hands hugging his thickness, he needs your mouth immediately.
"Open up for me." Bucky says, taking his cock and slapping it on your mouth.
"More." he says sternly and you open as wide as you can.
"There you go." Bucky smiles when you close around him, he's only half way in but it's already too big for you. He starts using your mouth, his thrusts are gentle not pushing you further into him. Your hands are on his thighs holding on but not for long.
"What you can't fit in you hold in your hands understand?" you nodd and immediately take the rest of his length, you use one hand to pump him and the other gets a hold of his balls. Bucky moans the moment he feels your hands on his balls playing with them.
"Doing so good pretty girl" he groans and feels his self control slipping, he needs you to take all of him. Bucky couldn't take his eyes off of you tears rolling down your red face. You suddenly pull away panting.
"Can't breathe." Bucky chuckles and brings you to his cock again.
"Breathe through your nose honey." Once you've gotten used to it Buckys thrusts became more frantic and unforgiving. He didn't stop when hit the back of your throat and you gagged saliva falling down your neck right between your breasts.
"Fuck me." Bucky breathes out, and with every thurst he groans and moans absolutely using your throat for his pleasure. Eyes rolling to the back of his head when your throat contracts squeezing him just right.
"So good, right there." you're holding tightly onto his thighs your nails digging into them which just sends Bucky into euphoria.
"Don't you dare spit out." Bucky says through gripped teeth just seconds before he finishes into your mouth sending cum down your throat. He rides out his orgasm his cock finally softening as he shoots the last drop of his cum.
Bucky pulls out and shuts your mouth closed like you're a dog.
"Swallow." not knowing what else to do you swallow the salty substance.
"Such a good girl for me." he says when you open your mouth to show him that you've swallowed every last drop. Some of it managed to escape and dripped down on your shirt but that's okay.
"Can you tell me now?" you manage to say despite it hurting of your throat.
"Of course darling. Just clean me up first and I'll tell you everything."
___________________________________________
[THE END]
please I know this was bad smut but I'm trying! I'm not used to writing it and I hope I did a decent job!
I would appreciate tips or constructive criticism what I could do better <3
likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#vampire!bucky x innocent!reader#vampire!bucky#vampire!bucky x reader#bucky imagine#bucky masterlist#sebastian stan characters#bluehourbuckyask#bucky smut
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slow down (you're moving way too fast)
prompt: sweat (kinktober) || "slow down" by ozzy osbourne
tags: beach volleyball leading to car sex, my final ode to summer, rated e (18+)
notes: again, sort of a loose interpretation of today's @eddiemonth prompt but i did listen to "slow down" about a thousand times while i was writing this, so. enjoy!
—
He watches Steve catch the ball and pitch it toward the net, or – pitching probably isn’t the right word, whatever, who fucking cares, but he whacks it in the general direction of the volleyball net, and his arms flex and his back ripples as he does it, and Eddie looks from side to side to see if anyone else is fucking seeing this ?!
But everyone else looks relatively normal and – yeah. Okay. Fair enough.
Steve’s eyes find him on the sidelines, and his face is flushed and sweaty, smiling wide as he gives Eddie a little wave, and Eddie laughs to himself as he waves back, a little wiggle of his fingers and a lean forward in his beach chair, and this… Steve, sports Steve, waving at him from the court before slapping some other jocky dude on the back and running back into the game.
If sixteen year old Eddie could see himself now.
“You know he’s not going to give you his letterman jacket or whatever, right?” Robin asks from his left hand side as she flips a page in her book. “It would clash with your whole… thing, anyway, even if he did.”
He looks over at her long enough to make sure she sees him roll his eyes over top of his sunglasses, then focuses back on the game, which is moving forward with frankly incomprehensible rules that everyone else seems to understand, but honestly, he has no idea how.
“It would look cool with my whole thing,” he says absently. “You just don’t like it when I enjoy things.”
“That’s not true,” she says. “I like it when you’re enjoying things that aren’t my best friend’s ass in his tiny, tiny volleyball shorts.”
The shorts really are something, though: neon blue and hot pink and skin, skin, skin, and – Eddie laughs, shooting her another sideways look. She’s technically ignoring him, but he can tell that she’s smiling behind the cover of whatever it is that she’s pretending to read under their shared beach umbrella. She’s wearing a bikini of her own with a giant floppy hat and one of Steve’s button up dress shirts, and she hasn't so much as moved from her chair since they planted their things in the sand.
“Aren’t you like… sporty, or whatever?” he asks, nudging her knee with one of his own. “You know way more about all this shit than I do. Why aren’t you paying attention?”
“Because I like to be contrarian,” she says, finally looking up to meet his eye. She dogears the page in her book and squints out across the loosely-outlined volleyball court toward the ocean. “And because I have a paper due next week, and if I don’t finish this book by then, I’m definitely going to fail, so.”
Eddie nods slightly. “Fair enough.” He links his hands between his spread knees, elbows on his thighs. “Maybe you should just do what I did. Join a band, get famous enough that it doesn’t matter whether you went to college or not.”
She snorts. “You’re not that famous.”
[continue reading on ao3 || 4,586 words]
#eddiemonth#eddiemonthafterdark#kinktober 2023#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#steddie#stranger things#my fic
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come a little closer (i want you to stay a while)
happy new year yall 💕 i had a lot of fun writing this @harringroveholidayexchange gift for @suometar and i may have gotten a little carried away lmfao this is now my longest finished fic
read on ao3
~ tag list babes @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you ~
---
Steve knew this Christmas would be different than what he was used to.
Being surrounded by sprawling fields of shrubbery, for one. Clear roads and green squares of grass. Steve's never been the biggest fan of snow—it's just a whole mess when it melts in his hair, okay—but winter is odd without it. Mild and dusty, like a dry spring. Makes the twinkling lights and glittering displays of plastic evergreen seem out of place. Aspirational at best. Sad at worst.
But he came to California to be with friends, Dustin invited him along, actually wanted him to be there. That's the difference that really matters.
He left his father a voicemail, and had a long chat with his mother while she worked her way through the minibar in her husband's hotel room. "Good for you," she'd said warmly, with pride, when he told her he wouldn't be driving up to Chicago for Christmas. He thought she'd fight him on it. Insist he grit his teeth and bear it, because she had to, so why should he get off easy. It was a weight off his shoulders when she let him go.
This year would be good. He'd get to be with people who actually want him around. No tailored jackets with itchy collars and professionally wrapped boxes of perfumed tissue paper, hiding slacks that wouldn't fit and gift cards to stores he'd never been in. He'd get to make new memories.
And it's been all of that. Different. Better. He woke up on Christmas morning to the smell of pancakes and coffee, laughter sparkling in the air, and lights twinkling through filmy lace curtains. He felt like he was part of something when everyone congregated in the kitchen, their elbows bumping together, sharing a meal, a pot of coffee, and a conversation about nothing at all. With three—four, including El—Byers, two Hendersons, and Steve, the room was full to bursting but it never felt cramped.
Steve's been enjoying different. He loves different.
But…well…
Leave it to Billy to take things to a whole other fucking level.
He hadn't given much thought to the fact that Billy would be here. He'd made a point of not thinking about it. He hasn't seen Billy in a year and a half, the person he remembers probably doesn't exist anymore. No point worrying if things are going to be weird because of a stupid rivalry from when they were both in high school.
And there's even less point dwelling on the awkward tension between them that Steve probably imagined anyways. They only interacted a little bit after Starcourt. Mostly in passing, when Steve dropped Max off at the hospital, or picked up El because Hop was running late again. There always seemed to be some kind of undercurrent to their stilted conversations. Some thread that Steve couldn't quite pick out from the tangle of every other reason why shit was weird between them.
The night before Susan drove her kids back to California, Max came to say goodbye, and there was a part of Steve that was disappointed that she stood on his doorstep alone. Billy drove her there, but stayed in his car the whole time, and a year and a half later Steve still has no idea why it bothered him so much.
Well, he didn't, until Billy shows up on Joyce Byers' doorstep wearing fishnet stockings and red lipstick, and suddenly it's like there's no air in the room. The whole damn Christmas party evaporates around him.
Has he always been that pretty?
It takes Steve way too long to notice that Billy isn't alone. Eddie Munson is standing next to him, grinning at whatever Joyce is saying to them. He's got an arm casually slung around Billy's shoulders.
He'd forgotten that Eddie moved here too, after what happened to Chrissy last year. Dustin had been the one to suggest it. Like Lenora Hills is The Place To Be if you're looking to get away from the Upside Down and all it's demons.
It does help to have people around who get it. Steve just didn't know Eddie and Billy were…friends, or whatever.
Guess it makes sense, they both have that cooler-than-you metalhead thing going for them. Plus the Upside Down shit. Shared trauma, or whatever.
Seems like moving to California has been good for them though. Billy most of all. Last time Steve saw him he was pale, sickly from a year in Indiana, three months in a hospital, barely pulling himself together enough to drag a brush through his hair, let alone wash it regularly, or…well, go to all this trouble either.
He sort of glows now. It's not just the gold sheen of his curls or the bronze glittering on his eyelids, it's the way he holds himself, his posture loose, and the way his smile actually reaches his eyes and lights him up from the inside.
Steve's fairly certain he's staring, but he can't bring himself to not . It isn't like he never noticed that Billy's hot, everyone noticed, it was impossible not to when he was flaunting his everything all the time. But it wasn't until after Billy left Hawkins that Steve really started dealing with his attraction to men. Looking at him now, it's like putting on glasses for the first time when you didn't realize you needed them.
But maybe it's also the fact that Billy sure as shit never dressed like that in Indiana.
He's ditched the biker boots and layers of denim. Tonight he's decked out in a tiny dark green jumpsuit…thing. With pearly buttons, cinched at the waist by a simple leather belt, and short enough to leave most of his stockinged thigh exposed. And heels. Fucking. High heels. Robin's always said high heels are murder to walk in, and they take a lot of practice. Billy seems to be having no problem.
Of all the goddamn things to stick in Steve's head, that's what he gets snagged on. Maybe after years of trying to take shit in stride he took one step too many and finally broke his brain.
He watches Billy shed his jacket—his old brown leather one, the familiarity makes Steve's stomach do something weird—and toss it over the chair next to the door. There's something easy about how he does it, like he's done it a hundred times before. He must spend a lot of time here.
Steve takes a sip of his drink. He can't remember what it is, and he doesn't taste it as it goes down.
"Dude, are you okay?" Dustin smacking his arm jolts him back to reality. He freezes and tries not to look guilty.
"I'm good. I'm great. Yes." He takes another sip of his mystery liquid and clears his throat. He's sweating all of a sudden. The couch cushions are too lumpy. His shirt is sticking to his back. He can hear every conversation in the room and they all sound like swarms of bees.
"Riiight…" Dustin pauses, eyes narrowing. "Things aren't gonna be weird with you and Billy are they?"
"What?! Why??"
"I dunno, he beat the shit out of you that one time? And because you were, like, in the middle of saying something before he came in."
Oh. Shit. "Uh…"
"Seriously, are you okay?" He leans in, glancing around like he's making sure they aren't being watched, and lowers his voice conspiratorially. "You know, I could talk to Eddie. He could get Billy outta here."
"No!" Some part of Steve recoils at the thought. He stomps it down as hard as he can. "I mean. Nah, it's fine. That would be kinda…I mean, it's Christmas, right. Everything's fine."
Dustin could not look any more unconvinced. "Uh huh." He sits back againt his side of the couch. "Well. I'm going to say hi to Eddie anyways. You…have fun trying to act like you're not being weird as hell."
"Seriously, man, don't say anything to him."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm just going to say hi, I swear."
"For real, Henderson. Not a word."
"Jesus Christ."
**
The Byers' new place is bigger than their old one back in Hawkins, but it's still not big enough for Steve to escape the sound of Billy's voice.
It's not like he's eavesdropping on purpose. He's very definitely trying not to creep on Billy, but it doesn't seem to matter how hard he tries. After Dustin left him to fend for himself it's not like he had anything else to do.
And it's a bit of a novelty to hear Billy Hargrove make small talk for some reason. Regular, non-aggressive, boring conversation. He talks about working part-time as a bouncer. His day job at the local library, of all places. How much of a pain it was when his car broke down last month and he had to get Eddie to chauffeur him around in his shitty van.
It's all so stupidly normal. Billy's just. Living a normal little life here. It shouldn't make Steve's insides squirm when he thinks about it for too long.
Fleeing to the kitchen seems like a good idea. He offers to help Claudia and Susan with dinner, and they put him to work chopping vegetables. He half-listens to them chat about Dustin's latest project exploding in the garage, and how Max is doing in school, and…things. Stuff. Billy's in the other room, talking to Max, the tenor of his voice just barely audible over the clattering dishes and soft, staticky piano from the radio on the table. The cutout in the wall makes it too easy for Steve's eyes to stray, to search.
He gets two potatoes diced before the knife slips and he nearly loses a toe.
He is promptly shooed out of the kitchen.
So, fine, not a great idea.
He'll just have to find someone to talk to. Really engage with someone, and maybe he'll forget to be distracted. Sure, the whole first floor is basically one big room sectioned off with pillars and shit, which means everyone can see everyone all the goddamn time, but if he starts a really interesting conversation it'll be okay.
Except Dustin and Eddie are deep into their DnD talk that Steve only understands every other word of, El and Max have disappeared upstairs, Joyce seems to be going for round three of talk-to-Jon-about-his-life-choices, which Steve absolutely refuses to get in the middle of, and Will is…
Talking to Billy.
They're sitting on the far side of the room, separate from everyone else. Billy is sitting in a cushy looking chair, drink in hand, elbow propped on the arm rest he's leaning over to speak quietly to Will, who's curled up in the seat next to him, hugging his knees.
The kid looks like he's blinking back tears, and the first uncharitable thought Steve has is that Billy is the reason why.
But that doesn't make sense. He knows it doesn't. If the pinched look of concern on Billy's face wasn't proof enough, Will's watery smile a second later would be.
Steve's intruding. He's dying to know what they're talking about, what Billy said, when he and Will got so close, and when Billy got so…caring and stuff. Maybe he always was, just never in ways Steve was allowed to see.
Hell, he shouldn't even be seeing this .
He tears his eyes away.
Maybe he'll just go out for a smoke. He was always a social smoker anyways, parties set off his nicotine cravings.
He'll have to ask someone for one though. Right now Eddie is the best bet, probably. He doesn't really know the guy that well, but still, it's just a cigarette.
Turns out it's very difficult to get Eddie's attention when he's immersed in…elf politics? Steve has less than no idea what he and Dustin are arguing about, but they're very heated about it. Eddie has spilled his drink twice because he wouldn't stop gesturing with it in his hand, and Dustin looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel.
After a couple false starts, "Hey—" and "Jesus you two are loud," and "Who does a guy have to yell at to get a smoke around here." Steve stands awkwardly behind the couch they're sharing, staring at the ceiling and weighing his options. He really doesn't have many. Joyce probably has packs laying around but he doesn't feel right about rifling through her stuff.
Unfortunately the craving is really starting to hit him now that he's thinking about it. He's getting antsy.
Which is still only half the reason he nearly jumps out of his skin when someone touches his elbow.
"Yo, Eddie, are you and the dweeb gonna be at it all night?" Billy says from somewhere in the vicinity of Steve's shoulder. He hasn't moved his hand, and his presence feels…heavy, despite the tiny point of contact. Steve wills himself not to look. He's already zoned out a like a weirdo just staring from across a room, and Billy's cologne is making him lightheaded. He'd really, really like to make it through the night without completely embarrassing himself.
God, it should be illegal to smell that good around innocent bystanders.
