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golden-barnes · 2 years

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Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad. {wc: 2.2k}

Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure but not that much, Karen parent being annoying, bucky is a fool but amaya is gonna fixed it.

a/n: I've been sitting on this for months but I had to step back from this account bc of everything. thankfully I finished this before my electricity went puff but not my best job. pls have mercy bc I'm rusty.

Part 2

Bucky knew there weren’t many male first-grade teachers. But honestly, it was his dream job. He was teaching the country's future and helping them become better people.

Also, 6-year-olds love him, especially with his fantasy land classroom he forced Steve to help decorate. Bucky loved being a teacher, and he loved his kids. Relatively easy to get up every day at 6 am when you love your job.

That being said, he knows he shouldn’t have a favorite student. So it’s basically written in the teacher’s rule book.

But Amaya was undoubtedly his favorite of his unruly kids. She was very spirited. Amaya loved helping out her classmates and talking to them. She was just the best student he had ever had.

She is amusing. Every day she comes to him with a story about her mom. Unfortunately, Bucky hadn't met her yet because she was busy with work. Still, he interacted with Amaya’s second contact, Natasha.

At this point, Bucky feels like he knows her. How she likes tulips. Her favorite color is pink, which is Amaya’s favorite, but that’s a funny coincidence. He knows that Amaya and her mom go to the museum every week on the day they have special events for kids. Amaya’s favorite exhibit is the one about mythical creatures.

“Momma likes the one with the paintings. She likes the one with the man who gives the girl a flower.” Amaya tells Bucky. Amaya always goes to Bucky’s desk after finishing her classwork because if she doesn’t, she distracts her classmates. Or give her classmates the answers, so this is the only way to keep her entertained. She always takes this time to draw something for Bucky to hang on his wall of drawings.

“Oh, Mister Bucky! Momma is going to come to pick me up today.” Bucky cursed mentally, completely forgetting today was parent-teacher conference.

Talking to 6-year-olds was a lot easier than talking to adults. Especially when you are telling parents that their kids are having problems. The worst part of the job, honestly. If Bucky could just teach his kids, send letters to the parents, and never interact with them, he would.

“Going to meet the elusive Miss (Y/N)?” Steve, his best friend, asked. Because of budget cuts, Steve was currently the art teacher for the entire school. Did he like it? Probably not having the kindergarteners put glitter in his hair, but he enjoyed a challenge.

“Apparently,” Bucky mumbled, opening his lunch. Just a ham and cheese sandwich because he was running late.

“She finally showing up to a conference?” Sam asked, heating up his lunch. Sam was the history teacher for the 4th and 5th graders. He was also a pain in Bucky’s ass, but he decided not to think about it and focused on his incoming stomach ache.

Fuck, now Bucky had to clean his classroom and prepare everything. What if one of those Karen parents shows up and starts complaining about stupid things? About how his classroom is Lord of the Rings theme and how that's bad for kids? Maybe about how he’s a male teacher? He is already spiraling.

“Oh, you are talking about Amaya’s mom? I met her when I was Amaya’s kindergarten teacher. She’s really nice and - “ Wanda started talking but was interrupted by her twin brother Pietro, the gym teacher.

“She is also smoking hot. Like ultimate Milf in this whole school. ” He comments, which makes Bucky feel even worse because how will he talk with a pretty girl? He hasn’t done that since college.

Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother and sat down next to Steve to eat her lunch.

“You’ll be great though, Barnes. She’s really nice, and you are a great teacher, so you won’t have any problems with her.” Wanda reassures her coworker. Bucky takes a deep breath and takes another bite off his sandwich.

“And I still believe my son should be seated in the front.” Mrs. Robinson complained, which she had been doing for the past hour and a half. Going past the hour dialogue they are supposed to be having. But since Amaya’s mom is running late.

“Mrs. Robinson, I understand, but some kids in the classroom require specific accommodations. Because of that, the entire front row is taken. So I can’t sit Tommy in the front. “ Bucky explained for the 10th time. Mrs. Robinson just rolled her eyes and huffed.

Before she could complain again, someone knocked on the door. A woman in formal and professional clothing stepped into the classroom. Amaya popped into the classroom with the brightest smile.

“Mister Bucky! I brought Momma!” She screamed excitedly. Amaya’s mom tried to quiet her, but from Bucky’s experience, Amaya is impossible to corral.

“Well, Mrs. Robinson, my 4 o'clock is here.” Bucky said nervously, trying to politely kick out Mrs. Robinson and her big-ass attitude.

“We could discuss this further in another parent-teacher conference.” It took everything for Bucky not to roll his eyes. Fucking self-observed parents think their children are the only ones that matter, Bucky thinks to himself.

“Sorry for my tardiness; I got held up at work.” Amaya’s mom apologizes. Woah, she really is pretty, Bucky thinks.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” Bucky says, trying to catch his breath.

“Please call me (Y/N).” She smiled sweetly at Bucky. Bucky gulped.

“Let me get to the point; Amaya is a fantastic student. One of the best. She is above her group’s reading level. She writes pretty clearly for her age. No complaints from me; whatever you are doing at home is workin’.” Bucky explained, (Y/N) smiling at her daughter, who was too entertained with Bucky’s snowball on his desk.

“Thank you, but I can’t take that much credit. Maya absolutely adores you.” Bucky blushes at her praise.

“She’s a good kid; it’s easy to teach kids like her.” Bucky praised Amaya, who was surprisingly quiet. Which would scare Bucky because if there’s one thing he learned from teaching first graders is that quiet means trouble. But he dismissed it because she wouldn’t do anything wild with her mom right next to her.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, for everything. With getting a new job and having to provide for my family, you’ve literally given me so much peace.” (Y/N) leaned in closer.

“If I am being honest, I was worried about ‘Maya’s performance at school. “ She whispered, but Bucky gave her a reassuring smile.

“Amaya, could you please give these papers to Mr. Rogers?” Amaya nodded and grabbed the papers Bucky had handed her. Then, Bucky sent a text to Steve telling him to keep Amaya out of his classroom to talk to her mom.

“I haven’t noticed a difference in her behavior if that makes you feel any better,” Bucky reassured her. She sighed.

“I am worried about her. Ever since she was born, her dad has been in and out of her life. Now he has disappeared for good. Amaya has been acting like it doesn’t bother her, but no first grader should hide their feelings.” She confesses. Bucky wants to do two things. 1) kick Amaya’s father for being a piece of shit and abandoning such a precious child and her mom. And 2) himself for getting excited by hearing that (Y/N) is single. He can already hear his mother chastising him.

“I’m so sorry to hear that (Y/N).” Bucky said earnestly. She just shook her head.

“It’s okay. Any advice for me?” She said in a joking tone, trying to alleviate the tension. Bucky lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Just keep being there. In my experience, being present and making the child feel like they have a support system is the best way to help them during this difficult time.” Bucky smiled at her.

“Thank you. See you on Monday?” (Y/N) said, getting up from her chair.

“Yes. Definitely.” Bucky felt his heart beating at a faster pace.

This school year was definitely going to be interesting. So Bucky thinks, watching Y/N walking out of his classroom.

What Bucky doesn’t know is that Amaya plans to make life more enjoyable. She was supposed to be sleeping, but she heard Auntie Tasha’s voice and decided to say hi.

“Nat, you could’ve warned me, you know!” (Y/N) explained. Natasha laughed, handing her best friend a glass of wine.

“He is hot, isn't he?” Natasha grins. Amaya looked at her mom, who had a goofy smile. She has never seen her mom with a smile like that.

“Ridiculously hot. And his eyes? Nat, his eyes are just so gray. I almost spilled my entire life story right there and then.” (Y/N) groans. Natasha just laughs.

“It should be illegal to have a first-grade teacher look that hot.” (Y/N) added, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Just wait till you see him in casual Fridays. That man looks excellent in a Henley. “ Natasha joked, but that seemed to disturb (Y/N) even more. “Look out ‘Maya you might have a new daddy.”

What auntie Tasha said made Amaya think. Mister Bucky was her favorite teacher, and she wished her momma would be happy. Them together would mean that she would have Mister Bucky around forever, and Momma would be happy and have a goofy smile like that forever.

That’s when Operation get Mr. Bucky and Momma together was born.

Every day after finishing her classwork, Amaya would go to Bucky’s desk and talk to him. Most of the things she said were little seeds to push him to get close to her mom.

Today was different; Amaya’s patience was thinning. A week passed, and every day when her mom would pick her up, she saw the googly eyes her mom and Mister Bucky were giving each other. It’s time for the big guns, Amaya thought.

“Mister Bucky, do you have a dad?” Buck was shocked at Amaya’s question.

“Yes, I do.” Amaya sighed dramatically after hearing Bucky’s answer.

“I don’t… I wish I knew what that was like.” Bucky’s heart broke hearing that. Amaya had her head down, but Bucky couldn’t see her smirk.

“You will one day. I promise.” Bucky knew he shouldn’t say that but wanted to uplift her and give her hope.

“Hey, Mister Bucky, maybe you could be my dad!” Amaya said, doing a complete 180 in her demeanor. Bucky almost spits out his coffee, and he starts to cough. But unfortunately, he fell right into Amaya’s trap.

“I don’t know about that, Amaya,” Amaya smirks.

“But Mister Bucky, momma already likes you. You would be a great dad.” Was it embarrassing for Bucky that his 6-year-old student was trying to hook him up with her mom? Maybe but hearing that said mom liked him did give him a bit of an ego.

“Really?” Amaya nodded enthusiastically.

“She said that she really likes your eyes.” Amaya admitted. Bucky knew he shouldn’t be asking these questions. If Sam knew, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Is there anything else she said?” Bucky asked, acting casually as if a 6-year-old was gonna read his body language. However, Amaya is too smart for her own good.

“I heard her telling Auntie Jen that she liked it when you wear red shirts.” Bucky made a note to buy more red shirts after school.

“Is your mom going to pick you up today?” Bucky asked; Amaya nodded.

“She said we were going to the mall today,” Amaya explained. She could feel her plan working, but who knows? Grown-ups were weird.

Bucky’s heart needs to catch a break. That being said, seeing (Y/N) every afternoon, his poor heart won't be getting any. Especially when she came in with her lawyer suits. It was like a punch in the gut.

But what really hit him like a punch in the gut was what Amaya said when her mom came to pick her up.

She grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards her mom, who was waiting outside the classroom.

“Momma, Bucky said he would be my daddy.” Amaya said with the biggest grin. Bucky choked on his own saliva and started coughing. While (Y/N) just started laughing.

“Did he now?” (Y/N) asked her daughter, that was excited that her plan “worked.”

“I- uhm. I didn’t say that she took it out of context. But, I mean- I” Bucky’s ramble was interrupted by (Y/N).

“It’s okay, Mr. Barnes. I know how Amaya can be. Don’t worry.” Bucky sighed out of relief.

“Mommaaaaa…” Amaya whined; her mom just rolled her eyes.

“Yes, ‘Maya?” (Y/N) asked in a snarky tone. Amaya signaled to her to lean down. Amaya whispered something to her. (Y/N) giggled with her daughter.

“Mr. Barnes, would you like to go out for coffee someday?” (Y/N) asked, Amaya still giggling behind her mom.

“I would love to.” Bucky said, which caused Amaya to do a little victory dance in the back. As if nobody could see her. (Y/N) turned around and laughed at her daughter’s antics. She pulled something out of her jacket, a piece of paper.

“I have to go, Mr. Barnes. Sorry for my little troublemaker.”She said, handing him the piece of paper with her personal phone number. Bucky was confused.

“What is this for?” Bucky asked, utterly confused about what this meant.

“For whenever you would like to get that cup of coffee.” She told him, grabbing Amaya’s hand and walking towards his card.

Bucky felt his cheeks heat up. He might admit that Amaya was his favorite student, even if she played matchmaker.

He looked down at the card. Oh, he is gonna call.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #imagine bucky #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

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kingcrow01 · 5 months

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DC x Marvel Fic Recs

@jas-per11 @letthedeadghostrest

Hello! I saw your post, and I've been meaning to rec some DC x Marvel fics anyways, so I'll do that here. I don't know what you've read, so I'll start with

Peter Parker / DC Series:

The Dark Matter Multiverse Series by @mysterycyclone

Dark Matter is the blueprint for most Peter Parker / DC fics, and it's also fucking fantastic. If you're reading a crossover and don't understand why, without explanation, Peter is talking to ghosts? Why he by default ends up living in a firehouse? Read Dark Matter.

Spider and Bat Friends Series by @emmacortana

So far, 12 well written and hilarious works from my all-time favorite author, Miss emmacortana. This, coming from someone with over 1,500 bookmarks. She's that good.

Bitsy and The Bats Series Series by @wibbwoby

Haven't read this one in a while, so I don't have much to say, but Rated T for Traumatized is an absolute classic.

Pizzaverse Series by Irisen

A heavier read, wherein Peter tries to keep his job, make rent, and has a lot of unfortunate run-ins with Gotham's rogues.

Peter & The BatBoys (Doctor AU) Series by @thepoppypress

Peter is the Wayne family's doctor. He has a... chaotic time. I've only read Part 1, but I am still including this here because it's a series.

Peter Parker needs a hug (From the BatFamily) Series by @true-blue-fool

Shorter fics about Peter bonding with the Batfamily. Part 3 is especially cute.

Spider and Bats Series by @superklutzkent

Peter Parker whump, featuring the Batfam. All of the whump.

Let's take a break and look at some DC x Marvel fics that DON'T feature Peter:

Steve Rogers: Man out of Time and Place Series by RavenclawAngel

After Civil War, Steve gets exiled to DCs earth and builds a new team.

from the nucleus flight Series by @blackkatmagic

Khonshu whisks (Comic) Moon Knight away to DC. Very well written and passionate. If it's not your thing, don't let the Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector tag dissuade you from reading; since it's unfinished, the ship hasn't happened yet, and it's too good of a fic to miss out on.

The Devil's in Gotham (Remastered) by @prince-link13

Matt Murdock moves to Gotham and befriends Jason Todd, his neighbor. Bruce Wayne/Matt Murdock

Marvel/DC Crossovers Series by @bamboozled-and-alone

What it says on the tin. My favorite, part 2, is Matt Murdock taking care of Damian Wayne.

Echolocation Series by Firecat23

Matt Murdock and the bats; though, part 6 does have Team Red, meaning Peter.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming:

Peter Parker slash fics:

Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker

Along Came a Spider Series by @rags-n-bones

Quiet Respite by @faeriekit

I'm not too far in this one yet, but it's Faeriekit, so it's bound to be good.

Peter Parker/Tim Drake, affectionately called redspider

a shining spider web by Selador

Needling by LaughingFreak

How dimension travel can lead to love. Series by Psychic_Queen05

My current Favorite Ongoing Peter Parker / DC Crossovers:

The Ones Burnt by This_is_lovin

After the events of No Way Home, Dr. Strange's magic sends Peter to Gotham. He wakes up in another boy's body, and has to deal with the consequences. Part one just ended with a bang, you all should be there for part two, it's gonna be awesome.

Arachnomaly by @songue85

The (Comic) Amazing Spider-Man, being neighborly in Gotham. Plus some sick art from the author.

time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN

Two difficult years after No Way Home, Peter ends up in Gotham, but with a whole lot of introspection. One chapter left; you better be there.

All of the rest, that didn't fit in the prior categories:

Unforeseen Consequences by @mysterycyclone

Gotta Get to Rock Bottom! by @emmacortana

Read the initial notes first.

Set Naked on Your Kingdom by sassydandelion

Peter's Gotham Debut by BlankGeode, Leeavy

This Was Home by @emmacortana

The Peter Parker Theory by nicfics

and even though we are strange and exquisitely scarred by Wingfeather6913

What happens in New York by @violent138

A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba

Ignorance is Death by No_idea_what_Im_doing_lmaooo

One Dead Spider by Miellonek

If you do check out any of these fics, always leave a comment. Authors love those, it’s like catnip to them.

#dc #marvel #dc x marvel #fic rec #spiderman #spider man #peter parker #ao3

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withacapitalp · 2 months

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How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 20

Part Nineteen Part One Link to ao3

A huge thank you to so many people but it's especially @thefreakandthehair for betaing, being the best, and generally encouraging all of my nuttiness. Also a big shout out to Bowie ( don't remember your Tumblr my lovely!!) for doublechecking some sensititvity reading for me. Y'all rock!!!

Jeff had the decency to wait until Frank was safely in his house before he called Eddie out on his shit.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Jeff sighed the second the door closed behind Frank, leaving only the snow, Eddie’s headlights, and two best friends about to have an incredibly awkward conversation.

“Driving you dicks home?” Eddie tried, hoping that he could fool Jeff into not having the uncomfortable conversation that was already beginning. He kicked the van into reverse, throwing a hand casually over Jeff’s seat as he turned and began to maneuver his way back to the road.

“Eddie.”

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t anything really. Just his name, nothing more, nothing less, but it was Jeff’s tone.

That voice, the voice he always used when he was trying to cut through Gareth and Eddie’s bullshit. Corroded Coffin had lasted all these years because of balance. Frank was their rock, steady and sure; Eddie and Gareth were the stream, bouncing and playing and whirling around in a daze; but Jeff was the earth around them. Jeff was everything, and Eddie might be their leader, but Jeff was the one that held everything together.

And he was the only one who could get Eddie to drop the act with just one word.

“Honestly, dude? I have no fucking idea what I’m doing,” Eddie sighed, slightly curling in on himself as he focused on the road. The snow was only mildly awful at the moment, but winter in Indiana could turn on a dime and Eddie wasn’t looking to run his van off the road just because Jeff was grilling him about his stupid little completely non-existent crush.

“Well, what do you want from him?” Jeff asked, dragging the first word slowly out as he thought about what he wanted to say. Sometimes the other members of Hellfire would do things like that— talk slow or choose words carefully, just to try and avoid Eddie’s sparky temper.

