#steve is a spy
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No Romeo, But He’s My Loving One-Man Show
Mirror Sex, Roleplaying for Days 9/10 of @harringrovekinktober additional incidental praise kink, edging, fledgling D/s dynamic, cum play, slight feminization
(roommates, kink experimentation, billy is a femme fatale but really just a very good boy, nsfw)
Handy Links to Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Steve had expected Robin to have some pointed feedback after coming over for dinner and a horror movie—a longstanding tradition Billy had inducted himself into a couple days post move-in by rescuing the pizza from a crispy demise because someone forgot to set a timer—but when Steve met her for coffee later that week, all she talked about was the mirrors.
Why are there so many? Why are there more every time I visit? Do you know how many years of bad luck you’re risking? That old one with the fancy frame is definitely cursed—I saw something moving in it. No, it wasn’t us—something else. Like, out of the corner of my eye. It’s haunted, Steve—you should get rid of it. Don’t break it, though, whatever you do.
Finally, after much redirection and pointed questioning, she’d given her assessment on the Billy situation, specifically how Billy seemed to feel about Steve, from an outside perspective.
Mostly you both seemed normal, aside from sneaking looks at each other constantly. But even that’s normal, in a way. Her eyes narrowed. Is that why so many mirrors? More opportunity for sneaky looks?
Which—what? No. That wasn’t why—though he’d be lying if he said he’d never… But what did she even mean, that even that’s normal?
Well, like when we watch movies and something funny happens, you always look at Billy to see his reaction. And when the special effects are corny, he always looks at you and rolls his eyes. And when we’re all three hanging out, half the time it’s you and me trading knowing looks from inside jokes, and half the time it’s you and him. So, like—the looking isn’t new, I just caught you guys doing it without the other realizing it. Like a bunch of times.
Rather than deny it, Steve found himself asking, pathetically, how Billy looked. When Billy looked at him.
Like this, Robin said, and made the biggest, dopiest cow eyes, complete with dreamy sigh, reverent tilt of the chin.
Steve told her to fuck off, but couldn’t repress the grin splitting his idiot face, and Robin cackled.
Ask the haunted mirror, if you don’t believe me! It’ll totally back me up.
.
It’s not like they’d planned to make the apartment a fun-house mirror maze, but after the divorce, Steve’s mom went a little nuts selling off stuff from the Hawkins place, all of which was apparently unsuitable for her townhouse in Chicago, and when his dad made a stink about her disposing of hideous heirlooms intended for Steve, she’d promised to forward their son the remainder.
Which was how he ended up with the couch, complete with decorative throw pillows, and… about six ornate mirrors of varying unreasonable size. And sure, he could’ve sold them himself, because his dad didn’t actually give a shit, but then he’d sorta grown used to them, and Billy had never complained, so… yeah. Made the place feel bigger, or whatever.
Over time, the arrangement had shifted here and there—except for the one in Steve’s room over the dresser, the one in the bathroom over the sink—anyway, however it happened, Steve had noticed, one day, that he’d subconsciously mastered where to position himself throughout the sitting room to see a reflection of the kitchen, the bathroom corridor, and… Billy’s room, if the door was open—and, these days, it usually was.
Did he feel like a creep? Well, yes and no. Yes in that he was aware he should feel like a creep, and therefore did, and no in that he was almost certain Billy knew he was watching and didn’t care. Not only didn’t care, but… liked it.
After his conversation with Robin, though, he threw all subtly to the wind, staring fixedly at Billy’s reflection as he puttered around in the kitchen, as he left the bathroom, as he lounged in bed reading a book… silently daring Billy to call him out on it, until Billy did.
“Feel like a bug under glass,” he called, turning a page. “You gonna pin me down?”
Humming, Steve resettled against the arm of the couch, didn’t bother turning—just kept admiring him in the mirror leaning against the wall, almost floor to ceiling. The bedside lamp cast warm shadows, limning his hair in gold. Steve wondered if Billy got tired, holding the book above his face like that.
“I was thinking more like a spy tailing a mark.”
Billy laughed—a short bark of sound. One of Steve’s favorites. “Be dead so fast—made in seconds.”
“You saying I’m more Get Smart than Napoleon Solo?”
“Dunno,” Billy mused, thoughtful. Rolling, he made a pillow of his arms, crossed over the closed book. Leveled Steve a filthy smirk. “If you were 007, I could be your Bond Girl.”
That got Steve to turn around, meet his gaze direct, then cooed, all sympathy: “You wanna be tied up, babe, just ask.”
Billy bit the inside of his cheek, unwillingly amused, so Steve dialed up the cheesy charm.
“C’mon, that was good—Bond Girl? Like bond—”
“I got it,” Billy drawled, levering himself up only to flop against his piled pillows in supposed disgust, book cast aside. “Just call me Pussy Galore.”
“Dick Galore.”
Billy frowned. “Randy Galore?”
“A Bond Boy would have to be Randy Something,” Steve acknowledged. “Or… Something Hancock.”
They paused, then, in unison: “Randy Hancock.”
“And I, James Bondage, am tailing you,” Steve went on, as Billy snickered. “And haven’t been made, because I’m an experienced, accomplished spy—”
“Yeah, yeah, fine.” With a final snort, Billy folded his arms behind his head, semi-reclined, and pondered the ceiling, unfocused. “What next?”
Steve mimicked him, only on the couch, back to watching Billy’s reflection. “I use my handy spy-glass to peer around corners, and I catch you unawares—getting ready for bed.” Billy hummed, polite interest, and waited for more. So Steve gave him more, mind whirring, pulse already on the rise. “I watch you take off your shirt.”
Absently, only shifting enough to complete the action, Billy peeled his shirt off. Dropped it on the floor.
“Then your jeans.”
Those required a more aggressive shimmy, but soon they joined the discarded shirt.
“And then I can’t stop—can’t look away. Like I’m glued to the sight.” Steve’s throat clicked as he swallowed, trailing his palm down his stomach—indulged in a firm rub. “So pretty, spread out on the bed.”
On cue, Billy spread, thighs parting to reveal white briefs, the cotton worn thin, pink showing through where his bulge stretched the fabric. Sighing, a lazy hand skated south, fingers brushing the waistband. Slipped under, but no further. The fingers seemed to press—stalling the hips, an aborted twitch.
“Shit.” Steve wagged his head, corralling what remained of his wits. “I—uh, I figure…” He chuckled, let one heel drop off the couch to rest on the floor, his hand working a steady rhythm. “Figure I’ll learn what you like, use it to seduce you later. Learn how you like to touch yourself—”
Billy grunted, lashes stuttering as he shoved past the elastic, made a fist around the handful. Spoke soft, musing: “Haven’t, you know.”
“What?”
“Haven’t been—touching myself.” Eyes still on the ceiling, Billy’s lips quirked, just as soft. “Not without permission.”
That landed like a punch, loosing a long, meandering moan: “Baby.”
And the baby blues drifted down, met a reverent stare in the mirror. “Yeah?” So innocent, solicitous.
Steve rolled his hips into his palm, arching clear off the cushion. “I like that.”
Billy’s head lolled sideways, downcast—bashful as he squirmed, bulky knuckles straining the front of his briefs.
“My good boy,” Steve murmured. And he meant it with every fiber of his being: “Show me what feels good.”
His eyes fluttered closed. The hand slowed. “You.”
Simultaneous hits—to the heart and the heat low in his gut. A vicious press brought himself back under control.
“God—killing me.” Could barely huff it, all of him locked on the hand that had tugged free of clinging briefs to caress the red weeping cock, featherlight, through damp cotton. Steve’s pulse pounded so loud in his ears he more saw it than heard it—pink lips shaping You. You. You.
As though hypnotized, clumsy because he was so hard it fucking hurt, even sweatpants chafing awful against skin throbbing tender, Steve stumbled to the bedroom door—caught himself on the frame, panting, light-headed from the sudden vertical, essential bloodflow coursing elsewhere.
Billy choked off a whine, fisted the coverlet to either side, legs splayed as his spine bowed, sank back. “Please.”
In a blink, Steve was at the foot of the bed, crawling to him, over him, hips forcing Billy’s legs wide. “I got you.” Long, dragging grind, the rub exquisite. “I got you.”
The moan vibrated through Billy’s flushed chest. He hadn’t let go of the bedding—wouldn’t, Steve realized, winded anew. He wouldn’t let go unless Steve told him to.
“How long?” Steve panted, reaching down to rub Billy with the flat of his palm through the briefs, this jerking, gentle pressure that worked him piecemeal to the peak, a maddening build. “How long you been waiting for permission, baby?”
“Luh—” Billy coughed, swallowing spit. “Long.”
“So good,” Steve crooned. “I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”
The flush had spread up his neck to his cheeks, temples pulsing red. He was nodding, mindless. “‘Kay.”