Eddie stops mid-rant, his arm outstretched, drink aloft, face visibly brighter now that Billy's here, despite the interruption. Dustin, on the other hand, looks outraged, but Eddie doesn't seem to notice. "Could be." He grins, and leans back in his seat, lounging like he wasn't worked up and high-strung three seconds ago. "Doubt Henderson's gonna change his mind any time soon, he's stubborn like that."
"Yeah, I'm sure it's all Curly's fault," Billy laughs, low and warm and undeniably fond. And still right in Steve's goddamn ear, Jesus Christ. "Gimme your smokes."
"What? Why?" Eddie blinks at him, and Steve—forgetting all his resolve from thirty seconds ago—turns to do the same. Is…Billy helping him out? Why? And holy fuck he's even prettier up close. There's a cluster of freckles on the side of his nose that Steve can't stop staring at. It's a cute nose, and the tiny speckles along the bridge are somehow just unbearably fucking adorable.
"Because, you'll smoke the whole damn pack without even noticing, and then I have to deal with your nic fit tomorrow when you wake up without cigarettes."
Eddie chews the inside of his cheek, then tilts his head, conceding with a snort. "Yeah, fair enough." He pulls a half-squashed pack of Camels from his vest and holds it up pinched between two fingers, wiggling it in Billy's general direction.
Because the universe is conspiring to drive Steve insane, Billy's chest brushes his arm when he leans over the back of the couch to grab Eddie's smokes.
He's really, uh…recovered well from what happened at Starcourt. Steve remembers him complaining frequently and loudly about not being able to work out while he was healing, growling at nurses and generally bitching at anyone who would listen. Steve suspected at the time that the anger was mostly bluster to cover for the fact that he could barely move and had lost a good chunk of muscle mass while wasting away in the hospital.
Muscle mass he has most definitely gotten back.
Where he was skin and bone and stitches two years ago, he's now sculpted and firm, relaxed enough that when he presses close there's some give, and Steve is gripped with the incredibly stupid thought that he wants to be buried face-first in Billy Hargrove's tits when he dies.
He might actually have to go to therapy after this party, what the fuck.
Billy turns to him, making eye-contact for the first time in a year and a half.
Steve might as well have been smashed over the head again, for how poorly his brain is working right now. He seems to have stalled, stuck somewhere between hello, gorgeous and what the fuck does he want from me .
Somewhere deep down there's a bitter voice that can't help reminding him that Billy probably doesn't want anything from him. Whatever half-assed rapport they built wasn't enough to warrant a goodbye, why would time apart with zero contact make Steve suddenly worth talking to.
Still, when Billy jerks his chin and mutters, "Walk with me?" Steve nods without a second thought.
"Have fun you two," Eddie drawls, with a shit-eating grin that Steve does not trust. He squints at Eddie suspiciously, but all he gets is a sarcastic little finger waggle of a wave in response.
He half expects Dustin to be on his side here, but Dustin—the goddamn traitor—is giving him a weird look.
Whatever. Chances are it's nothing. Probably.
His shreds of hope that this is just going to be a quick formality catch-up start to fray away into nothing when Billy leads him around the cluttered coffee table, further away from the group, and out the back door.
Billy shakes a cigarette out of Eddie's pack and stick it between his painted lips. A little bit of red rubs off on the white paper.
"Y'know, Joyce doesn't mind if we smoke inside," Steve says weakly, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, towards the chattering voices filtering through the sliding glass door.
"I know." He flicks the plastic Bic lighter Eddie keeps tucked in his pack. Flicks it again. Three times. "Piece of shit," he mutters around his unlit cigarette. Fourth time's the charm, apparently. It springs to life with a metallic snick, and Billy greedily inhales the second he can, cheeks hollowing. He makes a face before letting the smoke pour from his nose. "Fuckin' miss Marlboros, man."
Steve hums, unsure what to say. Distracted by Billy's mouth. Confused as hell about what they're doing out here. He blinks dumbly when Billy extends a hand, offering up the cigarette pinched between two fingers. Ash flutters to the ground while Steve stares at it. At the pink smear on the filter.
"Uh, thanks." He reaches for it gingerly, afraid of looking too…anything, about something so normal. Their fingers brush, and he tries to act like that's normal too. "How, um. How've you been."
Billy gives him a wryly amused look, pulling out a second cigarette as he visibly contemplates his answer. Like it isn't obvious that he's been doing well. Leagues better than when he was in Indiana. Seems like an easy answer from where Steve's standing. But he still pauses, taking his time lighting up, then tucking the pack into his pocket. He's taken another drag before he finally says, "Good. Not a lot of things to miss about Hawkins."
"Right." Steve's not bitter. He doesn't sound bitter. Billy's right and he's doing good. And that's…good. He breathes in a lungful of smoke, lets it sit and burn before releasing it. It's been a while since his last cigarette—Robin doesn't like the smell, and he was never a big smoker anyways—but he manages not to cough.
"Said there wasn't much , pretty boy, didn't say nothing."
He chokes on his next pull.
He never thought he'd be grateful for a coughing fit, but it does give him an excuse not to say anything for several minutes while he recovers.
That can't mean what he thinks it means, but his big dumb heart leaps right to dangerous conclusions anyways.
"Oh," he manages between coughs. Nothing more helpful comes to mind.
Great. Spectacular. This is going so well.
"Oh," Billy echoes with the tiniest bit of a mocking lilt, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
It's such a Robin response that it's strangely comforting. He knows how to talk to Robin. Even when he kind of wanted to kiss her, it was easy to talk to her. Sure, his feelings for Billy have always been more complicated, but it's a start.
"Yeah, yeah," he sighs with an exhale that's almost a laugh. "Y'know, Hawkins is weirdly quiet without you and your obnoxious car. No one doing the Indy 500 up Main Street anymore. It's boring."
Billy smiles at that, something soft and private that he hides behind his cigarette. "What's stopping you from stepping up to the plate, Harrington."
"Demerit points?"
"Pff, lame."
Steve snorts. "Powell is so much more of a hardass than Hop was, I swear. Can't get away with shit anymore." He pauses, mesmerized by the smoke drifting out between Billy's lips. "You look nice tonight," he blurts, suddenly, and gestures up and down Billy's outfit. "All the—that. Suits you."
It's getting dark out, the horizon painted a dusky orange and the Byers' overgrown backyard half hidden in lengthening shadow, so it's hard to tell, but Steve could swear the tips of Billy's ears go pink. He shifts slightly, one heel scraping the wooden patio, and flicks ash over the railing. "Lost a bet," he mumbles, gaze dropping as he absently rubs at the lipstick stain on his cigarette with his thumb.
"Lotta effort for a dumb bet."
Billy shrugs. "Go big or go home, right."
"Hm." Steve's eyes trace the lines of Billy's face. The way the corner of his mouth pinches. The little furrow between his eyebrows. "Well, you should lose bets more often then."
The tension in his expression slips away, and he meets Steve's gaze with a lopsided grin. "I dunno, losing doesn't come as naturally to me as it does to you."
Steve sputters out an indignant, "Hey!" and smacks Billy's shoulder with the back of his hand. "Here I was being nice…"
"Oh, and what were you hoping my reaction would be, hm?" Billy's smile goes sly as he looks Steve up and down.
Steve pulse jumps up a notch or two. Just enough that he can feel it pounding against his sternum.
He could lie. He could brush it off. Make a joke. He could drop some obvious pick-up line, if he's right about what's happening right now.
He doesn't do any of that.
"Wanted you to smile. Which you did." He pauses, taking a drag off his cigarette to calm his nerves while Billy's gobsmacked stare bores a hole in the side of his head. "So I think that makes me a winner, actually."
"You… " As much as Billy tries to affect indifference, he sounds strained and breathless. "Anyone ever tell you you're cheesy as hell, Bambi?" Steve grins down at his hands, his ribcage full of warm fizzy feelings.
"Mostly girls who still put out later."
Billy's laugh is loud and bright. "Yeah, that tracks."
Hoo boy.
Steve is in so much trouble.
**
He's kissed a handful of people since Nancy, but for the life of him he can't recall what any of it was like.
Nancy he remembers. Her bubblegum lip gloss, and the bony curve of her shoulder digging into his chest, and the shy sort of mischief in her pretty blue eyes, the way she'd blink up at him when she wanted him to kiss her. The way she always waited, face turned towards him, a tiny crease dimpling the corner of her mouth.
Billy doesn't wait. The second the lock clicks into place he's in Steve's space, warm and heavy, a taut wall of muscle slamming into him, unexpectedly gentle hands sliding under the hem of his shirt. He kisses like he's drowning. Like he has minutes to live and this is all he wants to do with the time he has left. Like this is all he can do.
It's a raw, tender thing, red and bruising, a challenge and a surrender all at once. It makes Steve's head spin.
It's not like anything he and Nancy shared and yet he feels the same life-changing, heart-stopping, earth-shattering clarity that he felt the first time he kissed her. The same bliss washes over him. The same swooping sensation in his stomach as his whole world tips on its axis.
This is what he's been looking for. He didn't know until he felt it again, but he's spent the past three years desperately trying to capture even half the feeling he had with Nancy, flirting with every girl who will put up with him, chatting up guys in bars, and only succeeding in convincing himself he'll never love again, that he blew his one and only shot.
The upstairs bathroom at his ex-girlfriend's boyfriend's mom's house is kind of the last place he'd have expected to find that spark again, but he's not complaining now that he's here.
His hands tremble, clumsy as he threads his fingers into Billy's curls, coaxing him closer. He's not worried about finesse or coming off as cool and collected, he's too wound up for that, too busy grasping for more, more of whatever this is, as much as he can hold onto. Billy makes a quiet, startled sound as Steve, all at once, tightens his grip, tilting Billy's head back, slips his tongue into Billy's mouth, and presses a thigh between his legs.
Billy groans, low and catching in his throat, but Steve feels it rumble in his chest and it's some kind of fucking magic to behold. He knows they have to be quiet. The rational part of him knows that. But it almost seems worth getting caught just to know what Billy would sound like when he's not holding back. Is he dirty, or sweet, or just incoherent, gasping and only half-aware of the noises he's making? Some combination, maybe.
God, the things Steve would do to find out.
They're stumbling, making their way aimlessly away from the door, attached at the mouth. Steve knocks into the towel rack, with a twinge at the small of his back, but he doesn't let it distract him.
He fumbles with buttons near Billy's collar before his hazy brain recalls flashes of tanned skin, knotted scars, defined muscle pulling tight under dark material. His hands migrate down a little, halfway down Billy's chest before he finds buttons that are actually done up.
For the first time since the door shut behind them, Billy breaks away. Steve falls forward for half a second, chasing the lost contact—and for a moment, panics, wondering if he's done something wrong, before he realizes Billy's laughing at him.
His eyes are bright with it, mirth, mischief, a deep glittering blue like sunlight piercing through tropical waves. Steve's not exactly a connoisseur when it comes to make-up—in fact, according to Nancy, after he bought the wrong eyeliner for her birthday, he knows less than nothing about it—but he's gaining a new appreciation for the art. The warm bronze and gold tones of his eyeshadow, his impossibly dark eyelashes.
The red lipstick smeared around his kiss-bitten mouth.
It's all doing things to Steve.
Giddiness bubbles up in his chest, warm and floaty and buzzing, he can't help but join in Billy's laughter, a breathless exhale of a sound as he taps their foreheads together, irresistibly drawn into Billy's space. He smells like rosemary and smoke, like the spiced rum lingering on his breath, like all the sunlight he's soaked up, warm and bright and miraculously tangible under worshipful hands.
Steve parts the unbuttoned material hanging loose around Billy's torso, his palms gently press to scarred skin. His gaze lingers, not on the purple edges of healed flesh, pink and puckered valleys crisscrossing over Billy's sternum, but the subtle thudding of his heartbeat beneath, just visible if you know where to look. Billy's pulse is racing, and it's inexplicably satisfying to know he's the reason why.
"We don't exactly have time to enjoy the scenery, Harrington." He keeps his voice low. It sounds nice like that. Quiet and intimate.
"Mm…"
"Steve."
"Hm?"
Billy huffs a soft laugh, and, apparently having decided to take matters into his own hands—literally—goes for Steve's belt buckle.
It's obvious what he's about to do, but in all Steve's lust-filled fogginess, he doesn't put it together until Billy's fingers plunge beneath the waistband of his briefs the second his jeans are unzipped. He gasps when warm fingers wrap around his cock, strong and sure, caressing its length in firm strokes.
He's done this before, that much is obvious. There's no hesitance, no insecurity, every flick of his wrist is steady and practiced, just the right amount of pressure to make Steve squirm and bite his lip to keep from making too much noise. Billy's thumb drags across the tip of his dick every so often, circling his leaking slit, teasing his fingernail over sensitive skin. He grins, sharp and self-satisfied, when Steve shudders.
Cheeky. It is so on.
Steve dips his head, leaning into Billy's space and nuzzling the crook of his neck, inhaling deep and greedy. Golden curls tickle his forehead, and Billy's pulse jumps under the press of his lips, his tongue, his teeth. It's too easy to get drunk on the way his name is a low oath and a broken moan whispered hot in his ear, the way Billy arches against him when he starts to suck a spot at the base of his throat, the way his pace doesn't falter even as his free hand comes up to grip Steve's shoulder and his breathing grows shallower.
Heat pools in Steve's gut, egged on by every tiny sound Billy chokes on, every touch of his scarred hands, rough against the soft skin of his cock, the friction burns but Steve thrusts into his grip anyways, too lightheaded with pleasure to care.
He palms Billy's chest, tracing along the ridged edges of scar tissue, sliding blind until he reaches his nipple, circling the hard little nub with his fingertips.
Billy trembles at the touch, his grip on Steve's cock tightens, and for a moment they're both holding on for dear life, Steve burying a moan in the collar of Billy's shirt, and Billy swallowing a ragged, desperate noise that Steve can feel vibrate in his ribcage.
They're both still for a moment, chests heaving, leaning into each other.
There's faint chatter from downstairs, the hum of a radio turned down low. The ceiling vent rattles.
Steve pinches Billy's nipple.
"Hh— ah , fuck, Harrington you little shit," he hisses, too breathy to sound reprimanding. Besides, Steve can feel the hardness rubbing his thigh, felt his hips jerk and his dick twitch. He grins, pressing a smiling kiss to the side of Billy's neck.
"Sorry."
"Liar."
He wonders how reactive Billy would be if he was using his mouth instead. If he'd like Steve's lips on him like that. If Steve could make him cum just by sucking on his tits.
He traces another idle circle, relishing the goosebumps prickling across Billy's chest.
"Stop being a fucking tease," Billy groans, squeezing Steve's cock.
Steve exhales slowly, purposefully, the coiled heat in his gut tightening. He lifts his head to look Billy in the eye, and he's struck all over again by how fucking beautiful he is.
"God, you're gorgeous," he breathes, one hand coming up to absently fix a stray curl stuck to Billy's forehead. There's a flush on his cheeks, so dark it nearly hides the freckles that have bloomed there over the year and a half he's spent in the California sun. His opens his mouth, briefly, wordlessly. His tongue darts across his bottom lip, further ruining his lipstick.
"Yeah, I know," Billy says eventually. He rubs his thumb through a red smear on his chin.
Steve captures his hand before he can wipe off any more. "What do you want me to do?" He blindly traces the grooves in Billy's ring with his fingernail.
"Hm?"
"I'm gonna make you cum, tell me how you want me to do it."
Billy's gaze shifts, darkens, there's weight to it, the way it bores into Steve. He pulls his hand out of Steve's pants and instead starts undoing the rest of his pearly buttons. "I want you to fuck me."
Steve's pretty sure his vision whites out for a second. He blinks. "Uhh…"
"C'mon, Mr Big Talk, let's fuckin' go." He makes short work of his belt, tossing it onto the nearby bathmat. It lands with a muffled thump.