Unfortunately for him, Eddie was already worked up about this particular topic.

“Great question!” Eddie snapped, going to throw his hands up before choosing to be wise and hold the wheel steady. A small squall was beginning to form around them, and his visibility was starting to cut to next to none.

“Okay, okay,” Jeff said, placating to Eddie’s need to be a bit of an asshat, “So what happened between you and Steve that’s got Gareth so pressed?”

If it was any other person in the car with him, Eddie might have been able to fake it. Even Frank might have fallen for a lie about Gareth’s hatred of jocks and conformity and how Steve was just a representation of that.

But it was Jeff. Jeff, who was their Earth, who knew that Gareth’s grudge wouldn’t have lasted this long if it wasn’t motivated by protectiveness. That the only reason Gareth wouldn’t have started to warm up even a little bit was his need to make sure his people were safe.

Few things in life were assured, but death, taxes, and Gareth Winston’s need to protect his own were all a given.

“Steve probably doesn’t even remember, so it doesn’t matter,” Eddie muttered, evading the question just as he narrowly evaded a pothole that seemed to appear out of thin air on the road in front of them. The storm was picking back up again, and this was not the conversation to be having right at this moment.

“Well, do you want him to fuck you?” Jeff asked bluntly, cutting through the fat and straight to the juicy meat of the problem.

“Jeff!” Eddie blurted out, a nervous burst of laughter escaping along with his name. He took the risk of looking away from the road for a few seconds to give the other boy a wild-eyed look, but Jeff seemed unphased, cool as a cucumber as a lion’s smile began to curl on his face.

“Do you want to fuck him?”

Unbidden, a dozen images flashed through Eddie’s head. Steve in his bed. Steve shirtless. Steve underneath him with his hair splayed out on the pillows, wrists trapped in gleaming silver cuffs as he begged so pretty for—

No.

No no no no no no NO.

“Dude!” Eddie groaned, turning away from the road again to shout at Jeff.

And then it happened.

Jeff’s shit-eating grin disappeared, his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates as he shouted a wordless warning cry and Eddie had less than a second to turn back to the road, slamming his foot on the brake and throwing his arm out to protect Jeff from the inevitable crash.

There was something on the road in front of them. The snow made it impossible to see beyond the shape, but, whatever it was, it was massive. Huge, and hulking, with a dark shadow that sent a chill down Eddie’s spine, and he was sure his van wouldn’t survive the impact.

But no impact came.

His tires skidded, the van turned half a quarter, but no collision, no smashing glass, no pain. Just twin panting from him and Jeff, and an empty road all around them.

“What was that?” Jeff whispered when he was able to form words again.

“A deer, I guess,” Eddie murmured back, not really feeling all that sure of his answer. He had never seen a deer like that, but he also hadn’t really seen anything. His wild imagination wanted to run with it, but there was no point. Whatever it was, it was gone, and that’s what mattered.

He leaned back against his seat, his heart still racing as he patted Jeff’s chest twice, slightly assured when he could feel Jeff’s heart pounding through his shirt as well.

“Sorry.”

“Shouldn’t’ve distracted you,” Jeff mumbled, lacing his fingers together to hide how badly they were shaking.

“Hey, not your fault,” Eddie said, knowing how Jeff’s anxiety tended to latch to any blame it could when it got tripped like this. Eddie tested the van, carefully pulling back onto the right side of the road. They stayed quiet as Eddie turned them towards Jeff’s house, driving at a turtle’s pace with both hands on the wheel.

“I want to help him,” Eddie offered into the silence, eyes firm on the road. “If I can.”

When Jeff didn’t immediately respond, Eddie thought that was the end of the conversation, but as they approached Jeff’s neighborhood, the boy next to him spoke up again.

“Steve needs the help. Something’s really wrong with him, Eds.”

“You’re turning over to Gareth’s side?” Eddie joked, the words thin and frail and instantly disappearing the second he put them in the air.

“No,” Jeff replied, no veil of humor over his words. “There’s something wrong with him like there’s something wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Eddie said on instinct, hating the bitter scoff Jeff gave. He pulled up to a stop sign and put the van all the way in park, turning in his seat and giving Jeff his full attention

“Look at me.” Eddie ordered, waiting until Jeff’s dark eyes met his own in the dim light of the streetlamp before speaking again.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Jeff. Nothing.” He said, making sure that there was zero wiggle room in his voice.

Because there wasn’t, and Eddie hated that his best friend thought there was. There was something wrong with Hawkins, with the country they lived in, with the world. There was something wrong with a species that somehow made color a defining factor in a person’s worth, but there was not, and never would be, anything wrong with who Jeff was.

“Fine, then something wrong happened to both of us,” Jeff amended, a ghost of a smile crossing his face at Eddie’s insistence. “Either way, just be careful with him,”

“Aren’t you supposed to be giving Steve the shovel talk? Not the other way around?” Eddie joked, putting the van back in gear and turning onto Jeff’s street.

“When you get him, I’ll give him the talk,” Jeff promised, crossing his heart as he did.

When, not if. Just one word instead of the other, but a flush of warmth flooded Eddie from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Jeff was right to use the word ‘when’, because Eddie’s chances were not even ‘if’, but he loved the positivity.

“Have a good night, man,” Jeff said as they pulled into his driveway, holding out a hand for a quick shake as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Hey,” Eddie called, grabbing the edge of Jeff’s coat as he stepped out of the van. “Us freaks stick together. Always.”

It was a little reminder, just a hint of a conversation they had over a year ago, but judging by the way Jeff’s eyes softened and his shoulders lowered, he knew exactly what Eddie was reminding him of.

“Always,” Jeff echoed, squeezing Eddie’s wrist once before he hurried towards his darkened house and slipped inside. Eddie waited till the porch light turned off before sighing heavily, resting his head against the steering wheel for a moment before reversing again.

Back to the lion’s den.

The house was dark as Eddie quietly let himself back in, but the glow of the pool and the embers of the fire crackling in the fireplace gave just enough light to see the aftermath of the party. It wasn’t half as bad as some of the messes Eddie had seen from Steve’s previous parties, but it was still pretty messy. There would be a lot of cleanup coming tomorrow, and Eddie’s heart ached when he thought about Steve spending Christmas Eve alone cleaning up his house.

Damn this boy. Eddie didn’t even celebrate Christmas, and here he was worrying over Steve about being alone for it.

Maybe Wayne wouldn’t mind having one more person over for dinner. Usually it was just the two of them, but Wayne loved his strays almost as much as Eddie did, and Steve was an easy guy to care about.

Eddie would ask him tomorrow morning. Call before anyone woke up and see what Wayne said. Then he would offer to help clean and ask Steve when it was just the two of them. After all, no one should be alone on the holidays.

Eddie was so lost in his thoughts, that he almost missed the sound of an angel singing somewhere up above.

Are you lonesome tonight?

Do you miss me tonight?

Are you sorry we drifted apart?

But no, there was no missing that voice. Eddie was a connoisseur of music, but he already knew that almost any other song was ruined for him. He was the cat caught by the canary instead of the other way around, lost in the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in years. It was deeper now, fuller, grown almost into a man from the boy he had been the last time Eddie heard him sing.

Does your memory stray to a bright summer day

When I kissed you and called you sweetheart?

He climbed the stairs slowly, drawn like a moth to a flame, knowing it would burn, but needing to be close anyway.

Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare?

Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?

Outside the room now, Eddie could see it all while still staying hidden. Steve was sitting on the floor, his head leaned back against the bed that was filled to the bursting with his sleeping children.

His entire self was on display for Eddie, not just his body, but his soul and his mind, a gift being given without knowing, and Eddie was too selfish not to take it.

Is your heart filled with pain?

Shall I come back again?

This was the boy Gareth couldn’t see, but the one Eddie couldn’t stop looking for. A boy who knew their first memory together. Without a doubt. Who had never forgotten, no matter how much Eddie tried to convince himself he had.

There was no other reason to pick this song.

Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

And without permission Eddie was thrust into a memory.

Despite it only being his sophomore year, Eddie was more than used to getting detention. In the two years since he had moved to Hawkins, Eddie had earned his ‘problem child’ status at least twice over. This particular afternoon, he was stuck sitting at a graffitied desk in the detention room because he dared to argue when his teacher told him that it was valid to not believe in evolution when it went against your religious beliefs.

Evolution. The base of all humanity.

She was wrong, but she was the one with all the power, so Eddie was the one in trouble.

Still it could’ve been worse. Wayne had given him the van for his fifteenth birthday, so he wasn’t stuck waiting on the steps for a ride home after missing the bus. It wasn’t technically legal, but Hopper tended to look the other way as long as Eddie continued to give him discounts on ‘merchandise’.

All Eddie had to do was wait out the clock. Mr. Whiter had already fallen asleep at the desk up front and at six, Eddie would be free. Maybe he could even stop at Benny’s. The man always gave him extra fries to bring home to Wayne, and Eddie was making good money now that Rick was in the slammer. He was the last dealer left in town, so things were looking up.

Well things would be looking up, except the kid next to him refused to stop sniffling.

Eddie muffled an irritated sigh, sliding his eyes over to take stock of the boy sitting across the way. Clearly a freshman, and obviously his first time in detention. He was looking around the room with wide-eyed horror, slightly terrified of every single thing he saw, and obviously trying to brush tears away from his bruised cheek and busted lip.

Normally, Eddie would just tell him to shut up. That detention was barely anything to have to deal with in the grand scheme of things, but he had seen the fight that landed the kid in detention, and it had been bad enough to warrant some misery.

One second he and another boy (obviously a friend given how upset the kid was) were laughing by his locker, and the next second they were exchanging blows. It had been bad, taking three teachers to separate them, and somehow this kid had gotten in trouble for the whole thing!

But Eddie had seen the start, and it was the other twerp that had thrown the first punch. Yet somehow, he was already on the bus home and this schmuck was stuck in detention with the Freak of Hawkins High

The unjustness gnawed at Eddie’s soul, and the longer the kid sat there doing nothing but brush at his already dry cheeks, the harder it was to ignore him.

Fuck it. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon.

Eddie grabbed his notebook, slamming it open to a fresh page and dragging his favorite purple pen across the paper, taking a cursory glance at Mr. Whiter’s snoring form before sliding his chair over to the other boy.

“Hi!” Eddie said, throwing a big smile in the kids direction and hoping that would grease the wheels a little. Eddie knew how intimidating he could look to the rest of the world, and he liked it that way, but it sometimes made it hard to make friends.

Sure enough, the kid startled the second Eddie spoke, looking at him the way a deer looks at the hunter right before they hear the death shot. He didn’t seem like the type to just outright tell Eddie to fuck off, but he did look massively uncomfortable with Eddie invading his space.

Oh well, what was the worst that could happen?

“Wanna kill some time?” Eddie offered, holding up his notebook before placing it down on the desk in front of them. A tic tac toe board sat in the middle of the page, and a scorecard was up in the top corner with the word ‘Eddie' on one side and the words ‘Random Kid 'on the other.

A barely there smile glanced across the kids face as he looked down at the page, and then those big brown eyes were on him. Eddie waited patiently, forcing his body to stay still which was actually a pretty herculean task— not that this kid knew. He had the worm on the hook and the line in the water, and now he was just waiting for the curious fish to bite.

Whatever the kid was looking for, he must’ve found it because that same soft, shy smile was gifted to Eddie as he leaned down, rooting around in his backpack for his own pen. When he found the one he was looking for, he carefully crossed over Eddie’s purple writing, replacing ‘Random Kid’ with just one word instead.

“Well, Steve, let’s hope your tic-tac-toe powers are better than your fighting skills,” Eddie joked, pleased when instead of getting mad, Steve’s cheeks darkened in a pretty little blush, and he simply ducked his head with a soft protest and an embarrassed smile.

They played a few rounds in relative silence, the occasional quiet groan or cheer when one or the other managed to clinch a victory. It was nice, a little boring, but far preferable to what they had been doing before.

And then Steve’s pen died.

It was a slow death, long and drawn out with some furious scribbling to try and get one last juice for the squeeze.

“Here, man, just take mine. I’ve got a spare somewhere,” Eddie offered, not even thinking twice as he gave away his favorite pen, even though he never let anyone borrow that pen. Wayne had gotten it for him on a day trip to Indianapolis for his birthday, just a tiny trinket to commemorate the day, and Eddie loved it to death.

There was no way Steve could have known that, and yet he was looking at the pen like it was a live snake.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Steve asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the clearly treasured object in front of him.

Eddie looked up at the other boy, furrowing his brow.

“Why not?” Eddie said with a shrug, going back to his notebook with a plain black pen. He was scratching out another tic-tac-toe board to add to the dozens that were already on the page, but paused when he saw Steve wasn’t picking up his own pen.

“People aren’t just nice,” Steve insisted, giving Eddie an unexpectedly guarded look. “They always want something…so what do you want from me?”

“I want to make this afternoon a little less unbearable, I want to fight the system, and I want to make you feel better.” Eddie offered, quirking his head to the side and picking up his favorite purple pen to offer once more to the other boy, “Isn’t that enough?”

They stared at each other for a long second, until Steve’s face broke into an incredulous smile and he ducked his head down.

“You’re really weird,” he said with a soft laugh, taking the pen. It was a lovely sound, like birds singing in the morning, or the first soft strum of a guitar as practice began.

Eddie needed to hear it again.

From there they were off, talking about everything and anything. Eddie shared about all of the ridiculous reasons he had gotten detention over the years, and Steve explained that the other punk from the fight was Tommy, apparently his best friend for his entire life. They had lived next to each other since Steve had moved to Hawkins as a kid, and had done every single thing together. The reason Tommy had started the fight was Steve had told him he wasn’t sure he wanted to go to basketball try-outs tomorrow.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just want to try some other stuff too you know?” Steve said, looking up from their game to catch Eddie’s eye, “We’re in high school now, so it’s the time to try something new, isn’t it?”

“Sure it is!” Eddie agreed eagerly, holding himself back from going on a diatribe about the laundry basket devils that ran the school and instead talking about all of the clubs he was in. He couldn’t really see Steve enjoying Marching Band or Creative Writing, but Drama might be a good fit, or maybe Art.

“You could even join the new club I’m trying to start if you wanted,” Eddie offered, trying to stay casual but practically vibrating at the thought of having someone else to show Higgins that Hellfire was worthy of a place at the table.

“A new club?” Steve asked.

“Yea, it’s gonna be great,” Eddie started, taking a deep breath to start his long rant about the joys of dungeons and dragons, “So it’s called—”

“Alright boys,” a nasally voice droned from the front of the room. “Time to pack it up.”

Both boys jumped at Mr. Whiter’s interruption, and Eddie rolled his eyes, frustrated at being stopped right as he had started to get to the good stuff. The geometry teacher either didn’t notice or didn’t care, too eager to get back to his own home to do whatever geometry teachers did when they weren’t at school.

If Eddie had to guess, it was probably fucking their wives with compasses while reciting geometric formulas as foreplay. That seemed right.

“And don’t let me catch you in here again, Mr. Harrington. I would hope your parents had taught you better,” Mr. Whiter said as they trudged past him. His blank potato looking face was only showing the barest hints of disappointment, but that was still enough to make Steve cringe away.

“Yes sir,” he whispered, all joy from the last hour they had spent together vanishing in an instant.

“What? No warning for me Mr. Whiter?” Eddie inquired, batting his eyes and trying to take the attention away from Steve.

“I don’t particularly like wasting my breath on hopeless cases, Mr. Munson,” Whiter droned, half raising one brow, as if shocked that Eddie would even bother to ask for an admonishment. “Try to get your homework done tonight, will you? I’d hate to add another zero to my gradebook,”

Hot shame rushed down Eddie’s spine, replaced quickly by a lightning fury that made his lips loose and his logic take a quick hike.

“Well, I don’t particularly like making promises I can’t keep, sorry Tighty-Whiteys!” Eddie declared, grabbing Steve’s hand and dragging him away before they could get in any trouble because of Eddie’s big fat mouth.

“Jesus H Christ, that guys a dick!” Eddie shouted, both boys laughing breathlessly as they burst through the doors of the school.

“You gonna do the homework?” Steve said through his giggles.

“Now? Hell no!” Eddie swore, cackling as he did and jumping up onto the low wall next to the school. “Gotta fight the system however you can, Stevie. Trust me. Listen to your elders.”

“Whatever you say,” Steve said, continuing to laugh at Eddie’s antics. He idly looked around the parking lot, his mood starting to darken as he looked again, searching the parking lot again, but Eddie wasn’t exactly sure what for.

Then Steve sighed, plopping down on the curb and wrapping his arms around his knees resting his chin on top of them and rapidly blinking.

“What’re you doin’?” Eddie asked with concern, shocked at Steve’s sudden turn and hopping down from his spot on the wall.

“My parents aren’t here,” Steve muttered glumly, staring out at the empty lot instead of looking at Eddie as he sat on the curb next to Steve. “The school called after the fight, and they knew when I was getting out, but my dad’s probably going to make me wait ‘till after dinner or something.”

It wasn’t exactly the most damning thing to say in the world, Eddie could think of a dozen things that his dad had done to him that were worse, but the thought of making his own son wait for hours in the cold and dark still made something in his stomach squirm. He could never imagine Wayne doing anything like that to him.

Steve curled up even tighter around himself, completely unaware of Eddie’s internal struggle.

“God, I bet they’re so pissed.” Steve whispered into his knees. “And now my dad’s going to have to come get me, and he’s going to be even madder about that—”

“Why don’t I give you a ride home?” Eddie offered in an instant, shocking even himself with the boldness of the offer. He had just met the kid only an hour ago, but Steve’s genuine nature touched something in him, and there was a magnetic pull to want to help him that Eddie couldn’t quite explain just yet. “Then at least they won’t be mad at you about needing a ride, right?”

