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fan-fantasies · 2 years

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Fake It

Please comment and reblog! I’d appreciate it!

A/N: I apologize for my absence but life is roundhouse kicking my ass right now. But I’m super excited about this piece!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: smut! Dom!eddie, spitting, name calling (both sweet and dirty- slut), unprotected sex, daddy kink!, creampie, mentions of porn

“Maybe it’s me; maybe I’m broken,” you sighed to Robin. She simply rolled her eyes as she continued to sort through the return stack.

“It’s not you- guys just suck,” she said.

“Hey!” Steve yelled from the back.

“Maybe you shouldn’t eavesdrop then!” You yelled back.

“Maybe you guys should just speak louder!”

“Oh my god, I’m gonna kill him,” you mumbled. “Seriously, Robin- is it to much to ask for a guy to make me feel good? He doesn’t even have to make me cum, just make me feel something!”

“Eh-hem.” The sudden clearing of a throat made you jump as you whipped around to see a flustered Eddie Munson standing awkwardly at the counter.

“Shit!”

“Munson! What’s up, man?” Steve said with a smile, emerging from the back.

“N-not a whole lot. Looking to see if you got any new releases in,” he said, his eyes not leaving you the whole time.

“(Y/N) definitely hasn’t,” Robin mumbled. You threw an empty case at her which she easily dodged.

“Um, yeah, let me check the back. I think I did see some new titles.”

Steve wandered to the back, leaving you flustered in front of Eddie. He stared at his shoes and rocked back and forth, not really sure what to say to you.

“I think I’m gonna go help Steve,” Robin said before heading off. You tried to catch her attention and tell her no but she purposely didn’t look back at you.

She was the only one that knew about your crush on the metalhead, although she claimed it was obvious by the way you became a flustered mess any time he was around. Despite him being one of the kindest people you had ever met, you were always too scared to make a move. So that’s why you settled for less than mediocre dates with far less than mediocre guys.

“So, uh, any plans for the weekend?” You asked, trying to break the horrible tension.

“Just gonna hang out and watch some movies,” Eddie answered.

“Right, right. Of course,” you mumbled, mentally facepalming yourself.

“Why do you ask?” He asked.

“Just curious! I think I’m gonna go see what’s taking those two idiots so long.”

Before Eddie could say anything else, you booked it to the back. You crashed into Robin and Steve who were listening behind the curtain that closed off the back room from the counter.

“What the fuck is taking you guys so long?” You whispered.

“We we’re having too much fun listening to you crash and burn out there,” Steve snickered. “I’m sure if you asked him to hang out, he would say yes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You have Robin a death glare but she threw up her hands.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Yeah, it’s just really obvious,” Steve chuckled. “Here, bring him this.”

Steve shoved you back out there with the tape in your hands.

“Did they get lost or something?” Eddie asked with a small smile.

“Pretty hard to find things when they have their heads shoved up each other’s asses,” you said loud enough for them to hear.

Eddie let out a loud laugh and it made your heart jump up your throat. He looked down at the tape in your hand and reached for it.

“For me?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. You rang him out and handed him the tape. “I’ll see you around.”

“I’m counting on it,” he smiled.

—

“Why are the guys around here so boring?” You asked to no one in particular.

“I’m not boring!” Steve scoffed.

“Yeah okay,” you laughed. “What’s the most adventurous things you’ve done in bed?”

“Well…I… I’ve used a scarf?”

“A scarf?” You repeated.

“Were you cold?” Robin asked.

“No, I wasn’t cold! We used it as a blindfold,” he said sheepishly.

“I highly doubt you’ve blindfolded a girl,” you challenged.

“I never said she was the one blindfolded,” he said with a smirk.

“Harrington!” Robin gasped. Steve wiggled his eyebrows as you fake gagged.

“I can be a…what’s the new term kids are using these days…oh right, I can be daddy.” Steve tried to purr but failed miserably.

“You give off more of a mommy vibe,” you said. “You and your scarf of mystery.”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly kinky, Steve. Grandparents are using blindfolds these days,” Robin added.

“Yeah, why do you think they like knitting so much?” The three of you jumped when you heard the voice interrupt. Eddie stood there with a very amused expression on his devilishly handsome face.

“That’s gross,” Steve scowled.

“Thought it was kinky?” You laughed. Steve rolled his eyes before turning back to Eddie.

“(Y/N), here, was just saying how all the guys around here are boring in bed. Care to weigh in?”

“Steve!” You smacked his arm. “That’s not exactly appropriate to ask a customer.”

“A customer? Ouch. And here I was thinking we were friends,” Eddie said, holding his hand to his chest.

“We are friends,” you mumbled, rather embarrassed.

“Good,” Eddie beamed. He slid his return across the desk. “And I can promise you that not all the guys in this town are boring.”

Eddie sent you a wink before heading back out the door. Your jaw dropped as his words spun in your head. Robin ever so gently closed your mouth for you.

“Didn’t want you to catch any flies,” she chuckled.

“I bet he’s never used a scarf,” Steve grumbled angrily. “Maybe I should take up knitting.”

—

The next time you saw Eddie was at a small get together that Steve and Robin threw together last minute. You weren’t expecting him to be there but he was a part of the group now so you didn’t know why you didn’t think of it.

You sat in the kitchen with Nancy and Robin, lamenting about your recent and pitiful sexual conquests.

“Two dates, two duds- I literally have the worst luck!” You sighed. “I mean, is it too much to ask for a guy to eat me out and spit in my mouth?”

Nancy’s eyes widened as she looked behind you. You froze in your spot, not wanting to turn around.

“H-hey, Eddie,” Robin tried to smile awkwardly. You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath. Why was it always him?

“Hey, ladies,” he coughed. “Mind if I grab a drink?”

“Go for it,” Nancy said.

Eddie moved around you and reached across you to the drinks you were sat in front of. His eyes dropped down to your lips for a split second before moving back up to your eyes.

“Hi, (y/n),” he said loud enough for only you to hear. You swore you saw a smirk on his lips but your mind went into overdrive and you had to focus solely on breathing and not passing out.

“Earth to (y/n)? Can you move so we can grab a drink?” Dustin yelled from behind Eddie.

“I got it, man,” Eddie said, reaching across you again. His body was pressed to your side as he poured a couple drinks for his friends. His scent invaded your senses as you felt the heat from his body blanket your own. You didn’t realize your fluttered closed until he cleared his throat. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered.

“You sure? I could bring you home if you’re not feeling well,” he offered.

“No! I’m good, I swear.”

“If you say so,” he chuckled. He gave you one last look-over before he finally retreated to the other room and you thought Nancy and Robin were going to double over in laughter.

“You know…Eddie might just be the solution to your little problem. He’s probably a freak in more places than just the streets,” Robin said with a wink.

“You’re insane!”

“She’s right! He’s totally into you and everyone knows you’re head over heels for him-“

“What do you mean everyone knows?” You shrieked.

“I’m just saying, you don’t exactly hide it well,” Nancy said. You rolled your eyes at your ridiculous friends and went back to sipping your drink.

You couldn’t get the image of Eddie out of your head for the rest of the night. By the time you got home, you were a mess, and not the kind you wanted to be. You settled into your bed for a long night of frustrating attempts to seek a release, one that never came.

—

“It has to be me; I’m definitely broken. If I can’t even fuck myself how can I expect anyone else to?” You sighed to Robin on the other end of the phone.

“Sounds like there’s something blocking that part of your brain. It’s probably that fact that you’re lusting over a certain metalhead whom you refuse to make a move on,” she said. You groaned and threw yourself back on your bed.

“He doesn’t want me,” you told her.

“You never know until you ask.”

“Yeah well I’m never gonna ask so just drop it. Please?” You pleaded.

“…fine…I’m gonna bring a care package over to your place later and we can hang out and take your mind off of things, okay?” She said.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you later.”

You hung up with your friend and stared at your ceiling. You needed to figure something out soon or you were going to combust.

Hours passed and you almost forgot Robin’s promise to stop over. You were in nothing but an oversized tshirt and your panties, not shy in front of your lifelong friend. When you heard the doorbell ring, you thought nothing of it as you bounded down the stairs toward the front door.

“Rob- oh my god!” You froze as you saw someone who was definitely not Robin Buckley standing outside your door. “Eddie?”

“Sorry…I thought Robin told you I was coming?”

You looked at the bag in his hands, filled with some of your favorite items, and everything started to click.

“I’m gonna kill her,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing! Thanks so much for bringing this for her, you really didn’t have to go through all the trouble.”

You tried to grab the bag from his hand and close the door but his grip was tight and his stance unwavering.

“She also told me I have to stay here and make sure you relax sooo do you mind if I come in, sweetheart?” He asked, already pushing past you and into your house.

“Sure?”

“Folks aren’t home yet?” He asked, taking a look around. You stood dumbfounded in your doorway, his question snapping you back to reality.

“They’re out of town visiting friends for the week,” you answered. You closed the door behind you and went to grab the bag but he stopped you.

“Not so fast, beautiful. I need to quality check the items first.”

You didn’t think anything of it until Eddie started to pull out a wide array of items-

a box of your favorite candy, some lotion, a scarf. You were confused by the selection but nothing mortified you more than what Eddie pulled out next.

“Talk dirty to me, parts one and two,” Eddie said with a huge smile.

“Oh my god!” You snatched the pornos out of his hands and threw them back in the bag.

“Damn, when Robin said you needed to relax, I guess she wasn’t kidding,” he laughed.

“Okay, I’m thoroughly embarrassed and ready to crawl under a rock so you can go now,” you said, trying to pull him toward the door by his arm. He pulled you back flush against his chest.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. That’s no way to treat a house guest, now is it?” The deep rumble of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“N-no,” you whispered.

“No what?”

“No…sir?”

“Good girl,” he smiled. He backed you against the wall, your heart beating a mile a minute. “Do you want me to help you relax?”

“Yes, sir,” you said without even having to think.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Of course,” you said with a faint smile on your lips. You trusted Eddie more than you trusted most people and you knew he would take care of you.

He grabbed the bag and led you to your bedroom. You were nervous, not because it was Eddie, but because part of you really did believe you were broken and you didn’t want to be a disappointment to Eddie.

Eddie must’ve sensed your nerves because he turned to you and grabbed both your hands, looking you in the eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know? We can just hang out o-or I can just leave…”

“No! No, don’t go. I’m just in my head a little, that’s all,” you sighed. He brought the back of your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to it.

“I’ve got you; please don’t worry,” he said. You simply nodded before letting him grab the hem of your shirt and lift it over your head. His eyes scanned your bare torso with nothing but adoration in his eyes. He left your panties on as he laid you down on your bed. You heard the bag rustle and the scent of lavender soon filled your nose.

“Just try and relax, baby,” he said softly. He rubbed the lotion together in his hands to warm it up before gentle squeezing your shoulders and running his hands down your back. He worked your tense muscles under his calloused hands, making you melt almost instantly.

The lower his hands went, the tighter the coil went in your stomach, just begging for release. He worked on your thighs, squeezing your ass in the process. His hands lingered on your ass for a minute before they slid back up to your shoulders.

You wriggled your hips uncomfortably, preferring he would’ve shown your aching pussy some much needed attention.

Eddie got impatient with your moving so he straddled your waist and pinned your hips down with his.

“Just try and enjoy this, sweetheart,” he said.

“I’d enjoy something else a lot more,” you groaned. He hit a particularly tense spot and you moaned as he massaged the knot. You felt him shift, pressing more into your ass. You let breathy whimpers fall from your lips as he started to grind his hips against you.

“Eddie, please,” you whined.

“Please, what, baby? Ask daddy nicely,” he said. The way he said that with no shame, completely confident and in control, made your mouth go dry. He stopped the movement of his hips- “I won’t ask again.”

“P-please touch me, daddy,” you begged.

“I am touching you, love,” he chuckled.

“No, I want you to fuck me!”

He moved back and slapped your ass, making you yelp.

“Watch the attitude before I fuck it out of you,” he warned.

“If you can,” you mumbled under your breath. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back.

“What was that?” He growled in your ear.

“I don’t think you can fuck me that hard, daddy,” you challenged. He let out a dark chuckle.

“Of course you’re a fucking brat,” he laughed. “I should’ve guessed. Maybe that’s why no other little boys in this town could satisfy you. You needed a man to know how to handle you, baby. Is that it?”

His other hand snaked it’s way into your panties; he was delighted to find out just how wet you already were for him.

“Yes, please. I need you!”

“There’s your manners; what a good girl.”

“Mm, yes. I’m a good girl, I’m your good girl,” you mumbled incoherently as he started to rub slow circles on your clit.

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a smug smirk.

You were trying to grind against his hand, trying to get more stimulation but he wasn’t having it. You were flipped onto your back and panties were ripped from your body, exposing your slick pussy to Eddie. He reached over to the bag and grabbed the scarf that you were suspecting Steve had something to do with.

“Since you have a problem with holding still-“ he grabbed your wrists and tied them with the scarf, putting them over your head. “Don’t. Move.”

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered.

Eddie crawled down so he was eye level with your pussy and it was hard not to move with anticipation. You needed him to touch you, to do anything, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to dive in and eat your pussy like a starving man.

“Eddie!” You shrieked. Your hands flew down to his hair and he immediately stopped.

“This is your one warning, babe,” he said as he threw your hands back up.

He turned his attention back to your clit, giving it kitten licks with his tongue. He would tease it at your entrance, only to return to your sensitive bundle of nerves. He was quickly bringing you to the brink of an orgasm, faster than you’ve ever gotten yourself there.

“Fuck, please. Please make me cum,” you whined. “Use your fingers.”

“You’re in no place to be making demands, princess,” he chuckled, his chin glistening. “The only thing going inside you tonight is my cock.”

His words alone were enough to build a fire in your stomach. He gripped your hips and pulled you flush with his face and you were certain he wasn’t even breathing. He ravaged his pussy with his tongue. Your head was swimming but you tried your best not to move, terrified he would stop and wouldn’t let you come. What a cruel punishment that would be- the only man to ever even bring you close to an orgasm only to take it away because you disobeyed.

The closer you came to the edge, the louder you chanted his name. He focused solely on your clit, providing enough pressure to finally push you over the edge. Your body convulsed as a powerful orgasm crashed over you. He didn’t let you go however, continuing to lap at your pussy as you came.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he crawled over your body and you expected him to kiss you but he didn’t. Instead, he tapped your jaw and said, “open.”

Your eyes widened more than your mouth when he spit directly onto your tongue. He didn’t even have to ask you to swallow, just smiled with pride as you did.

“Somebody listens,” you said with a smirk.

“Of course. How else am I gonna please my girl?” He asked. Your brain short circuited when he called you that but you played it cool.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you sighed happily.

“Did you think I was done with you yet? I told you, the only thing inside you tonight is gonna be my cock. So if it’s okay with you, I’d like to feel just how well you take my cock,” he said with a devilish grin.

“Do I get to lose the scarf?” You asked.

“Only because you were such a good girl for daddy.”

He untied you and threw it to the side of the bed. He finally took off his shirt and jeans, leaving him in his underwear. You could see the outline of his cock straining against the fabric and it made your mouth water.

You reached toward the hem of his underwear and he let you take them off. You ran your fingers along his length, as if memorizing every detail.

You leaned forward and he stopped you. Your heart nearly stopped, thinking you did something wrong.

“I just can’t wait to feel your pussy, baby. That’s all,” he reassured you.

“Please, daddy? I just wanna taste you.”

“Are you questioning me? You take what daddy gives you and then you thank him.”

He lined up with your entrance, gathering your slick on his head.

“Daddy thinks quite highly of himself,” you teased.

“God, maybe I should fuck your mouth just to shut you up,” he growled.

“You won’t,” you challenged further.

Without warning, he slammed balls deep into you.

“You’re right. I won’t. Greedy little sluts don’t get what they want. You’re gonna get used however I want. I’m gonna fuck your pussy until you can’t even think of walking. You’re gonna milk my cock until I fill you with my cum.”

You were left breathless at his relentless thrusts but still managed to croak out a moan when he said that.

“Oh you like that, dirty girl? Of course you do. Letting me fuck you raw. You’re gonna let me cum so deep inside you, yeah?” His head fell into the crook of your neck as you raked his back with your nails.

“Daddy, I’m so close. Can I cum? Please, daddy, let me cum,” you cried. Literal tears formed in your eyes as you felt the coil tighten in your stomach once more.

“Shit, what a good girl. Fuck, didn’t even have to tell you to ask permission,” he grunted. “Cum, sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.”

The tears flowed freely as your vision went white and all you could hear was static for a second before returning to reality. Eddie fucked you through your orgasm- trying so hard to keep his rhythm while close to cumming himself.

“Ohh fuck!” A few more thrusts and he was emptying into you, spreading a warmth throughout your entire body.

He pulled out slowly, watching his cum leak out of you, down your shaking thighs, and onto your now ruined bed sheets.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked, wiping the tears from your face.

“Yeah, sorry. That was just…I’m speechless. Phenomenal doesn’t even begin to describe it,” you said.

“You mean it?” He asked. His overconfident facade melted away and it made your heart swell.

“Eddie, that was everything I could’ve asked for and more.” You placed a gentle hand on his face and he leaned into your touch.

“I haven’t even kissed you yet,” he chuckled.

“Did you want to?”

“I would like to kiss you every day if I got the chance,” he admitted.

“I think that could be arranged,” you said before pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“You’re gonna have to learn to obey your daddy then,” he told you.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” you laughed.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. That just means I get to punish you and fuck you ten times harder.”

“That better be a promise, not a threat.”

“God, you’re perfect.” He kissed you again and pulled you on top of his chest. “Get plenty of rest, sweet girl. Tomorrow we’re having a whole date day to make up for this unceremonious rendezvous.”

“We can return the scarf to Steve,” you chuckled.

“And you can thank Robin for setting this up.”

“Yeah…I should thank her…right after I kill her for embarrassing me so much.”

“It worked out, didn’t it?” He retorted.

“I guess it did,” you said with a smile. “Now that I know you can make me cum, I’m never letting you go.”

“I’ll make you cum every goddamn day if it means I get to keep you.”