“All right.” Steve brushed the bulbous crown with a teasing thumb. “Tummy or panties?”
Muffled throaty sound—like he’d been stabbed. Delivered on a whimper: “Panties.”
Steve resumed his kneading rub, coaxing, fine tremors wracking the body at his mercy. “One day I’m gonna get you a nice pair. Maybe something with lace?”
Billy gulped, trembling nod.
“Lace for your pretty cock, a thong for that pretty ass?”
Half-lidded, head craned back, lip bitten raw between his teeth, Billy shivered.
“Make a mess in your panties,” Steve whispered, bending low. “And I’ll make a mess in them, too.”
A burst of guttural gasps, almost hiccups, borderline sob, and he convulsed beneath Steve’s hand, sticky wet seeping through the fabric.
Steve dropped a good boy with every kiss—on cheek, neck, sternum. Lifting up on his knees, he brought out his own cock, stripping it with a loose fist.
Half-boneless, Billy hooked lazy fingers in the back of his briefs, tugging them past the curve of his butt, the front pulled snug against his spent dick, and rolled onto his stomach. Arched, presenting himself, bare ass exposed, and Steve found his groove between plush cheeks, rutting with enough force that he could feel his cockhead rub against that tight hole.
It didn’t take long—short pumps, short of breath—brutish grunt as he finished, coating the pert cheeks in ropes of slick, deploying one hand to catch runaway drips, pet the clenching hole with wet fingertips, tease the entrance.
Billy cut off a whine, squirming, grinding into his own mess, pushing into the pressure behind.
“Soon,” Steve promised. “I’ll give it to you soon.”
An unspooling sigh, and Billy went limp, face turned away.
Planting a kiss at the base of a shoulder blade, Steve drew up the back of Billy’s briefs, smoothing a hand over the sodden fabric—with a wave of heat, imagined the trail of his come oozing toward the taint.
Shifting, Steve curled up along Billy’s side, nose to nose, arm looped around his sloping back.
Billy blinked, placid, as Steve drew a lock of hair away from his eyes.
“Ruined it,” he mumbled, mouth quirked. “The spy scene.”
“Nah,” Steve said. “A good spy knows when to change plans on the fly—switch it up.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” Warming to the idea: “What happened was—I realized I could offer you what you needed. In exchange for what I needed.”
Billy’s gaze was lulling as a lake in moonlight. “What did I need?”
Steve let a smile twitch, nerves singing. “Me.”
An echoing twitch. Lids lowered, a hitch in his tone: “And… what did you need?”
Steve dipped near, heart in his throat. “You.”
Billy hummed, a short burst trapped behind teeth. He nudged close, and Steve’s eyes slid shut.
Press of lips, lingering soft, on the edge of his chin.
.
“Steve?”
They’d been drifting awhile, lying flush, occasional brush of roving hands, warm gusts of breath. Belatedly, Steve hummed, enquiring.
“Itchy.”
He snorted, stretching like a lazy dog. Shower didn’t sound half bad, but there was something else he’d been wanting to try.
“How about a bath?”
Brows raised, pensive duck lips. Steve called his bluff—bowled him over, rough nuzzle, and hauled him upright.
.
Now with added next chapter: What He Does, He Does So Well
#harringrove#harringrovekinktober2k23#roommates in love#sub billy hargrove#dom steve harrington#steve is a spy#billy's his mark#all fun and games#mirror mirrors on the wall
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Eddie, posting to TikTok: Look, I love my husband. I adore this man and I have for the majority of my life. He is the shining star in my sky.
Eddie: And I know. I know he wants to read more this year. And I know that when you’re dyslexic, it can be really difficult and I’m happy every time he accomplishes what he wants but…
*Flips camera to show Steve reading on the other side of the couch*
Eddie, gesturing: What kind of demented book handling is this? That book is bent in half. It’s a hardback!
#Robin in the comments: …that’s my book#my HC is that Steve reads trashy spy thrillers#for the record: I’m not a book purest. treat your books however you want#this is actually based of the time my little sister asked if she could borrow one of my books and I said no and then felt bad so I bought#her the book and she immediately broke the spine. which is fine if it’s your own book but I know she would’ve done the same to mine#eddie munson tiktok saga#eddie munson#steve harrington
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Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson
2.06 | The Spy and 4.06 | The Dive
#stranger things#strangerthingsedit#stedit#steve#dustin#steve and dustin#s2#the spy#s4#the dive#multi#parallels#lex creates#dailynetflix#dailyflicks#dailytvfilmgifs#dailystrangerthings#tvedit#tvstrangerthings#televisiongifs#usertelevision#cinemapix#cinematv#userstream#userbbelcher#chewieblog#idk why that first gif is Like That but we're ignoring#i hope these look alright otherwise
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Me, being bad about being perceived, yet being perceived by tens of thousands of people for my work
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Owen Wilson + headphones
#i wanna apologize in advance in case i missed some#a new gerne i love#owen wilson#headphones#starsky and hutch#secret headquarters#i spy#you me and dupree#the life aquatic with steve zissou#armageddon#filmgifs#moviegifs#films#movies#owfg#my gifs#my gif edit#owilson#owilsonedit#owenwilsonedit
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new art soon i promise i've just been dealing w/ a migraine for the past couple days that's been killing me and preventing me from getting anywhere
#munpost#promise my silence hasn't been used w/o some kind of benefit#looking into how i can start up ko-fi for things and maybe setting up something for making pins or stickers#without it effecting my access to insurance anyway#hard maybe i'm just looking into the process to see if risk is worth reward#also spent this time learning everything about the extent of the flat earth theory from random documentaries on youtube and#steve buscemi was right in spy kids 2
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Rookie Mistake
AO3
17th August 2023
Someone was following him home.
They were keeping their distance at least. But they'd been keeping their distance through the last three turns.
They could, at the very least, try not to make it obvious what they were doing.
Usually someone following him wouldn’t be a problem. Steve was an expert at what he did and losing a person who was tailing him was easy.
Or it used to be anyway.
His back had taken much longer to heal than any of them had expected and he’d been told his chances of walking again were fifty-fifty. Pretty much a coin toss.
But he’d started to get the feeling back in his legs again around the three month mark. While all of it still hadn’t returned and the doctors were unsure if it ever would, he could at least walk again.
He couldn’t move as fast nowadays, though the cane helped. But it didn’t help enough to escape from his followers' sight.
He was slow, he couldn’t run and he couldn’t stand for extended periods of time.
He could walk for even less. Which was probably why Claire at the gas station had kept shooting him concerned glances.
Walking to and from there was pretty much the extent of what he could do in a day.
Barely fifteen minutes there and back, but enough to have him exhausted and trying to keep the pain at bay.
Eddie was gonna lose his fucking mind once he found out. He worried too much. Steve still remembered the first words he heard when he woke up in the hospital.
“If you ever do that to me again, I swear to god sweetheart, I’ll take you out myself.” Spoken through teary eyes and with shaking hands as he reached for him, like if he didn’t touch him immediately Steve would drift back off into a coma.
This was the first time Steve had been home alone for an extended period of time since he'd been recovering. Eddie had looked at him with a stern pointed finger and an order not to do anything stupid.
So of course he had decided he was going to walk to the nearby gas station to pick up some of their favourite snacks.
They were gonna do a lazy streaming binge session later that evening, complete with a blanket fort like little kids, when Eddie got back from helping at the garage with Gareth.
What else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t drive anymore. He didn’t have the strength in his legs for the pedals.
And the gas station was just outside the estate they’d chosen to settle in. Eddie had wanted to be closer to his Uncle Wayne and be able to see his friends again and Steve could never refuse him that.
Except now he was limping home, cane in one hand, paper bag of junk food in the other, with pain and exhaustion shooting up his legs, right into his weakened back.
He could barely even focus on the space around him, he was concentrating so hard on just putting one foot in front of the other and getting home without passing out from the pain, never mind fighting off an assailant.
In his heyday he wouldn’t even have had to think about how he would handle this situation.
Now, however. Now he felt so fucking helpless.
There was a gun concealed in a secret pocket just inside the front door. If he could just get to it, he might make it out of whatever this was.
Even though Steve was on medical leave and Eddie was… retired, old habits die hard. They’d never not be trained to be killers and expect something around every corner.
God, he’d been so stupid. This was so stupid. Eddie would never let him hear the end of it.
Steve would be lucky if he could keep upright once he hit the front door, everything was so painful.
But Steve was well versed in pain. Literally trained in it. Torture, interrogation, field medicine, pushing past injuries to get the job done. Steve had handled it all, always dreading the idea of being put behind a desk. Even now he was determined to make sure that didn’t happen.
No offence to Robin and her job. He’d be dead ten times over without her but it just wasn’t something he could fathom doing.
There was a mentor position opening up though.