It would make more sense for Steve to say no, to try and play it off, but instead he was giving Eddie a watery smile and a look of gratitude as he nodded, starting to stand.

Eddie had never really worried about what the van looked like, but as they walked towards where it was, Eddie jogged ahead, trying to throw the multitudes of wrappers and junk into the back where Steve wouldn’t see. Luckily for him, the younger boy seemed enraptured by the simple fact that Eddie had a car at all.

“I want something cool like a Beemer or a truck, but my mom doesn’t want me to get a car ‘till I’m 18,” Steve said idly, pausing and furrowing his brow as he did, “She’s really weird about me driving for some reason.”

Hopefully, she wouldn’t feel too weird about a random guy giving her kid a ride home in a kidnapper van.

“Pick a tape for us to listen to,” Eddie offered as he climbed into the driver's seat, fighting with his seatbelt as Steve perused his choices. Unfortunately, Steve quickly skipped over all of the metal that Eddie had at the front of the pack, but soon familiar notes began to sing, and Eddie’s shoulders relaxed as he recognized the song.

“Ahhhh, The King. A good choice,” Eddie commented as Elvis’s voice began to croon out into the air between them.

“Who could hate this song?” Steve asked rhetorically, a wry grin on his face as the tune began to take shape.

“I always loved that nickname,” Steve said off handedly, staring out the window at the rows of corn, “King.”

“You should steal it then,” Eddie said automatically. Sure, Steve was a kid right now, but Eddie could see it in his eyes. A few years, a couple more inches, and that kid would have the world eating out of his palm. That sweet nature, that funny little humor, ‘King’ wasn’t too hard to imagine when it came to Steve.

“Maybe,” Steve replied, drawing out the word with a tone that showed that he wasn’t sure about that. He gave Eddie a few more directions, and they got closer and closer to their time being done together. A strange desperation started to make Eddie’s heart race, like he could feel the two of them pulling back into their roles, backing away from whatever they had this afternoon.

“It’s got a good ring to it. King Steve,” Eddie pushed, pausing and making the turn into Loch Nora before he put his heart on the line.

“Why don’t you blow off basketball try-outs tomorrow? Come to my club I’m starting instead. You can meet my friends.”

It was a chance, a choice. Steve could make the right one, and be one of them, or he could get sucked into Hawkins and all of it’s hell hole small town bullshit. Eddie was giving him an out.

“That sounds really fun,” Steve said in a small voice, a secret smile shared between them before it was ruined by a shout from the house in front of them.

“Steven!”

It was a woman’s voice, and Steve’s entire body stiffened. No more smiles, no more relaxing, Steve was a rod of pure steel, with a blank unaffected face. A man and a woman, Steve’s mother and father presumably, were standing on the porch together, twin faces of disappointed gravity that stole all of the air out of the van.

“Well, wish me luck,” Steve laughed without humor, his fingers worrying over the straps of his backpack as he started to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asked, already knowing in his stomach that he wouldn’t.

“Tomorrow,” Steve said, the word so thin and frail now.

And he was gone. Out of the car, and most definitely out of Eddie’s life. But if he was losing this like he seemed to lose everything, Eddie wanted to at least say a proper goodbye.

“See you later Alligator!” Eddie shouted through the window. Steve turned back, haloed by the setting sun, looking far too angelic for a gangly fourteen year old.

“In a while Crocodile,” Steve called back with a slight laugh, just a shadow of his former self, turning and rushing to his waiting parents who gave Eddie one last glare before slamming the door shut.

Eddie waited a second, staring at the locked door and listening to the song on the radio, wishing that the burning in his eyes would just disappear the way Steve had.

Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and care?

Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?

Is your heart filled with pain

Shall I come back again?

Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

Eddie opened his eyes again, back in the present, to find Steve already watching him.

In another world, things worked out differently, but not in this one.

In reality, Steve didn’t come to Hellfire the next day. Tommy was at his locker bright and early, there to laugh the whole thing off and drag Steve to try-outs come hell or high water. Eddie had seen the whole thing, and he had known then and there Steve wasn’t one of them. Steve’s cheek was still bruised, but there were finger shapes on his wrist that definitely hadn’t been there the day before during detention. He had glanced at Eddie, but quickly glanced away, agreeing loudly that try-outs were going to be awesome.

When Steve had caught his eye that day, when he had tried to say he was sorry without words, Eddie hadn’t been in a place to listen. He had a thousand chips of his own weighing on his shoulders, and an inability to see anything but his own opinion as right.

There was no way to be two things at once, not back then.

But that bruised beat up kid was in front of him again, big hazel eyes begging for forgiveness again. And this time, Eddie finally felt ready to give it to him.

“Hi Alligator,” Eddie whispered, the words barely able to get out past the lump in his throat. A small smile graced Steve’s lips as his eyes began to shine in the dark.

“It’s been a while, Crocodile,” Steve whispered back.

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 6 months

Text

Just What You Wanted

Pairing(s): onesided!Pietro Maximoff x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: pietro really misses his chance here, oocpietro? (first time writing him), reader being a big adult and moving on, pietro acting like a child, mentions of sexy time (readerxbucky), toxic!pietro, protective!bucky

Words: 4430

Summary: You decided to take your chance and ask Pietro out. There had to be more to his flirting right? Unfortunately he turns you down but you won't waste your time mourning what could have been. You move on and find a perfect partner in the Winter Soldier.

"Maybe I got the signals mixed up?" You lightheartedly muse to Wanda. Carefully, you push down on the button stopper of the wine box that was situated between the two of you.

Wanda shakes her head. "Don't even give it a second thought. He's my brother and I love him, but you can do WAY better than him." She couldn't fathom why Pietro would reject your proposition of a date. Wanda knew her twin brother liked you. Painfully obvious in the obnoxious manner both of you flirt.

Making a mental note to chew him out later, Wanda tilts the remainder of her own wine glass into her mouth. "He's been acting like a complete ass since we arrived in America. I think now that he has freedom, he's overdosing on it. What was the term Tony used?"

You choke on your wine, a snort burning your nose and throat. "Man-whore."

She nods. "Yes! That is it. He's become quite a man-whore!"

Near dying next to her, you're forced to put down your wine glass or you would ruin your bedspread. Once your hands were free, you use them to clutch your stomach as it aches from your laughter.

Really you weren't that upset about it. You thought you would give it a shot, maybe something was there. No big duh to you.

"Did he really say he didn't want to date you because you're coworkers?" Confusion still plagued Wanda as she slowly blinks her eyes. Trying to understand what her brother was thinking. They didn't have that type twin telepathy. That was mainly based on feelings. "That's complete bull."

"Honestly it's okay. Really." You tell Wanda trying to calm her down. "He's probably right. No harm done."

Wanda placates her own feelings with a smile at how unperturbed you were by the rejection. Pietro was a fool. His loss will be someone else's gain.

Not long after someone else did stumble upon you.

Never before had you worked with the Winter Soldier. You'd seen him around Avenger's HQ and spotted him in the common areas, but you wouldn't say you were close to Bucky Barnes. Only a handful of friendly words had ever been shared between you.

The assignment that paired you together with him would ultimately turn out to be a blessing in disguise. A simple mission that you confidently thought you could finish in no time. The run of the mill shadow organization that possessed weapons of mass destruction and infiltrating said organization. You and Bucky were picked for this based on your success record and skill set. You found it a compliment as you heard nothing but great things about Bucky. He was a fine soldier and outstanding friend to Steve Rogers.

Fury told you the timeline looked to be a month before this organization known as 'Specter' planned to launch its weapon. A major problem was that their base was hidden so both you and Bucky would have to go deep undercover.

You shared an close space with Bucky and found him pleasurable to be around. He was easy on the eyes too. His smile makes every inch of you flutter delightfully. Similar to how flirting with Pietro made you feel.

Patience was required when gathering intel. An operation like this couldn't be rushed. That meant learning more about Bucky. He even manages to pry some stories from your childhood out of you. Things you hadn't remembered in a long time.

When passing binoculars, fingers linger against one another. Excuses of offering warmth just so that you could press yourself against him. His jacket might as well have belonged to you now due to how often you were wearing it now.

"It looks better on you anyway." Bucky would tell you. A heaviness in his gaze puts all of your functions at a halt.

You started noticing how kissable his lips looked. Or the fine veins that run along his hands. Beautiful as they held a gun. Between your legs start to ache for him when you watch Bucky strangling a man for information. You never found violence. . . attractive until you worked with Bucky. It was just a means to get by. A requirement for the world you lived in.

Throughout the mission, you manage to keep things professional. Even though the burning gazes exchanged were still frequent. You had to focus your efforts on completing your assignment. Bucky respects that type of work ethic.

Identifying the main figures within Specter was easy once missing pieces were filled with the information you received along the way. One would be spared for questioning, the other two were quickly disposed of.

When your prisoner was handed over to the government which held dominion, you and Bucky head back to the room you'd been using to hide out in.

You were excited to go home and tell Wanda all about it. You're giddy, imagining her scandalized reaction that you loved. Her eyes would get so big, hands clutching onto your arm begging for more details.

A knock at the door puts a pause in your packing as you go to check the peephole. You open it once you verify it's just Bucky. "You all done packing? Sorry, I'll just be five more minutes."

He closes the door behind him. "It's not that."

The depth of his voice has you shivering, turning back to him with your full attention. He's cleaned off the dirt from his face and changed his clothes. Appeared Bucky even brushed his dark hair. Disheveled Bucky was sexy but cleaned up Bucky was a god damn smoke show. Your bones become trembling jelly as he stalks up to you.

"I believe, we have some personal business to take care of." The corner of his lips twitch up in a predatory manner to show off his sharp cuspids.

"By all means," You breathe out and internally cheer when it doesn't come out as a squeak "lets commence the business Mr. Barnes."

The delay of your return to headquarters did raise brows.

Especially Pietro's.

You took Wanda by the arm and she knew you had a story to tell. Using her magic-like ability, she conjures a bottle of wine accompanied by two glasses.

Two schoolgirls giggling and kicking their legs as they talk about one's crush.

"And he told me-" your cheeks hurt from your smile "that he wants to take me out on a proper date."

Wanda swoons backwards as she falls against your bed. She says something in her native Sokovian before switching to English "I told you that you could do much better than Pietro."

From then on it was a common occurrence to find you and Bucky together. You visit one another's room frequently day and night. Time spent not on assignment, Bucky would take you out on both fun and romantic dates. He wooed you like no other man had before. A goddamn gentleman who ate and slurped your pussy in a way that sucked the soul right out of you.

There were men before Bucky but sweet mercy they couldn't compare to the beast that was Bucky once he got your legs perched atop his shoulders. You would never had taken him for a sloppy eater, not by the way he used his fork and knife when he took you out to fancy restaurants. When he slides in his cold metal fingers, your back spikes up in a arch off the bed.

However, not everyone in the Avenger's Headquarters was happy for you and Bucky.

When Pietro first walked into the communal kitchen to find Bucky's hand up your shirt, he nearly suffered from an aneurysm on the spot. Thankfully his feet reacted faster than his brain and took off in the opposite direction before either of you noticed his presence. He'd heard the office gossip that you and Bucky were an item now. Pietro arrogantly thought that your relationship with the winter soldier was a fling or some fucked up way for get back at him for turning you down.

Hitting the two month mark had Pietro sweating. Your relationship with Bucky was thriving. The sting of betrayal sears his insides. When he voices his woes to his twin, Wanda held no comforting words for him.

"Oh well. They love each other now. So you have to move on." Uncaringly, her attention goes back to her phone. "You had your chance, Pietro."

He shoots his sister a glare. "Have some empathy."

That makes her laugh but at least Wanda puts her phone down and turns back to Pietro. "Empathy? Refresh my memory, what was the real reason why you didn't date her?" He'd told you it was because you were coworkers. Claimed he didn't want things to be weird around HQ. Conveniently forgetting that Wanda and Vision were in a happy relationship. But she knew the disgusting truth.

His eyes turn pleading, round and lined with those pretty lashes he flaunted. "Wanda-"

"No, I want to hear you say it again and really help me try to understand." Her arms cross in front of her.

Pietro takes his bottom lip between his teeth to give it a worrying chew. "I. . . I wasn't ready to be in a monogamous relationship- Hey, I'm being serious." He adds the last part after he hears Wanda snort. "We spent all of our adolescence and young adult lives under HYDRA control. It's only been two years since we were liberated. I want to live a little bit more before settling down."

"And look what that has cost you."

"I didn't think-"

"No, you didn't." Wanda's exasperated. "That's not a good excuse. Bucky is in the same boat as us and just because he missed out on having a life he didn't let that stop him from making things official with her."

In short, Pietro simply had no choice but to deal with it. And his way of dealing with it was bringing home his current ladies in the hopes of catching your attention. If you see him with another woman, maybe your jealous would remind you of your feelings for him. That tactic didn't work and only gained him disapproving looks from his twin. He stopped when it was clear your heart eyes weren't straying from Bucky.

Evident that he wasn't going to win you back, Pietro's disbelief curdled to jealousy.

Words weren't enough to bring him to his senses; none in English or Sokovian reached his ears. Exhausted from trying to speak reason to him, Wanda stops all together. Perhaps her brother needed to fall on his ass to wake up.

You weren't blind to Pietro's spike in hostile conduct. Lately there were a few close calls between Bucky and Pietro. Bucky refused to stand for Quicksilver's attitude. Fists weren't raised- not yet. But if looks could kill, both would be incinerated.

Unable to ignore Pietro at Headquarters, you and Bucky take the plunge and buy an apartment together and move out of the superhero facility all together. The apartment complex was still relatively close to headquarters; mainly housing other staff that worked out of there.

Just because you removed yourselves, you were still Avengers and required to attend functions for different movie fundraisers or anything else that had you in hair and make-up for two hours. It paid off to watch Bucky's mouth near drop at the sight of you. This once-assassin who has blood on his hands truly did something to you when he wore a sharp suit. Seams that are streamline and highlight his broad shoulders. Even his waist was deliciously framed. You wanted to hop on him and wrap your legs around that sinfully sexy waist.

Alas, neither you or Bucky could just continue to stand there drooling over the other.

"Wipe your chin, Barnes." Natasha teases as she passes by. To you she shoots a lively smile. "Come on you two. Free booze and food await us."

Pietro had already found the said free booze; ignoring the free food part. He was obligated to attend the gala, agreed to it months ago. If he backed out now, everyone else would have his ass over the fire.

Though he felt like maybe it would have been better had he just said fuck it and stayed home. Especially when you and Bucky walk in looking like the perfect couple. Cameras went off yet people kept a respectful distance from the two of you. You basically had your own guard dog in the form of the Winter Soldier. He towers over you in a way that told others to back off; a protective hand holding onto your's. Both of you are quite the sight standing next to Wanda and Vision. Wanda happily hugs you, her words lost to the loud background music.

He can't take his eyes off of you.

Alcohol warming his system, Pietro downed glass after glass. There was a momentary warmth he felt inside of him before he caught sight of you again.

Hating seeing the two of you together, Pietro spirals in his own head. Plenty of pretty girls around him, all he could focus on was you and the fact that you were hanging off the arm of a murderer. Everyone seemed to have so quickly forgotten that this man killed Howard and Maria Stark.

The moment you unlatched yourself from Bucky's side to go to the bar, Pietro descent upon you.

Your heightened senses barely register the high velocity sound that you associated with Quicksilver. Half a step back was all you were able to make before you heard his husky voice "You find killers sexy?"

His question rakes claw marks against your mind. "What?"

A mocking laugh puffs out of him and he rolls his eyes over in Bucky's direction. "The Winter Soldier. You like the fact that he's murdered innocent people?"

On edge, you notice in your periphery how people were starting to turn to look your way. The volume of Pietro's voice was gradually starting to rise and draw onlookers.

Flushing and attempting to retain your composure, you keep your shoulders back confidently. “Looks like you’ve had too much to drink.” Your eyes search the crowd for Wanda so that she could take him home before he said or did anything he’d regret later. You couldn’t see her or her floating man among the many bobbing heads. Even unable to find Bucky despite his stature.

“Deflecting the question, I see.” Pietro smugly smirks at you; a sway in the step that he took forward. “Shall I raise my voice so you can hear better?”

You narrow your eyes into deadly slits as you squint at him. He was clearly not in his right mind. “What do you want, Pietro?” What was this sudden change in him about? The moment your relationship became public knowledge, Pietro had been pissy ever since. He was the one who rejected you. The one who told you that you shouldn't date because you're coworkers. He had no right to be jealous.

Bucky suggested a few weeks ago that Pietro may still be interested in you. Proposed that his peaked interest must have been from seeing you and Bucky together. At the time you laughed it off. A corner of your mind was screaming at you to listen to him.

Not appreciating how closely he leaned into you, Pietro snarls "That guy has taken numerous, innocent lives. How could you fuck someone with that kind of blood on their hands?" Now you were sure more and more people were pulling out their phones and recording to send to whatever social media platform.

Heat rises off of your cheeks as they blare like alarms. You felt your body tremble not because you were afraid, no, you tremble under the weight of your own fury. Your powers rattled the bars of the cage you kept it in. Clenching down hard against your back teeth with the effort to keep them at bay.

"You know why he did those terrible things. It wasn't him." Growling softly you try desperately to keep a semblance of a calm tone. You were never the type to show your anger. The public might turn against you if they see you break from Pietro's cruel words. Even the bits you were letting slip was enough for your audience to know you were beyond furious. "He was under HYDRA mind control. You of all people should understand the ways HYDRA implements their tools of pain." It wasn't working.

You needed Bucky before you really snapped your last strand of patience.

At least Pietro had enough sense to take a step away from you. In his drunken stupor, he hadn't noticed the crowd. Dozens of people holding up their smartphones, a few reporters who were allowed in were snapping bright pictures. That's when he saw Bucky and Wanda toward him.