———————

Taglist: @mellomadness @munsaniac @thebookbakery @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @rafecameronswhore @dootys @tiredwritersworld @lily-sinclair-2006 @dylanobriens-love @moonbeampillgoth @lady-hellfire-1985 @lagataprrr @whore-of-many-hot-men @crimsonsabbath @moldy-khunt @wheaty-melon

Sorry if I missed anyone! I was trying to rush!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things 4

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riality-check · 10 months

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More roadie shenanigans, keeping feedback from this post in mind! part 1, part 2

ao3

It’s before the second show, and they’re already fighting.

“You can’t chicken out,” Gareth says.

“I’m not gonna chicken out!”

“Good, because I’ll tell Wayne if you do,” Jeff says.

Eddie glares at him. “You’re an asshole.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Shut up and get out of here!” Archie says, pushing Eddie toward the tech booth. He complies, but not without another scathing look over his shoulder.

His friends laugh because of course they do. They’re assholes, but, luckily, they’re the same kind of asshole that Eddie is.

He straightens out his shoulders, breathes, and prepares to grovel.

Robin and Steve are setting up just like they were at the last venue. It looks like a mess of cables and boxes from Eddie’s perspective, but Steve and Robin work with ruthless efficiency, alternately talking and signing when their hands aren’t full.

“Um,” Eddie says. G-d, he’s never been this awkward in his life. But this matters, like, really matters to him, and he’s gotta do right.

Neither of them pay him any attention.

“Excuse me?” he says a little louder.

Robin turns around. When she sees him, her expression instantly sours.

“Hello?” she drawls, sounding bored out of her mind.

Steve turns around, too. When he sees Eddie, his face-

Well, Eddie isn’t sure what that expression is supposed to mean. If he had to guess, he’d say mild annoyance.

Mild annoyance shouldn’t look that hot.

“I just wanted to say again that I’m really sorry,” he says, making sure to talk clearly and loud enough to be understood. He’s not an idiot, he knows that shouting is rude, but he makes sure he can be heard over the general chaos of setting up for a new show. “It wasn’t any of my business, and even if I meant well, it’s not an excuse.”

Steve’s face softens a whole lot as Eddie stumbles through his apology, and then he reaches up to his ears to take out ear plugs.

Huh?

“Mind saying that again?” Steve says with a smile.

Eddie is. So confused.

But then Steve laughs. “You should see your face, dude. I got the gist. Apology accepted, we’re cool.”

Okay, that makes Eddie feel better. A lot better. But he’s still confused.

And his mouth always moves faster than his brain.

“Why are you- why do you have- what-”

Robin rolls her eyes fondly. “This idiot,” she says, pointing at Steve, “always tries to do the first show without the ear plugs he needs-”

“Not this shit again,” Steve mumbles.

“-because, as it turns out, your ears do a lot more than just hear. Like balance-”

“You’re one to talk about balance, Buckley,” Steve says, giving her a light shove. She nearly topples over if not for the fact that he immediately grabs her arm to steady her.

Eddie thinks he might know even less than he thought.

“I want to make it up to you,” he says, and Steve and Robin stop bickering.

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve says, and Robin elbows him.

“I want to,” Eddie insists. “What’s your favorite song? We’ll play it at the end of our set.”

Naïvely and terribly optimistically, Eddie hopes Steve might say something that’s already in their set list, or maybe another one of their songs.

From the way that Robin and Steve are looking at each other conspiratorially, he doesn’t think that’s the case.

“No,” Steve says, laughing and shaking his head.

Robin sneaks a glance at Eddie, smirks, and starts signing at Steve.

The only thing Eddie understands about the conversation as their hands move is their facial expressions: Robin with a smirk, and Steve trying desperately not to laugh.

He’s so cute. He gets this little crease on the side of his mouth that Eddie wants to smooth out with his thumb.

Slow the hell down, buddy.

“Fine,” Steve says, throwing his hands up in the air. He turns back to Eddie. “Pretty Fly.”

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Eddie blurts.

Steve’s eyes narrow. “Didn’t you just apologize to me?”

“Sorry,” Eddie says. “It’s just that my bassist and lead singer have been gunning for this song for, like, 6 months. Archie chomps at the bit for fun bass lines, and Jeff just thinks it’s funny as-”

“Slow down,” Steve interrupts.

Right. He talks too fast.

“I’ll play it, but it means caving to my asshole friends,” Eddie says.

Robin cackles. “Told you it was a good idea.”

“Yeah, I love a good bass line,” Steve says. His face is softer again, and Eddie thinks he loves that expression.

He checks his watch. “Soundcheck is soon, so I’m gonna head back. Sorry again.”

“Eddie,” Steve says, and oh.

Eddie loves how Steve says his name.

“We’re good, okay?” he continues, small smile on his face.

“Well,” Robin chimes in. “After the apology song you will be.”

Eddie laughs. He really likes her now that she’s warmed up to him.

“Noted,” he says.

He heads back with a final wave and ducks backstage, where the band is tuning their instruments.

“Well?” Gareth asks, tightening his snare.

Eddie grabs his guitar, closes his eyes, and sighs. “He wants us to play Pretty Fly as an apology.”

“Let’s fucking go!” Archie roars, and Jeff gives him a high five.

“No way-”

“Gareth, I know-”

“You dick-hungry traitor.”

“Hey!”

“The fucking Offspring, Eddie? Punk? Are you shitting me? Punk just because you want a shot with a hot guy?”

Archie starts plucking out the bass line. Gareth throws a drum stick at his head. Jeff beams it back at him and misses.

“It’s one time,” Eddie says.

“Unless your cute roadie likes it enough,” Jeff teases.

“He’s not my anything.”

“Not yet,” Archie adds.

“Not ever.”

“Fucking pessimist,” Jeff says.

A tiny crashing sound makes them all turn toward the drum set, where Gareth is lightly thumping his head into the hi-hat.

“I’m gonna have to do the backing vocals for Pretty Fly,” he mutters.

“Your fault for sounding like a pre-pubescent chihuahua.”

Gareth throws his other drumstick at Jeff. “I’m not begging you for shit.”

“Do it for the bit,” Archie says. “You love doing it for the bit.”

Gareth picks his head up. “I do love doing anything for the bit.”

“Soundcheck in five!” someone calls.

“Thank you five!” Eddie yells back. Shit, he’s gotta tune his guitar.

Soundcheck is a breeze, and, after that, the time flies. Before he knows it, they’re out onstage, playing their usual set list.

Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this. The energy, the lights, the sounds, G-d, all of it. There’s nothing like being onstage and playing until his fingers hurt, nothing like joining in on the backup vocals, nothing like hearing the crowd roar with them.

It’s perfect. Touring is everything he dreamed of and more.

Eddie wants to do this for the rest of his life. They’re gonna headline one day, he knows it, but this is an amazing start.

What Eddie doesn’t want to do is talk, at Jeff’s request.

“Okay, okay,” he says, getting the crowd to quiet down. “We’ve got two more songs. The first one is one we’re playing because I fucked up.”

“And because he finally caved to us,” Jeff adds.

The crowd laughs, but it doesn’t feel mocking. Eddie laughs with them.

“So, Steve, consider this the final part of my apology-”

“And my peak embarrassment!” Gareth adds.

The crowd laughs again, and Eddie sighs, fondly long-suffering. “Let’s do it.”

The backing vocals are fucking embarrassing. Eddie’s with Gareth on that one. They suck, and he feels himself flush for reasons other than the heat.

But he imagines Steve smiling as he watches the show, and Archie is clearly having the best G-ddamn time on the bass, and Jeff is basically cackling his way through the song, so it’s worth it.

They get through it and then their closer without a hitch.

“We’re Corroded Coffin!” Jeff tells the crowd. “Y’all were amazing, so keep that energy up for the other opener and for the main act!”

The crowd roars, the lights black out, and they make their way backstage.

In the green room, on Eddie’s guitar case, is a note.

Apology more than accepted. Here’s my number in case you want to apologize again. Or maybe grab a coffee.

Text, don’t call. In case you haven’t noticed, my ears don’t work.

-Steve.

Eddie has never added a contact faster in his life.

I think I saw a 24 hour diner down the road. Hopefully they have good coffee.

Steve’s response is immediate.

Do you really think I care about the quality of the coffee?

You could be a coffee connoisseur for all I know, Eddie types back.

I don’t know a lot. Hence the date.

Date.

Woah.

Eddie tries to get his heart rate under control and text Steve back. He’s never been good at multitasking though, so by the time he’s able to formulate words again, the lights have gone down and the second opener is on. Steve’s working, and he shouldn’t be bothered.

Besides, Eddie should probably use the time between now and the end of the show to think before he speaks for once in his life.

Yeah fuck it I’ll keep the tag list (or you can follow the shiny new tag #gi;pe au): @vampireinthesun @paperbackribs @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @messrs-weasley @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @omgshesinsane @bestwifehaver @marklee-blackmore @gleek4twd @steddiestains @chaoticvictorianspirit @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @alienace @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @punctualhowell @pluto-pepsi @voidpacifist @sunfloweringstories @anaibis @evillitteguy @hallucinatedjosten @avi17 @b-u-g-g-y @shinekocreator @l0st-strawberry @brassreign @abbiecadabi-blog @rainbow-freckle @gregre369 @rehfan @just-a-tiny-void @weirdandabsurd42 @satan-is-obsessed @honeysucklesinger @coyotepup345 @gayafmermaid @thegingerrapunzel

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steddiealltheway · 2 years

Text

Eddie really tries to graduate this time. And he means really. He asks the whole party for their help, and the kids reluctantly agree that although they’re smart, they’re not that far ahead.

But they find a clear solution: Nancy.

And she tries everything. Flashcards. Acronyms. Word association. Practice quizzes. Textbook problems…

A few hours in, she gives Eddie a tight smile and says, “Maybe you need a break.” She immediately heads down to the basement where everyone else is hanging out.

Eddie sighs because that’s definitely code for Nancy needs a break from him and his multiple failed practice quizzes. He doesn’t stand a chance.

He hears the stairs creak as someone makes their way up. Steve’s head pops around the corner. “How’s it going?”

“Did Nancy send you up here?” Eddie asks.

Steve makes his way to the table and sits next to Eddie while saying, “No, but I did notice the look on her face. She used to try to tutor me, too.”

“How’d that work out for you?” Eddie asks genuinely curious.

“I got a girlfriend and an F,” Steve answers, digging though the papers spread all over the table. He picks up a stack of flashcards and smiles. “Ahh, the infamous Nancy Wheeler flashcards. Color coded by difficulty.”

Eddie fidgets with his rings and bites out, “If that was the case, they should all be the same color. I don’t know, man. I just don’t care. Information in one ear out the other.”

Steve nods in agreement and pauses in thought - if the furrowed brow is any indication. “What do you care about?” Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs, at a loss as to what Steve is asking.

“Dungeons and dragons!” Steve exclaims and throws his arms up as if it’s the answer to all of Eddie’s problems.

“Yeah, I’m not following.”

Steve stands up and starts going through the pile of notes. “This is all for history, right?”

Eddie nods.

“Perfect. All you have to do is treat it like a campaign.”

Eddie’s head spins as he takes in Steve’s idea that actually clicks in his head. He also can’t help but wonder how many times Dustin has ranted to Steve about D&D for him to call it a campaign instead of a “game” like most people do.

“Steve, you’re a genius.”

Steve shrugs. “I’m not sure if you can say that about someone who couldn’t get into college.”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s arm and comments, “At least you graduated high school.”

“I wouldn’t have if I didn’t have the Harrington family name with their yearly donations to Hawkins High,” Steve confesses. He shakes his head and taps the table once before wishing Eddie good luck and making his way back down the stairs.

Eddie gets to work on the abridged version of a campaign.

A week passes before Eddie gets his test score back. He takes a deep breath and glances at the top of the packet.

An A. Eddie Munson got an A.

He also got a note under it that says, “Meet me after class.” Fuck.

After class, the teacher tries to imply that Eddie somehow cheated until he pulls out the pages of planning and notes he had taken in preparation for the test. The teacher easily dismisses him without an apology… bitch.

When Eddie sees the kids at lunch, he immediately shows them the test. It only stings slightly when everyone thinks he’s joking, but the satisfaction of proving them wrong is way more fulfilling.

After school, Eddie immediately finds Steve working at the Family Video.

“Steve Harrington, I could kiss you right now!” Eddie announces to the thankfully empty store. He slams the test down on the counter and beams.

It takes Steve a moment, but then he realizes what Eddie is showing him. “Dude!” Steve yells and scales the counter. “Dude!” He grabs Eddie’s arms excitedly and begins jumping up and down. Eddie joins in.

It’s absolutely childish, and Eddie loves every second of it.

They calm down for a few moments, catching their breath. Then, Steve catches sight of the test again and excitedly yells, “I could also kiss you right now!”

Eddie smiles and easily flirts, “You could.”

And Steve does. Right there in the middle of the Family Video store.

When the two pull away Eddie jokes, “Is this what I get every time I get an A?”

Steve laughs. “If you want it to be.”

Eddie smiles and says, “I’ll hold you to it.”

That semester, Eddie has to convince a lot of teachers that he isn’t cheating before he graduates.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet

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acowardinmordor · 6 months

Text

I need a fic where Steve and Eddie are sorta friends after S1. He isn't talking to Tommy H, so he has to buy his own stash, and since he saw a monster, he's more in need of that stash than before. Steve is still with Nancy, there isn't anything romantic happening between Eddie and him, but they're close enough they have stopped acting like guests at each others place when they're over.

They get way too high the friday before Halloween of 84, and Eddie accidentally outs himself. Doesn't say that he likes Steve, but the pieces are there if Steve wants to connect the dots. Eddie runs for it, and Steve is confused why he ran, but thinks that he should give Eddie some space, since he obviously wants that. Enter S2.

Steve gets a little in his own head about dragging people into the Upside Down crazy. It got Bob killed this time. People die, and the closer people are to the group, the more likely it is that they'll end up in danger or dead. The best case scenario is that they have nightmares and brain damage.

So Steve takes the echoing silence between him and Eddie as a chance to keep him safe. Eddie is terrified that Steve hates him, so he's not going to say anything. Then, Steve shows up to school beaten to shit and single, and Eddie asks if he's okay, what happened, who did this, why.

Steve really wants to loop back to why Eddie ran out so fast after saying that he was 'a friend of dorothy', because he missed it entirely, but asking would encourage Eddie to stay around him, and that isn't safe. He is still a bit concussed, and convinced that if he tells Eddie about any of it, the guy will figure out all of it, and get himself killed. Brushes him off.

Its not until a year later, talking to Robin about queer culture that he understands what Eddie was saying, and why he ran. He also realizes that cutting off contact must have convinced Eddie that Steve was disgusted by him. Steve tries to reach out, tries to catch Eddie after Hellfire, shows up to his trailer a few times. It's late, but Steve wants to apologize and fix that one thing if nothing else.

It doesn't work, Steve takes the hint, and goes back to avoiding Eddie. So, the first time they talk again is in the boathouse.

#steddie #I love steve knowing himself early #but I also love when Steve is too isolated to know about queer stuff #his only context for it is the news and his dad #so he knows its an insult #and dangerous #but there is no way he knows the lingo and cues #Eddie is in the opposite boat #the xkcd comic 'most people only know two or three'#bc at the end of the day #highschoolers don't react great to things that upset or confuse them

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asbealthgn · 1 year

Text

It occasionally happens that Steve or Robin will desperately need each other at suboptimal times of day.

It was like this for a while last summer after Starcourt and now it’s happening again in the aftermath of Vecna. Sometimes, Robin will wake up from a nightmare at three in the morning and ride her bike over to Steve’s house. If his parents are gone, she’ll let herself in with the spare key he gave her. If they’re home, she’ll stand by the pool and toss rocks at his window until he wakes up and comes down to meet her. Other times Steve will be on his second night in a row of no sleep and will drive over to Robin’s house to sneak in through her window.

Tonight is one of those nights.

He parks around the corner and walks towards the Buckleys’ house as quickly and casually as possible. He’s always a little worried about their neighbors spotting him and getting suspicious, but no one has said anything yet.

At this point, he’s perfected silently climbing the trellis and creeping along the roofline to Robin’s window. But tonight, he gets halfway there before realizing that the window is open, soft voices wafting out. He moves closer, staying low, and tucks himself under the window until the voices coalesce into words.

“—I do get it, though,” Robin whispers.

“It just sucks,” the other voice says—Eddie. That’s weird, Steve didn’t know they hung out like this. “‘Cause I know there’s no way he’s ever gonna feel the same.”

Steve wonders who they’re talking about. Who Eddie has a crush on. At least, that’s what it sounds like they’re discussing. And he realizes he should probably leave, since this likely isn’t a conversation he’s supposed to be overhearing, but he can’t help sticking around. He’s curious.

“I mean, you can never really know,” Robin says, “But in this case, yeah. Doesn’t seem likely.”

Eddie makes a sad noise that cuts right through Steve. It kind of makes him want to find whatever guy Eddie is into and shake him until he apologizes for making Eddie feel this way.

“I know,” Eddie says, “I’ve made my peace with that. Mostly. I just—don’t want to fuck anything up, you know? Don’t want my stupid feelings to get in the way of our friendship.”

So the guy is a friend of Eddie’s. That sort of narrows the pool, but Steve definitely doesn’t know all of Eddie’s friends. It might be someone in his band, except they’re all kind of too young for him. Or maybe Jonathan? He sort of seems like the type of guy someone like Eddie could be into. It’s definitely not Steve. There’s no way he’s Eddie’s type.

He’s not sure why that thought is kind of disappointing.

“Your feelings aren’t stupid,” Robin says, voice gentle. “And even if he does find out, it’s not going to ruin your friendship. He’s a good guy. And he’s more emotionally intelligent than people give him credit for.”

“I know. But it would make things weird, and I don’t wanna make things weird. I like what we have.”

“For what it’s worth,” she says, “He does too. He loves being friends with you, and I think it would take a lot for him to give that up.”

Eddie makes a noncommittal noise. Whoever he likes, Steve thinks the guy’s an idiot if he doesn’t like Eddie back. He’s everything someone could want in a romantic partner—funny, sweet, smart but not in a condescending way, pretty, good with kids. What’s not to love? Steve would totally date him if he weren’t straight.