Dimitri was retiring to spend more time with his family which meant that Steve could possibly be looking after the new recruits in the near future.
Y’know.
If he didn’t fucking die here and now at the hands of some idiot lacking subtlety.
As far as anyone in the neighbourhood knew, Steve had moved to the area with his husband while recovering from a catastrophic fall, which wasn’t exactly incorrect.
The best lies were the ones that had truth in them.
And the neighbours had all been very… neighbourly. It was a little foreign to him. He was used to growing up in upper class neighbourhoods where he would maybe shoot a quick smile and a hello towards the couple across the road but apart from that, he pretended they didn’t exist and vice versa.
But here, though it was a solid middle class suburb, they all actually spoke to each other.
Bastien would usually chat while he was out walking his golden retriever named Bread.
Lucy and Anthony, a couple in their eighties, knew everything about everyone and gave them the best neighbourhood gossip.
Sandra loved hosting a cookout and invited them every single time.
Even the neighbourhood kids were all very sweet for a bunch of teenagers.
Best of all was their next door neighbour, Chrissy.
She had knocked on their front door with a freshly baked apple pie in one hand and an invite to her big blowout divorce celebration in the other. It was only the day after they’d moved in and Steve had hobbled downstairs to find her and Eddie chatting like they’d known each other forever.
Steve had originally worried they were only being included in these events as the token queers of the neighbourhood. Just so all these middle classers could pat themselves on the back for their diversity but those worries were quickly put to rest.
Their acceptance was quiet. It wasn’t braggadocious. It was sweet.
Chrissy's divorce party had been a wild night full of karaoke, an obscene amount of chinese food and glass upon glass of pink, glittery, fruity cocktails.
All things that Jason had hated.
Things Chrissy loved.
Things she hadn’t been able to enjoy in her own home in years. But now she was free to do whatever her heart desired.
Chrissy deserved way better than Jason anyway.
She had leaned into Eddie’s side and taken Steve’s hand in hers and slurred that she wanted “what you guys have. You’re so sweet to each other. How long have you been together?”
They had made eye contact over her head with raised eyebrows.
The start of their relationship was always a bit of a blurred line.
“Seven, eight years maybe?” Eddie had said, holding her steady with an arm around her waist.
“Really?” She’d asked, blinking her big eyes up at the two of them. “That’s such a long time. Jason and I got married after a year. Don’t do that.” She added, pointing back and forth at the two of them. “It’s a bad idea.”
Steve patted the hand that was held in his. “We won’t. Don’t worry.”
Especially considering they’d already been married two years by then.
As the night wore on and more and more stories had come out about what Chrissy’s marriage had been like, Eddie had offered, with three cocktail umbrellas in his hair and a Pink Lady in his hand, to hunt Jason down and make him disappear.
Chrissy had giggled with a roll of her eyes.
"Oh sure, you big softie.” She said as she lightly swatted his arm. “If he starts calling around unannounced again, then go ahead."
Eddie had smiled, sweet and innocent, but his eyes had been sharp and hard and Jason needed to watch his fucking back.
Steve had been able to convince him to at least give Jason a warning the first time, before he completely wiped the guy from existence.
But only one warning was all Eddie would concede to with a pout and a mutter of ‘You’re no fun’.
If Jason couldn’t take a hint and kept coming around after that, it wasn't Steve's problem anymore.
In general their time in the neighbourhood was nice. It was domestic. The area was safe and sleepy and naive to most of the wrongs of the world.
It was something Steve and Eddie had never had the chance to have, especially considering the start of their relationship had been so… combative.
Which is what made the guy trailing behind him stick out like a penguin in the desert.
He was unfamiliar.
In an ill fitting black suit that looked like something out of a bad spy movie and greasy slicked back hair.
Steve wasn’t scared of him.
He was clearly inexperienced.
Or just stupid.
The guy kept his gaze locked on his target, one hand constantly in his pocket and a look of grim determination on his face.
Obvious.
But he also seemed to be growing in confidence too. Getting slowly closer and closer.
Steve kept his pace slow and relaxed, trying his best to hide the pain and exhaustion he was feeling sinking into his back and down his legs.
And trying to hide the fact that he knew a fucking idiot was tailing him.
If some fucking newbie gang member or whatever was able to take him down because Steve couldn’t help but push himself, he was going to be so pissed off.
All he needed to do was get inside.
Unlock the door, get inside and he’d be able to grab one of their concealed weapons and take care of whatever this was.
Easy peasy.
Or it would have been easy peasy if not for the second guy.
The second guy who’d descended on him just as he pushed his front door open, looping an arm around his neck.
He dropped his bag and his cane, scrabbling against the hold and just barely brushing the hidden gun compartment with his fingers before he felt it.
The sharp sting of a needle in his neck and the cold of whatever it was spreading through his veins.
The last thought that ran through his head before everything went black was that Eddie was going to be so dramatic about this.
He didn’t know how long it was before he woke up but he could take a guess.
It was an empty warehouse he was being kept in, if the bare concrete walls, metal roof and high ceilings were anything to go by.
The windows were right at the top, only letting the barest sliver of orange daylight through.
The sun was low enough Steve guessed he’d only been out for an hour.
The whole place smelled of damp and was shrouded in shadow, the only light being that bit of orange sun and one bare light bulb hanging over his head.
Brimborn Steelworks, he thought.
He could smell the sea air, hear gulls outside, and the warehouse had been abandoned for as long as they’d been in the area so it was a pretty safe bet.
Just outside the circle of light he was washed in, he could hear muttering and bodies shuffling around.
About four by his estimation, along with the sound of metal parts shifting against each other.
Guns.
Fantastic.
Just what he fucking needed.
His hands were knotted behind his back, not even tied to the chair he was sitting on. Who used rope to tie people up anymore?
Aside from certain… intimate circumstances, Steve hadn’t had to deal with rope in ages.
Not since… well.
It was usually zip ties or duct tape that were used.
Much quicker, much easier to conceal in pockets or pouches.
And judging by how he was tied, fingers pointed downwards, inner wrist to inner wrist and just a bit too tightly, these guys had absolutely no experience with ropes.
Kinky or not.
They hadn’t even bothered to blindfold him.
Or gag him.
Eddie would have never been so sloppy. He could’ve done better than this to Steve with his eyes closed and on a Tuesday afternoon.
If he was at full strength, he’d have been able to manoeuvre the weak bindings of his ropes until he was able to tug them free and kick the shit out of the closest guy until he got his hands on his gun.
Then he’d be out of here and on his way home before Eddie had the time to properly spiral.
But he wasn’t at full strength, he could barely even pull against the binds around his wrists, tugged at an uncomfortable angle behind his back.
Not a gentle angle and not at the proper straining points he was used to.
The rope was rough and harsh against his skin instead of the delicious soft bite of the silken binds.
But it was fine.
He wouldn’t be here long.
“He’s awake.” A voice in front of him said.
The accent was mostly American but with the slightest tinge of Russian underneath.
Great.
Two men in ill fitting black suits with their guns held loosely at their sides stepped into the light. The other two stayed behind him, probably as some kind of security or intimidation measure.
Well, it was nice to see them try.
Cute almost.
“Hello.” Steve sighed. “Can you guys tell me what this is all about so we can get it over with, please?”
“Oh,” the one in front of him sneered, “he thinks he’s funny.”
“I think I’m very funny, yes.” Steve nodded, relaxing into the chair as much as he could.
The guy scowled. Clearly he hadn’t learned that sometimes having fun on the job was necessary. Helped alleviate stress. “You’re gonna answer our questions.”
“Sure thing, Drago.” Steve nodded. The guy really did look like Drago. Big meaty head and short crop of blonde hair. “Hit me.”
Drago smirked. “If you insist.”
With an almighty crack he brought the back of his hand down across Steve’s face, snapping his head to the side.
He could feel the blood welling up in his mouth where his teeth had cut into his cheek and the heat from the strike blooming over his skin that would no doubt turn purple within the next day.
God, never start an interrogation with violence.
Fucking casuals.
Steve sucked at the blood pooling in his mouth and spat it at Drago’s feet.
“You’re going to regret that.”
Drago scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “Who do you work for?”
“Scoops.” Steve grinned with blood stained teeth and a nonchalant shrug. “Scoops Ahoy. That little ice cream shop at the mall?”
“Cute.” He sneered.
“Thank you.”
“Maybe you need more persuasion.” A voice came from behind him and a sharp blade was pressed against his neck. “How would you feel if I were to cut your pretty throat?”
Steve ran his tongue over his bloody teeth.
“Do it.”
There was a stutter of movement as the four of them glanced at each other.
“You think we won’t?”
“No, go on, do it.” Steve pressed his neck against the blade which was immediately pulled away. “You think you can get more answers out of my dead body?”
The guy with the blade swung himself around to face him, digging the point into his cheek this time with a snarl.