"Billy—" Steve has to bite down on his tongue to stop an actual moan from escaping him when Billy undoes his last button to reveal the hard line of his cock straining against powder blue lace and silk. Billy smirks, teasing his thumbnail along the waistline of his panties just to watch Steve's gaze follow. "Jesus fucking—Billy, what happened to we don't have time?"
Billy grins. "Aw that's cute, you think you'll last?"
"No—I mean, maybe—I mean, that's not what I mean, you asshole—" Steve cuts himself off, laughing at his own fumbling, rubbing his eyes to try and clear his head. "I don't want to hurt you," he tacks on helplessly.
Billy smile softens at that, just for a moment there's something bright and vulnerable shining through, but it's buried just as fast as it sprung up. "You won't." He grabs Steve's hand, guiding it around and pushing under his waistband. Silk brushes Steve's knuckles, and Billy—
"Oh."
Steve's finger slips inside him easily. He teases a second, just as a test, and watches Billy's face for any discomfort. His eyes flutter closed, and his lips part, and it's not pain , it's…
The thought of Billy fingering himself while he was getting ready for the party is overwhelmingly fucking hot. But it's also incredibly confusing. Did he plan on seducing Steve this whole time? How could he have been so sure it would work? Or maybe it wasn't about Steve at all, maybe that's just his standard pre-party ritual. Lacy underwear and lube. Jesus Christ.
"You prepped yourself?" He sounds a little hoarse. Man, he really isn't gonna last long, is he.
Billy's eyes open, and he gives Steve an unreadable look. "Not exactly."
"I mean it didn't get like that on its own."
"Obviously."
Steve is used to feeling like he's missing something, and he tries not to let it bother him, but in this case he really can't help it. There's a creeping sense of dread curdling in his gut, and he has a sneaking suspicion he's about to have his heart broken in a goddamn bathroom for the second time, but he's not sure why.
And then it clicks.
He withdraws all at once, putting space between him and Billy and holding his hands up, palms out, hovering in the air like he can't trust them if he can't see them. "Wait, wait, wait, you had sex right before—was it—are you and Eddie dating?"
Billy scratches his forehead, face scrunched like this is just mildly annoying. "Yes."
"Oh."
"Before you get all fucking sanctimonious, he knows about this," he gestures between the two of them, "and it's fine. So…"
"What do you mean it's fine?" Steve's voice cracks a little, embarrassingly.
Billy looks at him then, really looks at him. And his expression changes to something a little gentler. "I mean he's not exactly the jealous type, and we've talked about this. Really, it's okay."
"He's just…cool with you screwing around with other guys."
"I swear to god, Steve—do you want me to go get him, he'll tell you—"
"No, no. No. Um. No."
He has no doubt Billy would actually go get Eddie, just to prove a point, and this… situation— whatever's going on here—is messy enough already. If Billy was going to lie he would have just said he wasn't seeing anyone, but how does he know Eddie wasn't lying and just humoring Billy or something.
But that's not even what's bothering Steve, not really. He knows it should. He feels like it should. Even when he was sleeping around with whoever struck his fancy he tended to stay away from anyone taken, it's just not worth the hassle when there's plenty of other people who are willing and single. And it's wrong , right? Sleeping with someone who has a boyfriend already?
He should be disgusted with himself for considering it, but he isn't, and he doesn't like that he isn't.
Billy isn't just some random lay though. It might be worth the complications.
And…the thing is. The thing is. That's not even the biggest problem. That part is mostly buried under the avalanche of other feelings that he didn't expect and doesn't know how to handle.
The thought of Billy fingering himself before the party got him going, but this is something else entirely. Knowing that a few hours ago Billy was opened up and fucked, and this whole time he's been walking around like that, loose and wet and…and now he's asking for Steve to fuck him, while he's still carrying the touch of another man on him, in him. Billy can probably still feel Eddie's cock inside him and now he wants Steve's too, and that's just…
Steve can barely breathe at the thought of it. He's beyond flushed, he's burning up, he can feel it behind his eyes, under his jaw, aching and molten, he wants, he wants so badly it fucking scares him.
And he doesn't know why it's gripped him like this, or why he's so paralyzed over it. He doesn't have time to be conflicted, but he is. Frozen in place despite the heat bubbling in his veins.
"Look, if you're gonna call me a whore, can you just do it now and have your fucking freak-out on your own time?" Billy says sullenly, reaching for his buttons, his expression shuttered.
Panic smashes thought Steve's indecision, shattering whatever hold fear had on him, and he springs into action, darting forward to take Billy's hands. "No!" He says it a little too loud, a little too sudden, and they both flinch, glancing towards the door.
"What, do I get a lecture first?" Despite his carefully neutral expression and defensive posture he lets Steve hold him in place. Steve gentles his grip, and hesitantly shuffles closer. "Harrington?"
Steve kisses him. Just once. It's chaste, and brief. Reassurance more than anything else. "Promised I'd make you cum, didn't I?" he murmurs, trying to project more confidence than he feels. "So unless you want me to call you that…"
"I—" Billy blinks at him. "Don't remember you saying anything about a promise, actually."
"Billy, are we gonna do this or— mmh."
What he does to Steve is less of a kiss and more of an attack with his mouth, but Steve recovers quickly, steadying himself with a hand on the nearest shelf. Something clatters to the tiled floor, but he ignores it, thoroughly distracted by the truly fucking sinful way Billy licks into his mouth, and his desperate pawing at the front of Steve's jeans.
He utterly fails to pull them down enough for Steve to comfortably pull his cock out, too preoccupied with kissing Steve stupid, apparently.
"Here, let me," Steve laughs quietly, batting Billy's hands away. He glances around. It's not like there's enough space to fuck on the floor, and nothing really to sit on. The vanity is cluttered, and a bad height, so not useful either. There's a patch of bare wall next to the door, though. Might work. He jerks his chin at it. "Over there?"
Billy's gaze flicks towards it for half a second before returning to Steve. Very deliberately, without breaking eye-contact, he bares his shoulders, his arms, lets his clothes slip away and fall in a pile on the floor.
He only lingers for a second before he flashes a grin and moves to the wall, but the image of Billy in nothing but his blue panties and fishnets is going to be burned into Steve's brain until the day he dies. He's going to remember the way he stood loose and confident, despite the scars he swore he'd always hide being on display. The way a few stray curls had caught in his earring. The red mark starting to bloom at the base of his throat. The light blond hairs beneath his belly button. The tiny wet spot spreading out from where the tip of his cock is pressed to his underwear.
Steve stares blankly at the dark green fabric Billy left behind. His pulse roars in his ears.
"You coming or what."
"Jesus," Steve mutters, subtly shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. He runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah."
It's a bit of an awkward shuffle getting into position, stepping up behind Billy, making sure he's a comfortable distance from the wall—not so far that he'll overbalance if he needs to brace himself, but not too close either—fussing over where exactly to stand. He's stalling. He hates that he's stalling. There's a not insignificant part of him that's screaming at him to get on with it, that's burning with need. But he can't help the anxious grip twisting his guts. Now that he's actually here, about to do this, it's not just talk or flirting or making out, they're doing this.
He just…wants it to be good. He wants it to be perfect. Despite the fact that they'll have to keep quiet, and they can't take their time, and Billy will be staring at a wrinkle in the floral patterns pasted to the wall the whole time. He wants those things to be inconsequential compared to the rest of it.
But that's a lot to ask of someone with sweaty palms and a sneaking suspicion that he'll blow his load three pumps in.
He wriggles his jeans down a bit, taking his briefs with them, just far enough that they'll be out of the way. The air feels cold against his flushed skin. He's so hard it fucking hurts.
Billy cranes his neck to lock eyes with Steve over his shoulder, impatience clear in the way he arches his eyebrow, lips pursed like he's holding words back.
Steve takes his hands, and guides them so his palms are pressed to the wall. For a moment he's just holding Billy, arms caged around him, chest touching his back, curls tickling his nose. The tip of his cock brushes Billy's ass, the material stretched across it tantalizingly soft and frictionless. He drops a kiss to Billy's shoulder. "Keep 'em there, okay?"
Billy lets out a quiet breath that sounds as unsteady as Steve feels. It's oddly reassuring.
Back in high school Steve thought about Billy Hargrove's ass more often than he was ready to admit. Mostly along the lines of who needs to wear jeans that tight and stop staring, just wash your hair and leave. He'd never considered anything like this. The way it would look wrapped in blue silk and trimmed with lace. Getting to hook his fingers into the elastic waistband and slide it down, like he was unwrapping the worlds most pornographic Christmas present.
Teenaged Steve was missing out, truly.
"C'mon, c'mon," Billy urges him, arching his back just for the barest hint of contact, curling his fingers into fists against the wall.
Steve takes his cock in hand, and grips Billy's hip with the other. Lines himself up, and slowly pushes inside.
Agonizingly slow. Inch by inch. He squeezes his eyes shut and buries a groan in smoke-and-spice-scented curls, looping his arm around Billy's waist to pull him closer. Billy's abs twitch, tensing, firm under his palm, and almost absentmindedly Steve rubs his thumb in comforting circles in response.
He bottoms out with a stuttering exhale, and waits, listening to Billy breathe shallowly.
"You good?" he murmurs, slipping his other arm around Billy as well, and pressing another kiss to his shoulder. He doesn't pull back after, just rests there, lips brushing warm skin, enjoying the prolonged contact. The tight heat around his dick is making his head swim and his back sweat, but he'd almost be happy to just stay like this, holding Billy, sheathed inside him. Touching him everywhere he can.
Billy shifts his hips, like he's trying to take more, grinding back against Steve with a contented little hum.
It's not quite an answer. At least, it's not the answer Steve was looking for. He slides his hands up, cupping Billy's chest and thumbing the hard nubs of his nipples, rolling them between his fingers.
The punched out whine that Billy lets out makes Steve's whole body light up, and he just barely restrains the reflexive twitch of his hips.
"Need to hear you say it."
"Christ, Harrington, just fucking fuck me," he hisses. There's a slight wobble in his voice, a break towards the end, but mostly he sounds desperate, and goddamn if that isn't something Steve wouldn't mind hearing more of.
So. Good enough.
He gives Billy what he wants.
And thankfully he lasts longer than three pumps. But he's hanging on by a thread, overwhelmed in the best way. Billy is heavy and pliant in his arms, trembling and swallowing sweet little noises every time Steve nudges his prostate.
The slick glide of hours-old lube dripping from his hole is a constant reminder that Steve is the second person to fuck Billy today. That Eddie goddamn Munson had his fingers here, his cock. Steve wonders if Billy likes that Eddie's hands are guitar-calloused. Wonders what that feels like.
Lingers on the fact that Billy fucked his boyfriend this very afternoon, and still wanted Steve.
Fantasizes about fucking Billy while he's dripping with more than just lube. While he's still sensitive and overstimulated, wet and used and so, so good for Steve. So willing and ready for him.
His knees just about give out when Billy lets slip a thready moan, all hitched breath and something that could've been Steve's name. One of his hands slips from the wall with clear intent, but Steve reflexively grabs his wrist before he can touch himself. The sound Billy makes his half outrage, half sob, and Steve still doesn't let him go. Still thrusts into him, playing with his pink and swollen nipple, lips grazing the back of his neck.
"Steve."
"Not yet. Not yet, baby. You're doing so good," Steve murmurs between shallow breaths. "So good."
He guides Billy's hand back to the wall, stroking scarred knuckles with his thumb, holding him in place with a gentle touch.
"I can't—I need—" Billy pants, curling in on himself 'til his forehead is pressed to the wall between his hands, he's shuddering, knuckles white, his chest heaving. "Fuck , Steve, I—I'm…"
He could break out of Steve's grip easily, and they both know it. He could have a hand on his cock in seconds if he really wanted to, but he doesn't. Something about that makes Steve's heart skip, sing, float out of his mouth, light and giddy.
Steve lets go of his hand, skimming his fingers up Billy's arm, his neck, to cup his chin and turn his face. It's an awkward angle, but Billy sighs against his mouth, leaning back against Steve's shoulder, greedily sucking on his bottom lip. Steve can feel the tiny puffs of breath punch out of Billy every time he languidly rolls his hips, revels in the way his kissing is so much sloppier, wild and hungry.
While he's distracted Steve reaches down and takes ahold of his dick.
He jolts, surprised, his breathless cry muffled by Steve's lips.
It's that sound that pushes Steve right to the edge. He can feel all the heat in his veins flare, the pressure in his gut tighten.
"Billy," he gasps, kisses him again, fervently, "Billy I'm—I'm gonna—" He tries to pull back, pull out, he's halfway there when Billy falls back, plastering himself to Steve's front, from collarbone to thigh.
"Stay." Too soft to be a demand, quiet and pleading, Steve's heart somersaults in his chest.
Billy grinds down on him, clenching around him, bucking into his grip, and just like that, Steve cums so hard his vision goes spotty. He bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, holding Billy around the waist so tightly he's afraid he'll leave marks.
It takes him a second to relax, let out a breath and get his bearings.
His hand is sticky. That's the first thing he notices. Then, Billy bonelessly flopped against his chest, taking deep, quiet breaths, twitching when Steve's grip shifts on his softening cock. He makes a tiny irritated noise when Steve pulls out of him, and Steve tries—fails, but tries—not to find it hopelessly endearing.
What he wouldn't give to be laying down right now. To be able to roll over and press Billy into his mattress, curl into the crook of his neck and listen to his heartbeat as they fall asleep.
The sweat on his back is cooling, leaving his shirt uncomfortably damp in places. The noises from downstairs continue like nothing happened. Casual chatter. The ringing of bells from some Christmas song on the radio. His feels wrung out, exhausted at the thought of having to dodge questions about why he was gone so long.
Christ, they're gonna have to go back downstairs. Rejoin the rest of the world. Go back to…life. A life where Billy has a boyfriend, and Steve…
He gently pushes Billy upright. "We should get cleaned up."
Billy needs it more than he does, he notes guiltily. Steve might have cum drying on his fingers but Billy's makeup is wrecked, lipstick reduced to a pink stain smeared around his mouth, eyeshadow blurred with sweat. Upon closer inspection, there are tracks running down his cheek, black bits of makeup washed down his face by, presumably, tears, which, holy shit. When did that happen?
Steve rubs at the wetness with his thumb, like he's trying to prove to himself it's not what he thinks it is. All he succeeds in doing is getting his heart tugged on when Billy leans into the touch.
"Uh, sorry," Steve blurts out, because that's what comes out of his face when he has no idea what's happening apparently. Default to apologizing, because there's probably something he needs to be sorry for. Jesus Christ.
"What for."
"...Dunno." He pauses. Swipes his thumb across Billy's cheekbone again. "You cried."
Billy's back stiffens. "Don't worry 'bout it," he mutters, scrubbing at his face with the heel of his hand. He's gone suddenly, all at once, pulling out of Steve's loose embrace and brushing past him. Steve stares at the wrinkled wallpaper.
There's rustling behind him. And the sound of a tap running.
Guess that's that then. Billy seems to be getting on with it. Erasing all evidence that this happened, and moving on with his life. He seems to have a good life here, to be fair, him and Max are getting along better, he's got friends, a boyfriend, he's happy . Steve tries desperately to feel good about that, and not horribly, selfishly jealous that he isn't a part of any of it.
They had a nice time, because Billy and Eddie have an understanding, apparently, and that's all he's gonna get. And that's fine. It has to be fine, demanding more just…wouldn't be fair to anyone. Just thinking about being the guy who can't tell when he's not wanted makes him feel ill. He's had enough of that, thanks. All he can hope is that he was good enough to be memorable.
It's fine.
Steve lets out a breath. Tucks himself back into his pants and zips them up. He can wash up later, the bathroom is starting to feel claustrophobic and he needs to be…anywhere else.