“And like I said,” Robin goes on, “You never know. Maybe he does like you back.”

“C’mon, Buckley,” Eddie says flatly, “You know that’s impossible. I mean, we’re talking about Steve here.”

Steve jerks at the sound of his name, smacking his head against the underside of the window frame. “Shit!” he hisses before he can stop himself, then freezes.

Inside, the voices have gone silent. There’s the creaking of springs like someone getting off the bed and then Robin is appearing at the window, poking her head out.

“Steve, oh my God,” she says, looking down at him.

He straightens, trying to act casual even though literally nothing about this is casual. “Oh, hey,” he says. Fuck, what was that? He’s playing this wrong. He glances through the window and sees Eddie still sitting on the bed, eyes wide. He looks petrified.

Abruptly, Eddie gets up and crosses to the window.

“Eddie, wait,” Steve says as Eddie climbs out of the window, not looking at him. He heads straight for the trellis without a backwards glance. “You don’t have to go,” Steve calls softly after him, but it’s too late. He’s already gone.

Robin sighs. “You should probably just come in,” she says.

Insides roiling with guilt, Steve climbs through the window and just stands there, not sure if he should say something. She crosses her arms and looks back at him, eyebrows raised in expectation. “Um—” he starts.

She rolls her eyes. “What the hell were you doing, dingus?”

“I’m really sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I just—I couldn’t sleep so I came over, and I saw the window was open so I got curious and I—I didn’t mean to overhear that. I mean, I had no clue you guys were talking about me.”

“Well, we were,” she says, sighing as she moves backward until she hits her bed, sitting down. Steve comes over and sits facing her. “And now you know.”

“Now I know,” he repeats. “Makes no fucking sense, but now I know.”

It really doesn’t. What the hell does he have that Eddie would want? He’s not exceptional in any way, not like everyone else in their group. He’s not into any of the things Eddie cares about. He’s not stupid—he realizes he’s a good-looking guy—but Eddie doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would like someone solely based on that. So why would Eddie possibly like him?

Robin is frowning at him. “What do you mean, makes no fucking sense?”

He shrugs. “Just, like, I don’t know why he would be into me,” he says, “I’m—boring.”

“You, Steve Harrington, are many things,” she says, putting a hand on his shoulder, “But you’re not boring. Do you really think that about yourself?”

Now he’s feeling defensive. “I dunno,” he says, “Maybe?”

“Okay, well, don’t,” she says, hard look in her eye. “I don’t want to hear anyone saying bad things about my best friend.”

That makes him smile. “Okay,” he says.

“Okay.”

He shifts in his spot. “So—since when do you and Eddie hang out in the middle of the night?”

“Since never, really,” she says, “I think he normally goes to Nancy. But the Wheelers are out of town, and I think he needed someone to talk to.” She shrugs. “And, you know, I’m kind of the expert on you.”

“Yeah, that’s accurate,” he says, grinning. “Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.”

She smiles back at him. “Oh, absolutely.” Then her eyebrows pinch together. “So—you don’t mind? That he likes you?”

“No, of course I don’t mind,” Steve says, shaking his head. “If anything, I’m glad.”

“You’re…glad?”

“Yeah,” he says, “If he’s gonna like anyone, I’m glad it’s me.”

Then he frowns. Why would he rather Eddie like him than someone else? Why is it such a relief that Eddie said his name instead of Jeff or Jonathan?

Robin is looking back at him with her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “Steve do you—do you like him?”

He blinks several times. “Uh. I don’t—I’m not—”

What does this mean? If he wants Eddie to like him, does that mean he likes Eddie? He imagines for a second that Eddie does like someone else. He pictures him going on dates with some other guy, kissing some other guy. And it fills him with so much immense hatred for this faceless figment of his imagination. God, he’s jealous.

“Holy shit,” he whispers.

Robin takes both of his hands and squeezes them. “Holy shit,” she repeats.

He pitches forward and lets his head slump onto her shoulder. God, what does this mean for him? He doesn’t know what to do with himself. His world just got lifted up, spun around, and dropped back on its head with no warning. And now he’s just supposed to go about his life knowing that he has feelings for a guy. For Eddie.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Robin says, running her fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing wrong with having a crush on a guy.”

“I know,” he says, voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt.

“But I get how earth-shattering this is.”

He lifts his head to look at her and she gives him an encouraging smile. She squeezes his hands again.

“What do I do now?” he asks.

“Well,” she says, reaching up to flick a lock of hair out of his eyes. “I think you should probably go talk to Eddie.”

(part two here)

#steve realizing he has a crush on eddie bc he realizes he wants eddie to have a crush on him is my bread and butter #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #ficlet

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

For the requests: Steve has a good relationship with his parents & when they come back from wherever & someone (Nancy/Robin) tells them about the UD & his parents react by calling out every single adult involved. Maybe he got badly hurt, & they were called in & upon finding out they call out Joyce, Hop, Owens & Murray for the way no adult inthese kids lives had any clue about what their kids were going through. Nor were their parents given notice esp bc having underaged kids sign NDAs is not legal nor legally binfing (Maybe all the parents of the party kids are there and get all the info just like the Harrington's)

MY DARLING! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! HONESTLY this one hit different. You know how much I love making Steve suffer and when he has good parents, a lot of his suffering disappears. But it was nice to branch out a bit. Also finally some common sense! KIDS SHOULD NEVER BE SIGNING AN NDA THEMS THE FACTS! Steve's parents are here to fight for everyone so WELCOME TO THE CHAOS OF STEVE'S OVERPROTECTIVE LAWYER PARENTS! - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------

Steve Harrington had managed to avoid the hospital for years. Not because he shouldn’t have gone, but because he refused to go.

But this time, he was unconscious, which means he didn’t have a choice.

And now, staring at his parents’ shocked and appalled faces next to his bed, he realized he wished he’d just died, actually.

“This happens…often?” Anne Harrington asked Dr. Owens, who looked like he wished he was also dead.

“It does happen more often than we like. But it appears to be fixed now! Steven has been a wonderful asset to us, which is why we want to make sure he is comfortable and all his medical expenses are paid.”

He handled that well, Steve thought.

“And this is the first time anyone has bothered to call us?” Richard Harrington asked much too quietly.

That was his ‘I’m about to lose my shit’ voice and Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

“I do apologize, we had to deal with enough NDAs as it is,” Dr. Owens replied, not realizing that he was speaking to two lawyers who were about to ruin his life.

Steve let his head rest against the pillow of the hospital bed, sighing.

“At what age did Steve sign his first NDA?”

“I believe he was 16.”

“And did he have a lawyer present?” Anne didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “I can tell you he didn’t. We’re his lawyers and we were not even called. Are you the one in charge of this shitshow?”

It wasn’t often Anne Harrington said a curse word. Steve only ever heard it a handful of times, usually after hanging up with a client who would lose their case.

“I am one of the people who is tasked with this, yes. But if you don’t mind, I need to check in with a few people before I can truly devote time to this conversation.”

“Oh, please. Continue on with your day. Don’t mind us sitting next to our son in the hospital.”

Dr. Owens sighed, knowing this fight was barely even starting, and left the room.

Steve’s parents turned to him.

“How many concussions have you had?”

“Why didn’t you call us?”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Will this happen again?”

The questions were too much, and Steve’s head was pounding. He couldn’t do this right now.

“Hopper.”

“Jim Hopper? I thought he died.”

Admittedly, his parents had been out of town for a while. They didn’t know Hopper was back as of a few months ago, and probably didn’t realize he’d taken over as chief again.

“He didn’t. He’s around here somewhere.”

“He knew about all this?”

“Mom, I love you, but my head is splitting down the middle. I need to stop talking.”

Anne slowly brushed her hand through his hair, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Of course, honey. We’ll be back soon. Do not sign anything without us here, okay?”

“Okay.”

His dad briefly touched his shoulder before they both left the room.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Until he was woken up by yelling.

Not just any yelling. Richard Harrington yelling.

If he wasn’t chained to the bed by an IV and blood transfusion bag, he would be up and in the hallway.

Apparently, he didn’t need to worry, though.

His mom came into the room, leaving the door open to the hallway so he could hear everything.

“I’m glad you’re awake, honey. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Who is he yelling at?”

“Every adult who didn’t bother to take care of you the way they should. Not just you, but all of these kids,” she said, tone more annoyed by the second.

“I don’t understand.”

“Honey, you’ve been protecting these kids in ways you never should have had to. All these adults who were involved never told any of us what was going on. They let you keep standing in the line of fire, getting hurt, seeing things you shouldn’t have to and never even bothered to call us. You signed NDAs with the government without parents or lawyers present. That alone is illegal, do you understand that?”

“So I’m in trouble?”

“Oh, honey, no. You’re not in trouble. Your dad’s having a few words with the chief and Dr. Owens.”

Steve tuned in to what was being said in the hall.

“I cannot fathom what you’ve done. Expecting these children to save this town, the world, and not even have their own parents know? Who are they supposed to turn to? You? And what have you done to help them? As far as I’m concerned, you should be arrested and imprisoned. If I have anything to say about it, you will!”

“Mom, can you please get him to stop? I know he’s upset, but Hop really protected us a lot, okay? And Dr. Owens was just doing his job.”

“A lot of people have just been doing their jobs instead of considering that maybe children shouldn’t be responsible for defeating actual monsters.”

Well. Yeah, she did have a point there.

“Where is everyone?”

Anne sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand, running her thumb along the back of it.

“The Munson boy is in the room next door, he’ll be okay. Robin is home with her parents. Most of the kids are now with their parents, but that Sinclair boy is still being watched for concussion symptoms.”

Steve sighed with relief.

No one was lost. Everyone had pretty minor injuries. Maybe he was able to protect everyone.

“That Dustin boy is relentless,” Anne said with a smile. “He really looks up to you.”

“Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.”

“His mom didn’t know about any of this either, did she?”

Steve thought about it.

Honestly, she probably had some idea. Maybe not of the real details, but she had to know Dustin was involved in something he couldn’t talk about. Same with most of the parents.

But Steve’s parents were gone a lot. Their main office was in Boston, and they would often have to travel around the country for their clients. He was used to not seeing them, only getting to talk to them on the phone once or twice a week.

It’s easy to hide shit over the phone, and when they did manage to make it home, the Upside Down monsters were safely tucked away underground.

They had no way of knowing anything was wrong. He did it on purpose, just like all of the kids did.

Even without signing the NDAs, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have told their parents.

“I think we just thought we were protecting you guys.”

“Honey, it’s not your job to protect us. It’s our job to protect you.”

She looked so sad.

Steve didn’t want her to be sad.

“Mom, you couldn’t have done anything. And we’re all safe.”

His dad walked in the room, face red. He closed the door behind him and ran his hand over his face.

“Doctor said Steve can go when the nurse comes to disconnect him from everything soon,” he said, coming to sit in the chair by his bed.

“That’s good news. We’ll get you home and settled. We canceled our flight out so we can stick around for a while and make sure you’re okay,” Anne said with a smile.

“You guys don’t have to cancel your trip. Your clients need you.”

“Not as much as you need us, son,” Richard said, giving him a soft smile.

“I’ve handled it before, though.”

“And you shouldn’t have. Trust me, this town, the government, they’ve got a shit storm coming and I’m leading it,” his dad huffed.

A knock interrupted Steve’s response, the door opening slightly before they answered.

Eddie.

“Steve? You okay?”

Steve’s parents looked at the door, then back at Steve, who was doing his best to hide the fond smile on his face.

It wasn’t working though, not when he saw the way Eddie was trying to take inventory of his injuries from across the room.

“You can come in, Eds.”

“Who’s this, honey?” Anne asked.

“This is Eddie.”

“Oh! You poor thing. I heard all about what you’ve been through. Let me just say, if we had caught wind of it earlier and knew you were Steve’s friend, we would’ve been representing you in court,” Anne rushed to say, her hands fluttering over Eddie’s when he got next to the bed.

Eddie’s wide eyes would have been amusing if Steve didn’t worry that he might run for the hills at the care his parents showed.

“Uh. Thank you?”

“Do you need anything right now? Do your parents need anything?” Richard asked, sitting forward in his chair, business face on.

“Um, just me and my uncle, but no. I’m heading home, but wanted to check on Steve before I go.”

“Of course! You guys are close friends?”

It was an innocent question. His parents just liked to know who was in his life, that’s all. But Eddie looked at him with panic written all over his face.

Steve gave him a small smile, then turned to his parents.

“Actually, he’s my boyfriend.”

They were quiet for a moment, which Steve expected. No matter how well he thought they’d take it, he knew it would be a shock.

But his parents didn’t let him down.

“How long have you been together, Steve?”

“Since March. Four months?” He watched as Eddie started to back away, probably expecting the worst.

Anne smacked Steve’s arm, forgetting for a moment that he was in the hospital for a reason.

“Sorry,” she said before crossing her arms. “You’ve had a boyfriend for four months and didn’t tell us? We could have come back and arranged dinner to meet him. I’m so sorry our son is rude, Eddie. He wasn’t raised that way, I assure you.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“Um. What’s happening right now?”

“We’ll be home for a while to make sure Steve is alright. We’d love to have you over for dinner soon. With your uncle if you’d like,” Richard added as Eddie just stared between them.

“What do you like? I just got a new cookbook that has so many European dishes I want to try. Are you a fan of Polish food? You know what, no, what about Greek? We haven’t had good Greek food in so long.”

Steve was laughing, he couldn’t help it.

“Steve, what the hell is going on here?”

“Eddie, that’s my mom, Anne, and my dad, Richard. They’re kind of the best, and apparently they want you and Wayne to come for dinner. Think you can find time in your schedule?”

“Uh.”

“Oh dear. Do you have a concussion? They should monitor you kids better,” Anne worried, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks and look in his eyes. “Should I get a nurse?”

“No, mom, he’s okay. He just expected you two to freak out.”

“About what?”

“The fact he’s a man.”

“Oh! I do suppose that’s a reasonable concern.”

“Eddie, let me ask you this: do you make Steve happy?” Richard asked.

“I think so.”

“And he makes you happy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then it sounds like we have no reason to be upset. Now, dinner? Maybe tomorrow night?”

“Okay.”

Steve laughed loudly.

“Eds, come here,” Steve gestured for him to come closer.

Eddie moved next to the bed, his arm bandaged, and a new cut with stitches in it on his forehead.

“Closer.”

Eddie leaned in.

Steve leaned up and kissed his lips. Just a quick peck, just enough to get the point across that this was really okay and really happening.

“Tomorrow at 6?” Steve asked before he pulled away completely.

Eddie nodded.

“And please bring your uncle, we need to discuss our plan for a lawsuit on behalf of all of you,” Richard spoke up from his chair.

“Oh. Yes, sir.” Eddie pulled away from the bed, nervously playing with his rings.

“Richard is fine, son.”

Eddie was blushing, which Steve was absolutely going to make fun of him for later.

“See you tomorrow, then?” Eddie asked awkwardly.

“Love you, Eds.”

“Oh. Uh. Yep. Love you too, Stevie.”

He raced out of the room, leaving Steve and Anne laughing quietly.

“Poor boy. Didn’t know what to do, did he?”

“No, I think he isn’t used to a positive reaction when people find out about him.”

“His uncle knows about you two, though, right?”

“Yeah, Wayne’s been great.”

“Good. Well, I’m going to find a nurse so we can go home. You should be comfortable in your own bed.”

“And I am going to make a quick call to my buddy in Chicago to see if he can pull some information on this Owens guy. We have a lot of work to do.”

Steve was used to this. For some kids, maybe this wasn’t good parenting. Maybe his parents being gone for a lot of his life had a negative impact.

But Steve never doubted how much they loved him. They still came home for every birthday, every Christmas. They still managed to take a family vacation every year. They gave him everything he needed and most of what he wanted. They supported him through everything, the proof right here in front of him now.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #the party #steve harrington has good parents for once!!!#and they're about to fuck shit up!!!#ficlet #request

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pahtoosh · 11 months

Text

apologies and kisses

[image ID: pictures on a light purple background. there are five different baby blankets, a few different bottles of laundry detergent, and an image of chris evans as steve rogers looking smug and another of sebastian stan looking comedically distraught/.end ID]

masterlist

summer celebration masterlist

18+

wc: ~2200 words

warnings: having to do chores. baby is kind of dramatic in this(but justified!)

a/n: the movies moodboards are back. this is the first post of my summer celebration!!! also my first "and kisses" piece!!! "and kisses" just means there are lots of kisses and this is important because i love kisses :)

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader (Dada = Steve, Baba = Bucky, Daddies = both Steve and Bucky)

summary: Steve leaves you and Bucky alone for a day and your Baba manages to make a mistake worthy of an apology and lots of kisses

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ

“Okay, I’m leaving for my meeting now!” Steve called out. “Just making this announcement in case one of my loves wants to show me some love before I go!”

Your dada would never leave without a proper goodbye unless it was an emergency, but he likes teasing you. You took the bait every time.

“Dada! Dada wait!” You rushed to the door and “caught” Steve just as he was about to open the door.

“Oh goodness! You just barely made it, pumpkin. I was practically out the door!” He set down his briefcase and gave you a hug and kiss. He looked over your shoulder for any sign of Bucky. “Hm. Only one of my loves came to say goodbye. I guess that’s it then. Bye sweetheart, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“No! No! Baba! Baba, come say bye bye to Dada, you have to!”

Bucky shook his head at your and Steve’s antics. He walked leisurely down the hallway before kissing Steve goodbye.

“You sure took your time,” Dada teased.

“I can’t be spoiling you now. Sometimes ya gotta play a lil’ hard to get.” Bucky winked.

Steve laughed and muttered idiot before returning the kiss. “You two gonna be okay without me?”

“Yes, Steve. I’ve got the schedule and the chore chart and the MyPlate chart that you printed out for me. Twice. Relax, I’ve got this. They’re my baby too, you know.”

Your dada sighed. “I know, and I trust you but it’s been a while since we’ve been separated.”

Bucky rubbed his shoulders. “We’re gonna be fine, it’s only for a few hours-”

“Six hours.”

“And those six hours will be fun and productive thanks to the schedule you lovingly created for us. We’ll be okay, you can just focus on your meeting. Unless that’s why you’re acting like a mother hen right now.” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Are you worrying about us so you don’t have to think about your meeting?”