Steve couldn’t even be bothered to give him a name in his head.
He’d be Knife Guy.
Didn’t matter.
He’d be dead soon.
“Or,” Steve continued, “do you think that I’m going to cower to any more of your threats now that you’ve just shown me you’re not willing to kill me?” He laughed. “Never start with your last resort.”
The tip of the blade was dug in deeper and dragged across his cheek, cutting into his skin but Steve could barely feel it as he distantly heard the sound of tires screeching to a stop outside.
No one else seemed to have noticed.
“We don’t need to kill you, we just need to make you talk.”
“Well,” Steve sighed, grimacing at the hot sticky blood running down his cheek. If he was lucky it wouldn’t scar.
If they were lucky it wouldn’t scar.
“I suggest you hurry up, you’re running out of time.”
The four of them laughed. “You think your buddies are coming for you? We targeted you because you were alone and impeded. You had no safety net around you.”
“You sure about that?” Steve took in each of their faces, all looking so confident in a job well done. “You’re right, my buddies aren’t coming for me. If they were, you could take your time. But as it is you’ll all be dead in about,” he tilted his head, listening for the first distant gunshot, which sounded only half a second later, “three minutes so…”
“If not your buddies then who?”
“You guys seem a little new at this.” He said gently, like he was speaking to children. “Have you ever heard of The Shadow of Hawkins?”
Their blank faces told him all he needed to know.
Fair enough.
It was a fairly obscure name after all.
And a bit ridiculous.
“How about The Demon of Dresden?” He glanced around. “No? The Bloodyhanded? Ringing any bells?”
Steve blinked at them all in bewilderment.
Did these guys know anything?
The gunfire outside was getting louder and closer to their building and the guys around him seem to have finally clued in, clutching their guns tighter.
Like that would do anything for them.
Steve refused to give them a moment of reprieve.
“Really guys? He’s gonna be so offended.” He shook his head, as though disappointed. “Well, maybe you’ll know him by his most famous title.” The last gunshot cracked through the air leaving a terrible silence in its wake. “Kas. The Betrayer.”
Every one of them flinched at the name, the colour draining from their faces as a door slammed open in another part of the building.
“He's trying to scare us.” Knife Guy swallowed. “Kas is dead.”
“He was." Steve nodded. "But you had to go and resurrect him. But here’s another one for you.” He grinned again, blood coating his teeth and leaned as far forward as his bindings would allow him, despite the strain on his back. “Who do you think I am?”
“Why does it matter?" The third guy spat, but Drago had a horrible realisation dawning on his face.
"You…"
“Who?” The fourth asked, whipping his head back and forth to look at the two of them. “Who is he?”
“He… you…” Drago shook his head, his full accent apparent now. “You can’t be!”
“Who gave us our intel?!” Knife Guy shouted at the others, also cottoning on.
“You…” Drago swallowed. “You’re his-”
“Sweetheart!” Eddie’s voice echoed around the warehouse seeming to come from all directions and none all at once.
Knife Guy was by his side in a flash with a fist in his hair and the blade pressed against his throat again.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Steve said, glancing up. “He’s very protective of my hair.”
His fist only tightened.
“Fine,” Steve shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Hey fuckos!” Eddie was still shrouded in darkness, completely hidden from view. “Tying him to chairs is my job!”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh, for god's sake.”
Drago stepped in front of Steve, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest, pointing his gun towards the various dark corners. “If you want your-”
Four loud gunshots rang out, echoing throughout the room.
Steve felt the warm splatter of blood across his face.
Four bodies fell to the floor, a clean bullet wound through three of their foreheads.
Knife Guy, the one who had his hand in Steve’s hair was screaming in agony, clutching his blown apart knee.
“An hour, sweetheart.” Eddie’s figure stormed out of the dark, coming to a stop just in front of him. He still had grease from the garage streaked over his cheek and embedded into the creases on his hands to go along with the copious amount of other people’s blood spattered all over his body. “I leave you alone for one hour and I have to answer a call from a worried Chrissy checking to see if everything's okay because our front door is wide fucking open. How did you go and get yourself kidnapped by Ruskies?”
"Oh, I'm sorry, please continue to tell me how getting fucking ambushed outside our home is my fault."
"It didn’t start outside our home, did it?"
Knife Guy wailed again and Eddie looked down on him with a cold glare.
“Oh, sorry.” He said, not sorry at all. “I must have missed.”
With a simple squeeze of the trigger he put a hole through Knife Guys head and the screaming stopped.
Steve expected Eddie to walk behind him to cut his binds but instead he just swung his leg out and sat himself down on Steve's lap.
"It started at that fucking gas station because you can't sit down for five minutes straight." Eddie pulled a small pocket sized first aid kit out and tilted Steve's head to the side. "Even if fucking Hippocrates or god damned Florence Nightingale rose from the dead and told you to take it easy, you'd still be ignoring their orders." He scoffed as he roughly pressed a butterfly bandage over Steve's cheek. "And you call me the hyperactive one." He mumbled.
Steve winced, glaring at him as Eddie pressed down particularly hard on one strip.
His mouth was still pulled into a deep frown but he stroked his fingers gently over Steve’s cheek, caressing his face with the gentlest of touches.
"You okay?"
Steve couldn't help but crack a smile.
"Yeah baby, I'm good. But they got the angle of my arms all wrong. It's really uncomfortable."
"Hmm. Well as an expert in tying you down to chairs, I'd have to agree. How dare they steal my thing. I fell in love with you when you were tied to a chair."
Steve raised an eyebrow, complete disbelief written on his face.
“Oh yeah?” He tried to bring their faces closer but he was impeded by his bindings. Eddie just gave him a feral grin. “Which time?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Tell me.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Eddie cooed. “No.”
“Asshole.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Would you mind?" He tugged at the ropes again. "My back is fucking killing me."
"Of course." Eddie muttered into Steve's mouth but never properly closing the distance while simultaneously lifting his weight up. “All you had to do was ask.”
With the bindings now gone, his shoulders and arms felt like fucking lead and the blood rushing back into his hands was causing terrible pins and needles.
Eddie was digging his fingers into Steve's muscles, trying to alleviate as much of the strain as he could.
Steve closed his eyes and groaned, his earlier ill-advised trip was catching up with him again and he was dreading having to walk out of this place.
He just wanted to be at fucking home, in his fucking bed with his fucking husband.
Or maybe they could still do that naked blanket fort in the living room with a movie marathon and an obscene amount of snacks.
When he opened his eyes again, Eddie was on one knee with his back to him.
“Hop on.”
Steve grumbled but couldn’t find it in himself to argue, sliding himself forward, slinging his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and allowing himself to be carried off.
Eddie was strong and steady under him, barely flinching as he grabbed tight to Steve’s thighs and stood.
Their walk back was quiet and Steve wasn’t looking forward to the amount of paperwork that would have to be filed as a result of this but he hoped since he was still on medical leave he could get out of it.
The sun was starting to set outside, the sky splashed with brilliant shades of reds and oranges and pinks. Now that he was outside he saw he was correct about where he was being held.
Brimborn Steel Works.
Still got it.
When he turned his head back around to face forward he saw that Eddie had driven Steve's beloved bimmer here.
The driver's side door was flung open and the car was at an odd angle, the direction and darkness of the tire marks behind telling Steve that Eddie had practically drifted into the lot at speed.
There were a few bullet holes in the doors and the passenger window was shattered but it wasn’t the worst that car had ever seen.
Bodies littered the ground around them, all in the same out of date suits Steve’s four goons had been wearing, all with the same guns, all with the same kind of build and all with slowly coagulating pools of blood and brains around them.
Damn.
Eddie really didn’t hold back this time.
Steve looked back at his car.
He couldn’t drive her anymore.
Probably never would be able to again.
They’d talked about trading it in for a model with push-pull controls for his hands instead of floor pedals so he could have that freedom back.
But they hadn’t gotten to it yet.
Eddie had taken his motorcycle to the garage, he would have arrived home with it. Probably seen the front door wide open and a grocery bag on the ground like Chrissy said.
It would have been quicker to get here on the motorcycle.
But Steve couldn’t ride on it.
Not as a driver or passenger.
At least not yet, not until he was further healed.
So Eddie had come here with the car, either because of hope, stubbornness or pure confidence, knowing he would get Steve back.
Steve smiled to himself, tightening his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and burying his face in his neck, peppering little kisses on any skin he could reach.
“You okay back there?”
He could hear the grin in his voice as Eddie lowered him down into the passenger seat, turning on his knees to rest his forearms across Steve’s thighs.
“Yeah.” Steve smiled down at him. “Just… thanks for finding me.”
Eddie straightened up to his full kneeling height, taking Steve's face in his hands.