"I, uh…This was. Fun. Thanks." He hides a wince, bowing his head and running a hand through his hair. He doesn't even know if Billy is looking at him right now, but it's the principle of the thing. "See ya, 'round, I guess."
He doesn't wait for an answer. It's rude, and selfish, but he knows Billy's not gonna say what he wants to hear, and he doesn't want to wait around hoping.
Walking into the hall feels like stepping into another dimension. He takes in a shuddering lungful of sweet-scented air, and pastes on what he hopes is a normal expression.
He doesn't look back.
He does, however, look down at his hand.
"Ah, fuck."
**
Billy stares, unseeing at the bathroom door.
Should've expected that, really. Things were going too well.
Things have been going suspiciously well for months, actually. Max has stopped jumping down his throat when she catches him smoking (the doc said he didn't recommend it, not that he couldn't do it). He likes his quiet, boring job. His scars still hurt, but it's more manageable now. And there's Eddie.
Eddie was just fun at first, and then he somehow ended up being someone Billy could count on. Or at least someone who makes him forget to watch out for the other shoe. Which is all he can ask for, really. It's a feeling he's not entirely familiar with, to be honest.
But apparently that's made him complacent. Now he's the kind of person who gets blindsided by people walking out on him.
This was fun. Jesus Christ.
This was everything he's been too scared to want, everything he's hated himself for dreaming of, everything he's guiltily fantasized about since that stupid fucking Halloween party back in '84. But sure. Fun. That too.
He wants to think it's a relief to be proved right. He wants to be grimly, stoically smug that he was correct in thinking he's always going to end up alone and miserable somehow.
But he can't. He's not. It just hurts.
He lets himself cry, silently, holding his breath while tears slip down his cheeks, counting down from sixty.
Fifty-nine…
Fifty-eight…
When his minute is up he finishes getting dressed. Washes his face. Methodically puts himself back together.
Lingers, staring in the mirror, his fingertips brushing the bruise just under his collar, pressing ever-so-slightly on it just to feel a twinge instead of soft lips and softer words whispered into his skin. Steve didn't fuck him like this was a one-and-done, just looking to get his rocks off with a warm body and perfunctory touches. He held Billy like he was something precious, fucked like he wanted to crawl inside and never leave, acted like he knew Billy would let him.
Maybe he did know. Maybe he was just trying to give Billy what he wanted. As much as he could stand to.
Everyone always said Steve Harrington's a fantastic lay, maybe that was the secret. Being a fucking people pleaser.
Billy turns away from his reflection.
He needs to talk to Eddie.
The thought makes him squirm. The instinct to confide in someone is still…new. Weird. Six months ago he would have rejected the idea and spiraled into self-loathing unchecked. He still kind of wants to. Spilling his guts about his stupid feelings is fucking humiliating.
But Eddie never makes him feel like shit about it.
He rubs his forehead. His eyes are dry, achy. It's making his head hurt.
He can't stay up here forever, no matter how much his stomach turns at the thought of being seen like this. Hiding away would be more of a giveaway than his red-rimmed eyes and barely salvaged makeup job.
Okay.
It'll be okay.
Just as he's finished psyching himself up for the trip downstairs, the door rattles. Quiet, insistent tapping from the other side. And, "Billy, you still in there?" Eddie whisper yelling through the door.
It's embarrassing how fast his knees turn to jelly, relief washing over him at the sound of his voice.
"Yeah."
"Oh thank god, that would've been so awkward if you weren't," Eddie mumbles half to himself as he nudges the door open, slipping into the room as soon as there's enough of a gap. His eyes are on Billy, wide and curious, lingering on the mark Steve left, and the pink blush where his lipstick rubbed off. "You okay? Harrington came downstairs looking like a spooked deer, which, uh. Didn't bode well. He didn't have a big straight boy meltdown did he? He kinda seems like the type."
…Did he?
That couldn't have been Steve's first time with a guy. He knew what he was doing. And he didn't seem shy about it either. Doesn't necessarily mean he wouldn't freak out after the fact, but…
Billy shakes his head. "Nah, it wasn't like that." He pauses, picking at a rough patch on his thumbnail. "He was probably just worried someone would ask him why he's been gone so long."
"Yeah, you two were up here a while," Eddie laughs, then schools his expression, scratching his cheek. "Seriously, what's the deal though, you all good, orr…?"
For all Billy's desire to talk to Eddie about what happened, he sure has no fucking clue how to start now that he's here. Suddenly he has no idea what did happen, if he ever knew. What's he even upset about? He had some truly mind-blowing sex and now he's all broken up about not being coddled afterwards? Did he have some ridiculous expectation that Steve would fall to his knees afterwards and declare that he's been secretly in love this whole time and he's going to move to California to be with Billy?
No, he tries to tell himself he didn't, that he's not that fucking stupid, but he's starting to have a sneaking suspicion that maybe he is. Maybe he really was that blind and dumb, and now reality is kicking him in the teeth and he has the audacity to be shocked by it.
He can't tell Eddie that.
His chest feels tight. Like when he forgets to put lotion on his scars and the slightest chill makes his skin feel thick and unwieldy, like his ribs have been shrinkwrapped, and every breath is a struggle to get air into burning lungs.
"Billy?" Concern bleeds into Eddie's soft tone. Concern he doesn't deserve, because he's just being an idiot, wanting things he can't have. Always watching empty doorways waiting for people who will never walk through them.
He should be grateful for what he has, but instead he's crying over not having more, it's fucking pathetic.
Billy shudders when Eddie carefully tucks loose curls behind his ears, guitar callouses catching on errant threads. It's a familiar motion, familiar touches, Eddie's perpetually cold hands, the rough patches on his fingertips, the way he always starts with the hesitance of a question with an uncertain answer. The familiarity is grounding, comforting, but Billy's still not sure what the answer is. He wants to lean into the touch, wants to be reminded that he's cared for, but a small angry part of him screams its throat raw and bloody telling him not to. Telling him to protect himself. He's gone soft , and it's Eddie's fault.
His eyes fall shut, and he shakes his head again, harder, trying to clear it. Eddie withdraws, taking that as an answer, but Billy panics at the sudden loss, heart leaping into his mouth, he grabs Eddie's hand.
"Shit, baby, what did he do to you?" Eddie murmurs, brows drawing together. He laces their fingers together, stepping into Billy's space to nudge Billy's cheek with his nose, like an affectionate cat. "Do I need to kick his ass?"
Billy snorts. "No."
"I could, you know. I could totally take him,"
"Pretty sure my little sister could take him, man. I'm not sure he's ever won a fight."
"Now there's an idea. Sic Max on him."
Billy's laugh is more genuine this time. He takes a breath. And another. The ring on his middle finger knocks against one of Eddie's, and he clicks them together again. He sighs. "He didn't do anything wrong." The words don't come easily, he has to drag them out, scraped raw and bruised, grimacing at the sour taste of them. "He fucked me and left, it wasn't…it was a perfectly normal hook up."
Eddie leans back enough to look him in the eye. If anything he looks more concerned by Billy's assurances. "That's it?"
It stings. Worse than a slap in the face. His posture goes rigid. "Yeah, I know, I'm all fucked up over nothing, thanks—"
"Nooo, no, no, no. No. Billy. Not what I meant." Eddie squeezes Billy's hand, clasping it between both of his like he's scared he'll pull away. "That's not what I meant," he adds, quieter, pleading. When Billy stays, suspicious but no longer tense and angry, he takes a breath. "I know you haven't just been pining after his dick for three years, when we talked about this it was pretty obvious you wanted to date him. That's kind of what we were making the exception for, no? So what's the deal here. Because seriously, I will kick his ass if he was just using you to get laid."
"I don't fucking know, okay. It just happened. We didn't exactly stop to negotiate terms beforehand."
"...He doesn't know you've been making giant cartoon heart-eyes at him since high school, does he."
Billy levels an unimpressed glare at him. "I burst into tears the second he put his dick in me, Eddie. I told him to cum in me. I think I made it pretty fucking obvious what this was."
"Okay, first of all, hot. And secondly. I love you, but do you have any idea how long it took me to figure you out? You're not as easy to read as you think you are." Eddie lets out an exasperated, half amused huff of a laugh. "And from what I hear Harrington is especially terrible at reading you. He actually believed you when you told him you lost a bet, didn't he."
"That's—"
"Billy."
"I—maybe, I dunno."
"That sounded a lot like, 'yes but I hate it when you're right.'"
"Fuck off."
"Mhm."
"Prick."
Eddie grins. "You love me."
"I hate you."
"Loooove."
Billy breaks, fond, begrudging, and smiles, a sigh rushing out of him. "Fine. Okay. Yeah."
"Ha. I win." He kisses Billy's nose. Then his cheek. His mouth. He rests their foreheads together, expression growing serious again. "You need to talk to him, y'know."
"Debatable."
"No, no it is not. You're going to be kicking yourself until the end of time if you don't work this out now."
He's right. Again. The bastard.
But it might be better to regret not clearing things up than to go for it and get explicitly shot down. He could barely handle implied rejection, what's going to happen if he bares his soul and Steve doesn't want it.
"Billy, I can see the evil little gears in your head spinning. Stop. Stop whatever it is that you're doing right now. It's gonna be okay."
"What if it isn't?" He doesn't mean to ask. His voice comes out small and wobbly, and all in a rush before he can catch it.
Eddie cards his fingers through Billy's hair. "Even if it doesn't go the way you hope it does, you're gonna be alright. You're strong like that. And you've got me still. And plenty of other people who care about you. I know you want him, and that…uh, it's hard when that kind of thing is taken away, but you don't need him. Not to live. Not to be happy. You'll be okay."
It's then that Billy is vividly reminded that Eddie watched a girl he cared about get brutally murdered, and it…puts things in perspective.
He lifts their joined hands and kisses Eddie's knuckles.
"Alright. But if this turns out to be a huge mistake I'm making you watch Dirty Dancing again."
"Oh, come on."
"Be there for me in my time of need, Eddie."
"Ugh."
**
He finds Steve sitting on the loveseat, blank, glassy eyes aimed at the muted weather report on TV. Henderson is perched beside him, nattering in his ear.
"It's weird , okay. You're being weird. And no one will admit that it's weird, which is weirder—"
"Hey, Nerd Jr. Scram."
Steve flails, freezing with his arms half raised, his eyes bugging out of their sockets, scrunched into the corner of the couch like he can disappear between the cushions if he throws himself at them hard enough. It would be fucking hilarious if Billy didn't feel a little like throwing up and a lot like running away. And if Steve's stare wasn't so intense it's making the back of his neck prickle.
"You can't just—"
"Dustin, it's okay." Steve manages to sound surprisingly level for a guy who jumped out of his skin two seconds ago.
Henderson throws his hands in the air. "I swear to god, Steve. If he, like, has something on you I can help with that. Never give in to blackmail."
"Unless what they have on you is, like, super embarrassing, then maybe consider it," Eddie says, appearing out of nowhere with a lilt in his voice, throwing an arm around Billy's shoulders and leaning towards Henderson with a conspiratorial smile. "Trust me, man. Better off staying outta this one."
"Wait is he actually—"
"No," Steve cuts in, a sudden odd edge to his voice.
Eddie glances between Steve and Billy, squinting in that way he does when he's got some idea percolating in his little gremlin brain. He's putting pieces together, and Billy has no fucking idea where he's getting them, it's not like he doesn't already know what's happening here.
With that same contemplative look on his face, he shifts closer to Billy, putting his arm more securely around him. And then kisses his cheek.
Billy stiffens, ever-so-slightly, trying his hardest to play it off while his pulse roars in his ears and his face flushes, because what the FUCK, Eddie.
He's desperately grasping for conversational straws that might distract everyone from what just happened, but he fumbles, drops the whole lot of them when Steve shifts in place, averting his eyes. Looking down at his hands, his mouth twisted into a tiny frown.
Huh.
Henderson's looking at them both like they've grown second heads, but Billy couldn't give less of a shit now.
"Y'know, I think you're gonna be more than okay, babe," Eddie whispers in his ear, chin propped on his shoulder. "Good luck." He pats Billy's side before withdrawing and turning to the dumbstruck little nerd on the couch. "Henderson. I do believe I was in the middle of completely destroying you in a debate."
Henderson narrows his eyes. "I know what you're doing, and I'm only letting it work because I've decided I don't actually want to know what's going on here."
"Good man."
And then they're alone.
As alone as they can be while he can still hear Jon patiently explaining why he's better off going to college in-state, and Susan's shy laughter as Mrs.Henderson tells her about a party she went to in the 60s. And he can feel Will looking at them. He's been looking since Eddie slung a casual arm over Billy's shoulders.
The kid has a staring problem. It used to make Billy itch, the way he'd always be watching. Took him too long to realize why he did it.
The last thing Billy ever expected to be for anyone was a role model, and he still hesitates to use that phrase. He'd never forgive himself if Will ended up like him. But he's doing the best he can. Sometimes all he can do is just…let himself be seen.
He sits down next to Steve, close enough that their knees touch. He's warm. Solid. Not moving away.
"I was talking about you, y'know," Billy says quietly.
Steve blinks at him, brows furrowing. "Huh?"
"You're the only thing I ever missed about Indiana."
"Oh."
Billy snorts. "Oh."
Something in Steve's expression softens. Something warm and inviting. He's always had a face like a hearthfire, making pretty promises of home and safety when you watch through a window. Dangerous if you get too close.
It's gone a moment later, snuffed out. Steve looks away, a frown tugging at his lips again. "I never understood why you didn't say goodbye."
Well. That's ironic.
Billy'd forgotten about that. He was in a bad way when he left Hawkins. Angry at himself, at the world, so deep in the weeds that he couldn't remember what sunlight looked like. He wasn't the kind of person that people wanted to know. Steve certainly hadn't made an effort, but he was always around , like he was just trying to remind Billy of what he couldn't have.
He didn't know how to say goodbye to someone he barely knew but desperately wanted to. It was easier just to make it as clean a break as possible. He'd always assumed Steve wouldn't care either way.
"We weren't friends, Steve."
A muscle in Steve's jaw twitches. "I know. But there was…something, right?"
"…What exactly are you asking me?" This is not where he saw this conversation going.
"I dunno, just thought, like, we could've been friends, right? Or. Something else. Y'know, before."
What. The fuck. Is he supposed to say to that.
"We weren't , why does it matter what might have happened?"
"Guess it doesn't," Steve mumbles at his knee, posture wilting.
"Did—did you want to be friends back then?" He can't ask about something else . He doesn't want to know. There are enough things in his life that he regrets, he doesn't need to add wasted three years not jumping on Steve's dick to the list.
This is almost worse though. That chance Billy could've had something real back then. Something to hold on to while he was drowning. A chance he wasted by being a coward.
"Why does it matter?" Steve parrots, just edging into bitchy with his tone.
It doesn't, he wants to say. It shouldn't. He approached Steve tonight because all his Talking It Out with Eddie had him in knots over all the stupid shit he did while mooning over Steve. He wanted to test the waters, see if he could get his shit together. Get closure, ideally. Discard that horrible little pearl of hope that had gotten caught somewhere along the line. But then Steve looked at him like Eddie looks at him, and all the just go for it and see what happens Eddie planted in his head took over.
But that was just tonight. It was a chance he'd taken and he's lucked out, and maybe Steve wanted to explore this new thing with him, but it was new. It was just this. It was Billy getting a second chance because he was a better person than he was before. Steve wouldn't have wanted him when he was at his worst. He wouldn't. He didn't.
"Because I was a piece of shit, Steve," he hisses, fingers curled into fists in his lap. "I was a fucking nightmare, and you hated me. And I didn't say goodbye because I was a selfish prick who couldn't deal with letting go of the one thing in that fucking hellhole that was worth a damn."
Steve stares at him. Really looks, like he's trying to burrow inside and pick him apart. "What about Eddie?"