Steve stood a little straighter and fixed his tie. “Steve Rogers doesn’t run away from his problems. But if he did, that’d be a pretty darn good reason.”

Bucky laughed. “Okay, Captain. Whatever you say, now go kick some ass.”

“Language.” He kissed you one more time. “Bye, sweetheart.” He kissed Bucky. “Be good.”

“Why am I being told to ‘be good’?”

“Because our sweet little angel is always good. You’re the trouble around here.” Steve smiled at you and walked out the door, closing it behind him before your baba could respond.

“Unbelievable. Did you hear that, lovie? Dada’s talking as if he wasn’t the biggest troublemaker his whole life.” He stopped looking at the door to face you. “How ‘bout those chores? Should we get started on them?”

“Don’t wannaaaa,” you whined.

“I know, me neither but we gotta show Dada how responsible I can be. Will you help me with that, baby?”

“Mmm. Okay. But then I don’t have to eat Dada’s veggie sprouts for dinner.”

Your baba threw his head back in laughter. “Trust me, angel. Baba wouldn’t make you eat that mess even if you were the naughtiest baby in the world.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Two hours later, you and Bucky had finished watering the plants, cleaning your playroom, and doing the dishes. The only two chores left on Steve’s list were to dust all the shelves and lamps in the house and do the laundry. Bucky hated dusting, so he was saving that task for last.

He stood a little straighter and used his sergeant voice to grab your attention. “Agent baby, I have a very important task for you.”

You copied his posture. “I’m listenin’, sargan’ baba!”

“I need you to round up all the blankies in the playroom and living room and escort them to the laundry room. And bring any loose socks you see on your way. Those tricky little guys have escaped us for the last time.”

“Yes, sargan’ baba!” You did as he said, gathering the lightweight blankets that collected on the back of the couch and in one of your playroom’s baskets. You carefully walked to the laundry room with your huge pile of blankets nearly blocking your whole face.

“I gots dem, Baba!”

“That’s very impressive, baby! And in record time too,” Bucky praised. He took the blankets from your hands and placed them into the machine. “One, two, three, four, five, si- wait, we’re missing one. Where’s your blankie, lovie?”

You looked up innocently. “Bankie’s not dirty.”

“Now I know that’s not true. I can’t remember the last time we washed blankie.”

“But, but what if bankie don’ like the water?” You pouted and formed a crease between your brows.

“Blankie will be fine, sweetheart. Blankets are meant to be washed! And don’t you want your blankie to be fresh and clean? Think about how you feel after a nice bath. Good, right?”

You looked down and played with the hem of your shirt. “Yah, feels good.”

“Okay, then can you get blankie for me? Or do you want sergeant baba to come with you?”

“No, I do it!” You straightened up and rushed to get your blankie, wanting to show Baba your independence.

You carefully handed blankie to Bucky.

“Thank you, doll. Now blankie’s gonna take a little trip with these other blankies and when they’re done they’re gonna be all clean! While I do this can you look for the feather duster in the closet? I’ll be back out in a minute.”

“Okay, Baba!”

Now alone with the washing machine, Bucky turned the knob to the correct settings and reached for the detergent. There were three different bottles on the shelf. Wait, which brand is used for blankets? How much are you supposed to use? And who needs three different kinds of laundry detergent?

Steve had been taking care of the laundry lately in exchange for Bucky cleaning the kitchen. Steve was also more particular about how fabrics felt after washing, explaining the need for different detergents. Bucky decided to put a little bit of each detergent in the machine and hope for the best. He pressed the start button and left to find you and the feather duster.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Not too long later, every bookshelf and lampshade in the house was dust-free, Bucky put the blankets in the dryer, and you both ate lunch. By the time the dishes were cleaned, the dryer played a happy tune signaling that the blankets were dry.

“Baba! Is blankie time!”

He gasped. “Blankie time? We gotta move fast! Hold on baby, Baba’s gonna get you there!” He lifted you off his lap and carried you to the laundry room, moving up and down while making airplane noises.

“Wooosh! Wooosh! Wow, baby, look at how fast you’re going!”

You squealed and held onto Bucky’s Henley for dear life. “I’m zoomin! I go so high so fast!”

“Aaaand we’ve made it to blankieland!” He put on a voice and pretended to talk into a radio. “Passengers, we have just landed in blankieland. Please stay still while we take out the blankies and give your Babas a kiss for the ride.”

You giggled and kissed Bucky on the cheek before wiggling out of his arms. “Mwah! Down please!”

He set you down and opened the dryer, putting all the blankets into a clean basket so he could take out the dryer lint while you got your blankie. He closed the door and then turned to you.

“So, how’s blankie? All clean and fresh?”

“B-Baba?” Your lip was trembling and your eyes were filling up with tears.

“Oh, baby what’s wrong?” He crouched down to your level.

“My blankie! You ruined blankie!” You dropped blankie and ran to your room crying.

Confused, Bucky picked up your blanket from the floor and a pant of guilt hit him. Blotches of the fabric were discolored. It made your blanket look like someone spilled Steve’s green juice on it. He inspected the other blankets and for some reason, only yours was affected.

Baba felt so bad for ruining something that meant so much to you. He wanted to go comfort you, but sometimes you needed time alone after a conflict.

While giving you some space, Bucky tried to fix his mistake. He thought about all the ways he could get the stains out. He tried a stain-removing pen, but there was no change. He got a small part wet and blotted it with a towel. Again, nothing happened. Surely putting it into the machine again wouldn’t fix things, that's how he got into this mess. And he was hesitant to try vinegar, the idea of your blanket being stained and smelly was too much. With no other solutions left to try, Bucky went to go check on you.

Luckily, you left your door wide open. You were so distracted that you just ran straight toward crying into your pillow and stuffies. Bucky could hear your cries all around the house. He was concerned about how long you’d been crying for. How much time did he spend in that laundry room?

“Baby? Baby, I’m so sorry. Baba’s so sorry he ruined your blankie.” Bucky carefully sat down on your bed and rubbed your back in a soothing gesture. “I’ll buy you a new blankie, yeah? I’ll buy you as many as you want, as big as you want, as colorful as you want.”

He couldn’t be too sure, but he might’ve heard you sob the word “no” three times.

“Angel, I’m so sorry. I just wanted you to have a clean blankie. When Dada gets back I’ll have him teach me how to clean blankie the correct way, okay? Maybe he can fix this.” Bucky actually wasn’t sure this was something that could be fixed, but he’d say anything to make you happy. “It was an honest mistake, angel. Can you forgive me?”

“I never forgive you, Baba! Never ever ever ever!” You smashed your face into a pillow and kept sobbing.

Bucky sighed and held his head in his hands. He was hoping for an ounce of Steve’s patience right now. He thought about taking you over to the tower himself. You could see Steve sooner. Maybe some of the other Avengers would still be there and they could help cheer you up. Or maybe he could bribe you with treats, he did just go grocery shopping yesterday...

Luckily, your Dada was just about to park the car. He opened the door expecting to see either you running up to him or you and Bucky sleeping on the couch, exhausted from all the chores. He was not expecting to hear you crying. Steve quickly took off his shoes and found the two of you.

“What’s going on?” It was an odd scene, you lying face down in the middle of the bed, sobbing while Bucky was perched on the edge about to pull his hair out.

You turned over and reached out to Dada, still whimpering. He picked you up and reached for a tissue to clean your face. “What’s got my little sweetheart so worked up, hmm?”

“B-Baba wuined bankie.” You hid your face in Steve’s neck, too tired to do anything else.

Dada looked over to Bucky with a raised brow.

“I was doing the laundry and I messed up blankie.”

“Show me.”

Bucky left to get blankie while Steve sat on your bed with you in his lap. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

You whined and nuzzled deeper into Steve’s shoulder.

He sighed and rubbed your back, beginning to talk anyway. “I know how much blankie means to you, baby. I’m sorry Baba ruined it. Did Baba say sorry to you?”

You sniffled. “Ya.”

“And did you forgive him?”

You didn’t answer.

“Babyyy,” he said in a warning tone. Steve did not appreciate unanswered questions.

“No. I say I never forgive him.”

He sucked in a breath. “That’s harsh, now why would you say that?”

“Because blankie!”

“I know, I know. But don’t you think Baba is a little more important than blankie? I bet Baba’s real sorry even without your crying.”

Bucky came into your room with blankie. Steve reached for it and inspected the damage.

“You poured the detergent straight onto it instead of using the slot, didn’t you?”

“How did you know that?”

Steve grimaced. “I made that mistake too. With my own blanket, thankfully. This kind of fabric just soaks it up. And why are the splotches different colors? Which detergent did you use?”

Bucky scratched the back of his neck. “All of them?” Steve’s eyes widened. “I didn’t use a lot! Just a little of each. Why do we need three different kinds anyway?”

Steve laughed. “It’s okay, Buck. I’ll show you the ropes next time.” He turned to you. “See, baby? It was an accident. Baba was trying so hard to clean blankie that he used three whole different soaps!”

You giggled softly and snuck a peek at your daddies. Steve looked hopeful while Bucky still looked sad and a little embarrassed. You didn’t like seeing Baba so down. You reached out to him.

He looked surprised. “You want me to hold you?” When you nodded, he reached out to pick you up. He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. “Again, I’m so sorry baby. Baba didn’t know.”

You held his face with both hands. “Is okay Baba. Sorry for being a meanie.”

He laughed. “You’re no meanie, angel.” He kissed you and then cuddled you, mouthing thank you to Steve over your shoulder.

The next day, your daddies took you on a trip to buy a new blankie and Steve spent an hour showing Bucky how to do the laundry. He even took notes and laminated them to keep in the laundry room.

#stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #gn!little!reader #oneshot #fluff #sfw regression #agere fic #littlespace fics #marvel agere #kisses #and kisses series #apologies and kisses #apologies-and-kisses #toosh writes

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 5

Welp, fuck. Yeah this is going to be six parts now. This story just doesn’t know how to end itself so I’m putting the cutting point here and then finish the rest with BBQ idea.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The remaining trio arrived after dinner. Jonathan, El, and Will had stayed over, order pizza.

“California really does have the superior pizza,” Jonathan hummed around his slice.

Steve scoffed. “Even better than Chicago? You’re crazy, man.”

“That isn’t pizza,” Jonathan argued. “That’s an open calzone.”

Will snickered as El cocked her head to the side as she tried to puzzle it out.

The doorbell rang and Steve wiped his hands on his jeans as he stood up to get it.

He opened the door to reveal Eddie with Lucas, Erica, and Max.

“Look what I found skulking around my place,” Eddie said proudly.

Lucas and Max looked at each other as Erica rolled her eyes.

“We figured that you would be over at Eddie’s,” Lucas explained quietly.

Steve shrugged. “I probably would have been if Dustin, Nancy and Mike didn’t stop by earlier.”

“Damn,” Max cursed. “I hoping to beat Dustin.”

Erica rolled her eyes again. “Can we get this over with?”

Steve just shook his head. “Me and Will and them are just finishing up dinner.”

Lucas frowned. “Will’s here?”

Steve smiled and then turned to lead them back to the kitchen. “Apparently Team Steve decided that they were going to monitor each apology to make sure they were actually apologies and not just excuses.”

“Wait, really?” Erica asked.

They entered the kitchen and Steve called out, “Look what Eddie dragged in.”

Eddie grinned.

“Come have pizza!” El said. “There’s plenty for everyone. Steve likes to get a lot.”

“That’s because I know that I will have people grazing the leftovers for the next couple days and I won’t accidentally get eaten out of house and home.”

El giggled.

They all settled down to eat. Happily chatting and laughing as they consumed all of the pizza.

Once everything was cleared away Will asked. “All right who’s first?”

Max and Lucas exchanged a glance.

“Um...” Lucas said.

“Because we did our shovel talk together, can we do our apology together?” Max asked.

Jonathan furrowed his brow. “I think that’s up to Steve.”

“I’m down if you guys are okay with that,” Steve said to everyone else.

There was nodding all around.

“I’ll handle this set,” Eddie said, “if you want to stand guard?”

Jonathan and Will nodded, but El shook her head. “I’m staying. I haven’t got to do one yet. You can chose to stay if you want, but I’m not moving.”

“Fair enough,” Eddie said. “How about this, we double team with Max and Lucas and then I can do Erica?”

El tilted her head to the side as she thought about it. “Agreed.”

Erica threw her arms in the air and left with the Byers boys.

“Is there a reason you have monitors?” Max asked once they had gone.

Steve laughed. “Apparently they think I let you guys get away with too much shit and wanted to make sure that didn’t happen with these apologies.”

Eddie grinned at them.

“Right...” Lucas said slowly, nodding his head. “So it started out as a joke...”

Steve held up his hand. “I’m going to stop you right there. No it didn’t. I don’t care if that’s what you thought. It did not start out as a joke. I will not take ‘it was a joke’ as an excuse. Because it’s starting to sound like you guys knew that other people were giving me the shovel talk and wanted to do it too. And if that is that case, I’m done.”

Eddie let out a low whistle. “I don’t know, Supergirl. I think our Stevie is going to be just fine.”

She giggled again. “Maybe, but I want to stay for the verbal beat down, don’t you?”

Eddie tilted his head and looked up. He pursed his lips and nodded. “No, no, you’re right. Should we get popcorn?”

Steve laughed.

Max bit her lip. “We knew Mike and Erica had done it,” she admitted. “But we didn’t know about anyone else we swear! Ten is too fucking much.”

“That’s good to hear, I guess,” Steve said. “But seriously, a joke? Shovel talks aren’t funny. Not the first time and definitely not the tenth.”

Eddie frowned. “Who was the first?”

Steve cocked his head to the side and leaned against the counter. “Mike.”

Everyone boggled at Steve.

“Mike was the first?” Lucas asked.

Steve shrugged. “It’s why I believed him when he said he had been joking. Because no one else had done it at that point.”

“Were there other people between Erica and Mike,” Max asked, “and us?”

Steve folded his arms and nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” Lucas said. “Yeah, I get not accepting ours as a joke at that point.”

Max nodded. “We are sorry, Steve. I understand that saying we didn’t know won’t cut it, but we really didn’t know. We also...” she looked over at Lucas and blushed. “We also thought that Eddie was getting them, too.”

Lucas nodded. “Like we thought Dustin and Robin for sure would have given Eddie the shovel talk. But when we found out that no one had? That really put the nail in the coffin for all this.” He hung his head. “We’re really sorry, man.”

“Yeah,” Max agreed. “We should have known better about the shovel talk to begin with. I wouldn’t want one and I wouldn’t want Lucas to get one either. Our relationship is no one else’s business. And getting into yours and Eddie’s business was wrong. We’re sorry.”

Steve sighed and glanced at El and Eddie to see if it was good enough. They both nodded. “Okay, I accept your apology. Especially since it seems like you learned your lesson. And if you do something like that to someone else, make sure they know it’s a joke. Because I sure the hell didn’t.”

They both winced and then nodded.

Lucas came up and gave Steve a hug. “We’ll try to be better friends too,” he whispered. Steve nodded.

He walked out and Max stood there for a moment. She looked at Eddie and El for a moment before she launched herself at Steve. He caught her and held her tight.

“You’re the big brother I always dreamed of,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so sorry, Steve.”

Steve kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too, Max.”

When she pulled away, she wiped her face. El held out her hand and Max took it.

“Come on,” El said gently. “Let’s go wash your face before we go back out to the boys.”

Max nodded gratefully and let herself be led away.

Erica came in a couple minutes later and sat down at the counter and stared both of them down. But when Eddie and Steve didn’t back down, she nodded.

“Good,” she said. “I don’t deal with bitches.”

Eddie scoffed. “Does your mother know you kiss her with that dirty mouth?”

Erica batted her eyelashes. “My mother thinks I’m an angel.”

Eddie threw his arms in the air. “Because of course she does.”

“I still haven’t heard an apology,” Steve said after a moment.

“You aren’t going to get one,” Erica said primly. “What you are going to get is why Steve and not Eddie that got the shovel talk.”

Eddie and Steve shared a confused glance.

“Come again?” Eddie asked.

Erica shrugged. “I mean I’m sorry everyone else had sticks up their ass, but I’m not sorry I gave Steve the shovel talk. He’s the badass of the pair of you and needs to know that I will defend my DM to the death if required.”

Steve ran his tongue over his lips and rolled his eyes. “So what I’m hearing is that you think I’m too badass to be protected?”

“Duh,” she said. “I’ve seen you in action. This little bitch nearly died.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and he tilted his head forward. “Excuse me?”

“You clearly need to be protected from dying again,” Erica said.

“And why can’t I be the one protecting him?” Steve asked, furrowing his brow.

Erica paused for a moment. “You know, I didn’t think of it like that.” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “No, are you absolutely right. I commend you to service in defending Eddie the Banished. Don’t fuck it up.”

She hopped off the barstool and walked out.

“Does–does that count as an apology?” Eddie asked more than a little stunned.

Steve jutted out his bottom lip and nodded. “Coming from her? Yeah.”

Eddie nodded back. “Sounds about right. She certainly is something.”

“I fear for any boy that tries to break her heart,” Steve said. “She’ll break their knees.”

“Provided anyone can find the body,” Eddie agreed.

***

Part Six

Tag List: @justforthedead89 @zerokrox-blog @ihavekidneys @didntwant2come @thelittleclare @liorereshkigal @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @telidina @stevesbipanic @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @jonesn4coffee @resident-gay-bitch @obliosworld @croatoan-like-its-hot @evix-syne666 @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @bookworm0690

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #jonathan and steve are friends #ladykailtiha writes

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onsunnyside · 2 years

Text

¹⁵.⍭ 𝐏𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Ari Levinson x bunny hybrid!reader (to Major Crossover—Ari Levinson, Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen and Steve Rogers x bunny hybrid!reader)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | bunny hybrid!reader, owner!Ari, Mob AU (loosely implied), dom/sub undertones, DD/LG undertones. boss!Ari, mean daddy!Ari and daddy’s mean friends!Andy, Steve & Lloyd. AGE GAP, power imbalance, size difference, breeding programs (for hybrids). SMUT - minors DNI, boot riding, daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation, dumbification, finger sucking/gagging, dacryphilia, size kink, fingering (f, v & a), spit kink, bulge suckling (over pants?), p*ssy slapping, balls sucking, oral (m), squirting, overstimulation.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Every pet needs an owner and in your case, your daddy loves sharing you. Written for Kinktober 2022, loosely based on this ask.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 4.53K

𝗔/𝗡 | *reposted bc it was causing me problems.* consider this my crossover fic for kinktober if my other one doesn’t come in time. aside from the mafia, ari and his friends work in the breeding industry too. dear anon, i'm so sorry i basically changed your whole request !! ari owns me !! Title from Put Me in a Movie by Lana Del Rey. No gifs/photos belong to me, check the Pinterest board on my kinktober masterlist, all credits go to the original creators. All mistakes are my own. [all asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

There are a lot of things that Ari is thankful for. From his respected family name, his close friends, and the luck or diligence that has gotten him this far. Given the number of bullets he’s dodged growing up, it’s a wonder he ever got to the top in the end. But right now, he’s most grateful for you, his little pet, on your knees and drooling all over his knee. He loved when you were a pathetic mess.

