#Steve has a condition and that is he's desperate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imtryingbuck · 6 months

Text

Told you I’ll always come back

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: 4 years ago Y/n was Bucky’s fiancé and the team thought she betrayed them

Word count: 7,772

Warnings: angst. reader can teleport ~sorta~. reader also rolls her eyes like a trillion times. major character death. swearing. pregnancy. small mention of child birth. mention of cheating. tiny mention of sexual assault. mention of Sharon (I really need to get off the sharon-hate train) guns. gunshot wounds. sad all around

Translation: голубица - dove (if wrong please let me know)

Masterlist

When Fury rang her begging asking for her to come back for one final mission, she agreed with a condition, she’d bring her old team with her. Fury accepted.

That had been two weeks ago.

Landing back in New York brought back many memories, some good - some bad and some she wish she couldn’t remember.

“Hi can you take me to Avengers Tower please?” Getting into the cab she tried desperately to calm down her nerves.

The sky was a visual of her emotions.

Dull.

Standing outside the huge impressive building she felt like she was going to be sick. It’s been four years since she was last here.

“Hi I have an appointment with Director Fury at 12”

“That’s fine, take a seat and I’ll let him know you’ve arrived”

“Thank you” She didn’t listen to Haley the receptionist, choosing to stand instead.

Fury came down not three minutes later with a small smile on his face. “I’ve missed you - no touching I know”

“Let’s get this over with Nick. Sooner the better”

The man knew not to try and annoy her anymore so he lead her to the elevators, going up.

Her stomach squeezed tight at the sight of her former team huddled on one side of the table, with their back to her.

“Take a seat” Fury whispered in her ear.

The moment that they saw her they were already shouting out their protests, she ignored them and listened to Fury by taking a seat to sit in.

“Calm down everyone. Now!” Fury slams his hand on the table causing everyone to fall silent. “Now, Y/n has agreed to help us with a missi-“

“We won’t work with her Fury.” Steve interrupts.

“You have no other option. No one else will or can help other then Y/n”

“We’ll just do it ourselves” Tony shrugs.

“No. This is happening, if none of you can play nice then you’ll be sacked.”

“You can’t sack us” Steve says with a scoff.

“I can and I will. Now Y/n I sent you over the details of what we’re up against, did you read it?”

“Yes”

“Your team, have you briefed them on everything?”

“Yes Fury, and yes they’re happy to help”. She rolls her eyes at Tony who mocks what she had just said.

“You said in the email that you’ve already paired people up from both teams, do you want to share it?” Like her Fury completely ignores Tony’s childish behaviour.

Sliding over a piece of paper towards her former boss and friend she continues to talk “When you see them in training and you don’t agree with my decision feel free to change it-”

“Oh we will do sweetheart”

Once again ignoring Tony “You said that my team will be allowed to stay here, in the tower?”

“Yeah Peppers done your rooms up herself, you should be grateful”

Turning her head towards the man she saw as a father figure not that long ago “When I see her I’ll give her my thanks.” Sighing she addressed the rest “You have a problem with me, so you will take it out on me. Not my team, but me. Do not think for one second that just because of our history together you can treat my guys like shit. They’re good, hardworking fighters. Fury we have two weeks to train for this mission and if I find out my team isn’t being respected or treated fairly I will not hesitate to pull them and myself out, is that understood?”

Fury’s eyebrow raise as he nods “I completely understand Y/n, welcome home”.

“My team will be here tomorrow at 12, I’ll see you then”.

“Don’t you want to know what room you’re going to be in?” Fury asked.

“No, I’m not staying here.”

“Where?”

“Not here. See you tomorrow Fury”.

Making a beeline for the elevator she takes her leave, it’s once she’s outside of the building she gasps for air.

After her shower and nighttime routine she climbs into bed, her head was throbbing but all she was hoping for was a good night sleep.

It didn’t happen.

“Tony splash me with water one more time you’ll regret it!” She laughs.

“What are you going to do huh?”

“I’ll-I’ll smash up all your vinyl albums”

“Okay okay I’ll stop”

•••

“Steve wait up I’ve only got little legs”

“Sorry.”

“Can’t you just carry me?”

“Nope, come on we’re nearly there.”

•••

“Y/n will you marry me?”

“Yes, Bucky I’ll marry you”

•••

“Natty get your bum out of bed”

“Don’t want too”

“Okay, I’ll come and cuddle with you”

“Yess!”

•••

“Y/n it’s an emergency come quick”

“Sam what’s happening?”

“Come!”

She walked in on Tony fast asleep on Bucky’s shoulder.

•••

“Wand I love you, I’m gonna marry you instead of Bucky”

“Y/n/n your drunk”

“I know”

“Why you sad for?”

“I don’t know”

•••

“Bruce turn into Hulk so I can beat him up”

“Why do you want to beat him up?”

“Because… leave me alone”

•••

“Thor guess what?”

“What?”

“Your so beautiful and I hope you so much happiness”

“La-Lady Y/n,give me a hug”

•••

Opening the door, her heart broke at the sight of-

Gasping for breath, she sat up in bed. It’s been almost two years since she last had a dream turned nightmare about her former team.

The red numbers on the clock stated it was 4:33 in the morning, laying back down she grabbed the remote and turned on the telly, there was no way she was getting any more sleep now.

Getting to the Tower a little bit earlier, she sat in her car waiting for her team to arrive. An hour later a text message popped up from her colleague and confidant stating they had arrived she got out of her car.

Greeting them all and introducing them to Fury who said to her.

“You could of come inside you know”

“I didn’t want to” Leaving him to sigh in response.

Introductions between both teams were done and it was straight onto business.

“So what powers do you lot have then?” Tony asks.

“None. We’re all human, Marley’s a witch though” Douglas your closest friend replied.

“Oh. So why are you here if you don’t have abilities?”

“We follow Y/n wherever she goes”

“Why? She’s a tra-“

“Tony enough” Fury interrupted. “Now on to business, the organisation going by The Lords have been on our radar for quite some time now, recently they’ve been getting more cocky” Fury turns around to face the screen, image after image of buildings up in flames, innocent people covered in blood, dead bodies littering the streets were shown to them.

“We need to have them stopped. In just over two weeks they’ve planned to attack a government base, but we’re going to be taking the fight to them.”

“How?” Colleen - the woman who saved Y/n’s life ten years ago - asks.

“We’ve got their location-“

“Why don’t you just get them” Douglas nods his head to the team on the other side of the table “just to drop a bomb on the bad guys?”

“We need them alive so we can question them”

“Okay… but why all this man power?” Marco says.

“What is it with you lot always asking questions” Nat says with an eye roll.

Y/n sighed, looked at Fury “Marco has a point but I already know the answer, so I’ll be the one that fills him in. We should probably start the training, everyone knows what this missio-sorry I need to take this”. Getting up she answers her phone “Hi baby-“

Bucky hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of her from the moment she sat down. Her hair is so much shorter than it used to be, it suits her. A long jagged scar went across her cheek was new, he wondered how it happened. Seeing her sit there hands placed in her lap, her shoulders tensed up and a blank expression on her face makes him conflicted on his emotions towards the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with.

His heart tinged with sadness when he saw the small incrusted diamond ring with two small love hearts sitting on her finger, the finger his ring for her use to take up residence.

He wishes he could take her hand in his so he could rub his thumb over her knuckles, just like he use to whenever she was in that position as he knew it meant she was uncomfortable.

But he knew she didn’t have the right to his affection anymore not after she betr-

His thoughts are cut off as she stands, bringing her phone to her ear, greeting the person on the other end of the line with “Hi baby”.

A scowl made its way onto his face. Not that he had any right to do so.

“How are you? And don’t say you’re okay because I know better love” Douglas’s rough Scottish accent comes from next to her.

“I’m… I’ll be fine Doug, the sooner we’re done with this the sooner everything will be okay”

“Yo-you don’t have to do this, me and the team will tak-“

“Don’t. Everything will be fine after I’ve done this Dougie, you and the guys will be fine.”

They sit in silence. Doug didn’t like the plan she was going through with but he’s known her for years and knows she isn’t going to change her mind.

After training with the Avengers Y/n left, despite Fury telling her to stay and have dinner with them. Douglas left straight after the awkwardness of dinner was done, and being the only person who knew where she was staying, he headed straight there.

She brought this house for her and Bucky to live in after they retired, which they both agreed would be just before they married.

The home was beautiful, four bedrooms with two bathrooms, a large living room, kitchen with a pantry off the side of it, dinning room, an office that she had already planned to turn into a man cave for him. Two car garage, backyard was huge with a beautiful willow tree - as soon as she saw it she knew she had to have the house.

Bucky never knew about the house, she wanted to surprise him. It never happened obviously, and with a heavy heart she rented the house out.

The previous renters contract was up a month before she got the phone call from Fury, and there was no way she was going to stay in the tower. So she went to the place she wanted to call home.

“Have you spoke to them?” Doug asked breaking the silence.

“Yeah, driving Fran up the wall”. She laughs causing him to join in.

“She loves them though” He chuckles.

Nodding with a soft smile, “You should get back it’s getting late, I’ll see you tomorrow”

“You’re right” Standing up he pulls her into a hug, kissing her forehead he whispers “Don’t push me away love, not now”

That night she had the same dream as the night before, waking up at the exact same time again.

A week had been and gone, training was going good for both teams; apart for her. None of the Avengers held back, her body throbbed and ached after each session.

Today was the only day where Fury had to step in, seeing Y/n struggle against Wanda’s powers, he had to stop it.

Wanda had Y/n pinned against the wall and slowly dragging her up it, the whole room went quiet. The Avengers moved closer to the redhead whilst Y/n’s team moved closer to her.

“Mar-Marley don’t!” Y/n managed to rasp out to her friend.

Marley though small was deadly, her powers being similar to that of Wanda’s “She’s crushing your chest!” She shot back.

“I-it’s ok-okay”

“Wanda put her down!” Fury demanded.

“No. She’s a traitor, she betrayed all of us”

“Wanda!” Fury started to get nervous for the woman being pinned to the wall.

When Wanda’s eyes shot towards Marley, Y/n grew scared. She didn’t want either one of them hurting each other. “Marl-Marley stop! T-that’s an or-order!”

“She’s hurting you. And she’s lying!”

“No she isn’t. She’s a traitor” Tony shouted.

“Admit it and I’ll let you go голубица” Wanda smiles.

Even with the pain of her chest being crushed it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the pet name slipping from her former best friends lips.

“Admit. It. Y/n.” Everyone aside from Wanda flinched at the sound of Y/n’s ribs breaking.

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to draw blood. She wasn’t going to give Wanda the satisfaction of seeing or hearing the pain she was going through. She held Wanda gaze, both women refusing to backdown.

“D-Doug…ge-get Marley out of h-here”.

She sees in the corner of her eye Douglas struggling to pull Marley with him. “If the little girl wants to play, let’s do it” Wanda says breaking eye contact with Y/n to look towards Marley.

“No! N-no don’t!”

“Admit it then Y/n, admit to your team that you’re nothing but a liar and a traitor” Wanda screams.

“It wasn’t her!” Fury shouted, taking in a shuddering breath afterwards.

“What?” Steve’s eyes bounce from Y/n to Fury.

“She wasn’t the one who betrayed us.”

“Liar!” Wanda screams again just as she brings Y/n’s body away from the wall, throwing her back into it.

“I’m not lying Maximoff! Now let her go!” Fury shouted.

“Sh-she betrayed u-us!” Y/n’s heart broke at the sight of the tears filling up in Wanda’s eyes.

“She didn’t lass.” Douglas says as he still struggles to gain somewhat of control over Marley.

The hold on Y/n was released as she drops to the floor gasping for air. Her team run straight over to her as well as Fury who looks over at the other team with disappointment in his eyes.

“I-I’m okay” Y/n mumbles before succumbing to the darkness.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dr Cho asks when she sees Y/n trying to get out of the bed.

“I need to le-leave”

“You’ve just had your breast bone fractured and several ribs broken Y/n. You need to rest”

“I’m leavi-“

“No you’re not love, you need to stay” Douglas speaks from the doorway.

“I-I need to speak to them, it’s six”

“You need rest soldier, come on I’ll even stay with you, it’ll be like old times ay?” He smiled softly at the woman he respected more than anyone.

“Bu-“

“No buts my sweet girl, back in bed now” He gives Helen a nod before climbing into the bed with Y/n. “Get some rest love, I’ve got you”.

The next day Y/n wakes up in an empty hospital bed. Removing the wires from her, she stands up and carefully puts her clothes back on.

She crept out of the room and down the corridor, knowing exactly where she needed to go.

Hearing the raised voices coming from the briefing room, she took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling.

“-your concern Scottie”

“It is when the witch tries to kill my friend”.

“Friend” Bucky scoffs.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

“I see the way you look at her”

“Don’t be stu-“

“Doug stop.” Y/n says as she walks in.

“What are you doing here? Your meant to be resting”

“I’m fine”.

Marco pulls out a chair for her, gesturing for her to sit smiling at the woman who saved his life time after time.

“I’m going to say what I have to say then I’m leaving, don’t worry Nick my team will still help”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be there, can’t exactly back out of a deal now can I?” Fury’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion and Bucky noticed Douglas tensing at her words.

Sighing deeply, she closes her eyes “Sit or stand I don’t care but here’s the truth- I was the one that did betray you. I’m not sorry either”

“Y/n stop lying!” Fury says.

“…fine. It was Sharon.”

“That’s a lie!” Steve shouts.

“No it’s not. You see Steve, she was fucking you but she wanted your best friend. She wanted me out of the way, I didn’t even know that you lot were branding me as a traitor until Hydra found me several months later. Oh and I also killed Sharon”.

The Avengers sit there searching their memories from four years ago, and sure enough everything they were told was by Sharon.

“Wait what do you mean you killed her?” Steve asks.

“I put a round of bullets into her head, she was there with Hydra when they came knocking” She shrugged.

“But th-then that means you didn’t betray us?” Tony wheezes out.

“I’m many things but I’m loyal to a fault”

“I’m so-“

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear any apologies. Not from any of you. Fury I’m gonna go now, I’ll see you on the day of the mission.”

Leaving the room before anyone can say anything she heads back to the house.

*Four years ago.*

The nausea was driving her insane, she was on her way back from a mission with a handful of SHIELD agents who could hear her gagging in the back of the quinjet. Nothing was happening for her though.

“Talk to Cho and see if it’s something you ate or something” Lucas said to her as she came and sat down.

“Yeah I might”

And she did just that, getting off the jet she headed straight to medical bay. Telling Helen all her symptoms the nurse tells her to undo her suit and lay on the bed.

“What the hell is that noise?”

Chuckling “That’s a heartbeat, wait no there’s two. Look-“

“What? How?…What?” She always wanted to be a mum but Bucky thought he couldn’t have children because of what Hydra did to him.

“Two strong hearts, you’re having twins Y/n congratulations darling” Helen beams.

It’s only as she was zipping her suit back up she noticed the small prodding bump. Smiling she walks through the corridors subtly touching her stomach as she goes, reaching the common room she sees her friends - her family.

“Hey, where’s Bucky?” She’s asks.

“He’s in your twos room” Steve says with a smile.

“Okay thanks” Reaching the door to hers and Bucky’s room she didn’t realise that the team had followed her, with a smirk on their faces.

Opening the door, her heart broke at the sight of Bucky’s bottom half covered by the quilt moving back and forth and Natasha underneath him with her arms around his neck.

Natasha was the first one to see her, with a smirk playing on her lips she taps Bucky’s shoulder making him look at the doorway. His face completely void of showing any resemblance of emotion.

The team honestly expected Y/n to say anything, something, but not a single word comes from her mouth.

Instead she vanishes into thin air. The only sound for them to hear was her engagement ring clinking off the floor.

*Seven months after.*

Y/n did the most cliche of things, by moving to the middle of nowhere. She had a three bed cottage with acres of land.

It became her sanctuary. The one place she felt at peace, at home.

Most nights she didn’t sleep and if she did she was plagued by the images of Bucky in bed with Natasha. Tossing and turning throughout the night with silent tears streaming down her cheeks, the only thing that she had left in this world was her unborn babies and Roxy the fox that would come to see her every night.

At 8 months pregnant with the twins she was huge. She didn’t know what she was having, nor did she have a scan, which did sadden her. Luckily for her though the pregnancy was going smoothly.

It was turning ten o’clock at night on a Thursday, she knew something was wrong when Roxy hadn’t showed up. The hairs on her arms stood to attention, Y/n could feel the air changing - becoming toxic.

“Little pig little pig I know you’re in there” A loud rough voice came from outside.

“Whatever you’re selling I’m not buying” She shouted back.

“Not selling anything sweetheart, you’ve got something that belongs to us.” The voice says again causing her to roll her eyes.

Creeping as much as she possibly could with an 8 month pregnancy bump towards the window leaving her to mutter out a quiet ‘fuck’ as she sees the two dozen men outside, armed and ready for a fight. Rolling her eyes once again at the symbol embroidered on their chest of the suits they wore.

Hydra.

She hated that she just couldn’t snap into thin air, more than ever right now. She had tried it a few times - like the time she ventured out in public to go to the store, and she was standing there in the middle of isle three when she had an accident. The most humiliating thing she ever endured. Trying so hard to disappear even as she tried to helped the young woman who worked there clean up her mess.

Even after she left the store without her things she walked as fast as she could to the beat up jeep she had, trying desperately to get it to work, nothing happened.

For weeks after that event she kept trying but always failed. It had only happened once and that was many years ago now, it was when she was shot in the leg. Her emotions were all over the place, she was only fourteen. It hit her that it was because of the twins she couldn-

“Come on Y/n you’ve got no where to run, you’ve got no one to help you, just co-come out”. A new, familiar voice was now heard.

Y/n squinted her eyes thinking of a way to not only protect her babies but the woman who had been her friend for years, the woman who she thought and believed had been abducted by Hydra and was being used to get her.

“Sharon? What are you doing here? Long time no see huh”

“Y/n they promised that they won’t hurt us, just come out”.

‘Think. Think. Oi don’t kick me right now. Come on and think’ repeating softly to herself as she looked around the room. Of course her home was littered with all sorts of weapons and ammunition but she didn’t want to be the first one to shoot just incase Sharon got caught in the crossfire.

“You’ve got five seconds to come out willingly before we start shooting. We don’t need you alive little pig just need that special little thing you stole from Hyd-“

Sharon’s safety wasn’t a priority anymore, not now that Hydra thinks her babies belonged to them. He gets cut off with a bullet in between his eyes.

“Let’s go boys” She shouts as bullets zoomed through the air one straight after the other.

Bullets tore their way all throughout her home, destroying everything she had built for herself and her babies. Holes littering one side of the home.

“No no no not that vas- goddamnit!” She mutters as her favourite vase smashes into tiny little pieces. “Now it’s personal”.

One by one the sound of heavy gunfire became more quieter, until there was only two guns firing.

She grimaces as a bullet skimmed her cheek, she readied herself to shoot again when a bullet was fired.

“Y-Y/n are you hit?” Sharon shouts.

“No, it took you long enough to help out Shaz”

“I’m coming in okay”

Y/n moved away from her position, moving towards the fireplace mantle to pick up a photo of her parents that had been hit when the door came open.

“How did they get you? Are you hurt?” Y/n says with her back to Sharon. “I’ve missed yo-“.

A gun clicking from behind her stopped her words from coming out. Sighing with an eye roll she continues her task of trying to get the glass out of the picture frame. “What are you doing Sharon?”

“What’s so important about you? Why does everyone always want you huh?”

“Hell if I know, nothing special about little ol’ me it’s quite annoying really”.

“What was Simon talking about?” Sharon questions.

“Who the hell is Simon?”

“The leader, the first one you killed”

“Oh him, I’m not sure. Didn’t he tell you when he abducted you?” Y/n could see a glimpse of her friend through the broken glass, gun ever so slightly shaking as her arm starts to tremble.

“They didn’t abduct me, I’ve been working with Hydra for over a three years now.”

It took her by surprise hearing that “Fair enough” is all she says.

“Yep, I told the Avengers that you turned rat and was betraying them and they all believed it”

“Silly twats, aren’t they?” Y/n chuckles.

“Turn around. Slowly and put your hands in the air” Sharon demanded.

“And wave them around like you just don’t care” Y/n sings, as she slowly turned around and raised her hands.

Sharon audibly gasped and stumbled backwards “Yo-you’re pregnant…”

“No shit Sherlock”

“Whose is it?”

“Bucky’s but don’t tell him it’s a secret” She winks.

“You bitch!” The blonde screams “you’ve taken my life!” She starts to pace back and forth, eyes bouncing from the gun to Y/n’s stomach.

“Not yet I haven’t…” Y/n whispers.

“I love him you know! But no he wanted you, you had him and I had to settle for Steve. And now, now you’re having the love of my life’s baby!”

Despite the situation she was in Y/n couldn’t stop the sharp tang in her heart at the sight of the tears gathering in her friends eyes. But just to be a bitch she corrected the blonde “Babies, plural”

“Y-you’re having twins?”

“Yep”

Her throat tightened as she sees Sharon’s finger squeezing on the trigger, both sets of eyes shot straight to the gun as it jams.

It all happened so fast, Y/n grabbed the gun and using the handle to smack Sharon in the face, causing the woman to fall on the floor screaming in pain. Y/n walked past her to leave her home when Sharon’s hand wrapped itself around her ankle and pulled her to the ground. Sharon was up first out of the pair and was straddling Y/n back, gripping her hair in a tight vice she raised Y/n’s head before smacking it down. Again and again and again.

Sharon finally gets up kicking Y/n’s side in the process. “I’m going to do the thing I should of done years ago, you ruined my life-“

The blonde gets cut off when Y/n kicks her legs out from underneath her, causing her to fall back down.

“You’re fucking crazy you know that Sharon, Jesus”. Ever so slowly she manages to get up, her hands going to her belly “All this for a man? You’ve really lost your bloody marbles Shaz!”

“It’s Bucky! I love him” Sharon screams.

“Yeah well so did I until I caught him fucking my best friend!” She screamed back.

The pain and confusion flashed over Sharon’s face “No, your lying”

“I’m not. God I wish I was, but nope caught him fucking Natasha”

“He wouldn’t do that to me!”

“You? He was engaged to me, you absolute weirdo. Sharon just stop alright, it’s over I’m done. You want him so badly have at him! I don’t, I don’t want to fight you anymore, so please get up off my floor, stop crying and leave.”

She watches as Sharon picks herself off the ground, who then stops as they both hear that one sound Y/n had been dreading.

Her waters splashing onto the floor.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” She whispers to herself as she looks down at the sight.

With Y/n distracted she didn’t see Sharon standing fully or her running towards her.

The punch to her stomach caused her to stumble backwards, the punch to her cheek that had been sliced open by the bullet from earlier caused her to flinch. The pain in her abdomen intensified as she sees Sharon bending down to grab the gun.

“Told you I was going to end th-“ Sharon says just before she’s cut off with a bullet in between her eyes.

Whether it was because of the pain to her aching body or at the fact she was just made to kill someone she thought was a good friend, her finger wouldn’t stop pulling on the trigger.

Even after the gun kept clicking.

“Stupid bitch you could have just left but no you had to be a cunt” Y/n shouts at the dead body laying in her living room.

Dropping the gun, her hand went in between her thighs, bringing her hand back up her heart dropped at the sight of blood.

Slowly walking to find her phone she dialled the number of the one person she trusted more than anyone in this world.

“Hi love, we’ll b-“

“Doug I-I need you. Babies are comi-“ She cuts herself off when a scream tears its way out.

“We’re on our way!”

“H-hurry.” She says just as she drops the phone as she slides down to the floor.

Doug and Fran arrived as fast as they humanly could. Both of their hearts dropped to the pit of their stomachs when they saw all the bodies lying in her front yard.

Running inside they see the body of a blonde and Y/n, legs open as she births her baby.

“Love we’re here, Doug get towels quickly” Fran’s frantic yet soft voice says.

“I-it’s the second one” and that’s when the ringing of adrenaline fades and was replaced by a cry, when they look to the side they see the tiny body of baby number one.

Neither Fran or Doug moved as they watched their friend deliver her second baby. Neither one of them could wrap their heads around the strength Y/n showed time and time again.

It shouldn’t have surprised them really.

“T-this one’s a girl, what about the other one” Y/n asked, voiced laced with tiredness.

“A boy, he’s a beautiful baby boy” Fran smiles as she picks the still crying baby up, handing him over to his momma.

“Logan-Douglas and Harlow-Francesca” Y/n’s eyes move from her babies to the couple in front of her.

“R-really love? You want to name them after us?” Doug asks with tears in his eyes.

“Of course, you’re their godparents after all”

*two months before Fury rings her*

Y/n makes her way through the busy streets with her head down. She can’t stop the eye roll when she notices the two agents following her.

Slowing her pace she waited for the inevitable to happen.

As the agents got behind her a black van comes skidding past, the sliding door comes open, a sack is placed over her head and she’s pushed in.

“Do you guys want me to act scared or what?”

“Shut up”.

“Feisty”

After a while the van comes to a stop and she’s all but dragged out of it.

When the sack was removed her eyes dart around, rolling her eyes for the hundredth time, she’s in an abandoned warehouse.

“Ah Ross, so good to see you. You know if you wanted to see me so badly you could have just called” She smiles at the man.

“Wanted to surprise you Y/n”

“Oh yeah no I noticed, I was so surprised I didn’t see it coming…notice the sarcasm?”. Her head tilts to the side at the sound of footsteps “Hi Fury”

The man gives her a curt nod “Y/n”

“Wanna tell me why I’m here?”

“We have proof that you weren’t the rat, you can come back to SHIE-“

“Absolutely not. I’m fine in doing what I’m doing now thanks, can I go?”

“Y/n you’re a mercenary-“

“It pays the bills” She shrugs.

Fury shakes his head at Ross when he tries to continue, “You didn’t seem so surprised when he mentioned a rat, why?”

“Bit slow aren’t you? Let me guess the one that betrayed you was…Sharon? Yep I knew, um three years ago? Yeah something like that”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Didn’t think you lot deserved the truth so, can I now go?”

“We need to tell the Aveng-“

“No. Don’t, look let’s just keep everyone thinking I turned rat okay? It’s the best for everyone.”

Both men look to each other before slowly nodding. “It’s so great to see you Y/n” Fury says as he tries to pull her into a hug.

Stepping back she puts her hands up “I don’t like being touched nowadays, so no touching but it’s great to see you too Nicky”

“I told you not to call me that. See you” He chuckles and making his exit.

“We need to talk Y/n” Ross sighs once the pair are alone.

“About?”

“Your old team”

Her heart stops.

“W-what about them?” She knows exactly what it’s about.

Rubbing his hand over his face, he looks at her with sympathetic eyes. “The officials want you all to pay for what happened that night”.

“We was set up Ross! Right from the get go, it was all a fucking set up!”

“I know, Y/n I know. I tried telling them but they won’t listen to me” He speaks earnestly.

“Why aren’t they going after John?”

John Cooper, a name she hasn’t heard or spoke of or thought of for over ten years now. He was Y/n’s handler for a year, he made her go out and find people who was at the top of their game. She didn’t know why but she did as she was told to do, finding the best of the best.

Douglas - best snipper in the army. Helped that he could fight like a beast.

Marco - best hacker she had ever seen, fighter, built like a brick wall (secretly a cuddle bear).

Colleen - she saved Y/n’s life when she had been cornered in a dark alleyway neither her or her attacker saw the knife coming. No brainer.

Marley - a young girl at the time was an experiment Y/n stumbled on, she didn’t have the heart to leave her and when she saw what she was capable of doing, she brought her on board too.

Then there was Hank - the biggest mistake she ever made. He was ruthless and conniving, she thought it would work well in her favour until they all heard screaming and they saw him pinning a seventeen year old Marley to the wall and was trying to shove his hand into the girls trousers. Y/n didn’t hesitate to put a bullet into his skull, catching Marley as she fell.

John said they needed another person but she refused. There was no way she was going to bring another person in, not after what had happened.

Their mission was for them to break into a government base and download all the information off the computers, when they got there, there was dead bodies of workers.

Pulling back Y/n ordered them to leave, the moment they stepped back outside they were surrounded by the military, FBI and even SHIELD.

That was the night she met both Ross and Fury.

“Y/n he’s dead, died in a Mexican prison seven years ago.”

“Oh…”

“I need you to tell me the locations of all four of them”

Chuckling softly, “that’s not going to happen Ross and you know it.”

“No I know-“

“If I give them me, confess to murdering all those people, tell them l was the only person that did it, will they leave them alone?” She asks desperately.

“But that’s not tr-“

“It doesn’t matter what’s true or not Ross. Will they yes or no?”

Closing his eyes he whispers “yes”.

“Let me make one phone call and I’ll come with you, right here right now”.

“That doesn’t need to happen. I’ll need your help soon, you help and I’ll make sure you get a fair trial”

“My old team walks. Free and clear, no one comes after them and I want it in writing Ross.”

“Deal.”

Shaking hands she walks back over to the van, hopping in “take me back from where you kidnapped me from”.

*Back to the present*

The first thing she did when she got into her car was FaceTime Fran who answered after a few rings.

“Hey”

“Hi, Doug told me what happened you’re supposed to be resting Y/n/n”.

“I’m fine,honestly. Where’s my little terrors?”

Laughing Fran calls for the twins, Y/n couldn’t stop smiling when she heard their feet’s pounding on the floor shouting for her.

“Here, talk to momma - I’ll talk to you after okay missy”.

“Of course. Hi babies”

“Momma” they replied in unison. To see them brought a smile to her lips, her heart ached with the need to hold them in her arms.

“Guess what bubbas!”

“What” Logan asked.

“Momma loves you both, so so much!”

“I wuv you mama” Harlow screams down the phone, making her and Fran laugh.

“Logie aren’t you going to tell me the same?”

“I wuv you momma so so so so so so much” His little face beams.

They were truly the perfect mixture of Y/n and Bucky. Logan had Y/n’s eyes whilst Harlow had Bucky’s, Harlow had her fathers smile and Logan had his mommas. The mannerisms of the pair were the exact same as their parents.

She spoke with them for close to an hour, them telling her all about their fun filled day. Saying goodbye to them pained her, she hated saying them words to her babies. Speaking with Fran for a bit she ended the call and went back to the house.

In dire need of sleep.

The rest of the week passed, Douglas visiting her most days and telling her that the team of superheroes wanted to see her to apologise, nothing was ever said back to him, leaving him hoping that things were different.

It was the day of the mission, she rang Fran so she could speak to her babies one last time. She left the house and headed back to the tower.

“It’s important that everyone knows exactly what the plan is. Nothing can go wrong”. Fury speaks from the head of the table. “Anyone want to saying anything?”

“Yeah, Y/n I’m so so-“ Wanda tries to say.

“It’s fine. Let’s just get this over and done with, my guys- are you ready?”

“Yes boss” All answer.

“Well, good luck everyone”.

On the quinjet ten minutes later, awkwardness filled the air as both teams sit on opposite sides. No words are spoken other than the pilot saying they were taking off.

Exactly three hours twenty-five minutes and 13 seconds - she timed it - was how long it took for Tony to say something, to be honest she was shocked it took him that long.

“Y/n can we talk?”

“If it’s an apology I don’t want it, it mean’s absolutely nothing to me. If it’s about the mission, then yes we can talk.”

“We need to apologise Y/n/n”

The nickname coming from Sam’s lips make her flinch. “I don’t want it nor need it.”

The quinjet fell silent once again.

That was until Bucky broke it. “I never cheated on you”

Everyone noticed the flash of pain in her eyes, “what?”

“I never slept with Nat, we pretended in order to hurt you, ba-Y/n we believed that you betrayed us”

“Believed Sharon don’t you mean.”

“We-I didn-“

“Awesome.”

“What?”

“I think it’s funny that instead of asking me and oh I don’t know believing me, instead you all believed a desperate blonde who had to settle for the man who still pines after her dead aunt, it’s quite absurd to me really.”

“We didn’t know what to believe Y/n. You’re the one that killed Sharon s-“ Steve speaks and ultimately gets cut off.

“I only killed her because I had no other choice!”

“There’s always a choice” He spat back.

“You’re right. But that night I didn’t have one, I wish it wasn’t but she left me no choice!”

“Why did you do it?”

“Pilot how long do we have long left?” They all look baffled by her change of the subject.

“We’re nearly here Miss”.

“Thanks” turning to look Bucky directly in the eyes “when this is all over Doug can explain it to you, end of discussion.”

The quinjet lowers to the ground and everyone takes their leave, just as Y/n walked past Douglas she slides two things into his pocket before gripping his hand and smiling towards him, he squeezes her hand and leans over to place a kiss to her temple.

Bullets fly freely, smoke fill their lungs, grunts and screams are heard. Pushing forwards they all work as one.

They had only been there for less than an hour before the remaining members of The Lords surrender.

After all the intel was gathered, the prisoners on board, they hear the sound of another jet.

“What the hell?” Tony asks.

The Avengers watch as Y/n gives each of her team a lingering hug - who all apart from Douglas looked confused.

As she gets to Doug hugging him too, she whispers something into his ear that even the two super soldiers couldn’t hear, pulling back they stand to attention and salute one another.

She says nothing as she passes them and up the soldiers who put handcuffs on her.

“What the hell just happen-“ Bucky stumbles out but is cut off when the jet carrying the woman who he was still very much in love with inside exploded.

Marley screams and the sound breaks Douglas’s heart, he grabs the woman who he’s always seen as his daughter in his arms as well as Colleen who falls to her knees. Marco stands there with his dark brown eyes not moving away from the still falling parts of the jet.

The Avengers, they all have silent tears streaming down their cheeks, none of them know what to say or do. They’ve just witnessed the person who at one point they trusted more than anything, the person they all betrayed just die.

Douglas walks past them all with both women in his arms and walks straight up the ramp with Marco following behind.

When everyone’s on board the quinjet they see him sitting in the seat Y/n was occupying.

“The day she walked in on you fucking her best friend she found out she was pregnant. The night she killed Sharon, Hydra had showed up at her home wanting the babies, that scar she has-had on her cheek was from a bullet graze, Sharon tried to kill Y/n - caused her to go into early labour. Y/n killed Sharon because she had no other choice, hell she even gave the blonde bitch an out. When me and my wife got there she was in the middle of delivering her second baby.” He shakes his head sadly “the reason my best friend is dead is because of us” pointing to himself and the other three “she made a decision to leave her babies behind just so we didn’t get given the death penalty”.

Douglas pulls out the items Y/n had put into his pocket, her ring - the one with two love hearts that represented her twins, and her dog tags that also had two smaller tags with the twins names, date of birth engraved on them.

“James, she made me and my wife adopt the twins. She knew exactly what she was going to do when Ross talked to her about their deal, she said it was okay for us to let you see them. But please don’t think for one second that you’ll be able to take them away from us, because pal even if you are a super solider I’ll still kill you.”

Bucky sits there with tears in his eyes, “what’s their names?”

“Logan-Douglas and Harlow-Francesca” Doug tells him with a smile.

“Ca-if it’s okay with you and your wife, can I meet them?”

“You won’t try anything stupid?”

“No, god no of course not!”

“Then yeah that can be arranged.”

For two years Bucky sees the children he didn’t know existed until two years ago.

His heart dropped to his stomach when Douglas took him to the house that Y/n had brought for them to live in after they retired. It became the warm loving home for Douglas, Fran and the kids.

Bucky did retire, the day after he lost the love of his life and met his children for the first time, and not only that but he also brought the house next door.

He formed a great bond with the couple who let him see the kids whenever he wanted - which was now every day since he moved next door.

The bond he had with his children was now unbreakable. Everyday he was reminded of what he lost and lost out of just by looking at their adorable little faces. He loved them so deeply, loving them at its purest form. He wishes more than anything that he could go back in time and redo everything all over again, but since he can’t he continues to make up for lost time.

He’s sat in the living room with the kids, Doug and Fran when a knock comes from the front door, he watches as Doug goes to answer and truly didn’t think anything of it.

“Hi babies” A warm voice says.

“Momma!” The twins scream in unison.

Shooting up from were he was laying on the floor building with the Lego set Steve brought Logan, he watches his kids jump up and run over to Y/n who instantly picks them up.

She’s alive. She’s standing right in front of him. His chest tightens. She’s really here.

“H-how?” He whispers but she hears it.

“You’ve been doing so great with them, I’ve been watching” she smiles.

He walks slowly over to her as she puts the kids down and he doesn’t hesitate or think about it before he smashes his lips to hers.

“I still love you Y/n/n”

“I still love you Bucky”

The kids squeal and jump in circles around their parents as Doug and Fran hold on to each other.

Y/n pulls away from the man she still loves after everything and picks up her big babies.

“I told you I’ll always come back”

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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luveline · 8 months

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Hi! I just read Prince steve's shot of the steampunk au and god, I loved it. I saw below it said you could make a request for it, so I wanted to know if you could do one about the how they met. I know it's mentioned, but I'd like to see what it was like at the time, if it's not too much trouble.

PS: qmo how you write, you are one of my role models 💕.

prince!steve au ♡ fem, 1.1k

Young people stand like dominoes in the sun, teetering, waiting to topple in on one another if given reason. Nine days of bated breath, the city waits in a ramping anticipation for Prince Steven to meet his soulmate.

You're almost hoping it isn't you so you can go home and rest your aching legs. Hours in the warm summer air, your worst dress sticking to the back of your clammy knees. You're not fit to meet the Prince. But… if you meet the Prince, and you were to somehow be his soulmate, you'd live an easy life.

You'd live in a Palace, wear the finest clothes, eat the nicest foods (three times a day!). You could spend your days lounging under crystal chandeliers eating plates of fruit and expensive cheeses, air-conditioned and always smelling of vanilla, or sandalwood, or saffron. You've never tried saffron perfume, but it's the most expensive at the apothecary.

The line mills shorter. You follow close to the heels of a girl dressed in better finery, a cherry red dress that looks like it's made of thin sheets of glass, her dark hair coiled in sweet cherubic curls at the back of her neck. They bounce with every step you take closer to the pedestal. You attach your attention to them, following the winding twist of them to the root over and over.

You want very badly to be the Prince's soulmate. You'd be stupid not to want such luxury. But letting yourself believe that it's you out of the tens of thousands of eligible young people is asking to feel disheartened.

You convince yourself for the millionth time that it's not you as you follow the line inside of the royal gardens. Trees with weeping branches arc inward, their leaves kissing and sunlight dappled onto the people below. You feel it warming your skin as you take the final stretch.

Apparently, for the King's soulmate search, he simply held out his arm and let women touch the inside of his palm with their pinky finger. He did this for two days. Prince Steven's search is taking much longer, as he's insisted on greeting and shaking the hands of everyone who's presented themselves.

You wonder what that might feel like. He's a super pretty man, with exactly the sort of smile a Prince might hope to have. Whenever you see him on the holo screens you feel sick, wanting desperately to remain indifferent to him, but knowing you're just like every other silly young person in the kingdom. You want to be a special perfect royal. You want to take his hand and leave behind your disappointing life.

Too bad it's a fantasy.

"Next, please," says a young woman with red hair, looking at you pointedly.

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth and walk determined to the top of the garden. Up three gentle steps and into a Palace of white, pearly stone. There's a long corridor lined with guards who eye you as you draw in. Deemed decidedly undangerous, they let you pass into a makeshift reception. You'd already had your name taken to be allowed in the line; nothing stands in your way of the Prince but chiffon pink curtains that shine like rose honey in the sun and a surprisingly small girl with a sword.

And there, among an audience of officials and important people, sits the Prince. He looks smaller than you imagined, a little tired. The girl with the sword kicks his shin and he perks up, to the ire of the older members of his court.

"Hey," he calls, "don't be shy! And don't be slow, either. Please. I missed dinner last night–" The girl clears her throat. Prince Steven takes on a more princely effect. "Please, come in."

The audience isn't exactly paying attention. Any hope they had for a soul mate today has seemingly passed, and you can hear a few poorly muffled scoffs at your appearance. Surely the girl before you posed a more pleasing possibility. She looked like a princess.

You stall a few paces from him.

He frowns at you. In his garb, his neat clothes, a heavy platinum crown atop his head, he's strangely intimidating. You assumed he'd feel more familiar up close, like buying a gemstone from the catalogues and finding they've sent you zirconium, but it's the opposite.

"Are you okay?" the girl asks.

"She's fine," Prince Steven says, standing up from his ornate chair. He steps down from the short platform, even his steps a princely brand of perfection. "Well you're more than fine," he says to you, and you gather from the get go that he's not flirting with you, only joking to ease your nerves.

He offers his hand.

You take in a breath and approach him with measured steps. Being run through by his personal guards crystal sword isn't on your agenda this week.

All you have to do is touch his hand and go home when nothing happens. You're nervous, but stalling any longer prolongs the awkwardness you've created.

You step forward.

Before your fingers can touch his palm, the feathered lines curled around your opposite wrists begin to glow.

A silence falls.

You take your hand back but the light doesn't fade. It's white, nearly cream in colour, with the density of fog but none of its cold. Prince Steven's eyes are wide and awash, the sun-kissed skin of his arm paled. "You–" he says, stepping forward again.

You take his hand. You have to know.

White light sears and then blooms, like petals unfurling, the source of it indistinguishable from your wrist or his. And then, when you're sure your heart might fall out of your mouth, the light dims. What remains is thin as fairy floss wrapped around your skin and his.

He rubs the meat of your thumb with the tip of his, and that light glows soft pink, like flower jam.

"It's you," he says. He sounds happy, as though you were a pleasant surprise.

You tuck your hand behind your back, and the glow remains. It's you. You're Prince Steven's soul mate.

"She doesn't look much like a princess," someone whispers.

"I wouldn't say that," Prince Steven says, his eyes roving over you without apology. His smile is as authentic as they come. "I think you'd better meet my mother."

"Now?" you ask.

"Afraid so. Don't worry, though, you look pretty." He offers his hand again. "Come on."

He's a prince. You take his hand.

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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devondespresso · 4 months

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(found this bad boy in my drafts and honestly i loved reading it again so we're gonna post it. wahoo)

my personal canon for post-starcourt stobin is that they're actually inseparable for the first month or so

im talking steve taken to the hospital for his injuries and the staff having to force them apart and call security. im talking they have to drag robin kicking and screaming to a different room because last time Steve left her sight he was dragged back lifeless and presumably dead (i firmly believe they intentionally used physical torture for steve and to use his condition for psychological torture for robin)

and steve waking up half-present in a cold plain room alone? might as well be back in the bunker. and if theres doctors trying to run tests and examine his wounds? might as well be Russian soldiers standing over him and touching his injuries. hurting him again. possibly planning to hurt Robin next.

and now hospital staff are trying to deal with two screaming desperate teenagers who keep begging for the other in between rambles of nonsense and they can't run tests or do their jobs or even get answers from them because all these two seem to care about is the other teen

so they don't really have any practical choices other than moving them to a combined room. and they still freak out every now and then but having the other in the room keeps these outbursts much shorter and doctors are able to actually run tests and help these kids as long as they're close together. And when Robins blood tests and everything come back ok and shes able to be discharged, shes given special permission to stay in the room at all times

and the two little kids that came in with them? they're not exactly freaking out quite like the teens but they're certainly not making things easy either. Ericas testing the willpower of any doctor or nurse she can speak to and both kids stay as close as they can at all times and refuse to leave the hospital. visiting hours over? they're in the waiting room, even convinced a couple to move so they can have seats closest to the hall that teens room is in. try to call their parents? good luck getting a full name or number out of them. once their parents do come get them they're showing back up in an hour, bikes lodged in the bike rack and back in their seats. they've been stopped for sneaking in several times and caught hiding under one of the teens beds even more often. eventually staff just gets tired of spending half their shift wrangling two middle schoolers and it becomes an unspoken agreement to just ignore them hiding in the room.

And once Steve is discharged its the same thing all over again. Robins parents were worried about her spending all her time in the hospital with the boy from her summer job, but given the cover story about the fire and the pair getting trapped inside they convinced themselves its reasonable to want to stay by your friends side while they recover

but now that hes out, shes asking if she can spend the night at his house? and his parents won't be there? absolutely not. except robins in no mindset to accept leaving him alone for this long let alone overnight so she tried sneaking out to bike over to his before he can get the dumb idea to drive over in the middle of the night post-concussion. but the buckleys notice shes gone either because she makes too much noise sneaking out or they notice the severe lack of Robin-trying-to-be-quiet noises into the night (robin my tism queen definitely has bump-into-shit syndrome in the middle of the night but she also doesn't make any noise sneaking around the base with scoops troop so i think it's a 50/50 weather she can use the adrenaline to sneak out to see steve quietly)

so they put two and two together and drive over to the Harrington house. steve answers the door and calls robin over, both of them looking sheepish but not exactly guilty. they talk on steves couch (yes Steves there too) and stobin does their best to explain their separation anxiety that gets the severity across without getting them sent to a mental hospital all while making sure not to break any ndas (which ends up being a long conversation with stobin trying to translate their experience in the bunker to fit the cover story well enough, which is very different when the real story is kidnapping and the fake one is a building fire)

eventually they reach an understanding of "we're worried this is kinda unhealthy but its clearly more stressful to try and separate you right now and we're definitely not going to be able to stop you" so they compromise to let steve stay at the buckleys for a little bit so they can at least keep an eye on them. at first they try just letting steve sleep on the couch (which they agree to because steve worried about overstepping as the guest in their house) but one or both of them have nightmares the first night and robin ends up on the couch with him anyway.

after a few nights they get the gist of the stobin dynamic: attached so strongly its concerning but nothing... flirty. anything they do is always completely innocent. hand holding with no heart eyes, banter with no tension, hell even sharing a bed they resemble little kids in a sleepover pile more than lovers. and especially after nightmares they'll find robin holding steve like hes just one of her old teddy bears.

of course theyre still cautious and have their suspicions that theyre secretly dating and just really good at hiding it, they're paranoid parents after all and robins never shown this much attention to a boy ever. but they do relax a bit with it as they're more confident theres no... funny business.. going on. or at the very least nothing thats going to leave robin hurt. they'll have their talks and robin will promise its "nothing like that", but they've grown to like steve so they're sure robin will come to them when shes ready.

now if only there was a reasonable explanation for the middle schoolers that keep showing up. apparently they were also trapped in the fire with robin and steve which helps make some sense of it, but they also sat with them in the hospital. surely if they're having nightmares about the fire they'd go to their parents? they hadn't really talked much with the sinclairs but they seemed like very loving parents and robin follows steve to his little dinners with mrs Henderson pretty often so its not likely that they can't go to their parents about nightmares, but they seem to prefer going to steve specifically. like ringing the Buckley's doorbell at 1 in the morning asking if steves there. and of course they'll let them in and show them to robins room (after calling their parents first, do they even know their childs run off?) where steve was sleeping in a pallet on the floor but is now a glorified blanket pile robins hugging. on her bed, of course. because god forbid theres 2 feet of space between them.

and the kid just joins them in their sleepover pile, dustin usually clinging to steves other side like a baby koala and erica usually finding a spot leaning against robin or occasionally making room in between them

and so more often than not the Buckley's have not one, not two, but three extra children in their house that isn't their daughter, all of them sleeping in a pile on robins bed like theres nowhere else they'd rather be

#stranger things #stobin #platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #steve and robin #platonic with a capital p #platonic soulmates stobin #stranger things season 3 #post-starcourt #devon thinks sometimes

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shares-a-vest · 2 months

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@steddielovemonth Day 28: Love is… When you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him (Prompt by @starryeyedjanai)

wc: 733 | Rated: T for suggestive language | cw: None

Tags: Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Family Video, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Jeff (not present but mentioned a lot), Cliffhanger Ending (might write a cheeky sequel tomorrow)

'Lips'

Eddie should have known it was a mistake to visit Family Video on his lunch break. His excuse to Jeff was that the store had better air conditioning than the mechanic shop. Aka, an air conditioner.

Besides, he promised his friend that he wouldn’t be all that long.

Unlike yesterday.

… Or the day before.

And that no, Jefferson, best friend dearest compatriot, it has nothing to do with Steve Harrington’s summer attire – a good ol’-fashioned too-tight polo and a pair of jean shorts that have not been rotating around in his pea-brain for the better part of a month and a half now that they are in the throws of an Indiana summer.

Nope. None of that.

Nor does his desperation to skip down three blocks and waste his entire lunch break have anything to do with the chapstick Steve has taken to wearing (though Robin’s recent snickering suggests the reddish-pink pouty blessing is a Harrington Summer Standard).

But Eddie just can’t stop staring as his completely kissable crush bemoans working a double shift.

... Or something.

He isn’t really sure because Steve just bit his lip in annoyance – Keith! He definitely just mentioned that loser! – and, well, now there’s an indent on his bottom lip that is making Eddie think about how red they could get if they were all kiss-bitten and...

Eddie forces himself to look up from the plush pout Steve has permanently plastered to his face when he is bitching.

He is met with a faint crinkle in Steve’s brow and yeah, it is probably quite obvious he is not paying attention. His eye wanders above Steve’s frown to the beads of sweat pearling at his hairline.

He gulps.

No, no, no!

This can’t be happening! Steve cannot start sweating too.

It’s bad enough that Eddie has seen him all hot and bothered, his delicious chest hair all matted and grimy as they ran for their lives in an undead hellscape. And their late afternoon sojourns to the Quarry are downright cruel as Steve strips off his sweat-stained shirt to reveal equally sweaty hair that trails down, down, all the way down beyond his waistband to what is surely a sizeable –

“– Eddie!”

He grips the counter between them with grease-stained fingers and holds on for dear life.

“Huh?” he grunts, his eyes landing back on those lips like it’s now the worst possible habit he could ever have the misfortune of developing.

Because Steve is, well, Steve Harrington. Ladies Man. Casanova. Dorky wooer and hot former-jock turned actual good dude.

Stevie H. who’s all plush and pouty and... Moisturised.

Those lips look soft, don’t they?

And maybe the reddish hue is a sign of a flavour? Perhaps cherry? Maybe even strawberry?

Eddie licks his own bone-dry lips as he thinks about tasting it.

Tasting Steve...

How those beautiful smackers would look all swollen from spending time wrapped around his –

“Are you even listening?” Steve whines, lightly smacking the counter with his gigantic, manly hand.

“Yeah – oh… um, yeah sure, man,” he splutters.

Steve’s sceptical frown faulters, softening as he looks Eddie over. He purses those lips.

Fuck.

It’s painfully obvious, isn’t it?

Eddie closes his eyes and sucks in a breath.

Jeff was right. Today, a mere ten minutes ago... Yesterday... The day before...

He should just let go of the counter, turn heel and run back to work to sweat his balls off. At least there he wouldn't be confronted with he tantalising mouth of one Steve Harrington and all the filthy thoughts that come with staring at them.

His wristwatch beeps in agreement – a warning alarm Jeff set by yanking at his arm before he stepped out of the shop on his merry way.

“Hey,” he begins, clearing his throat as he dares open his eyes again.

And he finds Steve staring back, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his sinful mouth. He licks his lips and those hazel, now greedy-looking eyes flit down and linger there.

As if they are examining...

“I gotta go!” Eddie screeches.

His shout sends Steve shooting upright from where he had drifted into leaning across the counter.

Eddie launches himself backwards, stumbling towards the door as he incoherently splutters about Jeff and gaskets and the miserable PB&J sandwich he has waiting for him in his beat-up lunch tin.

“Eddie, wait!”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #family video 📼#steve x eddie #steddie ficlet

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vampworks · 1 month

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Satisfaction

Loki x Vampire! Reader

MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Blood, Vampirism, Smut, language, angst

A/n: the first bit of spice I've written and omg I don't know how to feel about it. Anyway, vampires ima right?

Stalking the halls of the tower, I never felt so lonely until now. The thirst has all but consumed my nights. Sleep had long since been completely off the table as the hunger set in, leaving me with a pair of red eyes and a screaming pit in my core, slowly haunting the same rooms I used to run through with a smile.

Today’s failed mission flashes through my head as I pass the kitchen. Creeping into cabinets and the fridge as I remember the sheer joy ripped away from me as my “meal” escaped. I slammed it shut and heard Steve lecture me on discipline on the jet all over again. It’s like he actually wants me to starve. After all of Bruce’s testing and the grueling rules, my insides seem to rip and tear within me. This was my chance to finally feel even remotely full. All of nothing.

I heard faint snores, hushed voices, and the clink and clang of metal in the lab beneath my feet. One sound rang louder than them all whether it was a blessing and a curse, the soft beat of their hearts. It brought me closer to them most nights. It reminded me that they were all okay.

I found myself silently counting the beats of Bucky's heart on the roof. It was grounding whenever I heard it. His very presence was grounding. He looked at me differently from the rest of the team like he actually understood me. I knew I’d be able to rest with him. The team was still uneasy around me because of my new 'condition' but not him. Im tempted to join him until the sound of a familiar, honeyed voice filled my ears.

"Hello, little bat." He whispered into my ear. "L..Loki," I sighed. He lets out a sly smirk as I shiver. “Out for a late-night snack?" He teased. I can hear his heartbeat slow as he pulls away, but it quickens again when my eyes meet his. “Listen, I won't play games with you tonight. I’m starving and all I can hear in this damn tower is blood rushing through my veins, so please let me just wander around in peace.” I placed my hand on his chest to push him away, but he held it there. His face is void of emotion, but his heart betrays him as it continues to beat rapidly. My eyes trace his sharp features down his face and fall onto his throat. The thought of sucking him dry crossed my mind. Maybe I could play his game this once.

“You’re more like me than you think.” His words brought me out of my trance. “What’s that supposed to mean.” I hissed, and his grip on my hand tightened. “It means, My pet. Neither you nor I will ever be satisfied going on like this.” He cooed. Loki’s other hand traces down my arm, only to rest on my waist. His breath grows heavy and desperate now matching the loud drum of his heart.

I want all of him now. I knew it was the hunger speaking, but I will deal with my own heart’s desires later. I could tell his heart was calling out. Begging for an embrace or at least a source of warmth. He might just be right, satisfaction always seemed just out of reach. A single eternal moment passed before I gained the strength to respond. “What do you suggest we do about that then?” my voice dripping with need as I speak. Loki’s façade of excellence was falling, but the remnants stood fast in his posture and grip on my waist.

Ever the royal gentleman, even in such desperation. He stumbles on his word for only a second before proposing an exchange of warmth. "Genius, is it not?” He stammered. I stifle a laugh “It’s brilliant, Watson.” I tease. His smile was sickeningly sweet, but his dark green eyes begged for something more. I held my breath as I pulled him into me by his collar. "Jump.” He commands. I obey and am pulled into his arms. His heart beats as if it’s a heavy drum threatening to burst through his chest. I waste no time laying kisses upon his lips and down to his throat. The sound that erupts from him is heavenly. “You are mine,” I whisper into his ear. A jolt runs through his body as he takes off into a sprint to his room with me in hand.

In a second, my back falls into his black satin sheets. He quickly crawls on top of me with his left hand, caresses my cheek, and shifts his weight onto his right hand. His knee ever so gently pushed on my inner thigh just to be closer. My own hands wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangle in his long, dark curls. I swear I hear the slightest whimper as my rings tug on a braid within them. Feverish kisses linger as if the next could not come fast enough. His lips, raw with a crimson tint, now begged for me to bite them. My fangs nip at his bottom lip as his left-hand gathers my shirt up my back. The taste isn’t nearly enough, as my senses are clouded by him.

All around me is him. His honeyed voice rings in my ear while his touch burns like fire, despite his skin feeling like ice. My mind fogs as I slip from his grasp and flip him on his back in a single swift motion. I take my seat on his lap, looking into his dark green once more. I find his eyes blown wide, staring back into my red ones as our chests chase our breath in tandem.

“Dammit, every inch of you is breathtaking.” He says in a hoarse tone as his hand takes the purchase of my waist once again. My smile widens and I grind down into him. “God, I say the same for you.” My eyes trail down to his chest as my hands slide up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “Let me be one with you… Please, my love.” He pleads. I can only nod as a whine escapes my throat. “Not quite. Use those pretty words of yours.” He commands, his hand now holding my chin up to meet his gaze. “Fuck...yes, please, I want you.” I pleaded. In a green flash, all the clothes that withhold my warmth from him are gone, leaving only the two of us in a world all our own. “Perfect little dove, all for me.”

Shadows wrapped around my aching body, soothing and teasing anywhere they could reach. They slowly lifted me onto the tip of his length. All that can be heard throughout the room is a string of curses and gasps for air from us both as he sets a ravenous pace beneath me. “Such a beautiful little thing you are, aren’t you.” He rasped. I feel his entire body tremble, and my eyes squeeze as I slam down on him repeatedly. “Good, just like that.” He praises. “Give in to me.” The two of us grew delirious in the thrill of it all as we grew closer to release. "Loki, please” I begin to beg. “Please let me taste you.” My words were barely sensical as my body ached for him. “Oh God Yes, I am yours to devour.” The shadows dissipate as I nuzzle in his chest, and his pace falters as my fangs graze and puncture his skin. I fed from him feverishly as he ruts into me, his grip on my waist is so tight leaving dark red marks in its wake. I moan in pure ecstasy at the taste and feeling.

Time stands still as we reach the very end. A flurry of moans and whimpers ring between us while satisfaction finally sets in. Tears began to fall from my eyes as the hole in my chest filled with warmth. After coming down from the high, Loki begins to unravel the two of us from the sheets. He lays me beside him, only for me to burrow into his chest once again. His arms wrapped around me, and he hummed sweet nothing into my hair.

After a moment, Loki began to lift me into the air. “While I love nothing more than to stay here with you forever, I fear we must shower, my dear.” I only respond with a muffled whine. “My apologies, my sweet. A bath, then? I fear no one is sleeping anymore anyway.”

#loki x reader #loki (marvel)#loki smut #vampire reader #loki fanfic #angst #loki x y/n #gn reader #marvel fic #marvel x reader #Spotify

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ladykailitha · 3 months

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Batshit Soulmates Part 3

Hey guys! More of this delicious AU.

Steve is suffering under the effects of the truebond. And things get a little dire for Max, too.

In Medias Res| Prologue|Pt 1| Pt 2|

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve got back to his house and immediately stripped down to hop in the shower. He turned the water to as hot as it would go. He needed to drown out his thoughts and hot water would help with that.

He washed and conditioned his hair, allowing the conditioner to do its thing while he did the rest of his routine. Once he was done, he rinsed his hair.

He towel dried his hair, taking the time to squeeze out as much of the water as he could. He stopped himself as he realized what he was doing. He was primping for Eddie. A wanted fugitive who couldn’t care less what Steve’s hair looked like. He tried not primp when he got dressed. But he still managed to put on his nicest polo and tightest jeans, anyway. He did try to de-slut himself by adding the white undershirt.

Which of course made the polo tighter and thereby defeating the purpose. Steve just shrugged. Max was waiting for him and changing now would only waste time he really didn’t have.

****

Eddie was not having a good time. He was hungry and hunted and more than a little haunted. Sleep was fitful at best. He just hoped he wasn’t screaming in his sleep. That would have really brought him unwanted attention.

He tried find ways to entertain himself. Because if seeing Chrissy die like that didn’t make him crazy, being alone with nothing to do was going to drive him the rest of the way there.

He finally resorted to tossing bottle tabs, coins, and other small items into a cup to see how many he could get in.

Eddie was losing.

Suddenly there was the crunch of tires on gravel and he was on his feet in an instant. He grabbed his broken bottle and peeked out the window. He couldn’t see the vehicle that pulled up. Was it the cops? Someone else?

The door to the boathouse burst open and Eddie was sure his heart burst with it.

There standing in the doorway looking more than a little sheepish were his rescuers. Dustin, Robin, Max, and Steve bringing up the rear. Steve gave a little hand wave and he forced himself to breath normally again. He glared at them to know that what they did was a little fucked up.

They explained everything to him as simply as possible. Steve actually was kind and walked him through each new piece of information to make sure he understood.

Afterwards when they were getting ready to leave again, Eddie pulled Robin aside.

“Um...” he said rocking back on his heels, hands on his back, “so you’re running with Steve Harrington now?”

Robin opened her mouth the say something mean, but she knew what he was really asking. “Yeah, monsters and monstrous humans tend to make for great social glue.”

“And he knows...” he said trailing off. “He knows?”

She knew what he was trying desperately not to say. Did Steve know she was gayer than a May pole? She nodded. “Yeah. I know what he was like in high school, but he’s not like that anymore.”

Eddie nodded. “It’s just wild you know.”

“Having King Steve as your soulmate?” she asked tilting her head to the side.

He let out a shuddering breath and pressed his together. He closed his eyes and then opened them slowly. “How do you even deal with that?”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

Eddie frowned. “You haven’t found your soulmate yet?” It was just surprising. Yeah, Steve and him hadn’t found each other until their late teens/early twenties. But that was rare.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh no, I know who she is. Pretty sure she knows it’s me, as well, but she has decided that fellow band geek Robin Buckley just isn’t her flavor or such shit.”

His frown deepened. “It’s Vickie Cameron, isn’t it?”

Robin cocked her head to the side. “How did you know that?”

He opened his mouth and closed a couple of times before he said, “Look, the safest place to deal...” he gave her a pointed look warning her to keep her mouth shut.

She mimed zipping it closed.

“Is behind the community center next the swimming pool,” he explained. “I’d deal, use some of the money to cool off in the summer because my trailer ain’t great when it comes to not being as hot as the devil’s tit.”

Robin wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

“The point is I saw her soulmark,” Eddie growled. “It’s a trumpet. On her shoulder. Right where I’m guessing there’s a clarinet on yours.” He nodded toward her. ��What is she, homophobic or some shit?”

She shrugged. “Who the fuck knows. She doesn’t treat me badly and sometimes I even think she’s flirting with me, but she has a boyfriend who’s in college so...”

Eddie winced. “That sucks.”

Robin scoffed. “About as bad as learning your soulmate is your antithesis or whatever in the middle of another apocalypse.”

He could only agree, but they were getting off the topic at hand. “Has Steve said anything to you about being my soulmate?”

She sighed. “Only that it fucking sucked learning about it with a bottle pressed to his throat.”

Eddie sighed, too. “Look, I wouldn’t have done anything. I was scared and alone and jocks hate me. Like I thought Jason has sent him, okay?”

Robin blinked. “Oh because of the basketball thing?”

Eddie nodded.

“I guess that makes sense,” she said. “But he really fell from grace when Billy smashed in his head. He’s just this lovable goof with a heart of gold.”

She paused for a second.

“Like I think he always was.” She patted his shoulder and went to join the others.

Steve told the others to go out to the car and jogged back to Eddie.

“It’s too dangerous to move you right now,” Steve murmured. “But we’ll try to stay on the walkies, okay?”

Eddie nodded. “Just don’t forget I’m here, man.”

Steve gripped Eddie’s arms. “We won’t, but we have to find out what’s going on and we’re going to be spread pretty thin. I wish there was another way to do this.”

Eddie let out a long breath, not quite a sigh. “I’ll try, man. If you guys are right about all this shit, I’m really scared. Plus with the town thinking it was me...”

“We’ll figure it out,” Steve promised.

Eddie nodded again and settled down to wait it all out. At least he had food and drink, which was more than he had before.

****

All this running around looking for clues was shit on Steve’s nerves. He was close to screaming. He had almost taken Lucas’s head off when the kid came tearing around a blind corner at night in the high school they had just broken into.

And Robin was doing that thing she always does when faced with a pretty girl, flirt. Which considering said pretty girl was not only Steve’s ex, but already soulmated? Yeah, Steve was sure his breaking point was going to hit sooner rather than later.

It came when Max started rising in the air like some fucked up messiah. Because he could tell something was wrong he was able to get ahold of Robin and Nancy who told them about the music and Lucas was able to find her favorite song on her Walkman and play it for her, she didn’t get Vecna’ed or whatever the hell it was the kids were calling it.

Once she was safe he sat down on the ground hard and buried his head in his hands. He fought to breathe, barely making it through the gasps of sobs that were torn out of him.

How can they fight something that could take anyone of them at anytime? How is he supposed to protect the people he loves most from an unseen force?

He had to keep it together. For Max because she was the victim here. For Lucas because he almost had to watch his soulmate get ripped from him. For Eddie who was frightened beyond the pale. He had to be the strong one.

And then he felt warm arms around him.

“She’s safe now,” Dustin murmured. “We got to her in time because of you. That was scary as hell, but it would have been worse if you had listened to Lucas and me. A lot worse.”

Steve lifted his head and nodded. “Thanks, bud.”

Dustin helped him stand. “We have to get everyone together.”

Steve nodded. “I just wish there was to include Eddie without telegraphing to the asshats in town where he is.”

Dustin grimaced. “Yeah, but there isn’t.” He looked at Steve a moment. “How are you doing? I don’t think I’ve seen you like this before.”

Steve showed him his soulmark. It was black and angry.

“Why does it look like that?” Dustin nearly screamed.

Lucas and Max came running and they looked down at Steve’s mark, too.

“Shit,” Max hissed. “That’s not good. Why didn’t you tell anyone you and Eddie were true soulmates?”

Lucas and Dustin looked at her in shock.

“A what now?” Lucas asked, looking back and forth at Steve and Max in confusion.

“True mates,” Dustin said slowly in disbelief. “I’ve only read about those. They’re super rare.”

“It means,” Max hissed, “that Steve can’t be separated from his soulmate for long otherwise he gets super sick.”

“But only after they touch each other’s marks,” Dustin finished. “Why did you that? Why did you touch each other’s marks if that was going to happen?”

Steve huffed. “Because Dustin, you don’t know you’re true mates until after you touch.”

“Oh,” Lucas and Dustin said together.

“This is bad, Steve,” Max huffed ignoring the boys. “You have to get back to Eddie.”

Steve shook his head. “I can last a little bit longer. You’re in danger, Max. That’s more important than me.”

“But what about Eddie?” Dustin asked. “Won’t he get sick, too?”

Steve threw back his head and groaned. “I can’t take care of everyone at once. Plus, if I keep going back to the boathouse someone will see and come to check it out. That would do far more harm to Eddie than being a stupid true mate to someone like me.”

Dustin and Lucas glanced at each other and then each held out their hand to Steve. He took each of their hands and allowed the two boys to haul him to his feet.

“How close do you think you have to be to stop it from burning?” Dustin asked Max.

Max shrugged. “My mom and Neil aren’t truemates so I don’t know for sure. But a hell of a lot closer than cemetery to the lake.”

Dustin nodded. “Would Skull Rock be close enough?”

“Or even just driving past the lake might work,” Lucas suggested.

Steve hugged them both. “I’ll visit him tomorrow, we just need to get everyone else together to discuss what happened to Max.”

They all nodded.

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @oxidantdreamboat @mogami13 @samsoble @xandriumbat @ellietheasexylibrarian @lololol-1234 @y4r3luv @disrespectedgoatman

#stranger things #my writing #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #soulmate au #alternate season 4 #byler #lumax #jancy #dustin/suzie #robin/vickie

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eddies-artofsuffering · 1 year

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Part I: Sweet Tooth

(Part II)

Eddie stares down at his wristwatch. One minute to noon. Just one more minute.

“Want us to clear the path?” Argyle claps him on his shoulder and squeezes. “It’s almost time.”

“I don’t – I don’t know. Maybe you guys could stand behind the kitchen doors? You can see through the windows, right?” Eddie scrunches his nose.

He can feel it, he’s been conditioned to it by now, the familiar pit of anticipation. Other people may call it butterflies. Eddie thinks it’s more like pterodactyls breathing fire inside his stomach. He desperately needs someone to hold his fucking hand during this hardship.

But he also really, really doesn’t want anyone up close to witness him making a fool of himself in front of Hot Steve - a new regular customer at their cafe. An incredibly attractive guy who works at the bookstore next door.

Eddie can NOT fuck this up. It only happens once a day, for a maximum of three minutes.

“Maybe today’s the day you ask him out,” Jonathan smiles. Dude never smiles with his eyes. It’s kind of unsettling.

“Absolutely not, have you seen Hot Steve?” Eddie groans. “There’s no way he plays for my team. He’s –“

The doorbell chimes. Eddie’s head snaps towards the entrance, mouth falling open. Hot Steve is walking towards him, holy shit. It’s go time. Eddie shoos his coworkers away with a frantic wave, straightens his name tag, and rests his chin on his palm and bends over a little, elbow on the counter.

This is always the way he greets Hot Steve. It’s his signature move. Although, it hasn’t really worked yet. If it worked, Eddie would’ve won Hot Steve’s attention by now. But this is the best he got at the moment, damn it.

“Hi, Eds, how are you doing?” Hot Steve is wearing a baby-blue button-down today, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His name tag pin on the left side of his chest glints.

Eddie loves that Steve came up with that nickname on his own, despite only having seen him here at Cafe Byers for, like, two weeks now.

“Better now that you’re here.” Eddie gives him a cheeky smile, If Argyle and Jonathan were here, they might’ve been impressed with how smooth it sounded; they always comment on the way he flirts, the things he says. If you ever said shit like that to me, I’d be hella blushing, brochacho. You know you got game, right?

What they don’t know is that these lines are rehearsed in his head, so many times. It’s all Eddie ever does: practice pickup lines for Hot Steve.

“Right out of the gate, huh? You're makin' me blush,” Hot Steve smiles, and honestly, it’s hard to tell if he’s blushing at all. Or if he’s even flustered. Hot Steve's always so confident. “I’ll get a latte. With oat milk, please?”

“Oh?” Oat milk? That’s new. Steve didn’t care last time what milk he was getting. Interesting. Or is it? Eddie decides to file that information away for later. “Yea, coming right up.”

“Thanks.”

Another thing about Hot Steve that really does something to Eddie’s overworked pterodactyls, is that he never has a phone with him. Or on him. If it is, it's never visible.

Which is odd, because the entire café is littered with folks who cannot tear their eyes away from their little gadgets and devices, especially their phones; most people can’t even wait for their drinks without looking at them, checking something constantly, emails or texts or whatever.

And, well, Hot Steve never does any of that. He always waits at the end of the counter, patiently watching Eddie making drinks. It always makes him feel so self-conscious. Eddie’s burnt his hands under hot steam a couple of times, actually.

But these two, maybe three minutes of Eddie making a fresh beverage for Hot Steve – this is the only time he gets to make small talk with him. Each time, he learns something new about him, or confirms something that Eddie’s already inferred. The grand question of the day is: “So, who’s the drink for?”

Hot Steve blinks rapidly, as if coming out of a daze. “Uh – what?”

“Whose drink is this?” Eddie says, tamping the coffee grounds. “I’m assuming it’s not yours.”

“How… did you know it’s not mine?” he narrows his eyes.

God. It’s really telling, isn’t it, that Eddie’s noticed these things? “First time for you to ask for oat milk, so. I don’t know, I figured,” he shrugs.

Hot Steve opens his mouth as if to say something. Then he doesn’t. In the corner of Eddie’s eyes, he sees him nodding with pursed lips, with a hint of a smirk. It’s so distracting that Eddie almost heats up regular milk despite this whole conversation being around someone’s (not Steve’s, apparently) preference for plant-based milk. Oops.

He finishes making the latte and walks over to the cash register, handing over the drink. Steve receives it with a small thanks.

But Eddie knows Steve's not quite done here today. Because, when you have a tiny (massive) crush on a near-stranger, you just, kind of look for patterns. That’s just how human minds work; Eddie has been carefully collecting all the little information about Hot Steve, just based on the few minutes that he spends at the café at noon.

Which is how that Eddie’s almost certain (almost, because there’s always room for anomalies) what Hot Steve’s about to do when he asks, “Is that it for today?”

“Oh – um,” Hot Steve scans the glass case of assorted desserts and baked goods, subconsciously wetting his lips. “Actually, yea. Can I have the blueberry crumble, please?”

This is one of the very few predictable things about him. Eddie doesn’t know why Hot Steve even looks at the shelves of sweets each time as if he’s ever going to make a different choice, because it’s always the same, the only constant pattern besides his entrance that he’s ever shown Eddie: the house blueberry crumble, the ones that Eddie bakes himself.

And every time Hot Steve asks for it, Eddie has to turn around and flex his arms, letting out a silent scream of victory, because Hot Steve is fucking hooked on those things. It’s truly incredible to know that he wants it. Eddie pours his heart and soul into those.

“Of course, babe,” he swoops down, takes a small square piece out with tongs, wraps it in a pocket of parchment paper. “D’you know I bake these every morning?”

“You – it’s you?” Hot Steve’s eyes widen comically. “Wow. I thought they were, like, shipped over from a bakery or something.”

“We do have an oven,” Eddie points behind the kitchen with his thumb and looks back, makes a mistake of drawing attention to the door, only remembering then that Argyle and Jonathan are probably watching this whole thing. Really hoping that they’re being discreet.

“That’s amazing. I – I love them,” he says, not at all looking behind, thank God. “Guess you’re good with your hands.”

Eddie could practically hear the angelic chorus from the sky. Holy shit. Hot Steve loves his crumbles. Fuck. He could cry.

But, you know. Everything always comes to an end, and that’s usually how far their conversation goes. Nothing more than just small talk, and then Hot Steve would pay for the stuff, go back to the next-door bookstore where he works. And until the next day, it’s as if he doesn’t even exist. A mythical creature that only appears during those three minutes in time and space, then vanishes afterwards.

So he tries, just one last time before he leaves. “Steve?”

“Yea?” Hot Steve looks up, batting his lashes. They’re – so – pretty. So long, delicate. Such a fucking contrast to his muscular arms and chest that his thin blue shirt does nothing to hide, sleeves and buttons ready to pop. It’s sinful.

Fuck, and time’s ticking, yet there are so many things Eddie wants to ask. What is your drink, then? ‘Cause you never get the same drink twice.

Why is it always at noon? Is that your break?

Where are you from? When does your shift end? You do work at the bookstore, right?

When are you free?

All of these are more or less reasonable, if not a tiny bit creepy questions. But any of these would’ve been so much better than what Eddie actually blurts out, so out of the left field that he surprises even himself: “So, uh, how much do you bench?”

Oh, fuck. Where the hell did that come from? Eddie cringes hard inside, unsure how those words, that kind of vernacular even came out of his mouth, please, he wants to rewind time -

But it's spilled oat milk. Guh. He crinkles his nose to prepare himself to apologize. Sorry. That was so – I’m not a gym bro. I’m not! Look at me! He's about to say, but:

“You wanna know?”

Hot Steve has a shit-eating grin on. That’s a first. There might even be a faint blush on his cheeks. Holy shit. Hot Steve took the fucking bait. Not that it was bait – it was just Eddie being a fucking disaster – but he nods all the same, stupidly. Of course he wants to know. He’s committed, now.

“Let’s see.” Hot Steve’s now circling around the counter to take a closer look at Eddie, eyes travelling up and down. It feels like Hot Steve is undressing him with his eyes. It’s kind of insane that they’re doing this in public.

Hmm. 140, 145 at the most – Hot Steve mutters under his breath. “Oh yea. Easy,” he says, still smiling wickedly.

“What do you mean, easy?” Eddie croaks.

His breath hitches when Hot Steve leans over the counter, inches away from Eddie’s face. “Probably could do twenty reps of you,” he whispers, winking.

Eddie’s brain short-circuits. He stares open-mouthed at Hot Steve, unable to move until he exits the café with the drink and a brown bag, fading away from view. Gone for the rest of the day, rest of the evening. Rest of the next morning. Only to return the next day at noon, like a fucking reverse-Cinderella.

“Why were you guys whispering?” Jonathan appears from behind, nudging him on the arm. “What did he say? Did you finally ask him out?”

“I’m about to ask him out myself if you don’t,” Argyle says lazily, earning a sharp smack from Jonathan. “Just joking, man, you know you’re my main dude,” he squeezes a squirming Jonathan on the side.

“He… “ Eddie gulps, closing his eyes, and pictures Hot Steve’s tantalizing smile. “He winked.”

Continue reading on Ao3

Read the sequel: Savour

#steddie #steddie fic #Steve x eddie #eddie x steve #Steve harrington #eddie munson #argyle stranger things #jonathan byers #jargyle #jargyle supremacy #steddie:sweet tooth #ao3 #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #ronance #stranger things #stranger things fic #modern au #coffeeshop au

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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

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stranger things au where when it's all done, instead of the general fandom usual of NDA's and cover stories, those guys at the NINA Project figure out a way to use that same technology that brought El's memories back to instead wipe the memories of anyone involved in saving the world/ anyone who saw anything abnormal and replace them with the mundane.

It's the only foolproof way to make sure that none of That gets out, to make sure that no one decides to go poking around again 10 years down the line or write a book or a song or a movie that hits a little too closely to the truth, and the government loves themselves something that seems like a foolproof plan.

But what does this mean for our heroes? They don't remember the circumstances that brought them together, only the cover memories that were inserted in their place. They don't remember why they care so deeply for one another because a summer scooping ice cream or a walk through the woods or an-- impromptu game of baseball???-- doesn't quite line up with how it feels.

It feels bigger than that. It feels--

There are explanations for Steve's scars, he remembers a big dog and a trip to the ER, he remembers getting in a car accident and the seat belt coming loose enough to get stuck across his throat instead of his chest. He remembers-- blood on his hands, blood on his clothes, the outline of a man torn half to shreds--

He remembers a bad trip with Robin, but sometimes Robin will say something and it's-- when we got drugged- took those- when we uh, y'know tried LSD that time?-- fuzzy because of the bad trip of it all.

It's easy to accept the truth as the truth, because he remembers. It's easy, for years, to let the truth be the truth, to forget entirely that there are pieces that don't make sense, that there's no reason he should be as close with Dustin Henderson as he is because wait how did we meet? over a missing cat? It's easy, to just let it be true, because the love is there and that's what matters.

The love is there for a year and two and five and ten and Steve's life isn't always easy, in fact he's gone through his fair share of therapists for the insomnia none of them can explain, the confusion that both him and Robin talk about sometimes in the dead of night but can't remember talking about in the morning.

Eddie gets medicated for some sort of psychosis for a while because he had years of these intense night terrors that he could never explain to people, screaming at the top of his lungs, but the minute he would try to tell a shaking and terrified Steve or Robin or Nancy or whoever was present what it had been about he would just sob with frustration because he couldn't remember.

Max has a condition which made her lose her eyesight rapidly as a teenager, who has chronic pain that no doctors have ever found a real cause for despite Steve dragging her to appointment after appointment with fierce protectiveness in his eyes and voice, a desperation that there has to be a reason.

It's easy to accept it as the truth, that they all gravitated towards each other because they're all just a little fucked up in unrelated ways. That they connected to one another because oh you get scared sometimes too? scared like I do? scared like no one else understands?

Lucas starts spontaneously sobbing when some Kate Bush song plays on the radio in 1992. Can't explain it except that it hurts.

Nancy goes to a shooting range and feels her hands go steady for the first time in years in '93. She's never shot a gun before.

El Hopper had a traumatic enough childhood that doctors say she likely won't ever remember all of it, that her brain is protecting her, that-- that's probably true. They're doctors. They know better than Steve, they know about everything except why Max's legs hurt so bad she can't move sometimes.

They know everything except why Eddie can't feel pinned down without having a visceral belief he's dying.

They know everything except why Jonathan swears that their old house used to be painted a different color in the living room.

There are explanations for Steve's scars. He remembers a big dog.

Sharp teeth. Snarling.

He's in his thirties when he kisses Eddie Munson for the first time, because they're fucked in the head in the same ways, because no one else has ever gotten close enough to see the scars and hear the screaming and feel the desperation and not suggested maybe you need bigger help than I can give.

He's a grown man, and it's easy to believe the truth of his past, easy to think that growing older means it's supposed to be a little fuzzy around the edges, and that's okay because this feels bright and clear and technicolor, this thing with Eddie who has run away and come back half a dozen times but always does come back.

Whether he goes to Seattle or LA, New York or Boston; whether he and Steve are in the same place at the same time for more than a couple of weeks, he always comes back, they always find their way back to each other no matter where in the world, except--

Except there.

Everyone left that town with a haste-- or was it one at a time? No, it was the Byers first to California, except-- didn't Will graduate from that school? No. Because El went to school in Chicago at the same time that Robin started college there and she helped Will apply to the Arts Institute and--

And it was Max who went to California-- no, she was from there, but she also-- did she go back?

And why does Steve remember the house he grew up in but the minute he tries to step outside the back door onto the patio in his mind, out by the-- with the blue light and--

"Have you ever been back?" he asks Eddie one day, 32 years old and living in Chicago now full-time together. Robin's just down the road, Nancy's at the Tribune, Argyle has been franchising that coffee shop of his, is opening a spot here in town near his friends who he met when--

"Back where?" Eddie trails his hands through Steve's hair, laying half on top of each other on the couch and listening to some old tape of Jonathan's.

"Where we're from."

Eddie's fingers slow to an almost still and Steve props himself up to watch the way his brow furrows in concentration.

"Why would we go back?" he asks, and Steve has this flash-- like they've had this conversation before.

Like they've talked about where we're from before, although the name of the place never crosses their lips.

"I dunno," Steve slumps into Eddie's chest. They're getting older though so maybe just, "nostalgia?"

"Are you feeling nostalgic?" A rediscovered rhythm to gentle nails across his scalp. Soothing.

"It's where we met," Steve says. It feels true, although when he thinks about it-- "remember? How we met?"

"I..." Eddie's jaw clicks. It does that sometimes, on the same side with the scar.

There are explanations for Eddie's scars too-- a drug deal gone wrong, too many guys with too may knives-- or was it broken beer bottles? They used those as weapons, yeah. Tattered clothes and tattered skin and blood on Steve's hands--

No. He wasn't there. Blood on-- it was Dustin who found him? No. Wait, it was Wayne. Wayne found him, yeah, exactly--

"We met there," Eddie's gripping Steve's hair now, by the root. "We met back there. High school. Do you want to go back?

"Why would we go--"

Steve startles himself with the words, like they just-- like they weren't a choice to say, like they said themselves, like--

"Ed."

Breathing is tight. Steve sits up straight and looks at him. Scars on his face. Eyes so big and deep they hold endless histories--

"Eddie, do you want to go visit-- visit, uh, you know?"

"Why would we--" Eddie claps a hand over his mouth and hums out a sound of frightened discontent. "What. What the fuck."

"How did we meet, again?" Steve swallows. Eddie stands up, paces to the other side of the apartment.

"High school."

"How in high school?"

"Steve, I stopped taking those meds because they didn't help, but this isn't helping me not feel fucking certifiable either--"

"Eddie, I don't remember."

"Okay, so we're getting old!"

"We're not even middle aged!"

Eddie stops where he stands, shakes his head, and Steve watches him because it's easy to watch him, easy to look at the life they've lived and accept that they found each other, fell in love, because no one else gets what it's like to be fucked in the head. To know what's true and still feel wrong in that truth.

To believe it and still get lost in it.

Eddie clenches down on the tremble of his jaw and his eyes go big and imploring.

"What's happening, Stevie?"

There are explanations for all of it, but no one has ever been able to explain Max's pain or Nancy's sharp-shooting or Robin and Steve's inability to get drunk without losing it or the color of the paint in the Byers' old living room in that fucking town that Steve can't even think the name of--

"I'm calling Robin," he says, already striding across the floor. "I want to go back."

There are explanations.

Maybe that's not good enough anymore.

#dot fic #dot post #stranger things #stranger things au #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #I sat down to work on meta and then my brain said new idea alert! and that's this ramble

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imfinereallyy · 10 months

Text

Deja Vu

for @mira-jadeamethyst and their request for a deja vu soulmate au, I had so much fun writing it. I hope you like it. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Steve Harrington wasn't sure about a lot when it came to life, but he was sure that this wasn't his only one.

It had been small things at first. The sense that he had seen the face before of a businessman his father worked with, despite them meeting for the first time. How many steps are on the stairs to his room the first time they get to the house in Hawkins. The way he knew that his favorite color was yellow but couldn't exactly explain it. It was just that it has always been yellow; like he was born with only knowing two things: how to breathe and that his eyes would always wander to things bathed in the color of sunshine.

Then it had been bigger things, like knowing his parents would never love him, even before the first strike of his father's palm. The way his body ached once and a while with an injury that he wouldn't receive until years down the line. How once he got them for real, the aches were then every day.

The biggest had come in the form of him fumbling for his keys, running from the Byers' house. The deep seeded curse of knowing that he couldn't run away, that this was important. That he had been here before, time and time again, but this was the only way it work out. So without thinking too deeply into it, as he had with most things he felt he had done once before, Steve Harrington ran back inside to face a monster of an unknown world.

It was hard to ignore after that.

Steve wasn't exactly sure what any of it meant. Why he had this constant feeling of Deja Vu. He didn't know if it was that he was doomed to live the same things over and over, as if he was stuck in a loop. That one didn't feel likely, though. He was always moving forward, making mistakes, unable to undo. Before the Upside Down, he had believed that maybe it was his past lives haunting him. That he was the same kind of person no matter the period of time.

After the Upside Down, he started to think maybe there were a bunch of different versions of himself in different universes, echoing off of each other.

Steve didn't really understand the science behind that one. He had thought about seeking Dustin out and had even buttered him up with a king-sized 3 Musketeer. When it came down to asking, though, Steve backed out. This time it hadn't been a feeling telling him he had done this before, that he had to do it right. In the end, it had boiled down to the simple ideas of he didn't want to seem silly, and he wasn't entirely sure Dustin would believe him.

Because maybe it was none of his theories; maybe it was nothing at all.

So, Steve moved throughout his life with a constant feeling of exasperated "this again?", in his gut.

Still, Steve had learned a few things along the way.

The first was that in every life, his parents would remain the same. There was no version of him good enough. Their love was conditional, temporary if it existed at all. In this lifetime, it did not. Some days this comforted Steve, knowing he wasn't the source of the problem. On other days, he thought desperately to himself that maybe this time, he could get it right.

He would not.

The second was that in every life, Steve Harrington will love Nancy Wheeler, and in every universe, she will love him differently than he wants. Steve figures this out in Tina's bathroom when Nancy drunkenly slurs "bullshit" to him over and over. With each punishing word, Steve feels an ache in his chest that feels like burned skin once again over an open flame: The hurt was already there, healed over, only to be opened again. Most days, Steve is bitter about this one. It seemed to Steve that every version of him was destined to be lonely and unwanted for a long time. On the odd day, though, Steve was strangely happy about this occurrence. For Steve had learned to love Nancy differently, too. That perhaps he never even loved her in the way that he needed. Not in the bare, all-encompassing way he craved. During their relationship, they both wore masks, never really themselves around the other. Steve wasn't sure if Nancy could have ever really loved the real him.

Nancy and Steve were not bound together by love, care, or kindness. Instead, they were strung together with broken strings dipped in steel-coated camaraderie.

The third thing Steve learned along the way was perhaps his favorite of all. In every life, Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are best friends.

Steve had a feeling when he met Robin for the first time, buried under all of the irritation he had for the stupid uniform, that she was something special. He felt it there with his feet planted on the cold tile, that Robin and him had done this before. They were supposed to be in this room together.

Robin, unfortunately had not felt this way at first. Steve had thought maybe, for once, he had gotten it wrong.

But then there was Russian code, secret underground bases (both of which Steve had not had the feeling of doing before), and torture (this, unfortunately, felt like a repeated event), and suddenly they are both on the tile floor of a movie theater bathroom high off their asses, and Steve knew.

Steve knew that in every lifetime, Steve Harrington lives, breathes, and dies for Robin Buckley. And he knows that Robin would do the same for him.

Steve, for the first time, wasn't gutted by his deja vu. He wasn't licking the wounds of rejection. Instead, he felt a little bit like his favorite color, bright and warm. Burning from the inside with the kind of happiness only connected to friendship.

Steve thought maybe now he would be able to tell someone why his favorite color was yellow just as easily as he could explain why Robin Buckley was his favorite person.

Despite all the learning he'd done, all the recollections he had, Steve never told anyone. It wasn't like it was important. It wasn't like he had the power to change things or know when or where things would happen. Most of all, Steve was pretty certain there was no one he was meant to be with. That his cursed feelings of "this again?" were his warning enough that he would never truly belong to anyone. The closest thing he would get to that all-encompassing sort of love would be from Robin, from the party.

Steve had convinced himself that he was okay with this because it was simply meant to be. So, he never said a word.

Steve learned the hard way the truth cannot long stay hidden, that eventually, he would have to face what it all meant and why.

It started like this:

With Steve's back being crushed against the boathouse wall and a broken bottle pressed against his neck. A wild Eddie Munson in his face, everyone around them yelling, screaming at one another. Each of them was so distracted with calming Eddie down, and getting Steve to back off they didn't notice Eddie lean in carefully.

With a harsh whisper that Steve was surprised he could hear over the roaring of his ears, Eddie snarled, "I would think before you speak next, Harrington."

Instantaneously Steve felt it. That drop in his stomach, the head rush, the ringing in his ears. Steve felt it stronger than ever before, like a siren in the sea; something called him to this moment, to this man before him. Steve had felt Eddie's swipe of his thumb across his chest before. Had smelt this smoke and sweat over and over again, despite never being this close. Steve knew, with every fiber of his being, Eddie had asked him this many times before.

And all Steve could think, stripped bare of any other feeling except the all-encompassing need behind the words of his only thought, "You again."

***

this was so fun to write and more of a snippet than anything. Like most things, let me know if I should write more to it. This feels like more of an ao3 potential piece.

anyway, keep a look out for more of the request game responses; they are on a posting schedule right now :)

#steddie #stranger things #platonic stobin #soulmate au #there was so much build up to this but aaaaahhhh it was so fun to write #steve harrington #my writing #eddie munson #robin buckley #ficlet #steve x eddie #stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #steve and robin are soulmates too #but so are eddie and steve #just in very different ways #soulmates #twin flames

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jasontoddsmommyissues · 10 months

Text

Unsmooth Operator

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Reader

Summary: It’s summer in Hawkins and Eddie finds himself caught up on the cute girl working at the record store in the mall

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, brief mentions of sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), swearing, potentially lethal levels of adorableness

A/N: First of all, sorry it’s been so long since I posted my last fic. My poor little ADHD self is a slow writer, I’m afraid. But anyway, I kind of wrote this as a sort of prequel to my Henderson!Reader fic, but there’s no direct mention of Reader being related to anyone, so you can either read it as that or not. Also, special thanks to Mr. Joseph Quinn for confirming that Eddie Munson has no game.

My Master List | Ao3

It’s June in Hawkins and the summer heat has already grown practically unbearable. The shitty window A/C unit Eddie’s been using has finally crapped out, and in the heat of the day the trailer is approximately the temperature of the sun. Mercifully, he’s found a sweet, air conditioned refuge in the newly built Starcourt mall, a temple to 20th century decadence and consumerism that also happens to be a very pleasant temperature inside.

Jeff and Gareth are tagging along today, which is fun except for the quick pit stop they had to make at the homegoods store so Gareth could pick up some new linens for his mom. They’ve finished that now, though, and Eddie’s already got their next destination in mind.

“I’m gonna do it”, Gareth insists as they go, “I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

“Your mom would kill you”, Jeff replies.”remember when she caught you smoking? I thought she wasn’t going to let us see you ever again after that.”

“It’s different now”, Gareth tells him, “I’m 16. I’m gonna be a junior. It’s time I make my own choices, you know?”

“Good luck with that”, Jeff laughs.

“Let’s hit the record store next”, Eddie cuts in, “I want to pick up the new Bob Dylan album for Wayne.”

“More like you wanna see the cute girl working the register”, Jeff teases.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Eddie retorts, desperately hoping his cheeks aren’t actually turning as red as he thinks they are.

In truth, he does have an ulterior motive for wanting to go to the record store, and it is you. You’ve been going to Hawkins High for the past three years, but admittedly Eddie had never really been more than vaguely aware of your existence until this past semester, when you two had PE together. He had this routine he’d do where he would imitate the gym teacher when the man wasn’t looking, and it never failed to elicit a giggle from you. One day Eddie noticed how cute you looked when you laughed and well, he’s been a little bit stuck on you ever since.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Gareth comments, as if it’s just that easy.

Sweet, naive Gareth. Maybe for guys like Steve Harrington it’s that easy, but Eddie isn’t Steve Harrington. Gareth wasn’t there for Eddie’s early high school days. He wasn’t there during Eddie’s sophomore year when two hot juniors decided to prank him by convincing him their cheerleader friend was “super into him” or his junior year when he invited that girl from drama club to join Hellfire and she laughed out loud at him. Most girls don’t even want to be seen with Eddie “the Freak” Munson, let alone date him.

“Jeff’s talking out of his ass”, Eddie lies, “come on, let’s go.”

You are, of course, there at the counter when they walk in, and oh God, is that an Iron Maiden shirt you’re wearing? Fuck, as if he couldn’t be more into you.

“Um, Eddie, you good dude?” Gareth asks him and he realizes he’s stopped right there in the entrance of the store, just staring at you. He quickly turns away and walks the rest of the way into the store, thankful that you’re currently checking out a customer and probably didn’t notice him ogling you like a total weirdo.

Admittedly, this may not have been a good idea, at least if he wants to convince Jeff and Gareth he’s not into you. He quickly grabs a Bob Dylan tape and starts making for the door, desperate to just get out of there and spare himself anymore humiliation.

“Um, you gonna pay for that?” Jeff asks and fuck. He’s shoplifted before but he’s not interested in getting barred from the record store, so he’s not gonna risk it today.

“Right”, he mutters and then he forces himself to go up to the counter.

He feels like his heart is going to explode in his chest when he walks up and you flash him that brilliant smile of yours.

“Hi, Eddie”, you greet and his eyes grow wide because you know his name. Well, obviously you did, you had a class together, but it just sounds so good coming from your mouth that he momentarily ceases to function.

“Did you need help with something?” you ask after a moment.

“What?” Eddie asks, “oh no. Just um, just this.”

He sets the tape on the counter and you grab it to ring it up.

“Dylan”, you comment as you do, “not your usual fare.”

“It’s for my uncle”, Eddie explains, “he’s a big fan.”

“Cool”, you say, “I like your vest by the way. Dio. Nice.”

Well, that’s it. It’s over. Eddie’s done for.

“That’ll be $6.30”, you say.

“Oh, right money”, Eddie sputters and fishes a ten out of his pocket. He knows Jeff and Gareth are standing nearby, watching this all play out and probably laughing with each other about it. He’s definitely never living this down.

“You want a bag”, you ask as you finish gathering his change.

“Oh, I um, I guess”, he replies, not actually processing the question. You hand him his change, then place the tape in a bag and slide it over to him. He goes to grab it, and because he’s not at all paying attention to anything but you, inadvertently sends the display of Beach Boy tapes sitting on the counter tumbling to the floor.

“Oh shit”, he hisses, “oh fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay”, you reply, coming around the counter, “I keep telling Doug he shouldn’t put that stuff so close to the register.”

You bend down to start picking up the tapes and years worth of Wayne’s lectures on behaving like a gentleman come flooding back to Eddie, so he quickly follows suit.

“Let me help you”, he says.

“Thanks”, you say and you’re smiling again and Eddie kind of wants to die.

With the two of you, it doesn’t take long to get everything cleaned up and back in order.

“I’m really sorry”, Eddie says again as you make your way back behind the counter, and then before he can stop himself, he blurts, “maybe I could make it up to you somehow?”

“What?” you ask, clearly unsure of what he means.

“I mean like, maybe I could buy you a-a coffee or something sometime”, he stammers.

You peer at him for a moment, and he braces for the inevitable rejection he’s about to endure.

“I like ice cream”, you say, “if you meet me here at 3 tomorrow, you can buy me some ice cream and we’ll call it even.”

Maybe Eddie’s already dead and this is heaven. That or he’s being punked somehow. Either way, he stands there like an idiot for a second, trying to process that you just suggested the two of you meet for ice cream.

“Um okay”, he says.

“Cool”, you grin, “see you then.”

“Right”, he says, “see you then.”

And then he’s swiping his bag from the counter and stiffly making his way back to Jeff and Gareth, his body still trapped in a state of shock.

“So”, Jeff prompts, “what was all that?”

“I um, I think I’m meeting her for ice cream tomorrow”, Eddie informs them.

The two younger boys exchange glances, mouths stretching into a matching pair of shit eating grins.

“Talking out of my ass, huh?” Jeff teases.

“Shut up”, Eddie snaps, “I’m just being polite okay? It’s not like a date or anything.”

“Sure it isn’t”, Gareth replies smugly.

“Whatever”, Eddie huffs and the others know not to continue the conversation, even if they spend the rest of the afternoon exchanging amused glances at each other.

Eddie waits until he’s back at the trailer to let everything sink in. When it does, he feels a vague sense of panic washing over him.

Embarrassing as it is, Eddie’s never had a real, serious girlfriend before. Hell, aside from a brief flirtation with Tammy Thompson that ended in a very awkward hand job in the school parking lot, he’s never really had any experience with girls (or boys for that matter) at all. And Tammy was the one that initiated that. He wasn’t even really into her, he was just desperate for some sort of female attention.

You, though, he is into you. Very, very much into you. And he has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do or say. He finally, finally has a chance to go out with his dream girl, and he’s almost certainly going to say something wrong and scare you off like pretty much everyone he’s ever been into.

He wonders what the weather in Wisconsin is like this time of year, because he’s halfway to hopping in his van and heading there now, never to be seen or heard from in Hawkins, Indiana again.

Then again, maybe he’s over thinking it. It’s not like the word “date” ever came up in your conversation. Maybe this really is just him paying you back for his clumsiness, and afterwards you won’t even spare him a second thought. In the end, he figures that whatever the case, he’s not just going to leave you high and dry, so he has no choice but to go.

Eddie shows up outside the record store at 2:45 the next day. He stands there awkwardly, fiddling with his rings and secretly hoping that you don’t show up and he doesn’t have to deal with all of this.

No such luck though, you appear exactly at 3, looking as cute as ever in your jean skirt.

“Hey”, you greet and Eddie momentarily forgets how to speak.

“Hey”, he repeats, unable to formulate a coherent enough thought to do anything but copy your greeting.

“You ready to go?” you ask and he nods.

The record store is a fair bit away from Scoops Ahoy, and for probably the first time in his life, Eddie finds himself unsure of what exactly to say. Thankfully, you take the lead.

“So, have you heard Megadeth’s album?” you ask, “I got it the first day it came out and I love it.”

“Me too”, Eddie says, and he can feel himself being knocked out of his stupor then, “you know, my friends and I have a metal band.”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah”, he tells you, “we perform Wednesdays at the Hideout, if you ever want to come see us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind”, you smile and Eddie thinks his heart momentarily stops.

Walking into Scoops Ahoy with you by his side is an almost unreal experience. You and him go up to the counter and Steve Harrington is there in his little sailor suit that Eddie almost feels sorry that he’s forced to wear.

“Hey Steve”, you greet.

“Hey Y/N”, Steve replies, and then he notices that Eddie’s with you and he gets this super confused look on his face.

“So, uh, get whatever you want I guess”, Eddie says.

Once you two have ordered and gotten your ice cream, you eat it while idly wandering around the mall, just chatting about anything and everything. Eddie, as always, is frequently cracking jokes, and God is it mesmerizing to see the way you laugh in response.

It’s quite the disappointment when you’re finishing your ice cream and you’re bidding him farewell.

He knows he has to at least try to see you again so he tests the waters with a quick “that was fun, we should do it again sometime.”

“I’d like that”, you smile.

“Awesome”, he replies.

“Here”, you say, rooting around in your purse, “give me your hand.”

He obliges, and you produce a pen, which you use to scribble something onto his outstretched hand.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“My number”, you reply, “call me tonight or tomorrow?”

“Sure”, he tells you.

“Great”, you say, “I’ll see you, Eddie.”

“See you”, he says, hoping he doesn’t sound as absolutely lovesick to you as he does to himself.

You flash him one final smile before departing, and he just stands there awkwardly for a second, watching as you go. Once you’ve disappeared from sight and he’s snapped out of his trance, he peers down at the numbers you’d scrawled onto his hand. He has to remind himself that it’d be weird to get them tattooed onto himself permanently. He can’t believe that it worked. You went on a date with him, in public, and didn’t care if you were seen together. You laughed at his jokes. You gave him his number and asked to see him again. You liked him.

The trailer is as unbearably hot as ever when he returns, but for once, he doesn’t care. He’s too excited to call you later and hopefully set up another date.

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creelteeth · 2 years

Text

There’s just not enough Perv!Steve out there. || pt.2

• 18+ content !! minors fuck off

|| i’ve gotten some requests for more perv!steve. poor guy is the love of my life so i am back with more.

part 1

cw: slightly darker themes!! window watching/voyeurism, foot fetish if you squint , degradation, oral (f receiving) , light corruption kink, marking/bruising (not impact play, steve bruises reader on accident during a game.), idk how to tag things pls tell me if i missed something.

reader is a bit more clueless/innocent this go around. still not sure how to categorize this but here we go!!

perv!steve who keeps the ac in his car on the lowest setting every day of summer cause he likes to see you squirm and shudder. your nipples manage to peak their way through every top you own. it’s a sight that makes his mouth water. if only you knew how much he loves your pretty tits.

how he wishes he could reach over and flick the stiff little buds.

perv!steve who purposely drives his car through deep mud puddles so he can call you and beg you to help him clean it.

that is the third time this month? it doesn’t even rain that much in hawkins.

he goes on and on about how his dad will have a cow and a half if he sees the car in this condition.

perv!steve who ends up needing to excuse himself to the garage. slumping over against the drink fridge, a hand stuffed down the front of his sudsy little basketball shorts. quick desperate squeezes of his heavy cum filled balls to try and do away with the throbbing mess that is his cock.

jesus fucking christ—..

he didn’t expect you to take your shirt off in the middle of washing his car. certainly didn’t expect you to be wearing that tiny triangle bikini top.

it was hardly covering anything. you’re such a fucking-.. a fucking whore aren’t you?

perv!steve who realized he can see directly into your bedroom window if he parks his car in front of the neighbors yard.

why don’t you ever close your curtains all the way? you’re such a fucking performer for him. you like being watched.

he loves it. it quickly becomes a nightly routine. drop you off at home. drive off once you get inside the door. make a u-turn at the stop sign. park behind the big willow tree in the neighbors yard. he’d watch you for hours if he could but he’s not that brave yet. and more importantly he’s a good boy, remember?

if you were to catch him and ask what he’d been doing he’d simply say he was making sure you got in safely. your parents out of town he just wants to be extra cautious. it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that if he parks the car just right he has a perfect view of your bed. he loves watching you run inside and strip the clothes off from the day.

you never wear pajamas, do you? dirty little thing.

the most you tend to settle for is an old t shirt. though he realized very quickly that you are not a fan a pants, but you are a fan of those adorable little panties with the lace trim and little bows right above your puffy mound. holy shit— it drove him insane. he’d give anything to be able to join you in your bedroom. to kiss your pretty ankles. to feel the heat that emanates off your cunt from beneath the cotton. if you just gave him the opportunity he’d take such good care of you. teach you everything you need to know to be a good little pet for him.

perv!steve who invites you and the rest of the gang over to swim in his parents pool. suggesting a game of chicken, immediately placing dibs on you just so he can get a chance to feel your body. his curious hands wandering only slightly to different areas on your pillow soft thighs. if you weren’t so caught up in trying to push robin off eddie’s shoulders you might’ve noticed the hand that was dancing dangerously close to the curve of your ass. neither you nor him seemed to realize how tightly he’d been squeezing you since the game started. it wasn’t on purpose, truth is he’s just trying not to focus on the fact that your sex is rubbing up against the back of his neck.

if he jostles you hard enough it might make some part of your suit slip. but he won’t, he can’t embarrass you like that.

he cares far too much about your modesty, as we’ve previously established. he’s a good boy.

perv!steve who can’t fucking believe he was holding you so tightly during the game, yesterday. completely taken aback by the sight of little bruises peppering your velvety smooth skin. or perhaps he was just taken aback by the sight of you hiking your skirt to show off your lower half.

he can see the adorable bow sitting just above your perfect little mound. it’s pink today...

each mark matched perfectly to the shape of one of steve’s fingertips.

fucking hell—..

the pitiful little pout you give him over the mess of bruises made him melt.

he just wants to ruin you. completely fucking ruin you.

seeing remnants of himself scattered about your limbs has him reeling. he reaches out cautiously, searching your big sad eyes for any sign of discomfort. his bottom lip poking out to mimic the pout you’d given him.

your voice whiny, you seemed utterly inconvenienced by his roughness.

“stevie.” you huff.

“what am i gonna do? i can’t wear that dress y’ bought me now.”

oh, you poor thing.

he touched over the tender skin, voice laced with artificial concern. “aw i’m sorry, pumpkin. didn’t mean to get so rough with you..”

words trailing off for just a moment, thumb finding the darkest of the bruises pressing into it slightly. you wince, poking your lip out even farther. you’re gonna end up tripping over that thing at this rate.

“hey hey, shh.. let me help you, how about that? i can make you feel better if you let me.” he carries on like before, crouching down to further examine the markings.

the confused tilt of your head makes him smile. his expression is gentle, though his intentions with you are nothing shy of absolutely filthy.you didn’t need to know that yet. there was something about the position you two were in that made your stomach flutter. holding the fabric of your skirt up for your best friend steve to see from your waist down felt.. funny. you trusted him though, wholeheartedly.

“help me how?” you question, maybe steve knows some neat trick to make bruises go away.

the genuine confusion behind your expression makes him smile. hands still caressing over the deep purple markings.

“ ill give each of em a kiss, how about that?” your mouth opened to speak, though no answer fell from your tongue.

steve? your best friend steve offering to kiss you better?

something felt strange about that, you'd never heard of friends kissing each other but, steve never did you any wrong. a heat washes over you, suddenly feeling shy but you nod.

perv!steve who does not need anymore encouragement beyond that simple nod. hands moving up to grab your hips--

“sit down for me, baby. gonna fix it.” he instructs you back a few inches, gently pushing you to sit down on the couch behind you.

if you knew any better you’d be able to recognize the hunger in his eyes. settling himself between your legs, he looks over you taking in the vision before him. you sitting there, legs spread open for him. the white fabric thin enough to show him the outline of your little clit. tracing around the sensitive button with his eyes, fixed on it as if it were a target.

soon.

he’s gotta warm you up a bit first. starting at the lowest marks to be found on your legs, thumbprints on the inside of each ankle. his pillowy soft lips pressing a damp kiss to each bruise. hands grabbing your little feet one at a time, massaging them for just a moment. images of your socked feet up against his aching bulge flashing through his mind.

later.

he carried his way up, starting just above your knee, following around to the outside of your thighs. every mark getting a soft wet kiss. steve was right, this was helping, but it didn't make up for all the pairs of pants you're gonna have to wear for the next week.

with only three kisses left, steve noticed a change in you. you'd started to stir a bit, the pace of your breath changing as he started towards the softer skin that was your inner thighs.

that's my girl.

he stopped to speak, staying close enough for your cunt to feel the heat of his breath with every word.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he feigned cluelessness, though he could see the damp spot forming on the soft cotton that covered you.

the closeness of it all making you stir. if you shifted any more his nose would've bumped against your throbbing clit.

“just feels funny..” you shrug, desperately wanting to close your legs but steve’s broad shoulders held them open.

you knew about sex, you weren't that much of a prude. though you weren’t very well versed in sex either. you knew the logistics of how it happens. you'd been touched before but never like this. truth be told, the most you'd ever gotten was dry humped by youth pastor marcus in the church bathroom. this didn't feel like that though, friends don't do these kinds of things.

its silly to want your best friend to touch you like this, right?

steve felt himself growing harder by the second. cock beginning to leak into his jeans.

big hands coming up to massage over your thighs, steve offering you a smile. “ i know it does but its okay, princess. just taking care of you like I always do. you gonna let me finish taking care of you?”

looking at you expectantly, his hands slowly moving closer to your dampening cunt. though you hadn't verbally answered yet, your body seemed to give him the go ahead. legs parting even more, hips sinking down to push your sex closer to his face.

jesus fucking christ..

he moved with caution at first, lips covering the few stray marks that were left. each one pulling a whimper from you. he moved his way to where you needed him most. nose bumping up against the sticky wet mess. still covered by your underwear, he couldn't help but bury his face against you. the tip of his nose pressing right up against your sensitive little clit causing you to whine out. he inhaled deeply,

fuck— he just can't get enough of you.

the smell was intoxicating. the dampness seeping through, smearing across his lips. he’d dreamed of how you’d taste, but the real thing was so much fucking better. he peered up at you from time to time, watching your jaw fall open, big googly eyes staring down at him.

you're so very easy, aren't you?

perv!steve who began to lapping at the white cloth, tongue licking long flat stripes against you. his actions were gentle, but raunchy. nose and mouth buried between your pudgy lips, the fabric adding an odd sensation to the mix. it pulled the most filthy sounds from you. unsure of where to put your hands, you found yourself gripping at the couch cushions, nails digging into the spongey seat.

"s-..teve" you choked on your words.the way you were already unraveling filled him with amusement.

"need you." you managed to get the rest of your sentence out.

need him. you need steve.

as much as he'd like to make things go his way, this was about you. he needed to make sure you're aware of just how much he'd like to offer you. he sat back for a second, pushing his hair out of his face.

"you're gonna forget all about the bruises, mmkay? i promise." he nodded, fingers looping in your underwear pulling them off your body.

he stuffed the soaking wet pair into his back pocket, not caring if you saw or not. a new pair for the collection. he took a minute to stare, reaching between his legs to palm at his aching cock. balls begging to break free from the tight denim. this was not about him though, he'd deal with it later.

might even let you watch. if you behave..

you whined desperately at his words, legs parting enough to pull your sticky wet folds apart. slick coating every bit of you.

"you're gonna be the fucking death of me." he groaned, sitting forward, hands grabbing at the plush of your hips.

you felt yourself clench, clit throbbing desperately for attention. he didn't let you go untouched for long. he dove directly in, tongue attaching itself to your clit, moving in slow circles. the direct contact making your hips buck, clit grinding down against his tongue. your eagerness pulling a groan from him, his tongue vibrating against you. your head fell back against the couch, mouth hung open, the most beautiful sounds spilling out of you. the hands that held the couch found their way to his hair. holding him in place so that you could rut helplessly against his mouth.

steve let you use him to your liking, adoring your lusftulness. he moved around a bit, tongue moving down to fuck your greedy hole, in and out, working against your slippery walls. his nose made for the most perfect toy to get yourself off with. much better than the pillow you'd usually resort to at night. it didn't take you long to reach your end. stomach starting to churn, your thighs clamping around his head. one of his arms hooked around your hips, holding you still so that he could continue to fuck your tight hole. the other trailing up your body to grab a handful of your tit, pinching your nipple between his fingers. the added attention making your walls clamp down around his tongue.

he didn't bother encouraging you with words, not wanting to take his mouth off you. within seconds you were thrashing. your marked up thighs trembling helplessly. a string of noises and messy words falling from your lips as you humped against his face, gushing all over his tongue. he stayed like that until you were settled again, finishing you off with a kiss to your swollen clit. the sudden contact making you whine weakly.

steve let you wind down on your own for a moment before climbing up onto the couch to sit with you. lifting his arm up to let you splay yourself over him like a tired little puppy. he enjoyed seeing you like this. all glossy eyed and fucked out after just one orgasm.

god-.. he can't wait to ruin every bit of you.

he held you close, trying not to pay much attention to the painful mess between his own legs.

" feeling better, princess?” he asked quietly, a smile painting over his lips at your lazy nod.

"you were so good for me. proud of you." he cooed, mind combing through the list of different things he was gonna teach you.

#s.h.#perv!steve harrington #stranger things smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #ahh this is long #part 3 maybe?#perv!steve #casey writes

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luveline · 10 months

Note

More zombie au! Steve!!! Please! It’s literally so good I love how you write Steve all protective <3

thank you ♡ steve zombie au —steve gets sick. you meet a dark-haired stranger while looking for meds. fem!reader 2k

You compare your arm to the bottle in your hand. You've written a list of generic and brand name antibiotics in biro on your forearm, but they're smudging from nervous sweat. You're getting desperate.

Nothing seems to match. You're shaking with aching arms and legs, fucking terrified as you sift through a floor of orange and white pill bottles that nothing is going to match your list, and worse, the pharmacy grows darker by the hour. You don't have a torch.

Things are getting pretty bad at camp. There's not enough food to go around, no batteries, and now Steve's…

A bottle slips out of your hand and knocks into another. You cringe and pick up the next. You've been searching for hours without sitting down, as hiding underneath the bottles is a carpeting of grainy glass from the smashed shelves. Three of your fingertips have cut and scabbed since you got here.

"Fuck," you whisper, glaring at another wrong medication. "Fuck, fuck."

Amoxicillin, ciprofloxacin, flucloxacillin. Anything to stop Steve's infection from getting into his blood. It's a gross wound, oozy and inflamed, and when you'd left him with Robin dutiful at his side his skin had glowed with heat like glass held in the centre of a furnace. Even with his eyes closed, he'd known what you were about to do.

"Don't fucking leave," he'd grit out, fingers twitching up for your hand.

You'd leaned forward and kissed his damp forehead. "I have to go. I love you. I'll be right back."

That was ten hours ago at least. You have no idea what condition Steve might be in, so sure you'd find the pills and be back in arm's reach by noon. How sick can he get before it's too much?

"Shit," you whisper, your fingers tingling.

"What are you looking for?"

You fall backward with a sharp gasp, pill bottles biting into your thighs. Your face swings around but the source of the voice is unclear, empty shelves and aisles either side of you.

"Chill out–"

"Where the fuck are you?" you demand, scrambling onto your feet with the use of one sacrificed palm. Glass like needles serrates your skin. "Fuck! Come out, loser!"

"Hey, no need to be mean. I'm up in the ceiling."

You look up. Peeking out from a displaced ceiling tile is a pale face silhouetted by a matt of dark hair.

"You fucking little freak," you say, though you feel bad immediately. He's smiling and he isn't pointing any weapons at you, which is more than most strangers allow on the road. "Why are you up there?"

"I wanted to see if you had a gun, stupid."

"You're stupid, stupid. What if it was in my bag?"

"Point it at me, then!"

You stare at him in silence.

"That's what I thought," he says, framing a face in two hands like a baby angel on a gift card. "Can I come down or are you gonna keep bitchin'?"

"Don't fucking come down here."

"Or what?" he asks.

"I'll get my gun out."

"Mm, okay," he mocks. "I'll come help you find whatever it is that has your panties in a twist."

"I swear to god–"

"Listen. I'm a good guy, I swear."

"That's what bad guys say."

The stranger laughs a weird giggly laugh and climbs backwards. The ceiling tiles stress visibly under his weight but make no noise as he disappears from view. He swears a couple of times on the way down, unseen, before the stockroom door swings open and he appears in his intimidating glory in the doorway.

"If you kill me," you say, eyeing his spiked wristbands and the machete strapped to his waist with horrified apprehension, "my boyfriend will avenge me. Like, hunt you to the ends of the earth and slice you into little tiny pieces of vengeance."

"That sounds like my kind of party, but your boyfriend has nothing to worry about. I got a girl."

"Don't say rock and roll."

"How the fuck would you guess that?" he asks, hand flying to the back of his neck for a bashful scratch.

"My life feels like a shitty gimmicky horror movie, and you look the part." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I need antibiotics."

"You and everybody else in the world. This for your vengeful boyfriend?"

You don't need him knowing who they're for. He could be an evil guy, and the threat of Steve waiting for you might be your trump card. "No. My vengeful boyfriend left to look for cans in the shelter."

"He'll be back soon, then."

You take a step back. "I'll gouge your eyes out if you try anything, I'm serious. I don't care how big your knife is–"

"I'm Eddie." Eddie smiles at you, shoving his hands into cargo pockets. Despite his weird questions and his choice of apparel, he looks less intimidating in the lingering light of the setting sun as it seeps between window shutters. "I don't want to hurt you." He frowns. "Any kind of hurt."

"Can I have the machete?"

"Nope. I can go put it down somewhere, though, if that's less scary."

You shake your head, and with a great big sigh, lean down to sift through bottles. If he's going to hurt you, he might as well get on with it. The longer you spend talking to him, the sicker your Steve becomes.

"You need antibiotics bad?" Eddie asks, his voice softening.

"My best friend is sick." You toss a bottle, pick up another. "Infection probably getting into his blood. If I don't find something tonight, he's gonna die."

"Well, we can't have that," Eddie says, crouching down to help.

You sweep through bottle after bottle of things you wish you needed. Painkillers, sleeping pills, laxatives. Good shit, and nothing you need.

"You know…" Eddie sighs. "I know you could lie to me, but is it just you, boyfriend and the dying bestie, or?"

You're not sure what the right answer is. Better for him to think you have an army waiting if you get lost, or better to hide them? He could belong to a cult of cannibals. Only… his clothes are squeaky clean. His curls shine with a gloss that comes solely with conditioner, which means he has the time and security to really wash things.

But murders can wash their clothes, right?

"There's a couple of us," you say.

"You're not from that place west, are you?"

You put a pill bottle down slowly. "West?"

"Yeah, there were people there, hundreds of 'em. We got a few stragglers, survivors from the fucking massacre that happened a few weeks ago. One girl said there must've been thirty, forty kids there, it's fucking awful."

You swallow a lump. "Awful," you agree.

"Hopper says we can track down the people who did it if we just follow the blood trail," Eddie says, slipping into a theatrical bravado that won't stick. "I don't know… someone needs to stop them."

You choke, "Hopper? Chief Hopper?"

"Wait, you're from Hawkins?" Eddie asks.

You give each other boggled looks, a thrumming hope building in your chest like a flickering flame in the dead of winter.

"I think you better come back with me," Eddie says.

"I need antibiotics," you say, wanting to explain it to him and now knowing how. Or even if you should. Awesome, Hopper's alive, but that doesn't mean Eddie's group are good people, or that they can help you. There's nothing anyone in the world can do for you right now if they don't have a handful of Augmentin.

"You're from The College."

"I don't have time for this," you say, half apology and half frustration. "Yeah, we were from The College, and now it's gone, and my boyfriend's gonna die if you don't help me find the right pills." You wince and snatch up another stupid bottle.

"I can get you antibiotics," Eddie says, "but you're gonna have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"No."

—

Steve wakes up two days later in an unfamiliar building.

His eyes are made of sand, he can hardly breathe it's that cold, each breath as sharp as a needle as he sucks it in, but there's a roof over his head, a blanket over his chest, and your voice, your laugh rings like a song in the air.

"He didn't do that, you're lying," you say with a laugh, pulling Steve's hand to your chest.

"He did." Steve stiffens at the voice. Deeper, rougher than yours. "I swear on my life, he jumped right into Lover's Lake and swam backstroke to prove he could beat Louisa Park's best."

"Did he beat her time?"

"No, but he had a condom stuck to his ankle when he got out. Wasn't worth it."

"Steve," you say. Steve thinks you've noticed he's waking up, but you hug his hand with a sympathetic sigh. "That's so embarrassing. You better wake up soon, I have making fun of you to do."

"I think I'll stay asleep," he says hoarsely.

You gasp and choke his fingers between yours. "Steve?" You climb up onto the bed, your weight dipping the mattress under his back. Your hand comes careful and warm against his chilled cheek. "You're awake. You're awake?"

He strains to unglue his top lashes from his bottom lashes. You beam at him, the little scars around your mouth from a cruel hand shining in the white morning light.

"What time is it?" he asks.

"It's, like, seven in the morning."

"I've been asleep that long?"

"You've been unconscious for nearly two days," you correct.

Steve can't remember anything. He has the barest memory of your lips on his forehead. Robin splashing cold water on him and calling him an asshole, and then, much quieter, her best friend.

"Where's Robin?" he asks.

"She's being Robin somewhere, you know, she loves being helpful. The kids need help getting settled."

"And you're being lazy," Steve pokes.

He lifts his chin so your kiss lands exactly where he wants it, the stubbly space below his jaw. You wrap your arms around him and hug him severely, squeezing his tender ribs.

"I wasn't lazy, I had to go save you by myself."

"Save everybody," the familiar but impossible voice adds. Steve doesn't want to believe it. He refuses to. "Like, an entire generation."

"I didn't do anything," you say, kissing Steve again, a short path to his chapped lips. "Honey," —your voice lowers, your confession for Steve's ears alone— "I'm so happy you're okay. I was really, really scared."

Steve feels the weight of your fear like a dumbell on his chest, but he's uber confused. Propping his chin over your shoulder and hugging you back, the evil wound on his arm that caused this whole mess throbbing like fire under his bandage, Steve sets his eyes on the boy sitting on the chair next to yours.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie says warmly, eyes dripping with a put upon affection. "Miss me?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Steve asks.

"Saving the day, obviously."

"I can't believe I found one of your friends," you say, sitting up a little to smile at him. You really are gorgeous in his eyes, better than any movie star. Your beatific little grin stirs something, but Eddie's snort stomps it dead.

"We're not friends," Steve says.

You stroke Steve's face with the back of your hand. "Don't be like that. He's really nice…" Your smile melds itself to a concerned frown. "I thought you were kicking it, Stevie. How's your arm feeling? Does it hurt a lot?"

"It's fine," he says dismissively, wrapping his stronger arm around your waist. He's not jealous or anything, it's just cold in here, honest. "Munson, where the fuck did you come from?"

"Right here, Stevie."

"We're not far from the camp," you explain, stroking his face once again. "Or, we weren't when it was there. We're merging with this one to make a mega camp."

"Why would we do that? We don't know that we can trust these people."

"No, but we can trust Hopper." You smile. Steve knows things are gonna be okay, as long as you can smile like that. He leans his cheek into your hand, loved and relieved and–

"Hopper?" Steve asks.

"Jesus, Harrington," Eddie says, rolling his shoulders. "Keep up. If you can't comprehend the easy stuff, you're not gonna believe what we haven't told you."

"What haven't you told me?" Steve asks.

You push his shoulders down into the pillows. "I think you better lay down first."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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littlest-dark-age · 2 years

Note

perv!steve headcannons? pls pls pls

Could you love me instead of all the boyfriends you get?

Headcannons for perv!stevie. mdni

Listen to while reading : wet dream by wet leg

Warnings : manipulation, slight babying, slight controlling steve, needy steve, Stevie's love sick, possessive and protective steve, stalking, face sitting, spitting, recorded sex, voyeurism, slight cnc, slight somno, worshipping, creampie's, slight exhibitionism. If I missed anything please let me know

Constantly trying to convince you that he knows what's best for you. That you should trust him with everything, so you won't worry your pretty little head over anything that's too tough for his baby.

Will lay out your clothes for the day before he goes to work, as well as having things set out for you around the house. Your plate waiting at your seat on the table, a reminder to make sure you properly eat during the day. A new list on the fridge everyday with little things he wants you to do. Read a chapter in the new book he got you, make sure you pick out the two of you will be eating for dinner, etc.

He doesn't like it when you bathe and he's not there. Steve has little rituals for once you're out of the tub or shower. Drying you off, rubbing your lotion and body butter in for you, taking care of your hair if needed, making sure you don't leave your dirty clothes in the bathroom floor and more

Steve always asks if he got your order or something similar right, big brown eyes peering into your own with a desperate need of approval and praise. A wide smile spreads across his face when you tell him that he got it right, something in his core warming at the fact that he remembered. It sends a pleasant shiver down his spine when you tell him he did a good job.

Gives you his card whenever you wanna go shopping or even just to the store, he likes having you dependent on him. Knowing that you're relying on him, the only condition being that you show him whatever you got. If it's clothes, he'll ask you to do a twirl in the pretty fabrics

Doesn't steal your clothes like Eddie does, although he does see the appeal. Steve would rather take things like stuffed animals or even a pillow, sure they're harder to smuggle out of your house but he can just use the excuse that you left it over at his when you question him on why one of your teddy bears is sitting peacefully on his otherwise plain bed.

Will play up a simple injury or cold so you'll be his little doctor. He'll look practically dead but still be mumbling about how you don't have to be there with him if it's too much trouble, he doesn't wanna ruin your weekend by keeping you stuck inside the house. Yet his big puppy eyes just won't let you say no, and that's exactly what he wants. A small grin spreads across his face once you've tucked him into your chest, after rubbing vicks all over him and making sure his belly is full of yummy soup.

He convinces you to give him a copy of your house key, telling you it's just for emergencies and in case anything ever happens. But Steve uses it for going and just…sitting in your room, laying on your bed as he soaks in the atmosphere that feels like where he belongs more than anywhere in the world. Like that's where he's meant to be. He doesn't usually take anything but he will search through your stuff. Making sure you're not hiding anything from him.

Steve can't handle the idea of not knowing where you are, what you're doing, who you're with. He has to know. He just has to, otherwise he will go insane. Sneaking off when it's slow at work to call your house phone to make sure you're at home when you said you'd be. Asking who you're going out with when you tell him you plan on visiting a couple of stores. Probably telling you that he doesn't like you being alone with certain friends and that he'd rather you wait until he has a day off to go.

Will tell you that the movie you want to rent isn't available so you'll keep coming into the store to check on it. He has no issue telling you that it's out yet again so he can get a glimpse of your precious pout. Leaning far too close over the counter to be considered just friendly, eyes roaming every inch of your figure he can see. Blatantly staring at your ass while you walk away as he chubs up behind the desk.

He says he feels as if you've put him under a spell. Mentioning how consumed he has become with you, ever since the first time he saw you. You take up and occupy the darkest places in his mind, places he doesn't usually dare go. But you force him to go there, force him to need you with him constantly. Steve says he feels like he's burning from within if you're separated for too long, like his veins are pure fire. The need to see you all the time manifesting itself as stolen pictures of you, him burying his face into the soft skin of your stomach as he sobs for you to never leave him and love him till you die.

Steve has a stash of little trinkets that remind him of you. A glass bead he found on the sidewalk that's your favorite color, a small ceramic cast of your favorite animal from the thrift stores, a plate and cup set from your favorite show and so much more.

He will absolutely park his car outside your house, just watching. "Keeping an eye on you for safety" is what he convinces himself what he's doing. In reality, he wants to see if you'll change by the window again or if you bring anybody up to your bedroom. If he notices someone he doesn't like, which is most people when it comes to you, Steve will act as if he was on a late night drive and somehow ended up at your house on "accident" and wanted to stop by. Seeming shy when he knocks because of how late it is but telling you how he just started driving here without realizing it when he went cruising

nsfw

Wants you to sit on his face and smother him. Break his neck. He'll beg for it if you want him to, Steve just wants to feel your weight and have your thighs squeeze all coherent thought from his brain. Constantly dragging you back down when you try to run away from his mouth as he laps at you and presses kisses to wherever he can reach. Not caring how sore his throat and neck will be in the morning.

Asks you to open wide after kissing you and to stick your tongue out for him. His cock practically a rock in his pants as he watches his spit land on your tongue and you greedily swallow it, and have the nerve to look at him all shy when he knows the only thought running through your head is him spitting in you in other places. He'd also let you spit on him if you wanted to, eyes blowing wide as he likes the idea of the role reversal

Thinks about bringing up recording the two of you having sex at least once a week. It would be so easy, and it's not like the tape would go anywhere it wouldn't need to be. Steve says he understands your hesitation when he finally brings it up to you but that it would be fun. Talking about it was if it's no big deal, and that he knows you'd enjoy it. After all, you enjoyed being filmed all the other times he did it. This time you'll just know about the camera..

Steve gets so worked up seeing you in his clothes, enough so that if they don't fit you comfortably that he would go buy more and wear them so they smelled like him like the others. You can see his adams apple bobble with every swallow as he watches you roam his house in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts. A tent slowly forming in his boxers that he palms at with his eyes glued to you and your figure.

Every time you stay over at his house, he can't keep himself from rutting up against you while you sleep. Hot puffs of breath fanning over your neck as he tries not to wake you with his jerky movements, one hand gripping the fabric of your shirt so hard his knuckles are white to keep from groping you. Although, at this point, what's the harm? He's already using your ass and thighs to get off so what's the point in denying himself feeling you up.

Something in him gets even more desperate when the two of you fuck. A need that's always there but usually under much better control. He needs you to tell him how good he's doing, how good he makes you feel and the way he makes you cum harder than you ever have. Needy and hurried thrusts making his hips smack against yours, his hairy chest pressed against your back with his arms wrapped around you. Clinging to you like you are the air he breathes and the blood that flows through him. Broken moans in your ear as he begs you to tell him that he's the only one for you.

He can't help but show just how desperate he is for you whenever you tell him you're horny. Eyes widening as he nods and looks around for a place to sneak off to so he can please you however you want. Steve's willing to ignore his borderline painful hard cock if you just wanna cum on his face, although he might slip a hand down to help ease the pressure. Always so eager to please yet he tries to hide it, in fear of you running off from how far he's willing to go for you….which is farther than most people think Steve's capable of…

Steve will, and does, worship you. Working his way up your legs with his kisses, starting with your feet and ankles. Ghosting over your hips, leading up to your chest. All while mumbling praise after praise into your skin, telling you how much he loves you. How lucky he is that you let him spoil you the way that he does. That he's thankful such a divine being like you uses him and his cock.

He will offer to cook for you whenever you want but his food always has one special ingredient. Steve likes to pump his cum into whatever he can, eyes wide as he watches you eat whatever he made. Cock hardening again knowing that you're enjoying eating his cum, flush rising to his cheeks if you compliment him on it. He'll just smile and tell you he tried a new way of making it, just for you.

Adores the sight of you bouncing on his cock and feeling your thighs slap against his. Feeling your hands grip onto his hairy chest for support. His eyes roll back as he moans out, head tossed back into one of many pillows he put on the bed in hopes you'd stay the night more. Can't keep his hands still, they roam your sweaty body and wrap around your waist. When he notices you getting tired, he'll plant his feet and start to thrust up in to you.

Will ask you to not wear any underwear, especially in public. Thinks its fun to stick his hand down there and play with you just enough to get you frustrated and whining. Patting you on your butt, mumbling about waiting till you get home later.

Steve always, always, always wants to finish in you. He complains about it being a waste if he doesn't, sometimes not even wanting you to swallow. He'll use a condom if you're adamant about it but would much rather prefer raw. Loving the feeling of nothing coming between you two when you're physically as close as possible without a way of crawling into one another

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gaysindistress · 6 months

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Van Helsing Retold - six

pairings: vamp hunter!reader x vamp!bucky

Summary: Under the cover of night, vampires and their hunters have been at war for centuries, never letting their bloodshed reach the light of day. That is until the wife of a powerful vampire leader, Steve Rogers is murdered and he demands revenge. Y/N Van Helsing is the target of his crusade and she comes face to face with his right hand man, Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: cursing, violence, blood, vampire antics

Word count: 2.4K

Five | series masterlist

Tag list: @emerald-writes @globetrotter28 @vonalyn @cakesandtom @nerdytif @teambarnes72 @crazyunsexycool

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

My mother flinches when I say the title that she has probably never heard and it sends a a ripple of hurt through me. She’s here. She’s alive. She…she’s alive and yet she left me with the Guild. She left me. My lungs feel like they’ve been ripped from my body and in their place is a gaping hole that my chest squeezes around, trying to keep itself alive. Sam’s hand darts out and wraps itself around my bicep before I can stumble forward towards her. Another wave of shock and fear rolls in, Bucky’s emotions to be exact.

“I feel like a test of your love is fitting, don’t you?” Steve’s voice cracks through my shock, “I’ll let one of them go if you complete the turning process.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, Bucky crumbles to the ground beside Steve as a result of another vampire jabbing him with a cattle prod. I gasp in pain and crumble too as I watch him fall and Sam grunts in protest from being caught off guard.

“What do you mean complete the turning process?” I manage to gasp out and Steve’s sharp gaze cuts to me and then to my infected hand.

“I can practically hear the venom crying out to be feed,” he casually states as he looks between Bucky, my mom, John, and myself, “so who will it be, Y/N Van Helsing? Your mother who you thought tragically died when you were an infant, the Guild Master who’s hopelessly in love with you, or the vampire that has a soft spot for you?

Bucky growls but is forced to the ground again with another stinging zap of the prod. John makes a noise too but my focus is entirely on Bucky. How could Steve have known? I go over every little memory that I can manage, desperately searching for anything that might explain how he could possibly know. Bucky’s noises of protest are growing weaker, spurring me to look even harder when it hits me; Steve didn’t say that we were mates.

He doesn’t know. He only thinks that Bucky has taken a liking to me but he doesn’t know about our bond and that is something that I can use to my advantage.

I gently push off of Sam and do a mental check of my body; my hand is throbbing now due to the nearby blood but the vial that Bucky had given me earlier is still tucked into my sleeve. Straightening my back and squaring my shoulders, I lock eyes with Steve as I start my negotiations, “If I turn…”

Bucky cuts me off with a pained groan that sounds like he’s trying to say no but the electricity from the prod drowns it out. I force myself to keep my eyes on Steve and I continue, “If I turn, you will let both John and my mom go.”

Steve gives me a bored look and I offer up another condition to sweeten the pot, “And I’ll kill Bucky. Save you the trouble.”

That earns another pained groan and a deep, blood curdling laugh from Steve.

“You’d kill him for me?” Steve asks as he breaks our stare to look down at Bucky. He crouches to his level and disgust drips from his voice, “Did you hear that? She said she would kill you herself if I let the other two go.”

Sam grabs ahold of my elbow and jerks me back, “What the fuck?”

I don’t look at him while I pull the vial from my pocket and tuck it into my fist. Sam curses under his breath when he sees the flash of glass and blood, “what’s the plan?”

“I’ll take him out while you get my mom and John.”

It’s not lost on him that I didn’t mention Bucky and he squeezes my elbow, wordlessly asking me about him. I shoot him a pointed look over my shoulder and he drops my arm. The meaning behind my look is not exactly reassuring or clear, for that matter, but either way, he knows better than to question me. He’s always trusted my judgement and he has no choice but to do the same now.

Steve stands up and claps his hands together before making a show of presenting my mom and John to me, “Go on then Van Helsing. Feed and complete your transition.”

“I don’t suppose you have blood bags laying around?” I ask him while coming to stand before them.

“Fresh is always better,” he winks at me as I fight the urge to scoff at him. The transition doesn’t require more than a drop of human blood but new vampires are known to be violent and implusive. They can’t stop the moment the blood touches their lips and no matter the amount of self control I have now, I know I’ll fall victim to the blood lust if I’m not careful.

I stop in front of John and my mom and look between them as I stall, pretending to struggle in my decision about who to feed from. Bucky is telling me to choose John through the tidal waves of anger and hatred that break across our bond and without a second thought, I do take a half step towards him. His shock is written plainly on his face albeit difficult to see behind the blood and swelling. Of course, he would think so highly of himself as to believe that I might actually feed from my mom over him. However I don’t know her and therefore can’t trust her to keep quiet as I let the vial of Bucky’s blood slip into my hand and kneel in front of him. His eyes flicker to my hand and I quickly whisper for him to look at Sam. The gentle command will seem like evidence of whatever love Steve thinks I have for John but it’s to keep him from growing suspicious and demanding to see what’s in my hand.

I take John’s wrist in my other hand, whispering to him the plan, “On my word, take my mom and run.”

“I’m not doing that Y/N. I’m not leaving you here to get yourself killed,” he hisses and tries to jerk his wrist away. My infected hand, the one that’s wrapped around it, tighthens its grip with a new strength that I can only assume came from the venom. He hisses again although in pain this time and if he had more strengthen himself, he would’ve tried a second time to break free.

Steve’s patience is beginning to wear thin and he demands for me to get a move on it before he slits both of their throats.

“Please,” is the last thing I whisper to John before yanking the cap off of the vial and bringing it my lips but it seems that I’m not fast enough. Steve lets out a monstrous roar as he launches himself at me and rips me back with a fistful of my hair. My hands fly back to try to claw his away as Bucky and I let groans of pain out at the same time. John tries to pull my back but another vampire has grabbed him and as well as my mom.

The sound of glass shattering draws everyone’s attention to the small pool of blood on the ground between John and me. No one makes a sounds as confusion takes ahold but Steve’s grip grows tighter when the realization hits him. Sam curses under his breath from behind us when Steve yanks me to my feet. Moving his hand to wrap around my neck, he pins my back to his chest and his scruff scratches against my cheek as he speaks lowly into my ear, “Whose blood does that belong to, Van Helsing? What vampire was stupid enough to infect you without seeing you through the turn?”

When I don’t answer right away, he squeezes tighter and tighter until I’m tearing at his hands to pull him away. He demands me to answer his question before repeating it.

“Your wife,” my voice comes out in the form of a squeak but he hears me regardless.

“My wife?”

“S…She spit on me as…,” I stammer through the weight of Steve’s grip on my neck, “as… I shot a stake through…her heart.”

He doesn’t make any sudden movements like I had expected and chuckles instead, “So you were the one who killed my mate?”

“Yes and I would do it again.”

He sniffs the air for a moment and then tightens his grip once more as he lays eyes on Bucky who is still crouching on the ground. The vampire behind him has the cattle prod shoved into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, awaiting any chance to shock my mate.

“Do you know what my favorite part of the transition is?” he whispers without waiting for my answer, “My favorite part is that you can still be persuaded. You’re not quite human, not quite vampire which makes you to the most dangerous and perfect weapon I can think of.”

“No,” I mummer in disbelief and he finds great pleasure in that.

“What was that Van Helsing?” he spins me around so that I’m facing him and he forces me to make eye contant with him.

“No,” I whisper louder and it spurs him to gesture to the vampire holding John. The vampire jerks my Guild Master forward and when he is within arm’s reach, Steve swipes some blood form his face with his thumb. I struggle against him, using my nails to tear at his hand and fight as much as I can but it’s no use. I’m not strong enough to get him off of me and the venom is slowly draining whatever strength I do have.

“Whose blood was in that vial?”

The unwelcome familiar wave of complacency overcomes me as I mindlessly answer him, “Bucky’s.”

“Bucky’s?” he parrots with mock shock, “Is he your mate?”

“Yes,” I whisper before he forces my mouth open and wipes John’s blood onto my tongue. A bitter coppery taste fills my mouth and not soon after, a dry thirst follows. It feels as though my body has become immediately addicted to it and it’s been 30 seconds too long since I’ve had my last fix.

“Kill him.”

My body obeys and my mind fades to black as to save me from remembering my next actions.

The transition must have completed itself or completed enough that I get the pleasure of witnessing my chaos because I’m self aware again. Barely but I’m in control of myself again which is more than before. A broken voice from under me catches my attention and I look down as it calls to me again.

“It’s okay.”

I stare with a wild look in my eye at the hard body beneath me. I can hear every movement inside of his body. I can hear every shallow move of his chest and how the nerves in his back are screaming from being pressed into the hard floor. I can hear his lashes as they flutter against the top of his cheek. I can hear the tears that slip down the side of his face and how they splatter on the ground. I can hear as his body starts to accept its fate and it slows.

“It’s okay.”

I can hear the air being pushed from his lungs to his lips as his speaks.

“It’s okay.”

When my eyes finally focus, all I see is the beaten and bloody face of my mate laying under me. The knife I’m holding is pressing into the soft skin of his throat while thin black lines of blood mix with his tears.

“Bucky,” is all I manage to choke out.

His eyes open and even though, he is dying, he still smiles at me.

“Y/n,” he whispers back, “there you are.”

“I can’t…i can’t.”

“I know and it’s okay,” he tells me as my hand presses the knife harder against my will.

“It’s not. It’s not,” I ramble, trying to force my hand to move but stays put, “It’s not fucking okay.”

“When I found you but couldn’t have you and all I had was my dreams, I didn’t care what you were doing. Only that you were with me,” he tells me, “even if you were trying to kill me.”

He lets out a sad chuckle, “it’s ironic that this is how it ends for me.”

My tears start to blur my vision and he gently wipes them away for me, “i wish we could’ve had more time, Y/N. Then I would’ve got the chance to tell you how in love with you I am.”

“Fuck,” i scream.

My knife presses harder. It’s met with little resistance.

“I love you too.”

The turning process didn’t hurt but it wasn’t pleasant. I was hyper aware of every little thing and i became so over stimulated that i threatened to cut my own ears off if Sam didn’t stop breathing so hard.

I think the hardest part was not having Bucky there with me, to guide me, to comfort me, to love me when I couldn’t love myself for becoming what I’d hated for so long.

Sam could only do so much and with no other friendly vamps handy, all I had was myself and the unconscious body of my mate to attend to, a distraction from the burning bond in my chest.

A startled gasp yanks me from my sleep and I blink frantically as my eyes adjust to the lights. Bucky is sitting straight up in the makeshift cot Sam and I scrounged together. He’s looking around the room, taking in his surroundings as he comes to the realization that he’s alive.

“Took you long enough,” I tease him while standing and moving to sit on the bed’s edge.

“Y/N?”

“Bucky.”

He throws himself at me, pulling me into the most bone crushing hug he can manage in his weakened state. Burying his face in my neck, Bucky takes deep breaths in and his body shudders when it recognizes me. I wrap my arms around him too and we stay like this for a while. I’m not sure how long but it’ll never be long enough.

Eternity would not be long enough but luckily we have it so we can at least try.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #van helsing retold bucky #van helsing retold bucky barnes #vampire!bucky x reader #vampire bucky barnes #vampire au

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artiststarme · 1 year

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Burning Down The House

Well, this turned out to be a little angstier than I anticipated but I hope you guys like it! I'm thinking there will probably be a part 2, maybe a part 3 as well. As always, please leave your thoughts in the comments and if you have any title ideas, send them my way!

~*~*~*~

Eddie was used to people hating him. He was long accustomed to the insults, points, and glares that came from being different in a small town. As sad as it was, it was a constant in Eddie’s life. No matter what, he could always count on people to despise him for being himself. It didn’t matter if he was a scared little kid moving in with his uncle to escape his father’s abuse or if he was a grown man trying to move on after a traumatizing experience, the people of Hawkins were never going to show him any respect.

Every time he left his house after the Spring Break from hell and his subsequent recovery period in the hospital, the fellow people of Hawkins made sure to show him how much they didn’t want him there. Andy and his other jockey goons would corner him to give him flurries of punches that would leave his ears ringing for days. Principal Higgins had gifted him his high school diploma through the mail on the condition that ‘he just stay away’. Even the little old ladies that were once enamored by his politeness glared at him now on the street.

But Eddie could handle it, he’d long given up on winning everyone over. Years ago, he’d built his armor into impenetrable walls of steel that hadn’t failed him yet. He’d grown his hair out into a dark curtain to use as a shroud, he’d wrestled into a battle jacket, and covered his vulnerabilities with patches for metal bands. The people of Hawkins couldn’t get to him now.

They could get to Wayne though, and they did. Eddie came home one too many times to Wayne scrubbing spray paint off the sides of the trailer, arthritic fingers cramping as he tried to spare Eddie’s feelings from the harsh words scrawled in paint. He’d see Wayne’s old friends avoiding him downtown, not wanting to associate with the guy related to a murderer. But Eddie’s breaking point was when he stumbled upon Steve helping Wayne into the trailer one day.

Steve wasn’t supposed to come over that day so Eddie had taken a nap instead. But when he heard loud voices coming from the kitchen, Eddie climbed out of bed to investigate. What he saw though was something he wished he’d never seen. Steve was holding one of Wayne’s arms, guiding him to the couch in the living room while Wayne held a bag of frozen peas against his eye. His face was bruised and he was limping as if his body was battered.

“What the fuck? What’s going on? Uncle Wayne, are you okay?” Eddie asked them frantically. Uncle Wayne just eased back onto the couch with one hand on his ribs and the other still holding the frozen peas.

“I’m alright, kid. It ain’t nothing I can’t handle,” Wayne comforted him.

“‘Nothing you can’t handle?’ What the fuck was it that you had to handle, Uncle Wayne?” Eddie desperately asked again.

“Look Eds-”

“I caught some of the old basketball team beating on him. I managed to chase them off but not before they got in a few punches. Nothing too serious though, I’m almost positive he just has a shiner and some bruised ribs. No concussion,” Steve assured him.

“You didn’t have to tell him that. Snitches get stitches, Harrington,” Wayne hissed at him.

Eddie couldn’t get over the fact that Wayne had gotten hurt at all. Hawkins was his home, Wayne had lived there his entire life and now the community that he’d grown up with was turning on him? Just because Eddie was accused of some murders that he didn’t even commit? It was such… bullshit.

“Uncle Wayne, I’m so sorry! This is all my fault. You don’t deserve this, I should- I’m just so sorry.” Eddie felt tears build up in his eyes. There was no one less deserving of a beating than Wayne. He was the saint that took Eddie in when no one else wanted him so for him to take the brunt of Eddie’s actions, it made him feel terrible.

“Boy, this ain’t yer fault. You didn’t do nothing and you don’t deserve this either. I’m fine, everything’s gonna be alright. We just gotta wait for this to blow over,” Wayne told him calmly. He could tell that Eddie was on the verge of a panic attack but he knew that words always calmed him down.

Steve just shook his head at them both and handed Wayne some more ice. “I don’t think this is going to blow over. I heard some of my neighbors are trying to get the cops to arrest Eddie again even though we already got his name cleared. And I guess some of the guys on the basketball team with Lucas are trying to scare you guys off. It might be time for you guys to move somewhere else.”

Eddie just looked at him blankly. “And go where? With what money? We can’t afford to leave.”

Wayne hummed, “Nah, I don’t want to leave here. Hawkins is home whether they like us here or not. We’re staying until we can’t no more.”

Steve and Eddie made eye contact over Wayne’s head and shared a heavy look. That day was approaching faster than anyone was comfortable with. The town had always hated Eddie but Wayne now too? Things were escalating and it would only be a matter of time before the choice was taken from them.

Later that night, Eddie was wrapped like an octopus around Steve in his bedroom when he heard glass breaking. His head shot up in tandem with Steve’s and they both hurried to get out of bed. Steve grabbed his nail studded bat that he’d taken to storing next to the bed and made his way down the hallway. They didn’t see an intruder but what they found was so much worse.

The entire kitchen was engulfed in flames. The fire was creeping along the walls of the living room and the charring was reminiscent of that of the Upside Down. Thick, black smoke threatened to suffocate anyone that tried to combat it.

“Fuck Eddie, get Wayne! Get as much shit as you can and get out!” Steve yelled at him as he dropped the bat and hurried to fill a mixing bowl with water. “Eddie, go!”

Eddie spun around and bolted to Wayne’s room. His uncle was sleeping soundly on the bed, the bruising along his face darkened further with the light of the fire illuminating it.

“Wayne! Get up, the trailer is on fire!” He shook his uncle’s shoulders until his eyes squinted open. “Uncle Wayne, the house is on fire, we have to go!”

They made it outside before any real damage could be done. Wayne and Eddie were fine, no burns or smoke inhalation. Steve, the glorious and idiotic bastard that he was, contained the fire to the kitchen until the fire department got there and refused to leave the trailer until he’d secured Wayne’s favorite Garfield coffee mug. Wayne couldn’t even yell at him when he showed him, just pulled him into a long hug and nestled the mug close to his chest.

It seemed that their prior conversation had tempted the universe because they couldn’t stay in Hawkins after that. Even with little damage occurring to the bedrooms, the fire damage to the kitchen and living room areas made the trailer uninhabitable.

After packing what they could into the cars, they made their way to the Harrington’s house to spend the night. Eddie couldn’t stop shaking during the drive and long after Steve had pulled him into his own bedroom.

“Eds, it’s okay. Everything is fine, we all got out safe and Wayne got to keep his favorite mugs and caps. Win-win, everything will be okay.”

Eddie just looked at him in shock. “Everything is not okay, Steve! Someone tried to murder us in our sleep and then ruined our trailer by setting it on fire. That’s not okay! And now we have to find a new place to live and after this, it’s definitely not going to be in Hawkins which means I’ll have to leave you and the kids. Nothing about this is okay!”

Steve pulled Eddie into his arms and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Eddie, we’ll find a new place for you guys and we’ll make sure you’re safe. And you don’t need to worry about me. I love you so I’m going to follow you wherever you go.”

“What about Wayne?”

“He’s probably going to throw more of a fit if I don’t go. I’ve heard him telling you to buy me a ring, I don’t think he’ll let you leave me here if you tried,” Steve chuckled.

That was true, Wayne had been threatening to propose on his behalf if he didn’t get a move on even though gay marriage wasn’t legal yet in the first place. Regardless, Steve wasn’t getting away from the Munsons anytime soon.

Steve brushed his hair off his face as he thought and whispered, “get some sleep, Eds. We’ll worry about it in the morning. You’re safe here, I got you.”

And with that, Eddie fell asleep feeling safer and more secure than he had in months, maybe ever. Nothing was alright right now but they would be eventually. Especially if he had Wayne and Steve to count on, which he would for a long time coming.

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#they all end up moving somewhere and starting life over outside of Hawkins #Steve doesn't tell the Party he's leaving too just kind of sneaks off while they're saying goodbye to Eddie and never comes back #Robin hunts him down and almost gives him another concussion #stranger things #steddie #angst #steve harrington #eddie munson #uncle wayne #wayne munson

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