Wanda uses her power to wrap him up in scarlet bindings and drag him to where she stood at the cusp of the crowd. She spits something out in Sokovian toward him, motioning for Bucky to go to your side and get you out of there. He looked more ready to rip Pietro apart but valued your wellbeing over all else and easily strode to you.

He slings a protective arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side in an attempt to keep you out of the sight of cameras.

Those involved were taken back to Avengers HQ so the situation could be straightened out. That is, after Fury was done yelling at everyone for how they acted at what was supposed to be an extravagant gala. Admonished how you and Pietro were acting like dramatic high schoolers with your stunt and how this would definitely tarnish the reputation of earth's mightiest heroes. Pietro was still as drunk as a skunk, hissing at everyone who tried to get near him. Only being held back by Wanda who was still yelling at him in Sokovian. As everyone argued back and forth, only you and Bucky remained quiet.

A small upside could be found. Though it was quite the public altercation, popularity for you and Bucky as a couple sky rocketed. Within the hours of it happening, many social media websites exploded with praise at how you defended your man.

That news wasn't enough to make anyone happy at the moment.

Seeing that nothing would be resolved with such bickering, Bucky clears his throat to draw everyone's attention to him. "May I get a word with Pietro alone?"

Fury doesn't look like he wants to allow it. He was assured though that if anything were to happen, Bucky would be able to stand on his own and fend off an angry Pietro. His single dark eye roves around the room before conceding to Bucky's request.

Motive unclear, you arch a brow in his direction. He just offers you a smile and leans toward you to say "It'll be alright. Jus' wanna talk to him."

"I've seen you 'just talk' to people before." You remind him trying to keep your voice stern. "Don't make things worse. Okay?"

"Yes ma'am." That smirk of his will be the death of you, you just know it. There's a silent exchange between you and Wanda who finally relinquishes her scarlet restraints on her twin brother. Pietro staggers without the additional support that held him up.

"Fifteen minutes. Cameras are rolling." Fury warns as he escorts the others out.

Comfortably strolling forward, Bucky pulls out one of the conference chairs that had been entirely ignored. "Take a seat, Maximoff." Immediately there's a snarl curling Pietro's lips until Bucky rolls his eyes. "Or stand. Doesn't matter I guess. Just, listen to me for a moment."

Inebriated individuals don't understand reason, too caught up in their own tilted perception. He wants to do anything else but listen to Bucky prattle on about how he needs to back off of you. That you belonged to him now and how he wouldn't tolerate Pietro's pursuit of you.

Luck appeared to be on Bucky's side for the alcohol was wearing off of Pietro as he started to lose his steam and reluctantly slink down into the chair opposite Bucky's. His dark eyes hold steady onto the metal armed man. Remembering all too clear the stories that HYDRA would tell him and Wanda about the best operative they've ever had: the Winter Soldier. Would this legend of a man be able to hold off Pietro's speed attacks if he were to try?

Honestly he was tired of being angry. Emotions both positive and negative were siphoned out of him until there was nothing left.

Bucky could see that.

"Whatever we say here, stays here." Bucky speaks again, each word cruelly clipped. They strike Pietro like small arrows. Nothing could prepare him for the dead eyed glare that now pinned him to his chair. "Your behavior stops here. I've been more than patient. Held my tongue and my fist when I wanted to knock some sense into you. I didn't, for her sake since she didn't want to cause any trouble among the team. But you're spoiled brat act can't be tolerated anymore. You embarrassed all of us at the gala and made the Avengers look like fools."

His metal hand curls its fingers inwards toward his palm before releasing; an attempt to calm himself before his tone became too heated.

Pietro waits for any sign of movement for Bucky as the larger man deeply inhales. Finally, Bucky's eyes flick back up to him. "I get it."

With a heavy tongue, Pietro croaks out "Get what?"

"I know why and what has fueled your actions. Underneath it all you may have possibly loved her. You're upset that you lost your chance with her. It sucks, it has to to lose someone as amazing as her. I couldn't imagine. . ."

There's a flicker of anger at how the Winter Soldier spoke to him. Reminded Pietro of when his father would scold him as a child.

Bucky's voice soften when he detects the subtle twitch of Pietro's nose. He promised you that he wouldn't escalate things. "I'm sorry. I feel for you. But. . . I'm not going to be stupid enough to let her go. As long as she'll have me, she's mine."

He wanted to ignore the sincerity that warmed Bucky's words. Wanted to keep what little resentment remained inside.

Abruptly, Bucky stands from his chair; bottom of the legs scraping against the floor and startling Pietro in the process. In half a second, Pietro is up on his feet, taking a defensive position. Though his movements were sloppy as his perception was still muddled from his quickly consumed drinks.

Whatever camaraderie had been built between them in those short minutes of Bucky talking was gone. Back were those assassin sharp eyes. "If you upset her one more time, it won't be me you'll have to deal with. It will be the Winter Soldier coming after you. And I can guarantee not even your speed will be able to stop that monster."

"I told you."

He didn't want to hear it from Wanda right now. Damn her for always being right. Right now he just wanted to forget how he made such an ass of himself in front of so many people. When he wasn't trying to fend off his massive hangover migraine he was scrolling through social media, coming upon videos of how he spat in your face saying all sorts of cruel and vindictive things to you. So many mean comments slandering Quicksilver and adoring the hero couple.

In an attempt to drown out Wanda, Pietro grabs his pillow and lays it over his head.

That wouldn't stop her as she was on the war path. He'd hurt her best friend.

Red tendrils of her power rip his pillow off of his head. Pietro hisses in response and whips his head to narrow his eyes in her direction. "You're going to apologize to her. Because if you don't and pull this kind of shit again, Bucky is going to kill you and I won't be able to stop him. You're an idiot for not realizing how protective he is of her." She mumbles something about how lucky he was that Bucky hadn't smashed his face in the conference room during their private chat.

Quiet for a moment, Pietro sits up and leans his back against the bed's headboard. "I know. . . I know I've fucked everything up. I just. . ."

Wanda still has her arms crossed in front of her chest, posture vibrating with the need to throttle her twin. The frostiness in her expression slackens though at Pietro finally admitting that he was in the wrong. Not like she got satisfaction out of it. It pained her watching her brother act like a total dick head toward her best friend. It wasn't long ago that she thought you and Pietro would make a nice couple.

He sighs and runs a hand through his ash blonde hair, repeating "I've fucked everything up."

"At least you're owning up to it." quietly points out Wanda.

Time was necessary for all wounds to heal. That applied toward the ones Pietro had caused. He gave you space for two days before he came up to you to ask for a private word; promising he'd behave and that he just wanted to apologize for everything. Even told you about what Bucky had said to him.

You knew he told the truth because his face was the definition of genuine remorse and repentance.

For most of his speech he looked at his hands, but when he dared to glance up at you Pietro would hold your gaze. His earnestness brimming in his blue eyes. For so long they had been darkened by his discontent. Now they remind you of the pretty bright hue they used to be.

After a moment of silence, Pietro hesitantly asks "Are you happy with him? Truly?"

"I am. I've never been this happy in my entire life. He makes me happy." A bright smile flourishes on your face. "I love him."

Pietro nods.

"Hey, even if things didn't work out romantically with us doesn't mean I don't want to be friends with you. I do. We had fun as friends." You bump him with your elbow.

A wisp of a smile beckons at his lips but couldn't quite get all the way there. "I'd like that. Eventually. . ."

"Eventually." You repeat in agreement.

Tags:

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

@bakugospartner

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artiststarme · 1 year

Text

Steve is a great singer and Eddie is always enamored whenever he hears him sing in the car or in the shower. Unfortunately, he only ever sings along to shitty music (or music Eddie considers shitty) so Eddie can never truly enjoy it.

He can never convince Steve to sing any Dio or Iron Maiden. Steve outright refuses to listen to any Metallica and claims it reminds him of the Upside Down, although Eddie thinks it's really because he doesn't like how loud it is. It seems that he only ever knows the words to Simon & Garfunkel, Tears for Fears, and Duran Duran. It grates Eddie's nerves but he tries to appreciate Steve's voice regardless.

One day when Steve starts singing along to 'All the Fools Sailed Away' by Dio, Eddie almost crashes the van in his haste to make out with him. He proposed later that day and from then on, Steve makes sure to know the lyrics to Eddie's "angry metal music". It's always to his own benefit.

#Later Steve would sing the lyrics to Corroded Coffin songs and Eddie would fall even more in love.#Steve would sing in his Kermit the Frog impression and Eddie would still love it #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #headcanon

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songforeddiemunson · 3 months

Text

Haunting in Blackwood Hollow Part 2

An Eddie Munson x F!Reader Miniseries

Series Summary: It’s the year 1991. Eddie and reader check into a rented house in the Appalachian woods, joined by Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin. Unfortunately for our gang, things in Blackwood Hollow are never as they appear.

Tropes: established relationship, Jonathan x Nancy, no mention of the events from ST, smut, comedy, fluff, scares, bit of whump (but nothing too crazy)

Series Warnings: Swearing, drinking and weed use, sexual and scary situations, minors please DNI.

Chapter Two: Fool Me Once

Chapter warnings: naughty language, mentions of drinking, weed use. Smut, p in v sex, bit rough (you like it) wrap it before you tap it. Spooky situations

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the smut inspo, @hiscrimsonangel (with this post haha iykyk)

Word Count: ~3K

PART ONE

You stayed up quite late that first night catching up with your old friends, drinking cans of pilsner or oversweet margarita mix from sticky solo cups, laughing your asses off, the ouija board forgotten and back in its box. No longer a big fan of heavy drinking yourself, you cut yourself off after just a few drinks, preferring the more mellow buzz of herb than bubbles.

Jonathan got quite drunk, which was a riot, and his friendly ribbing of Steve always increased in that state, to the delight of everyone in the room. Despite Steve’s history with Nancy (and subsequently Jonathan), the three of them managed to become great friends.

Robin bemoaned what she referred to as her perpetual spinsterhood, making you all laugh; “I don’t think you can legally call yourself a spinster at 23,” Steve said. “Just enjoy not being tied down yet,” he finished, causing the rest of the room to tease him for projecting, considering he couldn’t seem to find his one-and-only either (but he pretended he didn’t mind, fooling nobody).

Steve dated plenty, but Robin struggled with it more than he did for obvious reasons. The two of them were roommates for a time in Indianapolis before going their separate ways. The catalyst; one of Steve’s hookups once implied she would like Robin to join them in the bedroom, which horrified them both so much they ultimately got separate places but still lived on the same block. Robin managed a coffee shop and spoke about her wish to try out for the Indianapolis Philharmonic, which thrilled her but made her so nervous she became nauseated whenever she thought about it for too long. Steve had been employed as a junior high school basketball coach for the past year and decided he would like to go back to school for academic sports; he loved working with the kids.

Nancy filled in the group regarding her grad school studies at Columbia University in New York City for journalism. It was hard work but, true to form, Nancy was excelling, and she had a bright future in print journalism in the city. Jonathan had relocated to be with her and was working as a freelance photographer when he wasn’t working in the kitchen of a popular Brooklyn restaurant. He had ultimately decided not to pursue college and chose to support Nancy instead, thinking that would be the best chance for them as a couple. It caused a lot of friction at first, with Nancy initially pushing Jonathan to go to college, but they were able to work through it and had come out stronger.

After high school Eddie had tried his hand at being a musician, mechanic, bartender and assorted other odd jobs with limited success, and ultimately decided to attend vocational school to become a tattoo artist, which was truly his calling. All the doodles he made for Corroded Coffin and the Hellfire Club paid off, and he was one of the most sought-after ink artists in St. Louis, earning enough for the two of you to live in a nice apartment, despite your modest salary as an administrative assistant for a dentist’s office.

You were all thriving, and it was wonderful to celebrate each other’s successes. The wedding rehearsal was the following evening, and you looked forward to catching up with the younger kids there– “kids” who were all legal adults by this time; a fact that none of you could believe nor enjoyed thinking about. You were all relieved that you weren’t staying with them, despite the less than ideal location in which you found yourselves; those kids were like a pack of ferrets on cocaine, especially when they were all together. It would be too much, so you stuck with your own age bracket.

Finally, around two in the morning, Robin decided to turn in. Nancy and Jonathan followed about fifteen minutes later, leaving you and Eddie alone with Steve.

You stretched and yawned. “I think it’s time for bed. You coming Eddie?”

Eddie waggled his eyebrows at you. “I don’t know, am I?” he asked, his voice dripping with hyperbolic innuendo.

You laughed and gave him a smack on his tightly bedenimed rear end. “Just get moving, Munson.”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted, while Steve rolled his eyes.

It turns out that mercifully, someone did actually change the sheets.

A blessing, honestly, considering you were currently tangled up in them, with the sharp bones of Eddie’s pelvis almost painfully pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs. The bed, old and squeaky with a metal frame that resembled something out of a cold war era prison, was a loud testament to the rhythm of your sex. You couldn’t be bothered to care much, since it felt incredible. The few cans of PBR you had chugged didn’t hurt either.

Eddie had you pinned to the mattress, caged between his arms as he nuzzled and suckled your neck, punctuating soft kisses with nips that would surely leave a mark. You enjoyed it like this sometimes, when he would manhandle you just a bit, claiming you, marking you, and fucking you roughly into the mattress. Sure, there was a time and place for soft lovemaking, but sometimes, you just wanted to be nailed.

“Feel so good baby,” he murmured into your ear, barely more than an exhalation, most of his efforts being concentrated on slamming his cock into your depths. You could barely do more than wiggle and squeal with the way he had you immobilized, which seemed to heighten every sensation. Even his breathy little grunts and gasps were sending you into the stratosphere. You clawed at his back, and the resulting moan in your ear helped bring on climax number three, and you bit into Eddie’s shoulder to stifle your cries.

Eddie’s pace began to falter, and he grasped your waist roughly with his fingers as he shuddered and thrust to his own completion, ending with a final grind of his hips against your sensitive clit, making you yelp. “Ha,” he burst triumphantly; he could be a cocky shit when it came to the pleasures he could draw out of you. He also wasn’t wrong.

After a tender kiss, Eddie rolled off of you and retrieved his boxers from the floor, sliding them on before fumbling around on the bedside table for his smokes. He lay back down with his back propped up against the pillow, lighting a cigarette and sighing contentedly. He looked at you and grinned.

“You think everyone heard us?”

You chuckled. “I don’t see how they couldn’t,” you said, as you dressed in a tank top and sweatpants. “This bed is so squeaky, it almost wasn’t worth even trying to be quiet.”

Eddie laughed. “You sound so cute though when you try,” he said as he flicked his ash into the ashtray on his nightstand. “All squeaky and whiny,” he finished with a wink.

“How dare you,” you joked. “I’m a vision of propriety.”

“Properly fucked, you mean.”

“Eddie!” you scolded, laughing.

“I’ll take it back when it stops being true darlin.’”

“You’re the worst,” you countered.

“You love me,” he said.

“Dammit, you’re right, I do,” you said. You bent to kiss him, and as you pressed your lips to his, you felt him smile.

“I love you too babe,” he said.

It was incredible, how he could still make your heart beat faster after all this time.

You headed into the ensuite bathroom and started to go through your usual bedtime routine of brushing your teeth and washing your face. You were suddenly struck by how exhausted you were; between traveling, cleaning, drinking (and smoking) and some vigorous sex, you were thoroughly spent. You glimpsed through the open bathroom door that Eddie had picked up his paperback of Needful Things, and was reading it by the light of the table lamp.

You clicked off the bathroom light and were just about to exit when something caught your eye out of the window. You peered closer to the thick glass to get a better look.

There was someone standing below on the lawn.

You couldn’t make out any details, but you had the sudden, hair-raising sense that whoever it was was looking right at you.

You jumped backward in alarm. "Eddie!” you shouted.

He was out of bed and by your side in an instant. “What?! A rat? Why are you standing in the dark, babe?” He peered around the room intently.

“No, down there!” You pointed out the window, down onto the grass, but now the figure was gone. “But…but it was there a second ago…”

Eddie bent to the glass for a closer look, brows furrowed. "I don’t see anything. What was it?“

"A person! They were definitely standing down there. And babe– I swear it was looking at me.”

A look of intense wariness crossed his features, and he straightened, all business. "Are you sure?“

"Yes! It was right there!”

“Stay here.” He was out of the bathroom like a shot. He quickly pulled on his flannel pajama pants and strode from the bedroom. You waited with your heart in your throat as you heard the front door below you creak open. You watched out the window as Eddie came into view on the lawn, carrying a fireplace poker in one hand. He clicked on a flashlight and began to sweep the property with it. It was late, and the shadows from the trees that peppered the property created long ribbons of darkness across the grass that the lights from the house were unable to penetrate. You realized that it must have been difficult for Eddie to see out there, even armed with a flashlight, and you broke into gooseflesh at the thought.

Screw this, I’m not leaving him alone out there, you thought to yourself, and left the bathroom. Eddie hadn’t turned on any of the lights in his wake, and in the darkness the house had taken on an even more sinister quality than when you had arrived. You tried to push it out of your mind, dismissing it as the aftershock from your scare. It permeated regardless, with a nearly palpable weight. You hurried downstairs and toward the front door, clicking on lights as you went. The downstairs area was deserted; everyone else must have also turned in. You quickly scanned the entry area for a weapon, finding only an umbrella. It would have to do.

You stepped outside, eyes sweeping the lawn for Eddie, hearing only crickets as you peered into the trees. In the moments since you had taken your eyes off of him he had disappeared from view. Your heart was pounding and your breath misted around you in the chilly night air. You crept forward slowly, and you found that your eyes were having difficulty adjusting to the darkness. The shadows were too inconsistent. Anyone could be watching me from those trees and I’d never know it, you thought. Dammit babe, where did you go?

“Babe?” you called softly. Silence. “Eddie,” you called again, a little louder this time. Was that a twig snapping?

“What?” said a voice, from directly behind you.

You squeaked with fright and whirled, striking out with the umbrella. "Ow, what the fuck?!“ Eddie bent forward, clutching his head.

"Oh my fucking god Eddie! You scared me!”

He rubbed his head in irritation where you had whacked him, mussing up his curls. “What are you doing out here? I asked you to stay inside!”

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t just stand there waiting for you. Are you alright?” you stood on your toes to get a better look at your boyfriend’s scalp, but thankfully there was no blood.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, then sighed resignedly. "I didn’t see anything in front, so I circled round the back to be sure. There’s nothing out here that I can see. Are you sure you saw someone?“

"Positive.”

“Your eyes couldn’t have been playing tricks on you?”

“Edward,” you said, your voice taking on an acerbic tone. “You know I’m not prone to hysterics.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, and hugged you to him. "Maybe it was Steve or something.”

“If it was, where is he now? I didn’t see anyone when I came downstairs.”

Eddie could only shrug at that.

Once back inside, he bolted the front door. "Seems solid,” he said. He went around the house and checked to be sure all the windows and the back door were locked, and when he was satisfied, you went back to the bedroom together. As you passed Jonathan and Nancy’s room, Jonathan opened the door and poked his head out, his hair mussed and sticking up in every direction.

“Someone scream?” he mumbled blearily.

“Eddie saw a spider, go back to bed,” you said. Eddie shot daggers at you with his eyes, but a slight upward curl of his lips belied his irritation. Jonathan only nodded and closed his door.

Back in your own room, you undressed and crawled under the covers, snuggling up to Eddie.

It was quiet for a moment, but the wheels in your mind were still turning. “Maybe it was just a local cutting across the lawn on the way somewhere. They may not be used to the house being occupied,” you offered.

"Maybe,” Eddie replied, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Will the light bother you if I read for a while?” he asked.

“Not at all,” you said. "Going to sleep with the light on will be okay with me tonight.”

The following morning you shuffled downstairs for breakfast, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as your housemates warmed up the oatmeal or ate the boxed cereals that Nancy helpfully supplied the previous evening.

“Did anyone see or hear anything strange last night?” you asked the group as you poured yourself a cup of hot coffee.

“I think I did,” Steve began. “Some sort of instrument I think. What was that Robin?”

“Bedsprings,” Robin stated simply as she swallowed a bite of peaches ‘n cream flavored oatmeal, looking the worse for wear.

“Uh, besides that,” you said, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. Eddie laughed.

“Don’t hate,” he said.

“I heard Eddie scream at a spider,” Jonathan said, and this time it was your turn to laugh.

“It was NOT me, and it was not a fucking spider!” Eddie yelled, offended by the notion.

“No,” you said, quelling your giggles. “It was actually me. I– I thought I saw someone outside last night, watching me when I was getting ready for bed.”

Steve sat forward, suddenly wide awake. “Wait, really?”

You nodded. “Eddie went out to look for whoever it was but he didn’t find anything.”

“Oh shit,” Robin said, “that’s the last thing I needed to hear. Can we go to a hotel now?”

“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation,” Nancy said. “Maybe it was just a local?”

“The nearest neighbors are a quarter mile away,” you said.

“I dunno,” Jonathan chimed in, “you hear stories about cannibals living in the woods in Appalachia…”

“That’s a gross stereotype,” Robin scolded.

“Feel free to ignore him,” Nancy said with a sigh.

“My mom was from Appalachia!” Eddie spat.

“Okay, nevermind,” Jonathan said, as he shrank down in his seat and went back to his oatmeal.

“Well if it wasn’t a local, what could it have been?” Steve asked.

“Maybe messing with the ouija board woke something up,” Robin said, and though you normally didn’t place much stock in those things, you felt something akin to an ice cold finger trail down your spine. You shivered.

Steve chuckled. “You can’t be serious.”

“No really!” Robin cried defensively. “In the movie Witchbo–”

“I am not using a shitty 80s horror film as a guidebook!” Steve shouted.

“Whatever,” Robin said. “If you guys get murdered by an evil axe-wielding ouija spirit, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You laughed it off along with everyone else, yet the idea wouldn’t leave you. It was unsettling, to put it mildly.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was studying your expression. You did always wear your emotions on your sleeve, and he could sense your unease.

“So,” Eddie said. "What’s everyone wearing to the wedding?"

His umber eyes slid over to yours as the conversation devolved into fashion and hairstyling chatter.

Thank you, you mouthed to your boyfriend, and his Mona Lisa smile wordlessly said, I’ve got you. And he did, that much you would never be unsure about. Regardless of what was happening in your life, Eddie Munson would always have your back, which made you feel very lucky indeed.

You didn’t know it yet, but it was a sentiment you would come to rely upon much more in the days to come.

To Be Continued...

More is coming! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of every fic writer!

MASTERLIST

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson series #stranger things fic #stranger things series

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armored-angel4798 · 19 days

Text

Eddie was excited. It’s hard not to be when you get to hang out with your best friend who you hadn’t seen for TWO WEEKS. Steve had been clocking a lot of overtime at his new vet tech job. While he loves that Steve is doing something he enjoys now, he misses his beautiful face. Robin was coming much later in the day because unfortunately, she still had to work. Eddie was so excited to get some alone time with Steve. He could hear the stereo playing from the front door. Not really Eddie’s music, but if it makes Steve smile he’ll listen to anything. The scene Eddie was met with when he walked into the house turned his brain into mush.

Steve was dancing through the kitchen in his briefs that left NOTHING to the imagination and using a spatula as a microphone. Eggs were frying on the stove, almost seeming forgotten as Separate Ways played. Eddie officially loves Journey, in fact, he needs to go buy their tapes right now. He’s frozen. Looking away from Steve being happy and free (read: in tight little briefs) is the most monumental task he has ever attempted. He failed. Much like his first two attempts at senior year. He was debating on clearing his throat to let Steve know he was there when he pointed the spatula right at him. Steve froze. Eddie, still frozen, gulped and kept staring. Really, what else was he supposed to do? He has been in love with his best friend for the better part of a year and he walks in on this? His brain is gone. It has leaked out of his ears and been replaced with his dick. His dick that had very much chubbed up without his say so.

“Eddie!” Steve sounds shocked.

It broke Eddie out of his brainmushdickhardfrozen state, and he panicked.

“I’ll go, um, I should leave, yeah. I’ll leave and you can call me, uh, when you’re decent. NOT that you aren’t decent. You’re the most decent man I know and I really respect you so much. So I gotta go.”

“Eddie! Eddie! Wait don’t go.”

“You’re…. IT’S really fine, Steve. I can come back later I’m sorry to interrupt your morning.”

Eddie convinced his cinder block feet to turn so he could walk away. A hand wrapped around Eddie’s wrist before he could take a step.

“Eddie, please stay. I’ll.. I’ll put on some clothes and we can hang. I just didn’t realize you’d be up so early.”

“I would rather you didn’t put on clothes.”

Steve’s eyes widened and Eddie slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Oh, really?” Steve asked.

“Oh my god!” Eddie shrieked not hearing Steve’s seductive tone. “I can’t believe I said that out loud! I’m so sorry Steve, I will go. I’ll just go. I don’t need to be here today. I’m just making a fool of myself. I’m…”

Eddie was shut up by a pair of lips pressing to his. Operation brainmushdickhard was back in full swing as he was pressed against a wall.

“Shut up, Eddie.” Steve whispered when he pulled away.

“You, uh, you are really good at making me.”

“I gotta get my eggs, but then we can discuss further what our plans are for the day.”

Eddie has died. This is the only explanation. He’s dead and this is his heaven. The only thing that would make this better is if Ozzy Osbourne burst through the door asking him to join his band. He stared at the door waiting for it to happen. Then he realized looking at the door was making him miss Steve’s ass jiggling. Can’t have that. Steve was turning back towards him. Plate of eggs abandoned on the counter, pan in the sink. Eddie imagines that this is what it feels like to be a prey animal stalked by a lion. Steve kissed him again and Eddie was helpless, his knees weak as Steve ran his hand down Eddie’s torso. Steve nipped at his ear and Eddie /whined/.

“What do you say we see what we can do about this, hmm?” Steve whispered in his ear as he palmed Eddie through his jeans.

“Is this real?” He asked

“If you want it to be.”

“I want it. I want you so bad.”

“You have me, baby.”

Eddie melted. When Robin got to Steve’s house they were clothed on the couch (thank God). Eddie was practically in Steve’s lap.

“Oh, you finally got your shit together.” She said when she saw them, “also, I’m not staying over if you didn’t change your sheets.”

Eddie blushed and Steve laughed opening his other side for Robin to join them.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie is a disaster #Steve just wanted to dance and have some eggs #or did he?#what if it was planned?

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stvharrngton · 10 months

Note

going to be annoying and req this w steeb also ily baby <3

❛ show me how much you missed me. ❜

anything for u 🥰

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, oral (m receiving), mean/dom!steve

prompt: “show me how much you missed me” from this (x) list

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke

“I miss him.”

Regret consumed you as soon as those words left your mouth. A drunken confession to Robin, who, unfortunately for you, was best friends with your ex-fling.

You were never really something, never exclusive, never together for real. It’s not that you didn’t like each other like that, you did, you really did. It just never worked out that way, you both opted for fooling around with each other, and each other’s feelings, than making anything serious.

You had mutually called it quits, he had said it was for the best. But your feelings hadn’t changed, they never would and too much vodka mixed with the way you missed having his hands on your body and his lips on your neck resulted in the ungodly confession in the dead of the night in someone’s backyard.

So Robin told Steve immediately when she saw him the next day. Of course she would, how you ever would have expected her to keep that big of secret, she would never know.

Steve couldn’t wait to see you with this hoard of brand new information. Robin had tried warning him you were drunk when you confessed but Steve knew that drunk words were sober thoughts.

When Steve found you at the same party on Friday night, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist whilst you attempted to pour yourself a second drink, dragging you upstairs and into a bedroom.

He spun you around with you back colliding with the wooden door, the lock clicking behind you.

“Steve?” What are you—“ His lips were on yours in a flash.

It was hot, heated and surprising? Your eyes widened at the unexpected contact. Hands held in suspense at your sides, you slowly melted into the kiss as Steve’s tongue came out to lick at your bottom lip.

A pretty little sigh left your lips as the boy finally pulled away from you, your eyelids fluttering back open to see Steve’s big brown orbs staring back at you. His eyes scanning your features for something, anything.

“You miss me?” was all he said, fingers lingering on your face.

You averted your gaze, cursing Robin under your breath. Your lips moved to speak but no words came out. You didn’t know what you wanted the outcome to be, unsure whether to answer yes or no.

“Cat got your tongue?” Steve fired a second question at you now, eyebrows raised in suspense. His hands travelled down to your waist, fingers clutching at the material of your dress, eyes raking over your figure.

Steve knew what he wanted your answer to be. Cause Steve really wanted to kiss you again, wanted to feel your soft skin beneath his fingertips, to have you begging and writhing beneath him.

“Do you miss me?” He asked for the third and final time, finger hooking underneath your chin and bringing your gaze to meet his own.

“I—yeah,” you muttered, breath hitching in your throat at the way he was looking at you. Steve’s eyes were darkening by the second, tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

“Yeah?” Steve breathed, as you nodded in response.

He walked you over to the bed slowly, halting when the backs of your legs hit the frame. Steve towered over you, his face leaning into yours, his lips brushing against your own softly.

“Wanna show me how much you missed me?” He breathed into your kiss, “Gonna get on your knees f’me, pretty girl?”

Steve’s voice was like velvet. Sexy and rough with his words going straight to your core. You nodded, blinking your big doe eyes up at him. His lips curled up into a smirk as he pinched your chin between his thumb and finger. The boy always had you in some sort of trance. He’d say jump and you’d ask how high, every damn time.

He moved to kiss you again, his own hands fumbling with his belt and the zipper on his jeans, maneuvering until you had switched places, Steve planted firmly on the mattress with his jeans halfway down his thighs.

Steve watched with heavy eyes as you bent down on your knees, taking your place between his legs, his stiffening cock aching beneath its confines. He felt the heat prickle at his skin as you pulled his jeans the rest of the way down, exposing his meaty thighs for your lips to kiss at.

“Shit,” he groaned softly, leaning back on his palms. Your dainty fingers ghosted over the bulge in his boxers, featherlight just how Steve liked.

Soon enough Steve’s boxers joined his jeans around his ankles. Cock free and hard, begging to be licked and sucked. Steve hissed as the cool air hit his length, bottom lip coming between his teeth as your fingers wrapped around the base.

You licked a flat stripe up the underside of his cock, tongue stopping to swirl around the tip. Steve scooped your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, your soft strands held loosely between his fingertips as you wrapped your lips around his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve moaned as your head began to bob up and down on his cock, “look so pretty suckin’ on my cock.”

You hummed around his length as his words sent a shiver down your spine. The vibrations made Steve’s cock twitch in your warm mouth, an unsanctimonious moan escaping his lips.

The noise made all the heat rise to your cheeks, your lashes fluttering up at the boy as you tried, as subtly as you could, to move your fingers south, between the skirt of your dress. Tongue slurping and sliding over the length of Steve’s cock, spit dribbling from your lips down the shaft in hope he wouldn’t notice.

But he did. He always did.

“Are you touching yourself down there, sweetheart?” He questioned, eyes now completely glazed over with lust, his cheeks rosy and a curl of his hair hanging across his forehead, “I hope you’re not.”

Your fingers halted their movements as you released Steve’s heavy cock with a pop from your lips, so you could splutter out your reply.

“No! I wasn’t Steve, I promise— I—“

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, hooking his index finger underneath your chin, bringing your gaze to him, “you really missed me that bad, huh?”

He was cruel with it, teasing and taunting. The smirk on his lips made you feel hot under the collar, your dress suddenly feeling too small and tight. You simply nodded up at the boy, your eyes wide, wet and pleading.

“And I promise I’ll fuck you good later, hard and deep, just the way you like it,” Steve began, thumb pulling at your bottom lip, “but I need you to get that pretty little mouth of yours back on my cock.”

You whimpered as you swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding as you wrapped your lips around Steve’s length once more. Tongue swirling all around, taking him in inch by inch until the tip of his cock was hitting the back of your throat, over and over.

Steve groaned as his eyes rolled back, lips parted and jaw slack. Your mouth felt too good wrapped around him, nice and warm and wet only pushing Steve closer and closer to his orgasm.

“That’s it, baby,” he whined, “just like that. Sucking my cock so fuckin’ good.”

His words kept you going, pushing you further and further. Your free hand came up to cup Steve’s balls, heavy in your hand as his thighs began to tense, his bottom lip tucked nicely between his teeth.

“Fuck, yes,” Steve whimpered, a strained sound tumbling from his lips as your mouth sped up, “gonna take all my cum, pretty girl? You’re gonna swallow every last drop, yeah? Like a Good. Fucking. Girl.”

And with that, Steve hit his limit. Climax racking his body, pleasure rolling throughout him as spurts of hot cum decorated your mouth and the back of your throat. Pretty little moans and gasps escaping his lips as his eyes were screwed shut. Mumbling fuckfuckfuck and renditions of oh, baby, please being whispered into the air.

Steve came to after a minute, regaining all clarity after the remnants of his orgasm fled his body. He let his fingers skirt down the side of your cheek, moving to lightly wrap around your throat as he felt you swallow his seed.

“There’s a good girl.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things smut #k.fic #request #ivy<3

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi! If you still write for Nurse Steve, could you possibly do one where she’s in Labor but she doesn’t tell Steve because she doesn’t want to worry him. And then she has complications and someone finally lets him know and he drops everything and runs to her.

AN | Oh? It’s finally time for these to have their first baby? Okay 🥺 I did take some liberty with this, but I hope y’all enjoy! This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language, Labor/Delivery

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You grew more impatient and antsy with every passing day. Every day since you’d been off for the last two weeks had left you wondering when the day would finally come. Your due date was just a few days away and you really just wanted all of this to be over (the whole being almost nine months pregnant thing did that to you) and to finally meet your daughter.

There wasn’t much you could do at this point, especially around the house or out in public, so you were basically just waiting. This kid was taking her sweet time to make an appearance. Nesting had already happened and by now you were sure that everything was in place as it needed to be. Steve was still working, at your insistence, although he was more than prepared to stay home with you so you didn’t completely lose your mind.

And, you know, in the event that you finally went into labor. But you assured him that he would be the first to know, and if it happened while he was working, someone could easily fetch him. Instead you busied yourself with baking and cooking, making plenty of treats to keep your sweet tooth satisfied and stocking up on some meals that could easily be unfrozen on nights neither of you were prepared to cook with a newborn.

Now it was all one long waiting game.

But maybe…it wouldn’t be too much longer after all.

“Oh,” you felt a sharp pain ripple through your belly and abdomen as you clutched the counter for a bit of support. The sensation felt odd and you definitely did not like it. But you also decided not to worry about it, trying to convince yourself that it was just a one time thing. After all, you were almost there in your pregnancy and lots of things could be happening. Yeah, looking back on it, you were definitely a fool.

After the initial pain had passed you went about your day, doing some laundry and making sure everything in the house was stocked up with what you'd need for at least several weeks. You’d done enough research, talked to enough mothers to know that you wouldn’t want to have to think about this for a while after having your baby. Unfortunately, the pains came again, but fortunately they were few and far between at this point. Nothing to worry about yet…

You finished up the last few things in the bathroom, when you felt the pain again, followed by what felt like a weird trickling feeling down your leg.

You looked down and noticed the wet spot on your leggings and let out a long sigh. You knew that you hadn’t just wet yourself so that could logically only mean one thing, “shit.”

This was what you had been waiting for…and yet you felt so incredibly unprepared for this moment. You weren’t ready to go into labor and have your baby girl just yet…you needed some time, just a little more…but unfortunately that was not how life worked.

“Camila,” you rubbed your belly gently as if talking to her would get her to stay inside just a little bit longer. You tried to hold back your tears, but it was an overwhelming moment and you were experiencing approximately a hundred emotions at once, “can you wait just a little bit longer? Daddy’s at work and I-I don’t want to bother him. Just maybe until tonight, okay? O-or tomorrow morning.”

It was stupid, you knew, to try and push this off as long as you could but there was no reason to panic. You reminded yourself that you weren't going to do anything until the contractions came every couple of minutes and lasted for at least a minute or more. That’s when you’d go to the hospital. It would all be fine…everything would be just fine. That was the mantra you kept repeating to yourself anyway.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time Steve came home that night, things had…progressed. You tried to play it off as much as you could, deciding you would tell him over dinner. You wanted him to have a chance to change and relax for a little before springing it on him. You were able to keep it together for a bit, until you felt the pain coming again and held onto the fridge handle so tightly he was surprised it didn’t break.

“Sweetheart,” he looked at you with wide, nervous eyes as you tried to smile through the pain. That was easier said than done; there was nothing but a grimace on your face, “what’s wrong? Are you - did you - contractions?”

“Mhmm,” you closed your eyes and tried to breathe through it, “‘s fine, Stevie.”

“How long have you been having them?” he tried to slowly pull your hand away so you could hold his, and wrapped the other around your waist, “angel. Can you tell me what’s been going on?”

“Earlier,” you confessed and he let out a long breath. Alright, well, that might not have been the best thing, but you were going to be okay. He would make sure of that, “started earlier and then my water broke.”

“Your water broke!?”

“Yeah,” you gave him a sheepish expression in a vain attempt to calm him down. You should have known better than that, “they’ve been far apart enough and it’s just now getting worse.”

“You’ve been having them for hours though and your water broke,” he sat down on the couch, running a hand anxiously through his dark hair, “why didn’t you call me? Sweetheart, I love how strong and independent you are, but I really wish you would have called. I would have come home already and you could have been at the hospital by now.”

“I didn’t wanna bother you,” tears glistened in your eyes, not at him or anything but the entirety of the situation. He crouched down so he was on your level and tenderly brushed them away, “didn’t want to bug you at work.”

“Honey,” his tone adopted a soft, fond tone. Ahh, yes, of course his sweet, clumsy girl didn’t want to bother him, “this would not have bugged me at all. You are the most important thing to me, and you are never a bother.”

“‘m sorry,” you blubbered, “I wanted her to come and now I wish she’d slow down. I’m scared. I’m not ready for her to be here, I’m not ready to be a mom! I can’t do this, Stevie.”

“Sweetheart,” he cooed softly, stroking your cheek, tenderly turning your face up to his, “it’s okay to be scared and nervous; that’s normal. I’m so nervous too, I’m scared to be a dad. But I know we’ll be okay - we won’t be perfect and we’ll fuck up sometimes, but that’s just part of life. We’re going to be okay, angel. This is just the last big thing we have to get through before we get to meet our daughter. And I know you’re going to get through this, you’re so strong and resilient, but it’s okay to be scared.”

“Will you stay with me?” you looked at him with the softest eyes and he chuckled fondly, “please?”

“You don’t have to ask,” he pressed soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks before stopping at your lips, “I’ll be right by your side the entire time.”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you promise it’ll be okay?” your lip trembled with effort as you tried to keep from completely crying.

“Pinky,” he held out his pinky finger to you, which caused a sniffy laugh to bubble up as you wrapped your finger around his, “just think - soon we’ll get to meet our sweet Camila.”

“I hope she looks like you,” you blurted out as he just laughed softly, “you’re so pretty.”

“Flatterer,” he teased, “I hope she looks like you; or both of us. Either way, we’re gonna have a very cute kid.”

You inhaled before slowly letting it all out, “okay. I-I think I’m ready.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you pouted, causing him to kiss it away until you were smiling again.

“I’m going to go and get your hospital bag and then we’ll go to the hospital,” he explained as you nodded, “I’ll be right there with you.”

“Okay,” you squeezed his hand tightly, “let’s do this then.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt unreal being at the hospital, hooked up to a bunch of monitors and listening to your baby’s heartbeat. The initial nerves were still there, but there was also the pain that came with labor that pretty much overshadowed that. Steve, luckily, had kept to his word and was at your side the entire, letting you hold his hand, even when he was pretty sure you were going to break it. But it didn’t matter; he would do anything for you.

He was also impressed in a weird way with how well you’d been able to handle your contractions throughout the day. By the time you were at the hospital and all settled in, it wasn’t long before you were ready to start pushing. And, despite your initial hesitancy and wanting to hold off on having a baby for a little while longer, you were more than happy to get going.

And then, after all the worries, fears, and tears, it all ended with a crying, but healthy, baby girl. It all felt like it happened so fast; from pushing and having her, to getting to hold her for the first, to watching Steve sit next to you with the small bundle in his arms. It felt like the most perfect site in the entire world; he was looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the entire world. He knew what love was; he’d know what it felt like to fall in love with you. But this was like he was falling in love all over again.

“I wish I had a camera,” you whispered softly, catching his attention as he looked up at you with a giant smile on his face. He scooted his chair as close as he could to your bed, making it so you could see her too, “she’s already got you wrapped around her finger.”

“Yeah,” he cooed softly at the sleeping baby, “she does. But so do you. I can’t believe we have a baby - we made her.”

“We did,” you held out your hand and ever so lightly brushed your knuckle over her cheek, “is it weird to already be so in love with her? It feels like we’ve always had her, always loved her.”

“It’s not weird at all,” he promised, leaning over to kiss you softly, “this is the second and a half best day of my life.”

“Steve,” you kept your laugh softly as you stroked his cheek, “what were the first two?”

“Meeting you and marrying you,” his eyes lit up happily, “besides - she wouldn’t have been possible without it.”

“It always comes down to the broken ankle,” you snorted in amusement, “but it’s like you always say, we would have met some other way; we were meant to be.”

“We were,” he beamed at you before looking back at his newborn daughter, “thank you for this. All of it.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” you insisted, stifling a yawn, “just remember that when it’s three in the morning and you’re on diaper duty.”

“I’ll complain but I’ll do it with love,” he promised, “I love you so much, my clumsy, stubborn, strong girl.”

“I love you,” you blinked away your tears, “both of you.”

“Yes,” he agreed gently, “we already love you so much, Cami girl.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery x you #nurse!steve

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theaawalker · 2 months

Text

Only Fools Fall in Love | Steddie Imagine

Pairing: Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson Song Inspo: Andrew by Ben Platt Word Count: 2,574 Summary: Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington. Neither of them want to address it for various reasons. They're just two idiots in love. Warnings: angst, slowburn Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

After defeating Vecna and barely escaping the upside down, Steve knew his life was never going to be the same again. He no longer had the pleasure of being blissfully unaware of the darkness that surrounded Hawkins. He knew about the creatures that lurked in the shadows. Knew how powerful they were and the amount of damage they had caused to their little town, how many lives were lost in the mix of creatures that were never supposed to exist.

They were supposed to be fiction, stories told to kids to keep them in their homes at certain times, to scare them into staying safe and not wondering into the forest alone at night. Unfortunately, those things were very real, too real for Steve's liking.

Some days he wished to be one of those dense high school kids who only cared about their reputation and didn't know what was happening in the world around them. He wished to be like the old Steve, the one who only cared about hooking up, parties and Nancy Wheeler. He loved her in a way he never thought he could love; she awakened something in him that he didn't know existed. Then she was ripped out of his life without even the slightest warning, she left him, she didn't love him. She said it was all bullshit. They were bullshit.

He knew now that she was right about it all, they were bullshit. Neither of them were ready or mature enough for a relationship, they were too different, too young and too foolish. Nancy was better with Jonathan, they had bonded over their trauma and Steve was jealous at first, but after seeing that massive smile on her face, he knew that she had exactly who she needed. It stung, seeing them together, they were everywhere he went, and he hated it. So, he went to parties and got piss drunk to forget and occasionally he stopped by that disgusting trailer park to buy from Eddie Munson.

Eddie "The Freak" Munson was the best dealer in town, he always had a fixed supply unlike some of the other idiots who couldn't keep up with the demand. Steve didn't necessarily like Eddie that much, he was too loud, too dramatic, too all over the place and too different. He was what Steve never could be, unapologetically different.

He never apologized for being who he was, he never cared what anyone thought or said about him. In fact, he played into it, he wore the term 'Freak' like a badge of honor and used it to scare off any potential threats. It worked most of the time, while people found him annoying, they never did anything to psychically stop him.

That irritated Steve even more. Eddie got away with being himself. Steve wished he could just exist without the fear of getting judged or trampled on. So, he worked his way up the high school ranks and became King Steve, someone everybody wanted to be or be with. None of it was true though, he was never a king. He was never any of the things they made him out to be, well except a douche. He was definitely a douche.

So now, two years after graduating high school, he had finally accepted that life was never going to be easy for him. He would never get to be his true self in front of everyone, he would never get to show the real Steve to all of Hawkins. He'd probably get beaten up or killed for it to be fair.

"Hey dingus" Robin's voice broke through his train of thought, "stop staring into space, we've got customers to attend to."

He shot her a glare before turning to the customer at the register who was returning some of the tapes she rented. His face softened when he saw the girl staring at him nervously.

"Sorry about that," he stated, "will you be renting anything else today, or just returning?"

The girl shrugged, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger, "I haven't decided yet, I still have to have a look. Any suggestions?"

"Uh... Fire With Fire seems to be a hit right now, it's in the romance section"

"Are you into romance?" She asked in what he assumed was supposed to be a flirty voice.

He shrugged, "not really. I just watch whatever, but I've heard it's a good movie." He turned to Robin and smirked, "Rob and I are actually going to watch it together tonight."

A deep red blush covered the girl's cheeks at the thought of flirting with a taken man, "I'm so sorry, I have no idea."

Steve waved her off, "it's okay, happens to the best of us."

Robin scowled at him as the customer scurried away after deciding that she definitely wasn't going to rent Fire With Fire now. She thanked them and nearly ran out of the store.

"Really Steve. Using me as your repellant. Usually, you manage to get rid of the girls just be being yourself." she teased before going to the back and adding another strike under the 'You Suck' column.

Steve sat on the counter and watched her return from the break room, he wanted to tell her the truth, but he has been struggling to get the words out for the last year. It was scary being open like this, having someone know everything about you was terrifying and he didn't want it to change anything between them. She was his best friend and he loved her. He didn't want this stupid shit to come between them, he didn't want to lose the one person who understood him the best.

Losing Nancy was hard but losing Robin would probably kill him, she was his biggest support and he truly appreciated and cherished their friendship. What started out as a stupid crush on his coworker quickly turned into the most meaningful friendship he has ever had. The possibility of losing that scared him more than the monsters they faced over the last three years.

"Steve. Seriously what's up?" Robin spoke up again, a concerned look on her face, "you've been spacing out all day and you keep getting this look on your face that looks like you want to do something stupid and it's freaking me out. Are you okay? Is it Vecna? Is he still alive? Is it me? Oh god. Did I do something to make you hate me and now you want to quit your job and move away and never see me again. You've probably already packed to leave and now you're trying to think of a way to break it to m–"

"Robin, breathe. God. I'm not going anywhere" he cut her off, "I've just got a lot on my mind, and it doesn't have anything to do with Vecna or the upside down or any of that crazy shit. I'm just trying to figure out a few things."

She nodded "sorry. I got a little carried away."

They shared a laugh before going silent again, a comfortable air settling between them as they got back to work. It was a relatively quiet day in Family Video, so they didn't really do much and soon their shift came to an end and Steve got ready to lock up while Robin waited in his car.

"Hey Harrington, fancy seeing you here" he heard a familiar voice pipe up behind him.

"I work here Eddie" he said flatly.

Eddie tsked, "I'm well aware of that Stevie, I was just being courteous."

"Stevie?" He questioned.

He and Munson became kind of friends after the whole Upside Down incident. Watching Eddie nearly bleed to death made him realize that he came to like Eddie in the short time they spent together. He learnt a lot about the guy while running away from Vecna and the enraged townspeople who believed that Eddie was a satanic murderer.

The stakes were high but somehow Eddie always managed to inject humor into every situation to make it feel a lot less intense. He had a way of making people comfortable around him, of making them feel at ease. It was surprising yet welcomed at the time and watching him so close to death made the entire gang realize how much Eddie Munson truly meant to them.

He was one of them now, a part of the club, a trusted member. So, it wasn't weird for him to be here, speaking to Steve.

"Well Stevie, I figured since we escaped death together and kicked Vecna's tentacle ass we're basically friends now. There's nothing wrong with giving your friend a nickname now is there, Steve? "

Eddie had that wide eyed look on his face, the one that made Steve squirm in place, his stare was always intense. Steve felt as if he was staring into his soul, trying to unravel every dark secret locked up inside of him. Yet the casual smile on his face said the opposite, it contradicted his beady eyes in the best way possible. The perfect balance of intense and soft, which was exactly how Steve would describe Eddie.

He cleared his throat, trying his best to ignore the slight warmth in his cheeks, "uh. Sure. Yeah. Stevie... I like it"

Eddie chuckled at his flustered state, "I actually came by to invite you and Robin to a movie night at my place. Tomorrow at 7, don't be late Harrington."

Steve watched him walk off without waiting for a response, and while he tried to mill over everything Eddie said, he only managed to get stuck on the fact that Eddie referred to him as 'Harrington' again. He wasn't sure why it upset him that much, it was his surname after all, but after being called Stevie, hearing his last name out of Eddie's lips no longer sounded right.

He wanted to be called Stevie. He wanted Eddie to call him Stevie every day, because the way he said it made his stomach do the slightest flip. The way he drawled it out in that raspy voice of his, made it sound so much better than it would sound if anyone else said it. He wanted to be Eddie's Stevie.

That thought stumped him, because he had never thought of another guy like that. He never felt that happy to hear a guy give him a nickname. But to be fair, Eddie Munson wasn't just another guy. He was different. Special.

Tuesday came rolling around and Steve was on edge the entire day, he had hung out with Eddie before, but this somehow felt different. So much so that he was nervous and jittery the entire day and Robin teased him about it at every chance she got.

"It's just a movie, Steve, why are you freaking out?" She questioned, "We hung out with Eddie before, and you always enjoyed it. You know better than anyone else, that he's not what the town makes him out to be."

"I know that, Rob. That's not the issue, it's just different this time and I don't know how to explain it. Like it's been a year since all that crazy shit happened and I'm still adjusting to having Eddie around more."

"Do you not want to hang out with him anymore?" she moved around the store sorting tapes while they spoke.

"No!" he said louder than he meant to. "No... I like hanging out with Eddie, he's fun. It just feels different. I don't know how to explain it."

"Well, you have all the time in the world to figure it out. Now that the world isn't ending anymore you can think about whatever it is you're feeling and deal with it when you're ready."

He nodded; she was right. There was no rush to figure his stupid thoughts out, all he had to do was get through tonight. He was nervous for some reason and kept wondering who would be there, would Eddie have invited Nancy and Jonathan as well?

He didn't know if he wanted an answer to that question right now. Being unaware was a blessing in certain situations.

Steve stepped into Eddie's new trailer and settled down beside Robin, a smile plastered on his face as he turned to Nancy and Jonathan who were squeezed together on a love seat. The government helped clear Eddie's name and gave him and his uncle a brand-new trailer in a more reserved side of town. It was bigger and it was fully furnished so it quickly became their hang out when they wanted to escape reality for a bit.

Steve raised a brow at Robin when Vickie made her way into the trailer after them.

"Did you know she was coming?"

Robin leaned closer and whispered her response, "yeah. I invited her. Hope you don't mind?"

Steve shrugged, "of course I don't mind. I'm glad you finally upped your game, Rob." He teased.

"Shut up. You can't even get a date." She bit back, motioning for him to scoot over so Vickie could squeeze in the seat beside her.

Eddie came back into the room with beers for everyone and a few rolled up joints, he passed the beers around and sat next to Steve.

"Hope you don't mind our medicinal addition, it helps mellow us out a bit" he said to Vickie, a charming smile on his face.

Steve felt a tinge of jealousy shoot up within him when Vickie giggled and told him she didn't mind at all. It was stupid of him to get jealous over something that simple, but he managed to convince himself that he was only pissed because Eddie shouldn't be putting moves on Robin's date.

Eddie noticed the look on Steve's face, his brows all scrunched and the slightest pout to his lips. He looked adorable, like an angry kitten, Eddie wanted to kiss that stupid little pout away.

He always had a slight crush on Steve "The Hair" Harrington. Who didn't? Steve was hot, with his perfect hair, those big brown eyes, that amazingly toned body and that gorgeous smile that he flashed Eddie with whenever Eddie teased him too much. Steve was perfect and Eddie struggled daily to keep his feelings in check. He didn't want their blossoming friendship to fall apart simply because he couldn't keep it in his pants. Plus falling for straight men was a big no in the Munson doctrine so he had to stick to his rules and keep whatever playful banter they had going on extremely platonic.

Although a little teasing never hurt and seeing Steve blush was always worth it, so he leaned forward and whispered, "Is that jealousy I'm detecting? Wipe that pout off your face. Vickie's got nothing on you, big boy."

Steve felt his face heat up and bit back the smile that threatened to pull at his lips. His stomach did an entire back flip at the tone of Eddie's voice. The hairs on his neck stood up as his breath hit his skin. His entire body went rigid as the words big boy slipped out of Eddie's mouth again. This was the first time Eddie had said it since the upside down and somehow it felt more intense now, it felt different.

Eddie Munson would be the death of him and based off the smug smirk on his face, he definitely knew what he was doing.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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hawkinsquarry · 1 year

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For steve, Jealousy

Steve’s jaw aches. He’s been clenching his teeth for the past hour while you socialize with your friends. And he really does hate himself for it - how jealous he gets just because you’re laughing at some other guy’s jokes. Makes him think he isn’t funny enough, like he doesn’t deserve your attention. He’s trying so hard to remind himself that it doesn’t work like that, and he knows it’s true. He knows he’s the one you go home to at the end of the day. He’s the one who gets to hold you and take you on dates and he gets to see your smile much more often.

But, man, if he isn’t seeing red.

Steve doesn’t know how much longer he can take watching your friend touch your arm and how you lean into him when he jokes. He knows you do it with everyone, but he wants it to only be him.

And he feels like total shit when you finally pick up on his behavior, his body language. He knows he looks bitchy with his arms and legs crossed but he really can’t help it. Well, maybe he could - but he’s really getting agitated and it’s harder for him to calm down.

“Wanna get goin’?” you ask quietly, the rest of the group talking.

“Please.” He’s a little softer now with your pretty eyes on him.

That prick that’s been the bane of Steve’s existence gives you a long hug as you’re saying goodbye and it makes Steve’s fists clench, too. Not that he’d ever. He unfortunately knows his chances and he’s really not a violent kind of guy. He just wants to get out of here.

You’re walking back to his car when you call him out. “You don’t have to get jealous like that, you know.”

Steve sighs, long and defeated. “I know,” he says, turning to you. “But-“

“I know,” you repeat softly, resting your hand on his chest. He takes a deep breath, your touch helping him feel grounded. “You know you’re my world, right? I love you more than anything.”

“Really?” he asks, like he doesn’t know it. Because, really, it’s hard for him to remember. When you’re so gorgeous and funny - why would you choose him to love? No one else would.

“Of course,” you answer, furrowing your brows. You’re hurt, and he wants to make it better. “Steve, I’m not just fooling around with you. I really - I really like you. I love you. You’re my best friend and I wouldn’t let anything get between that.”

Steve nods. “I know.”

“But you forget,” you say sympathetically. Like you can read his mind.

He nods again, hair falling in his eyes as he looks down at your shoelaces.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Let’s get home so I can remind you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, and he really likes the way your fingers feel between his as you hold his hand, guiding him to the car.

#han posts #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #thank you for ur request!!

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morganski-19 · 19 days

Text

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 17: Repair

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 16

March 1986

The news has been replaying the same story all day. It should be shocking, sort of is, but Julie’s kind of numb to it at this point. Each year, like clockwork, something big happens. Something this small town hasn’t faced in decades. A kid missing, turned up dead, just to be found alive again. A government laboratory had a gas leak that caused the death of many more people. The mall catches on fire causing a mass casualty. Now this.

She was awoken by sirens this morning. Ruined what was supposed to be a day where she slept till noon. It was spring break; she was allowed to be lazy. But instead, the spring break was wrapped up by police tape. The cause of a whole new type of stress.

Beloved student of Hawkins High School, Crissy Cunningham, found dead in the Munson’s trailer. Eddie Munson, the prime suspect, still at large. The body, found by Wayne Munson, a hard-working man of the community, is disfigured beyond belief. The police don’t have enough evidence to make a statement. But are advising the public to be aware and alert the police of any suspicious behavior.

Julie doesn’t know Eddie that well. They’ve only been neighbors, acquaintances. Sure, he drove her to school a few times. Made sure that she got there safely and was an ear when she needed to rant. But that didn’t make them friends. That didn’t make them close.

It didn’t take an idiot to see that Eddie wasn’t as big as scary as he was chalked up to see. Unfortunately, this town was full of idiots. Ready to point their fingers to the person the papers blame. Since they were already so influenced that metal music was from the devil and all dungeons and dragon’s players were Satan worshippers. It only took one headline for them to believe that. What’s stopping them from believing it now?

The evidence is damning. Wayne worked last night so it can’t be him. Multiple witnesses saw Chrissy leave with Eddie after the game last night. He is a known drug dealer, which most people would say is a step away from murder. His van was heard by the entire trailer park at both their entrance and his exit.

But there was one thing that Julie’s not sure anyone really heard. His screams.

Trailer parks are a hive for nosy neighbors fueled by the powers of thin walls. Lots of open air for noise to travel. It was nice outside last night, so Julie sat out on their little porch with a book. Peacefully reading.

Until Eddie pulled up with music blaring out the windows. Slamming on the breaks before he crashes straight into his own trailer. Right before the queen herself gets out of the car and walks right through his front door.

Julie says she’s better than gossip, but this she just had to know. Had to witness. Two people who never interact, going into an empty trailer. A recipe for disaster.

And disaster it was. Not long after, Julie can hear some yelling from the trailer. Something about waking up. Chrissy not being able to hear Eddie. It just increasing in volume until it devolves into a terrified scream. Then Eddie runs out of his trailer, gets into his van, and speeds away.

Julie doesn’t know a lot about how murderers act, but she can guess they don’t normally scream while killing their victims. That’s a pretty obvious sign that something’s wrong. But the police just brush her off when she tells them. The arrest has already written itself.

. . .

Present Day, April 1987

It’s been almost two full weeks since Steve and Julie moved into the new house, and Steve still feels off about it all. About taking the next step in the case. Passing the point of no return.

Steve doesn’t know what to do. It’s like he’s being backing into a corner. On the one hand, he could drop this and make himself a fool to his parents, to his friends, probably a good bit of the town. Or he can go through with it just to drag up his baggage all over again. Feel like shit all over again.

He doesn’t know what to do.

Then there’s all the other stuff. The looming piles of bills in his future, the fact that they still don’t have a couch. That Steve still doesn’t have a proper mattress. And the fridge is getting kind of empty, so he needs to go shopping soon.

These are new worries for him. Making a strict budget and making sure it’s enforced. Saying no to the kids when they want something, forcing Robin and Eddie to pay their share of the meals when they go out. Even though it was really always him ensuring he was alright paying the bill. Making small stacks of coupons and waiting deals to show up in the paper. It’s a lot.

Steve’s never been poor before. Not to say that he is now. Well, he kind of is. He has a good bit of debt because of this loan and lost a large chunk, most, of his savings to buying this house and the initial furniture. Paychecks are split between bills, food, Julie, savings, and then him. He’s the last on his list of priorities.

It’s all bringing up more issues, as if it already wasn’t enough. He’s always been the friend that picks up everyone’s tab. Pays for the check, the parties, the supplies, the fancy gifts. It’s all been from his money. His dad’s money. Which he doesn’t have anymore.

He knows it’s stupid to think that the friends he has now would care about that. Just because his old friends definitely would have. But these guys, they care more about the money. About the name. What Steve can give them.

Sometimes, it just doesn’t feel like it.

Steve’s always been a giver. It felt wrong to keep what he had just to himself. He never took, just gave. What would he be when there was nothing left to give?

Julie shuts the door just a hair away from a slam when she gets home. Giving her bedroom door a harsher treatment. It squeaks all the way shut. He’s been meaning to fix that, hasn’t gotten around to it yet.

She’s been like this ever since they moved. Her demeanor shifting almost immediately. At first, he chalked it up to the stress, having a new place that didn’t feel right. The change uncomfortably itching beneath the skin.

But after a week went by and it was the same thing every day, he knew something was up.

He walks over to her door, knocking lightly.

“What,” Julie yells through the door.

Steve’s taken aback. “How was school?” he asks calmly.

She whips the door open. “Fine,” she huffs. “That all?”

“You ok?” he asks as if the question didn’t answer itself already.

“Yeah,” Julie rolls her eyes. “I’m fine.”

Steve crosses his arms. “You sure? Cause to me it seems like you’re upset about something. You know you can talk to me about this stuff.”

“Whatever.” Julie slams the door in his face.

It takes all Steve has to not rip the door open and give a whole lecture on how rude that was. To restrain himself from stepping into old shoes. To react differently than his father would have. Come back when the moment dies down and the anger stops bubbling. To be better. To be him.

Whatever he is at the moment.

. . .

Julie tears another piece of paper out of her notebook. Crumpling it in her hands and throwing it across the room, watching it miss the trashcan. Landing next to the other balls of paper. Each one being more wrong than the last.

She should be doing homework. There’s an essay due for her English class in a few days and she hasn’t gotten around to writing it. Too busy with the move, then the adjusting. Now this. The same thoughts over and over again in her mind. All of them screaming that this can’t be happening right now.

Every time Julie thinks she can have any sort of break, another thing comes along just to punch her down again. Her mom died, then she moved, then she moved again, then she started getting better but that’s this whole other thing, then she gets kicked out, moves again. Now she has a crush on one of her best friends. What a great fucking life this is.

Julie tugs at the roots of her hair, pushing her fingers under the tightness of her braid. Hoping if she squeezes long enough, the unwanted thoughts will just leave. She’ll be able to think of a theme in the Catcher in the Rye that speaks to her enough to get five pages out of. Be able to write enough in her stupid notebook that makes sense. Get her grades back to where they were before and her life back together again.

Falling apart is a tune run dry and Julie’s tired of playing it. All she wants to do is go back to being normal. Like she was a year ago. Happy, kinda pissed at the world in different ways, but happy. Where there was something that didn’t quite make sense with the way she felt about girls, but it was easy to brush it all off. And her mom came home smelling like syrup and bacon grease instead of alcohol. Her knew sobriety chip kept proudly in the pocket of her apron. Constantly reminding her what the tips really needed to be spent on.

Life was good. It was normal. It was everything. Julie misses everything.

She misses the way the house always smelled a little stale and like mildew. The flowery candle her mom burned doing nothing to cover it up. She misses the way she would trip on the pile of shoes by the door. And how the singular hook on the wall would always drop her coat so much she started to throw it over a chair. How the kitchen would always be a little bit messy, and there would be dishes in the sink and pots on the stove. The couch that had it’s built in divot made by someone else with cushions that were squished beyond compare. Doors that fell off hinges every year or so and the sounds of the radio flowing through the walls.

All of it aches in her heart the more she moves on. The more she grows away from the place she called home. Having to keep retracing it all in her mind so she won’t forget it. Hold her mom’s sweatshirt close to her nose and pray to smell her cheap perfume again. But all that’s there is Julie. All there is left is Julie.

Julie is the only thing left of her mom other than the picture sitting on her desk. Which sucks for so many reasons she can’t find the words to explain. Mainly because looking in the mirror gets harder. Each time looking a little less like herself than the day before. Not quite knowing who she is anymore.

Reflections almost heighten to the imperfections on Julie’s face. The darkness underneath her eyes, the red dots forming on her chin and forehead. The fakeness of her smile, the way it can’t seem to reach her eyes quite right. Growing into a face that lost its childhood. Fighting to keep all she can of what’s left.

Growing up was always going to be hard. Slowly seeing herself morph away from childhood dreams and expectations. Having them crushed by the cruel realities of the world. Having memories trapped in confines of the mind that can’t seem to be open again. Becoming someone is hard in a normal life, let alone one with as many hurdles as Julie’s.

Julie can’t even begin to fathom what she would say to herself half a year ago, five years ago. How could she crush that little girl’s dreams right before her eyes. Witnessing the pain from the outside rather than the in. Tell her that there would be no princess wedding, or even one at all. That her mom wouldn’t even be there if she could. Gone far too soon. She left Julie far too soon.

Childhood isn’t missed until it’s stripped away. Until it can never return. For what its worst, Julie’s mom made sure she had it for as long as possible. Before the inevitable kicked in and took it away for her.

Now Julie’s filled with hate again. At herself. At Steve for trying. At him for not being who she wants on the other side of the door. A constant reminder that this good thing could only come once her mom was gone. Finally, a house, but without the mother to make it a home.

It’s not fair to blame him, she knows that. Can hear the upcoming words of her therapist as she relays this all to him in the next session. How she’s placing Steve in a box that he was never meant to fill. Just because the emptiness was too crushing to face in whole.

Giving up on the homework, Julie lies on her bed. The new mattress smell still seeping through the covers. She takes her Walkman and presses play on whatever’s in there. Noise blasting through her ears, loud enough to hopefully cover these thoughts. She grabs a pillow, wanting to squeeze something close to her chest. All of her childhood stuffed animals gone with the first move. Another piece of her that is forever lost.

The tears start to form, and Julie lets them fall.

. . .

The next day doesn’t seem to be any better. She insists on biking to school today. Doesn’t really make it a choice as she hoes straight from her room to the door. Without saying as much as a goodbye.

Steve doesn’t push. Thinks it would be best after the outburst yesterday.

The last time Julie acted like this was her mom’s birthday. Where she was hurting so bad that she decided to hit at the closest target. If that’s what she needs to do again, he’d be happy to take it all. Hold some of the hurt so she didn’t have too anymore. Distract him from his own hurt at the moment.

It’s so bad that she forgets her lunch on the counter. Even though it would probably have ended in the garbage. Like how last night’s dinner landed right into a container to be revisited later. Still sitting in the fridge when Steve went to make breakfast this morning.

He’s not quite sure the last time she’s eaten more than half her plate. Too busy with his own stuff to notice her dip back in her progress. Kicking himself that he didn’t see it all sooner. That it took for her slamming a door in his face to understand how bad it had really gotten. Not like he could have stopped it. But it might have helped.

“That conversation you had with Julie while me and Eddie were out getting the pizza,” Steve says while explaining the situation to Robin. “Was that about her mom? About the move?”

Robin takes a second to think. Physically stopping and starting her movements a few times before speaking. “No, it was about something else.”

Something else. Steve didn’t know about a something else. “Was it because of me?”

“No, no. It was just something really private that she wanted to talk to me about. I would tell you but it’s really not my place to.”

Steve ignores the alarm bell ringing in his head. She’ll tell him about it, whatever it is, when she’s ready. “But you would if you thought it had anything to do with the way she’s acting.”

Robin shrugs. “It depends. If I thought, it would help. But honestly,” she takes a deep breath. “I think telling you about it might make it a million times worse.”

“Make what a million times worse?” Eddie asks after walking in. Sliding into his designated spot at Steve’s side and placing a kiss to the side of his head.

Robin rolls her eyes. “You guys can’t be this happy while Nancy’s away at school.”

“Oh boohoo.” Eddie sticks out his tongue.

“I thought you had work today?” Steve asks Eddie.

He shrugs. “I’m sick.”

“You’re going to be jobless if you keep calling out for no damn reason,” Robin chastises.

“Well clearly, I was needed elsewhere because there is a situation that needs dealing with. Make what worse? By a million times?”

Robin rolls her eyes again, gesturing Steve to fill Eddie in on the situation.

“Julie’s hitting a low point again, she slammed a door in my face yesterday.”

“Do you think it’s about her mom?” Eddie gets a soda out of the fridge and sits on the countertop.

It could be. One of the first things Julie said when she saw the house was how it reminded her or her mom. How a place like this was all her mom ever wanted for the two of them. That had to drag up some feelings. Especially since they were now living here.

Steve shrugs. “It could be. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.”

But there was something else. Either the thing she talked about with Robin or him pushing yesterday. Something going on in school. Anything.

There were so many places to mess up. For Steve to fuck up something that didn’t just involve him. He’s bad at dealing with things. Pretending his problems don’t exist so he doesn’t have to think about them. Or lashing out just to feel more powerful than them.

Steve just didn’t want Julie to feel like she had to keep it in. That she had to keep the war in her mind because no one cared enough to listen. Or that she would burden him just for talking to him about it. He wanted her to be better than himself. Maybe that was too high of an expectation to have.

“Just talk to her about it,” Robin says softly. “She’s always come around to telling you how she feels. She just needed to blow off a little steam, that’s all.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Maybe was a lot of things right now. None of them made Steve feel any better.

“Hey,” Eddie kicks Steve gently. “What’s really going on? Other than the Julie thing?”

“It’d be easier to say what isn’t going on than what is?” Steve pulls out one of the metal folding chairs from their makeshift kitchen/dining table and sits down. It squeaks under his weight, proving his point for him. “Maybe I bit off more than I can chew.”

Robin pulls out the chair next to him. “You did what you had to. It just happened to be very overwhelming.”

“I’m not talking about that. Well, I am but not really. It’s just,” Steve takes a deep breath. “This case. If I’m still going through with it. It’s just adding more to the pile and I’m now realizing I didn’t really think it through as much as I should’ve.”

“What do you mean,” Eddie interrupts. “You seemed liked you thought it over a lot, actually. Had evidence all laid out, contacted people, got witness statements. People to testify. Had multiple people who know their shit tell you that this was a good case. You checked off all the boxes.”

“Yeah, sure. But I don’t think I’d realized at the time that I might be going to court twice in a short amount of time.”

Steve asked Sarah a few weeks ago what it would take to make him the permanent guardian for Julie. Maybe even adopting her. If that’s what she wanted, he hasn’t brought that specifically up yet. Sarah mentioned something about permanent guardianship, since Julie’s only a year away from becoming an adult.

But no matter what, it probably leads to presenting his case before a judge. Having them make the final decision. With all the things that have happened in the past few weeks, and Sarah pulling some strings she shouldn’t have, the risk of relocation raised a bit. Making this permanent would get rid of the risk. Neither of them would have to worry about this anymore.

“Wait, twice,” Robin questions.

“Yeah, once for this case against my parents, twice to get permanent custody of Julie.”

“Is that something you guys have talked about?”

Steve shrugs. “A bit. She definitely wants to stay with me long term, and I said I’d start asking about the options. I just haven’t talked to her about which one she would prefer, since she’s got less than a year before she turns eighteen. Most of them involve at least going in front of a judge to prove that I have the means to care for her until she’s an adult.”

“And if this case falls through, it might look bad on you,” Eddie connects the dots.

“Exactly. And I’ll have to pay all the legal fees out of my own pocket where I would have gotten that back from the money I won.”

Then there was the reason for doing this all in the first place, getting them to understand what they did to him. How he was affected because of their neglect. Would they even listen? Would this change anything? Would this all just become another story to tell their friends?

They would go around telling their friends how much of a disappointment he is. How he is ungrateful of everything they’ve done for him. How he wouldn’t even be here without them. As if that makes up for the fact that they were never around.

Creating someone doesn’t immediately garner respect. It still has to be earned. Each time he was left, his respect, his love for his parents shrunk. Now all that is left is a sliver so small, yet it still feels like a mountain. Still crushing him.

He doesn’t want to be crushed by it anymore.

Steve gets up, goes to his room and pulls out all of the evidence he’s built. The entire case against his parents laid in a binder. Copies of bank and credit card statements. Highlighted lines of hotel stays and flights books. Lined up with dates that Steve could recall they missed. Birthdays and holidays lost. Memories begged to be made. Years gone.

Statements of the many nannies that he had. Each confirming their own payments, the lengths of their stays. Empty cards filled with not even the signature of their names. Cursive congratulations and happy birthdays printed instead. Hospital records that show his own signature on the discharge form. Mrs. Henderson’s name on the contact form since his parents couldn’t care to show up.

It was enough, it had to be.

He brings it out to the kitchen, laying it all out on the table. Asking Robin and Eddie to go through it. Tell him if they think it would be enough.

Witnesses, one of them asks. Steve could think of a few. One of the nannies had offered when he asked. She would still do it. Hopper said he would not only be a character witness, but also get the records for that one house party he broke up where Steve was caught underage drinking. How he had to drive him home, his parents nowhere to be seen. Nancy probably would too. She could tell the courts how she knew his parents were never home, even if he was seventeen.

It is enough.

Eddie grabs Steve’s hand. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Robin grabs his other hand. “If this would be too much, no one would blame you for walking away.”

Here in this small kitchen with old cabinets with squeaky hinges and tile that he absolutely hates. In a house that he bought on his own, for the family that he made, it’s finally starting to feel like a home.

The walls were never what made it empty. The unopened rooms and unused furniture. It was the energy that never flowed through the doors that made it devoid of all life. Sucking what it could from the person in it to make up for the loss. Now, as people come and go, as Steve and Julie live here, the house feels full.

With these people by his side that showed up by surprise. Chose him for whatever reason that he might never understand. But circumstances led them to each other, and they don’t leave. Even when he tried. Gave them the opportunity to. Yet, they stayed. Every. Single. Time. They helped him learn what home should feel like.

Steve is enough. He always was.

“I want to do this,” Steve says without a doubt in his voice. “Even if they still won’t believe it, or be pissed at me for the rest of their life. I want to show up to the court with rows of people behind me, while their side is empty. Show them the real thing they lost was me.”

. . .

When Julie gets home, she goes right to her room. Ignoring the happy mood Steve is in. Ignores the fact that she saw Eddie’s van drive down the street as she was biking home from school. Ignores the slight rumbles in her stomach and the ache in her legs. Lets her body fall limp onto her bed after her bag slips off her shoulder. Filled with work that won’t get done. Marked with a big red “F” when she turns them in blank.

Just adding on to how Julie is already feeling.

What would her mom say to her? Her daughter’s grade dipping. Another new home. Not eating. Slamming doors in the face of the one person who was beside her during all of this.

Liking girls.

She would pull some of her mom wisdom out of her ass for some of it. Not really helping or making much sense, but it worked out in the end. Julie always ended up figuring out something. Got better after some time and picked herself up again. Kept moving.

Time just keeps moving. It’s endless and doesn’t stop. Forcing all to move along with it. Whether they want to or not. Even when life gets in the way and forces them to stop. To become stuck. Julie feels stuck again. Did for a long time. It was easy to become stuck when there was security blanketed around her.

Julie doesn’t really feel like time moved as fast as it did. How it was six months, almost seven since her mom died. And Julie still feels like it was yesterday sometimes. Especially right now. Transported back to the day the police officers knocked on her door. Took her away. When she was frozen, but kept moving. Had to keep moving.

She doesn’t have to keep moving anymore. There’s no goal anymore. No checkmark in her progress or hurdle she has to jump over. Just a pile of tasks that are too overwhelming to acknowledge or unpack. So she lets them pile up. They aren’t important right now.

Julie winces when she tugs off a scab on her thumb. Starting the bleeding all over again. With a deep breath, she forces herself off the bed and to the bathroom. Digging for the first aid kit under the sink for another band aid. Ignoring her reflection in the mirror. The greasy strands of hair pulled back into a French braid. The dark circles around her eyes. That person isn’t her anymore.

Julie isn’t Julie right now. She’s something else. Unrecognizable. To herself. To her mom. To anyone.

“Hey, Julie,” Steve says before she can escape back to her room.

She takes another deep breath, ready to push him away again. Not ready for a talk. “What?” she asks, too tired to even sound pissed.

Steve holds out the phone. “Phone for you.”

Julie presses her lips together, taking the phone and holding it closer to her ear. Curling around herself. “Hello.”

“Julie, it is me, El.”

Great. “Hey, El. What’s up?” Julie tries to feign excitement. Terrified at the brief flutter of her heart that spawned by the sound of El’s voice.

“I realized I never got around to asking you this at lunch, but are you free next Friday?”

“Uh, I think so. I’ll have to double check.” No, she won’t. She doesn’t have anything going on, just wants to seem like she does.

“Would you like to come over for a sleepover? I know we just kind of had one, but I want a better one. And then Max can be there too.”

Julie doesn’t want a sleepover. Well, she does, but not one with Max. Because it would be Max and El on the bed. Because why would they make the girl in the wheelchair with chronic pain sleep on the air mattress on the floor. That’s rude and stupid. And it’s El’s room, so she would also be in the bed.

Meaning that Julie would be alone on the floor while her two friends share a bed. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem. Normally she wouldn’t care. But now she does. Because she knows what it’s like to sleep in the same bed as El and the midnight talks that are kind of really serious but also really nice. The nervousness that creeps under her skin every time El’s eyes meet hers. The pounding of her heart as she tries to get a singular word out.

But she can’t say no. Can’t see the disappointment in El’s face or hear it in her voice. Would rather be there, suffering in silence, than miss out on time with her friends. Which she would enjoy for a majority of it, and could kind of need right now.

“Sure,” Julie says. “If I’m free and everything.”

She wishes she sounded more excited, but she can’t.

“Yay. Let me know as soon as possible if you are free. I will see you at school tomorrow.”

Julie’s slight smile drops. “Yeah, tomorrow. Talk to you later.”

The phone clicks onto the receiver as tears start to spring to Julie’s eyes. For reasons she doesn’t really know why but feels deep inside her chest. A pain she’s never felt. Crushing. Terrifying. A tear rolls down her cheek as she runs to her room, wiping it away quickly so Steve doesn’t see.

But he sees.

“Hey, are you ok?” he asks as Julie crosses into her bedroom.

“Just leave me alone,” she yells with a sob, slamming her door. Right in his worried face.

She can’t even make it to her bed before she falls. Slamming her back into the door and pulling her knees close to her chest. Wet patches forming on her knees. Breathing in stutter breaths just to let them out as broken sobs. Trying to pull herself together. Trying to keep it quiet. Knowing Steve is right behind the door, wondering what he can do.

What Julie’s feeling can’t be fixed. No matter what she tries. No matter how hard she tries. She can’t be normal anymore.

A slip of paper gets slid under the door next to her. After the sobs start to slow and Julie can see things again. She picks it up, unfolding it.

When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.

All it does is start Julie’s sobs again. How could she have been so lucky to have someone so understanding waiting for her outside the door? When her life went to shit. When things just keep going to shit. He’s still there. Even when she slams doors in his face and uprooted his entire life.

Without even blinking, he’s still there.

“Steve,” she says to her empty room when the tears slow. Hoping he can hear.

“Yeah,” the answer comes from the other side of the door.

Julie lets out a wet laugh. “When you said you were waiting, I didn’t think it’d be right outside the door.”

“Well, technically, it’s right next to your door. Only since I slid the note, though. I gave you space for a bit.”

Her knees fall to the ground, hands falling in her lap. Resuming the picking of her unbandaged thumb. “I appreciate that.”

A beat of silence. “You’re talking to me again. Does that mean you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure.” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m not sure how to talk about it.”

“That’s ok. Do you want to wait to talk about it, see if you can find the words later?”

Her head gently bangs against the door. Mind racing to find the words. To say something so he can find the solution for her and the pain can go away. But it all leads to a question so unfathomable that she can’t even bear to ask it. Gets mad at herself for even thinking about it.

She does though. Over and over again. Her mind finding answers she doesn’t like. Doesn’t want to believe were a possibility. Truth is, she will never have an answer to that question. No matter how hard she searches for one. The one person who can give it isn’t here anymore. Leaving an uncertainty that would weigh over her head forever.

“I’m sorry,” Julie says instead. Apologizing for the things she can instead of searching for what she can’t. “For slamming the door in your face.”

“You can slam the door in my face as many times as you need to. Just as long as you agree to talk to me about it, when you’re ready to. I may not always follow my own rules, but it’s better to talk about things before they start to build up.”

Julie wipes away the stray tear rolling down her cheek. Moving to pick at the strands of her jeans so she doesn’t need another band aid. “I think this has been building up for a while now. I just didn’t know it was there.”

There’s silence across the door for a minute or two.

“You know what I kind of really want right now, chocolate chip cookies,” Steve says suddenly.

It’s so random that is makes Julie laugh. “What?”

“Yeah, you know, freshly made, warm chocolate chip cookies. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Julie smiles. “That actually does sound kind of nice.”

“Great. I’m going to go make some, you can join me if you want.”

She does kind of want to. After taking a deep breath, Julie picks herself off the floor. Wincing at the soreness of her legs from sitting on rough carpet for so long. Opens the door and heads to the kitchen. Steve is pulling out one of the many cookbooks he stole from his parents and turning to a recipe. Starting to grab the different ingredients.

He smiles when Julie searches their cabinets, searching for the mixing bowl they also stole from his parents. Probably thinking he’s had some sort of victory over this. Maybe he has. She’s out of the room, and probably about to eat something. It’s a small victory for the both of them.

The oven takes an eternity to preheat. Leaving the rolled-out cookies on the stovetop. Some of them mysteriously gone missing. Well, not mysteriously, she had a few more than she should. But so did Steve, so it was fine.

When the cookies are finally baked, Steve waits a few minutes before placing some on a plate and bringing them over to the blanket pile that is still acting as a couch. But instead, some of the chairs hold up the blankets, making a small fort.

It reminds her of the ones her mom and her made during thunderstorms. When the trailer would shake with each boom, but not the fort. With soft pillows and flashlight shadow puppet stories. Falling asleep when the thunder was far enough away that it became calming. Paired with the patter of rain on the roof. They were always safe in the fort.

Julie was safe in the fort.

She breaks the cookie in her hand, the warm chocolate smearing across her fingertips. Melting in her mouth as soon as they hit. Giving her the energy to say what she needs to say. What she wants to say.

“You know it was El that called, right.” Julie breaks the cookie again. “Well, of course you know. You’re the one who gave me the phone.”

Steve sits straighter, giving Julie his full attention. “Yeah, I know.”

“She was asking if I was free next Friday, for a sleepover.” Her heart starts racing as the words still stay unsaid. Trapped in her throat, even though she knows he wouldn’t care about them.

“That sounds fun. Did you want to go?”

Julie continues to stare at her hands, unable to look up. “Yeah, I do. It’s just. It’s harder now. Because I think, no, I know that I.” She takes a deep breath. She can do this. “I have a crush. On El.”

Steve takes a second to respond. Keeping the moment tense. Julie can only hear the sound of her own heart beating.

“That would make it harder,” he finally says.

“Yeah,” Julie chokes as the tears start to form again. “Yeah, it really does.”

Steve moves the plate of cookies out from in between them before scooting closer. Reaching out to place a hand on Julie’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not,” Julie stops him before he can try to comfort her. “I hate that I’m like this. It’s terrifying. I don’t want like this to be but I am. And I’m going to screw everything up.”

She pulls her legs up to her chest again, the tears retracing their tracks down her cheeks. Even when she thought the wells had dried, it keeps flowing.

“I know exactly how you feel,” Steve exhales. “I felt the same way when I figured out I liked guys. So much so, that I pushed it down and forgot it for years. Kept pretending that this part of me wasn’t a part of me. Hated myself for it. Pushed that hatred outward toward people who didn’t deserve it. Just because I was so angry with myself that I couldn’t be normal.”

Julie clenches her eyes shut, trying to force the tears to stop flowing. Wanting this hurt to stop.

“There were a lot of factors that made me want to hide who I was, I think. My parents, mostly. My reputation. I was the kid that threw parties and had all the nicknames. Hawkins High School’s poster boy. A Harrington. Any wrong move and I was done for. I didn’t need that wrong move to be dangerous.”

She pulls herself more inward. Wondering if she becomes small enough, the problems will just go away. No longer hunting the prey hiding in the bushes.

“It took a lot for me to realize that I wasn’t-. That I wasn’t broken.” Steve takes a deep breath, clears his throat. “That this part of me was normal. Is normal. Just doesn’t always feel like it in a small town. It took meeting other people like me to realize that this was something I could be and still be happy. And believe me, there’s so much happiness waiting for you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Julie mutters into her knees. “It feels like everything keeps breaking apart over and over again.”

“Yeah, yeah it does.”

Julie lifts her head up, finally turning to look at Steve. “I just don’t want to mess up one of the first friendships I’ve had in years because I can’t stop acting weird around her. I can hate myself all I want, I can’t make her hate me too.”

Steve takes a deep breath, turning himself so he’s facing Julie completely. “And you won’t. El is one of the most loving and forgiving people I have ever met. Well, when she cares about someone. She can be pretty brutal to the people who she doesn’t like, but that’s not the point. El cares about you, she won’t judge you for this.”

“I can get not judging me for the liking girls bit. But liking her?” Julie doesn’t know how that could ever work out in her favor.

“Ok, so this next part doesn’t directly apply to your problem. And I’m not sure if any of this is even helping, but it just feels like it needs to be said and I know he won’t care if I share this for him.” He takes another breath. “But Eddie and I were kind of going through this same problem with each other. Only difference is I knew he was gay, and he didn’t know I was.”

“And the only difference between that situation and this one is that yours was a success story,” Julie says before he can continue. Shocking him. “You two aren’t as good as hiding it as you think you are. I picked it up a while ago.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, kinda figured. I’m more just trying to say that this thing you’re going through isn’t unique. Hell, half of the people in our group have had that feeling some way or another. And we’re still friends. You’re going to be just fine, trust me.”

Just fine doesn’t exactly sound like anything she wants to be. She’s been just fine for months. It’s kind of shitty. Not feeling like anything important, knowing she should be feeling more but can’t. Moving without really moving through life. Just going from one day to the next, them all blending together. Right up until fine becomes a lie again.

Until something unearths itself in the mind and can no longer be ignored. Brings all of its own problems and piles on top of all the others. Dragging up old baggage with it, only adding to the problem.

Leaving Julie with one more question she’s too afraid to ask.

So much in her life has changed. So much is different now. She’s a new person, one her mom wouldn’t recognize. Overwhelmed by grief. Brought into this large group of people, a giant family. Surrounded by people who are like her. Who show her that this is a life she could have. If she just put enough trust in herself.

If she put enough trust in her mom. And stopped wondering if she would still love Julie the same knowing that she will never marry a man. An answer Julie will never actually get.

Steve reaches out and pulls Julie into a hug. Comforts her the way a brother can, but it doesn’t bring the same comfort that Julie craves.

It’s things like this that makes Julie’s heart ache the most. How she will go through these big life events and never hear the same words of comfort again. Never have her mother’s weight sit on the foot of her bed, telling her it will all be ok. That no matter what, she will always love Julie. Never will stop as long as she lives. And even then, the love will transcend death and continue for infinity.

Nothing can stop infinity. Julie hopes that means nothing will stop her mother’s love either. Even this.

“Sorry for taking your coming out moment away from you,” Julie says after she calmed down. “I know you were waiting to tell me about it.”

Steve shrugs it off. “That’s ok. I was really dragging my feet with telling you, I’ve been ready for a while now, just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“For what it’s worth, it kind of helped. Made me feel a little better knowing that I’m not alone in this.”

“You’re not alone in anything, Julie. No matter what, there will be people behind you. Whether that’s me, your friends, anyone else lucky enough to meet you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Thanks, though.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

. . .

The notice from the courthouse comes a week later. Alerting Steve that it’s time to approve the court date. One’s been selected for him, but can be pushed back if he needs it to. But it’s there. It’s real. This is actually happening.

He goes over the evidence again, confirms with Hopper that he can actually witness. Get the files all ready on his end. Then contacts his old nanny and gets talked into coming over for brunch. To catch up and see how he’s doing. Make sure she is what he needs for this case. Which she is. She was the longest one he ever had and was extremely meticulous. Most likely still has her pay stubs after all these years.

The last person he has to call is Nancy. Who doesn’t even know that he’s moved yet. Or that his parents are home.

It’s been a while since he’s called her, obviously, and he’s been avoiding it. Not wanting an earful of her again. But he needs to know when she’s back and if she’ll testify for him. She he dials her number.

“Nancy speaking.”

“Hey, Nance, it’s Steve. I have some things to catch you up on.”

She sighs. “Oh, I know. Robin refused to tell me anything about whatever’s going on. I think it was to force you to call me.”

“Yeah probably.”

After a long conversation and a lecture from Nancy on the importance of phone calls, she agrees to testify on his behalf. As both a character witness and also to back up some of the evidence he has.

Everything’s starting to get put together. Now all there is to do is wait.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis,

@ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi,

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet,

@steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy,

@connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso,

@crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @melonmochi

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #julie lawson #nancy wheeler #el hopper #steddie #long lost/secret sibling #sibling au #i don't know which way's home fic #coming out #internalized homophobia

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