Another whimper slips out from your lips, drawing all eyes to you once more.

“Bunny, what did I say?”

You quickly wipe the spit from your face and strain to meet his eyes, your hips stutter when he raises his foot as you grind down, torturing your soppy folds with a single motion.

“To b-be quiet…” You clutch at his pants, dropping your head in submission. “Sorry, daddy.”

Ari’s gaze softens. He reaches out and pets your head, lightly brushing the soft fur of your ears, making you purr. “It’s okay, baby. I know you’re just a dumb little bunny. You’re lucky daddy’s friends are so patient with all of your interruptions—” He slips his digits into your mouth and forcefully turns your head, “—you should apologize to them.”

Your gaze falls on the man next to him and those thick thighs straining against his wool slacks. “I-I’m so-wwy…” Your eyes drift over each of them, shivers crawling down your spine at their intimidating stares. “I—” Ari jams his fingers to the back of your throat, making you gag and saliva drip down your chin. “So-ugh-rry! I’m sorry for interruptin’!”

“I don’t know if I forgive you, pet.” Mr. Hansen tsks from the other couch, “why don’t you show me if all of that wasted time is worth it?”

His words would’ve gone ignored if Ari didn’t choke you on his fingers again, pulling you out of that dizzy headspace. You suckle on his digits and heave, tears well in your eyes as your panties get slicker. Rocking faster and harder, you chase that euphoria that makes your clit tingle. Pitiful whimpers escape your full mouth, you don’t want to stop, it feels too good.

Ari’s fingers withdraw from your mouth with a lewd pop, “C’mon, we don’t have all day.” He points up his foot, making you cry out.

You quickly raise your hips and bend over, nuzzling your owner’s crotch while the other men leer at the shiny leather and soaked fabric covering your mound. Just spotting the sticky outline of your swollen folds and your needy button begging for relief.

“We can’t see anything with your wet panties in the way, dummy.” Mr. Rogers chuckles, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Take ‘em off.”

With a final nod from Ari, you slip off your underwear. The rush of cold draws a gasp from your throat, and your hot, weepy centre is not only victim to the cool air, but the eager eyes of your owner’s friends. Cream coats your pussy and your hole clenches around nothing, your puffy clit showing just how much you’ve been teased. After all, you have been riding Ari’s boot since the ‘meeting’ started.

Your knees are sore but you don’t care, you wanted any piece of Ari he would offer. Aching for him and his warmth, you whine and feebly attempt to get closer from your position between his spread thighs. Your cheek presses against his stiff bulge and your mouth waters for his heavy weight on your tongue—but you’ve been a bad, interruptive bunny, you don’t deserve playtime with daddy.

“Poor baby, why are you crying?” Mr. Barber asks, dark eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Want—I want daddy’s cock,” your bottom lip trembles, “wanna suck his dick and taste his cum.”

A switch flips and Mr. Barber smirks, all of the worry replaced with sick glee. “Are you sure you just want his cock? I’ve heard you love having his sack on your face and sometimes you just suck on his balls.” His words only make you cry harder out of pure want. You nod helplessly, making all of the men chuckle. “Sweet bunny wants daddy’s milk so bad, you’ll just—what did you call it, Ari?”

“Nurse on my balls,” Ari answers smugly, rubbing your head. “She’ll just wait until I’m close and shove my cock down her throat. I’m surprised she has room in her tummy at all—pretty thing always wants to taste my cum.”

“What a slutty cum-bunny.” Mr. Hansen’s eyes are still locked on your drippy cunt. “She has cum for brains, I bet.”

“Curtis and Bucky are gonna be pissed when they hear about what they missed.” Mr. Rogers snorts, “they both have a thing for little cum dummies.”

“Well then, maybe next time they should keep their word.” Ari rubs that special spot behind your furry ear, making your eyes glaze over and your jaw go slack. They could almost see every thought leave your head. “Right, pet? Aren't Curtis and Bucky just so mean to forget about you?”

You nod in a daze, staring up at him with so much love and trust that he almost devours you right there. “So m-mean, daddy…”

You don’t notice that the other men have moved closer, Steve and Lloyd looming behind you while Andy inches closer. His fingers trace to your other sweet spot behind your other ear and you nearly forget to breathe. Their gentle touch could soothe you to sleep like a lullaby and also make you immensely needier from the sensitivity. You know it’s more of the latter considering the heat fluttering in your stomach.

“Sweet, submissive girls like you shouldn’t ever be pushed aside. You deserve the spotlight.” Mr. Barber coos gently, “Don’t you agree, fellas?”

“She’s meant to be a star.” Lloyd crouches down behind you, slowly slicing your nightie with his knife, the silk falling to the floor and exposing more of your glowy skin. He leans close, inhaling your sweet, heady scent. “You wanna be a star, bunny?”

Again, you nod. “Yes, pl-please.” You say politely, jumping when Steve’s hand lands on your ankle, prompting you to spread your legs wider.

“I think you need to ask your daddy, dummy.” The blond tuts.

You lean forward, arching your back just like your daddy taught you—your owner liked it and his friends did too. A broken whine flows from your lips when someone brushes your puffy tail at the same time one long finger pierces your tight cunt, sliding knuckle deep and teasingly brushing your spot.

You turn just in time to watch Lloyd spit, his saliva runs down your puckered hole to your cunt, joining your creaminess. You moan and bite your lip, wiggling your bum in a silent plea. The brunet smirks knowingly and spits twice more, this time, getting close enough for it to harshly splatter on your rosebud and sticky pussy.

“Dirty bunny, you’re such a good little set of holes.” He praises, pulling out his finger to trail up and down your slit, smearing your wetness. “Been too fuckin’ long since I’ve had a taste.”

Your head snaps up, “Can Mr. Hansen taste me, daddy?”

Ari makes a thoughtful hum, “You want him to lick your pussy?”

“And o-other things…” You exhale shakily when Lloyd’s fingers return to your hungry hole, penetrating and easily building a slow and steady pace, “I want him to, uhm, suck on my thingy…”

“On your what?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, “my bunny button.” You were his plaything, his obedient pet, but you could never get used to saying nasty things. “I want—can Mr. Hansen suck on m-my bunny button, daddy?” You give him your best pout and even tuck your hands under your chin, “can he?” Your white ears fall slack against your cheeks, framing your face.

He always said that if you were a real bunny, your ears would drag on the floor and you’d trip on them.

Ari stares down at you, his head cocked to the side and his long brown hair brushing his cheekbones. “No. You didn’t say please.”

Your ears perk up in distress, “But—” Your voice breaks into a squeal when Steve grips your tail firmly.

“Better watch your next words, bunny.”

“I-I wasn’t gonna say something bad…” You shrink under all of their hard gazes, trapped under the shady blue. “Never say anythin’ bad to daddy… I promise, just ask him. Right, daddy? I don’t say anythin’ bad?”

Ari squints playfully, “but were you thinking of saying something bad?”

“No! Always thinkin’ nothing!”

The men laugh at your cluelessness.

Steve loosens his grip and threads his fingers through the soft fur of your tail, “You’re so soft, bunny. Your daddy takes such good care of you, keeping you all clean, healthy and pretty. You know how many other bunnies would be jealous that they don’t have a good daddy like you do?”

You don’t want to think of that. Regardless if he meant it, your mind instantly went to other bunnies taking your daddy. You’d never let that happen! You despised being away from him for more than a day and couldn’t handle losing him to someone else.

You hated thinking about it, but your short time in the breeding program was the loneliest you’ve ever felt. The silent darkness would eat you up, only to spit you out when your next appointment came. Thankfully, you were never bred because Ari saved you before that, but you heard horror stories about the sessions from his friends.

Those tales are lived nightmares for some, where your kind is reduced to nothing but a hole, fucked and tossed aside until a more fertile subject came along.

Hybrid numbers have been declining for decades, and in turn, the breeding industry has been steadily growing until recent years when the business started booming. Your kind was bought and sold, traded around until landing in the breeding program put in place to fix the diminishing numbers.

That’s where you were before Ari found you, unowned and desperate for any sort of connection. That’s why you latched onto him so tightly, clung to him like he was your lifetime—because that’s what he was. You never had an owner before him, so you didn’t know what was expected of you. Ari, as patient as can be, taught you everything you know and continues to give you lessons every day.

You’ve only made it this far because of him. Of course, you wanted to save the other hybrids, but you refused to give up your daddy.

Craving that sugary-sweet intimacy, you start pawing at his crotch but fail to unbuckle his belt. “Your cock please, daddy.”

“I think Steve asked you a question.”

Frustrated and upset, you faceplant on his dick dramatically, you wanted to at least mouth at his bulge, but he didn't give you permission yet. You weren’t a naughty bunny, but you didn’t want to think, you didn’t want to speak, you just wanted to feel close to Ari and have him in your mouth. “Ugh! Don’t know! L-Lots?!”

“All of them.” Another finger slips in alongside Lloyd’s and both slowly stretch out your hole, prying you open. “All those whores in the breeding industry wish they could be you. Getting coddled, loved on, and given everything you could ever ask for…”

“Your daddy saved you from there, bunny.” Andy finishes with a pointed look, “You better be grateful or else he’s sending you back.”

Ari wouldn’t ever do that, but he doesn’t correct his friend. He wants to see those fat tears pour from your eyes.

“No, daddy! Don’t send me back!” As if on cue, you start crying again. Not only from the fear of going back to that terrible industry and losing your daddy but the four fingers stuffed into your pussy and working you open thoroughly. They hit deep and in sync, splitting you wide as more spit splatters on your core. Your stomach tightens as a mixture of their saliva and your slick dribbles onto the floor.

Daddy was gonna make you clean that up later, you just knew it.

“Where are your manners?” A palm collides with your ass and the pain sizzles up your spine to your foggy head, shoving you deep under.

You struggle to meet your owner’s gaze with most of your upper body weight on his lap, and if you could, you’d crawl into his warmth. Even now, your body has a mind of its own and thrusts against the two hands behind you, “Please, daddy, don’t send me back… I love you.”

The three other men snicker about how cute you are.

You can’t hear them very well over the rush of blood flowing through your head. You squeak when a finger circles your rosebud, and doesn’t waste any time in sliding to the hilt. Your bones turn to sludge and your face lands on Ari’s hard cock again.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he smiles, “And, I love you, bunny.” He pets you before securing a hand on the back of your head, shifting his hips until his dick rubs against your lips. Your mouth opens automatically and you suckle at his bulge, tongue gliding over the denim.

“Look at that, bunny still wants daddy’s milk,” Andy murmurs, wiping your tears before sucking them off his fingers, groaning lowly at the bitter taste.

“She’s gonna get a lot of milk today,” Ari growls.

With your eyes shut in bliss, you fuck yourself on Lloyd and Steve’s fingers, muffled ah, ah, ah’s pouring out into the hot air, harmonizing with the sopping wet sounds. Their fingers are so big and thick, and even though they aren’t your daddy’s, they’re good in a different way. Good enough to make your thighs quiver as they speed up.

“Little bunny is going dumb.” Lloyd mocks, increasing his pace as your juices run down his arm, “Steve, fit two more.”

You see the light for a millisecond as all touches abandon both of your holes. The air fills your lungs with a deep inhale before you’re plunged into the depths again. Lloyd has replaced Steve’s two fingers in your cunt, filling you up with four of his, immediately hooking inside you to hit that rough patch. He pumps into you, feeling awfully tempted to slip his thumb in and give you something to really cry about—none of this you didn’t say please bullshit.

A warmth brushes your face before the familiar musk seeps into your head. Your eyes shoot open and you latch onto Ari’s sack, nuzzling your nose into his pubic hair to take one of his balls in your mouth. Low purrs ripple from your throat, sending vibrations through his body.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He jerks his leaky cock, breathing heavily. “Good bunny, such a good little pet for daddy. Finally getting what you want. Thank me for all the fuckin’ cum I’ve given you.”

Andy is unable to look away from your full mouth struggling to both of Ari’s balls, you’re trying so hard but you’re so small and dumb, nearly choking yourself. Your saliva smears down your chin, following in the trails of your previous tears, making you look like the perfect slutty pet.

“Look at you, nursing on daddy’s sack.” Ari grunts, tapping your temple until your eyes flutter open. “Stupid baby loves having all of her holes filled, she’ll just cry if she doesn’t get daddy’s milk.”

You nod dumbly, blinking up at him through watery eyes, still messily suckling his sack. You sneak a few licks up his length, tracing those prominent veins with your tongue.

Ari gathers the droplets from your face and brings them to his mouth again, “Fuckin’ cumdump crybaby, keep those tears coming, you know how much we love the taste.”

You hope you’re giving them all that they want— your tight holes, your salty tears, and giving your daddy his special thank you. You don’t realize you’re close until someone tugs on your tail, prompting a rush of slick to flow down your thighs and the elastic in your tummy to tighten.

Steve’s fingers prod at your puckered hole before penetrating, he works you up to it. Starting with one that’s soaked with your arousal and his saliva before adding the next and spitting some more, then repeating until he has four fingers in your tightest hole.

Too much, you try to say but your mouth is occupied.

“I know you can take four, dumb bunny. You’ve had two cock’s up here before.” His Brooklyn accent rings in your head, along with your daddy’s deep groans.

You fall further forward, trying to escape the eight fingers spearing you open.

Ari grabs both of your ears and pulls you off his balls. A string of saliva connects your lips to his wet skin. “Why are you being bad, sweetie?”

You struggle to speak with swollen lips and a sore jaw. “N-Not, daddy!”

“Now you’re being a liar too?”

You sniffle, hiccuping a quiet sob. “It was just—too much, daddy…”

Beside Ari, Andy rubs over the tent in his slacks, hungrily eating up your sad little face. “Sounds like you really want to go back to the breeding program. Is that what you want? Because I’ll have my friends take you back there tonight, you won’t even get a final sleep in your princess bed or your pretty cage.”

“No, no, please.” You beg, pressing your face into Ari’s thigh. “Don’t wanna go back ever, daddy.”

He pets you gently, calming you down and moving your face back to his crotch. “Better make it up to those nice men behind you then, bunny.”

Now a sniffling mess, completely caught between the pleasure of their dexterous fingers and the nervousness filling your heart, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please, forgive me—” Your tail is tugged and you’re forcefully pulled back onto their rough hands. You mewl, arching your back before you latch onto Ari’s sack again.

From this angle, the two men look enormous. Their wide shoulders squared, and the light fanning around their heads like a halo. They’re all you can see, your daddy is all you can taste, and Steve and Lloyd are all you can feel.

You don’t know how long they play with you, all you know is that Steve and Lloyd have successfully covered you in their spit, stretched you open, tortured your clit and spanked your ass raw. One after the other, their palms strike your behind, turning you into a stupid, blubbering mess.

Ari has alternated between pulling your sensitive ears and squeezing them. Right now, your furry ears are held back by his hand so he could watch you slobber all over his heavy sack. “You gonna come, bunny? Show daddy’s friends how messy you can be, how much you fuckin’ love being used like a little fleshlight.”

Your gaze falls onto Andy, and more importantly, his unbuttoned shirt and massive length dwarfing your hand. Your fingers can’t meet around him entirely, but that doesn’t stop him from fucking into your fist. He controls your pace too, guiding your hand with his larger ones, making you squeeze his base and rub over the drippy tip.

“Cocksleeve, cumrag, cumdump, fleshlight—wish there was something we could call you for loving balls so much.”

“Sackslut.” Lloyd chuckles cruelly, “ballsbitch.”

“Ain’t that cute? Are you gonna thank Lloyd for giving you such pretty names, bunny?” Ari asks.

You would if you could but you were so all over the place, stretched out between four dominant men until you were a thin sheet of silk, floating in the wind and going wherever the breeze took you.

This particular breeze brought you to garbled moans and unstoppable tears.

Ari and Andy’s dark eyes lock on your face contorted in helplessness, their jaws clenched tight under their thick beards.

Just barely, you recall when they passed you around like a doll, making you ride their faces one after the other, rubbing your poor folds raw with their facial hair. You couldn’t walk for days after that, Ari had to carry you around like a real pet and bring you to all his meetings. Oh, and you had to look at all of his business partners that day, knowing well enough that five of them—counting Mr. Everett and Mr. Barnes—would be staying back because of Mr. Levinson’s famous hospitality.

They were as big and bad as your daddy, and just like him, they could be mean and cold-hearted but also sweet-talkers who gave the best kisses and cuddles, always bringing you gifts and turning your world into an array of colours and tingles.

Ari was everything you could have wished for, and his friends only multiplied that.

You’ve never had an owner or a daddy, and now it feels like you have six.

All it takes is Ari roughly tugging your ears when Steve pulls your tail for the wave to crash over. You cry out obscenely as blinding white erupts in your mind. Ari and Andy hiss when your nails pierce their thighs, locking them close as tremors rock through you.

Your juices spurt out, coating Lloyd’s hand and adding to the pathetic mess below. Your cunt convulses, forcing his fingers out as Steve becomes relentless, hungry for those little twitches and gasps you do whenever it gets too much. Right now, he wants it to be too much.

“Keep sucking on daddy’s balls, bunny.”

Pre cum smears on your face as you nuzzle deeper, suckling on his sack greedily through irregular breaths and sobs. Your knees are numb from the position and when Steve finally yields, you collapse forward.