“Of course, sweetheart.” He leaned up, pressing the softest of soft kisses against Steve’s lips, full of love, adoration, dedication.
Steve could feel it pouring out of him and into his own body.
The gentlest intimacy from a man who could cause so much violence.
Eddie brushed their noses together. “I’ll always come find you.”
“You always say that.”
Eddie hummed. “Because I always will.”
AO3
A prequel fic set in this universe will be dropping next week 👀
@geekymagicalpotato
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#penny00dreadful#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#fanfic#pennys anniversary event#spies au#spy steve#“retired” eddie#rookie mistake#tw guns#tw murder#tw kidnapping#rookie mistake fic
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caught flour handed
For the @steddiemicrofic challenge
Prompt: cake | WC: 311 | G | no CW
A Dustin POV steddie discovery, everyone's fave
Steve has been up to something for weeks. Dustin knows the only way to find out what he’s been up to: sneak in and go through his shit. He’s calling it sneaking too, because if he knows where the key is he doesn’t think it can be called breaking and entering.
He twists the front knob slowly so it doesn’t click in the latch, even mostly deaf Steve always knows when someone’s at the door. Eddie would say crouching before he’s even through the doorway is a dead giveaway that something’s up. But what does he know?
“There are more helpful places your hands could be.” Dustin freezes in place; his hand still on the front door.
“There are less helpful places my hands could be.” That’s Eddie’s voice responding, but his van hadn’t been in the driveway.
“You’re the one that said you wanted cake.” He’s too far from the kitchen to tell, but Dustin would bet Steve has his hands on his hips.
“What if I said I actually wanted beefcake.”
Steve can be a bit of a ditz sometimes, but Dustin can’t imagine him getting cake and that confused. What would beefcake even be, meatloaf?
“I would say you should have said something before we got up.”
“I would’ve but y’know how you get when your mind’s made up, Sweetheart.”
“No, I don’t actually. Want to share, Edmund?”
“Only that delicious cake you’re making.” Dustin can hear Eddie’s feet moving on Steve’s tile flooring. He’s creeping up on the doorway now, but has to assume based on the giggling that Eddie was moving out of smacking range.
Moving even closer, Dustin can see Steve facing the oven. Two perfect, white handprints on the ass of his jeans. “Your child is lurking,” Steve says, “do you wanna tell him what you’ve been doing to his babysitter, or should I?”
#steddie#steddiemicroficaugust#steddie microfic#honestly writing a fic this short is the hardest thing i've ever done#the geography of steve's house is a mystery known only by the duffers but steve can see the street from his kitchen window in this canon#and he watched dustin bike down the street to try to spy on him#steve said i'm not gonna come out it will be much funnier to watch the curiosity kill this cat#anyway dustin gets a piece of warm cake a pat on the head and sent off to never think about what his two favorite almost adults get up to-#-when they aren't babysitting a bunch of 15yos
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Don't you love when a fictional (almost always) non canon couple is a blond dude (bonus point if he's taller) + a dark haired person (bonus point if they don't have a leg/harm and have scars in their face) and their adopted daughter (bonus point if she has powers)
#kazurei#kazuki kurusu#rei suwa#miri unasaka#buddy daddies#danthur#dante aop#arthur cervero#agatha volkomann#ordem paranormal#paranormal order#goldenheart#balister boldheart#ambrosius goldenloin#nimona#erasermic#shouta aizawa#yamada hizashi#eri#my hero academia#loidyor#loid forger#yor forger#anya forger#spy x family#another bonus point if the blond one had was married and his wife died while pregnant#with just happened twice but what the hell#and idk if steve and buck had anyone where could be considered their daughter but if they had/have then I think stuck counts too#i mean lond and yor are kinda considered canon i guess? I'm not sure#and Balister and Ambrosius are 100% canon but they still fit very well in this trope so they count too
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#daisy lowe#got#steve rogers#spy x family#disney#ben solo#thesims4#food sensitivities#vent#ella knox
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What did Dan want?!?
Dan, knocking on the Munson’s door: The HOA says that your car need to be parked in your garage. Not the driveway.
Steve: Dan, not even kidding right now. I will beat you to death with a rake.
#Dan could say or do anything and Steve will hate it#He’s fully convinced Diane is a spying on him but he still prefers that over Dan#and for the record: that’s not in their HOA. they just can’t park on the street#eddie munson tiktok saga#steve harrington
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Owen Wilson + buddy cop genre
#i need more of these movies thank you very much#i gerne that always hits#owen wilson#buddy cop#starsky and hutch#shanghai knights#night at the museum#natm#i spy#ben stiller#jackie chan#eddie murphy#steve coogan#film gifs#movie gifs#my gifs#gif*#gifs
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Runs from Stranger Things Day through the 13th. <3 🥳
#harringrove#stranger things#billy hargrove#steve harrington#harringrove fanart#avalonlights art#it's scorpio season baby#yes that's everything currently in my shop lmao#i felt like walter wick making an 'i spy' page taking this pic lol
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Spies AU - Complete
Part 1 Part 15 AO3
13th December 2015
Kas was dead.
The ghost that haunted the nightmares of Creel’s enemies was dead.
The legend was dead.
The news was met with both disbelief and scorn throughout the underworld.
Kas the Bloodyhanded had not only been real and just as deadly as all the rumours had said, but he had also gone down burning the mansion of the most ruthless and influential criminal boss in modern memory, stabbing his master in the back in the process.
It sounded like something out of a novel.
He had killed his boss for his sweetheart, the rumours said.
It gained him a new title.
Kas, The Betrayer.
People made it a whole romantic thing.
That Kas had found out his next job was to assassinate his sweetheart and he just couldn't do it because he was so in love, he turned on his boss, making sure his sweetheart was safe before he went to Creel’s mansion, the two of them perishing amongst the flames.
If Kas had been legendary before he was borderline mythical now.
Steve wrinkled his nose.
It was all twisted up with a rose coloured filter over the top, sweeping orchestral music and dramatic declarations of love.
The truth of it was dirtier, bloodier, tinged with fear and panic. It was slow and agonising and heartbreaking.
Kas hadn’t turned his back on Creel the second he was given the order to kill his sweetheart.
He had broken into Steve’s apartment and pointed a gun at him and intended to kill him.
And Steve had looked him dead in the eye, knowing that Eddie could have easily done just that.
But Steve also knew, down into his soul, that Eddie wouldn’t hurt him.
Kas might have, but Eddie would never.
He never doubted for a second, even when Eddie did, even when Eddie had thought he could still kill him.
But when it came down to it, Eddie’s eyes had been shiny, his lip was trembling and his hand had been shaking.
He knew Creel was watching him and was listening to make sure he went through with it. Because he suspected that Eddie had gone soft. That this was a line he couldn’t cross.
And he was right, though he didn’t need to know that at the time.
Eddie had shot, but he’d moved the gun, the bullet tearing through the communicator over Steve’s ear, destroying it.
Steve’s vitals flatlined like they had back when he’d taken that baseball bat to the back of the head and his communicator self-destructed.
The echo of the gunshot through Steve’s apartment had no sooner faded than Eddie had collapsed in on himself.
Steve had crumpled to the floor right along with him, wrapping himself around him, unable to break through Eddie’s sobs about how he’d just condemned his people to painful deaths because Creel would find out, of course he’d find out, and he’d make their deaths agonising and he’d make Eddie watch and-
Steve had to kiss him to quieten him, try to calm him down so he could get a word in edgewise.
It was wet and messy and gross but it did the job.
He was finally able to tell Eddie they had his people in their sights, it would just take one phone call to make them safe.
“Call them!” Eddie had his fists curled into Steve’s top, his face was wet and blotchy and red and he stared at Steve, practically shaking him. “Call them, sweetheart, please! I can’t- I can’t lose them, I can’t…”
Eddie broke down again, so Steve just held him tighter. He pulled Eddie’s hair away from his face and tried to continue soothing him, rocking him back and forth. He took his phone out and dialled.
Eddie was still shaking in his arms when he told the kids to eliminate their targets and call him back once it was done.
He held him close and tried to comfort him, to make him feel better, but Eddie was still convinced everything was hopeless.
When Steve tried to get him up off the floor and take him into his safe room, keep him as secure and sheltered and away from Creel for as long as he could, Eddie had refused to move.
He couldn’t hide, he couldn’t run.
He had to go get Robin.
Creel would be keeping an extremely close and suspicious eye on him, just in case he had managed to do exactly what he had just done.
Betray him.
Steve felt the panic starting to kick in again at the reminder that Robin had just been fucking attacked in the office but Eddie told him with a thick voice and a shake in his arms, like he expected Steve to lash out at him, that they weren’t going to kill her.
Creel wanted her.
It was barely a half an hour later when the kids had called back to say Eddie’s people were safe, they’d managed to eliminate their targets with terrifying efficiency, Eddie collapsed all over again. But there were no tears this time, just hyperventilating relief.
He wasn’t sure he believed it at first, Steve could tell from the look on his face, he was both relieved and a little disbelieving. He’d spent so long under Creel’s thumb, thinking that this was all his life was ever going to be until he died.
It was a little difficult to swallow that he was nearly out.
But eventually Steve managed to assure him that it happened. Freedom was just on the horizon and Steve would do anything to make sure Eddie got there.
Surprisingly the most difficult person to take down had been Billy. Steve would have expected it to be Connie, but apparently Billy just refused to stay down. And he played dirty.
All the kids had to come in and help with that one.
But Max had told him she’d taken great joy in crushing his balls and his head under her baseball bat.
In that order.
The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity.
Eddie gave Steve as much information as he could about Creel’s contingency plans and in return, Steve told Eddie about the night he and Robin came out to each other, telling him to use that if he needed her to play along.
Steve had then called Hopper and got him up to speed, getting him to bring in his most trusted Agents to help knee-cap Creel before he could run. Then all that was left was to follow Eddie to the office and then to the mansion at a distance.
He had to admit, it was a lot of dramatic flair to bust into Creel’s office when he did, but he had been given the perfect opening, how could he not respond to being called just a piece of ass?
But then everything had gone to shit.
Robin got stabbed, Eddie disappeared and a corner of the mansion had been blown to pieces, killing four Agents and severely injuring three.
The smoke and flames were only getting higher and Eddie hadn’t reappeared yet.
Hopper looked like he wanted to stop him going back in after he had gotten Robin to safety, but they both knew nothing was going to stop him finding his baby.
Steve had never felt fear like he did carrying Eddie out of that burning building.
Eddie was slipping in and out of consciousness, sometimes speaking, sometimes going completely limp and when he muttered “I love you” with his head lolling against Steve’s shoulder, Steve nearly broke down on the spot.
He tried to stop him, tried to convince the both of them that he didn’t want to hear it now, he wanted to hear it after, he wanted to hear it when Eddie was safe and whole and okay.
But Eddie was insistent and Steve would never be able to deny him anything.
Even as he sat and watched Eddie’s chest slowly rise and fall in his hospital bed, small and fragile and delicate, he knew he’d give Eddie anything he ever wanted for the rest of his life.
13th December 2015
“Um, hello?”
Steve looked up from his curled up position on the chair by Eddie’s bed.
He was met by the sight of three familiar faces peering around the doorframe, Jeff, Gareth and Grant looking in at him with polite masks, trying to hide their confusion about who this tired and worried stranger was sitting by their friends bedside.
“Hi.” Steve said, getting to his feet and wincing at the various cracks his joints let out, giving away that he’d been sitting in the same position for far too long.
Even though he’d been at this job for nearly ten years, it never got any less weird meeting people who had no idea who he was when he knew an extensive amount about them.
He shook their hands as they introduced themselves by name but then hesitated, trying to figure out how to introduce himself.
“Steve.” He said. “I’m his…” he glanced back at Eddie then towards the boys again. “I’m- I’m… his.”
The soft smiles they gave him in response were almost enough to break his heart all over again.
He turned back, gesturing them over to Eddie’s bedside, needing a moment to get himself under control.
Grant seemed to take pity on him, breaking the silence as they all sat down, the great big bear of a man settling himself down gently at Steve’s side while Gareth and Jeff sat at the opposite side of the bed.
“How’s he been?”
Steve swallowed through the emotions and managed a smile. “He’s been in and out. It’s gonna take a few months for him to heal. His lungs and chest will always be moving while he's breathing so it’ll be harder. But he’s really just sleeping off the worst of it at the moment.”
He wanted to reach out and take Eddie’s hand again, but he felt so awkward about it.
Gareth sighed, resting his elbows on the edge of the bed and holding his head in his hands. “We always knew it would be something stupid like this that got him.” He muttered, angry and worried all at once. “I mean, he’s a demolitions expert. Shouldn’t he know not to let a building collapse around him?”
“That’s not fair, Gare.” Jeff’s eyes flicked in between Steve and Gareth like he expected Steve to jump up and start defending Eddie’s honour, but Steve knew people and he knew Gareth was just fucking stressed and worried. He didn’t blame him. It would have been worse if he’d known what actually happened.
Gareth opened his mouth as if he was about to argue back but just as quickly deflated.
“I know. Maybe now Wayne will actually be able to convince him to retire.”
Steve nodded, hoping that he would also be able to convince Eddie to keep himself safe from now on too. But now that he thought about it-
“Where is Wayne?” He asked, realising that he hadn’t seen him yet. “I would have expected him to be breaking down the doors as soon as he heard.”
Jeff nodded. “He would have been if he could have. But there was an issue with his dialysis nurse. Apparently she just up and quit out of nowhere and he’s pissed. So he’ll be in once he has a new nurse sorted out.”
“Oh.”
Shit.
Maybe he should try to help with that. It was the least he could do, really.
“How come Eddie’s back in Hawkins anyway?”
Steve fidgeted with the hem of his sleeves. “Um… that would be me.” He said, unable to meet their eyes. “I thought he would want to be back here with you and with Wayne. I know I was probably overstepping, I’m sorry-”
A warm and gentle hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s okay, man. I think he’s gonna be very appreciative of it once he’s able to tell which way is up.” Grant said, his voice soft and comforting.
Steve gave him a small smile back and settled a little more comfortably in his chair.
It didn’t last very long though, because Jeff looked across the bed at him and asked in a curious voice, “So. How did you two meet?”
And fuck.
They hadn’t come up with any kind of story about that. When would they have had the time? In between running into each other on jobs or trying to scramble for their lives and the lives of their loved ones?
The three of them were looking at him expectantly and he had to figure out something.
“Oh, we uh… I guess it was when… um- so what happened was-”
“Tried to pickpocket him.” Eddie’s wheezing voice came from the bed. Four heads whipped around to look at him as he rubbed his cheek into the pillow, his eyes gleaming in Steve’s direction. “Then he shoved me into an alley and paid- paid me $20 to blow him.” Eddie’s words were stilted and slow, his breathing a little shorter and sharper than usual, not able to move his chest as he normally would but he was coherent and sure.
Steve’s face lit up fire truck red. “That’s not-” He stuttered, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.
He really wanted Eddie’s people to like him and this was not the way to do it.
“‘S how I remember it, sweetheart.”
Jeff and Grant sniggered to themselves while Gareth hummed, placing a hand against Eddie’s arm.
“Did you at least make it good for him?”
Eddie shrugged, just a little jerk of his shoulder on his uninjured side, wiggling around to face his friend.
“Worth every cent.”
Gareth nodded like he expected as much. “Not the worst thing you’ve ever done in an alleyway.”
Eddie grinned back. “Damn straight.”
Steve squirmed in his seat, still wanting to defend Eddie against his friends who were clearly only poking fun and not taking anything he said seriously.
It was the same kind of ribbing he’d get from Robin. Maybe not from the kids, but Robin would be going for his throat in the exact same way, especially if he scared her like Eddie must have done to his friends.
Steve let himself fade into the background, watching the four of them catch up around him.
Despite his pallid and tired face lying in the hospital bed, Eddie looked like he’d been given an injection of adrenaline, alight with energy being back around his friends again.
It made Steve so happy to see he wanted to fucking cry.
With slow and calculated movements, he managed to slip out of the room, mostly unseen. Eddie’s eyes flicked over to him once or twice but there was no fear or apprehension about being left alone in them, just a small ticking up at the corner of his mouth, letting Steve know it was okay, he was well taken care of here.
13th December 2015
Steve stayed gone a little longer than he had meant to.
He’d gotten on the phone with Robin, giving her an update on everything and like the two of them so often did, they ended up completely lost in conversation, it was only when she mentioned the kids had asked about how he and Eddie were doing that he remembered he needed to call them too.
The kids were beyond curious about Eddie, both about how he was healing and how on earth Steve had managed to bag such a badass assassin.
Steve frowned.
“Because I’m a badass super spy?”
“Well yeah.” Dustin agreed with an eye roll that Steve could hear. “We know that but Eddie sounds so cool and you’re just so…”
“I’m just so what, Henderson?”
“You’re just so… like… straight laced.”
“Okay, one: there’s nothing straight about me-”
“Well duh-”
“Two: I am definitely hot enough to bag someone like Eddie-”
“Ugh-”
“Keep giving me lip and I won’t let you meet him.”
“Steve.” Dustin sighed as if disappointed. “Your new boyfriend, partner, lover-”
“Oh god, don’t ever use that word again-”
“Whatever he is to you, is an assassin with a code name from D&D, what makes you think you can keep us away?”
“I’ll use my super sexy spy skills-”
“Stop-!”
“Keep him hidden away from little shithead gremlins-”
“We are all in our mid-twenties-”
“Don’t remind me-”
It went on like that for a while, as it usually did whenever he and Dustin devolved into bickering, neither of them able to get a full sentence out as they poked at each other.
“When was the last time you left the hospital grounds?”
Steve snapped his mouth shut, Max’s voice coming from nowhere through the phone while he and Dustin snapped back and forth, all the kids on speaker phone.
“I… I can take care of myself, Mayfield.”
“Uh-huh. Is that why you’re not answering the question?”
Steve pursed his lips.
“Oh, look at that! I’m going through a tunnel, bye!”
“Ste-!”
He hung up, knowing far too well that the argument that had surely broken out between the kids would take up enough time for him to come up with a proper excuse about why he’d been holed up in the hospital day in and day out and not at the hotel room provided by the Agency.
Shaking his head and seeing evening start to creep in through the windows, he decided some shitty vending machine coffee would be the best option for tonight, getting a second cup of decaf for Eddie in case he was still awake.
As he approached Eddie’s hospital room he noticed the door was now closed and based on his glimpse through the window, the boys had left. Eddie was sitting up though, propped up against his numerous pillows, which was a good sign.
Steve shouldered his way through the door, eyes on the cups in his hands.
“The kids are still crawling up my fucking ass about getting to meet you-”
Steve snapped his mouth shut, noticing the other figure in the room, sitting at Eddie’s bedside, a cane in one hand and an eyebrow raised.
Wayne.
Eddie was glancing between the two of them, not quite apprehensive but not quite gleeful either. Maybe a little nervous.
Steve blinked, still frozen in place while Wayne appraised him.
Eventually Wayne leaned back in his chair, fingers laced over his belly.
“S-Steve.” Steve said, by way of a truly pitiful introduction, like an idiot, given he was still standing there like a fish out of water.
“I know who you are.” Wayne answered, completely impenetrable. “Seems a bit sporty for you, Ed.”
“Wayne, be nice.” Eddie chastised his uncle, who didn’t take his eyes off Steve even as a slow smile curled over his face. “Look at him, the poor guy- s shaking in his trainers.”
Steve huffed, shoving his nerves down and finally getting his legs to start moving again, placing the decaf cup down on Eddie’s rolling table.
“Is this going to be my life now?” He asked the both of them. “Being teased mercilessly by everyone close to you?”
Eddie grinned at him, wide and toothy. “Absolutely.”
Steve threw himself down into the chair across from Wayne. “Well, nothing I’m not used to I suppose.”
Wayne was still smiling at him, his head tilted to the side in a move that was way too familiar, his eyes boring into Steve with an intensity he’d rarely wilted under before but Jesus Christ did he feel like wilting now.
“You’ve got kids?”
Steve felt his ears heat up.
“No, they’re… well the kids- or not kids, they’re in their twenties, but I took them under my wing a few years ago and I guess they stuck around-”
Wayne hummed, cutting him off and nodding his head.
“Ed always wanted kids.”
The squeak that left Steve’s throat was not something he would ever admit to under threat of death or torture, ever, ever, ever.
All his years of spy training, all his years of dedication and subterfuge and unflappable confidence went out the fucking window in the face of Wayne Munson, the most important person in Eddie’s life.
He couldn’t stand to look in Eddie’s direction.
“Oh, I- me… me too, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Wayne.” Eddie said a little more forcefully. “Leave him alone. I just managed to get- get my claws into him, I don’t need you… scaring him off.”
Wayne finally tore his gaze away and Steve felt like he could breathe again.
“You finally gonna listen to me and retire from that job?” Wayne asked, turning to Eddie. “Do something a little less dangerous?”
Eddie smiled at his uncle, eyes flicking to Steve and then back again. “Yeah, I think so.”
1st June 2016
Steve was fucking exhausted.
His last few months at work had been busier than usual, the vacuum of power Creel left in his wake giving all those on the lower rungs ideas about ascending to his level and neither Steve nor the Agency were about to let that happen.
But Jesus Christ, these people did not go down easy.
Steve grimaced as he stepped into the elevator up to his apartment, the small metal box closing him in with his own smell, stagnant water, fish and something oily and greasy.
His clothes were still damp from where he and his opponent had tumbled into the old breeding pool at the abandoned salmon farm and all he wanted to do was fucking shower.
Scrub himself until the top layer of skin was removed completely, fall into bed and then sleep away the rest of the night until Eddie got back from his visit to Hawkins tomorrow.
He was pretty sure he could almost see the cartoon grey cloud hanging over his head, his shoulders slumped, his head drooped and his footsteps plodding as he made his way down the hallway to his apartment.
Steve shoved his apartment door open and was met with a sensory overload.
The sounds of guitar and drums were vibrating through the air and the smell of something garlic and creamy hitting him as he closed the door behind him. The apartment was warm and the lights were already on.
His stomach grumbled so loud, he could hear it over the metal music and he was pretty sure his mouth was fucking watering.
As he stepped further inside, Steve was met with the sight of Eddie practically throwing himself around their kitchen, head swinging back and forth, knees kicking up, fist in the air while something bubbled in a saucepan on the stove.
Darkness imprisoning me
All that I see
Absolute horror
I cannot live
I cannot-
“Woah.” Eddie said as he turned and caught sight of him, completely unashamed about what he’d just been doing, but turning the music down anyway.
Steve watched him, a little dazed, his posture still slumped and probably looking like a damp, kicked puppy.
“What happened to you, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, stepping closer. “Rough day at the office?”
Steve blinked at him, overwhelmed and bone tired.
“You’re here.”
Eddie grinned at him, stepping closer again. “I’m here.”
Steve took a few steps back with his hands up though all he wanted to do was just fall into him.
“I wouldn’t.” He frowned, even as he said it. “I smell like shit.”
Eddie’s brow wrinkled but he still continued to approach. “I don’t care.” He said, even as he couldn’t help the scrunch of his nose. “Is that fish?”
Steve grimaced as Eddie’s fingertips touched his cheek, the thick layer of grime he could feel over him making him squirm.
“Okay.” Eddie said, giving in to Steve’s clear discomfort. “You go shower and I’ll finish up your dinner. Sound good?”
Steve’s shoulders fell again, but this time in relief and he shot Eddie what must have surely been a grateful if not lovesick smile.
“Yeah.” He sighed out.
Eddie sent him off to the bathroom with a wink, the volume of the music climbing again behind Steve as he walked away, though not as loud as it had been.
Steve shuddered to himself as he peeled his clothes off, barely wasting any time between getting naked and throwing himself into the shower, not even bothering to switch it on first.
He could deal with the cold spray until it got warm.
His muscles unwound themselves and his brain finally started to get a bit quieter as the smells around him slowly changed from disgusting fish and old water smells to the soapy fresh smells of his shampoo and body wash.
Steve was no stranger to taking time in the shower, making sure he gave his hair all the love and attention it needed but tonight he stayed even longer, just letting the hot water melt his muscles into a puddle.
He had his forehead against the shower tiles, letting the water hit his back. He didn’t even jump when the door slid open behind him and a pair of tattooed arms wrapped around him to hold him tight, warm and comforting.
“Are you letting dinner burn again?” Steve asked, turning his head a little against the tile to glance over his shoulder.
Eddie was watching him with dark eyes, his lips pressed against Steve’s neck.
“No. I’m keeping it warm in the oven for you. And I’ve only ever burned dinner once.”
“Because you’re insatiable.”
“Because I love you.”
Steve pressed his arms down over Eddie’s, keeping them in place around him.
“I love you too.”
“I know.” Eddie hummed into his neck, not kissing, just dragging his lips up and down with the lightest of touches, lightly trailing his fingers down Steve’s stomach.
Steve tipped his head back as Eddie began to press his palm against him, working him up to full hardness in almost no time and sucking at the skin just below his jaw.
He was just starting to get lost in the rhythm of thrusting his hips forward when Eddie removed his hand, turning Steve by the shoulder and guiding him to lean back against the tile wall.
He watched with hooded eyes as Eddie slowly lowered himself to his knees, barely settling his weight down before he took Steve into his mouth and straight down to the back of his throat.
Steve’s eyes rolled and his head dropped back to thunk against the tiles. Eddie had his hands splayed over his hips, holding him down and Steve dug his fingers into the wet curls atop his head, not gripping or pulling, just resting there, content enough to feel the small bobbing motions.
“Baby,” he panted, tilting his head back down and watching Eddie look up at him with those huge eyes, lips red, cheeks hollow and fully hard. “Touch yourself, please.”
Even though his mouth was stretched around Steve’s cock, he still somehow managed to grin, knowing Steve was desperate to see him enjoy himself as well.
Steve brought his other hand up from where it was hanging limp, using it to tangle his fingers with the one Eddie still had on his hip, holding on tight while he was brought to the edge in record time, spilling down Eddie’s throat embarrassingly quickly while Eddie worked himself in his hand.
If Steve had thought he felt boneless before, it was nothing on what he felt now, his legs shaking and his mind calm and quiet while Eddie stood, just in time to cum all over Steve’s stomach.
He looked down as it was all slowly washed away under the stream of water then back up when Eddie hooked a finger under his chin, guiding him into a slow and sweet kiss, full of love and affection.
“Are you feeling up to dinner?” He asked, soft against Steve’s lips. “Or do you just want to go straight to bed?”
Steve blinked at him slowly, his eyelids feeling weighted down.
“I need to eat.” He muttered.
He’d love nothing more than to go straight to bed, but he couldn’t let all of Eddie’s hard work cooking him food go to waste. He’d never missed a dinner Eddie had made him and he didn’t intend to start now.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want the food Eddie made him, he very much did and it had smelled divine but he wasn’t completely sure he would be able to stay awake through the whole thing.
And he’d missed him.
Eddie had been gone for a few days already by the time he’d been called out on his latest mission and Steve had ached to have him near again. He wanted to be close and he couldn’t force Eddie into bed with him when it was barely even seven in the evening.
Eddie was watching him with those burning and intense eyes like he was picking apart all of Steve’s thoughts and scanning through them, cataloguing them and tucking them away for later.
“Okay.” He smiled against his lips. “You want me to help you dry off and get dressed?”
Steve tipped his head to the side, burying his nose into Eddie’s neck and pulling him in tight.
“I’m just glad you’re home.”
Eddie squeezed him back.
“I’m glad I’m home too.”
25th March 2023
Steve settled his gun harness around his shoulders, so lost in thought he nearly jumped when Eddie rounded the corner and leaned against their closet doorway.
“Something on your mind?” Eddie asked, arms crossed, the black of his wedding band stark against his skin, the only jewellery he was wearing this early in the morning.
Steve nodded, bucking himself in. He took the few steps forward until he was in Eddie’s space, running his hands up and down his arms.
“Do you remember what one of the first things Wayne said to me was?”
A crease appeared in Eddie’s brow to go along with the confused smile on his face.
“That you were too sporty for me?”
Steve shook his head, gripping Eddie’s arms tighter.
“He asked me if I had kids.”
Eddie’s mouth drew into a tight line.
“Not this again, sweetheart, please-” he moved to pull away but Steve held him tighter, keeping him in place. He knew that if Eddie wanted to break out of his grip he could have but he felt a small little bit of relief when he stayed where he was.
“And he said you always wanted kids too.”
“I did. I do. You know I do. But we’ve talked about this so many times-” Eddie sighed, pressing his forehead against Steve’s collarbone. “Your job is too dangerous. We can’t expose kids to that.”
“When I first took in the Party, they were practically kids.”
“They were teens. That’s different. We don’t need kids to have a full marriage.”
Steve nosed into Eddie’s hair, cupping the back of his head.
“But you want them. I want them.”
Eddie just burrowed in deeper. “But we don’t need them.”
“I don’t want to die with regrets, baby. I don’t want to be old and grey and thinking I shouldn’t have let my job get in the way of life with you.” He placed a kiss against Eddie’s temple. “And you’d be so pretty with children swinging out of you.”
That got Eddie to laugh. “Oh yeah, real pretty. You get to swan off and shoot people in the face. Meanwhile I’m back here, trying to handle fucking… Spider-Man birthday parties or something.”
“You’d love it.” Steve grinned, bringing his hands up to cup Eddie’s face, pulling his head back just enough to look at him. “You love being my little house husband.”
Eddie turned his head, grinning into Steve’s palm.
“I do.”
“I’ll talk to Hopper when I get back, okay? See if I can transition over to training duty for new recruits or something.”
“Really? You’d give up your dream position for that?”
Steve dipped forward, pressing a slow, sweet kiss against Eddie’s lips.
“You’re my dream, baby.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, but brought his hands up to circle Steve’s wrists.
“Who taught you such sappy talk?”
“You did.”
Steve brought him in for another kiss, just as sweet and just as loving as the last. They were only broken apart when his watch beeped.
“I have to go.”
Eddie walked him down to the front door, lingering just inside the threshold.
Steve kissed him again, squeezing his hand.
“I’ll talk to him when I get back.”
Eddie nodded, a hopeful smile on his face.
“When you get back.”
A week later Steve would open his eyes to Eddie’s tear streaked face by his hospital bed, whispering to him angry and devastated, “If you ever do that to me again, I swear to god sweetheart, I’ll take you out myself.”
Steve just gave him a weak grin in return, squeezing his hand.
18th August 2023
Steve groaned as he blinked his eyes open. His back was still aching after being amateurly tied to that chair for however long. Being kidnapped was such a drag.
“I want to have kids with you.”
Steve blinked down at Eddie curled up against his chest, the morning light giving him a soft halo of light as he turned his head, chin digging into Steve’s sternum, eyes bleary and tired.
Like he hadn’t slept a wink all night.
“What?”
“I thought-” Eddie tightened his arms momentarily, not enough to aggravate Steve’s back, but enough that he could feel it. “I thought you were gone. For a few terrible moments after Chrissy called… I thought you were gone. And I kept thinking that I’d missed it. I’d missed out on it. That I could never have it again because you were gone and I’d never get to see you hold our baby or push our kid on the swings or help them get ready for their first prom. You were gone and I’d missed my chance and I’d never have it again. I’d been so scared. I was so scared. I don’t want to be scared anymore, I’ve done enough of that in my life.” Eddie’s voice had started to crack and he buried his face back into Steve’s chest.
Steve felt like his heart was breaking.
“Baby-”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was scared. I didn’t think- I thought we’d have more time-”
“Hey. Hey, baby, come here.” Steve pulled at Eddie’s shoulders, unable to drag Eddie up his body but making his wants known. Eddie sniffled into his chest hair but wiggled his way up the bed regardless, burying his face into Steve’s neck while Steve enveloped him as much as he could.
“We have time. We have all the time in the world. Don’t jump into anything you’re not sure about-”
“I’m sure.” Eddie pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes red and his nose running. “I’m sure. I’ve been sure for a while, I just didn’t know how to- I kept putting off telling you, waiting for a better moment.”
“It’s alright.” Steve soothed, running his hand through Eddie’s hair, already knowing he’d give him everything. “It’ll be a big commitment, what with my back-”
Something like hope was starting to dawn on Eddie’s face, as if Steve could have ever thought of denying him anything.
“We’ll make it work. And you can walk again. Plus we’ll be getting your car soon, with the push pull pedals. We’ve fought bigger battles than this before.”
Steve smiled at him.
“Yes we have.”
Eddie kissed him, wet and messy and elated.
“I love you, sweetheart.” He whispered against his lips.
“I love you too, baby.”
Part 1 Part 15 AO3
It's done! Thank you so much, everyone for your support through this story, it's one of my favourites I've ever written and I LOVED how completely unhinged everyone was with me while we screamed about these two boys.
The song Eddie is listening to in the kitchen is One by Metallica, an absoloute banger of a song. It in no way is symbolic or reflective of his internal thoughts, it's just a song that fucking slaps. 😅
@geekymagicalpotato @estrellami-1
Divider by firefly-graphics
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation and of course I also have @steddielations to thank for planting the seed of this idea in the first place with their own spies ficlet so a big thank you to everyone! 😊
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#penny00dreadful#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#fanfic#pennys anniversary event#spies au#spy steve harrington#robin buckley#guy in the chair robin#cat and mouse spy fic#assassin eddie
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Who doesn't love the boosh?
#actors#con air#steve buscemi#adam sandler#comedy film#comedy#thriller#boardwalk empire#fargo#resevoir dogs#pulp fiction#quentin tarantino#grown ups#the big lebowski#the sopranos#monsters inc#hotel transylvania#mr deeds#big daddy#airheads#spy kids 2#ghost world#monster house#boss baby#sandra bullock#nicolas cage#scarlett johansson#jeff bridges#voice acting#tim roth
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Kill For Me Masterlist
A Future Lloyd Hansen x Dark! Reader, Former Steve Rogers x Dark! Reader Series
Main Masterlist
Series Summary: You and Steve are nothing alike. Do opposites really attract, or do birds of a feather flock together?
Coming Soon
#Steve rogers#captain America#Steve rogers fanfiction#Steve rogers x reader#Steve rogers x you#Lloyd handen#lloyd hansen fanfiction#Lloyd Hansen x you#Lloyd Hansen x reader#Steve rogers x dark! reader#Lloyd Hansen x dark! reader#dark! reader#spy AU#enemy agent AU#captain America x reader#captain America x dark! reader#captain America x you#kill for me#kill for me series#kill for me Masterlist#kill for me series Masterlist#masterlist#series Masterlist
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