#who the fuck is cold war steve
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bizarre Brexit jigsaw can be yours for just £3!
#thrifting#shiftythrifting#submission#who the fuck is cold war steve#brexit shit#politics#puzzles#lmao#satire
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Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.
It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.
He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.
Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.
He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.
One step forward, then another, and another.
There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.
His palms brush against the bathroom door.
“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.
He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.
With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.
“Okay, okay…”
Pulls.
Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.
And…
The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.
Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.
“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.
He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.
“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”
Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.
As he works, Eddie hums nervously.
“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?
Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.
But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.
“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”
Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”
“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”
Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”
“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”
“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”
“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”
“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”
“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”
Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”
“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.
Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”
“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”
“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”
“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, “As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”
“Check? What?”
Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.
“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”
“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.
He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.
After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.
There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.
Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.
“Eddie. You can go.”
“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”
“Suit yourself.”
Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.
“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”
“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”
Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.
“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”
Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”
“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”
“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”
But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.
“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”
“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”
“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”
“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”
Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”
Steve hums.
“In bold. Underlined.”
“Whatever you say.”
Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”
Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.
Eddie takes it.
When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.
“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so.”
Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.
There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.
“You too,” he tells Eddie.
“Huh?”
Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.
“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”
He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.
For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.
“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”
Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.
You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.
Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.
“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.
He drinks.
Steve prays that it holds.
#reciprocal hurt/comfort & protectiveness because they notice each other and care so damn much. with a side of banter of course ❤️#pre steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie
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I Need You To Listen - Steve Rogers
Summary: For @the-slumberparty 's Week 3 Something New Challenge, I went with the medium mode - sex pollen but with exes to lovers. This took alot of work I ended up rewriting it entirely, I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 7.4k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics
Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, angst, smut, fluff, sex pollen, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, love bites, steve rogers dirty talking (this man), swearing, nipple play, past is in italics, sort of a post civil war rewrite so we're going completely off canon
Main Masterlist || AO3
Fate works in the most hilarious of ways, a stubbed toe over here and a broken heart still being nursed over there.
Tony Stark stands in front of your cell, staring at you through the glass. You don’t hold back your tears from him. Disappointment colours his features.
Broken pieces of trust lay scattered on the floor. The damage by him was done. Leaving you to bear the brunt. Leaving you to walk on the jagged edges of the broken family.
A family that shared jokes, laughed, drank and protected each other.
Won together.
Lost together.
In the past few days died together.
“How are you holding up?” His arc reactor gleams as he takes a seat on the stool. Unzipping the jacket he wears his arm in a sling. You close your eyes, more tears fall at the memory of the fight. An involuntary shiver as the chiling bite of the cold manifests itself from your memory.
The cell isn’t uncomfortable. There is a cot in the corner, the bathroom has a door. The sterile scent of the cleaning agent stopped giving you a headache hours ago.
“Why are you asking me?” You look at him, he should be mad, he should yell, call you a traitor.
“Contrary to what you all think and did to me, I trust you.” He shrugs, left eye twitching, he rolls his shoulder.
“How is the arm?” Your gaze falls to it.
“Seen better days. You know, heart troubles.” He looks at Wanda’s cell, “Kid, Vis is asking about you.”
She looks up at him, “Is Rhodes alright?”
Tony presses his lips into a thin line, shaking his head.
Wanda looks down at her hands.
“He tore us apart. That Baron Zemo. I know you have a lot to learn, alot to grieve. The accords may be dissolved. I’m working on it. At SI we’re preparing the bail documents.” He informs you all.
Sam scoffs, “What about Cap and Barnes?”
“James is in recovery as per my last conversation with T’Challa. Where Cap and Nat are I do not know nor does he.” Tony gazes back at you.
“I trusted him.” Is all you can say to him. You stare at your palms, you couldn’t get the blood off.
“I know, I did too.”
“Tony.” Your lips quiver another sob at the heartbreak Steve left you with to deal. All alone.
Bucky fights Tony, you don’t want to see your best friend hurt. The man who took you under his wing when you joined in, your steps halted by the blonde haired man who harbours your heart.
“Sign the accords.” Steve orders, you gape at him.
“Steve, do you fucking realise? We’re here because I didn’t sign them because I am siding with you?” You almost yell. The tempreture drops as the snow cascades into the facility from the now broken windows.
Bucky lands on the floor, a pained groan, his arm blasted off. He kneels, eyes widened at the implication. At the man he hurt irreparablely being the one to take away one of the curses HYDRA bestowed upon him.
“Shit!” Your eyes move to Tony, slowly he rises from the floor. The suit broken in several places.
“Y/N, you need to listen. You cannot go rogue with me.”
“Steve,” You push his arm away you had to intervene.
“It was good while it lasted.” He says and everything turns to static.
“Wh-what?”
“Look, I, we had a good run but I know your stance on the accords you’re just with me for the sole reason we’re together.” Steve says to you.
“Are you serious right now?” Anger courses through you, your grip on your pistol tightens.
“It's not even the accords. I, I didn’t think we would make it beyond this month. Look, I have to think about Bucky. Its all of this, it doesn’t, priorities.” He lunges over to defend Bucky leaving you defenceless. Your ears ringing, you watch as they fight, you can’t hear any of the clangs the groans.
You stand there dumbfounded.
As Steve throws Tony down the beam reflects off of his shield and hits you on the shoulder you’re thrown against the wall. Bucky meets your eyes, at least he seems apologetic.
Tony tries to get up to help you, “Rogers, she’s hurt—,” The shield slams against the arc reactor.
“I don’t care.” He says so easily.
You pant as the pain increases, both the burn and sting of his words as well as the physical injuries manifesting across you.
Steve helps Bucky up, you try to push yourself to your knees, crawling to Tony while keeping your arm close to your body.
Bucky looks back at you, his eyes convey his remorse. Tony breathes hard, you blink back tears at the glance Steve doesn’t spare towards you.
Eight months down the drain.
The morning kisses, cuddles, the random sketches of you he left as gifts all lose their importance. Remembrance only causes pain.
“Mr. Stark, you need to leave.”
Tony sighs, “I’ll visit, or I’ll have you guys out before that. Work some arrangement.”
“I’m so sorry, Tony.” You look at his arm and back at his face.
He gives you one of those sad smiles of his, the one where he pretends it's just another day, another common thing.
“Aren’t you foolish to trust us again?” Sam questions him as Tony passes by his cell.
“I just have to do my job. It’s the people who have to trust us.” Tony turns to face Sam.
“So the people trust the missile maker millionaire Stark?” Sam knows the jab is stinging, Tony hated
that about the company’s past.
The rift was ever present, your friend looks towards you.
“Y/N, let him know not to insult me, I’m a billionaire.” He grabs his glasses and moves away.
You resist the urge to laugh, everyone would resort to their coping mechanisms. You’d have to bide your time here. Usually getting black out drunk was how you solved your own problems.
True to his word Tony has you all released on various conditions. You, Scott and Wanda are released together.
When you reach the tower it isn’t surprising that there was a break in, you’d scoff that Steve didn’t come to break you out but he made his decision in Siberia.
The faint scent of his cologne lingers in your room. Hints of Patchouli and Bergamot. You stare at the box on your bed.
Opening it reveals a burner phone.
“I got a burner too, one number loaded upon it.” Tony stands at the door holding a glass of scotch for himself and your favourite Vodka in a bottle.
“Surprised he bothered.” You open the phone and it chimes an unread text upon it.
“I didn’t get that.” He observes, you take the bottle from him.
Opening the text.
SGR: I want to talk to you. Please let me explain.
You laugh bitterly, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip. At least you can blame these tears on the alcohol.
“Are you going to? Call him I mean.” Tony settles on your desk chair.
“Nope.” You set your bottle down after three more sips, grabbing the edges of the opened flip phone you press. The phone snaps from its hinges and you place it back down in the box, “Did you track it?”
“Fake return address.” He twirls the ice in his drink.
The two of you bask in the silence. Drinking in tandem and out of sync.
“Were you going to sign the Accords?” You ask after a while staring at the setting sun.
“Nope,” He reaches for your bottle, pouring himself a peg, “I was having them redrafted. Steve only had to agree for them to shut up. My draft would have gotten approved.”
“So confident.” You raise your brows.
“Comes with the job title.” He rolls his eyes.
“Do you think anyone will trust anyone?” You tap the bottle neck.
Steve’s laughter reverberates against your chest. He reaches up to cup your face.
“Why is it so amusing?” You ask, not meeting his eyes.
“Because it is, Poppet. I wouldn’t break your heart.” He assures yet again.
You gnaw at your bottom lip trust was difficult to come by for you.
“You want to know why?” He whispers, making you meet his gaze. His nose brushing against your own.
“Because I have your heart and it's what is keeping me alive.”
You lean closer, pressing your lips to his, Steve kisses you back. Hands pulling you closer. You feel his smile between the kisses and you begin to retract knowing what he was upto but it’s too late.
Steve tickles your sides and laughter blubbers from your chest. He grins, cheeks flushed as you press against him. The thin sheet hides nothing from the way you feel.
“I love you.” He says, you stroke his cheek with your thumb.
“I loved him with everything in me.” You blubber out, tears falling down.
Tony sits next to you, your head rests on his good shoulder, “I know you did. It's a hard road ahead, kid. Not an undoable one.”
“I hate him.” You declare, “I hate him, he just, how could he be so selfish?”
“Sometimes we all are, he is in the wrong. He didn’t exactly reciprocate the trust.” Tony sighs, you look up at him.
“I’m sorry about your parents.” You watch him give you those sad smiles, he flexes and extends the fingers of his left hand.
“He could have told me, I trusted him enough that he could.” He whispers then shakes his head.
“Steve Rogers is an asshole.” You declare raising your bottle to his assholery. Then you giggle.
“You just thought of the word assholery didn’t you?” Tony giggles as well.
Both of you burst out laughing.
“Hey Tone?” You ask mid laughter.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for being here, also can I get a box?”
“Sure.” He stands, FRIDAY has the box led by one of his tinkered bots to the room.
“I need to check on Rhodey.” He says, “I’m a call away okay?”
You nod, he leaves. The box stays on your bed and then you stare at the sketches hung around your room. With a delicateness that Steve didn’t spare towards you, you pack up the papers. Sealing the box with plastic wrap and head down to the safety deposit lockers.
Your steps are misjudged and you drop your box of trinkets several times. The stupid ceramic mug from that couples pottery class probably shattered.
You giggle thinking how it resembles your heart.
Locking the box leaves you in silence. Your room is void of all things Steve except the one shirt he gave you on your first mission together where the two of you fell into the muddled waters that left the two of you in need to change out of clothes.
The shirt smells like him, you curl up with it on your pillow.
“This is the last time you gave your heart away.” You tell yourself.
“This is the last time you cry over him.” You promise yourself.
Eight months pass and you all sit in the conference room. The accords are abolished. They reinstate Natasha, Sharon, James, Sam and him. Tony holds his flip phone. Resorting to texting rather than speaking to him.
A reply comes when you all are back at the tower. They’d be there tomorrow. Rooms are prepared with favourite foods stocked up. You had requested your room be shifted away to another level.
Heart ache didn’t manifest beyond those few nights.
Your walls that Steve Rogers broke down were built back stronger. Impenetrable. His shirt was placed in his room by you a month into getting over him.
You don’t pass by the floor, you’re a level above. Thankfully the elevators divide the levels they service and you won’t ever be on the same floor as him.
The night is restless despite your indifference to all of them. They were the family you chose and yet you were abandoned by them.
Dreams are but a loop of memories you have buried.
After your morning laps you head to Tony’s lab.
“They will be dropping in at SHIELD first. Fury wants to discuss some things and then they come back here.” He stifles a yawn.
“You need caffeine my friend.” You hold up the coffees, “Luckily I come bearing gifts.”
“I love you.” He whispers gingerly while taking the cup.
“Are you talking to the coffee or me?” You ask, taking a sip of your own.
“I can love both.” He defends, whispering to the coffee he loves it more.
You throw one of his discarded paper balls on him. It doesn’t phase him.
“Are you sure you want to come along?” He asks for the umpteenth time on the drive to SHIELD.
“Tony, I will leave you behind if you ask me again.” You glare at him.
“I think you will be fine.” Vision assures a gentle smile on his face and he laces his fingers with Wanda. She smiles at him, her own mind filled with thoughts.
“See we’ll be okay.” You declare.
Minutes later you’re seated on one side of the conference room. Tony on the first seat, you on the second. Vision opts to stand behind Wanda as she sits.
Fury sits at the head of the table. The door opens and Natasha, Sam and Steve step into the room. A thick silence settles over. You look at each of them and then back at Fury.
Natasha’s hair is shorter and blond, Sam seems to have gotten leaner. Steve was sporting a beard and longer hair.
You wondered if the post break up look was something you should have gone for, maybe dyed your hair blue.
“Well, as you know you all have been reinstated. The Avengers operate without any Accords binding them but they must be mindful of their poweress and the possible damage they may cause. A country has full discretion to forbid the Avengers from subduing threats that may lead them there and you must honour that no matter the cost.” Fury gazes at you all.
“What if they need help?” Steve questions, you scoff.
Cold blues flash to you. You roll your eyes.
“The dissolution of the Accords was done keeping this one rule in mind. I suggest you make peace with it. You will not be able to save everyone from damage and hurt, it is better than causing it.” Tony adds.
Steve’s jaw tightens. He nods.
“Now since this is done and dusted. Official missions may resume.” Fury places down a manila folder.
“Official?” Sam questions, raising a brow.
“Agent Y/L/N here was liasoning with us for recon purposes. Kept under wraps. We have identified HYRA bases. Once the plans are sanctioned you all will be back on duty.” Nick sighs, “I suggest you all train together to get a sense of your skill sets and moves again.”
No one nods.
Nick shakes his head leaving the room.
“Your old rooms have been cleaned at the tower. Access is via FRIDAY, food is stocked. Layout’s almost the same. Few changes here and there. Oh and there are new succulents in the living room.” Tony fiddles with the folder.
“We can conduct a meeting about these missions tonight or tomorrow. You all settle in, there is a car outside and your vehicles are in pristine condition at the garage.” He informs them further.
“No welcome back party?” Nat muses, you laugh.
“I drank all the liquor so unfortunately no parties.” You deadpan.
Nat and Sam stare at you.
“It has been a difficult few months. I understand everyone will take time to return to a semblance of previous normalcy.” Vision’s words are both reassuring but also farfetched.
Wanda grasps his hand and gives it a squeeze.
Steve’s brows furrow in worry. He observes you trying to find any hints but you give him none. You learned to school yourself. An agent well versed in hiding her intent, emotions and aim. Your skillset is what brought you to the team and it is what you have. It's what you could trust.
Sam nods, “Well best we head back.”
“Yes we could use some sleep.” Natasha says, you flash her a smile.
“Yep, well I have a few things to discuss with Fury.” You push away from the table first. Tony follows your lead.
“Should you not include us in the conversation?” Steve says in his authoritative baritone.
“Unfortunately, Captain, it isn’t an Avengers matter but a personal one. Which you aren’t entitled to know.” You spit back.
His mouth opens again to speak.
Tony beats him to it, “Where’s our Manchurian candidate?”
“Bucky’s in the UK for a bit, after Wakanda we were there for a while. He stayed back for personal reasons.” Steve explains and you slip out.
Steve stares at your room door, knocking on it yet again. Two weeks since his return and you had avoided him in every capacity.
He had worked up the courage to knock on your door today. But there was no response as it was over the past fifteen minutes. He requests FRIDAY to check in and all the AI says is that you’re fine.
You had gotten back from a mission yesterday morning. You had to have been resting.
“Why won’t she open her door then?” He mutters, pressing his forehead to your door, “Poppet, I just want to speak to you. Please.”
“Captain.” Vision greets floating out of Wanda’s room.
“Vision.” He acknowledges.
“Why are you knocking on an empty room’s door?” Vision tilts his head.
Steve blinks at him, “This is Y/N’s room.” he states as if obvious.
“It isn’t, she switched rooms about three months ago.” Vision says
Before Steve can ask anything further, Wanda opens her door, “Vis.” She gestures with her hand for him to return.
“Wanda.” He walks to her this time.
“FRIDAY, where is Y/N’s new room?” Steve questions walking to the elevators.
“She’s on the twenty-fifth floor.” The AI responds, he switches to the other elevator.
“Captain, you will have to go to the ground floor to switch elevators.” FRIDAY informs him.
Steve sighs moving back in front of the original elevator. It stops at every single floor; he almost misses the elevator as you’re getting on, luckily a Stark Industries employee holds the door for him.
You bite the inside of your cheek. Looking away.
“I want to talk.” He says over the all too silent but crowded elevator.
Everyone looks at him except you. They follow his gaze to you.
“I don’t.” You answer while staring at the numbers.
“Poppet.” He says and you shoot him a glare before looking away again.
People trickle in and out.
Steve’s gaze is trained upon you. He nods politely at those greeting him but his gaze nerver strays from you.
You look into your phone pulling up a forgotten game loaded into the device. Anything. Any stupid thing to avoid him.
Finally it's just the two of you.
The automated air freshener hisses filling the space with the scent of lavender.
“Poppet I just want to explain—,” Steve steps closer, his hand outstretched.
“No. I don’t fucking want to hear a word.” You seethe, you move forward pressing the button to your floor if it makes you reach quicker.
“Poppet.” He grabs your hand, turning you towards him.
“Y/N. Use my damn name.” You spit out, finally meeting his eyes.
There is a tick in his jaw, he nods, “Y/N. Just five minutes. I know I don’t deserve it—,”
“You don’t deserve to even ask for a minute of my time. You never saw us work beyond that month correct? Well guess what? We don’t.” You push at his chest, he doesn’t budge.
“I lied. I said those things so you wouldn’t follow. I could not have you living rogue with me.” Steve admits, you stare at him.
“You lied?” You repeat.
“I didn’t want to break things off but that was the only way I could ensure you wouldn’t follow behind me. It was dangerous. Poppet—Y/N,” he corrects, “I told you your heart kept me alive, I love you—,”
Steve’s head snaps to the side, cheek turning red at the impact of your slap. You breathe hard, eyes tearing up.
“That was not for you to fucking decide, you do not get to come back here and make your sorry excuses for being a horrible human being. Betraying my trust. Leaving me and your friend injured. You picked Bucky over us. You picked Bucky over me and I understand I would pick him too if I were you. But I would not fucking lie or leave my girlfriend and best friend behind injured horribly. You’re welcome back to the compound Steve. Even back to your glorious Captain America title. However,”
The doors open to your floor, you step out.
“I don’t know how you say you’re alive because I took my fucking heart back from your undeserving self. I don’t care if you lied, I don’t care if it was all fun and games. I don't care about you. I don’t want to care about you. You are a teammate because I am forced to consider you one. I don’t need to listen to you to provide you closure or a second chance. You fucking liar!”
“Poppet,” Steve reaches for you again, you take off running to your door.
“FRIDAY, deny access. Override only with Tony.” You order, the locks on your doors bolt and Steve keeps knocking and pleading.
He sinks to his knees outside your door apologising over and over.
Natasha is pinned to the floor by Wanda as the latter grins triumphantly. Natasha praises her and they break apart. You take Wanda’s place and Sam takes Natasha’s place.
Mixed training was now mandatory.
You had almost burned Nick Fury with your glare. Steve hadn’t shown up to any, in fact he hardly was in the same room as you.
Sam goes full offence, you block the blows. Defending yourself you had worked hard over the time away from official duties.
Minutes pass by, neither of you yields. Panting you stare at Sam waiting for an opening to take him down.
“Come on, that's all you got, little spy?” Sam teases, you laugh.
“You wish birdy.” You stick your tongue out childishly. Wanda and Nat laugh.
“Come on Wilson.” Nat prompts, “We’re bored here.”
“Alright,” Sam moves, pulling a fake. You catch it a moment too late, as he’s about to tackle you to the ground you turn. Tugging on his arm as Sam’s eyes widen.
The momentum thrown off both of you land on your sides, recovering swiftly he’s pinned to the ground by you.
You grin at him.
“How's that birdy?” You laugh at his irritation. Sam rolls his eyes.
“Y/N.”
Everyone’s heads snap to the door, Steve and Tony stand there.
You help Sam up. Sam keeps an arm around your shoulder. Steve’s eyes linger and his fists clench.
Sam takes his arm away.
You roll your eyes, they land on Tony as he bites his cheek, oh this can’t be good you deem.
“Wheels up in an hour for Rogers and you.” He delivers the news.
“Sam, Nat, Vis and Wanda are needed to take on a bigger base with Tony.” Steve looks at you, “Fury’s orders before you try to whine your way out if it.”
You glare at him, “Alright.”
An hour later you’re on the jet with Steve. He doesn’t talk. The last conversation between the two of you was enough.
“We won’t be splitting up.” Steve informs you. You nod, studying the layout.
You frown in recognition.
“I was here on recon. This is supposed to be a dead base.” You look up at him.
“Fury said they detected activity.” He looks back ahead.
“Hopefully it's just random people looking for shelter.” You look back at the plans.
Steve hums, observing you again. Wishing it would be like before where the two of you would be holding hands.
Cobwebs litter the walls, plaster cracked. The scent of something decaying permeates through the space.
Walking into the HYDRA base is carefully crafted, Steve leads with his shield. You keep a double check on the back trail. Something was not sitting right with you.
The hallway diverges, you stand next to Steve, “Left side first then we can go right.” You whisper.
He nods, “Stay close, I don’t know why something feels wrong.”
You don’t verbalise your own feelings, following in his footsteps.
The hallway leads to an abandoned lab, the computers torn down and broken apart. Steve relaxes his defensive stance looking around the area.
You move carefully through the edge of the room, “Something should be of value here.”
“I don’t think there is anything.” Steve declares, “Let's clear the other pathway.”
You give another once over and then follow him back down the path.
Your boot catches on the uneven flooring, “Shit!” You whisper yell as you fall forward.
Steve turns, breaking your fall. You land against his chest and his arm encircles your waist. For a moment that echoes a broken promise of eternity he holds you close to him.
Steve sneaks a moment he lost over a stupid decision. He takes what crumbs he’s given by fate.
Your palm is against his chest, your head tucked against the crook of his neck.
Why can't you move away?
Why do you want more of him?
Why do you miss him?
He hurt you.
He lied.
He hurt you.
You break the eternity Steve was living as you pull away, silence stretches between the two of you as you head down the other hallway.
It's empty yet again, you shake your head at the waste of time. Steve steps closer to the vials on the shelf. The liquid in them gleams a certain way.
You hear a pneumatic hiss from your left. You turn quietly making your way to the wall.
Steve studies the shelf again. There was no dust on it. No pattern on it. These were fresh vials. Then his eyes widened, “Y/N don’t!”
You turn to face him when the hiss is louder and the slits of the vent open. A dust like substance pours over floating around you.
A coughing fit grips you, you place your hand against the wall to steady yourself the gun falls as you clutch your chest wheezing.
Steve pads over to you, trying to rub your back to ease the coughing fit. He asks FRIDAY to scan the micro dust to see if it is anything dangerous.
The coughing fit subsides over a few minutes, your breathing shallow. You look up at Steve blinking away the tears. He cups your cheek.
“Are you okay? Do you feel anything?” He questions, gaze running over every aspect of you. Glove clad large palms moving over your form. You nod, but then your stomach cramps.
“What is it?” Steve takes not of your discomfort.
“I, it's my stomach—,” Your words are cut off by a whimper as the cramp gains severity. You lean more against the wall as the cramp travels across.
Steve rummages through his mind to know what this substance could be, he had been to HYDRA bases before. He spoke to Bucky all about them, their experiments which he knew.
He watches as your skin flushes, you squirm in his grasp. He steps closer to support you.
“Poppet?” Steve makes you look up at him, your eyes have a dazed look almost glazed over. You feel his warmth through your tactical suit. His thigh between your legs and the ache the needy ache is all you know and you need to get rid of it.
“Please,” You plead to him gazing at his slightly blurred blue eyes, your hips moving out of their own accord against his thigh you moan as your core makes contact with him.
Steve pushes your hips away, “Poppet what—,”
“Steve, it hurts so badly. Please,” You cry out wiggling against his hold. His fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place.
Your palms cover his, you look up at him.
You lean up, he shifts back. You use the distraction to guide his palm to grind down on it. Your choked moan has his cock harden further. He can’t help but watch as you use him.
Logic hits him then when he feels just how wet you’ve gotten, before he can pull away there is a prick in the side of his neck. You begin to blur from his view.
“Poppet, something is wrong.”
You look up at him, why did his words sound garbled?
Why was he falling to his knees?
You look behind him, people standing and watching.
The need clouding your mind clears in the slightest, “Steve,” you kneel next to him.
“It’s okay,” he assures you, reaching for the shield.
The cramp hits you again harder; you cry out in pain, doubling over and sinking against the wall to curl up.
“FRIDAY, dis-distress signal.” Steve orders as his vision begins to blacken, he reaches for you with the last of his strength covering your curled up form with his body.
Steve keeps his eyes closed.
Enhanced hearing picking up the dripping pipes from the left. To his right he hears your pained whimpers.
How long was he out?
Chains bind his arms above him, the uneven concrete digs into his knees and shins. He would search for the shield in the aftermath.
He counts four people by their rhythmic footfall. They were in the same facility. It couldn’t have been easy to move them.
Lolling his head to right he watches you through hooded eyes, chained like him kept on your knees but you’re struggling. Squirming on the ground trying to find respite and crying out of frustration.
“Sex pollen.” Bucky spoke, with a shake of his head in disgust.
“Sex pollen?” Steve repeated as if to confirm.
Bucky gives him a look, Steve’s eyebrows shot up higher.
“What does that do? Did they use it on you?” Steve questioned his best friend.
Bucky shook his head, “It basically sets the libido up to the maximum, forces the person in contact to orgasm but basically they need to have sex, self pleasure seldom works. The intensity is higher to combat the inevitable effect.”
A dark expression crossed Bucky’s features, he sighed sadly. Looking out at the view from his home in Wakanda. The house, though borrowed, was Bucky’s own.
Steve had placed a few sketches of Brooklyn around. The place he used to consider home now changed. Steve stares at the more recent sketch of his home city.
Two men out of time in a place decades ahead of the world outside.
“How long?” Steve clutches his charcoal tighter as he forms the curve of soft lips on the paper. A stray tendril of hair.
Bucky looks down at the half done sketch of your face. His heart aches for Steve and you.
“Two hours, it gets progressively maddening. At first one can try to speak or answer what is asked. After that it is variable how long it takes for the need to become the sole focus. If nothing is done in two hours then its too far gone and well...”
He had limited time, he could not gamble any further. Steve opens his eyes, tugging at the restraints to catch the attention of the captors.
You hear the rattling, you look up at Steve another pang through your core.
“Steve—,”
“Ah, Captain. Welcome to the land of the waking, you were out for just under an hour. Now who is this sweet little needy thing with you?” The man asks, stepping closer to you.
Steve growls, “Stay away from her.” he warns.
The man raises his hands in defence, “She’s a little needy Captain,” he walks back toward Steve away from you, “Why so possessive?”
Steve bites his tongue, “She’s mine.” he grits out.
“I see and why is she yours?”
He can’t tell them, they would exploit you but his will is crumbling swiftly and his mind is compelling him to speak, “I love her.”
“Hm, it seems she needs you, Captain.” The man grins, walking back to you. His palm touches your scalp as he pulls your hair back. You want to recoil but the touch is soothing some of the ache. You look at Steve, pleading.
“I could fill in.” He says suggestively.
You try to shuffle away but the grip on your hair tightens.
“Don’t you fucking dare touch her!” Steve bellows as his thumb approaches your lips, “What the fuck do you want?” He pulls against the restraints, almost snarling.
“I want to know where my Soldat is, tell me.” The man demands, leaving you. The words register as does the scent of cigarettes you recoil. You feel your mind working again, clearing the need to be fucked.
“Steve don’t,” you warn him, he couldn’t sell out Bucky whatever this was, it wasn't worth ruining his life again, “I’ll deal with this…” you bite back the pained whimper.
Steve stares at you, eyes wide and with an emotion you can’t place.
“Oh but you know what is wrong with her don’t you Captain?” The man demands and you look to Steve, “Tell her the truth that burns your veins, Captain.”
Steve wants to lie, wants to cushion you, “Truth serum?” He looks at the man who nods.
“Brilliant isn’t it? You’re compelled to tell me whether or not she chooses to be saved. You’re on a time limit.” The man taps his watch.
“It’s a sex pollen.” Steve informs you, you stare at him.
“That, that's why I need?” Your insides churn and your clit pulses as you watch Steve lick his dry lips before he continues to speak. The small insignificant action has your body wanting to be devoured.
“Yes, and if you don’t get release, it’s fatal.”
Silence stretches on the footfall of the three others has stopped, they watch the show play out. The consequences and the outcomes weighed.
“Fight it, don’t tell them. It's not worth it.” You whisper.
“Poppet you cannot say that. I am not risking your life!” Steve yells, pulling at the restraints again.
“You can’t have him at risk again!”
“I won’t let you die!”
“You already left me for the dead once! You chose him once. Just fucking do it again!” You seethe, your skin clammy and you just want this suit gone. The material irritates you.
Steve gapes at you, “I, I didn’t—,”
“Save it.”
“As much as I enjoy a lover’s quarrel. Where is Soldat?” The man interrupts.
“Gone.” Steve answers, “Poppet, please,”
“Don’t fucking tell them!” You demand, “Consider it my last wish! Fight the damn truth serum.”
“You are not dying.” Steve grits out.
“Where is he, where is Bucky Barnes?” The man lands a punch to Steve’s face. His hair falls forward, slowly Steve looks up at the man. Rage colouring all his features.
“I will let you help her. Just tell me where Bucky is, Captain.” The man promises. Steve considers, you begin to yell no at him.
“He’s in the United Kingdom.”
“Are you insane?!” You slump to the ground, “Do you have any fucking idea what have you done?”
The man walks over and slaps you, “Shut the fuck up! You want a cock so fucking bad you fucking bitch in heat, I’ll give you one!”
Steve snarls, wrapping the chain around his own palm and tugging hard until it breaks away from the wall. The man turns, gun cocked and ready, it's grabbed out of his hand by Steve. He looks at the man dead in his eyes before delivering the fatal shot.
You look up at Steve, as the man drops to the floor between the two of you.
Steve watches the other three scramble about, he quickly fires the shots, he keeps one person alive.
He grabs the other chain, yanking it with all his strength. It gives way.
“Where is the shield?” He walks over to the man on the ground, pleading in pain.
A shaking hand rises, pointing to the vault.
“Access code?” Steve picks him up and takes him to the keypad.
The man enters it crying when Steve presses on the open wound, “Don’t fucking pull any stunts.”
You watch as the doors part and the shield stays there as a momento.
You blink when everything goes out of focus. You blink again. Heat spreads over your body goosebumps raise across.
Your thighs clench and you squirm trying to get some friction to release the ache. Tugging at the restraints is maddening. They don’t relent when you try to manoeuvre but no position provides any respite and you sob out as the frustration grows.
“Poppet.” A warm voice calls out, you whimper. The hold on your right arm loosens and your hand reaches for the tactical suit. You had to get it off. You needed to get it off.
You blink and watch as Steve’s hand stops yours, you push at him.
“Please,” you whimper as another cramp takes over.
“You smell so sweet baby.” He groans, the sound urges you on, you guide his hand to where you need him.
His warm palm cups you the fabric of your suit soaked Steve hears your sigh of relief.
“Going to take care of you Poppet, but you need to hold on for me okay?” Steve assures, breaking out your left arm as well.
“Steve please,” you beg again, your mind screaming at your body, your hips move making you grind onto his palm. Your smaller palm wrapped around his wrist not letting him pull away.
“Fuck,” He groans, pushing you against the corner and undoing your suit’s zipper, you don’t face him palms braced against the wall. Steve’s warm calloused palm is as though cold respite to your heated skin.
He doesn’t waste time, fingers running over your folds, palm pressing against your clit. Your head tilts back resting against his shoulder, mouth parted moans leaving you.
Steve presses his fingers into you, two thick digits and your walls clench around him he almost wishes he’d fuck you right there.
“Fuck this pussy remembers who she belongs to doesn’t she?” Fingers curve finding the spot he very well could have placed. Stars line your vision as he hits the spot over and over, fingers curving.
“Right there Steve!” You cry out your ass rocking against him, pressing onto his cock. He keeps his thrusts hard and fast, palm rubbing your clit in the most delicious of ways. His grunts fill your senses.
Pleasure thrums from his touch to your body, your back arching as his fingers drive deeper and deeper into you. Your walls are gripping them back in not wanting him to stop.
“I know sweet Poppet. I know what makes her weep for me. I’m going to taste you. But first you’re going to make a mess on my hand alright?” He instructs filthy words offset by the sweet kisses placed against your forehead and cheek.
His other hand cups your breast playing with your nipple. Your hands fall from the wall, gripping onto his nails leaving indents on his skin. Steve watches your chest constrict, your voice choke off, eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashes into you.
His fingers keep moving, riding your orgasm out, your walls quivering around him the sensitivity of your clit as it pulses. Some of the haze clears but the need just returns tenfold.
“Steve, please, I can’t, can’t wait—,”
His lips are on yours, cutting you off, your suit pushed down further without breaking away from the kiss.
The shield clatters to the floor, his suit haphazardly discarded. Steve’s hands explore your body, remembering the planes he explored before. The love he whispered across your skin. Marking you with his touch, his lips, his seed.
“Wanna see you,” You want to turn, he grabs your hands pinning them to the wall.
“No one gets to see you this way but me.” He growls, you feel his hard cock move between your thighs. His larger body covers yours, shielding you, watching over you.
When your thighs clench around him, Steve hisses, “Going to fill you up, sweet girl.” he coos.
Inch by inch Steve’s length stretches you, your back arches. The relief the stretch of his cock brings is unlike anything else you’ve felt before.
“You can take it, made for my cock aren't you?” He stills inside you, throbbing as your walls clench around him. He moans biting down on your shoulder the feel of you decadent, unable to be given justice by his mind.
“Heaven. Pussy feels so good, baby. Missed you so much.” He grunts, you push back against him needing him to move, “hands around my neck.” He orders, leaving your hands.
You wrap them around him, holding onto his now longer hair, soft between your fingers. Your mind remains you of the soft moments when he laid in your lap and your fingers combed through these locks.
Steve pulls you out of your thoughts with the snap of his hips. His palms gripping your waist anchoring you to him. Skin slapping against skin, his cock feels so good you could sob, the need turns into embers, your thirst being quenched.
Each delicious, deep stroke moves you towards sweet bliss. You hear your name in an echo of his name. Steve watches the wall you mould against him, as countless times before. Your heart may have put up walls but your body left no space.
The way he sees the telltale signs of your orgasm he brings his right hand towards your apex, timing his rough circles on your clit to his thrusts. The sensations blooming become too much, your body alit with flames of pleasure, Steve moans as your walls begin to milk him just as your orgasm shatters through you.
He keeps his thrusts going, pumping into you. The arousal that spills onto your thighs, the mix of you and him.
“One more.” He demands, fingers coated with the mix of the two of you, his marked fingers brought back to your clit, you cry out in ecstasy.
The blissful haze clears, everything returning to you. The mission, the power, you can’t, you can’t, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve–,
“Right here my sweet poppet, you will give me one more. You know I'm greedy.” He reasons, only increasing his pace, you thrash in his hold. Lips find the sweet spot of your neck.
It’s your undoing, you cum around him yet again. Crying out his name, tugging on his hair. Aftershocks moving through you. He holds you up, pressing kisses to your forehead, temple, cheek, jaw and shoulders.
Grounding you, palms moving over you after he brings his coated fingers to taste them. Your head lols against his shoulder, you reach for his jaw, placing a soft kiss. Steve smiles at the familiar gesture.
Helping you get dressed he follows as well. You’re lifted into his arms and carried to the quinjet.
As it had turned out Bucky wasn’t in UK it was a precautionary measure they came up with to secure Bucky from any life threatening attempts. The guilt you had harboured lessened.
Steve had stayed away from you, once Tony and Bruce cleared you of any remnant pollen he took his leave. Avoiding you as he had after the elevator confrontation. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.
As much as you felt as if you were an emotional fool for considering the thought of wanting to approach him, you missed him. Terribly.
You knew your walls were useless against the one man who you had given your jagged heart to, the blue eyes you had drowned yourself in multiple times. Whether it was when he found your gaze across the room or when you were pressed against him.
Your feet carried you after three days to his door. Your hand shook when you knocked. Thoughts swirling through your mind insecurities gaining fleet.
The door opens, Steve’s eyes widen then his brows furrowed with worry, then fall to the still fading love bite that he placed on your collarbone. You shift your weight to either side. Hands fiddling with the hem of your top.
You look down at your feet, Steve’s palm cups your cheek.
Your eyes meet their old home of blue.
“I want to listen.” You manage to say, his pink lips stretch into a familiar smile.
He steps to the side inviting you further into his room.
-x-x-x-x-
#captain america#steve rogers smut#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fic#nomad steve x reader#steve x reader#steve rogers fluff#captain america x female reader#nomad steve smut#navy and roo's sleepover#steve rogers angst#steve rogers#steve rogers x you#navy and roo sleepover#steve rogers imagine#steven grant rogers#dom steve#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#captain america x you#steve rogers x female reader#frostironfudge#chris evans x female reader#christopher robert evans#cevans
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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 35
Part 1 Part 34
The shower Eddie finally takes, after over a week of rotting in Steve’s clothes, should be a relief. His head is no longer itchy. He washes the ash out of his eyes, and Steve’s blood out from beneath his nails. Replaces grime with the smell of the clinical nothingness that is the toiletries the hospital provided.
His breath no longer feels like it’s wilting the air around him after he brushes his teeth. The scrubs he changes into are stiff, but clean and dry.
It should be a relief. But, Steve is out of his sight, quiet and small in his hospital bed.
Wayne will keep him safe, he knows. But who will hold his hand if he wakes up again, delirious? Who will sooth him back to sleep?
He hurries the whole process, bangs plastered to his forehead, hair dripping down the back of his borrowed scrub top.
When he rushes out of the bathroom and into Steve’s hospital room, Wayne’s closer to Steve’s bed then he was when he left him, hand clasping Steve’s own, and staring down at him with a look on his face that Eddie’s only ever seen directed at him before.
It’s just like when Eddie’d kicked the hole in the plaster of the trailer. Or when Wayne had been called in by Hopper after one infraction or another. Or when he comes home after a session of Hellfire, and regales his uncle with the beat-by-beat replay of the action.
Like fondness and exasperation are warring for space in the purse of his mouth.
“What happened?” Eddie asks. The linolium is cold on his bare feet as he walks over to retake his own seat at Wayne’s side.
“Your boy woke up just long enough to ask how you were and then pass back out,” he says, glancing at Eddie, eyes twinkling.
“Did he seem–” Eddie starts, looking down at Steve’s relaxed face. “Is he okay?”
The doctors won’t tell them anything. They’re not his emergency contacts, not family. No one seems to care that no one’s been able to contact the Harrington’s for the two days Steve’s been rotting away in the hospital, alone, save for them. Eddie’s mind drifts back to the way Steve had hid so instinctually in his closet, like he needed a safe place in what should have already been safe, and wants to wring their skinny necks.
Wayne gently maneuvers his hand out from beneath Steve’s own. Steve’s fingers curl into a loose fist, grasping at air, like he’s seeking the warmth of Wayne’s skin even in his sleep. Wayne sits back in his seat, crossing his ankles as he settles with a sigh.
“He’ll be just fine,” Wayne says, turning in his chair to try to catch Eddie’s eyes. “That boy cares about you.”
He says it like it’s a revelation, but Eddie’s not surprised. He can feel it in the tug at his sternum. The way Steve’s eyes had looked through Eddie’s tears as he’d pressed his forehead to his. Like recognizes like.
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “He does.”
The Eddie of two weeks ago would’ve been standing on a table top about it. Saying jocks are a monolith, and Steve is the most jock of them all. He would’ve rioted about King Steve Harrington and his corrupt court of lackeys trying to buy his way into Eddie’s good books. For drugs. Or clout. Or something fucking stupid. Eddie would’ve raged against the machine, a riot in the making.
But that’s not his Steve. Maybe it was never Steve at all. Things look different from up close, and their lunch tables were always so far away.
Will Steve sit with him at lunch? He doesn’t look much like Steve the Hair Harrington anymore. His hairs been shaved down to the quick. They’d had to, just to get to the wound trailing up Steve’s forehead and into his hair. He can’t imagine this Steve, hurt and small, sitting with the jocks, throwing fries at Tommy Hagan.
The thought of school after all of this is like hives crawling up his spine. They’d died, risen back up again to end up back at fucking high school.
“I want to go home,” Eddie says. But he means his trailer a week and a half ago, before he was split into thirds. Before Steve Harrington and Will Byers. Before.
“You can,” Wayne says, scooting over in his chair so he can wrap his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, dragging him uncomfortably over the arm rest for a pseudo hug.
Eddie looks down at Steve’s sleeping face, wonders when home stopped just being a trailer and Uncle Wayne. Things change so fast when you’re running.
It’s a long night.
Eddie sleeps uncomfortably, propped up in his chair. Wayne drapes a scratchy blanket over him on his way out the door, off to work.
His dreams are full of shadows spilling out of the ground. Chasing him, and he’s always running but never getting anywhere. Of Steve’s back and Steve’s blood and Steve’s vacant eyes.
He wakes up to fingers combing through his hair, head pillowed on Steve’s hospital bed, blanket slipped off and onto the floor. It’s dark. One of the nurses must have turned off the lights.
The first day Eddie’d refused to leave, they’d given him his own oxygen mask and deluge of tests, propped up in his seat with Will similarly chained to his side. The second day, they’d tried to get him to go home, get out of the way.
They’d stopped trying to kick him out the day before.
The fingers move through his hair, pulling at the knots Eddie hadn’t bothered to comb out. Uncle Wayne must be back from his shift. Or maybe, it’s Mama Byers again, checking up on him again, as if she owes him anything at all.
“Hey.”
His heart ba-thump, ba-thump, tugs. He turns his head, smooshing it into the rough sheets to look up at the head of the bed. Steve’s eyes are open. He smiles hazily down at Eddie, uncoordinatedly petting at his head.
Eddie’s lungs heave, trying to vacate his body all together with the pressure of their seizing. He sobs, raising his hand to trail up across Steve’s cheek, impossibly soft after everything. “You’re such a fucking prick,” he says, heat lost in the way he’s blubbering into the sheets.
Steve smiles, like he’s never seen anything as great as Eddie Munson making a mess of himself at his bedside. It’s probably the morphine. “I know.”
“I dared you to stay alive,” Eddie says. “And then you just–”
He’s choking, too much to finish, like Steve’s not breathing in front of him again, or bleeding out in front of him. Steve’s always dying, and Eddie’s always crying about it.
“I did,” Steve says, still petting his head. It hurts a little. Eddie’s hair’s a mess of tangled curls atop his head. He never wants Steve to stop touching him. “I said I’d come home.”
Eddie cries. He’s not a cryer, but something’s flipped in him, making him weepy. Like the expectation of grief unrealized keeps bubbling up his throat and bleeding out his eyes. Steve Harrington, his own living ghost, smiles down at him.
“I’m so tired,” Eddie says. It’s a whine, the consonants drawn out and wet at the edges.
Steve’s still smiling, dopey and tired and perfect. He pats the spot next to him. “Come here.”
It’s a bad idea. Steve’s hurt. But Eddie’s so weak. The thing in his ribs tugs. Eddie follows it.
He crawls under Steve’s shitty hospital bedding, tucking his wet face into Steve’s neck, arm slung carefully over his chest. “You’ll still be alive when I wake up?” Eddie asks, trying to make it a joke. As if Steve’s lifeless eyes aren’t still looking at him from dreamland.
“Promise,” Steve says.
It feels like Steve’s lips on his forehead, quick and fleeting. In the wee hours of the morning, Eddie and Steve fall asleep.
Part 36
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Dancing in the Kitchen
summary: After the worst night imaginable, your best friend helps you when you need him most. What you don't realize is just how much you've always needed him.
or: Tony Dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together.
parings: protective!best friend!Steve Rogers x best friend!f!Reader
word count: 4.9k
warnings: fluff, angst, self-doubt and insecurity, verbally abusive relationship elements, insults + language/name calling, reader cusses and so does Steve bc he can, no smut!, wearing Steve's clothes (very little to no description about reader's body so do with that what you will), intense feelings, confessions, crying, anxiety, best friends to lovers, intimate touch, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, protectiveness, not Tony Stark friendly, cap quartet mention
a/n: these characters are out of college! It's set in their early-mid 20s following graduating and I thought it'd be a little more relatable (also since I'm not in college anymore I wanted this specific fic concept to be more relatable. self-indulgence and stuff). the cap quartet rent a house together. there might be more shenanigans in the future involving them. maybe. who knows? enjoy <3
If I've missed any tags, please let me know!
gif by @annislittleshopofhorrors | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist
Read this fic HERE on ao3!
♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
Everything was cold.
Everything was ruined.
Everything was a fucking nightmare.
Dark clouds shrouded the night sky, hiding helpful moonlight. Rain pelted at you from above, mixing with fresh tears, drenching you to the bone as cold water collected on your skin and soaked through your dress. Your hands morphed into balled fists at your sides as you shook with rage, heartbreak, and the innate need to punch something.
You couldn’t wrap your pounding head around the events of the night; everything blurred together after ten o’clock. It was like a cruel joke, one where you waited an eternity for the punchline, begging for it not to be real no matter how hard you screwed your eyes shut and prayed.
You didn’t want to believe it, yet there you were.
It sure as hell wasn’t the first time you found yourself standing at the backdoor of Steve Roger’s house on the cusp of a breakdown– and a breakup– warring with your own body to simply knock on the fucking door. Hell, Steve was already expecting you. He knew something was wrong the second you called; there wasn’t a warning text, just you, asking in a choked-up whisper if he was home. His response spilled out in a rushed ‘yes’ before you could explain further. A ‘no questions asked’ request, something not uncommon in your friendship. Steve, since day one, was one of your main sources of comfort within a thousand mile radius.
Now, he was your only source of comfort within a thousand mile radius.
Remnants of the phone call from Tony only minutes earlier echoed in your eardrums like a bad case of tinnitus. Annoying, repetitive. His hoarse, drunken slurry of vicious words clawed at the inside of your skull. Another fight. Another screaming match. Another forgotten birthday– this time, it included meeting your family. You’d planned it for months prior, making sure Tony knew not to forget it.
Your insides were twisting in knots as you waited at the restaurant awkwardly with your parents, brother, and an empty seat next to you. After an hour, eight failed calls and fifteen texts later, Tony finally picked up. Delight revived the few butterflies left in your stomach, only to be crushed, turning them into weighted dread as loud club music obliterated your ear drum as he shouted at you.
“You bitch!” he spat. “Why the ever-loving f-fuck are y’blowin’ up my phone for?!”
You didn’t have time to process what he was saying before he’d already reloaded and shot you with more.
“What the hell is sooooo important? Huh? Y-you stupid bitch! You fuckin’ knew I’m busy t’night!”
You tore the phone away. Even at arm’s length, you, and the rest of your family, could hear every single thing he spewed at you. A couple from the table next to yours stopped mid-bite to turn and throw rude looks at you and your family.
“Tony, please, I–”
“‘Tony please’– just shut up!” he mocked. “Just shut the fuck up! I don’t fuckin’ care what you gotta– what you have t’say! I can’t f–fuckin’ stand you anymore!”
Hurt and hunger morphed into churning waves of anxiety and embarrassment. Your throat was closing. Tears began stinging your eyes. You looked between your parents in shame, meeting their stunned looks filled with pity and disappointment. Your brother refused to look anywhere but the spot on his plate where he played with his food, sadness and second-hand embarrassment plaguing his face.
Yelling, jeering, and chanting echoed out of your phone. Tony didn’t stop.
“Y’know what? I’m not doin’ this anymore,” he slurred, gulping some unknown liquid down, swallowing, gagging. More cheering. “We– we’re fuckin’ done. You’re out. I’m done.”
The other line fumbled. You winced as you heard Tony wet his lips, preparing the final blow. His breathing became heavy, ragged, hard enough you could smell the liquor through the phone.
“Fuckin’ cunt.”
Click.
You loathed yourself for tolerating him; the endless cycle of poisoning you, providing the antidote, and taking it away when it seemed to get better. The whiplash from his unpredictable moods and personal attacks on you hurt as bad as it felt when he’d come around with endless apologies– accompanied by flowers, cuddles, and kisses– to heal each wound he was responsible for.
This time, though, the stab was fatal. This time, you bled out; it’d been akin to getting gutted and hung helplessly in front of your fucking family.
A sob snuck its way up your throat. You choked it down, willing your fist to reach up and knock on the door. You didn’t understand why this was next to impossible. Steve was your best friend. It wasn’t like he was a stranger. It wasn’t like he’d chastise you or yell at you or tell you to fuck off. Yet, there was a fear, deep down, feeding on the anxiety and self-doubt in the pit of your stomach, telling you the opposite; it whispered to you, telling you to run back to your car, scream into the steering wheel, and speed off to disappear from everything and everyone for just a little longer. It’d only be until you got your head on straight, until you figured out what to do with the apartment and your classes and your stuff and–
Knock. knock. knock.
In the blur of a million thoughts racing through your mind, you automatically reached up and weakly knocked, body tensing every muscle as you waited.
The door swung open, revealing one extremely concerned Steve Rogers.
Steve panted, a result from sprinting down the stairs from his upstairs bedroom in an attempt to open the back door by your first knock. Acutely aware of his jaw hanging from its hinges, Steve’s soft baby blues bore into you, scanning you up and down, stunned at you and your dress and how desperate you looked.
Time stopped the second you saw him; it was difficult to describe, but everything magnetizing between the two of you was different. You felt different– different in the way he was familiar and somehow new at the same time. Steve felt different– different in the way you were single for the first time in two years and he was single since… forever ago.
This time was unlike the million other times.
You both stared. Your lips quivered, his parted in disbelief. Both your minds instantly went blank, unable to think of anything to say, to do. So, the sky thought for you. It opened its floodgates, releasing a torrential downpour as you stood inches from warmth, from comfort.
“Steve,” you croaked, reaching for him.
It was then, everything came crashing down.
You crumbled to the ground in a heap, knees buckling while your hand and arms braced for impact with the ground. Steve quickly abandoned his tight grip on the doorframe, catching you, helping you inside. Lungs gasped for air as heavy sobs poured from your chest and tears flowed steadily down your face. You pawed at Steve’s arm hooked around you as he stumbled back into the house, kicking the door closed and collapsing onto the kitchen floor with you in tow. He immediately pulled you closer and hugged you tightly against his chest. You heaved, crying out from the painful pit in your heart, digging your fingers into his flesh, hard enough to bruise. You buried your face into his t-shirt and bawled.
All of it– the rage, the hurt, the mess of balled-up emotions from the last two fucking years– came unraveled. Hands twisted into Steve’s t-shirt, balling the fabric and pulling it taut enough to rip.
Steve didn’t shout. He didn’t complain. He didn’t utter a single word as he leaned against the kitchen cabinets, rocking you gently, squeezing you harder as his chest rose and fell rhythmically against your pounding skull, silently coaxing you to follow his breathing. Blubbering in his lap, stringing words together became futile as thoughts became unrecognizable. Another wave of panic and anxiety crashed over you. Steve’s mumbled shushes softened you; the deep timbre and honeyed bass of his voice and vibrations in his chest grounded you, welcoming you to safety. To home.
“Shh… don’t worry, I got you. I have you. You’re okay,” he muttered, running a hand gently up and down your back.
“I–he–bu–” you fumbled, lip quivering as another sob overtook you. Rage clawed at the walls in the chasm of your chest. You screamed. Guttural, pained. Again. And again.
“Shh… it’s okay, let it out. You’re okay. You’re safe here,” he soothed, rocking you, adding in a lowered octave, “I’m here.”
“T–Tony,” you hiccuped, fists twisting more of Steve’s t-shirt. “He–he–”
“What, angel? What about Tony?”
“He–he c–called me n–names a–and,” you shook your head violently, “he b-broke up with me. For real, this time.”
Steve cupped your cheek, softly wiping away fresh tears with calloused fingertips. While you continued to cry in his arms, his focus turned to the back door you tumbled through. Inside, he seethed; his rage nearly boiled over at the thought of anyone doing this to you, let alone Tony fucking Stark. Out of all the things you’d told him over the last couple years– all the threats, the cruel jokes and abandonment and insults– tonight was the ultimate cherry on top. It validated every time Tony’s actions made Steve think vengeful thoughts on what he’d do if he ever got five minutes with the douchebag. Just five minutes. Alone.
He shook the thought away, looking back down to you. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him upset, let alone remotely think you were the cause of it. He’d promised himself that the first time you met.
Tony was going to fucking pay for what he’d done to you every single second for the last two years. And on your birthday, for chrissake.
“What–” Steve swallowed the excess rage in his chest. “What kind of names, sweetie?”
You softened, sniffling, refusing to look at him. “He called me a b–bitch, a–and,” you bit your tongue, “a… cunt.”
The moment the word left your lips, Steve fought every last nerve in him not to put you to bed, get in his car, and go teach Tony a lesson on some fucking manners. Hell, even the idea of taking Bucky and Sam crossed his mind.
He pushed the thought away, focusing back on you. You needed him. You came to him for help. No one else but him.
Steve slid his hand off your back and placed it under your chin, thumb and forefinger gently coaxing you to look at him. Big blue eyes swam with concern and worry. In the dark of the kitchen, they seemed brighter than ever– a beacon guiding you back from the hurricane in your head.
In an instant, everything in your head went quiet. No more muffled echoes from the phone call. No more sobs readying to burst out your chest. No more caring about how swollen and puffy your eyes were, or the drying combination of mascara and tear stains running down your cheeks and neck. Your sopping wet dress that drenched the floor, and Steve, was pushed to the back of your brain, the cold no longer leaking into your bones as he brought you back down from the ledge.
All you saw was Steve. All you smelled, all you could feel, was Steve.
Steve swallowed. His jaw slacked, tongue jutting out to wet his lips, slowly drinking you in for as long as he was able.
And honestly? You couldn’t care enough to stop him. It’d been so long since someone looked at you the way Steve did.
Had he always looked at you like that?
“Listen to me. You are none of those things. Not even close,” he whispered, hoping you believed him.
You nodded lightly. “I–I know, but it hurts,” your voice cracked again, eyes drifting away from him.
“Hey, look at me,” he tugged at your chin, “you will never be anything like he says you are. Ever. Okay?”
You stared at him. A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you placed a hand on his, taking it from your chin to your chest. Warmth bloomed as it rested against your damp skin.
“‘Kay.” Barely a whisper. Enough for only him to hear.
He paused, gaze holding steady on you, lips twitching at the corners.
“Let’s get you up ‘n out of that thing, yeah?” He nodded to your dress. “You gotta be freezing.”
Gently, he lifted you off his lap, rising from the kitchen floor and pulling you up on your feet. Your legs felt like a wobbly blend of jelly and nerves that forced you to lean onto Steve for support. He anticipated this, catching you and gripping your shoulders. You didn’t say a word. Instead, you clung to him as he guided you through the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. You passed by Sam and Bucky’s rooms, both empty for the night, just like Natasha’s downstairs.
As Steve rifled through his drawers and closet, your focus wandered to his messy desk: the lamp cast a soft, warm glow across the room, sitting next to history books and sketchbooks stacked high on top of one another; pencils and dirtied paint brushes littered the surface, products of his latest art assignment. His bed was half-made, dark green covers on one side neatly tucked in while the opposite was thrown aside, exposing gray pinstripe sheets. The walls were covered with scattered art– some his, others his favorite artists’– posters and pictures of family, friends, and some local bands. You bit back a smile. Memories of the shows you both went to over the last few years played like a highlight reel in your mind. You never regretted it; you never passed up a single invite, even after the time Tony locked you out for a whole weekend.
“Here, these are clean,” he handed you a neatly folded pile of his clothes before adding, “I promise.”
A fuller smile broke across your face. The first of the entire night.
“Uh huh, sure, I believe you,” you joked sarcastically. He feigned hurt, scoffing at your false accusation.
“I did the sniff test, if that makes you feel any better.”
You giggled, taking the clothes from him and turning to head to the bathroom.
“I’ll be down in the kitchen,” he called after you. “You, um, you want something to drink?”
You paused, turning to look at him from the bathroom doorway halfway down the hall. From where he stood, the saturated pink creeping up his neck and reaching his face was more visible than the light on his desk. You couldn’t help but hold in a snicker and flash him a relieved smile, thankful.
“Coffee would be a godsend, right now.”
Steve smiled, saluting you. “Coming right up.”
You headed into the bathroom, tossing the clothes onto the counter, slumping against the door the second you shut and locked it. Finally relaxing, you realized how much tension was pent up in your tired shoulders– which, in turn, prompted the realization you were holding your breath the entire time in Steve’s room.
Brushing the self-induced lightheadedness, you slipped the ruined dress off your body and hung it up on the shower rod. You hated the color, the texture, but wore it anyway. For Tony. On your birthday.
You cursed yourself, pulling your bra off next– a pushup that held your rib cage hostage the entire night. Just how Tony likes it.
Or, liked it.
You silently prayed Steve included some Bailey’s in your coffee.
Pulling on Steve’s sweatshirt, the scent of him enveloped you instantly. You couldn’t help but nuzzle into the neck of it, filling your lungs with the familiarity of Steve. He was a quiet, sunny Sunday morning and freshly brewed coffee. He was a nice night in watching your favorite movies and playing cards.
Your head was swimming, swirling, caught up in the entirety of your best friend. He was yours just as much as you were his. Through Tony, through other guys you’d subjected yourself to the last few years, none of them compared to Steve.
You tugged the sweatpants on, catching sight of yourself in the mirror and realizing the runny makeup staining your face. You snorted at how fucking ridiculous you looked, remembering the caked-on layers you’d put on for the evening. Again, just for Tony. The snort turned into a giggle, utterly grateful for Steve not making fun of how you looked and for ignoring the mascara stains on his poor t-shirt from earlier.
But, again, it was Steve. He’d never make fun of you. Ever.
Butterflies– the ones you’d thought were long gone months prior– stuttered suddenly, alive and fluttering in your stomach.
You instantly recognized the feeling: it was the same you had the day you met Steve.
The same feeling you’d get on roller coasters, or reading an exceptionally good romance novel. Giddiness, dizziness. It was as if you were spinning while the room stood still. Your head felt light, high on helium. Your skin burned. Meeting your own gaze in the mirror, you scanned yourself, the question ‘is this happening right now?’ running on a loop at the forefront of your mind.
Bzzt.
You jumped at the buzz of a text. With the trance broken, you took into account your shaking hands and the bumping tempo of your heart. Turning on the sink, you made sure the water was as cold as possible before cupping some in your hands and splashing your face. Refreshing. Needed. You rubbed the rest of the runny wakeup off your skin, stuffing your face into the fluffy hand towel and silently promising to get the boys a new one. Picking up your phone, teeth chewed on cheek to hold in your smile at the sight of Steve’s name on the screen.
⍟ Steve: You doing OK? Coffees ready
You looked at yourself in the mirror.
“You got this,” you told your reflection. “He’s only your best friend.”
The butterflies continued to multiply, bumping against one another, fluttering and escaping out into your chest and your limbs.
“Fuck.”
You opened the door.
⋆˙ઇଓ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
“I was beginning to think you climbed out the window up there,” Steve quipped upon seeing you round the corner into the kitchen. He couldn’t help the stupid grin spreading across his face when he saw you in his clothes. You looked more relaxed, more comfortable.
More like you.
You noticed he changed, too, donning a heather-gray t-shirt that clung to his torso in all the right ways– ways you hadn’t noticed before.
You mentally scolded yourself.
“A–Almost. But I’d never pass up a cup of world-famous Rogers Roast.”
“Wow, world-famous? I would’ve preferred universally-renowned, but I’ll take it.” He held a mug out to you, one faded with a ‘I ❤ New York’ logo– the one you’d gotten for him during your senior-year college internship. “Made it just how you like it.”
He paused as you took a sip. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you, biting his lip in anticipation as you drank. The coffee tasted like liquid gold, warm and comforting and all-around delicious. You didn’t care if you burnt your tongue. This was what you needed.
He was what you needed.
Was he?
You looked back up at Steve. His cheeks flushed as he pressed his lips together, entranced with the mug in your hands, eyes ever-so-slightly flitting from it to your lips and back again.
“Thank you, Stevie.”
“You’re welcome, angel.”
You pinched yourself, then took another sip.
Silence fell, comfortable and calm, as you both nursed your drinks, checking your phones and letting time pass. You didn’t care to check the clock.
Steve cleared his throat and set his phone down.
“So, um,” he began. “What else did you have planned for your birthday?”
His voice was low, tender, careful with the question so as not to upset you. He was curious, however, and determined to see exactly how much Tony fucked up your night.
And your life.
“Oh,” you swallowed, chewing your lip in an attempt to remember what you’d originally planned.
“He was, ah, gonna take me dancing. After dinner, after he,” you took an unsteady breath, “after he met my family. It was the one thing he told me he'd let me do after dinner.” You shook your head, adding under your breath, “besides him.”
Tension seeped into the space between you both. You didn’t want to meet Steve’s stare; it was the one you’d always see whenever you told him about Tony, one filled with anger so palpable it made his arms flex subconsciously, one he thought he hid well enough so you never saw, but you always did. Without looking up, you already knew his jaw was clenched and his shoulders were stiff and his eyes bored a hole into the wall behind you. Butterflies started to somersault, crashing into the waves of worry and anxiety.
“Why?”
You looked up. Blue eyes. Stormy, swirling, stubborn.
“What?”
“Why did you stay with him?” Steve asked steadily, voice barely above a whisper. His Adam’s apple bobbed.
You paused. “Because he wouldn’t let me leave.”
“I could’ve helped you. We could’ve helped you,” he gestured vaguely to the rest of the house.
Your teeth tore into your bottom lip. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
“I–” Steve sighed and carded a hand through his dirty blond hair, frustrated, trying to keep his promise while also appealing to you and balancing the fragile tightrope you two stood on. “I care about you, angel. I care about you so fuckin’ much. I just wanna know why. Why he was– why you were–”
“I–” Don’t fucking cry. “I was trapped. Every time I tried to leave, he’d tie me down more. It… it wasn’t as easy as you fucking think, Steve. Rose-colored glasses, wool over my eyes, wolf in sheep's clothing, that sorta thing, ya know? These last couple years, I… I don’t know why tonight was it, and I don’t know how I was able to get out, and I just… I don’t fucking know. I don’t. I–”
You felt tears again.
“I– Angel, I wasn’t trying to–”
“No, I know,” you cut him off, setting down your mug to rub your face in your hands. “I know. But I need you to understand that I– God, my fucking brain feels so scrambled. I just feel so confused, I feel like I’m going insane right now. Fuck!”
You tried to calm down, taking deep breaths to feed your strained lungs, holding on to each before exhaling. In, hold, out, repeat.
The room was spinning again, whirling around like a sick carnival ride as your center of gravity began to give.
As you braced the counter, strong hands and warm, muscular arms engulfed you, lifting you back from the countertop and guiding you into the middle of the kitchen. Steve pressed into you until you relented, reaching your arms around him and pulling him closer. The tension in your shoulders melted, migrating to your chest where your heart surged the moment he touched you, where it pounded against your sternum, threatening to break out of its marrow cage. You inhaled him, savoring him, feeling him all around you.
Slowly, delicately, Steve unwrapped from you. He was careful with every touch, as if he would shatter you– even though he had no problem with putting you back together again. He’d done it a million times before, and he’d do it a million times again.
He’d do it all again for you.
Steve carefully slid your hands from around his center, placing one onto his shoulder, then– nervously and ever-so-slowly– he held your other hand out, sliding down your forearm and entwining his fingers into yours. His free hand fell softly onto your waist, fingers absently and lightly kneading the fabric and skin underneath his palm.
“May I have this dance?” he whispered.
You looked up from the floor to Steve, speechless. You nodded.
Then, he started to sway. He guided you both, rocking side to side to an unheard rhythm and subtly spinning in unison under the soft glow of the kitchen light.
He smiled softly, boyish and genuine, with admiration and tenderness in his eyes. Something gentle and kind, something about the feeling and the familiarity of it– of him– sank into you the longer you looked at him. Your focus shifted around the features of his chiseled face. You recognized the light freckles stippled across his nose and cheeks leftover from the summer; the scar on his earlobe from the night Natasha drunkenly dared you to pierce his ear and failed; the faint worry lines sculpted into his forehead he inherited from his father; the soft, full pink of his lips that innocently parted when you caught him staring at you.
It was the feeling that felt foreign to you; the one missing from your life after the last two years. But, it wasn’t missing. It had been right in front of you the entire time stealing glances, accidental touches, and irreplaceable memories.
Steve had been there.
Steve had been the one looking at you like that for the last two years.
He wasn’t missing. He was just waiting his turn.
And, judging by the realization that washed over your face, his waiting was over.
Steve's smile widened as he squeezed your waist, wordlessly confirming the thoughts running rampant in your head. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the ghost of a cry, blinking away tears forming in the corners of his vision.
Your lips trembled as you smiled back. Slowly, you snaked your hand from his shoulder to his cheek and cupped his face. He leaned into your touch instantly, stubble and skin rubbed against your palm as he kissed it lightly. The press of his lips sent a spark coursing through your veins, electrifying your body and the air around you. The two of you continued to sway while the kitchen spun faster, a blurred whirlwind while you both remained in focus.
“When?” you asked, voice barely audible.
“Since the day I met you.”
“Why didn’t you–”
Steve shrugged. “I wanted to get to know you first. Didn’t wanna be some random dude who just wanted you for your number. You seemed too special to rush into something. Still are,” he sighed. “I wanted to be your friend first, but before I could muster up some courage, Tony swept you out from under me.”
Guilt crawled up your throat. “I– I’m sorry, Stevie.”
He stepped away from you, twirling you, then dragged you back to him. You could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating.
“No, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I promise. I–” his voice broke. “I wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. I just– I wish I did more for you. I should’ve done more for you.”
He tilted his head to the ceiling trying to stop his tears from falling, but you pulled him right back down to you.
“Steve,” you started, keeping on his baby blues while your own voice struggled to remain steady, “you’ve done more for me than anyone else in the entire world. Hell, in my entire life. I just lost the last two years of my life suffering with someone I thought I loved. Who I thought loved me.”
You brought your other hand to his face. “You did all you could. I just… I thought it was gonna get better, you know? I thought, I hoped– God, I even fucking prayed– that he’d get better, but he didn’t. Nothing did. And I couldn’t find a way out. It’s like he conditioned me to believe he was the only one I had, like, he was the only one who’d ever save me.”
Steve frowned, but nodded in understanding.
“I’m glad you came to me. Not just tonight, but every night. It was like reassuring me that I didn’t totally lose you, or like I never totally lost you.”
“You’ll never lose me, Stevie.”
His face, red-hot underneath your touch, moved closer to yours. You couldn’t tell if you were pulling or he was pushing. His hands gripped your waist the tighter you held his face, the two of you crashing into one another in slow-motion. The light above you grew brighter, the humming of the appliances was getting louder, the room spun at an infinitely unfathomable speed.
You crashed together.
Soft lips– softer than either of you could’ve ever pictured feeling– fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces. Neither of you moved, staying locked together until your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer and smashing his nose into your cheek. His grip became bruising as his fingers kneaded into your waist, steadying himself with your hips. You felt another surge of electricity as his tongue jutted out, parting your lips and swiping along the bottom before retreating back behind his.
He tipped you backwards on your heel, smirking against your lips as you flinched and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.
Setting you upright, he pulled away from the kiss and whispered, “I’ll never let you go.”
“Never?”
“Ever.”
You kissed him again, and the butterflies went wild.
#dancing in the kitchen#jen writes#fluff#angst#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x f!reader#captain america x reader#college!au#modern!au#college!steve#modern!steve#modern!steve rogers#steve rogers fluff#captain america x f!reader#curvy!reader#best friend!steve rogers#best friend! reader#cap quartet au#chris evans#chris evans characters#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers onshot#steve rogers imagine#protective!steve rogers#slightly posessive!steve rogers
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2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 3
masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - completed
All of them are COMPLETE Series.
1. Galavano by @ichorai
Bucky x Reader
a series that follows the hero galvano through the events of the mcu!
2. Time (D)rift by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor
Dark!Bucky x Reader Apocalypse AU
The end has come and gone as you keep waiting for your own.
3. Uncontrollable by @fictional-affairs
Bucky x Widow!Reader
The year is 1992. The Winter Soldier is under HYDRA’s control, and the Red Widow is under Dreykov’s control, but when they find out their organizations are working together to have them kill each other, they decide to make a deal.
4. The Lake House by @rustytricycle
Dark!Bucky x Dark!Reader
You decide to spend the summer before Freshman year of college with two of your girlfriends at one of their parents’ lake house. It turns out that Captain America and his two best friends are staying next door. Bucky thinks you might be his perfect girl. But are you too perfect?
5. turn a blind eye by @sergeantxrogers
Bucky x Reader
The Winter Soldier was cold. Brutal. Unflinching. A machine formulated to comply. Bucky Barnes was the sun warming your skin, your happy pill. Loving him was like bittersweet liquor, sickeningly sweet when you sip, harsh and burning when you swallow.
6. Rooftop Sessions by @forever-rogue
Bucky x Therapist!Reader
Y/N is a therapist that works with war veterans that ends up meeting a mysterious stranger who asks for her help.
7. it’s all fun and games, until you catch feelings by @prettyyoungtragedy
Bucky x Reader
You’re pining after Steve and Bucky is pining after Nat, what better way to distract yourself from those two perfect humans than to distract yourselves with each other?! Fuck buddies it is then.
8. oh my delightful heart by @prettyyoungtragedy
Sequel to it’s all fun and games
Bucky Barnes is the sweetest dumbest most adoring boyfriend any girl could ever ask for...
9. Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel ✨
Bucky x Reader
You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.
10. The Maid of Mr. Barnes by @disasterofastory
Mob!Bucky x Reader
You get a job as Mr. Barnes's maid. You heard about the notorious gangster, but since you desperately need money and a place to live, you are not in a position to be picky.
11. Guiding Light by @wkemeup ✨
Bucky x Avenger!Reader
It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.
12. Home | Better by @softlyspector ✨
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
Bucky comes home from his second tour overseas, after a long time away from the reader.
13. Mad For You by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
Nat hosts a costume masquerade. Bucky meets the Alice to his Hatter. Shenanigans ensue.
14. Sanguis Sanguinis Mei by @captainscanadian
Vampire!Bucky x Vampire!Reader
It took Bucky Barnes two centuries with the blood of his blood to realize how much he loved her. This is their story.
15. Another World by @sinner-as-saint
Alien!Bucky x Reader
In a futuristic world - a millennium from now, you and your team rescue and care for stranded and hurt otherworldly beings; who are held captive and kept on Earth against their wills. You save them from the bad guys who exploit them. You help them adjust to your planet’s life, and give them their freedom back. Then one day, while on a rescue mission, you come across a human-like extraterrestrial being; in a cryogenic chamber, with a missing arm. And nothing is ever the same again…
16. Picking Up The Pieces by @gogolucky13
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
Bucky chooses to stay in his tumultuous relationship knowing you’ll be there to pick up the pieces, until finally you’re not.
17. Knight In Rusty Armor by @revengingbarnes ✨
Knight!Alpha!Bucky x Queen!Omega!Reader
For the sake of politics and to get rid of you, their omega daughter, the King and Queen of England marry you off to the King of France. Settling into an unfamiliar monarchy is a tedious process all by itself, but a new problem arises soon after your arrival at your new home. One of the Knights turns out to be your true mate. Your Alpha. The one you are meant to be with. But you’re mated to someone else. And that someone else is the King of France.
18. The Escaped Bride by @marvelouslytrekking
Pirate!Bucky x Reader
Being forced to marry someone was not something you wanted, but when it turns out that it is to your best friend, who you secretly loved, things weren’t so bad. Unfortunately, good things don’t seem to last and when the worst happens, you refuse to sit around and be miserable. Will you find true love again, or will your life be turned upside down?
19. Plot Twist by @winterarmyy
Mafia!Bucky x Reader
An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.
20. The Road Goes Ever On and On by @rocketrhap3000 ✨
Bucky x Single Mom!Reader
Life as a single mother of a three year old certainly has its struggles. But when a sweet stranger makes his way into you and your little boy’s life, a one of a kind connection sparks.
21. you’re my desire by @marvelouslizzie & @notafunkiller
40s!Bucky x Reader
Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers’ date but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes’ arms.
22. Death Do Us Part by @sgtjbuccky ✨
God Of Death!Bucky x Mortal!Reader
For centuries, the God of Death had known two things about mortals. One, they were his job, his to collect when their days came to an end, and two, they were obnoxiously odd beings. Their purpose ceased to make sense to him. Never did he understand why they created a life for themselves, why they loved, why they loved other mortals when they knew that none of it would last forever. It was nothing but sheer stupidity, but that was until he met you. A mortal unlike any other. A mortal that would make him question everything. A mortal that would teach the God of Death how to live.
23. Lost In Each Other by @majestyeverlasting ✨
Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader
For Bucky, one of the best things to come home to is family. Especially after a day at work. So he's pleasantly surprised when you want to show him a new dress after dinner one night. And it just so happens that little Eden and Jamie find a way to work themselves into the equation. But it all makes for good fun and memories you will never forget.
24. Fight For Me by @littleseasiren
Bucky x Reader
After years in an abusive relationship, you finally get out. When the Avengers decide to raise awareness for your Battered Women's Home, you bump into Bucky Barnes, the hottest, most complicated man you've ever met. He thinks you're too good for him, but when your abusive ex reappears, Bucky knows he has to keep you safe - by any means necessary.
25. call me baby by @cherryrogers ✨
Biker!Bucky x Reader
Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.
26. Static Verse by @theconstantsidekick ✨
Bucky x Enhanced!Reader
Tony Stark's sister's a fucking badass, codename—Static. Here's her story through the MCU.
27. Bygone by @borntobewondering
Bucky x Reader
You and Peter get sent back in time, and you fall in love with someone unexpected.
28. Clockwork by @aries-writingblog ✨
Bucky x Reader
Bucky has moved on. He’s found a place in the new world of the 21st Century. Found peace. But the past is always half a step behind him, waiting to snatch him backwards- like clockwork.
29. Deny the truth, set the world on fire by @lizatill
Bucky x Reader, Dark!Winter Soldier x Reader
He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember.
30. Carnations by @viollettes
Bucky x Reader College AU
It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?
#bucky barnes fic rec#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes smut#winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#winter soldier!bucky#bucky barnes x widow!reader#dark!bucky#soft dark!bucky#dark!bucky x dark!reader#bucky barnes fake dating#mob!bucky x reader#vampire!bucky#alpha!bucky x omega!reader#knight!bucky#knight!bucky x queen!reader#pirate!bucky#mafia!bucky#mob!bucky#beefy!bucky#40s!bucky#bucky barnes 40s au#dad!bucky x mom!reader#dad!bucky#bucky barnes college au
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Steve dies the night of his 24th birthday.
His friends had thrown him a surprise party at Nancy's apartment. Argyle had given him a 'birthday joint', the kids had all shouted surprise, and he'd had a minor breakdown in the bathroom about turning twenty-four. He'd had a good night, drunk too much, and on his way home he's hit by a taxi, killing him instantly.
Steve opens his eyes to see his reflection staring back. He's in Nancy's bathroom again. His face is dripping cold water from the water he's just splashed on it. His heart is racing, the vision of the taxi clear in his mind.
He's alive, though. He's here. He leaves the bathroom and finds Dustin there, again, impatiently waiting for his input on some argument about Star Wars.
He writes it off as a weird high. Who knows what Argyle had put in the joint?
Then he dies again. Not a taxi, this time. He'd avoided the taxi. No, this time, he drowns.
He comes to in Nancy's bathroom again.
And again. And again. And again.
At first, he thinks it must be the joint fucking with him. Some new strain of weed he hasn't tried before, something that doesn't sit well with him. The more he dies, the more he keeps finding himself in that bathroom, he starts thinking otherwise.
Truthfully, he thinks he's losing his mind. Especially when he keeps dying on the goddamn stairs.
In any other scenario, it would be funny, the amount of different ways he's discovered he can die. He takes the window out of the apartment instead of braving the stairs. Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin—none of them are experiencing what he is. None of them remember reliving the evening over and over. They look at him with concern, like they think he's having a mental breakdown, like he's crazy.
Steve's lived thirty different Thursdays when he reaches Friday. He's ecstatic. He managed not to die. The curse is finally, finally, broken.
He's meant to meet Dustin at the mall. He's in the elevator with a handful of other people when the lights flicker. He looks up, hearing a loud groaning noise, and then they're plummeting.
Chaos breaks out. There's four other people with him: two of them are screaming, clinging to one another, a third is sobbing hysterically, and the fourth...
The fourth doesn't react at all. She stares ahead, past the others, and she looks bored.
"Hey, didn't you get the news?" Steve asks. She glances at him, and he notes that she's got more freckles than he's ever seen on someone. "We're about to die."
"Doesn't matter," the woman says. She's twisting a silver ring around her middle finger. "I die all the time."
He stares at her, stunned. He opens his mouth—
and comes to in Nancy's bathroom. It's Thursday, September 27th, again.
But.
Maybe there's someone else out there going through what he's going through. A tall, freckled woman he's pretty sure he's never seen before and doesn't know anything about, except that she possibly dies in Starcourt Mall on a Friday.
He has to find her.
#st russian doll au#stranger things#steve harrington#robin buckley#stobin#platonic stobin#my writing#writing#st fic
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I want Steve to find out about the simultaneous games that happened at the beginning of season 4.
That Eddie insisted that the hellfire session went on as scheduled, despite the fact that Lucas wouldn't be able to make it.
Lucas, one of Steve's kids, who Steve had defended from being beaten up, putting himself in the line of fire from that racist asshole Billy Hargrove.
Lucas, who had been pushed aside and alienated from his longtime friends just because he also liked sports and wanted to try and remain afloat in the ocean of high school.
Lucas, who loved his friends and and enjoyed different things, because spoiler alert you can in fact be a jock and like Dungeons and Beasts or whatever the hell it was called. Steve enjoyed Star Wars and could dunk, proof right there.
But all it took was one word from Eddie, and Dustin and Mike not only didn't go to Lucas's game, but they couldn't even be happy for him about the championship AND their final session of their long-term campaign went on as scheduled despite the absence of the oldest Sinclair.
Sure Jason Carver turned out to be a crazy asshole but Steve knew exactly how it felt to be caught between worlds and the biggest difference was that Lucas had always been a good person.
Unlike him.
One nice thing about his King Steve days was that he knew how to push, and he could turn it on for a day, just to knock some sense into a certain curly haired metal head.
"Hang back a sec man," Steve says almost casually as they exit Eddie's van after pulling into the movie theater. The kids tumble out of the open doors and race towards the building, pushing each other in their hurry to get in line for the second running of Highlander.
"What's up Stevie?" Eddie says, his dimpled grin comes out in full force as he looks Steve up and down, leaning back again the front of the vehicle grill. His arms cross loosely over his Black Sabath shirt and the various rings and chains sparkle in the high afternoon sun. He looks great today.
Focus Steve.
He clears his throat and sighs, trying to get into the heads pace from earlier when he initially found out what happened from Dustin. He had been absolutely furious.
But the flame of righteous fury had dissipated, leaving behind a cold feeling of disappointment in Eddie. It hung heavy and immovable in his chest, he needed to talk to him.
"Hey uh, I heard about the championship game man, Lucas's game".
Eddie tilts his head slightly, his brown doe eyes scanning Steve's face with confusion.
"What the basketball game back in March? That was like six months ago man? What about it?"
"Did you ever apologize to Lucas?" Steve asks, he keeps his face neutral, not wanting to influence the answer as Eddie scoffs. Not a great sign.
"For what Harrington?" And that stings a little, he'd been Stevie for the last two months or so, sometimes a Honey or Sweetheart thrown into the mix and Steve felt that they were barreling their way towards something new.
Steve swallows, he can't let this go, not even for Eddie.
"It was a shit thing to do man, to not let Lucas play and to not let Dustin and Mike go to support him--"
"Those kids know that the campaign comes first, that's the first tenant of Hellfire and they know that going in!" Eddie snarls, he steps forward towards Steve who holds his ground with narrowed eyes.
Fine.
"I thought you were above that sort of thing Munson, judging people for the things they like? Assuming things about a person and writing them off".
Eddie stops, his face paling slightly, his angry expression flickers once but remains in place as he crosses his arms again.
"Those games can't be rescheduled man," Steve continues with a shake of his head, "it's not even the school that decides the schedule for the season, it's the districts and the coaches, and who fucking cares if he was on the bench for most of the season? Because he played! And none of you were there".
Steve sighs and runs a tired hand over his face, "Not even his friends who he has known since pre-school. And with Will gone and Max dealing with all that shift from Starcourt and Vecna it was just the three of them, and you took that from him man".
Eddie stares at him, he says nothing, he doesn't even look like he's breathing right now and Steve feels like shit.
"I'm just saying, if you do that again, to any of them, to my kids," Steve says matter of factly, "then we'll have a problem".
"That supposed to be a threat, King Steve?" Eddie sneers at him, but his shoulders are dropping, and there is no true heat behind the words.
Steve shakes his head as Mike pops out of the double doors of the entrance and yells at the pair of them to, shit or get off the pot because what hell is taking them so long?
"No Eddie, it's not a threat because I'm hoping that you'll do the right thing. Because I know you love those kids and you're not an asshole".
He turns on his heel and heads towards the doors, leaving Eddie with the empty van. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, and the cold feeling in his chest spreads and spreads as he goes over the conversation again and again.
It stings a little to know that he's ruined whatever he had with Eddie but he couldn't let this go, friends don't lie after all.
He grabs their tickets, still buying one for Eddie --just in case, though the other man has not entered the building.
Steve tamps down the tight feeling of disappointment that grows the longer Eddie remains outside. If Eddie takes off, leaving them there, Steve can cover, he'll get Nancy to pick them up or maybe Jonathan --they're on better footing these days. He'll say Eddie had some kind of emergency come up, that Wayne needed him for something.
Yeah, friends didn't lie, but how could he break the kids' hearts like this?
They thankfully don't seem to pick up on this as they chatter about Sean Connery and what flavor of soda to get.
"Oh there you are dude! We thought you got kidnapped!" Dustin suddenly crows beside Steve, he turns to see Eddie behind him, a strange expression on his face.
Oh thank God.
"Nah, just had a quick smoke before the movie man, uh actually I wanted to borrow Lucas for a sec if that's cool?"
The kids look from Eddie to Steve, as though to check if he knows what's going on, Eddie hasn't been this shifty since March when Chrissy's death hit the news.
Steve nudges Lucas by the shoulder, leaning slightly down to say, "I'll grab your snacks, go on".
Lucas gives him a confused look over his shoulder before following Eddie outside the entrance the doors swing closed just as Dustin whirls on Steve.
"What the hell was that!" He demands with crossed arms and a scowl on his face, his blue eyes scanning Steve's own for something, some information about what is going on outside.
"Yeah, you guys are being weird," Mike snarks from over his shoulder, he's standing with Will and El who watch the interaction with curious eyes, "first you take forever to come in and now this?"
And so much for the kids not picking up on it.
"You guys are pretty nosy," Steve hums, deflecting with a small smile as he ruffles Dustin's curls and steps forward with the rest of the line.
Dustin glares with narrowed eyes and huffs, "Fine, I'll just ask Lucas about it".
Steve snorts, he isn't sure if the kids have even talked about it. They've all been friends long enough now that this one event wouldn't be enough to hurt this kind of friendship. But it's certainly been on Dustin's mind since he was the one to bring it up to Steve that morning.
"Good idea," Steve says with a smile as he steps up the the counter, he looks at the kids before smiling at the clerk, "okay what's everyone having, let her know".
***
The lights have dimmed and the pre-show has started by the time Eddie and Lucas make their way over to the seats Steve and the kids have saved. Steve hands Lucas his popcorn and soda, sprite and orange crush mixed, as he makes his way over to the empty seat beside Dustin. There is a wide smile on his face, and it startles Steve slightly as he realizes he hasn't seen Lucas with one around Eddie in months.
His heart hurts at the thought.
Eddie drops down beside Steve, blowing out a long slow sigh as he does.
He scrubs a pair of ringed hands over his face roughly before finally relaxing into the shitty theater seat and reaching over to snag a handful of popcorn from Steve's bag, spilling kernels all over the place.
Steve rolls his eyes and tips the bag closer to Eddie who immediately grabs a second handful.
Eddie is facing the screen, but his eyes are trained on the seat in front of him, the projection illuminates his face in whites, yellows, greens, and blues as the movie begins and Steve can't look away.
He eventually tips his face towards Steve, "You were right," Eddie murmurs before finally taking in the screen as he looks away again. Even though he's sitting nearly boneless and slumped in the seat, his shoulders are tense, upset.
Guilty.
"I'm glad," Steve whispers, and he is.
The icy feeling of disappointment that held his chest in a tight vice grip all morning finally loosens as he leans into the armrest and feels the warmth of Eddie's shoulder soak into his own.
"Thanks Steve," Eddie whispers, his warm breath ghosting over Steve's ear as leans closer, letting their hands brush in the darkness of the theater.
Steve closes his eyes, and lets himself bask in the warmth, even for just a moment.
#steve harrington#stranger things season 4#everyone lives#protective steve harrington#mom!steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie isn't a bad guy but it was pretty shit how he treated lucas in volume one#the party#pre steddie#dancing around one another#hurt feelings#slight angst#where is all this angst coming from???#I dont think steve would have been very happy if he had found out in the show that dustin and mike had ditched lucas#but they are teenages so they get a bit more of a pass when it comes to this sort of thing
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Moe and Steve have been at war (arguing about what to set the heat at in the winter) since the dawn of time (since Moe was tall enough to reach the thermostat). Steve has it set to a balmy 62°F from October through March and Moe takes every opportunity available to her to adjust it at least 10 degrees higher.
Steve: Stop touching my thermostat.
Moe: No! It’s fucking cold in here!
Steve: Put on a sweater.
Moe: I’m already wearing a sweater!
Finally, in 2018, it comes to a head when Moe finally ropes Hazel and Robbie into her crusade.
Hazel: Papa, it’s a little chilly.
Moe: And there’s loads of reasons why women feel the cold more than men
Steve: Says who?
Much to Steve’s chagrin, Moe produces three (3) scholarly sources discussing gender differences in thermoregulation.
Robbie: Get wrecked, Pop.
Moe: You and dad are outnumbered so it’s only fair that you cede to the majority.
Moe: And set the heat to 75
Steve: Uh, no. 75? Are you insane?
Steve: Also – I don’t know how you guys got under the impression that this is a democracy
Steve: This is a benevolent dictatorship at best, and until I see you helping pay the bills, that won’t be changing, so…
Steve: 65.
Moe: 72.
Steve: 68
Moe:
Moe: 68 during the day, 72 in the morning.
Steve: Deal.
*Cue a couple moments of sedate teenager-esque celebration*
Eddie, who had wisely remained a neutral party: Christ, Steve, she’s citing her fuckin’ sources and everything.
Robbie: Regretting having children yet?
Steve: No
Steve: Kind of regretting teaching you how to read though.
#when moe was little they used to say she read at a fifth-grade level and argued at a law-school level#steve still sets it to 62 during the day because nobody is home and nobody will know the difference except him and his electric bill#steddie#liv’s steddie dads verse#steddie dads#steve harrington#eddie munson
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DESERVE IT - PART FIVE
Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary: You and Javier are sent to a conversation with Messina who determines you get relocated to another department, which means you are drifting away from Javier even more and that makes your relationship even more complicated
Warnings: a tiny little bit of fluff in the beginning, mentions of smut, angst, jealousy, disappointment, kind of stalker!javi
A/N: I wasn't sure if Javi's boss would be Carrillo or Messina because honestly I didn't pay attention to the plot of Narcos at all, because I was busy with a slut agent and a certain drug dealer (yes Wagner Moura I am talking about you), so I just picked Messina because I guess she would handle the situation better
• PART ONE
• PART TWO
• PART THREE
• PART FOUR
5k words
You sat on the chair looking away as Murphy handcuffed Carlos and made sure he wasn't going anywhere.
Some other cops came over to find out what was happening but you just wanted to disappear from that place and never come back.
You couldn't leave, you would have to formally declare a statement explaining your side of the situation as you'd been attacked by a co-worker. Technically, according to the DEA and the Embassy rules you hadn't done anything wrong. What the agents did when they were off duty was none of their business and it didn't matter to them if you had set up for Carlos or if he was just unlucky to be caught by his wife during one of his escapades.
With the war against Pablo Escobar getting worse each day, the organs couldn't care less if an agent was having an affair.
However, they did care about agents attacking each other. That was why Carlos was immediately suspended and had to hand in his badge and gun, which made you more relieved than you'd like to admit. Now, you'd gotten away with the situation but Javier was still unclear of what was going on. He'd immobilized the attacker and saved the day, with a lot more violence and strength then required, he held him at gunpoint in front of an entire office and that was something that didn't weigh in his favor.
You both would have to talk to Messina later that day, but all you wanted was to go home and lock yourself up. You wanted to shower, change clothes and pretend that never happened, you began feeling sick, nausea and shivers traveled through your body. You hated how your emotional state affected your physical health. It'd always been like that: at the smallest sign of emotional inconvenience, your body would take a toll on it.
You rubbed your arms in order to warm up, as the tip of your fingers were ice cold but as someone had read your mind, a leather jacket had been placed on top of your back. You looked up and found Javier trying to make you wear his jacket.
He had a cup in his hand and he lowered himself "have this Y/N… I asked Colleen to make you some tea, your stomach is probably upset" he said with those stupid brown warm eyes "Messina wants to see us soon, so you gotta be alright, cariño" he cupped your cheek gently and got up again so he could handle Carlos with Steve's help.
Fuck Javier.
Fuck Javier Peña.
How dare he after all he did to you, after all he made you go through, after breaking your heart just try and sweet talk you with this cheap act of pretending to care?
Yes, he had saved you, and you were thankful to him, you were not an ungrateful little bitch, but he could have done his job without crossing any lines. Now he was offering you tea and jackets as if he cared, as if he hadn't treated you like a total stranger for the past month, after being so cruel and humiliating you like you never expected him to do.
You were not gonna let him win you over that fast, but first things first, you had an appointment with Messina that could cost a lot to you, maybe not your job, but if she decided to punish you somehow you'd be screwed.
Murphy walked to you and was just as gentle as Javi was and for a moment you almost felt sorry for giving him the cold shoulder, so you thanked him for his reassuring words
"We'll go to Messina's in a while, I just need to go to the bathroom first" you informed them and disappeared into it, locking the door and throwing some water onto your face.
You sighed deeply, watching your own reflection as you shook your head in disbelief at the warmth you felt between your folds.
For a second you had hopes your period had come unannounced so you got into the bathroom stall and pulled your panties down.
To say you were wet was an understatement.
You were soaked.
You couldn't believe yourself, you felt a mix of anger and shame at the realization Javier's display of protectiveness and violence turned you on. The way he just went all feral towards Carlos, punching him, using all his strength against him just to calm down and cold bloody point a gun at him, for you, was enough to have you like a little puta for Javier.
Maybe Carlos was right on one thing: you were a slut, too bad you were it for the wrong man.
If none of that shit had gone on between the two of you, you'd certainly spend the night alternating between sitting on his cock and sitting on his face as a thank you.
You felt your clit twitching at the thought and immediately pulled yourself together, getting decent again and washing your face once more, blocking these kinds of thoughts as best as you could.
•••
You and Javier were placed in front of Messina for the past hour. The two of you giving your own accounts of what had happened. She never interrupted you and eventually took notes here and there. You'd downed the third glass of water by then, feeling nervous at the whole situation. It felt like you were sent to the principal's office and while Javier handled the situation smoothly throwing his charms at her here and there, you were obviously tense.
The woman analyzed the situation carefully, she knew the behavior on all parts were extremely inadequate and even scolded you for coming up with your little devious plan. What agents and employees of DEA did in their free time was their business, but they expected those activities to not interfere in the daily routine of the investigations. You swore you had to bite your tongue so you wouldn't ask her the same applied to Javier using the contributors' money to pay for hookers with the horrible excuse of informative intel.
But you decided it would be best if you didn't make things worse than they already were.
Messina, on the other hand, was a powerful woman who had to struggle a lot to accomplish things and work twice as hard just because she was a woman. So she definitely knew what you went through with Carlos and though she couldn't really take sides, deep down she was satisfied with the lesson he learned.
She scolded Javier some more for his reckless actions and reminded him he had better ways to handle the situation, but when he promised he wouldn't do it again, she finished the meeting.
"Uh, Y/N… before you go, I must tell you your request to be transferred to another country was denied" you nodded shyly and saw when Javier's neck head snapped at you, shocked to hear you'd asked for a transfer, he swallowed and licked his lips, as he couldn't get his eyes off you, listening carefully as his heart raced and dropped at his toes to know you'd asked to leave the country.
"With this war we have going on against the narcos we can't afford losing any members of the team. You do a very good job and your reports are essential for us" she explained "however, with this situation, you will be assigned to another department, the lower floor, you can work for a couple of months in the crime division where things aren't as stressful as your current job is… it is temporary, just so the gossip dies and you find a break from all the stress" you nodded silently accepting her decision. On one hand you were disappointed to know you weren't leaving Colombia any sooner, on the other hand, you were thankful things went way better than expected, of course it was a demotion but you wouldn't have to work directly with Javier anymore.
You excused yourself and left her room, going outside the building as you pretended you didn't hear Javier's voice calling your name.
You stood at the sidewalk waiting for a chance to cross the street and felt his grip on your wrist, pulling you to him and making you look at him.
"Goddamn it Y/N, not even today you can actually look at me and talk to me?" He asked frustrated and pinched the bridge of his nose, when all he got from you was an eye roll.
"So you were just gonna flee the country and not tell anyone? One day I'd wake up to you gone? Is it because of me?"
You sighed and looked at him, feeling a mix of exhaustion, sadness and impatience.
"I hate my job, Javier. I hate the people I work with, I hate Colombia. I know I sound horrible when I say this, but I don't care about Escobar or what he does, I just stopped caring about all this, I just stopped and asked myself what I was doing with my life, I'm not happy here, not anymore, I have nothing to hold me back, so what's the point in staying anyway?"
He shook his head, he had no idea you felt like that, of course he knew he had hurt you, pretty bad, but not to that extent. He felt a wave of guilt and regret.
"But what about us, cariño?"
You smiled sadly "there is no 'us' Javi. There never was. Listen, I'm very thankful for what you did today, you saved me, you risked your physical integrity and your job just to make sure I was safe, but we can't pretend things haven't happened between us" you explained to him.
"Cariño, listen I want to apologize…"
"I don't wanna hear your apologies Javier, you don't mean them, it doesn't change how you feel about me, so let's just get over this okay? Eventually I'll leave Colombia hopefully it will be sooner than later and all this will be a fun story to tell your friends or something" you shrugged.
Javi didn't let go of your wrist, he looked into your eyes, searching for some kind of breach he could find affection or softness but there was nothing.
"No, you can't leave, I'll mi-"
"If you miss me you can just call that hooker I met the other night, she looks a lot like me, you won't even notice the difference"
You turned your back to him and walked away, leaving Javier standing there, watching you slip away from him even further.
•••
Your first day in the crime division started out great just by the fact you didn't have to see Colleen's stupid face. You didn't know why you began hating the woman, she hadn't done anything to you, in fact she'd always been kind of nice and very polite. But then, a memory hit you: the day Javier complimented her nails and how every week after that she would show up with a different nail polish, in hopes he'd pay attention to her again. Every time he took a coffee break she would be there, lingering around like a ghost until she would find a pathetic excuse to go and talk to him.
Then she would laugh too hard at his dumb jokes and would place her hand on his bicep, pretending it was an innocent touch.
You groaned annoyed at the sudden memory and at the fact you were actually caring about that, when you were literally not seeing them again. Of course you could still run into them in the building, and mostly run into Javier in your apartment building, but you would have a break from them from 9 to 5 and that was a good enough reason to be happy.
You shook your head clearing your mind and telling yourself you were just anxious about working in a new division. Of course your tasks would be the same, but out go Escobar's files and files and in come other police occurrences such as thefts and physical aggressions, mostly coming from drunk guys who always got into fights with each other, or so you've told.
You were so distracted you didn't see a tall figure approaching you, you only felt that figure when you bumped into him and almost lost your balance thanks to your high heels you put on earlier in the morning trying to cause a good impression.
Of course you never hit the ground because the figure held by the waist, preventing you from falling.
"Lo siento, señorita" he said and helped you up.
And then you looked at the mysterious figure.
He was taller than you, strong and had beautiful brown eyes. Not like Javi's, Javier's eyes were from a deep brown, they made you think of chocolate, hot chocolate in a cold morning to be more specific, but this guy… his eyes were light brown, the kind of color that shifts according to the lights of the room, making them even greenish, and the eyelashes were pretty long for a man, giving him an expressive look.
You were lost in his eyes. You fell for the stranger's eyes right there and then and your heart raced when you noticed he had his hand on your waist.
"You must be Y/N, I'm agent Manuel Herrera, but you can call me Manu if you want" he gave you a smile and you smiled back.
Manu explained you he was the one who was supposed to welcome you in the division but he ran late after a new case came up.
You assured him it was fine and thanked him when he led you to your desk, helping you empty your box and organize your working material.
"You know, Y/N, news travels fast here and we all know what happened to Carlos and rumor has it you were responsible for it" he saw how you blushed and though you didn't deny or nor confirm it, he could tell rumor was true. "Well, I just want you to say we are all relieved he's not around anymore, he was an unpleasant guy and especially the ladies in the office really appreciated what you did… or what you didn't do" he winked at you and excused himself.
And just like that, you realized you had a crush on Manu.
It happened fast, but it was so refreshing to know you could move on, you could get interested in other guys. He was nice, smart, painfully handsome and for the first time since you arrived in Colombia you hadn't thought of Javier's whereabouts or felt a pang of jealousy to wonder if he would pick up a girl at a bar for the night or just call a brothel and have his fuck delivered like chinese food.
After the first week, Manu gathered enough courage to invite you for lunch, he assumed you would just hang out from the DEA people, but when he saw you were about to stay at your desk during your lunch break, he invited you out.
First, he decided to take you to a small restaurant down the street, the food was good, the price was reasonable but having his company was better.
Then, the next day, he took you to a small place that sold the best arepas you'd eaten in your whole life.
Turns out, Javier really liked Arepas and he decided to have some for lunch, but when he was about to step inside he saw you had another guy. He thought he'd seen the man before but he couldn't remember exactly when, he knew he was a cop, but he just hadn't paid attention, unlike you who had been clearly paying a lot of attention to him.
Javi felt his blood boiling at how beautiful you looked when you smiled at him and kept telling him whatever you were so passionately talking about. He hadn't seen you since the day at the Embassy, of course he'd caught glimpses of you leaving the building or arriving when he was still in his car. He'd heard you at home, dragging your furniture around for your monthly clean up, or when you put on some record and probably spent the evening singing along. The smell of your cooking almost every damn night taunting him but none of that was worse than when he caught just a whiff of your perfume in the hallway.
It was the worst part to him, because it reminded him you were still there, across the hall, a few meters away from him, and yet you were no longer in his life. As if you were just a memory, a ghost of his past, you were so out of reach it broke his heart.
And when he saw you smiling at that guy just like you used to smile at him, it gutted him.
He turned around before either of you could spot him and walked back to his car.
Javier couldn't believe that. You were really going on lunch dates with that guy? Sure he was attractive, he figured, but didn't you like him? Then why were you out with that guy?
It just didn't make sense to him, he didn't want to believe you'd actually move on from him. Javi hadn't really thought of the future, he knew the healthiest for you would actually move on, you deserved someone good for you, someone who could make you happy, who could treat you like you deserved being treated, someone that could give you a relationship where you loved and you were loved, where you could trust your partner, where you could have a family, get married, have kids, not someone who would screw things up in the first opportunity.
But it stung.
Javier had no idea it would sting that bad. Saying had always been easier than doing, and while he kept that protective speech over you, things were alright, but the moment the possibility of it becoming true was presented before his eyes, god, that hurt.
He was at a loss of actions, he didn't know what to do or what to say. The rest of the afternoon he spent off his game, with Murphy having to repeat himself over and over, Javi asking the same questions, dropping his pen, fuck, he even spilled his coffee once. Because all he could think of was you.
He decided to leave early and wait around until it was time for you to go home, feeling a pang in his chest when he spotted the guy, Manu, he soon afterwards learned, walking you home.
He hated that scene but he also couldn't look away, you seemed so happy, you talked and smiled like you hadn't done it for months, like you hadn't done since he screwed things up.
And for the next few days that was what his routine turned into.
Javier would wake up early and watch you go to work, then he would take the stairs to the lower floor when it was lunchtime and watch from afar as you and Manu went for lunch together, then when you would come back, usually with a popsicle or a lollipop in hands, a treat he always got you for dessert. On the weekends he would watch through the window as you went out, knowing you were out to meet him. It was a habit that was consuming him, it left a bitter taste in his mouth, it was like smoking a cigarette, no matter how harmful it was to him, he just couldn't stop.
He only convinced himself it was time to let go when he saw Manu kissing your lips in front of the apartment building. He wanted to yell, to drag you away from him, to make you understand you shouldn't be with that guy, you should be with him, but he couldn't. There was nothing he could do about it, he had lost you for good, he knew that, so he grabbed his wallet, his car keys and drove downtown. He parked in front of the brothel he knew so well and walked to the reception.
"Quiero a Mari y solamente a ella esta noche" he commanded, not wasting time in being polite or flirty. He wanted a service, and it wasn't cheap, so he wasn't going to pretend he was a nice guy. He wasn't one.
Mari showed up about fifteen minutes after, she had just washed her body and smiled at him with fiery eyes, walking to the man and kissing his lips.
There she was, the version of you he could actually have, all he had to do was pay for it. She resembled you, you both had a similar body type, similar hair and if he got intoxicated enough, he could close his eyes and pretend he had your body against his.
"Vamos cariño, voy a llamarte de Y/N hoy" he whispered into her ear, pretending it was your neck he kissed.
As they were both in the room, Javi sat on the bed and pulled her to his lap, kissing her and burying his face between her breasts.
But she didn't smell like you, she didn't feel like you, and no matter how hard he tried focusing and thinking of the night you'd kissed him, nothing happened.
Javi gasped and looked down ashamed and then back at the woman, who got off him and didn't say anything. He ran his hands through his hair as he groaned in sheer frustration, he just couldn't get hard.
She even tried to get him to action, but it wasn't happening, Javi was dragged each time to your kiss with Manu. How he cupped you cheek and kissed your lips at the same time you his tugged the hem of his shirt and pulled hid body closer to yours.
Javier left the brothel livid, he'd paid for the service he couldn't get and smoked a cigarette on the street, blaming it on you and that man for everything bad that was happening to him.
•••
On Monday you separated a couple of files that had been sent to the wrong department and got ready to take the elevator and go to upper floor. Ever since you started dating Manu, you felt more confident about yourself and seeing Javier wasn't necessarily a problem. You knew you'd made things pretty clear between the two of you and of course Colleen being the envious puta she was, spread the news you were seeing a coworker to everybody, it wouldn't surprise you if even Pablo's sicarios knew about your relationship.
It wasn't the first time documents had been misplaced and all you had to do was to leave them on Murphy's desk and return, so you wanted to get things over with.
You passed by Colleen without giving her the time of the day, she annoyed you in a way it was beyond words and you always preferred to think she didn't exist.
"Y/N!" She called a couple of times, making you stop and turn around "Steve and Javi aren't here, so just you know…" you gritted your teeth and faked a smile.
"Thank you for your great service Colleen" you said and kept walking.
Your threw the files on Murphy's desk and couldn't help but glance at Carlos' old desk. As you'd heard, apparently no one had been hired or promoted to take over his job, instead, all of his investigation and internal job was assigned to both Murphy and Peña.
There was a time you would've probably got a great part of it, so you would help them with the ridiculous amount of work coming in, but that time was gone and now you didn't have to take over anyone's jobs, just doing your own and worrying about leaving work in time to meet your handsome Manu.
However, you noticed some files and a big yellow envelope on his desk. You looked around and saw the department was almost completely empty as it was almost time for the end of the shift.
You didn't know exactly why you got so curious and let alone why you began fumbling through those documents that certainly didn't concern you. But the yellow envelope dragged your attention in a way you just felt attracted to it, as if your intuition was telling you to check it.
You battled with yourself whether you should open it or not.
Correction: you shouldn't open it and you knew it, but for whatever reason you were so curious about it and all you could read was 'CARLOS' written in capital letters, in red ink. You told yourself it would be fine, just some intel from whoever Carlos' informant was. Worst case scenario it would be something boring and you would just leave it on Steve's desk.
So you took another glance around the room to make sure no one was watching you and opened the envelope, gasping at the content inside.
After the stressful meeting with Messina, both Javi and Steve were in low spirits, Connie still hadn't returned and the American agent had no motivation or reason to be home early, so he invited Javier for a few drinks. However, Javi wasn't in the mood for that. He was tired, stressed and the days seemed to be dragging on. He felt lonely and the less thing that still brought him some pleasure was a delicate matter as he hadn't been able to get hard for any women.
Sure, he could still rub one off thinking of Y/N, but each time he tried doing it with a woman, it felt like he had some kind of block that wouldn't let him go further.
He dropped Steve off at the bar and drove home, shrugging at the idea Y/N was probably out with her boyfriend on a cute date he'd rather think, because it was way more comforting than picturing you sucking another man's cock.
He looked at your table and thought of knocking on it, maybe just to see you, hear your voice, but he immediately gave up.
He got his key but frowned when he noticed his door was unlocked, which was alarming as Javier was sure he'd locked the door before. He immediately got his gun, getting inside silently and walking around, checking every dark corner for threats or unpleasant surprises.
Javier went speechless to find you sitting on his couch. It took him a moment to process how the fuck you got inside, but then you remembered how you two had exchanged spair keys to your apartments and completely forgot about it.
He was about to question you, when he heard your sniffs and saw you were crying. He went completely soft and walked to you.
"Y/N" he whispered and knelt in front of you, concern flooding through his body as he cupped your cheek and stroke it so gently. He wiped your tears with his thumb and you only then realized how big his hands really were.
You shook your head and looked into his eyes, disappointment shattering your heart as you gathered the courage to speak.
"What happened, cariño? Talk to me? Was it your boyfriend? Did he hurt you? Carlos?" He asked as he stared at your with the biggest warmest brown eyes you'd ever seen.
You handed him the envelope and watched as Javi emptied it on his coffee table.
"Los Pepes, Javier?" You finally asked, as you both stared at pictures of him meeting up at a bar with one of the group's sicarios.
"Since when you've been a double agent, Javi? Is all this a lie? How long have you been lying to the DEA? To me?" You asked him, and the disappointment in your voice just ripped his heart apart. You thought he was a dirty cop, he shook his head, feeling despair spread through his body as he looked for words to explain to you the mess he got himself into.
But took his hand away from your face and wiped your tears.
"After everything that went on between us, I thought that at least you were a good cop, Javi… I thought at least you would keep safe, but once again, I see I'm wrong" you swallowed.
Javier couldn't handle you being that disappointed in him, it broke his heart and he just couldn't live with you hating him as a whole.
He ran to you, pressing you against the wall and using his own body to trap you. He looked at you and buried his face in the crook of you neck, taking in your intoxicating perfume, his nose ghosting against your skin before you could feel his lips on it.
He mumbled something under his breath but you couldn't actually understand, you tried using your arms to break free from his grip, but his kept yours in place.
He looked at you as he dragged his face over your cleavage, just in the curve of your breasts he buried his face again, spreading small kisses all over your skin, he pulled your blouse down exposing your cleavage a little more and kissed your breasts gently.
You were taken aback by his soft, gentle and desperate touch. Your body felt on fire but you needed to fight that urge of submitting to him.
"I-I'm not gonna tell anyone, Javier. I promise" your voice was weak but you finally pushed him away the moment he got distracted when he tasted your skin gently and panted.
"I'm not a dirty cop, Y/N. I'm not" he said looking just as broken and you realized that was what he was mumbling against your neck, against your breasts. Javier was lost, when you finally fled his apartment. He sat back on his couch, after pouring himself a scotch. He spent hours staring into the void. There was nothing he could do to win you back. He had lost everything, but most importantly, he'd lost you.
_____
A/N pt1: this last scene wasn't planned at all. I don't know what happened, I just started writing the end and it popped into my mind and I had to do it.
A/N pt2: yes, I named Javier's hooker after myself lmaof
A/N pt3: face claim for agent Manu Herrera is mexican actor Alfonso Herrera
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal imagine#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña x y/n#javier peña x you#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña fanfic#javier peña imagine#javier pena#javier pena x reader#javier pena x y/n#javier pena x you#javier pena fanfic#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena imagine
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here's the thing
tiktok is a net evil and I fully believe that it's selling user data or giving it to the chinese government but that's barely any different from what facebook and twitter do literally every day, they're just selling it to advertisers. american social media is barely distinguishable from spyware as it is. if the american government wants to ban tiktok, why are they not also buckling down on twitter, facebook, hell, even tumblr probably sells your data as exemplified by the recent ai shit. facebook has literally been in settlements over selling user data to steve bannon's people to undermine the 2016 election. twitter is run by an egomaniac who Just Asks Questions about jewish people and the trans community, you want me to believe he's not happy to sell user data to horrible people?
they can say it's about security and user info selling but that's basically a cover. it's a proxy for what's basically become a cold war with china (not that the original cold war ever REALLY ended, let's be fair -- just changed modes). and it could set a bad precedent for the country's ability to crack down on shit in the way china and other authoritarian regimes already do, and with trump 2024 looming and looking more likely by the fucking day, I'm not thrilled with that idea. and I'm not a fan of tiktok at all and frankly think the world would be better off with it gone but if it was really about security then maybe we should also look at the companies doing this shit in our own damn borders.
but we can't do that, can we. then we'd lose all that fat lobbying money.
#my feelings on this are complicated because it's a complicated issue#but again I'd be happy if tiktok crashed and burned and died forever#but then again I'd feel the same way about twitter or facebook so ....
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When Eddie’s terrified, he feels cold—and it’s not a mild thing, not just goosebumps on his arms. It’s violent shivers: his breath catching as ice forms in his lungs, crystallising up his throat until he can barely talk.
It was bad at the middle school talent show: stuck in the wings with fellow students pressed up against him, all jostling for space. He should’ve been sweating.
And technically he was, but it was as if his brain hadn’t checked in with his body or maybe the other way round, and he kept biting down hard on his tongue as his teeth chattered.
A teacher noticed and even asked if he was feeling sick, if he wanted to be sent home.
He shook his head, felt his legs shaking; Jeff had to speak for him until it was finally the band’s turn on stage, and the ice thankfully thawed enough for him to sing.
But right now he thinks the ice is here to stay.
He’s sat back in the boat, the tarp tangled up by his feet; he can’t stop one knee from bouncing up and down erratically. He knows he isn’t really shaking because of the literal cold, but it doesn’t exactly help that it’s damp as hell in here.
He’s not alone—he’s still surrounded by quite possibly the most random group of people in history. Dustin’s leading the conversation, which has devolved into Max teasing him about some girl called Suzie.
Eddie suspects the change of tone is deliberate, that these kids who are somehow well-versed in a literal fucking war have an admirable intuition; have sensed that he needs a cool down after learning about an evil alternate dimension. Kinda like what he does if he watches a horror movie late at night—makes sure to read some light-hearted crap before he goes to sleep, so the scary shit isn’t the last thing on his mind.
Eddie appreciates the thought. If he wasn’t still repressing shivers, he might even find it sweet.
But the chatter isn’t helping.
He can’t grab a hold of it, the sounds slipping away before he can make sense of them; his mind keeps drifting away, and he’s suddenly stuck on the thought that he can’t remember what Chrissy’s last words to him were. He can hardly even recall what her laugh sounded like in the woods—like everything about her has been trapped underwater, stifled beyond all recognition.
He let her die, and he can’t even manage the decency of remembering her. What the fuck is wrong with him?
He exhales shakily. Neither Max or Dustin seem to notice, which both relieves him and sets his teeth on edge.
His lungs are tight, but he still feels a sudden urge to talk—for once wishes that he’d just bite his tongue instead.
Something’s cracking deep inside him.
He’d thought his breaking point had been reached long ago, but it keeps getting worse; as the kids talk, he can’t avoid the fact that they’ve already watched him profoundly lose it, and shame spreads from the pit of his stomach—merges with the ice, culminating in a bitter wave of self-loathing.
Leave me alone, he desperately wants to say, but he knows it’ll just come out in a scream, knows it’ll sound like he’s furious. That’s always been the way of things, at least for him: deep-seated fear hiding underneath anger.
He opens his mouth. His teeth are clacking together.
He manages to temper the feeling right at the brink so that all he says is, “D-don’t you assholes have a bed time?”
“Oh, that’s cute,” Dustin says, over the sound of Max scoffing.
Please go, just fucking go, I’m gonna fall apart and I don’t want you to see it, not again.
“Yeah, well I have a bedtime, so let’s get outta here, dickheads,” Steve says.
He sounds dry, borderline snippy. But his eyes fleetingly meet Eddie’s as he speaks, like he’s heard him somehow. Like he understands.
Dustin stands with some customary grumbling, pulling Max up with him.
“Night, Eddie. It’ll be okay,” he says, so optimistic—with an unshakeable courage that Eddie has never once possessed.
Eddie attempts a smile. Has no idea if he succeeds.
Robin’s already standing, walking off behind Dustin and Max—but then she spins, doubles back on herself; Eddie jumps at the sudden movement.
“Water!” she says, “I’ve got some in the car, you should—hang on, Eddie.”
“I’m—I’m fine, I don’t need…” Eddie’s voice is hoarse, fades out on him. He coughs, tries again, slightly louder, “I said I don’t need it!”
But Robin’s already too far away to hear him.
The quiet rustle of a jacket: Steve is still here.
Eddie lunges forward as quick as he can. His hand clasps around Steve’s wrist.
“Harrington, seriously, tell her not to bother, man. I’ll—” He swallows. “I’ll just throw it back up.”
It’s almost too dark to see, but Eddie swears Steve’s eyes are flickering over his face. He doesn’t know what he’s seeing. Doesn’t think he wants to know the answer.
“Dude, you need to drink, at least,” Steve says finally. He gently tugs himself free—stepping back with an apologetic air, slowly enough that Eddie doesn’t startle. “Gimme a sec.”
He’s back in under a minute, passing Eddie a bottle of water with the cap already off.
Eddie drinks. Despite his protesting, he knows it’s for the best; his head is pounding.
He spills the water more than once; his hand is trembling.
Steve doesn’t mention it.
“I can get you some food,” he says.
Eddie shakes his head. “I ate before. Not hungry.”
He’s telling the truth, although he can’t remember what he ate. Can’t remember much of anything.
Steve doesn’t look very happy with that response. His frown is audible when he asks, “Don’t you have a blanket or something?”
Eddie laughs, horribly false. “Why, Harrington? Wanna tuck me in?”
Steve doesn’t answer.
Eddie wants him to retaliate with what he deserves: cutting words. Wants Steve to throw out something cruel, then leave him be.
No. That’s not…
He wants… he wants…
“Don’t move,” Steve says. “I’ll be right back.”
Eddie laughs again—a little more genuine. “Can’t exactly go anywhere.”
He doesn’t know how long Steve takes. He loses track of time after the sound of the car reversing fades away; the darkness stretches out before him, and his fingers flex, tremulous, and he almost starts to believe that no-one’s found him after all, that he’s alone, that he’ll always be—
The soft crunch of tires rolling over gravel. The twin clunks of a car door being opened then closed, not too loudly, followed by even footsteps. Slow. Safe.
And Eddie hears Steve singing, quiet enough that he can’t really decipher the lyrics.
He doesn’t know why he recognises it, why it’s so familiar. But he understands why Steve is doing it, the realisation burning in his throat: that Steve is signalling his approach, so Eddie knows it’s him.
“Hey,” Steve says, and there’s a gentle kind of thud—something being dropped by Eddie’s feet. Then the soft press of fabric behind him: a pillow.
Eddie manages to shift his feet a bit. More fabric. It’s a blanket.
“I just thought, like, two layers, y’know?” Steve is saying. “Not ideal with the tarp, but it should trap more heat compared to…”
Eddie’s throat tightens even more. It’s so… so fucking kind.
“Thanks,” he manages.
“Hey,” Steve says again, softer—a hand lands on Eddie’s knee; his palm is warm. “You’re okay.”
Eddie realises belatedly that he’s crying again. For a little while, it just feels automatic, as if he’s detached from the tears; Steve gives him space, working around him.
And Steve’s not tucking him in really, just sort of shaking out the blanket, but he lets it fall with intention—smoothes out the creases when it gathers around Eddie’s knees.
Eddie doesn’t know what changes, just knows that he’s abruptly aware of the silent tears building into something more. There’s a false jagged sensation of something getting caught in his chest as he swallows, and he gasps, inhales sharply—once, twice; feels that panicked stutter to his breath, like when he was a kid failing at treading water.
Steve crouches by the side of the boat.
“You’re okay,” he repeats. He’s rubbing his throat ever so slightly while he says it—doesn’t seem aware that he’s doing it.
“I’m s—” Eddie chokes on the words again, a distressed hum cutting through instead. “I’m s-sorry.”
“Eddie, it’s—”
Eddie points to Steve’s throat. “C-could’ve—mm, mm. Could’ve been bad.”
He remembers the feeling of Steve’s skin against the shard of glass, remembers his stupid shaking hands—so close, too close to blood being spilled.
Just a hair’s breadth away from…
It could’ve happened so easily. Two deaths on his conscience.
“Eddie,” Steve says calmly. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t have let you.”
It’s not a threat. It’s a reassurance.
His hand falls away from his neck, as if making a point.
Eddie stares and stares—and it’s definitely too dark to tell if there’s a bead of blood on Steve’s skin, but his mind does the work for him.
Vivid, wet. It wouldn’t stop. Chrissy. Her eyes…
The ice freezes over completely, stops up his throat.
Eddie can’t breathe.
“Yeah, you can,” someone’s saying, “hey, it’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass, okay? I’m just gonna…”
A snap.
Eddie flinches, cries out with a wordless noise of anguish.
Through the roaring in his ears, he hears, “Shit,” before a contrite whisper of, “Sorry, sorry.”
Steve. Steve’s here, guiding his hands until they’re cupped around something.
Something warm.
It starts the thaw, draws air back into Eddie’s lungs. His head clears a little. He knows where he is. Wishes he wasn’t…
He wants someone to tell him that Chrissy didn’t suffer, that she didn’t feel anything.
No.
He wants someone to wake him up, to tell him it was just a nightmare, that he can go home; he wants the universe to rearrange itself so that Chrissy never even met him—that the only trouble she ever has to deal with is which shoes to wear with her graduation robes.
“I want,” he gets out, “I want—”
“I know,” Steve says.
His hands are still wrapped around Eddie’s.
And Eddie senses the source of the heat now, a packet of some kind.
A hand-warmer.
He manages to take a proper breath, deep enough that he can smell the pillow Steve has given him; it doesn’t smell of the detergent Wayne uses, but it smells like a home at least. The dip in the middle makes him suspect that Steve’s brought the pillow from his own bed.
Eddie breathes in again. Out.
“There you go,” Steve murmurs.
Gradually the warmth against Eddie’s palms brings about a repeatedly suppressed, bone-deep tiredness. His eyes are stinging with it, and he feels like the boat’s been pushed out onto the lake; he sways forward without meaning to.
“Sorry,” he says, tongue thick.
He lifts his head to find Steve looking at him intently, brow furrowed.
“You should lie down,” Steve says quietly. “You look exhausted.”
Eddie does, turns onto his side so he can still just about see over the side of the boat. But…
“I won’t sleep,” he tells Steve through a sigh. He’s not arguing the point; it just seems inevitable.
Steve shrugs. “Just shutting your eyes is better than nothing,” he says casually enough, but it sounds too knowing, like he’s speaking from experience.
Eddie wonders what Steve sees when he falls asleep.
Steve stands up slowly. Hesitant.
“I’m—um. I’m sorry,” he says. “I’d stay, believe me, but I just—I don’t want the car here too long in case someone…”
“Go, Harrington,” Eddie says, hopes it comes out as gentle as he means it to be. “You’re the taxi service.”
Steve smiles. “We’ll be back,” he says. “Tomorrow, okay? I promise. We’ll bring food.”
“Tomorrow,” Eddie echoes. Tries and fails to push down a yawn. “Food.”
It’s not so bad, listening to Steve walking away. Eddie’s eyes close, burn with relief; in his head he follows along with the sound of Steve’s footsteps as they get more and more distant.
Car door opening. Closing. Seems farther away than before. His head is heavy.
He doesn’t expect to fall asleep. But he does his best to keep his thoughts on something light anyway. Maybe the continual warmth between his hands helps, ensures he doesn’t spiral back down to… to…
It comes to him fuzzily: why he recognised Steve singing in the first place.
Last summer, going to the mall to catch a movie, walking past an ice-cream parlor and hearing…
It was an unselfconscious kind of singing—no tension in the high notes. The sort usually done alone.
And do you feel scared? I do. But I won't stop and falter.
Eddie glanced over. Steve had been mopping, head down, but he looked up suddenly—for a moment, Eddie worried that he had been spotted. But then he watched the surreal sight of a group of children walking all over the wet floor, Steve beckoning them onward with fond exasperation.
He tapped at his wrist. “You’re cutting it fine tonight. Through the back, round the—”
“We know,” came an already distant chorus.
Steve rolled his eyes.
“And if anyone hears about this—”
“We’re dead!”
A door shut—alone again, Steve shook his head to himself. Smiled.
And if we threw it all away. Things can only get better.
Eddie remembers thinking that his voice wasn’t all that bad. It was nice.
It was…
Eddie wakes up warm.
The sight of the tarp disorients him for a few seconds—but he’s too sleepy to be panicked. The blanket against his jeans feels perfectly heavy. Keeps him still. Keeps him…
He thinks he must unintentionally drift off again; when he comes to, he feels that the hand-warmer he’s holding has gone cold. His feet knock against something, and he opens his eyes enough to see that Steve’s left more pouches. He takes one, hums when he cracks it so he doesn’t hear the…
It’s another day. He’s still here, damp wood against his back. A pillow beneath his head.
He knows the nightmare hasn’t stopped; Chrissy is still dead.
But there’s things he can touch, hold onto—evidence that he’s not been left alone, not really. He knows that Steve will come back. They all will.
His hands are warm.
And that’s something.
#this is my first ‘the boathouse’ fic! ❤️#pre steddie#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#steve and the party
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Hummingbird - Part 6
Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.
Word Count: ~1.5k
A/N: Reader is AFAB
A/N2: This takes place at the same time as Dream Come True Part 7
Warnings: Implied violence. Please let me know if I missed any.
Part 5 -- Part 7
Series Masterlist
Steve is on edge. Ransom might be trapped in his own home and the only way to find out anything was to send in a civilian. True she was on their payroll, but she’s supposed to only be on the legitimate side of things. Bucky was swearing up a storm and vowing to beat every passphrase he could into Ransom’s head so that this shit would never happen again.
Bucky gets a phone call from Mace, Curtis’s second-in-command. He immediately puts the phone on speaker, “what’ve we got Mace?”
“Note from Ransom that reads, Lloyd is back. Has solid plans to take over everything. We’re getting our intel to confirm and find out where he’s at.”
Steve’s blood runs cold. He knew he should’ve just had Lloyd killed but he was trying to not be like the other Bosses in the other Families. He won’t make that mistake again.
Bucky follows up, “what’s the word on Teach? She safe with you guys?”
“Not yet,” Mace answered. “She sent us a photo of the note from Ransom. Haven’t heard…” There's a ruckus in the background as they hear Curtis yelling. “Give me a minute,” Mace tells them. He doesn’t hang up so Steve and Bucky are privy to the argument between Curtis and Mace. Steve finds himself unable to argue with either man as they go back and forth between priorities. He’d heard rumors Curtis was going soft for Teach but this confirmed it for him. He can’t say he wouldn’t be doing the same if Hummingbird was in danger.
“Shit,” Steve cusses, earning a look from Bucky. “We gotta get a hold of Levinson. Start moving people out of here just in case a war does break out.”
Bucky nods as Mace gets back on the line with them. “I don’t know how much of that you heard,” Mace’s voice is cold and a little shaky, “but Curtis is taking an axe with him.”
“Fuck,” Bucky whispers.
“We’ve gotta get a plan in motion and we can’t do that without intel,” Steve says. “I need you and your team to focus on that. If you can find Teach you will tell me her location first so I can talk Everett down. In the meantime we’re getting Levinson to start getting the more at-risk people out of here.”
Bucky nods and adds, “we’re gonna up our patrols a bit and make sure no one goes out unarmed. I’m gonna call in a few friends, Nat should be done setting up McMann’s wife, Barton says he’s been feeling on edge so he’ll be happy to hear it ain’t for nothing.”
“Stay safe, Boss,” Mace says before hanging up.
You’re getting your things ready for whatever it is Steve has planned. He’d called you earlier and told you that there was an emergency and he needed to bring you to his place for a while for safety. Hearing a knock at the door you check through the peephole first to confirm it’s Steve. You let him in and he immediately bearhugs you.
“You’ve got your things packed,” he asks.
“Just finished.” He nods at your response and gestures for you to follow him. The entire quick walk to the car you can see he’s on alert. His shoulders are tense, every noise warrants a look or quick investigation.
When you’re inside the car Steve seems a little more relaxed. You know from previous discussions the tinted windows are bulletproof and it looks like he’s got his best driver, Dayton White, behind the wheel. You get the impression the “emergency” he talked about means he’s in danger.
“Is it safe to talk,” you ask, squeezing his hand.
“Technically,” he replies. “Better to wait until we’re inside.”
You nod and hold his hand the entire trip.
When you reach Steve’s office he starts taking and making a storm of phone calls. The primary seems to be someone named Levinson. You trust Steve to explain things so you sit and wait patiently.
After about an hour a grizzly bear of a man comes in, “Steve, where is she?”
“Ari,” Steve greets. “She’s right there,” and he points to you. “Hummingbird, I need you to go to a safehouse out of town with Levinson.”
“Excuse me,” you ask. “I have no idea what’s going on. Why am I not safe here with you?”
Levinson looks at Steve, eyebrows raised, “you didn’t tell her anything?”
“I’ve been kinda busy,” Steve barks. He looks at you, “we’ve got a very dangerous man looking to bring us down. He will not hesitate to take out anyone that might be remotely associated with us. Ari is our best at coordinating people to get them out of danger without drawing attention, I want you to go with him.”
“Is everyone else out,” you ask.
Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, “what do you mean?”
“I mean are the others safe already,” you reply. “The nieces and nephews? The Family members that run the legitimate businesses? Are they safe?”
“I want you out with the first few trips,” Steve orders.
“No,” you retort. “I get that I’m important to you and that puts a target on my back, but I’m not leaving and taking up Mr. Levinson’s precious time that could otherwise be spent protecting the more vulnerable Family members!”
“You’re wasting his time now,” Steve scolds. “Just go with him and do as he says so I know you’re safe!”
“I’m not the priority for escape,” you argue. “I can stay inside this fortress. Not everyone else can. Get them out first and then I’ll go!”
Steve is cut off by his phone ringing. “It’s Jensen, I gotta answer.” He keeps glaring at you, trying to stare you down as he barks, “what?!”
“We…we got Teach’s location, Boss,” Jensen stutters. “Cairo hotel on 45th and Washington.”
Steve writes as he speaks, “Cairo hotel, 45th, Washington, got it. Now get back to work on Lloyd.” He hangs up and goes to speak to you but Ari cuts him off.
“Cairo hotel? I know the manager there. What’s going on?”
Steve takes a breath, “we’ve got a person, a civilian, who appears to have been kidnapped by Lloyd. Tracker on her phone says she’s there.”
“Well, let me give him a call and see if he can’t get her out,” Ari takes out his phone.
Steve sighs, “and if he gives you trouble, tell him Everett’s gone Berserker and will do anything to get her out safely.”
Ari freezes at that, “holy shit. I don’t think Pine will let him in.”
“I’ll talk him down first, get him to give up his axe,” Steve assures. Ari nods and walks away to make his phone call. Steve then turns his attention to you, “and you are leaving to get somewhere safe.”
“Again, Steve,” you insist, “I am not the priority here. Let the other family go first, I’ll stay right here where you can see me, and after they’re gone, and after that poor woman gets rescued, I’ll get out. I promise.”
Steve is already worn out from the slew of arguments he’s been having so he relents, “fine. But you do not leave my sight. You stay in this room.”
“Yes, Sir,” you smile gently.
He gives you a warning look and calls up Curtis. It takes him a few tries but Everett finally answers. You can hear him yelling over the phone. “We have her location,” Steve tells him. “I’ll give it to you if you calm the hell down.”
There’s some more angry yelling before Steve gets in another word,“because if we’re not careful a lot more people will be hurt and killed. And I know you know that. The last thing we need is Berserker. Now get yourself together, Everett. Put away the axe and I’ll tell you where you can get her. Full stealth operation.”
Steve looks at you and his eyes soften, “do you really want her to see you like this?”
It must’ve done the trick because he tells Curtis what the plan is as Ari returns with some of the finer details of his friend accepting the visit. When they’re done talking Ari leaves to get others moving out of danger and Steve drops into his office chair.
“Sounds like he’s really in love with her,” you comment.
Steve nods, “though from what I hear he might not realize it yet.”
“They’ll figure it out soon enough, I’m sure.” You take Steve’s hand in yours. “Sometimes it can take a while.”
He nods again, “took me a couple years to actually ask you out.”
You look into his eyes, “and it’s taken me a few extra months to say, I love you, Steve.”
His eyes are a mixture of adoration and happiness as he kisses your hand, “I love you too, Hummingbird.”
Part 5 -- Part 7
Series Masterlist
Tags:
@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling
If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.
#mob boss!steve rogers#mob!steve rogers#mafia!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#mob!steve rogers x reader
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Okay but Imagine Peter messing with the timezone during the whole no way home.
He ends up in New York during the time of the Stark expo were Bucky just made sergeant and he was visiting Steve.
Maybe he runs into Bucky. Maybe Peter steals Bucky away from where he was looking for Steve when he wondered off from the double date.
Peter knows he can't mess with the time line. But maybe he shocks Bucky. Pulls him into a big kiss. And tells him something.
" Your name is Bucky. You are from Brooklyn. Your best friend is Steve Rogers. Don't get on that train" He kisses him in-between each sentence.
Bucky is just to stunned, wondering who this pretty doll is, why was he so open with homosexuality; doesn't he know they could be arrested, and why was he stating facts about him and just who is he?
Then he is gone.
But those words are something Bucky keeps thinking about. They keep him going on cold nights during the war. When he was captured in the concentration camp. When he was tortured by Hydra. And even as he falls.
It's one of the reasons he was able to break through the Hydra brain washing.
Then after the snap, after coming back, after Tony Stark saved everyone and Steve left.
Bucky was walking home in the snow after a mission with Sam.
He runs into someone, the same someone who all those years ago that kissed him. But it couldn't be could it?
He stops him and stares at him.
" My name is Bucky, I'm from Brooklyn, Steve Rogers was my best friend.... and I got on that damn train."
" My name is Peter, I'm from Queens, Tony Stark was like my father... and I fucked up time with Dr. Strange and to fix it... no one knows me anymore..."
#writing prompt#someone expand on this and write it#winterspider#peter parker x bucky barnes#i feel like this is such a good plot#like i need 50k worth of words#winterspiderpurrs
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part I part II part III
modern!gamer!Eddie x f!reader x neighbor!Steve
Warnings +18 : dom!eddie, switch!Steve, sub!reader, cursing, dirty talk, grinding, daddy kink, rimjob, unprotected sex, cum eating, exhibitionism, little bit of degradation, anal play, threesome (MFM), angst,let me know if i missed something.
it's the first time i wrote any steddie interaction, hope you guys like it.
Word count: 6224
PLAY DIRTY
Eddie was sitting in front of the computer with a frown on his face, the only movement he made was scrolling his finger on the mouse, reading each and every disgusting comment that appeared in a video that strangely, he hadn't posted. The blue light bothered the eyes of the newly awakened Eddie, a large cup of black coffee (without sugar) in one hand, the cigarette in the other while the boy watched attentively each thrust that your tongue gave in his ass, he definitely didn't post this.
Every moan that came out of your mouth while playing with his ass made his cock harder, making him feel the visible tent that formed inside his black boxers.
Eddie had even forgotten why he was so mad at you, until he remembered the comments.
"mommy? what a joke"
"Eddie, who's the bitch now?"
"I bet if I knocked on the door right now I could fuck them both"
Oh! boy. Eddie was angry, smoke was coming out of his head. It's one thing to be exposed and become acclaimed, it's another to become a joke. He felt exposed and attacked by the one he trusted the most, you. even knowing that he had started this war.
You, like every Saturday, abused your hours in bed since there was no commitment or task to be done. You got out of bed around 2pm, strangely Eddie wasn't home, "weird" you thought. You started to open the curtains and windows letting the warm sunlight illuminate the entire kitchen and living room area. Still wearing Eddie's old Hellfire T-shirt, you put on your earpods and chose your favorite playlist, jumping up and down and dancing around the room as you sorted everything into place, trying to make the room as comfortable as possible so that when your boyfriend arrived he could give all the attention you've been craving for weeks.
You poured a generous dose of whiskey into your favorite glass, sat on the windowsill and lit a cigarette. Listening to music and watching the street go by, every time you close your eyes, flashes of last night flashed back into your mind, of how loving and romantic Eddie was with you even after you abused him, not just his body but his trust too. You knew it was the last peaceful moment you'd ever have, when you heard the boots tapping against the hardwood floor and the keys tapping nervously against the doorknob, yeah! you were fucked and you knew it.
Eddie opened the door and already machine-gunned you with his gaze, you felt cold from your belly, making you sigh as the boy approached you.
"Good morning baby, I woke up and you weren't anywhere, I missed you." you placed a light kiss on the motionless boy's lips
He pulled you out of your seat and dragged you to the sofa, throwing you on it, causing the drink glass to fly across the room, scattering the shards of your favorite glass on the floor.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" he looked down on you, as if you had committed a crime..
"The same as you when you did the same thing to me." you attacked him back, standing in front of him. "Or only you can have fun at my expense?"
you tried to get past him you tried to walk past him but he held your wrist tightly
"Do you know what people are calling me on the internet right now, my love?"
he pulled you against his chest, lifting your chin with one finger, his eyes could burn holes into your skin with so much anger you could feel it radiating off of Eddie.
"It wasn't enough for me to be the freak,now I'm also the mama's boy, cool huh?".
You stared at him for a moment longer until your eyes were filled with blinding rage, you ripped your wrist from the boy's grip
“You can't be mama's boy but I can be the bitch?"
you push him across the chest
"A sex toy, cum dump?"
you pushed again
"I can be bitten, tied up..." you swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat
"You showed me like I was an animal ready for slaughter, you let them see everything only you should see , so, what was I thinking? asshole."
Eddie knew you were right, but he wasn't going to let you off the hook, he wanted you to feel the way he was feeling right now.
"You're going to have to make it up to me for this, you know that?" he said taking his car keys and wallet, putting everything inside his back pockets
"Make it up to you? what do you mean?" you crossed your arms against your chest and didn't let your gaze stray from eddie's
"Yeah, make it up to me. I can't go out like a mama's boy, and if you don't want to be exposed like a...cum dump, I'll find someone who does, and I'll bring them over here." he moved frighteningly close to you, you could feel his warm breath in your ear
"You can participate or not, it's up to you" The malicious smile that formed on Eddie's lips was palpable just by the tone of his voice.
You still hadn't processed what your boyfriend had whispered in your ear and when you realized it, he was already making his way to the door, when you decided to throw the empty whiskey bottle next to him.
"You don't even dream of shit like that, Munson. If you bring someone into this apartment you'll have to deal with the consequences, without whimpering like, like a mama's boy" now it was your turn to smirk.
"We'll see"
was all he said before opening the door and walking to the building's entrance, being pushed by the encouragement "FUCK YOU MUNSON" that came out of the deepest air you had in your lung.
You took the expensive whiskey that Eddie hid in the room and didn't care about the glasses, you downed long gulps straight from the neck, so numb with everything that was happening that you barely felt the woody taste of the drink and not even the burning that always followed of goals, nothing.
You skirted around the shards of glass, now all strewn across the living room that you had just tidied up to spend the rest of the weekend in your loved one's arms, but instead…
"You didn't even try to protect me from the mean comments" you whispered to yourself, sipping your drink.
All Steve could hear through the thin walls of his apartment was the huge fight between his neighbor and her boyfriend.
It was a tangle of sounds, between screams, clapping hands and sarcastic laughs. Steve knew that Eddie wasn't a person with the cleanest vocabulary and he was surprised to find that you weren't far behind, such a pretty mouth spewing all kinds of bad words at Eddie.
The sound of breaking glass caused the entire floor to go silent, Steve could hear your shuddering breath and Eddie's breath was weak, almost inaudible.
The boy's heavy boots caused the old wooden floor to creak, a loud slam as the door shut, and the man's step lowered as he made his way out of the building.
Steve looking at the computer screen with the comments page still open, the red sign on the screen showed that Eddie was no longer online, but the comments that made the guy lose his sanity were still on the screen, Steve's was still on the screen.
"kngstv: I bet if I knocked on the door right now I could fuck them both"
Steve wasn't stupid, he knew what Eddie had been doing for a while. Not only did he know, but he closely followed every new interaction in front of the camera.
It started with the first audio that Eddie purposely leaked of you guys having sex, Steve would listen to the audio over and over again, several nights of stroking his dick imagining both neighbors on their knees for him, he had memorized some lines from the audio and knew what was the right point that he wanted to reach his orgasm, the sound of your moans with Eddie's made Steve come harder each time.
When Eddie’s first live stream was recorded without authorization and shared by all social networks, Steve knew it was you, not because of your body, nor of Eddie's tattoos or long hair, it was because of your moans and the guttural pleasure that you released at every praise eddie’s give to you. He heard these moans for months by now,living wall to wall with you, he knows every type of sound you can make on bed.
Steve had some privileges now that he was your neighbor. He knew what the fight was about, he knew your side of the story and he knew your boyfriend's side. He knew you weren't going to accept the attitude Eddie was putting and he knew Eddie was too scared to actually choose another girl, and Steve can't let the both of the hottest people he knows broke up. Not before he tasted you two together.
The loud knocking on your door brought your head out of the cycle of sadness, opening the door just a crack you saw your neighbor standing in the doorway, playing with his perfect hair, "he probably heard the fight" you think, opening the door the rest of the way , Steve smiled at you, causing you to let your guard down
"Hi pretty, is everything okay over here?" Steve said looking over your head, seeing glass everywhere "Holy shit, are you alright?" he said walking past you "Shit honey! Why are you barefoot?"
You looked down at your feet and a cry escaped "I-I don't know, I'm sorry"
"It's ok, c-come here, come on pretty girl, jump on my lap" and with that your legs circled Steve's body, until he carefully placed you on the couch.
"So, do you want to talk about what happened?"
Steve started to collect the broken glass while you sipped your drink in silence, your eyes not leaving the half-empty glass.
"I did a bad thing to Eddie and now he wants to do an even worse thing to me" You sighed deeply and downed the rest of your drink. "I'm so tired of this internet thing, and views and likes, it's all bullshit."
Steve sat beside you, his warm palm resting against your bare thigh, sending shivers down your spine. "Sorry honey, but what does the internet have to do with Eddie breaking everything? I don't understand"
"Actually, I was the one who broke it, I was so mad I didn't even notice when it flew out of my hand."
Steve shook his head, picking up the last pieces of glass.
"What a bad girl, Eddie should punish you for that, you know?",
"No-no sir, I'm a good girl" You covered your mouth with both hands as soon as the sentence left your mouth.
Steve smirked and nodded "Then get a box so we can put all this glass, okay little girl?" You shook your head and went into the bedroom looking for a box.
Steve took advantage of your departure and ran to Eddie's desktop, thanking God that the boy saved his passwords, quickly logging into his twitch account, starting the live show, turning off the monitor and returning to his place, broom in hand .
"Here Stebie" You handed the box to the man and sat back down on the sofa, holding a glass of whiskey for him.
"What happened to 'sir'?" he laughs slyly and your cheeks start to turn red.
He put the trash in the corner and sat beside you, his fingers brushing yours as he took the glass, his body turned to face you, arm resting on the back of the couch and his free hand playing with a lock of your hair.
"So what was the fight about?" he asked quietly, still winding his own finger around your hair.
"It's stupid, Eddie can be so mean sometimes" you didn't mean to, but a pout formed on your lips.
"Don't be spoiled, pretty girl, Eddie treats you really well too."
"I know" you said more to yourself
"What did he ask that made you so mad?"
"He, he said that he would find someone to bring home, whether I liked it or not, and that if I wanted to I could participate" your eyes were filled with tears, when Steve's hands went to your face, holding it tight . Steve's thumb traced the path of your tear, down to your soft cheeks to your cupid's bow, skirting your lips.
"Someone, huh?" Steve's voice was soft like velvet in your ear. "Didn't he say who? Was it a girl or a boy?" Steve's thumb is contouring your bottom lip now, pulling and pressing your fleshy lip, causing your mouth to be slightly open.
His thumb slowly entering your mouth, resting on your tongue, making you take a deeper breath "good girl" he he said taking his finger out of your mouth and smearing saliva across all your mouth "good fucking girl". he whispered, looking at you with pure lust and desire.
Looking at lover’s lake while smoking a joint, Eddie needed to get his head together before he came home and apologized to you. 30 minutes had already passed, he knew that was enough time to have you in agony, that was enough for today, he thought.
Getting into the van, he lit a cigarette and took out his cell phone. The device was hot with so many comments on twitch, on the videos page... and a small live signal appeared in the corner of the screen.
Eddie felt an icy shiver run down his spine, it felt like there wasn't enough air in the world to make Eddie breathe right now, seeing you sitting on the couch with none other than King Steve, who tormented Eddie for years, playing with a soft lock of your hair.
Eddie stood still watching the interaction, Steve knew what he was doing, he knew he was going to break your armor soon, he knew that Eddie was probably watching and going home and he knew that few options were left for the metalhead. Either he plays Steve's game or he's going to continue being a cuckold mama's boy.
The stream chat beeped more and more, causing Eddie's phone to keep vibrating,
"Does Eddie know or is he a cuckold?",
"They are going to fuck this bitch together, i’m telling."
“She’s a fucking whore, wanna taste too”
Eddie was fucked, he knew his only way out now was to carry on with whatever he caught Steve doing to you, damn Harington! he couldn't let the freak get better of him.
You were huddled in almost Steve's lap, while Steve's hands caressed all the exposed skin on your body, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, squeezing your waist tighter, making you bite your lip, trying to suppress the tears.
The sound of the key turning inside the bolt echoed through the apartment, causing Steve's whispers to stop. He could feel your body tense in his lap, and with a few tight squeezes around your waist, he tried to give you some reassurance, even though he was also terrified.
"Well, well, well... If it isn't Mr. King Steve" Eddie stopped with his arms crossed, watching the scene, your body wrapped around Steve's, his hand on your bare skin. It was possible to hear Eddie's teeth grinding so hard his bite was making his heart race.
Eddie walked over calmly and sat next to you and Steve, making himself comfortable. He pushed the hair out of your face, staring at your glossy eyes and with a strong grip, pulled your face against his, forcing your lips to his. His tongue invaded your mouth, licking and nipping in a desperate kiss, wanting to show everyone who you belonged to, who owned you.
"I told you that you could choose whether or not to participate with the other person," Eddie said, holding your face tightly, biting your lip. "But it looks like you chose to participate, and choose even the person, doesn't it! you little whore?"
Eddie slapped you across the face, making your ear ring "I asked you a question, slut" his free hand went to your neck, squeezing hard "yes" you said between ragged breaths.
"Good". he said nonchalantly.
Eddie looked at you with disdain and turned his gaze to the other man
"Are you in, King Steve?"
"yeah, yeah! of course I'm in" Steve said, putting you on the couch and standing next to Eddie, both of their backs facing away from the webcam.
"I know you planned this, you asshole. And as soon as this shit is over, I'm going to beat the shit out of you" Eddie snapped at Steve, who in turn could only smirk.
"Here are the rules, you're only going to do what I let you do. You gotta ask me to and if I let you, you do it.” Eddie smirks to Steve, “ you gotta do it right, ok big boy?"
"r-right" Steve now understood why you called him daddy, something about the man's bossy tone made Steve's dick tremble inside his boxers.
"Hey! lil princess. Stand up and let Steve take all your clothes off, shall you?"
Eddie demanded, sitting back in his gaming chair. He could see the shame and fear in your eyes and it turned him on even more. "I don't like to repeat what I said."
You stood up and shivered as you felt Steve's warm hands on the hem of your shirt
"But E-eddie I don't think..." You were cut off, by eddie's hand slamming against your cheek again
"Disgusting.bitches.like you.don't.speak." he said cupping your face, squeezing so hard your lips were half parted. "Open your mouth, bitch, open your mouth wide for me,yeah,that’s it” a globe of saliva travels from eddies mouth to yours “good fucking job, that’s a good girl, swallow it for us babe." Eddie wiped the corners of your mouth while returning to his place.
"Kiss her Stevie” he said mockingly “I want you to taste me in her mouth so you don't forget who she belongs to." Steve's hands were already on your face and his lips were pressed against yours, tongue kissing you, he moaned into your mouth as he felt the taste of Eddie on your tongue, making his cock press against the zipper of his pants.
Your body rubbing against the boy's, causing his hands to squeeze the fat of your ass, eliciting moans from your pretty mouth
"mhm, fuck Stevie, I can feel your cock on my thigh, it's so... big" you meowled.
Steve and Eddie groaned together hearing your words, pressing harder his body into yours.
"Now take her clothes off big boy, nothing you haven't already seen" he said, you could feel the evil on his voice, making your face burn with embarrassment.
Steve took off your T-shirt slowly through your body, fingertips teasing your warm skin, leaving your two peaked nipples on display for the two men in front of you.
"Go on, you can touch them Harrington” Eddie said with his low voice, “this slut begging for it, beg slut, beg him to touch you."
"please please Steve touch me.” your eyes pleading to steve touch you “I've been a good girl Steve! I've been a good girl sir! touch me please" you almost cry at the boy.
"Such a fucking good girl, so obedient, so good for us! Can I touch her Eds?"
Eddie just nodded as he felt himself through his pants, letting a low moan escape when he saw Steve's lips connecting with your nipple. You squirmed each time Steve bit down on your nipple, rolling the other one between his fingers. His mouth bit and left little marks all around your breast, making you moan louder and louder.
"I bet you're wet” Eddie said, palming his dick through his pants, “you're so dumb when you're horny, a whore for any attention”he said, approaching you,He cupped your face gently, placing a sweet kiss on your lips, he connected his forehead with your, looking into your eyes.
"Are you okay princess?" he whispered just for you to hear, his gentle eyes searching in your beautiful face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, you just nod.
“Put your hand on her pussy, see how wet she is for us, king steve." Eddie turned his eyes to Steve’s, smirking at him.
Steve's fingers made their way down your body, past the waistband of your panties, fingertips playing with your pubic hair, lightly brushing your clit, causing you to gasp.
Steve's free hand held you still by your waist, his fingertips circling your entrance now, collecting all your arousal, lubricating his middle finger, your arms round Steve’s neck, his chest pressed at your back, hairchest tickling your skin, your tities full displayed for eddie, and Steve pushing his finger into your tight pussy, slowly, so slowly.
So slowly that you started to press your pussy against his fist.
"Greddy" Steve said pulling his finger out of you completely “greddy sluts don't get nothing, princess" he said, pulling away from you and standing up, adjusting his cock, so hard it was throbbing.
"Not to mention, that Daddy said I need to ask him to touch you"
Something about hearing King Steve call Eddie daddy made him groan and drop his head back. "Fuck" Eddie huffed, getting up from his chair, his hand gripping Steve’s hair, noses almost bumping “what you did you call me, big boy?” Eddie said, almost sighing staring at Steve's delicious lips. “Daddy” Steve's voice was small,eyes never living Eddie’s gaze, he licked his lips and Eddie took it as an invitation.
The kiss was brutal,fighting for dominance, tongue and lips, moans and whimpers, Steve’s hands gripping at the hem of Eddie’s shirt, almost ripping it from your boyfriend’s body. Steve’s mouth traveled from Eddie’s lips, to his neck until his nipple, sucking and giving it cat licks, making Eddie moan and chuckles “Greddy tonight, aren’t we?” moving away from Steve and sitting across both of you, “C’mom big boy, make daddy proud” pointing at you with head.
Steve knelt in front of you, running his hands along the length of your leg, Eddie put his hand on the boy's chin, turning his face to his "but be a good boy and don't let her come, ok handsome?". Steve gasps at the pierced look on Eddie's face “o-ok daddy, i’ll be your good boy”, eddie only gives him a smirk.
The pain in Steve's dick was so bad that he had to unbutton his pants, trying to relieve the pressure, Eddie's gaze was glued to the outline of Steve's dick in his white underwear, he could see the small stain of pre-cum In the see-through underwear, leaving the pink tip of Steve showing, Eddie bit his lip.
"s-sir" you broke the boy's trance.
"Oh, poor thing, you kept her waiting, Harington, I wonder why…" Eddie's hand squeezed Steve's shoulder lightly
"Come on little girl, what were you going to say?” Eddie proceeded.
"mhm” you nod “thanks daddy. I wanted to ask ‘sir’ to take your shirt off, please".
Steve didn't wait for another word, he ripped off his shirt with one hand and with the other he already grabbed the waistband of your panties, pulling them by your leg and throwing them in some corner of the room. Sinking his face into your pussy, Steve suckled you like a starving man, licking and sucking your clit, his fingers circled your entrance, thrusting into your tight little hole all at once, you cried at the curved movement of Steve's fingers , hitting the right place. The pressure of his lips around your clit making your back arch, Steve increased the speed of the thrusts, making you moan pornographicly, he could have sworn it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.
"Nice, huh?" Eddie bragged, "y-yeah! she's perfect, mean, she sounds perfect". Steve answers with his face still buried on your sweet cunt.
Steve was slowing down his thrusts and sucking her clit one last time, leaving you whining and frustrated.
"I've been a good girl, sir! please, please" you almost cried begging for the touch, any touch from the visibly excited man in front of you.
Steve was big but no thicker than Eddie. The abdomen is clearly harder than your boyfriend's, adorned with hair, making your mouth water, not going unnoticed by Eddie, who already had his cock in his hand while masturbating watching another man eating you out.
"What do you think baby girl, Steve deserves to be repaid? Did he eat your nice little pussy good? Did he make you feel good?" Eddie said, still with his cock in his hand, leaking pre-cum from the swollen head. The words going straight to your core, making you moan out loud
"Yes! please daddy let me suck Steve's dick, he did a good job" Eddie's hand slammed hard against the fat on your ass "That's a good girl, a good slut for us, suck Stevie’s dick babe, I want to see your mouth full of his dick"
Steve let a groan escape through his nose watching you position yourself on your knees on the floor in front of him. Your hands massaged Steve's hard cock, making him hiss. He knew what you were capable of doing, he watched countless times from yesterday to today the video where you emasculate Eddie with such dexterity.
But seeing you like this, so vulnerable and in a hurry to make him feel good, Steve's perverted thoughts came back to him.
"Ask me nicely to put your mouth on my big cock, slut"
"please sir, can I put your dick in my mouth?" your fingers trailing up Steve's thigh, resting on the waistband of the man's underwear. "make you feel good?" lightly pulling his boxers down, sliding down his legs to join a pile of clothes thrown in the corner of the room.
Steve's big cock as soon as freed from his boxers came up against his abdomen, you could see the pre-cum stains glistening against the man's skin "can I taste you sir?" you could hear Eddie moaning as he massaged the tip of his cock, Steve let his head fall back
"Fuck princess, yeah! you can taste my cock"
You licked your palm before enveloping Steve's cock with your manicured fingers, moving up and down slowly, making Steve squirm under your touch.
"mhm, thank you sir, thank you very much" and with an innocent smile, you sank your mouth around the head of Steve's cock, giving light sucks, making the man go crazy
"fuck that's it, good girl" his hands on your hair, encouraging your mouth to go deeper on his cock, Eddie still masturbating, now sitting next to Steve, watching his head move up and down on another man's cock.
Steve started to move his hips against her face, fucking her face hard. Moans from him vibrated against the length of his cock, making him moan louder. When you were almost out of air, Steve released you from his cock making him moan at the lack of contact with his lips.
The man's hands squeezing his boyfriend's thigh as he touched himself, Eddie could feel Steve's eyes on his cock, he slid his hand slowly along the entire length of his cock, biting his lips containing a malicious smile, he pressed and massaged the head of his cock, his gaze never leaving Steve's face, as a drop of pre-cum trickled down the tip, steve let out a groan from the back of his throat.
"Wanna try it, big boy?"
Steve's eyes flew to his, looking for some kind of judgment but found only approval. "I-I never... I never did that daddy" Steve's so small voice made you moan louder than you expected.
You crawled until you were between your boyfriend's legs, his hands were against your face, holding you as if you were very fragile "hi pretty baby" he smiled, you lightly kissed his lips "hi daddy" you laughed down and continued "can I teach Steve how to suck your dick?"
Steve's heavy hand met the fat of your ass in a hard slap, making you cry and bite your lip.
"What did you just call me?" Steve asked, mirroring Eddie's words earlier.
"Sorry sir, I'm really sorry, can I teach you? please, I want you to feel how good daddy's dick is"
Eddie appears tired of the interaction and buried your face in his cock, causing the tip to hit the back of your throat, you gasped and coughed around his cock and felt your little pussy oozing from his crass attitude "That's it baby, choke on that dick, that's right, you stupid bitch, swallow it all" Eddie fucked his face mercilessly, moaning and growling at the feel of her throat around him.
He stopped your movements by pulling you by the hair, smiling at the sight of your swollen lips, chin and neck glistening with the amount of saliva that escaped his mouth. "Kiss her" he demanded, Steve quickly pressed his lips to his, his tongue not asking for permission, invading his mouth and moaning when he felt the taste of Eddie's cock on his tongue.
"That's it, good boy" Eddie's hands in Steve's hair "Now, you're going to lick her clean, swallow all the juice, the mixture of my cock and the sweet taste of my princess, ok?" you and the other man moaned at the same time "But first, come here whore" he handled your body, placing you in his lap.
He slid the head of the cock into your pussy, collecting all the juices of your arousal, making you moan loudly at the sensation against your clits, "Do you like that? hmm, that's right moan my name" You started to lower your hips looking for friction "please, daddy please!" you moaned almost desperately.
Eddie circled your entrance and slowly sank you into his cock, making you stretch inch by inch, his cock filling you deliciously, the rhythm he established allowing Steve to continue licking the mess Eddie left in your mouth.
Your hand enveloped Steve's cock, sliding up and down, making the man moan, the rhythm of Eddie's thrusts into your poor pussy increased with the sound of the moaning man who was fucking his girlfriend's hand. Steve's hand went to your clit, massaging, pushing you over the edge.
"Can I come? please can I come? I've been a good girl. Daddy? Sir? please" the fat tears started to run down your face "fucking yes! cream my whole cock, come on me babe. Be a good whore and cream all of my cock" and with this, your orgasm washed over your body, collapsed into your boyfriend's sweaty chest. He took you off his lap and laid you down gently on the couch, letting you get back to your normal self within your time, kissing your calf.
Eddie's gaze went to Steve who was already staring at him. Eddie draped his arms over the back of the couch and spread his legs slightly apart, getting comfortable. His cock trembled at Steve's look of desire, Steve's mouth watering at the sight of your cum running down Eddie's cock, making it gleam.
"Come here big boy, won't you be a good boy and clean up daddy?" Eddie said, making Steve groan and you sigh.
Eddie brought Steve's lips to theirs, kissing soft but firm at the same time, his hands roaming the boy's body, encircling Steve's cock with his big, callused hands "Would you be a good boy for me?" Eddie continued massaging Steve's hard member.
"y-yes daddy, I'll be your good boy" Steve finished the sentence getting on all fours on the couch, head down and ass up, his mouth wasn't as soft as yours but the feel of Steve's strong jaw opening and encompassing the head of eddie's cock caused his head to fall back "That's it my good boy" steve moaned tracing delicious vibrations on your boyfriend's cock, steve's head bobbed up and down on eddie's cock,strong hands playing with his balls, making Eddie fuck Steve's mouth in response to the boy's movements.
You recovered from your orgasm, propping yourself up on your elbows and finding the hottest scene, Steve's round ass exposed to you, as he rubbed his erect cock against one of the sofa cushions seeking any form of release. Your boyfriend's dick burying himself in his neighbor's throat, Eddie fucked his mouth deftly, moaning shamelessly.
His eyes met your face, your eyes on Steve's ass, you looked mesmerized.
Eddie was smirking at you when his gaze returned to his, he just nodded, confirming the request that was written on his perfect face.
You knelt behind Steve, your hand squeezing his cock and balls at the same time, making Steve moan and as a result, Eddie rolled his eyes at the vibration.
You started to slide your hand on Steve's cock, masturbating him while your delicate lips attacked the boy's balls. Eddie took advantage of Steve's distraction and grabbed his head, fucking the man's mouth with more desire, while Steve moaned desperately you took your wet tongue to Steve's puckered hole, licking lightly, massaging the ass of the man who moaned so hotly wrapped around from Eddie's dick.
"fuck fuck fuck" Eddie said each time Steve's body jumped forward with the attack on his asshole.
Steve increased the pace of the blowjob, his hands gliding easily over the man's balls with the amount of saliva that oozed from Eddie's cock. "I want to cum in your ass, do you want to make daddy happy? be a good boy to me?"
Eddie knelt down behind Steve, who was now eating your pussy so eagerly, trying to get at least one more orgasm out of you.
His throat being opened the size of Steve's cock as he fucked his mouth carelessly, you underneath Steve in a delicious 69, leaving his ass high so Eddie could fill his asshole with cum.
Eddie promised Steve he'd just put the tip in and so he did, brushing the swollen head across Steve's asshole, which all made him fuck his throat deeper as Eddie pressed his asshole, trying to enlarge his neighbor's asshole.
As soon as Eddie got inside, he slowly fucked Steve's ass, making the neighbor moan desperately "oh! fuck I need to come, can I cum in your mouth princess?" Steve asked desperately but not stopping eating on your pussy so good.
Eddie was already on edge, head thrown back, head jammed in Steve's ass as he worked his length with his own hand. "Oh!fuck, make her come Steve, now!"
Eddie said with the thrusts starting to get awkward, Steve with 2 fingers stuck in your pussy as he sucked you, you with your lips tight around Steve's cock. "Can i cum in her mouth? Can I, daddy?"
"Fuck you can" Eddie said squeezing their hands on Steve's hips, Eddie's strong grip bringing Steve to his climax, white strings of cum painting the walls of his throat, Steve's mouth sucked on the right spot of her pussy, fingers pressing into that spongy place making you squirting, soaking Steve's face.Eddie wasn't far behind, filling Steve's asshole with his hot cum, the three of them collapsing onto the couch, you couldn't tell where one started and the other ended.
You were sandwiched between the boys, when a low chuckle left your lips, piquing the boys' curiosity.
"Damn, that was...something" you chuckled and broke free of the boys' embrace, heading to the bathroom to clean up a bit.
Alone now, Eddie and Steve exchanged incriminating glances, the lopsided grin making the men look like playful little boys. Steve was the first to break the silence
"I didn't think your plan would work so well," he said, brushing the hair out of the boy's face.
Eddie chuckled and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag and passing it to Steve, who happily accepted it.
"I told you, It's just make her mad and she turns into a fuckgirl" he winked at Steve, getting up from the sofa and sitting in front of the computer, eyes roaming the screen, reading all the comments, he could only smirk.
"Yeap! I think we broke the internet Harrington" Eddie said casually, turning off the machine and making his way to the bathroom to enjoy the shower with you. Steve continued to sit on the couch, not sure what to do.
"Are you coming or not Steve?" Eddie's low, husky voice made Steve shiver
"yes, yes I will Munson" Eddie smiled fondly at Steve, throwing a towel hard at Steve.
"For your modesty, man" he chuckled
"Nothing you haven't already seen" Steve raised one of his eyebrows and winked back at Eddie.
"Come on boys, I'm exhausted and hungry, let's shower soon and watch a movie" your sweet harmonic voice making both boys smile widely
"We're going babe" they said together causing you to roll your eyes and shake your head
"Now I have two assholes to take care of" you said to yourself.
-
Special thanks to @omenhel who put up with me complaining and gave me great ideas, I love you bub <3
#steve harrington fic#steve harrington#steddie fic#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson angst#eddie x steve#eddie x you#eddie x steve smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#gamer!eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#modern!eddie munson#modern!eddie#gamer!modern!eddie#eddie munson fic#eddie munson one shot#modern au eddie#eddie munson x you#steddie x reader#steddie#steddie x you
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here's a teeny tiny lil scoops troop drabble for @stobinesque's birthday, just a few hours late <33
the first time steve and robin took dustin and erica out for ice cream after starcourt, it was a fucking disaster. robin told steve it would be, and he didn't believe her, but she wanted so badly to do something else because she was just so certain that ice cream wouldn't be the same for those kids anymore after everything that happened and would ya look at that? robin was right.
of course robin was right, robin was always right. one day steve would learn that robin's ideas would always be the best, that even though robin wasn't always great at picking up social cues she did understand people's emotions pretty well, thanks so much for not asking, dingus. it had only been, like, a month or so and already robin was sick of playing the i told you so game with steve harrington.
she loved him, though. there's some stuff you can't come out of on the other side without forming a lifelong bind with someone and as it turned out, being drugged and tortured by russians was one of those things. so. robin was stuck with steve now, just like he was stuck with her, just like the two of them were stuck with dustin and erica. what a strange little troupe of misfits they made.
the first time they went out for ice cream after starcourt, none of them could finish their sundaes. the ice cream sat heavy on their tongues and went down too cold and sat uncomfortably in the pits of their stomachs. it made robin think of the fear of that day, made her jump at the sound of the door to her left opening with a little jingle as other customers walked in. steve had a faraway look in his eyes sometimes, the way robin's uncle still sometimes did when he started thinking about the war. dustin and erica were quiet. it was almost eerie.
so robin suggested pizza, and erica jumped at the suggestion, and the four of them found their way to the big empty harrington house where they all piled onto the couch together while my little pony played on the tv.
erica came to life again with her face smeared with pizza grease as she peeled the layer of cheese off the top, shoving it into her mouth as she argued with dustin about the characters' motivations, the writing, the animation. even when she initially seemed to agree with him she would argue, tell dustin he was wrong and stupid and what could you possibly understand about north star, dumbass - you couldn't navigate your way out of a wet paper bag!
and steve laughed. he laughed in a way robin hadn't seen since before everything that happened. he laughed at the kids, he laughed at her, he laughed at himself, and for the first time in weeks robin was happy. she wasn't healed, she wasn't okay - not by a long shot.
but she would be. someday. if things kept up like this and she got to spend more time with these people who had come to mean more to her than any other friend she'd ever had in her life, someday robin would be okay. she'd never forget the things she went through in that bunker under the mall - none of them would. but she had people here who understood her, who could empathize with her pain and her fear, and she had steve.
they'd get through this together.
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