“M-Milk, daddy.”

“Not yet, baby.” Ari hisses, his arm veins tense as he fists his base, fighting off his high but you’re greedy. You sloppily kiss up the underside of his length, just reaching the bulbous tip before he shoves you away. “I said not yet. You’re lucky if you even get a drop after that.”

“But I want you, daddy.” You weep, gnawing at his pant-clad thigh, your spit soaks the fabric. “Please, want you so bad—need you.”

Despite your pleas, he halfheartedly tucks himself away. Your bottom lip trembles when his throbbing flesh is back in his pants, the bulge still proudly prominent but you can’t see him, taste him. Andy follows suit and soon, you’re the only one still exposed. Sweaty, aching and ruined, knelt between the four of them like vulnerable prey.

Ari pets your spot. “I know you do, but remember what we were talking about before?”

Disoriented, you shake your head. Your orgasm still prickles at your skin, low vibrations flowing through your system as it dies down. You're about to ask him to clarify when a harsh spank lands on your clit. The burn is soothed by two, rough fingers. They circle your nub harshly, making you weakly squirt again.

“Poor bunny button—so swollen, huh? I bet it hurts if I just—” Steve is cut off by your whimper as he pinches your clit. Meanly rolling the nub between his fingers, bullying your most sensitive spot.

“Steve, she can’t think if you’re doing that.” Ari chastises.

“She doesn’t think anyway.” Lloyd rubs up your back, feeling the heat of your flesh. “She’s just a dumb and ditzy baby.”

Steve begrudgingly obeys. He just loved your bunny button—playing with it, sucking it, he loved watching it get swollen and responsive. He has yet to convince Ari to try out other methods of stimulating your tasty nub, but he refuses to give up.

After giving you a final pinch, he pulls away and licks his fingers, unable to resist your taste. “Remember last time, pet? Just you, your daddy and me.”

“She wanted you instead of me.” Ari scowls bitterly, “you like him more than me?”

“No, daddy! I just—” It was Ari’s beard. He had ruined you the previous night, eating you for dessert in the car back home and for breakfast the next morning. You couldn’t handle that coarse treatment thrice in a row.

Steve pinches your button again. “She thought she took the easy way out.”

Out of all of your daddy’s friends, Steve was always clean-shaven, so he was less brutal on your cunt, but he loved to torture you. Overstimulation was his favourite thing and he’d draw orgasm after orgasm out of you, making you fall into a heap of sweat, spit, and cum. And while you’re half-conscious, he’d torment your clit until you fully woke up again.

Lloyd crawls next to you, cupping your face with the same hand that was knuckle-deep inside you. “Ask your daddy to make you a star.”

Another slap on your cunt has you falling forward and tears springing from your eyes. Your cheek lands on Ari’s thigh and his muscles flex under his slacks. You’re so close to his cock, a few inches more and you could suck him through his pants.

“God, what are these fuckin’ ears for.” Lloyd huffs, “did you hear me? I said to ask daddy to make you a star.”

You gulp nervously, “Can I, uh, please be a star, daddy?”

“How could I deny you when you ask so nicely…” He trails off, his voice leading the way for the rest of your senses to slowly flood back in.

They come in pieces, from the sunlight pouring in through the sheer blinds, to the feel of the velvet couch before you, and to the smell of sweat and sex in the air.

“To make you a star, we’ll have to make a movie, bunny.” Ari tilts your head up with his knuckle, “You wanna make a movie with daddy and his friends?”

Making a movie? Like the ones you’ve seen on television with the explosions, convoluted storylines and ambiguous endings? You couldn’t imagine yourself in one of those.

“What kind of movie?”

“Oh, just a special one. It’ll show how close we all are, and how much we love you.” Ari explains loosely in a low tone, “how much you love us… how much you love what we do to you.”

Without much thought, you agree. “Okay, daddy, we can make a movie.”

All of their faces break out in matching grins, brighter than the sun and stars combined but with endless sin lingering behind.

Ari raises his hand and the tall, glass french doors open, and two men enter. One is younger with frosted tips and circular glasses. The other has long hair that brushes his swaying shoulders and a sick twinkle in his eyes.

You wonder how long they've been waiting, or if they saw what just happened, but your short attention span brings you to the strange things they’re carrying in.

It’s a bunch of equipment you’ve never seen before, from cameras to lights and a discrete black box.

“That’s Jensen and Mr. Pronge. Daddy picked them just for you, they’re the best in the business and they’re gonna help us make you a star.” Ari pets your special spot again, making your head fall slack on his thigh, inches from his clothed throbbing length. “Because my bunny is so perfect that the whole fuckin’ world deserves to know it.”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: my kinktober should’ve just been called Aritober bc he’s taking over my life. I also wrote another character coming to ‘help make the movie,’ a certain Dr. D but took it out, I wouldn’t mind posting the little drabble though 👹

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check my kinktober masterlist for the doctor ransom drabble !!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 7 months

Text

Vickie had been invited to Steve’s house by Robin, and she was completely nervous. It was a pool party which meant swimsuits. Should she go sexy or conservative? Fuck it, she's wearing a bikini. Over the bikini, she wore a pair of jeans shorts and a floral tank top. Vickie stared at her reflection in the mirror. She ruffled up her hair and pouted, and then she scowled.

"Why I am so pale?!" Vickie exclaimed.

"Once again, dear, I apologize for passing on my genes to you," her father said as he leaned against her doorway. "I like you, so should Robin. Although not in the same way."

"Dad! You have to like me," Vickie rolled her eyes.

"Everything's going to work out," Matthew said and grabbed his daughter by the shoulders shaking her. "You just have to believe in yourself the way that I do."

"I'm starting to regret telling you," Vickie rolled her eyes.

"You know that I'm proud of you, right?" He asked. "And if your mother were still here with us, she'd proud of you too."

"Thanks, Daddy," Vickie said softly. "I just wish I got to tell her."

"Oh, pumpkin, I think she always knew," Matthew told her.

"How do you know that?" She asked.

"She's your mother. Nothing ever got past her," he said. "Now, do we need to do something breathing exercises?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, now what do we tell our anxiety first?"

"To go to hell!"

"Damn straight or in your case not so straight!"

"Daddy!"

Vickie stood in front of the large house and was immediately intimated by its size.

"It's weirdly huge, right?" A voice, and she looked to find Eddie Munson standing next to her. "I always feel like it's going to eat me. You must be Vickie."

"And you must be Eddie Munson," Vickie said in amusement.

"Nah. I'm the guy that ate him," Eddie said sarcastically, and Vickie laughed.

"You're weird," she said. "My dad would like you."

"You should know now, Vickie, that my heart is pining away for someone else. . .just so you don't get your hopes up," Eddie said.

"So is mine," she replied.

"Good, now that that's settled," Eddie told her. "What's got you so nervous?"

"The idea of taking off my clothes," Vickie scoffed.

"Yeah, same here. I've got some nasty scars recently, and they're not quite done healing. Almost. They're ugly as hell," Eddie sighed.

"I've got a scar on my stomach from a car accident when I was little, but I decided to say "fuck it" and wear a bikini anyway," Vickie said.

"That's my kind of spirit. Fuck it," Eddie grinned. "Ready to head inside, my lady?"

"I am now," Vickie said.

The party was in full swing. All of Steve and Robin's friends were here. They were Eddie's friends now, too. Jonathan Byers, some guy named Argyle who Vickie immediately liked, and Nancy Wheeler. Vickie wasn't at all curious that Steve was friends with his ex, as she was still very much friends with hers. Robin seemed to be friends with her, too. There was this bond there that connected all of them, and she wasn't sure what it was, but she was glad they had it. There was this warm feeling of family amongst all of them. The one thing she hated, though, was the fear behind their eyes and the way they all jumped sometimes. Something told her that the bond they formed didn't start from a very good place. It wasn't her story to tell, though, so she wasn't going to pry.

"Whatcha thinking about, Lady Fisher?" Eddie asked as he plopped down in the lawn chair next to hers.

Vickie had gotten tired out from swimming and had decided to sprawl out into one of the lawn chairs. She had started thinking about the way Robin's eyes landed on hers when she started taking off her clothes, and the way remained steadfast on her face as though they were trying not to look anywhere else. It had made Vickie blush and somehow her thoughts had drifted.

"Life," Vickie told Eddie.

"Ah, yes, that bitch," Eddie said and Vickie giggled.

Her eyes landed on Robin and Steve talking animatedly with one another as they stuck their feet in the pool. She could have sworn she saw Robin say her name, and it made Vickie blush. She didn't realize that Eddie was talking to her until Eddie was snapping his fingers in front of her face.

"Hmm?" She asked.

"Is the person you like Steve?" Eddie scowled.

"What?!" Vickie exclaimed. "No."

Eddie turned his head at the same time hers did. His eyes landed on Argyle nearby.

"Argyle?" He asked.

"Well, no, I mean, a little, but I think everyone likes Argyle just a bit. I mean. . .," Vickie trailed off.

"Except for Robin," they said at the same time.

They gasped and slapped their hands on their mouths at the same time. Vickie did not mean to say that, although it didn't necessarily imply that Robin is a lesbian. Still. Wait. . .Vickie removed her hand at the same time that he did.

"You know?!" They hissed.

"How do you know?!"

"She told me!"

"Stop that!"

They stayed quiet for a while. Eddie looked at her thoughtfully.

"If it's not Argyle, then . . . "

Vickie sighed and grabbed his head. She pointed him at Robin. He gasped and then looked at her in annoyance.

"I was getting there," he said defensively.

"Sure, you were," Vickie laughed and released his head.

"Just so you know, I call dibs on Steve," Eddie said.

"You can't call dibs on a person," she said.

"Sure you can. I just did," he said with a grin and rubbed his stomach, wincing.

"Your scars hurting you?" Vickie asked.

"The pain comes and goes," Eddie shrugged. "You're not curious about how I got them?"

"I am, but I'm not going to question it if you don't want me to know," Vickie said. "Besides, I just met you."

"Yes, but I have this feeling that we're like Steve and Robin. Platonic soulmates and what not," Eddie said. "I mean, how do you think they got there?"

"Well, they were in Starcourt together," Vickie said.

"Ooh, so, you think shared trauma? See, I knew about Starcourt," Eddie frowned. "I don't think we have any shared trauma. I mean, I was once in a car accident, too."

"Really?" Vickie asked gently.

"Yeah, my mom died in that accident. I was in the car with her. She threw her body on top of mine," Eddie said, his voice catching. "We were coming back from Indie when this drunk driver came out of nowhere. It caused a pretty bad pileup."

"Was it on the road with the really creepy scarecrow that no one ever does anything about?" Vickie asked.

"Yeah. I guess you heard about it like everyone else?" Eddie asked.

"Eddie. . .I think we have shared trauma," Vickie said, tears in her eyes. "Me and my mom were in that accident. My mom also died that day."

"Shit," Eddie said and moved quickly to hug her.

They were interrupted by Robin and Steve coming over to check on them.

"Is everything okay?" Robin asked.

"Yeah," Vickie said, her face wet with tears. "We were talking about our moms."

"Oh," Robin and Steve said in unison, a look of understanding in their eyes.

"Vickie, do you want to talk more inside?" Eddie asked softly and she nodded.

Eddie put his arm around her as they walked inside. They ended up on the floor of the nearest bathroom, unknowingly recreating Steve and Robin's own special moment. They talked for a while until their bathing suits were very nearly dry. They talked about how wonderful their moms were. Vickie told him how her mom used to read to her at bedtime and how she used to make her dance on her feet when they were dancing in the kitchen. Eddie told her all about how he got his love of his music from his mother even though she never could carry a tune, but she could tell a story like no one else. They talked about how they wished they were still here, how they could tell their moms about themselves.

"My mom would love Robin," Vickie said.

"My mom would love Steve, and she would love the fact that Steve would probably be the one to teach her how to cook. She always hated that she didn't know how to do that," Eddie grinned.

They went on to talk about how they hated the fact that they had to share this trauma, but there was also some relief in knowing that they didn't have to go through it alone. Eddie stood up and clapped his hands.

"Alright, enough of this sad shit," Eddie said and jumped up. "I think we're officially soulmates now."

He put his hand and helped her up, hugging her tightly.

"Definitely platonic," Vickie giggled. "You remind me too much of my dad."

They left the bathroom and found that everyone had gone home.

"How long were we in there for?" Eddie asked.

They headed to the kitchen where Robin and Steve were cleaning up.

"Party's over?" Vickie asked.

"Yeah, everyone got tired really quickly. It was weird how quickly they got so tired," Robin said, and Steve nudged her in the side.

Vickie grinned and pulled Eddie off to the side.

"I just got a great idea," Vickie said.

"And what, pray tell, is cooking in that head of yours, Fisher?" Eddie asked.

"We should ask them out together right now!" Vickie said excitedly.

"Are you crazy?" Eddie asked.

"Come on, we both know that life is short, and we could kick it at any time. They're worth risking it all, yeah," Vickie said. "Besides, they can't reject us if we're coming at them from both sides."

"Hmm, I am not seeing a single flaw in your logic," Eddie said thoughtfully and grinned. "Let's do it!"

They moved back over to Robin and Steve.

"What the hell was that all about?" Steve asked.

"That was our first official platonic soulmate huddle," Eddie said.

"Oh, so, you guys are platonic soulmates now?" Steve asked.

"That's cute," Robin said, smiling. "I mean, you know as in, you know . . . You know what I mean."

"Wait, how are we going to do this?" Eddie asked.

"Well, I figured you would look at Steve, and then I would look at Robin," Vickie said. "Then we ask them."

Eddie shot her finger guns and then leaned against the island across from them. Vickie leaned against the island, looking at Robin.

"We want to know - " Eddie nudged Vickie as he continued to gaze into Steve’s eyes.

"If you guys would like to - " Vickie said, nudging him back.

"Go out with us!" They finished together.

"Well, that was fucking cute," Steve said.

"But I think we're going to have to have a huddle of our own," Robin said, winking at Vickie.

They couldn't move very far away, but they talked quietly for a moment before squealing and then jumping up and down. They calmed down and straightened up while wiping imaginary lint off of their clothes. They walked back over, looking serious.

"We accept!" Steve and Robin exclaimed.

"But you should know that you guys didn't have to become platonic soulmates just to ask us out," Steve said.

"I know. It kind of just happened," Vickie shrugged and grinned at Eddie.

Eddie took her by the shoulders and moved Vickie directly in front of Robin.

"I am handing you my platonic soulmate. Be careful with her," Eddie said.

"And the same to you," Robin said as she pushed Steve towards Eddie.

"Why does this feel like a drug deal?" Steve asked.

"Maybe it's because you're the best kind of drug, baby," Eddie said, kissing his cheek.

"That was a good one," Vickie said.

Steve blushed and squeezed Eddie's shoulder, causing him to wince. That's when he noticed that Eddie was slightly pink.

"Eddie! You're sunburned! I told you to use sunscreen," Steve said.

"I'm a rebel, baby," Eddie winked at him.

"Oh, so you want to get skin cancer?!" Steve exclaimed.

"I smoke too! Do you want to tell me about getting lung cancer?" Eddie scoffed.

"Yes! I only ever had the occasional smoke, and I quit," Steve rolled his eyes.

"Is this how it's going to be? You worrying about me?" Eddie asked with a grin.

"Yes!" Steve said, and Eddie wrapped his arms around him, kissing his cheek. "Plus, I'd rather you not have to use an oxygen tank in between makeout sessions."

"Fair point," Eddie laughed.

Vickie and Robin giggled before sharing a look.

"Dinguses!" They exclaimed.

"Our platonic dinguses," Vickie said, and Robin kissed her cheek, causing her to blush.

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shadeysprings · 1 year

Text

Fabled Memories

—Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Summary: You wake up one evening, battered and bruised, but have no recollection of how it came to be.

Warnings: implied kidnapping, basement wife vibes, amnesia & character death. There may be more, but remember that this is a dark fic, so please tread carefully.

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's Week Three Challenge: Something New and the trope I chose was Amnesia and Basement Wife. I've always wanted to write something that had the basement wife element and the thoughts just kept brewing. Plus, I've been antsy to write Steve again.

p.s. I may turn this into a mini-series.

Your feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated. Support content creators! And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️

The silence that fills the cafe is a welcome respite after dealing with the onslaught of impatient customers during the morning rush hour. It’s already half past eleven when you glance down at your watch, taking it as a cue to wipe down on the counter and fill the machine with the coffee beans to prepare for the second wave of patrons for the lunch rush.

While stacking the display case with pastries and sandwiches alike, you hear the bell chime and recite on instinct your customer service spiel.

“I hope I can trouble you for a cup.” The familiar voice echoes in your ears and you look up, surprised to see Steve Rogers on the other side, smiling at you when your eyes meet.

“You’re early today, Captain.” You tell him and immediately make quick work of his usual order; a brewed coffee with two sugars and one cream. “You don’t usually stop by til after noon.”

“Yeah—well, Tony called in for a meeting today.” He huffs his response, propping his hand on his waist while the other rests on the counter, fingers drumming against the marble surface. “Wanted to discuss something about proper etiquette for the gala this coming Friday.”

That makes you snort, Steve looking at you curiously when you snap the lid on the cup and place it down on the counter. He looks at you expectantly and you shake your head instead, standing by the register to ring up his order.

“What is it?” He urges, though gently, amusement painting on his face as he keeps his eyes on you. “You’re laughing at what I said.”

“I’m not laughing.” You say in defense but the Avenger only raises an eyebrow in question. So you cave, “It’s just funny thinking Mr. Stark would be talking about proper etiquette when the videos scattering online suggests otherwise. No offense to him though.”

He laughs and so do you. “No offense taken, doll. Even Sam thinks the same.” The pet name still puts you off but you’ve gotten used to it over the year of making him his coffee. He slides a hundred to you after giving him his total and you count up his change. “Oh, you keep the change. You should know by now that I don’t take it.”

“I—” You stare at the bills in your hand before looking back at him. “But this is a little too much, Captain. I couldn’t possibly—”

“Of course you can. It’s a tip and you deserve it.” He smiles and takes the paper cup from the countertop, raising it up to you. “You make my coffee better than any of Stark’s fancy cappuccino machines and besides, I want to help you get that car you wanted.”