"I didn't know him then."
"You didn't know me."
"But I wanted to! I always wanted to, you fucking asshole, so don't—don't pretend we could've been anything back then, alright. I tried, and it didn't go anywhere." Billy bites his lip. He came here to talk, but not about this. Ideally he would have never talked about this. It's fucking embarrassing.
"I…" Steve furrows his brow. "Always kind of thought you hated me, to be honest." Well. Looks like Eddie was right about Steve's observation skills. Fucking hell. "I didn't hate you though. You were annoying as hell sometimes, I'll give you that, but…Jesus Christ, Billy."
…Apparently Billy's aren't much better. Okay.
"So I guess we could've been something then," Billy says dryly, just to break the silence. "If we weren't so fucking stupid."
Steve laughs, a little helplessly, and runs a hand through his hair. "Guess so." He sobers, arm dropping to his side, tucked close like he's hugging himself. Billy wants to touch him. Offer something. He doesn't know what. "Kind of, uh. Sucks we figured that out too late then."
Billy rears back, enough that their thighs are no longer pressed together. His heart falls somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach, dropping like a stone in dark water. "What?"
"...What do you mean 'what?'"
"Steve, for fuck's sake—"
"You have a boyfriend now! And a life here! I don't—you said—" Steve gestures vehemently, talking a little too loud, seemingly unable to stop this from bursting out of him. "Being cool with your boyfriend hooking up with random dudes is one thing, dating is—it's not, I'm not trying to get in between you two, okay? You guys seem, happy. It's—I'm happy for you."
Oh.
Oh shit.
"Steve, for fuck's sake!" Billy launches himself forward, barely registering Steve's wide-eyed surprise before he grabs his face and plants one on him. And another. Gentler this time. Steve makes an odd wheezing sound.
"Uh."
"He's cool with me being with you , dumbass. He knew how I felt—how I feel , and. We talked about it. We talked about you. Okay?"
Steve opens his mouth. Closes it again. "Oh," he breathes.
Doubts prickle at Billy, needling him, the same doubts he had when Eddie first brought this idea up. Before he swore up and down that he just wanted to be with Billy, he didn't want to lose him, it didn't matter how he felt about anyone else.
"You're okay with this, right."
The doubts start to swarm, multiplying, when Steve pauses, expression pinched as he considers it.
"I mean, it's weird." He reaches out to touch Billy's arm, a loose grip around his elbow. "But I just…wanna make you happy. I wanna be part of what makes you happy. I don't have to be all of it."
The doubts melt away. Along with Billy's entire heart. "Oh."
Steve grins. "Oh," he echoes.
"Are you boys, uh. Almost finished? Dinner's ready," Joyce Byers calls out from where she's leaning against the half-wall behind the couch.
They spring apart, Steve stuttering out half-sentences, and Billy slowly realizing that half the people he knows were six feet away the entire time, and he feels a little like the ground could swallow him whole right now and that would be better than what's happening.
His face heats when Joyce grins at them. "Better wash up, the table's already set." And with that she turns to leave.
It could have gone much worse, but Billy still kind of wants to crawl into a hole somewhere. Eddie's beaming at them from across the room, Henderson is eyeing him suspiciously, Susan comes out of the kitchen with a bowl of mashed potatoes in hand and shoots him a tiny, gentle smile, and Will is sitting at the dining table, staring at the plate in front of him with a vacant, wide-eyed look.
He's gonna have to have a conversation with that kid later. Christ, he's gonna fuck it up so bad.
Steve reaches over and takes his hand.
…But maybe if he keeps trying something good will come from it anyways.
#harringroveson#stedilly#harringrove#mungrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#gnc billy hargrove#stranger things#a raven's writing desk
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As much as I like the concept of ronance, I honestly couldnt see robin being comfortable it happening. Robin knows shes crushing on Nancy, she knew the moment she realised that nancy is different than priss she thought she was. But robin also knows what happened between Nancy and Steve.
You cannot tell me that after the bathroom scene in s2, steve doesnt get uncomfortable with the word bullshit. Whenever he hears it, it reminds him of when someone he loved called him and everything he was trying to do for her, bullshit. Then blamed him when she was sober saying all she remembered was Steve getting mad at her because she kept drinking which didnt happen, he didnt even get mad until he left the bathroom. And Nancy never apologized for this, not once. Not for calling him bullshit, not for emotionally cheating, not for blaming him when he was just trying to help.
Even if both steve and nancy have moved past their relationship and become freinds, you cant tell me that he is still a bit fucked up from that night. That he cant hear bullshit the same again because everything he does, apparently to nancy, is bullshit. And if the roles were reversed and nancy was a man saying what she did to a woman, it would get people pissed!! But since Steve's a man and Nancy's a woman I think it's way to overlooked when it comes to their relationship.
Then when Steve meets Robin, they become best friends, platonic soulmates even. So there is no way, Robin hasn't listened through steve telling her about his relationship with nancy and what happened because of the upside down. Hasnt accidentally, called him bullshit and watch him wince, the same way he gets when someone asked who do you work for, and notice how hes actually pretty fucked up he is from that. Having to be the one to try and convince Steve to address his trauma, because she can see how badly hes affected even if he denies it's there!!
So the moment, Robin realises, she is falling for Nancy. You cannot tell me, that she doesnt hate it. You cant tell me that she hates the fact shes falling for the girl who fucked up her best friend. She may be cool, and an amazing monster fighting, smartass. But she also hurt steve, and steve is Robin's person. So even if Nancy reciprocated her feeling, I dont feel Robin would want to go forward with the he best freinds ex. (Vickie definitely likes her back anyway so let's have them please they are so cute)
Now dont get me wrong, I love nancy as a character, and her inability to admit shes wrong is an interesting character trait that I think adds to her character well. But I just dont think she should stay in a relationship, or move to robin because shes been in a relationship constantly from the beginning of the show, and I believe she should take a break and work on herself, like steve has done.
Anyway this is my rant, goodnight
#stranger things#steve harrington#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#let nancy be single#if steve wont adress his trauma we will!#platonic stobin
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the truth is i've been dreaming of this tired tranquil place tag 6/?
ao3
Robin has told Steve about a hundred times that he needs glasses.
The fancy government doctors who saw to him after the last jaunt in the Upside Down (which left him with his seventh and eighth concussions, at least of the ones he could remember) said he might have problems with his eyesight as he got older, maybe his hearing too. They also said the migraines he got would probably be a lifelong companion, and prescribed him an as-needed med that he was supposed to keep filled. He was usually pretty good about it, but the thing with collecting concussions like trading cards, at least in Steve's case, is that he doesn't remember things as well as he thinks he should, his head gets a little foggy and it just slips away.
All this to say, as right as Robin probably was about the glasses and how they might help with his migraines, he never remembered to set up an appointment, and it was easier and less scary to deny it was a problem than to admit it was probably a result of the long term brain damage. Also as good as he tries to be about it, he doesn't always refill his prescription as often as he needs, especially because it's not like they're constant.
He wakes up one morning and he can't even move his head it hurts so badly. The sun sneaking in between his curtains hits him like a knife as it rises, and he feels hot. His brain feels sticky between his ears, and there is a pounding sharp pain blooming from behind his eyes.
He hears Eddie moving around and getting ready and every small noise is like a nail scraping against the inside of his skull.
Steve should have left already. He should have been gone before Eddie even woke up. He's going to get fired from his damn job if he can't get to the phone to call Keith, so with frankly impressive motivation to not have to move back in with his parents, he throws the blanket off of his head and sits up as slowly as possible. He stands even slower, and grips the wall as he works his way to the kitchen to lean against the bar and call in.
He hasn't had to call out of work for this in months.
Keith isn't as big of a dick to him as he could have been, just says that he'll call the new kid in after school lets out, and tells him to feel better and to let him know if he won't be in tomorrow.
One thing at a time.
Steve goes and fills up a glass with water to sip at slowly and makes his way to the bathroom for his pills.
Of course he has half a dose rattling around in the bottom of the bottle. He takes it anyway, presses his fingertips into his eyes for a minute to chase away some of the trails of color that keep blinking into his vision.
By this point it's a little after noon. Everyone he knows is going about their day, and the meds are a controlled substance or whatever so he has to be there to get them anyway. He pulls his way back to the phone to call the doctor so they can call his prescription into the pharmacy in town, then makes himself eat a piece of dry toast and more water so the meds don't make him nauseous.
He doesn't know if it's ever been this bad, not since actually healing the head wounds from the Upside Down. He'd love to cry his way through it and be miserable in bed about it because it isn't fucking fair that his brain got scrambled by monsters and the people around them, but he knows if he gets started he won't stop. He also knows that if he thinks it's bad now, he'll want to crack his head right open again if he can't stay still and silent and dry-eyed.
He doubles up with an over the counter painkiller and hopes it'll help get him through, then pulls on some boots and a giant sweater, his jacket and a hat and the darkest glasses he's got, and walks into town.
It's awful every step of the way, like each time his foot hits the pavement his bones and his teeth all shake, but he eventually gets to the pharmacy, even smiles at the lady who fills it and hands him the bag. He buys a Coke too, pops open the pills as soon as he's outside and hopes that another half dose and some extra sugar will do him well, but when he tilts his head back to drink it's like all the blood in his body pounds into his head and he barely keeps it together, manages to slide down the wall of the store instead of blacking out and falling on his face.
He's sitting there for what could be seconds or forever, head in his hands and Coke bottle broken across the sidewalk beside him, a tiny rivulet streaming down to soak into the knee of his pajamas and he can't even be bothered to move it.
He thinks that he just has to wait for the meds to kick in, actually, he'll be fine then, but he hears a 'what the fuck.' above him and the jingling noises of someone heading towards him.
'Stevie, man, what's going on?' Eddie is sliding down the wall on the other side of him, jostling Steve's leg so it's propped up out of the sticky Coke.
'Migraine.' Steve grits out. He leans his forehead into Eddie's shoulder with a wince, blocking out the light and putting a little pressure.
'Yeah no shit. Why aren't you at home? You look awful.' One of his hands is up at his shoulder in an attempt to further blot out the early October sun.
'I'd love to be. Meds.' He jostles his little paper bag.
'Okay pal. Hang on a sec, I am gonna go tell Jake I'm taking off for the day.'
'You don't have to do that, I can walk home.'
'Yeah and you're gonna, and I am too. I just gotta drop off his sandwich and tell him, it's slow today anyway.'
Steve pouts about it but it's not like he can force him to go restock records or whatever.
He honestly doesn't even realize Eddie has left and come back again until he's carefully hoisting Steve up and leaning him against the wall, pushing another cold bottle of Coke into his hands and grabbing his meds to shove into his jacket pocket.
'Alright, big guy, take a sip and let's blow this pop stand.'
'I'm fine, you don't have to walk me home.'
'Stop. I am helping you.'
Steve grumbles about it, but it's kind of nice to have him at his shoulder, there to lean on if he needs and pay attention to where they're going so he can keep his eyes down.
Eddie gets the doors for him when they get home, pops the meds on the counter, and asks if Steve needs to take a dose now. He asks if he's eaten, if he needs water, if he needs help getting his shoes off.
Before Steve can answer, Eddie's pulling the strings and loosening them so he can toe out of them.
'Will a dark bath help? I feel like a dark bath will help. Robin said once that it helped.'
Steve was going to turn it down but he's distracted by the idea that Eddie and Robin have talked about ways to help him through a migraine, and then Eddie's walking away from him and down the hall. He hears the bath start running, and he shrugs out of his jacket and sweater, puts his hat and glasses on the end table. He finishes the rest of the Coke and tosses the bottle.
Eddie comes back in and Steve notices how concerned he looks. He thinks again about he and Robin caring about him, doesn't think about how his parents didn't even give a shit if he came home bleeding and actively concussed as long as he didn't make them look bad.
He's leaning hard against the counter, head too swimmy to climb onto a stool still, and Eddie is on the kitchen side looking back at him.
'Hey.' He says quietly. 'Are you okay?'
'Better. Feeling a lot better than before at least. You didn't have to-'
'I know I didn't have to, I wanted to. I'm here to help. Lemme help.'
Steve sighs. 'Thank you. I'm just. Not used to the… fuss, I guess.'
Eddie frowns at him, then turns around and puts a pan on the stove full of water. 'I'm making you some of this ginger tea, Jake swears by it, I stole some from him.'
'You don't need to be stealing stuff for me Eds.'
'I'm joking, he gave it to me. I'm a recovered criminal.' He clicks on the stove and watches the pot for a minute. 'He said he hopes you feel better.'
'I don't even know him really.'
'No, but I know you, and he knows you're feeling shitty. It's not a big deal.'
'Feels like a big deal.' He might not have been so forward with the feeling if his head wasn't so fucked up.
Eddie is shaking his head, but he sets up one of the novelty mugs Wayne gave them with a tea bag and some honey. He pours the water in even though it's not quite boiling, and carries it and a fresh glass of water into the bathroom.
He comes back out and says 'You're all set up in there. Go chill out until your meds kick in, and I'll make us some food.'
Steve doesn't know what to say so he just says 'thank you' again. Eddie gives him a small and serious salute, then starts rummaging around in the cabinets as Steve carefully mosies his way back to the bathroom. He really is feeling a little better, and a bath usually does help.
Eddie has a couple of little candles lit, so he can keep the lights off as he undresses and slips into the warm and sudsy tub. It's small and cramped, but it's still soothing. He puts a washcloth over his eyes and sips at the tea, which is hot and a little spicy.
He's actively trying not to dwell on how taken care of he's feeling, because every time it tries to push to the surface his chest starts to feel tight.
He doesn't know how much of it all is the placebo effect, but he really does feel better by the time the water has cooled.
He's just starting to muster the effort to climb out when he hears a gentle little knock on the door and Eddie says softly 'just making sure you didn't fall asleep in there. There's food when you're ready, but it'll keep!'
'I'm still alive!' Steve calls back.
'Nice.'
'I'll be out in a few. Hey Eddie? Thanks. Seriously. I don't. I'm not used to the, you know. Being taken care of, so I appreciate it.' It's a little easier to say it sincerely with the door between them, but he's still staring into the surface of the water as it starts to drain and trying not to cry.
'That's what friends are for, asshole, we care about you.' Eddie says kindly.
'Wow. Me in my time of need, being called an asshole. Real rich.' He pulls himself to standing as he hears Eddie's responding cackling disappear back to the kitchen.
He throws his pajamas on from earlier and just runs a towel through his hair so it's not dripping, then he goes into his room and pulls another sweater on for the comfort of it all.
When he gets back out into the kitchen, Eddie is dishing soup into some bowls, setting the bowls onto plates with little cut grilled sandwiches on them.
'Soup's on, Stevie!' he comes around the bar, sets both plates on the coffee table and sits on the floor. He pats the space next to him and smiles, then picks up the remote to flip through the channels. He's stopping on an episode of Transformers when Steve lowers himself to the floor, and he lightly shoves his shoulder against Steve's.
They sit and watch the cartoon robots, and eat their grilled cheese and chicken soup, and it's the nicest afternoon Steve thinks he's ever had actually, even with the last grips of his headache still clinging pretty tight.
'I need to get glasses.' Steve murmurs over a commercial, mouth full.
Eddie looks at him thoughtfully, chewing. 'I think you'd pull em off.'
'Eh, I'll look like a dweeb, but I think it'll help with the migraines. Robin says so at least.'
'I think you'd look like. Professorial. Like a hot teacher.'
'Pfft.' Steve blushes, but he decides to lean into it to keep himself from feeling self-conscious about the inevitable frames he'll have to choose. 'I could get like. A tweed jacket.'
'Stevie, if you do that we'll have to fight the ladies off with your nail bat so you can get a moment's rest.'
'Well, it's about time they start noticing me again. Maybe it'll help.' He's really forcing the optimism.
Eddie is just looking at him thoughtfully.
'I just need to make a call I guess.' He puts the last bit of crust into his mouth and slides his plate away from him so he can rest his head on his arms in front of him.
He leans his head to the side to look at Eddie again because he's still quiet, and he shakes his head like he's waking up and finally looks away, back at the TV.
Steve is watching the light play off of Eddie's profile as he drifts off, and the TV is off when Eddie carefully nudges him awake and makes him go lay in his actual bed.
He dreams about camping, about fishing at a lake he's never actually been to and peaceful waters.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#fanfic#ficlet#steddie ficlet#stranger things fanfiction#robin buckley#fic
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The Mysterious Art of Coping
Preview
Harrington immediately moves getting tired of standing moving to sit on the couch next to Eddie. Even though he didn't know the other all that well he always had this thing about pleasing others. And it seems like Eddie really needed cheering up, and as the people pleaser he was he's glad to be the first to attempt to help the other out. Steve had always been good at reading other people and their needs and he knew the other probably didn't want all of the attention on him because he was struggling. So immediately he's moving closer to the other whispering as softly as he can,
"The shit heads been only talking about you for the past week and it's sort of hurting my ego man. You're supposed to be the jealous one here not me." Steve teased softly before adding. "Though shut up, I want to watch this unfold. Dustin's totally going to get his ass chewed out again and you're totally talking way to much." He says playfully. He remembered how the other was in the upside down and try's to imitate that. If he was honest he sort of wanted to hear the other ramble on about Ozzy again. Harrington, like the rest of the group hasn't heard the other speak for week.
Steve catches onto Eddie's amused look as his brown eyes meet Steve's. The shorter haired boy can't help but smile a little bit at the other before he's looking around finding a bag of chips stuck in between the crack of the couch cushion. He was really hungry and was forced to skip breakfast for this meeting, Dustin had scared the shit out of him and made him think that Vecna was back and he ran out the door immediately when he got the call.
Steve was fully aware that the chips were probably old and stale but he didn't care. His stomach was growling loud enough that Eddie had even heard. Blushing the hungry boy almost misses the others soft whisper back, "Jesus Harrington, did one of those Demon bats find its way into your stomach?" He teases softly and Steve can't help but look very amused as he chuckles rolling his eyes playfully. "Though I don't know if I would eat those if I were you, they've probably been sat on and been there for days now." Eddie warns softly.
Steve opens it anyway looking inside as he ignores the amount of eyes on him and the warning that he seemed to be the only one who had caught. Eddie's even looking at him full on now instead of trying to be nonchalant about it. And there's this spark in his eyes that Dustin can't help but catch onto. Something that only reached his eyes when he was playing DnD. Though they were all aware of the amused smile on Munson's face, but Dustin knew the other could be smiling the hugest grin and that crazy look in his eye wouldn't be there. Even Robin was even looking over for a second as she starts to scold Dustin, but then she's going back to Dustin who snaps out of the trance he was in.
Steve's reaching inside the plastic and popping a chip in his mouth as he chews slowly trying to figure it out. He's raising a eyebrow at everyone now as they look at him disgusted. "Should I remind everyone that I bit into a bat when I was in the Upside Down. I'm pretty sure Stale chips that have been in Eddie Munson's couch for god knows how long won't kill me. This could be way worst." Steve says interrupting Robin for a second who simply rolls her eyes a little amused before going back at Dustin ranting at him some more.
Then he's turning to offer Eddie some. "Hey man, you have no room to judge me. The chips were in your sofa not mine." Steve says with a mouthful of chips and Eddie's reaching in to grab a few. He's also had far worst things in his mouth then week old stale chips. He simply pops them in his mouth before he's turning to watch Robin rip into Henderson with Steve tuning into the end of it.
"You are the most obnoxious kid I've ever met. Steve has canceled on me five times just to go pick you up from whatever the hell you were doing. You do know gas isn't free right? Doesn't grow on trees? So why the fuck are you making him drive you everywhere when you have a Bike?" Robin rants at him. "You are fully aware that you are walking all over him and taking advantage of him and yet I don't see you doing anything nice in return, except argue with him about every little thing. It was his idea to come and check up on Eddie, and you twisted it into some stupid intervention. So why don't you bug off and stop trying to act like you are older then us. We all know you're smarter but it doesn't give you the right to bully Steve because he's not the brightest of the bunch. Look at him Dustin. He's eating ass chips out of Eddie Munson's couch. That in itself deserves pity not judgment. God knows how long they've been there!" Steve's chewing slowly before furrowing his eyebrows.
"Should I be offended by that?" Steve asks confused as Eddie speaks up for the first time sense everyone's been in the trailer.
"It's the tone right?" He asks as he turns his head to look at Steve who looks at him and nods his head agreeing. Steve swallows the chip he was chewing as he pauses for a second.
"It really is, I can't really tell if she's being sarcastic, serious or patronizing me. I really suck at tones man." Steve says as the two of them seem to be the only ones clicking right now. And god Eddie was freaking out inside that Steve Harrington was next to him right now talking to him like this.
Eddie throws his hands up happily as he thinks he's finally found someone who understands him. "Finally! I'm not the only one who finds it difficult to figure this shit out. I genuinely can't tell if I'm being talked to as a friend or as a freak for not leaving my trailer in weeks." He huffs as Steve offers him more chips. Steve nods his head in understanding as he hums a bit as crumbs fall on his shirt.
Where you can read it
It’s also on ao3 but it’s a pain in the but to link lmao
But I just updated chapter four and will be updating chapter five soon. It currently has 18,000 words so it’s not short short. Also note that it was written before volume two came out
#stranger things#bxb#steve x eddie#steddie#steveddie#steve harrington#steve stranger things#steve and dustin#steve and eddie#eddie and dustin#eddie munson#eddie#eddie stranger things#this is post season four
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i have a head cannon in my head that because tony is smol he stands on literally anything when in an argument with someone. he just climbs and starts yelling back.
out in public? stands in the hood of a car
in the workshop? stands in a bench
at the office? swipes everything off a dash and stands on it.
in the kitchen? he will stand on the countertop/table, “fuck your food i have to make a point here.”
Listen, if his friends weren't all fucking giants, he'd be able to argue like a normal person. It starts at MIT because younger and therefore smaller than everyone else. He gets into an argument with Rhodey over the theoretical metabolisms of hobbits and Rhodey is towering over him yelling about enzymes and Tony WILL BE HEARD so he climbs onto the table and just starts bellowing about gut flora. They get kicked out of the cafeteria for the rest of the day. One time Maria was getting on Carol's case about her cheating at racing and Carol goes to get Tony onto her side first because he's a hothead who's easily swayed and when Maria tells him that he's fallen right into Carol's trap, Tony climbs on top of Carol's car and screeches until Carol admits that it's true. Somehow Maria and Carol are both amused by this.
Happy walks in on Tony standing on his desk shouting at Pepper about profit margins and he's about to tell Pepper to give him time to calm down but then Pepper is also climbing onto the desk to continue yelling at him and he has to run in and stop Tony from putting a chair on top of the desk so he can be taller than her again. Then he has both Tony and Pepper yelling at him because apparently he should have let Tony be an idiot. This is why Tony pays him so much. He deserves it.
And it doesn't help that his friends get taller as life goes on. Steve was bad enough, but then THOR showed up, and he's even taller. Most mornings the rest of the Avengers walk into the kitchen to find Tony on the breakfast bar shouting at Thor because he CAN'T keep drinking all of Tony's special French roast he NEEDS to leave some for him and Thor contending that it's fine because he literally makes an entire pot to replace the one he drank. Steve keeps frantically moving the bananas he's cutting up for his smoothie as Tony begins pacing and keeps doing so until finally Thor plucks Tony off the counter and just holds him up so he continues being taller. It 1) takes no effort, Tony weighs the same as a couple of grapes and 2) Tony is not offended so long as he doesn't sink lower than three inches above Thor. Natasha posts this on Twitter and then blames it on Bruce and as it turns out, Tony is willing to climb into the vents and then hang back out to yell at the Hulk, who looks absolutely bewildered by the turn of events. Natasha posts this on Twitter as well. Most people are more boggled by the fact that Steve doesn't learn and start cutting his bananas elsewhere but Steve is stubborn and also Tony hasn't stepped on a banana yet so what's the problem.
One time, during post-battle cleanup, Tony tries to shout at Bucky for doing something reckless, but every time he climbs a car or other debris, Bucky just follows him up. Finally, Tony marches over to Steve, scales him, and then directs Steve over to Bucky by the ears. "AND ANOTHER THING," Tony continues, and both Steve and Bucky sigh in dismay. Thor makes himself scarce because he doesn't want to be around if Tony decides he needs to be even taller, because it looked like being led by the ears had hurt Steve quite a lot.
Anyway, it all comes to a head when Natasha gets into a vicious disagreement with Bucky in Russian and she climbs onto the back of the couch to continue yelling at him and Bucky just sputters and says, "Who do you think you are, Tony?!" and Natasha drops onto the couch and stares at the ceiling for an hour in silence because oh God, oh fuck, she was turning into Tony. Then she decides she doesn't care. because clearly Tony had the right idea and she'd just never realized before, leaps up onto the back of the couch in one swift move, and continue ranting at Bucky in Russian. Besides, she can elbow drop him better from there.
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The habit part 2
@jtargaryen18 30daysofchris2020
'How could you let your self be so foolish ' you kept telling yourself all night along .With the tears, throwing pillows (anything you could get your hands on ) around . Needles to say , you didnt get any sleep again and you see if being that way for a while .
After a long day of advoiding Steve in the gym , you dont think you have ever worked out more in your life , your knuckles were close to bleeding, many times Bucky had to keep telling you to stop. It wasnt till night fell you could truly let your emotions out . It wasnt till you caused a loud sound that echoed though the tower , when you though your lamp . When Nat and Bucky came to your room and looked after you again .
The morning air was quite and cold , Nat and Buck had went to go and get breakfast as you stayed your room to get change . You felt numb as if your soul was gone . You dont know why you feel like this, you cant help it , but it's not like you two were anything . You were just stuiped to catch feeling for something he probably seen has he being nice . That why it makes it feel so worst , you cant be mad . How can you ? Its Steve the most kindest human with those stuiped blue eyes . The only person you should be mad at is your self .
Turning a corner you felt half asleep . In zombie mode . You were looking at your feet which were slowly making there way forward when you collided with a wall and fell straight on your ass . "God ,y/,n you in there ? Someone tired this morning?" Arrr great clint , your never gonna live this down
"Ass !" You said getting up.
"Well you just fell on yours " clint laught walking into the kitchen "ha guy ,guess I didnt know we had a zombie in the compand?" He shouted annoyingly to group of people that were all around the table as he sat down .
You begin to walk over not amused by Clint or anyone , when you notice there was no seats left . Everyone was in there own conversation, talking about the most stuiped morning shit . You quickly glance maybe there might be one seat . No none . You looked at steve he had the biggest smile on his face, laughing as hes arm was behind Sharon was was snug against his side smiling. In your seat . Your chest tightened again . But you didnt know what more for a the fact no one saw you, Sharon and Steve or that fact . YOUR seat was taken . You have never felt so alone and pushed out of the group like you dont belong. There were all happy, your dark mood would just worsen their day , if they even knew you were there .
You turned to the kitchen and got a bowl , some cereal you randomly picked up . And turned around to walk out the room . As you left you heard to echoes of laughter as you made your way back into your room with clouded eyes . It wasnt till you reached outside your room you looked at the bowl . You forget the milk . 'Wow y/n good . Oh what the fuck I'm not even hungry!'you thought as you though the bowl toward the wall opposite your door . You just watched it smash into pieces, going all over the follow , watching the cereal slip every where ,bouncing along the corridor . You just stared at it , feeling numb , not even feeling bad for making a mess you are not going to clean up . You just thought what a symbol for your heart . Your not even sure you have one anymore .
You entered your room , slowly as if you were scared to move to fast .
"Friday " you called out .
"Yes Miss y/l/n ?"
"Dont let anyone in my room ..." you began " if anyone even comes looking " you whispered the last part .
"Do you intend to stay in here to day miss ."
"Yes I'm staying "
"Are you sick ?"
"Of life " you mumbled "no I just want to stay in here " you said more firmly.
"But miss you have training with Captain Roger's at 10 am "
"Cancel it ! ... in fact cancel all my sessions with him , change it to either Barnes or Romanoff!"
"Cancel ! ... Captain Roger's has been informed and his new partner will be miss Carter under his request " she announced , now that stings " I'm sorry miss but Barnes and Romanoff already booked their session and theres no changing.."
"I'll do it my self then .."
"M'sorry miss you cant ..."
"I can !"
"Its not saf....."
"It doesnt matter anyway Friday , I'll do it my self , Its not big deal , and if anyone ask I'm out !"
"Okay miss "
Silence. Silence fill the room , bring pain to your ear drums . You walk toward your bed and lift the covers and plop your self in between the cover , pulling the blanked over your head . You let out a loud sob as your head hit the pillow , mufling the sound as cold tears stream down your hot cheeks . You feel like you cant breath between the weight of the sheets over your head and your sobbing.
This was your new habit
You feel your eyes become heaving as your breath become even more irregular and tear ducts dry , you felt your mind wonder into darkness .
○●○○●○○●○○●○○●○○
'BANG!'
You jumped a wake , 'god what time is it?' Your mind was pounding much like the door , adrenaline though your veins
"Y/n ?" Bucky , okay so you know that voice . Your mind still fuzzy from walking up
"What's going on ?" You hurned another voice outside 'Tony ?' You think
"Is everything okay ?" Your heart stopped ' Steve ?'
"NO ITS NOT !" You heard Nat .'god is the whole team outside.
"What the matter " great Sharon
"Nothing to concern you " bucky anger shown in his voice .
"Ha Buck calm down no need to be like that to my girl " Steve defended .
"Oh fuck off would ya " Bucky shout " y/ n please open up !"
"Bucky calm down " Tony yelled over Bucky ."Friday open the door "
"I'm sorry sir I cant "
"What ! "
"Dont you think we've tried that tony "Nat now sounded worried "y/n I know your in there "
"Miss y/n is out " Friday said .
"See she out ! No need to be like this " steve
"No she hasn't left the compand I check to carma s , have you even seen her today ?" Natasha now sounds on the verge of tears , while you sat still on your bed scared to move.
"No .. no I havnt , she cancel our session " Steve voice wavered in panic " is shes okay?"
"Maybe shes sick , Friday is y/n sick ? " Tony ask .
"Of life sir " Friday respond ,great she heard that.
Gasp were heard out side , you ran into the bathroom scared as if you were a child in trouble you sat your self on the floor, knees tucked under your chin , rocking back and forth , more tears rolling down , how is more tears even possible at this point?
More ponding at the door. "Y/n please tell me you haven't done something stuiped ?" Bucky sounded as if he was near to crying , with considnt pouncing at your door . "Please!!" He shouted at the top of his lungs " open the door "
"She just probably being dramatic " you heard sharon wining voice .The next thing your heard was a loud shudder as somthing hit the floor , followed by screams of "NAT ! " "ROMANOFF!" "NATASHA !"
"Say that again and I'll kill you "
"Nat stop " steve switch to his cap voice "open the door y/n .. come on this isn't funny "
"Leave now "Bucky challenged Steve .
"No not until I know shes okay !" Steve challenged Bucky .
"She will be when you leave !"
"But ..." Steve began
"Why do you even care ?" Bucky shouts
"Because I lo....."
"Steve please " you heard sharon crying.
"Oh babe ...come on .. Nat apologise!"
"Over my dead body ... now every one leave " nat voice filled with authority.
"Okay !" Followed by foot steps heading the other direction.
"Y/n everyone's left it's just me and Buck , open up , we ain't mad just worried open up please or at least let us know your okay?"
Silence . You dont know how long . But it was just silent .
In a low whisper your voice barely cracking though the thick abosant of sound " friday inform them I'm okay "
"Of course miss " friday respond.
Silence again . Once again you wernt able to measure the amount of time due to your fuzzy mind .
"Okay. Come out when your ready , eh ? Just know your not going to push us away " bucky said
"And what did a bowl of cereal ever do to you eh " Natasha let out a small laugh . Which caused you to make a small chuckle.
You found strength and wonder to your door slowly ,pulling it open to reveal two very red eyed worried assistant. You wander how you can make two of the most deadly people in the world near to tears .
"It didnt have milk" you put on a small innocent smile .
Bucky grinning down at you with Natasha on his side even smiling more . "There she is "
#captain america#chris evans#steve rogers#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader#steve rogers au#fanfic#comics#steverogers#steve rogers x reader#30daysofchris2020
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"i'm too tired for this."
Written for @harringroveweekoflove 's prompt "Bed-Sharing". I also posted this to the collection on AO3.
This is the first time I'm participating in an event/writing challenge and I'm really excited! I don't really know what else to say here. Soo… enjoy these 1.4k words full of fluff~
It's winter. It's winter and they're on a class trip. In a small town in the middle of fucking nowhere. Billy doesn't exactly hate it, but he doesn't particularly like it either. ...Well okay, maybe he does hate it.
Their teacher originally promised that they would go somewhere sunny and warm. Billy was already super hyped because he thought he was going to be sitting on a beach and maybe surfing... It could have been so good. But then the teacher announced that they would be going to somewhere else, somewhere cold and decidedly not sunny. And on top of that, now Billy has to share a room with the one and only Steve Harrington.
As in: The guy he's had a crush on since he first saw him at that stupid Halloween party. Also the guy he beat up that one night when he was looking for Max. He still hasn't really apologized for that, but somehow they managed to form some sort of friendship that's not really a friendship. At least they don't really hate each other anymore.
Billy still has this stupid crush on Steve that won't go away no matter how hard he tries (he's kind of already accepted that it's actually way more than a crush at this point but in Billy's opinion nobody needs to know that).
❀
Now they're in the elevator to their floor together and Billy's trying really hard not to stare at the boy in front of him. It's late, they're both tired and just want to get to their room so they can sleep. When they reach the correct floor, Billy takes a deep breath and steps out of the elevator ahead of Steve.
He has the keys, so naturally he should be the first to arrive at their room, right? He reaches the door a couple seconds before Steve and unlocks the door to reveal a generic looking hotel room. Billy steps into the door frame, looks around and just stops dead in his tracks. Steve almost walks right into his back and suppresses a swear.
Then he sees Billy's face. Steve immediately grows concerned. "Uhm... Hargrove? What's wrong?"
Instead of answering, the blonde just steps aside so Steve can take a look too. He does, and he reacts just like Billy expected. "Whoa, okay. There's... there's only one bed."
Billy just kind of shrugs in response. "Yeah, I know." Then he sighs and turns to look at Steve. "Well, I suppose one of us is gonna have to sleep on the floor..."
Steve nods in agreement while he sets his bag down next to the bed and waits for Billy to do the same. He offers to let Billy take the bed, but the blonde can't bring himself to do that - not when he knows that Steve almost fell asleep on the train and should sleep in an actual bed.
"It's fine, you should take the bed." Billy gestures in Steve's direction. "I'm not that tired anyway."
❀
Billy goes into the bathroom first, to take a shower and get ready. When he steps out, Steve's already set up a makeshift bed on the floor. He smiles at Billy, an awkward smile, and explains: "Didn't wanna sit around and do nothing, so..." He gestures between himself and the bed. Billy nods at him as a thank you, which prompts the brunette to get up and head into the bathroom.
Billy flops down on the 'bed' (it's more like a nest of blankets, but that's okay) and tries to get comfortable. By the time Steve's done in the bathroom and opens the door Billy has managed to position himself in a way that doesn't feel too bad. He gives the brunette a tired half-smile and yawns.
Steve chuckles softly at that and decides that it's time to sleep, for both of them. He climbs into bed, turns the light off and whispers a small "good night" in Billy's general direction. When he gets a groan in return, Steve turns around and closes his eyes. He falls asleep with a faint smile on his lips.
❀
A few hours later Billy wakes up with a start, barely able to contain the scream that desperately wants to come out. He's breathing hard and his heart is beating irrationally fast. He doesn't remember what his dream was about, all he knows is he won't be able to fall asleep again. At least, not when he's on the floor.
So he decides to do something he'll probably regret in the morning.
He'll get up, check if Steve's awake and then just climb into bed with the other guy. But of course that's easier said than done... Billy gets up and gets closer to Steve's bed. He notices nothing wrong, but then Steve takes a sharp breath and he almost flinches. Billy's surprised eyes flick up to his face and he discovers that the other boy is staring straight at him (thank god for the faint light that falls through the curtains).
"What are you doing?" Steve demands to know. Billy sighs and whispers back: "Had a nightmare, couldn't fall back asleep so..." He trails off and looks away, fixates one point next to Steves head. "So?" Billy takes a deep breath. "So I thought maybe it'd help if I could sleep in the bed... With you?" His heart starts beating faster again, but for a different reason this time.
❀
Steve raises one eyebrow. He doesn't do anything else, just looks at Billy with his raised eyebrow as if he's expecting him to burst out laughing and to say that it's a prank. But the thing is - it's not. Billy actually wants to sleep next to Steve.
Steve is starting to get slightly annoyed after a few seconds of Billy staring at him silently. So he thinks this through really quickly and honestly? He just wants to go back to sleep. Without starting a fight. Also, it might be nice to have someone to cuddle - not that Steve would want that, of course.
He sighs, defeated, scoots closer to the wall and lifts one egde of the blanket. "Okay, okay! I'm too tired for this. Just- Come here, alright?" Billy looks at him like he's grown a second head. "Are you serious?" "No, Billy, I'm just saying this because it's funny…. Obviously I'm serious! Now come here."
Steve fully expects Billy to just turn around and go straight back to his pile of blankets, but that doesn't happen. Instead, the blonde actually gets into the bed next to him. Steve's a little surprised, but he doesn't let Billy know. And he feels like he shouldn't, considering he invited the other boy and everything.
❀
In the morning, Steve wakes up and the first thing he sees is blonde hair. A lot of it. It's kind of tickling his nose and he moves his face away before he sneezes and possibly wakes up Billy. He gently untangles their legs and somehow manages to get his body out of Billy's grasp without waking the younger boy, who apparently decided they were cuddle buddies in the middle of the night.
Steve finds he doesn't mind, it's been warm and comfortable. In the next moment he almost does a double take because he realizes exactly what he's thinking there. Then he just shrugs and decides he doesn't care. So yeah, Billy's hot, and he noticed it - so what?
But it's not just that Billy's hot. He's also genuinely trying to be a nicer person since that night at the Byer's. (He hasn't really apologized yet, but Steve knows he's deeply sorry and has already forgiven him in his mind). And he's pretty tolerable if he's nice! Actually, more than that if the way Steve's heart flutters in his chest every time Billy laughs is any indication.
Steve heads to the bathroom to shower, brush his teeth and - most importantly - fix his hair. He gets dressed a couple minutes later and walks back into their room.
He looks over at Billy and sees that he's still fast asleep in the bed, his head buried deep in the pillows. He looks a lot younger like this, and vulnerable. His hair is fanned out around his head, almost like a crown. It looks pretty and soft and Steve… Steve wants to touch it.
Billy's snoring softly now, and Steve can't help but smile at how cute he is.
#harringroveweekoflove#harringrove#stranger things#billy hargrove#steve harrington#bed sharing#fanfiction#fanfic
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you put me back together after a long time apart
Here, have some feral Billy and some bed sharing. Blame @hartigays, I don't even know.
Steve is there for both parts, Billy's death and his rebirth and he isn't sure which sight is worse - watching Billy get stabbed again and again and again by that thing, that monster made from parts of townspeople, people he knows, knew, knows. Watching as the monster slams its big, horrifying, pointed tentacle-like arm straight through flesh, through blood, through bone, hearing that bone crack, hearing Billy's bones crack, practically feeling it in his own chest as the thing spears straight through Billy's ribs, straight through, Steve's sure, his heart and there's so much blood, so much -
And watching, after the battle is over, watching Max take off running, running and crying, screaming the name of a brother she barely knew, barely, Steve thought, loved. But the way she's carrying on you'd think they'd been raised together since birth, thick as thieves, thick as -
The blood all over the floor that Steve slips on as he runs for Max, goes to grab her and drag her away, but instead kneeling by Billy's side and putting a hand on his neck, feeling for a pulse and feeling his own heart stop when there isn't one, when he knows for sure -
Billy's dead.
He isn't sure if that's worse, or, or, if it's worse seeing Billy come crawling up out of the dirt late one Sunday night while he's out wandering in the woods, smoking and thinking and thinking and smoking, wondering for the thousandth time what exactly it is he's supposed to be doing with his life when suddenly there's this noise, like a groan, only deeper. When suddenly there's an arm reaching up out of the dirt and more groans, and Steve should be scared, a smart person would be scared right now, but instead he's running towards that hand. Instead he's crawling over the dirt and dragging whatever it is that's attached to it up and out and it happens to be attached to Billy Hargrove and Billy, he's… he's wearing the same bloody, dirty, filthy white tank top as he was the day he died, with that golden chain and that pendant still around his neck and the second his eyes land on Steve he starts screaming. He's screaming like he's dying, and Steve, he doesn't really know what the fuck he's doing, so he just starts screaming right back until Billy stops and then at a loss for any better idea he grabs Billy by the hand and starts running for his car and shoves Billy into it.
And again, not able to come up with any better ideas, he drives them to his big, empty house and forces… forces Billy freaking Hargrove into the shower with his clothes still on, hoping that Billy has enough sense to know how to take his clothes off, enough sense to… to… to know how to use shampoo.
It doesn't seem like he does, though, because he just stands there, letting the water hit him with his clothes still on, like he doesn't even move, so Steve has to do something, he has to, right?
"Okay, um," Steve says, voice going embarrassingly pitchy, "I'm coming in? I mean -" Steve sighs. "I don't want to -" and wow, that's a blatant lie if Steve's ever told one, "but I'm not getting the feeling you can manage this by yourself and your hair seems pretty matted, so…" That part, at least, is true. Billy's hair looks like it has about five pounds of dirt in it and half the contents of the forest floor, so Steve takes off his clothes but leaves on his underwear in a last ditch attempt at modesty and he steps into the shower with Billy.
Billy, for his part, just stares at him and the weirdest part is, it isn't blankly, no, this is the sort of stare that's much, much worse - this is the sort of stare that's like… like… like Billy's looking at him like he's the whole world, like somehow Billy wished and dreamed upon a star and the only thing he could think to wish for was Steve. Like Steve is all his wishes and dreams come true.
And that's a pretty stupid thing to wish for, all things considered. Like, really, of all the things in the world you could wish for, Steve would not put himself anywhere near the top of that list. Or probably even on that list at all.
Still, the whole thing has Steve standing there, gawking dumbly at Billy as his underwear gets soaked through and Billy's clothes start to get so wet they almost start to get clean again. Billy's hair, though, his hair is still a mess and noticing it spurs Steve back into action with a quickly blurted, "So!" and a fumble for the shampoo bottle located on the shelf just behind Billy's head.
Gracelessly, Steve squirts some shampoo into his palms and starts working on Billy's hair from the bottom up because if there's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it's hair, and he knows that with long hair this damaged, this knotted, you need to start from the bottom up.
And Billy… Billy just keeps staring at him like he's everything, making every hair on Steve's body stand on end, so Steve starts trying to think of anything, anything else, but he can't. He actively, literally can't focus on anything but the feel of Billy's hair between his fingers - it's coarser than he thought it'd be - and Billy's still just staring at him and Steve might not want sex, not with anyone, not ever (not that he hasn't tried a few times, anyway) but he definitely wants something from Billy right now.
Still, somehow, he manages to avoid doing anything, manages to finish washing Billy's hair, manages to get all the tangles out just before the water starts running cold. And neither of them, not that whole time, says a word. And still, Billy stares. He stares and he stares and he stares and Steve starts to wonder if he's broken.
He's probably broken.
Like he just came back from the dead, maybe he should be broken.
But then, as he's reaching around Billy to turn the water off, a worse thought occurs to him. They're going to have to dry off. And Billy's clothes are soaked.
"Uh," Steve says, pushing his own wet hair back out of his face. "You just hang out here for a second."
-continue reading on a03-
#harringrove#gideonwrites#asexual steve harrington#asexuality#steve harrington#billy hargrove#canon but gayer verse
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Title : Stuck Between A Rock And A Hard Place
Word Count : Honestly who the hell knows?
Warning : Sad Bucky, sad Steve, you can see it from the request.
A/N :
Alright so i already posted this request but Tumblr somehow deleted it. So i had to do it all over again. Well thankfully not the story, i fortunately wrote it in the notes, i learned that lesson the hard way. Anyway along with a story the request itself was deleted. So i think this is how the request went, if it was your request message me if it was wrong. Also i had a really hard time with this request, i don't know why i just wasn't inspired, well probably more tired from college than inspired, but that's why it took so long. I wanted to do it right. Also for anyone else who send me a request i saw it, and i will right it as soon as my obligations allow me some free time. Also i did the P. O. V. thing so don't get confused. Okay, enough rambling, i hope you like it. And also i believe there was a compliment in the request for gif usage, thank you for that. 😘😘😘❤️
Request : Can you do a fic where you and the new agent are getting closer to the point where the team suspects that you are falling out of love with Bucky? (angst to fluff).
Steve's P. O. V.
As soon as he saw her enter the kitchen Chris was out of his seat smothering her in a hug, but Natasha and Steve, hung back and watched with frowns on their faces.
They stayed quiet during their conversation occasionally sipping coffee.
Their stubbornness and Steve's persistence in making sure both him and the team stay out of this complicated and deeply personal situation, rendered them mute, as they stood there cold and stoic, as they sipped on their coffee.
Many would say the intimacy in the embrace, those gentle smiles, and completely unnecessary gazes they were curently being subjected to were highly inappropriate and Steve would have to agree with them.
The more he watched, the more sorry he felt for his friend. But no, Steve wasn't angry at her, he was hurt. How could such a sweet girl be so uncaring? No one deserves this kind of treatment, his friend the least. He's been through so much already, Steve thought you out of all people understood this.
He lost so much, did he have to lose you too?
You were the rock that kept thing moving, a force anyone could fall back on if needed to be. And you want to abandon it all, for this Chris, a man you barely know compared to his friend.
Steve knew he was letting his feelings cloud his judgement, and you haven't really done anything but spent time with a man you claimed was your friend, a man that was your partner. He knew he spent just as much, if not more time with Natasha and she was one of his most valued friends.
Also, Chris seemed like a nice guy, the kind of man if you were still single he'd advise you to go for.
But that's it, you weren't single. In fact you were in a committed relationship with the most important person in his life.
He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he didn't know what to do. Invade his best friend's privacy or let his best friend be hurt when he could at least cushion the blow.
One more look at the 'lovely couple' and he decided, privacy be damned, his friend deserves honesty at least and he was gonna make sure he got it for him.
"Steve.." a voice trailed off cautiously, he looked over the see Natasha leaning on the counter facing them, with her head turned towards him looking at him.
"I know, Nat." he knew he shouldn't have snapped, it wasn't her fault. She sighed.
"Steve it should be one of us, I know it sucks to hurt him like that, but it's even worse if he caught them, and we knew but didn't tell him."Like always the redhead was right, but he still tried to reason with her.
"But she hasn't done anything yet Natasha, we can't make things up when they didn't happen."
She rolled her eyes at his statement. "Yes, Steve, she hasn't done anything, yet Steve. The key word being yet. Come on, Steve! They've known each other for only two months, and they are joined at the hip. If you think Bucky didn't notice you are mistaken. Dude's been giving her the kicked puppy eyes for days now and she hasn't even noticed choosing to ogle at her new beau. This calls for revenge! "The redhead took a deep breath and said.
" He is your best friend Steve, if the rolls were reversed wouldn't you like him to say something? "
Steve didn't respond, it wasn't necessary, they both knew the answer. Instead of pushing him, Natasha gently squeezed his shoulder and left him in the kitchen to think it over.
An hour later Steve was letting out his anger on a punching bag. The more he thought about it, the more conflicted he got.
This wasn't his relationship but it was his friend. Thou you were his friend too, after Peggy's death you along with Natasha were there for him, hell you've spent the whole day making jokes just to make him forget.
You were like Bucky, the Bucky from before, not just before The Winter Soldier, but before the war. The guy that got him in a lot of trouble and the guy that stood by him and protected him when he took a bite too large to swallow.
The man that took him to many unsuccessful dates, his companion, his family, it's what drew him to you.
You were a sense reality in the world that no longer made sense, a familiar face in a strange place.
Although he wanted to protect his friend, he also felt oddly protective of you. He couldn't betray your trust, but he couldn't betray Bucky either.
Why did this has to be so hard? He thought and punched the punching bag so hard it ripped and fell few feet away.
"What did that punch bag ever do to you?" Said a man Steve was successfully avoiding since this morning.
"Oh, hey Buck. What's up?" he said trying to act nonchalant. "I could ask you the same thing. Why are you avoiding me? Did i do something?" Bucky demanded.
"I'm not avoiding you." Steve mildly shrugged. Glaring at him he got closer almost to his face. "What the hell is going on?"
Steve could hear the anger in his voice, but also hurt, trying to protect him he's the one that ended up hurting him.
"Nothing, Buck." Steve said. "Listen here, punk!
"It's bad enough the love of my life could possible be cheating on me right now, now i can't even trust you!? What the hell man?"
Steve looked at his best friend, his eyes were puffy, tears threatening to spill, but he refused to let them fall, he had dark bags under his eyes, he hasn't been sleeping well, his hands shaking in anger, this was a man already hurt.
"Look i wanted to tell you about her, but I didn't want to betray her either so I've been ignoring you both so i don't hurt anyone. I guess that ship sailed." He said, his friend deserved honestly at least he can get it from him.
"You think she's cheating on me?" asked Bucky. "I don't know, man. I did not see her so anything, from all we know we're just making stuff up."
Steve frowned, even thou he shouldn't do it now, he was defending her. "You're a good friend, Steve. But i didn't ask what you saw, i want a yes or no answer." Bucky said.
"Why do i matter, why are you asking me? If you really wanted to know you'd ask her. But you're asking me because you know i will never give you that answer. So why are you asking me, Buck?" Steve demanded.
Bucky glared at him, before he grabbed his shoulder giving him a smile." You're a punk, kid."Bucky said, paused to inhale and exhale before continuing." It's because i don't really wanna know. I love her, Steve. If fact i love her so much that even thou, she 's literally ripping me in half, my brain is still finding a reason to forgive her. That she loves me and it's all a mistake. I'm pathetic."
Bucky lowered his head, squeezed his shoulder again, let go and turned to leave.
At the door Steve voice halted him in place.
" You're not pathetic. You love her. Knowing you my whole life, you were never soft on a dame like that. I'm sorry it had to be like this."
Without turning around Bucky whispered. "Me too." And left.
Steve could see it bright as day this man was a mess. He had to do something, you might be his friend, and it wasn't his business , but he was about to confront you.
Steve knew you, you were not a coward.
He would get you to tell the truth, perhaps it wasn't too late. You need to be honest and you might even work it out with Bucky.
Taking his phone out of his pocket he texted you to meet him in his room.
Your P. O. V.
After the workout Chris suggested you go to the diner you always go after a successful mission.
"Come on it's been some time since we been there." Snorting at that statement you replied. "We literally went there two days ago."
Groaning Chris whined. "Exactly, too long, come on i know you can practically taste those fries and that strawberry and vanilla milkshake you like. Eh, it will be fun and if i may say so i make great company."
Although the offer was tempting, and you really could taste those fries and that delicious milkshake, you had to go home to your boyfriend.
You missed him so much, and judging by those sad eyes he's been giving you he missed you just as much, if not more.
The missions you were being sent on this past month left little to no time for your relationship, and now having to prepare for an undercover mission of great importance and you weren't allowed to speak about it with anyone according to Maria, you were forced to spend all your free time with Chris.
Well forced was a harsh word, Chris was a great man and an amazing partner, but he wasn't your boyfriend.
"Sorry gotta take a rain check." You mumbled apologetically. Chris smiled and pulled you in for a hug.
"Hey i get it, if i had a hunk like that waiting for me at home, i wouldn't even bother talking to you. Scram, kid." You arched an eyebrow on chuckling. "Is that so? "
"I'd fuck him."
As you were nearing your apartment your phone buzzed. Looking at the screen you saw you had a text from Steve. Opening it read' We need to talk, met me at my place'.
Steve was not the best texter but he never sounded this urgent and formal. If this was about the mission he would have asked meat at The Tower, this was personal.
Something was wrong.
All it took was three knocks to be met with Steve's hard gaze, he stood aside allowing you to come in.
"So we need to talk?Are you breaking up with me Steve?"A light-hearted joke that was meant to brighten the mood was met with a glare. Okay, not the right crowd.
"Listen, i know it's non of my business and you're my friend, but this needs to end. What the hell is going on with you and Chris? "
Steve asked firmly before placing his hands on his belt buckle. You knew that stance, you've seen it a million times, it was meant to frighted and send a message that he met business.
You never thought you's see it being used on you. But you weren't so easily scared.
"You're right, Steve it's non of your business ." You replied defensively. Who was he thinking he could question you?
"You're right, but i don't care. I'm the one who has to watch my friend heartbroken when you leave with Chris, so excuse me if I'm a little protective. Just don't. Own up to it." Steve said.
"Own up to what, Steve? Heartbroken? My Bucky? What the hell is going on?" You demanded. You have done nothing to Bucky. What the hell is he talking about?"You hurt him and..." Steve began but you cut him off. "Hurt him i haven' t even spoken to him!" You piped up.
"Exactly."
Bucky's P. O. V.
Knowing he couldn't stay cupped up in his room with all those thoughts swearing in his head Bucky decided to take a walk, and by walk he meant a run, muttering angry at nothing and panting wildly.
He wasn't sure if he was panting because he was tired from the aggressive run or the work his mind put him through.
He decided the latter.
As if he was cursed to suffer today, he ran into the last person he wanted to see. Chris strolled up to him, a bright smile on his face, as if he wasn't the cause to his misery. Some nerve on this guy!
"Hey, Buck right?" he said to Bucky holding his hand for him to shake. Bucky just looked down at it frown.
"Not a hand shaker? Alright, i get it. I'm getting used on it myself.Also some say it's unhygienic."
What pissed of Bucky even more was that Chris wasn't even fazed by Bucky unfriendly stance. This guy!
"Anyway i just wanted to meet the man my partner won't shut up about. I mean that woman's got you on a pedestal you'd think your shooting rainbow out of your ass."
Keep rubbing salt to an open wound, Bucky though. This dude was something else.
"Look man, i don't really know her for that long, but she's kinda grown on me. She's one heck of a woman. She means a lot to me and... " Bucky cut him of. "I can imagine." He remarked through his teeth.
"No, you really can't, she has been there for me after the war, you know when you get back everyone keeps walking on egg shells around you, it's a strange place, even the bed feels wrong, too soft. But she made me feel human."
Suddenly the anger for the man was gone and all that was left was confusion. Chris was a marine? It would explain his posture.
" She's not afraid to hold me, i thank God or whatever is out there everyday for a friend like her. "
Bucky knew what he was talking about oh to well, she made him fell the same. She was comfort, she was peace, she was his home.
" Why are you telling me all of this? "Bucky asked.
" Because I'm not blind, i know a jealous man when i see one. She holds me because it helps me relax, not because she is in love with me. Don't even try to deny it. I know what it feels to love her, but you know what it feels like to be loved by her. If anyone has the right to be jealous, it's me. Don't screw this up, man. See ya. "
Before Bucky even had the chance to process what Chris had said, he turned and ran the other way.
Walking into your room you felt oddly nervous. You didn't even know it but you've made the man you love, a man in doubt.
He now questioned your love and you did not even notice. Sure you saw a bit of sadness but regarded it as him simply missing you.
Not a man heartbroken and riddled with insecurities. He probably hasn't even slept right and you didn't see it.
There was no reason for your fear, the room was empty, no Bucky in sight. Footsteps in the hallway made you turn around. Walking out of the room you followed the footsteps into the hallway, outside your apartment, down the stairs and only when you were outside did you catch the glimpse of the man of our.
Gathering enough courage you called out Bucky who at the sound of your voice turned and froze.
The tension was high, you could feel it in the air as you stared at one another.
Just as you opened your mouth to speak not even knowing what to say Bucky crossed the distance, grabbed you by the back of your neck and kissed you.
It only took you a second to respond, the kiss was desperate, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance, while hands roamed all over, pulling, squeezing.
Pulling away for air you kept your eyes closed. "Tell me you love me." Pleaded Bucky, making you feel even more guilty.
Opening your eyes your hands sneaked themselves around his neck pulling until your forehead touched his own.
"I'm not sure about a lot of things Bucky. But there is one thing i am sure about and that is that i love you, James Buchanan Barnes, i love you and i always will. I'm sorry i ever made you doubt my love. "
"No, i am the one that's sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you in the first place. I got so stuck in my own head. I'm sorry. I love you so much, doll."
"I love you. Let's just forget about it and agree that from now on we will talk about this things. No holding back. "
"You're right. From now, we talk. But please be patient with me. And do me a favor, will you."
"Anything."
"Don't quit on me. I know it can be hard to be with me sometimes, but I love you as much it is possible for this broken man to love. "
"You're not broken, just bent. And don't act like I'm a walk in the park, i know i can be frustrating. But this is a relationship, we work together, we compromise, we fight, we make love. We don't quit on each other, we fight for us."
"I love you."
"And i love you."
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Marvel hasn't done Iron Dad right, tbh. That relationship was all Tom and Robert. Literally half of their scenes were improvised. If anything they did it dirty by having Tony have another kid while he shouldn't trust himself with another one. It's good that they eventually made it the reason why Tony wanted to fight again. But he really shouldn't have ever quit fighting. At the beginning it sincerely looked like he'd given up on Peter and I hated that to the bottom of my heart.
Imma have to disagree with you there, bud. Like really REALLY strongly.
I may have a lot of issues with Endgame and with Marvel as a whole - but Ironfam is not one of them. The ONE thing they have been driving home since Homecoming is the parental/father figure role Tony has been stepping into with Peter. While yes, they improvised a few scenes, the guidance came both from the directors and from the script (s).
Homecoming was a whole ass movie pal, and they didn’t improvise that. They were given a script and were given guidance and direction from Jon Watts and - more importantly - Kevin Feige.
Watts has spoken about how in Homecoming the relationship starts as Tony becoming the reluctant/out of the blue mentor because after CACW Tony begins feeling personally responsible for Peter. BUT Tony has his own issues and getting too close freaks him out. He is there for Peter, but he does so in helicopter mode.
AND YET, the script is the one that lets us know that Tony has been hearing all of Peter’s voice messages and knows about the churro lady. The script is the one that let us know that Tony knows Peter’s schedule down to the hours of when he has band practice. The script is the one that has Tony be there again and again to catch peter every time - so by the end of the movie there is a natural relationship evolving.
In Infinity War, we get tidbits as well - peter telling Tony he was at “the field trip” meaning Tony already knew what field trip, which lets us know they have been in constant communication. Peter understands Tony’s sarcasm in battle - something that was scripted - which in turn lets us know this is a)not their first time doing this b) they are very comfortable with one another.
The Russos have been saying over and over again how they envisioned Tony as this father figure for Peter, and that this kid was the closest Tony had to a son. If they tell US that then I can assure you they told their actors BEFORE filming their scenes. RDJ and Tom are good - they are very good - but they work with what they are given.
Meaning: if the director tells you that you are filming a scene where the kid you view as the closest thing you have to a son, is dying, then you are gonna take that into consideration when performing. Similarly, the Russos told Tom that they wanted him to showcase that Peter was just a kid, scared, crying out for help - and since Tom knows the importance of Tony Stark in Peter’s life, he was able to channel all that into the performance.
Directors aren’t just there to get the actors to read the script; directors often let actors improvise after telling them what they (the director(s)) want to see.
As for endgame: Why wouldn’t Tony have more children????like wtf does “he shouldn’t trust himself with another” even mean??? Tony is not to blame for Peter’s demise. Even if he had stayed in New York he would have been snapped away. And while I am sure Tony felt crippling guilt and depression for losing Peter that doesn’t suddenly mean he is not worthy of having other children.
Also you can love more than one child!!!at the same time!!!! Tony having a beautiful relationship with Morgan is not a dig against iron dad and spider son, if anything it enhances and pays homage to that relationship. why? Because Peter helped Tony grow. Peter made him try to be better - as a father figure, and as a person as well. Peter made him realize what it is like to love unconditionally and to be afraid for one’s progeny. Peter made him remember that there is still good in the world at a time that Tony was very jaded (re: Steve’s lies).
So the fact that Tony is great with Morgan only solidifies the fact that he cared for Peter.
“he should have never quit fighting” Why??? Why the fuck shouldn’t he have quit fighting????? Thanos ERASED the stones. There was NO WAY for them to do ANYTHING. Tony did the ADULT thing and moved on as best he could because he had a wife and a daughter to take care of. We know FOR A FACT that he was still mourning Peter - he had a picture of the kid in his kitchen for fuck’s sake, a picture which he clearly treasures and looks at.
Accepting that someone is dead does not cheapen one’s love for them.
There was NOTHING Tony could do. literally absolutely nothing he could do. Peter was gone and that was the reality Tony had to accept. Him not looking for ways - when there are literally NONE - does not mean he did not love Peter. Scott gave them new hope - a hope they hadn’t even thought about because. time. travel. did. not. exist.
Tony grieved and missed Peter for 5 years, but he had a daughter to take care of and a daughter to love. He did the right thing. There was NOTHING left to fight. Thanos was dead and the stones were gone. Tony was DONE. His job was DONE.
Why didn’t Tony want to help them? Because the chances of everything going to hell were too. damn. high. Tony, at first, truly believes Scott’s plan is absolutely insane and has 0% chance to succeed.
HOWEVER, We see Tony looking at the picture of peter and only THEN does he decide to try to crack time travel - for Peter. He makes a message for Morgan - because he truly believes he might die BUT he goes on this mission ANYWAY for Peter.
When they get the stones, he only asks that they spare his daughter by bringing them back to the present time. The ENTIRE fucking movie is about Tony’s sacrifice and ultimate love for his children. His character arc is that of selfless love - and that includes the love he had for his children. He loved them and protected them both. We see his pain over Peter’s death - which hello was scripted - and we see his love and joy in BOTH his kids.
He smiles and his eyes get teary as he hugs Peter TWICE because he has his kid back. And he loves and smiles and dotes on Morgan because she is the miracle he always wanted.
So in conclusion: One of the few things Marvel has done right is the relationship between Tony and BOTH of his kids and you cannot tell me otherwise.
#genius runs in the family#endgame spoilers#just no#I will shit on marvel for everything they fuck up on#but I will not shit on them for things they have not done wrong#Anonymous#answered
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