“Oh—you remembered that?”

“How can I not?” He leans closer. “You kept talking about it and the way your eyes sparkled when you did just told me that you wanted it so bad.”

You chuckle and give him a smile. “I already got it actually. My husband—he got it for me as an anniversary pr—Oh god!”

You gasp and take a sudden step back when his coffee bursts in his hand, immediately making your way to the back to grab the mop and walking to where he stands to clean up the mess. But your eyes widen and you feel an unexpected chill run up your spine when you see the discarded paper cup on the floor, crushed.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve apologizes in a rush, waving him off when he tries to take the mop from you. “I guess I didn’t know my own strength.” He blurts out and you try to keep your cool as you busy yourself with the task, picking up the cup from the ground and heading back to the counter to discard it in the bin.

“It’s alright.” You breathe, trying to keep the growing nervousness at bay. “Accidents happen. Let me make you a new one. On the house.” You tell him and quickly turn to make a fresh cup before he could even say anything.

The comfortable silence from earlier turns a new leaf, feeling an uncertain tension building around the both of you and making you move at a measured pace. You feel Steve’s eyes burning the back of your head and you fight to dismiss the unease, convincing yourself that it was indeed an accident. The serum couldn’t be that perfect, right?

“You never mentioned you were married.” His tone is calm yet somewhat accusatory, your fingers shaking as you add the sugar to the brew. “I never even saw you wearing a ring.”

“I—I’m not allowed to wear it during my shift.” You explain matter of factly, forcing a smile when you snap the lid and turn to face him. “Sanitation and all.”

“I see,” He nods and takes the cup when you hold it out to him, his fingers brushing against yours, lingering before he pulls away. “Well, your husband is one lucky bastard to have a pretty thing like you as his wife.” You can’t help the blush that creeps up your neck from the compliment.

You look to the door when the bell suddenly chimes, several of the working class customers lining up behind Steve while they look up at the menu to decide on their order.

“I guess I should let you go.” His serious tone is gone, replaced by a cheerful one yet you feel that his words mean so much more than just leaving the cafe. “I’ll see you around, doll.” He says with finality with another of his friendly smiles before turning to leave but not without the customers stopping to ogle him as he walks past the door.

You don’t see Steve for a week and you don’t want to admit it but you find his absence a relief. Your last encounter with him was awkward, something unusual for he seems to always be cool and collected when he comes over and gets his usual order. You’d dare to even say that the both of you are more than acquaintances with how much you’ve shared with each other while he waits for his coffee.

Even Caleb, your husband, is jealous that you get to meet the great Captain America—with him being a fan of the Avengers like they were movie stars. It did give you the idea of asking Steve if he could meet your husband, a small surprise you’re planning for his coming birthday. Though you’ll wait til he comes back and you just hope that by then, the tension between the both of you has completely subsided.

“Hey there, I’m looking for a pretty girl who works here. Answers to ‘my love’ and sometimes ‘Mrs. Stinky Butt.’” You turn your head as you lock the shop doors, laughing at Caleb's commentary before smiling when you see the bouquet of sunflowers nestled in his arms.

“I think she prefers ‘my love’ more, Mr. Stinky Butt.” You retort and greet your husband with a hug, humming softly when he plants a soft kiss on your lips and wraps an arm snuggly around your waist. “What are the flowers for?” You ask before leaning over and taking a whiff of their scent.

“Well, it has been a while since you did a closing shift and I know how tough it can be,” He begins, “So—I thought of a night full of activities to pamper my gorgeous wife so you can start your day tomorrow fully relaxed.”

You hum in thought while walking with him to your car. “I’m listening.”

“Okay, so the flowers were first and it has already succeeded.” He says proudly and you chuckle at the wide grin he gives you. “There is a delicious take out dinner waiting for you at home—”

“Number Nine?” You ask in anticipation.

“The very one,” He confirms and you bounce in excitement before urging him to continue. “I also got us some face masks we can indulge in and we can end the night with popcorn and a movie of your choosing.”

“Even the sappy romantic ones?”

“Especially the sappy romantic ones.” Caleb says and you quickly wrap your arms around him tightly, feeling your heart grow full with love for the man you call your husband. “Whoa—hug attack!” He exclaims and you laugh when he wraps his arms around you just as tight and spins you around.

“Thank you, Babe.” You breathe when he sets you down, basking in the warmth of his embrace as the night breeze surrounds the both of you. “You’re the best.”

“No. You are—” He retorts before nuzzling his nose against yours. “And the best only deserves the best.”

You watch the scenery of the night as you stare out the window, unconsciously lifting the flowers to your nose to take in their scent once again. A smile kisses your lips when you feel Caleb’s hand rest on your thigh but wonder why they feel tense. Slowly, you reach down and take his hand in yours, pressing a kiss to each of his knuckles before turning in your seat to face him.

“You have your seatbelt on, baby?” He asks, his voice strained as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Tell me you’re strapped in. Please.” He urges.

“I am—” You answer, feeling nervous when he only gives you a quick glance before turning back to face the road. “Is something wrong?” The way his grip tights around the wheel has your heart beat spiking. “Caleb?”

“I’m going to tell you something but you have to promise me that you won’t freak out, okay?” His voice is calm yet you can tell he’s nervous all the same. “Promise me, babe. I need you to stay calm and listen carefully.”

“I promise.” You choke out, your hand tightening on his fingers. “I’ll be calm.”

“Okay—I need you to call 911 and tell them we’re at the freeway on 71.” He starts, “Tell them that you’re in the car with your husband and that the breaks are not working.”

“What?!” You gasp and drop the flowers to the floor. “Caleb—wh-what happened?! What—why?”

“Babe, calm down. You promised me.” He coos, turning your hand in his before pulling it to him and pressing the back of your palm against his cheek. “Now, breathe for me, baby. Breathe then get your phone and make the call. And you have to tell them we’re running 80 miles.”

“Okay.” You nod, swallowing thickly as you try to quell your fear. “Okay.” With your free hand, you grab your clutch on the center console and take out your phone. Your fingers begin fidgeting as you dial the number as fast as you can, your knee bouncing as you wait for the responder to answer.

But fear encapsulates you in a tight cocoon, suffocating you when no one picks up. You try again, and again, but you still end up with the same result.

“Why is no one answering?!” You say in a panic and look over at Caleb, his eyes focused and his face only illuminated by lights from the lamp posts.

“Fuck!” He grunts and releases your hand, looking around after before facing the road. “Get out of your seat, babe, and I want you to go to the back and strap yourself in.” He instructs.

“But Ca—”

“No questions, babe. Just do it. Please.” He almost begs and you nod, quickly unbuckling your seat belt before climbing to the back and strapping yourself in once again. “Tell me once you’re done.”

“I’m buckled in.” Your voice quivers as you look ahead, whispering a silent prayer to the heavens. “What are we going to do?”

You hear the car rev before it starts to lose control, Caleb gripping tight on the wheel as he tries to center it on the road. You let out a scream when the car goes off road, several vehicles honking and swerving to get out of the way. Darkness completely shrouds the car as you enter, what you hope is a grassy field, a shriek escaping your lips when you hit a wired fence.

You try to focus on Caleb’s eyes on the rear view mirror, trying to look for a semblance of hope that you both will be okay. But when he meets yours, you see the fear looming in his blue irises.

Desolation suddenly washes over you when he no longer looks ahead, keeping his eyes on your face. You see him reach for you and you do the same, grasping his hand tight like a lifeline. But your heart shatters when you see the tear that escapes him, one that you mirror as you feel him silently bidding you goodbye.

“I love you so much, babe.” He whispers. “I’m so darn lucky to have met you.”

“Caleb—” You croak as you try to wipe your own tears. “What are you saying? We’ll be okay, right?” You whimper before looking around to try and see if anything would save the both of you yet all you see is nothing.

Before you can turn to face him again, wanting nothing but to look at him if this was indeed the end, a loud bang echoes through the open and you jolt forward, crying loudly and screaming when your head slams roughly against the ceiling of the car. You feel the vehicle turn over, rolling uncontrollably into the void until everything stops and goes dark.

The bright, white light glares harshly against your eyes when you open them, squinting as you groan and move against the bed you lay on, trying to decipher where you are. A soft beeping sound plays on your left, and an IV drip hangs on your right, to which you find connected to you, along with several other contraptions.

You have no recollection of what happened before you woke up, not even an inkling of how you ended up in the hospital room. You don’t even know what time or day it is, the window in the far right side of the room being the only source to tell you it’s night time.

Pain then rushes through your body as you try to sit up, seeing your left leg elevated by a sling that hangs from the ceiling and feeling a bandage wrapped around your head when you lift your hand to try and ease the ache hammering in your temples.

Panic quickly consumes you as you as questions fill your head. Why are you in bandages? Why are you here? Where the hell are you? The beeping at your side starts growing frantic, and you along with it, your heart beating faster and your hands clenching into fist against the white sheets of the bed, and all at once screaming for help, crying for anyone to come to your aid.

The door to the right suddenly opens and you stop when you see a blond man enter. Worry fills his face and you see his eyes brimming with tears as he walks over to you, only stopping mid way when you hold your arms out and try to push yourself against the pillow and away from him. But such actions don't deter the stranger, only having them push on and sit at the edge of the bed, his movements slow and gentle as he reaches over and caresses the side of your face.

“Thank God, you’re awake.” He chokes out a sob before taking both of your hands in his and pressing them to his lips. “I was so worried. The doctor said it might be months before you ever woke up.” He opens your closed fist and carefully places them on his cheek, leaning against your touch.

You study his face, his golden hair looking messy and his face in obvious distraught as his forehead wrinkles when his sapphire eyes meet yours. The sleeves of his black sweater are rolled up to his elbows, showing off the strength he possesses. You feel like you’ve seen him before but you can’t place it, all sense of knowing seemingly lost as you don’t even recall anything about yourself.

“Wh—who are you?” You ask, frowning when you see the shock form on his face.

“I—” He struggles to speak, his eyes closing as he squeezes your hand. “You don’t remember me?”

“I—I’m sorry—” You mumble. “I—I don’t—should I?”

“The doctors said this would happen but I was skeptical.” You see the tears flow from his eyes and you feel a pang of pain deep in your chest upon seeing his sadness. “But don’t worry, hon. We’ll get through this.” He says with surety before opening his eyes and facing you once again. “We can start small—your name.”

He says a name and tells you that it’s yours. You feel unsure but you latch onto his words, desperate to know more.

“I’m Steve Rogers.” He says next, lacing his fingers with yours. “And I’m your husband.”

I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springdandelixn-archives and turn on notifications.

#steve rogers #navy and roo's sleepover #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #captain america #dark captain america #dark fic #fabled memories #au #mcu #shadeyspring fics

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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months

Text

Captain John Price x Female Reader Dark Romance

Chapter Specific Warnings: graphic violence, canon-typical swearing, time jump

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Part Six of Dangerous Pursuit (for @glitterypirateduck)

Community Label Warning: This chapter involves violent content that some readers might find upsetting (see above warning). You can skip to the bolded time jump and still retain the plot.

Dimitri's capture causes deadly consequences. An uprooted life comes to a grinding halt when a familiar face makes an unexpected appearance.

Chapter Five // Chapter Seven

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // dangerous pursuit masterlist

The text stares back at you like an angry, red wound.

Really? They want you to come in for a mandatory meeting on a weekday? At the last minute?

Sighing loudly, you send a reply to your boss at Thirst. You’ll be there, but because it’s outside of your contracted hours, you’ll be late. It’s frustrating because they know this, and yet they’re expecting it from you anyway. The whole reason you took the job at Thirst is because it never bleeds into your regular life. They are separate. Complete fractured. Untouching.

That is not the case at the moment. And it’s frustrating.

This “mandatory” meeting is supposed to start when you get off work from your day job. You won’t arrive at Thirst in time for the start of the meeting, but hopefully they’ll begin without you. That way, you can sneak in for the last bit and not have to stay long. The only silver-lining to this ridiculous request.

Checking the time, you frown.

Your boss sent out the message two hours ago which is not nearly enough notice. The wording of it is odd too. Beginning with an apology about the last second meeting, he then emphasizes the urgency of everyone attending. From your two years of working at Thirst you’ve never been asked to come to any staff meeting. If information needs to be distributed, it always occurs when you walk through the door for your shift.

On top of that, Steve, one of the two owners who sent the text out, is never urgent about anything. He is incredibly relaxed, sometimes almost too calm for your liking, and he rarely—if ever—contacts you outside working hours unless it’s to ask for you to come in a bit early for a scheduled shift.

“Whatever,” you mutter, locking your phone and stowing it in your purse. You’ll deal with it when you arrive. Right now, you need to fucking focus.

But the urgency and anxiousness of the text’s wording stays with you through the rest of your shift. Like an unsuspecting water-filled pothole, you’re waiting for the drop, for the squealing crunching bounce, and the eventual check engine light to come on.

Something isn’t right, but you have no idea what it might be.

It is plaguing, insisting feeling that pushes down on your shoulders and rests it’s chin on the top of your head like an acquaintance that is much too close for comfort.

After you left the VIP room, Dimitri didn’t call on you again, and you didn’t dare return to the room until you were sure it was empty. Price didn’t ask for you either. He did not reach out, or even attempt to contact you. One part of you brain tells you to not care while the other says that you should be irate. That if Price cared at all, even a little, he’d slip something your way.

Megan, Olivia, and Addie returned solemn and slightly distant. At first, you thought they might have been upset about Dimitri pushing you on Price, but the idea swiftly left your head when Megan winced as she sat.

You have no idea what happened in that room afterward. And you didn’t notice any physical marks or bruises on any of the three women. But their demeanors were melancholic, their gazes not focused on anything in particular, and they never spoke to you or anyone else who tried to make conversation with them.

Maybe that’s what the meeting is about? Maybe it has something to do with security and ways to protect the staff who are put in vulnerable and precarious situations? There are panic buttons in all of the VIP rooms for a reason. Sure, clients pay good money for privacy, but they are also expected to hold themselves to certain expectations and standards. Not physically harming members of staff is number one on that list. Steve, and his co-owner Tom, are very particular about this rule.

When the hour arrives and you leave, you’re a boiling mess, a creature skulking in the shadows, anxious that a predator is awaiting out in the open dark. The restlessness only intensifies when you arrive at Thirst. The employee parking lot is full. Everyone appears to be here but it’s also possible a few will be missing or running late like you.

Slipping out of your car, you rummage around in your purse for a piece of gum. Just as you find one and pop it into your mouth, you reach for the large metal keypad to punch in your unique employee code but freeze when you notice something wet dripping from it.

Frowning, you peer closer at the dark liquid.

Is Greg eating quarter pounders again? The man has a knack for getting ketchup all over his hands and accidentally spreading it to the oddest places around the building.

But ketchup is bright red and glossy. This is dark and deep like velvet, not nearly as thick as a sauce but not fluid like water. Whatever it is, it’s smeared on the door handle and pools between the buttons.

Your stomach drops to your toes.

You don’t like this. It’s…strange. Odd.

Instead of touching the keypad or handle, you open your purse and retrieve a little package of tissues. Taking several out, you use them as a shield between your skin and the contaminated keypad, punching your code in.

The door lock beeps. The red light turns green.

Using the same tissues, you push down on the handle and then outward, the door swinging in easily. You step into the main employee hallway. The floors, wall, and ceiling are completely concrete. To your immediate right is a door to office where the owners, management, and the CCTV room are. There are two doors for bathrooms, and an opening in the wall that leads to the changing room and employee lockers.

The weirdest thing is that the overhead light isn’t on, and it doesn’t turn on when you enter. The only light comes from the opening in the wall where the dancers do their makeup and fix their dresses.

Again, strange. You’re so used to the sharp, almost sterile overhead light in this tiny space that its absence is ominous.

“What the fuck,” you murmur.

Maybe the light is out and just needs replacing. Maybe the sensor is bad. There are a number of reasons why the light doesn’t come on. Why is it all bothering you so much? It’s probably nothing, and the primitive part of your brain is simply conjuring up the fear of the unknown.

You head down the short hall and step through the opening. Even here, the light is dim. To your right is a wide hall. The massive walk-in closet with employee uniforms, props, and costumes along with changing rooms is that way. Employee lockers line the entire length of the hall. It’s also the same hall that connects to the wine cellar, dry storage, and the beverage cooler. Shoved in that back area is also a tiny kitchen for those guests who order food.

In front of you are rows of vanities, mirrors, shelving with wigs, hats, and all sorts of miscellaneous items. This room is typically bright and welcoming. It always smells of perfume, cleaning solution, and whatever flowers have been delivered that day. But again, the only light comes from four vanities where the bulbs around the mirrors are on.

And it’s so…quiet. You expect to see a shadow lingering in a corner, or the dark outline of a phantom silhouette. Glancing down at the slightly crushed tissues in your hand, you notice the flecks of red. But you’re in the dark, and so you step up to one of the vanities, tipping the tissue into the light.

Crimson. Almost wine-like in color.

Not ketchup. Not food. Not—

Your head snaps up at the sound of a raised voice. Distantly, through the interior door that leads into Thirst’s main room, you hear it again. Whoever is speaking is muffled, and you are unable to make out what it is that is being said.

Dropping the tissues into the trash can, you pad softly across the concrete floor and to the door. You do not open it. Instead, you press your ear to it, listening. There is quiet for some seconds, and then the voice starts up again. You are still in the dark, still incapable of deciphering who the speaker is and what is coming out of their mouth.

But you also don’t want to go out there. Taking great care not to make any noise, you open the door just enough to peer through a small crack.

As your eyes take in the sight before, and relay those signals to your brain, your heartrate increasing, becoming a storm, thudding so loudly your ears vibrate.

Out on the main floor, standing before the seated employees of Thirst are armed men.

There are seven in total. Six of them are in all black tactical gear with balaclavas covering everything but their eyes. The guns they carry are large, easily high capacity. They are unmoving, a small wall standing in a formal line behind their leader.

It is not Dimitri. Nor is it Nikola. It is also not any of the other men you’ve seen with Dimitri whenever he’s been in the VIP room. And it’s not Price.

This is someone else, and like Dimitri, you sense the quiet violence within him. But this is sharper, a slice of venom that can boil you from the inside out. Dimitri is a demon with a forked tongue and sharp claws. This man is so much greater, so much more malevolent.

His presence is striking and you expect smoke to roll out from his nostrils or for him to grow horns. His face is marked with scars that crisscross over each other, and his dark hair is pulled up into a bun on the back of his head. The man easily has to be closing in on seven feet tall.

No. This is not Dimitri.

And it is not Price or his team.

With shaking fingers, you withdraw your phone from your pocket, skimming through your contacts. You pass Price’s name twice before you can control your fingers enough to tap on his name. The message you send to him is hasty, and likely gibberish, the phone screen itself more of a blur because—water drops onto the glass.

You bring one shaking hand up to your face and find your cheeks wet.

You choke back a sob as the text becomes a lone blurb on your screen.

Price said to contact him if anything happens. But will he answer? It’s been almost two weeks since that night when you and Price got the tension out of your systems. Two weeks. No contact. So why is it that you text him and not the police?

The answer is quite clear. What will they do anyway? They stay away from places like this. They look down on it. If anything, they’d likely wait outside the entire time and never actually come inside to rescue anyone.

You’re doing the right thing by contacting Price. You are.

Returning your phone to your pocket, your gaze falls on the men at the center of the room. The leader isn’t in nearly as much tactical gear as his friends. He wears a suit with a bulletproof vest over it, clearly not entirely concerned with his safety.

“I’ve been waiting long enough.” His Russian accent is thick like syrup. Dimitri’s is subdued, and now you question whether or not he was simply hiding it.

At the sound of his voice, several people flinch like they’ve received a physical blow.

“She’s on her way. I promise. You read the text, Damien.” That’s one of the owners, but you can’t see him. It sounds like Steve but you can’t be sure. Opening the door a bit more, you shift your head and located him near the front of the group.

She. She is on her way.

“I have three. I need all four.”

Damien grabs the owner by the back of the throat and lifts him into the air without breaking a sweat. There is a pause as Damien’s lip curls in disgust.

“Where is she!” roars Damien, tossing the man to the ground.

He is talking about you. You.

No one speaks. No one utters a word. Damien strides back and forth before the front row, his gaze deliberately landing on every person.

“My guns are gone. My men are dead. Another missing.” He comes to a stop, chest heaving with anger. “Money taken. No leads except this place.” His arms outstretch slightly and he glances around the large room.

Dimitri. He’s talking about Dimitri. All this time, Price kept mentioning that he was after a larger target, someone much higher on the scale. Is he talking about Damien? Or is there someone even higher than him that Price is after?

You distinctly remember Price and Dimitri talking about an exchange. That must be the missing guns and money. Damien’s men are dead and if Dimitri isn’t among them, then it has to be everyone else Dimitri has ever brought with him, possibly even more than that.

Price also mentioned that Dimitri and the people Price is after, are not simple petty criminals. Price is military which means these men and their actions have international consequences.

Damien’s arms fall to his sides. “And now you can’t tell me where the fourth whore is.” He points off to the side. “I have three.” You tip your head noticing Megan, Olivia, and Addie.

“She’s works elsewhere during the day. She’ll be here.”

Damien glances downward. His face is blank. Cold. One of the armed men behind Damien steps forward.

“No. No! Damien!”

“You’re annoying me, Steve,” says Damien, voice monotone.

The armed man drags Steve by his hair toward the dancefloor. Steve kicks out, legs flailing and useless. He reaches up to claw at the armed man’s hands, but his fingers cannot penetrate the gloves.

“If I am missing one,” says Damien calmly. Steve is dropped. He glances up. But the gun is already pointed at his face. And there is no pause between the rising of the arm and the pulling of the trigger. “Then the rest of you are at risk,” finishes Damien, shrugging his shoulders apathetically.

Several Thirst employees scream, and Damien immediately rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“Don’t do that,” he murmurs, shaking his head. Then, louder, “Don’t FUCKING SCREAM!” He strides forward and grabs someone by their hair, twisting sharply. He bends at the waist, getting down to their level. “I will rip out your vocal cords and fuck the hole I leave behind. Understand?”

Whoever he’s speaking to must respond because Damien lets go, standing tall again, pulling on his bullet-proof vest to adjust it. He breathes deep, and then exhales loudly as if this is his meditation.

Panic clogs your throat. Fuck it. You’re calling the police. Usually, you wouldn’t even fuck with them, but relying only on Price isn’t going to help you or anyone in that room. It certainly didn’t help Steve.

Your hands are shaking harder now, so much in fact that you can barely hold onto your phone. It keeps jumping around in your palms. The sweat isn’t helping either, and getting the lock screen to recognize your face and jump to the home screen is agony.

“Maybe we don’t need her,” shrugs Damien, glancing over at Megan, Olivia, and Addie. “We have the other three.”

Two of the stoic, tactical-clad men move, head in the women’s direction. You hear their pleas and soft cried of protest. Megan, Olivia, and Addie are dragged up front to where Damien stands. He towers over them.

You open the keypad, punching in the emergency number. But every time you hit the round, green circle with the phone in the middle, nothing happens.

“Please,” you whimper, smashing your finger down on it. “Please.”

Damien brushes one of Megan’s blonde locks behind her ear. “I need to know who you talked to. That’s all.”

Of the three, only Olivia stares the man down, fury in her face even as tears stain her cheeks. “None of us said anything to anyone,” she says through clenched teeth.

Using his gloved thumb, Damien gentle wipes away the tears on Megan’s face. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, but you don’t know if he’s giving her a compliment or simply speaking out loud.

Your finger comes down on the little green button again and this time it connects. Sighing with relief, you bring the shaking phone up to your ear only to be met with a busy signal.

“Fuck.”

Olivia’s gaze darts from Megan to Damien and back again. “Our job isn’t to care and it isn’t to listen.”

Damien drops his hand from Megan’s face. “To care? No. To listen?” He shakes a pointed finger in Olivia’s direction. “You always listen.” He taps the side of his head. “You have ears. Working, clearly, because Dimitri isn’t here. Neither are my guns.”

He moves like a viper, his hand grabbing the bottom of Olivia’s face to pull her in. “Which means someone talked.”

She tries to shake her head but his grip is iron-clad. “We didn’t. Not to anyone.”

“Are you speaking for yourself? Or for the three of you?” When Olivia doesn’t reply, his fingers squeeze and she gasps audibly. “Take accountability.”

“We didn’t say anything.”

“Then you’re not of any use to me.” The words are cold and dead. Using his grip on the bottom half of her face, Damien throws Olivia to the side. “Shoot her.”

“Oliva!” screeches Megan, trying to go to her.

The silence after the shot is deafening, and the resounding screams that come afterward are a wave, attempting to drown.

You begin to back away, the door softly closing. With phone still in hand, your try the emergency number again. Busy. Fucking busy.

Wasn’t there just something in the news about there not being enough phone operators for emergency calls? That the city was facing a massive hiring problem?

Before the door clicks, another shot rings out. This one makes you jump. Every muscle in your stomach and back tenses violently.

The flinch hurts, and you bend forward in pain.

A third shot cracks in the air. Something heavy slams into the door, shaking the frame.

You stumble backward, the phone starting to slip from your grip.

Another pop followed by silence followed by—tat tat. A raging ringing of rattling sound that goes on and on.

Endless. Endless. Endless.

You scream, dropping to the floor as pieces of the door blow inward, painting the air with pulverized wood.

Covering your face with your hands, you curl in on yourself, waiting for the silence. It comes, and you peek out from between your fingers at the door.

Dark red seeps in from underneath, creating little bloody rivers across the concrete, stretching and reaching like gnarled fingers or willowy tree branches.

You’re on your knees. Shaking. Searching. Head spinning.

Door. You need the door. The door to the outside. You need—

Another barrage starts up, and the door groans, bending inward from whatever weight is pushing on it from the other side.

Everything is going blurry. The tears that spill from your eyes blind you, distorting your vision as you try to lift yourself off the floor.

Where is your phone? Where is your fucking phone?

You drag yourself in a direction, seeking, seeking, finding only cold concrete. Desperation eases in, seizes your lungs, inflating and deflating the organ until you’re audibly gasping for air.

Finding purchase near one of the vanities, you pull yourself up to your feet, leaning all your weight on it. Fuck the phone. Leave. Leave. Run to your fucking car or across the street. Go anywhere.

Get help.

The rapidly repeating rattling ceases, and in its place is dead, stagnant silence.

Your feet are lead but they move, determined to ferry you to safety, to deliver you to the back door and out in open air. As you push off from the vanity, the worst possible thing happens. The backdoor opens. And with it comes voices. Not friendly ones.

The hall to your left is the only place for you to go.

Survival kicks in, adrenaline surging through your limbs as you hurl yourself down the hall. Loud footsteps close in, and you throw yourself into the first available hiding spot. It’s the massive storage room where all the uniforms, outfits, and changing stalls are. The stalls are too open, too vulnerable.

But there is plenty of storage in here for all the various clothes and odd knickknacks. Ducking behind a rack of clothes, you shimmy along the wall until you come to the standing shelves. There is just enough room for you to lay on your side between it and the wall.

Breathing is all you're capable of, all that you're able to focus on. Time is of no significance. Minutes or seconds pass, and perhaps they keep on going stretching into hours. You don’t count. You don’t blink. You simply exist as you attempt to calm your racing heart.

Distantly, you hear a loud groan followed by a massive thud. Maybe that’s the interior door finally falling off its hinges. And these two sounds are what snap you back to reality. You shift, and sharp pain shoots down your shoulder.

You blink, surprised, and then notice the red smeared across the wall where you touched it. There are more droplets on the ground out in the room, and a tiny trail that lead out into the hall.

There is silence again. Then a few quick shouts. A brief pop accompanied by another soon after. Quiet once again. The air conditioning kicks in, bringing with it a low hum. Your breathing seems overly loud, but you also know you’re tightly crammed into a small space.

Black boots appear, pausing right inside the doorway. You didn’t even hear their approach. Between their feet are bloody droplets. Your blood.

The boots shift, take two steps forward in the direction of your hiding spot. Cold creeps in. Becomes dark. The boots scrunch slightly as whoever it is bends down next to where your blood trail abruptly ends before disappearing behind the clothes racks.

A gloved hand hovers just above those final droplets but do not make contact. Whoever it is promptly stands, facing the racks of clothes that hide your smeared blood on the wall. They start moving the clothes, ripping them from hooks to fall to the floor.

Another pair of boots appears in the doorway. A brief few seconds pass before they head in the direction of the other pair. There is a muffled sound, and what might be a struggle. Your answer comes quick.

One of Damien’s men collapses onto his back, vacant eyes staring up at nothing, the handle of knife sticking out from his throat.

There is a collective silence before hands are on you, dragging you from your hiding spot. You screech like a terrified animal. Kicking out with feet, clawing whoever this is with nails, teeth snaping in preparation to sink into flesh.

“It's me.” The back of your hand connects with something hard. “Stop. It's me. It's me.”

You cease your thrashing, staring into eyes that you know so well.

“John,” you breathe.

Price has both hands on your upper arms. He’s in full tactical gear. While he appears calm of the surface, you can see the slight panic in his eyes as his gaze darts across your face and over your body.

“I've got you,” he murmurs, one hand releasing your arm to grasp the side of your face, cradling your cheek. “You're fine.”

Ignoring the pain in your shoulder that screams its frustration, you wrap your arms around Price’s neck as the tears come fast and heavy and hard.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “When he bagged Dimitri, I should have known—I’m sorry.”

You cling harder, fingers digging into the collar of his uniform. Price gentle squeezes your waist, his face slightly turned into your neck.

With a softness that soothes, Price slowly draws you away from him, but only enough so that he can look at your face. A gloved thumb runs along your cheekbone, drying some of the tears.

“You came,” you whisper.

“For you. I came for you.” Price smiles tenderly, but it falters as he tips is head like he’s listening to something. The middle of his brow creases as he reaches up to press what must be a communication device. “Dressing room,” he says.

He releases the button and grasps the side of your face, gaze sad and intense. Price’s frown deepens. “You’re injured.”

Before you can answer, Ghost appears in the doorway, saying nothing. Price twists to glance at the behemoth of a man.

“Petrova ran,” states Ghost blandly.

“Fuck,” mutters Price. “We have eyes on him?”

“No.”

“Likely going to ground to lick his wounds before facing Makarov.”

“He’ll want his money,” replies Ghost.

“And his weapons,” adds Price. He turns back to you and smiles sadly. “Is it ready, Simon?” he asks over his shoulder.

Frowning, you pull back, glancing first at Price and then at Ghost who—like his namesake—has moved closer to Price’s side without making a sound.

“I'll get her to Laswell,” answers Ghost.

“I'm sorry," Price says again, just as Ghost holsters his gun and Price steps back, leaving you empty and hollow. Ghost, with a single movement, sweeps you off your feet and into his arms.

Price follows the two of you out and into the main room you were in earlier. There are more tactical gear-clad people here, loitering around. Ghost turns into that small hallway where the backdoor stands propped open. Over his shoulder, you glimpse the downed interior door, the smears of red, and the pile of unmoving limbs.

"I'm sorry," Price repeats. "You know too much."

It’s a goodbye. A final farewell. Your lips form a soft o as you try to form a coherent response.

"Keep her safe, Simon. I'm counting on you."

Three Years Later

A rush of autumn air slips underneath your coat. The wind brings a shiver to your skin, and you wrap your coat tightly around your middle. The taxi behind you pulls back into traffic, and you are left alone on the curb.

So much has changed, and yet you feel no different.

Ghost brought you to a woman named Laswell. She was kind but direct, and explained that you’d need to be relocated elsewhere. Mostly for your personal safety, but also so that the government could keep an eye on you. You weren’t in trouble, that’s what Laswell said, but it still felt like it.

The only silver-lining in them uprooting your life is the care taken to make sure you could start over. Your mother’s unpaid medical bills disappeared. All the debt melted away. The master’s degree you pursued was discreetly changed so that you retained your education but the last name was different. They even went so far as to help you gain employment.

Laswell was thorough. And you appreciated the effort, knowing that Price likely had a hand in making sure you were taken care of.

But it’s been three years. Three long years and so much has changed.

You’re not working for the same place. You’re not in the same apartment. You’re not even in the same city anymore. Life went on, and you moved with it. Laswell has never reached out. Price certainly hasn’t.

Everything that happened, everything that occurred, is in the past. Haunting you still but so far removed at this point you rarely glance back at it. A small piece still lingers on a specific person, but that too is becoming a solitary, dull ache.

You push through the door in front of you, retreating from the cold. Inside, the restaurant is warm and inviting. All hardwood and gold trim. Lingering near the hostess stand, chatting on the phone, is your boyfriend, Alex.

He glances up and smiles, his perfect white teeth on display. “Have to go. Yes. Tomorrow at one.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and ends the call.

“Didn’t want to wait for me at the table?” you tease, sliding up next to him.

He bends forward for a chaste kiss. “Wanted to walk with you.”

Alex extends his hand, indicating ladies first. Smiling at him, you follow the hostess to the table. Alex is quick to pull out your chair and help you slide into place. He takes the chair across the table.

This restaurant is your usual spot. Typically, you and Alex come for dinner, but he’s working late, and he made himself available at lunch to see you.

“Would you like menus today, Mr. Obolensky?”

An older gentleman with a receding hairline approaches the table. Ivan has waited on you and Alex for every meal. The man has to sleep somewhere in the back.

“Only for food.”

Ivan nods. “Would you like your usual wine for lunch?”

Alex inclines his head and Ivan promptly disappears.

Your relationship with Alex started rocky. When he first introduced himself, giving you is full name, your nervous system fell into a trauma response.

Alexandr Obolensky, or as his close friends call him, Alexi.

Maybe that notorious afternoon was still too ingrained in your system, because you closed up like a clam, awkward and nearly unresponsive. But over time, as he kept popping up in your life, you began to warm to him, and quickly realized that his interest was more than friendly.

Now, you’re staring at his smiling face across the table, wondering how you got so lucky.

He rests his arm on the table, presenting his hand, palm upward. You take it, fingers intertwining. His thumb rubs slow strokes over your knuckles.

Alex’s phone buzzes on the table but he ignores it. It buzzes again. Still, Alex ignores it.

“Popular.”

He shrugs. “They can wait.”

It starts up again, and Alex frowns down at it.

“Answer it,” you sigh. He’s an incredibly busy individual working at his father’s PR firm. There have been numerous late nights and countless overseas traveling.

Alex shakes his head. “I’m at lunch. With you. That is more important.”

When his phone starts buzzing again, you laugh and Alex groans.

“Just answer it,” you laugh. “Must be important.”

“I want it noted that you are insisting,” he jokes, snatching the phone off the table. He slides his thumb across the screen and brings it up to his ear, answering with an irritated, “What?”

The annoyance on his face starts to slip, replaced with concern. “When?” A pause. “Fuck,” mutters Alex, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. I’ll handle it.” He ends the call and glances up from the screen.

“Go,” you murmur, nodding toward the restaurant’s front door. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” he replies. “I promised you lunch.”

You shrug. “It’s just lunch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you laugh. “Go.”

Alex stands just Ivan reappears with the wine. “Apologies, Ivan. I have to leave.”

“Certainly Mr. Obolensky.”

He turns to you. “Order whatever you want.” He looks back at Ivan. “Put it all on my account.”

“Of course, Mr. Obolensky.”

“Madam.” Ivan presents the food menu, and then proceeds to open the bottle of wine. He fills your glass, and places the bottle next it. “Would you like a tour of the menu?”

“No. Thank you, Ivan. I just need a few minutes.”

He nods and disappears.

You and Alex have eaten here on so many occasions that you already know most of the dishes, but you like to look anyway, pretending that you’ll choose something different this time.

A shadow of a body moves into view above the menu. You don’t glance up, knowing that it’s likely Alex returning, probably forgetting something like his coat.

You glance up from the menu. “Forget some—”

Your words leave you like air escaping from a popped balloon.

It’s not Alex sitting across from you at the table.

“Hello, love. Been a while.”

It’s John.

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staygoldwriting · 2 years

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Cousin Buckley: Part 2

Summary: You’re Robin’s cousin, and you’ve stolen the hearts of Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson <3