#bad. it’s just. a place. and steve did not grow and change for the better bc he got out of hawkins. he got better bc he put the effort in

[scoopstomyahoy]

thinking about a no upside down au steddie fic where steve and eddie run into each other years after moving away from hawkins, and eddie remembers steve and his fall from grace as king, and is kind of intrigued to see what kind of person he is now

and steve doesn’t remember him at all at first, because, look, eddie changed his hair again, and steve’s had a few head injuries (no upside down but i imagine he still went thru some shit with the party and with robin), and he didn’t really think about eddie in high school anyway, and he’s trying to forget about hawkins as much as possible (besides the kiddos, but they’re all moved out for college now, anyway) (obviously he lives with robin)

but steve is different now, happier, more open, flirts with guys, flirts with EDDIE, and eddie….. well, he wants to know more! and he tells steve he knows him from hawkins, and steve’s sunny little smile flickers a little, but he just apologizes for not remembering him and mentions he has some memory problems

and they get to know each other, and eventually as eddie tells him more (and maybe with the help of some yearbooks) steve remembers eddie. and. well. they like getting to know each other. and they like each other. and then they get together

eventually they’ve been together for a while, and eddie thinks he wants to maybe introduce steve to wayne, and he mentions he’s going to go back to hawkins for a long weekend (as he’s done a couple times) and this time he’d like steve to join him

and again steve’s sunny smile flickers a bit, but he says he’d love to meet eddie’s uncle, and… they go to hawkins. and it goes well— meeting wayne, at least, but steve seems a little on edge the whole time they’re there, tense when they drive in, fidgety when they go to the grocery store, et cetera. eddie thinks maybe steve is nervous about staying with the man who raised eddie, which is ridiculous, because wayne LOVES steve.

it’s not til they leave the town altogether that steve relaxes, and eddie realizes it wasn’t “meeting the parents” but rather going back to hawkins. and speaking of meeting the parents, steve didn’t ever bring his own up, even though eddie knew they still lived in hawkins. and the way steve glanced around whenever they went in public, like he was scared of getting recognized

and he asks about it, and steve doesn’t really want to talk about it, but he gives eddie snippets of it. people he wanted to leave behind in hawkins, memories that resurfaced, things he wants to forget

eddie goes back to see wayne sometimes, and the first time he doesn’t know whether to ask steve to come, so he just mentions he’s thinking about going to hawkins for some weekend and steve immediately starts making plans with him as if the invite is implicit. they go back to hawkins several more times, steve still tense and pent up the whole time they’re there

over time steve reveals more and more to eddie. everything that made hawkins hell for him, from the things he himself did in high school to the things people did to him. stuff tommy and carol and billy said to him. some of it is just typical high school bullshit (and oh, the nancy thing.) some of it is the tragedies steve went through, the horrors he had to protect his kids from. the injuries he sustained. more generally the homophobia that permeated the whole town, keeping steve from being himself. the lack of support in the indiana public school system for a high school senior who’s had two concussions and gone through incredible trauma.

his parents. the reason why steve’s mail is addressed to ‘steve buckley’ now, not ‘steve harrington’.

(that doesn’t come out until much, much later, and eddie is kicking himself for ever suggesting steve come back to hawkins.)

eddie, who hardly had an easy time of it in hawkins, is absolutely blown away by what steve had gone through in the same town, right under his nose. the entire persona that steve was trying to leave behind — the cool as a cucumber, unaffected, douchey mask he wore to hide all that he had endured. the head injuries. the emotional tragedies he had gone through. the way he had to be the rock for the kids even as he went through the same things as them.

he tries to tell steve they never have to go back to hawkins again, and steve is having none of it. he tells steve wayne can come visit them in their new city, and steve thinks that’s completely unfair to the man who had raised eddie, seriously, you’re going to make him come all the way up here?

and well i don’t know exactly what the ending is but steve is so stubborn about trying to love hawkins because it was eddie’s home and he wants to be able to go see wayne because wayne deserves to see his kid and eddie deserves to see his uncle and steve doesn’t want to be the problem :(

#steddie #stranger things #this isn’t very fleshed out but just. hawkins as an incredibly scarring place for steve #something built up in his mind as a very dangerous place for him not just because of what happened there but who he had to be there #i think ultimately it would culminate in them going back to hawkins and running into steve’s parents when they least expect it #and steve gets to yell at them in public and tell them they suck and ruin their image and eddie is being his little guard dog next to him #baring his teeth #for the no upside down part of the au i think it would have to be like. nebulous tragedy of season 1 struck them #barb still died (sorry barb) so that his relationship with nancy falls apart. will and el are twins and they disappear the same night #steve knows the kids earlier in the timeline in this one and has already basically adopted them when will and el go missing #eddie was never the victim of a massive witch hunt but jason still harasses him during his third senior year and gets ppl to gang up on him #so he was never like Wanted by all of hawkins and can never return but he sure doesn’t feel welcome there besides w wayne #oh i also think it would be important that one of the trips steve snaps at eddie bc he’s so strung out and immediately regrets it #and takes it as proof that when in hawkins Steve Is A Bad Person and tries to explain this to eddie #eddie meanwhile is trying to convince steve that he’s not a bad person and that he was being mean because he’s completely stressed out #and he wouldn’t be so stressed out if he didn’t make himself come back to hawkins #anyway ultimately. steve realized hawkins is just a place where bad things happened. it is not a place that makes people (including himself) #bad. it’s just. a place. and steve did not grow and change for the better bc he got out of hawkins. he got better bc he put the effort in #god i just. love steve so much and the version of him in my mind is so much better developed than what the duffers are doing

[harmonictechnicality]

Robin drags Steve to a local art exhibit on a goddamn weeknight. This is not his scene at all.

Pretentious douchebags in scarves discussing if that splatter of paint represents socioeconomic downfall? Nah, this shit is not for him.

Robin ditches him halfway through the exhibit to talk to some sculptor that she’s got a thing for. Honestly, Steve would’ve done the same thing if it were him. But still, Steve is five minutes away from leaving her ass and taking a cab home.

He’s sitting on metal bench, centered a few feet away from the oversized canvas of scattered colors.

It looks like such a mess. Scribbled strokes of paint and lines that bump into curves. Everything intersecting. Someone would probably try to convince him that it represents the artist’s troubled past or fucked up childhood.

To Steve, it’s just a mess.

“What do you think?” A voice asks, joining Steve on the bench.

He looks to be about Steve’s age. Bold features, bolder hairstyle. All black clothes with chunky red combat boots. Elaborate tattoos creeping over the collar of his shirt.

Steve shrugs. “Truthfully? I don’t get it.”

“It’s art. What don’t you get about it?” The guy looks stunned.

Is Steve really about to argue with a complete stranger over lines and colors?

“There’s nothing but lost movements.”

Guess he is.

Steve observes the nameplate next to the canvas and goes off.

“Like this Eddie Munson guy held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’ Honestly, this whole place is a facade for people to masquerade around, pretending to be in tune to artistic expression, but they’re not.”

“They’re not?”

“No.” Steve answers immediately, a little defensive. “Nobody here gives a shit about what the artist is trying to convey, and this artist…”

Steve points at the artwork.

“This Munson guy knew that. Knew he could fool every rich asshole in this place.”

The guy looks at the painting and laughs. He’s got a nice smile, Steve thinks. Wide and genuine. Not too perfect. Not overly rehearsed. Like he doesn’t give out smiles to just anyone.

“Eddie Munson couldn’t fool you though, could he?” He finally says, looking directly at Steve.

The intense eye contact makes Steve a bit fidgety. Nervous. “I guess not, no.”

“I like that.”

“Like what?”

“That you refuse to see what everyone else sees.” The guy turns away, releasing Steve from the gaze. “Even if that would be easier.”

It almost sounded like he was trying to say he likes Steve. Not that Steve would complain if that were true. This guy is not his type, but that doesn’t mean he’s unwilling to expand his definition of type for someone that’s interested in him.

“What do you think about it?” Steve tilts his head towards the canvas.

The guy twists the ring on his thumb, processing an answer. He crosses his legs, then un-crosses them. Twists the ring counterclockwise now.

“I think the painter abandoned their originality to meet their growing audience’s expectations of them as an artist.” He finally says.

Steve scoffs. “How did you draw up a conclusion like that?”

The guy hums and abruptly changes the topic. “What did you say your name was?”

“Steve Harrington.”

“Right.” He gets up and gestures toward a ‘staff only’ door. “Up for a little field trip, Steve Harrington?”

This is dumb. Breaking laws is something Steve left behind in his angst-filled teen years.

But this guy is bad-boy hot and Steve is painfully bored, so he follows the stranger despite his better judgement.

They enter the door and are instantly greeted by a trail of empty paint buckets. There’s dirty tarps covering the floors and countless canvases laid out across the wide room.

Right away, Steve can tell this is what art is all about. The chaos. The urgency to create as soon inspiration strikes.

And these paintings look nothing like the one hanging in the gallery. These paintings are full narratives told through shapes and pigments.

These paintings could be an autobiography on the topic of someone who experiences life deeply. Passionately.

These are the untold masterpieces.

“Wow.” Is all Steve finally comes up with.

“To answer your question,” the stranger gestures grandly to the entirety of the room. “This is how I drew up that conclusion.”

“This was the originality. It’s stuck behind these four walls, but it’s where everything started. It’s where everything should have stayed.”

Steve carefully watches the man explore all the different works of art. Bending down to touch some. Smiling playfully at others. Steve is stupidly captivated by his ability to shine amongst literal art.

“What did you say your name was?”

The guy chuckles and walks back over to Steve. “I didn’t.”

“Right. Are you gonna tell me?”

“That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on if you’ll still kiss me after I tell you.”

They’re standing close, Steve hadn’t realized it until now. Maybe it was him closing the distance. Maybe it was the stranger. Maybe it was gravity growing tired of their mediocre foreplay.

But they’re close now. So close that Steve can see the lightening bolt tattoo below the stranger’s left ear. A thought runs rampant in Steve’s slutty mind that he could see every single neck tattoo if he were to start unbuttoning this guy’s shirt.

He’s close enough to do it.

“I’ll still kiss you afterwards,” Steve agrees dreamily. Getting high off of paint fumes and close proximity.

The stranger lets his hand wander up the back of Steve’s neck, breaths getting caught in Steve’s throat at the contact.

“I’m that Eddie Munson guy.” He says in a low whisper. “The same one who held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’”

Every word he utters is cautious now. Like Steve might change his mind about kissing him.

Steve doesn’t change his mind.

He pulls hard at Eddie’s collar, lets their lips collide dizzily fast. Eddie’s mouth pushes against his to lead the kiss, Steve is more than happy to let him do so.

It’s a noisy kiss. Sounds escaping out of the corners of their mouths. Airy gasps and rustling clothes filling the open space.

Steve breaks the kiss to speak, inhaling as much oxygen as he can get. “I’m guessing you bring lots of guys back here and woo them with your secretly amazing art.”

Eddie had transitioned to kissing Steve’s neck while he was talking, but stops as soon as Steve says that.

“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart.” Eddie cradles Steve’s flushed cheeks with both hands. “I only bring pretty boys who refuse to see what everyone else sees back here.”

Steve moves Eddie’s hands and wraps them around his own neck. “Even if that would be easier.”

Eddie smiles. “Exactly.”

He goes back to sucking on Steve’s neck, like he was rudely interrupted before, and Steve starts to feel as chaotic as the art surrounding them. Eddie marks him with a fresh bruise, just below his right ear. Mirroring the exact spot where Eddie’s lightening tattoo is located.

Eddie licks over it. Swirling his tongue in sweltering circles, making Steve pant wow as he finishes the creation he was designing solely with his mouth.

He exhales a single laugh into their kiss.

“Why are you laughing?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head.

“I really like doing things that make you say wow like that, Steve Harrington.”

Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “I really like that too.”

Eddie kisses him thoroughly slow once more, then nibbles over Steve’s ear as he whispers:

“Kinda curious to find out what else I can make you say.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #art gallery meetcute #it gets a little smooch heavy at the end there #I’m physically incapable of writing Eddie not giving lovebites #it’s probably a disease i should get my head checked out

[lvrdrafts]

Rescued by Love Part 2

★ Summary: Your brother Steve always hated you after your mother's death and when he finally gets the family's empire he is ready to sell you off to some toxic marriage but will the knight and shining armor save you or make it worse?

★ Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

★ Warnings: Arranged Marriage

★ Genre: Angst/ Fluff

Masterlist

The prospect of an arranged marriage had always seemed like a relic of the past, something that belonged to a different era. Yet here you were, facing this reality head-on as you prepared to meet the parents of the man you were about to marry – Bucky Barnes.

At first you were very nervous meeting them but as the conversations flowed, you found yourself laughing at Mr. Barnes' witty anecdotes, and Mrs. Barnes even shared a few embarrassing stories about Bucky's childhood. The tension that once hung in the air seemed to dissipate, and for a while, you allowed yourself to believe that things were changing for the better.

As dessert was served, Bucky's father leaned back in his chair, a contented smile on his face. "I must admit, I'm surprised. You've managed to bring a certain charm to this place. I can't believe Bucky was able to find someone" he says and you laugh.

"I'm just happy my son brought a decent girl to marry." Bucky's mother says with a smile. With all these compliments you felt as if this arranged marriage wouldn't be that bad.

After some time, you excused yourself to use the bathroom, a small smile playing on your lips as you left the room. As you walked back, your footsteps light, you couldn't help but overhear a conversation that left you frozen in place.

"You know," Bucky's mother voice was hushed but still audible, "She's charming, but not exactly what I expected"

Bucky's father's response was just as cutting, "Well, she may not be that pretty, but if she can bring us a lot of heirs, that should make up for it."

Your heart sank, the weight of their words pressing down on you like a heavy stone. The moment shattered the illusion you had dared to hold onto, the belief that you were making progress in winning their approval. And then, Bucky's voice, his tone almost resigned, "I'm marrying her because of necessity, not because of her looks."

Tears stung at your eyes as you grappled with the realization that the warmth and acceptance you had felt might have been nothing more than a facade. The hurt cut deep, and you struggled to hold back the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall, and pushed open the door. Entering the room, you did your best to compose yourself, your emotions hidden behind a practiced smile. "I hope I didn't miss anything important."

Bucky's parents exchanged glances, their expressions revealing nothing of the conversation you had inadvertently overheard. "Of course not, dear" Bucky's mother replied, her smile almost too sweet.

And so, you resumed your place at the table, the weight of their words heavy on your heart. You engaged in the conversation, playing your part in the façade, all the while feeling the distance between you and the family grow.

As the evening drew to a close, you exchanged polite goodbyes, a sense of emptiness settling within you. The illusion of acceptance had been shattered, and you were left to grapple with the reality of their expectations.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

After the whirlwind evening at the Barnes estate, marked by both fleeting warmth and heartbreaking revelations, the days that followed were a blur. The weight of impending changes hung over you like a storm cloud as you and Bucky moved forward with the marriage arrangements. The papers were signed, sealing your fate within this complicated alliance.

A few days later, you found yourself standing in your own home, surrounded by half-packed boxes. The reality of leaving your life behind to move into Bucky's home felt like an overwhelming prospect. You folded a shirt, your mind wandering between thoughts of the past and apprehensions about the future.

And yet, the past was a shadow that refused to fade. Every item you folded seemed to hold memories – memories of the years you spent with Steve a man who had harbored resentment for as long as you could remember.

While in your thoughts you hear footsteps and you turn around to see the man himself. "I'm happy you're leaving. Maybe now I can finally have some peace" Steve's voice, filled with bitterness, echoed in your mind as you folded a cherished sweater.

Tears fell onto the fabric, as if your sorrow had seeped into every fiber. The weight of his words pressed heavily on your chest, and it felt like you were carrying the weight of his blame as you placed the sweater in the suitcase.

"This is a blessing in disguise – well, for me, really. At least I won't have to see your face around here anymore." Steve says chuckling at the sight of your tears.

The words struck like a dagger, reopening wounds that had never truly healed. "Steve, I didn't ask for any of this. I lost her too, and I've carried that pain with me every day."

He scoffed, his eyes narrowing in disdain. "You think your life is hard, well its not harder then mine. You may have lost her, but you didn't suffer like I did. You didn't have to watch her die."

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you struggled to contain your emotions. "Well at least you didn't lose your mother, and your brother you asshole!" you scream.

Steve looks at you with no emotion and you can't see if you hurt him that badly or he just doesn't care that much. "Get the fuck out of my house and I don't want to see you again" Steve says walking away.

As he walked away, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling hands. The room felt emptier now, your belongings neatly packed and ready to leave behind the pain and resentment that had defined your relationship with Steve.

Taglist:

@cjand10 @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @hereticdance @kentokaze @bruher @tupperwarefullofdirt

#bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader angst #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x reader angst

[luveline]

Jadeee! I had a thought reading the last zombie au story, with r taking a bath in the cold water and she was super chilly maybe she gets a tad sick (maybe just some sniffles or a stuffy nose) and Robin and Steve kind of go overboard to take care of her? (And cuddles with Robin's new cat!!)

thank you for your request angel, hope this is ok. steve zombie au —steve and robin take look after you when you get sick. fem!reader, 2k

There are better places to feel shitty. You're the kind of sick that could get dangerous —hypothermia, maybe pneumonia, you got too cold after a cold wash in the river outside of camp and didn't warm up the right way— and it would be a thousand times easier in a building with central heating. But at least you're not in a tarp anymore. 

You, Steve and Robin share a real tent. It zippers closed and doesn't have any mesh, so heat brought inside of it doesn't ebb away immediately, like it had in the poorly constructed tarp tent. You pull your second blanket over your body and try to seem casually tired rather than sickbed exhausted as their footsteps return. 

"Hey, killer," Robin says as soon as she sees you, ducking under the tent's opening, a box in her hands. "You're finally awake. Since when do you sleep in?" 

"I'm tired from the girl's trip." 

"That was nearly a week ago," Robin says. 

"And yet you're still reaping the benefits," Steve says to her dryly as he follows her inside of the tent. He gets on his knees and crawls to your side. "Hello," he says, kissing your cheek. "Good morning." 

"Hey." 

He frowns at you. "Why do you sound like that?" 

"What? I just woke up," you say. 

Steve clearly doesn't believe you, and he's right not to. Sick of being a burden on him, you've stopped telling him about your aches and pains, your injuries, your worries. He absolutely hates it but no amount of begging has changed your mind. You're not interested in being his weight to carry. Love, sure, but there's no reason he should be so intrinsically responsible for your wellbeing. Or at least that's how you feel right now.

"Sarah's given Robin a present," he says, his eyes narrowed at you. "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine. What did you get, Robs?" 

Robin slides the lid off of the box eagerly to show you the contents. "It's a baby grow, only Sarah's cut off the arms and legs and sewed the hems. I'm going to put it on Stinkyboy." 

"I thought his name was Shark?" you ask. 

"Or something as stupendously stupid," Steve mutters. He smells like woodsmoke. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look okay." He rubs under your eye with his thumb. "You're all puffy." 

"I don't think you can speak to her like that, Steve," Robin says. 

Her deadpan delivery makes you laugh, and it's a perfect segue to new conversation and away from your unokay-ness. "Are you and Sarah, like… you know?" 

Robin looks at you for a second. "Like what?" 

"Romantic?" you whisper. 

"Oh, no. She's my new Steve, I'm replacing him."

"Can't you replace him with me?" you ask. 

Steve puts his hand on your forehead. "You're warm. You're warm, shithead, are you sick?" 

"No?" You frown as his hand moves to the back of your neck. You're not warm there, you're a furnace. 

"You're actually sick?" he asks, frowning down at you. "What, were you just not gonna say anything?" 

"It's not that bad," you mumble. 

Robin and Steve make simultaneous sounds of disbelief. "You really weren't gonna say anything?" Robin asks. 

They talk so quickly. 

"I don't know for sure if I'm sick, and neither do you guys, don't worry so much." You sit up to get away from Steve's overly cautious hands, black spots behind your eyes and a shooting pain at the back of your head. "Ew," you say, bringing your hand to your eyes, "Maybe I'm sick."

Steve puts his arm behind your shoulders. "Dummy," he says, rubbing your arm. 

"What he said." Robin stands up. "I'm gonna go track down some breakfast for little miss secretive. I'll be back. Don't let her die." 

"I'll try not to," Steve says. 

When Robin's gone, Steve gets nicer. Which isn't to say he's mean when she's around, of course he isn't, but he's polite enough to spare her the full reality of his affection for you, and maybe slightly shy about it. He gathers you into his chest and rubs his cheek against your crown. "You're so warm, honey. I'm not fucking around, you have to tell me when you're not okay." 

"You can't do anything about it, Steve, just a flu." 

"Where would you have caught the flu?" 

"I mean, I must've got it from the cold. It's a cold, that's all it is." 

"You sure?" he asks, his hand snaking under your shirt. He takes an unabashed handful of your stomach. "How do you feel?" 

"I'm fine, Steve." 

It isn't without fondness, but it's said to be simple and straight. Steve tends to catastrophize —why wouldn't he? You can't be cut, you have to be bleeding out. You can't trip, you always fall flat on your face. You have the worst luck in the entire world (or, almost, getting bit would plant you firmly in the worst luck category). And Steve's the one who pays for it, every single time. 

So you assure him as best as you can and describe your symptoms honestly. "My head hurts, and I feel like I'm on fire. My hands and my legs are really hot, but I don't feel sick. It's not food poisoning, and it probably isn't, like, influenza."

"I guessed that much." 

"Oh, did you?" you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him back, and better. Steve gives the best hugs for you, but you know everything that he likes down to the placement of your pinky finger. You do your own skin-searching and slide your hands under his shirt, one palm roving over each bump of his spine to the midway point. His skin is smooth as velvet under your touch here, and noticeably colder. "Stevie," you say, still murmuring as you drag your fingertips down to the base of his back, "I love you. Don't worry, okay? I caught a chill from the river." 

"I do worry," he murmurs back, nuzzling your temple with his scratchy cheek. 

"I know, baby." 

"It's hard to be the one in charge when you speak to me like that," he says. 

"Who says you're in charge?" 

You snuggle like fools until Robin insists you eat your breakfast outside in the cold, which you abhor but your feverish skin appreciates. Steve sits on one side of you and Robin on the other. 

You know Robin likes you, but you think she must really love you, she's so worried. She doesn't say it, but she keeps glancing your way with a pinch between her eyebrows, and she asks you twice if your breakfast, a lukewarm soup she procured from the campfire, is hot enough. You lie each time, 'cos cold soup stopped bothering you a long time ago, and she's a sweetheart for caring. 

Steve suggests a group reading, as in, he grabs a book and usually you'd read, but you're sick, and they both tell you it isn't your turn. Steve reads, practised by now, more confident with each page. He even tries to follow the dialogue tags, whispering and sighing when instructed. 

You start to nod off. There are things you should all be doing, but none of you move. You can't report for washing duty, you can barely stand, and Steve refuses to go without you. Robin's supposed to take baby Ada for two hours. When Robin doesn't show up, one of the other members of the camp appears and makes her take her anyway. 

"You should strike," you say, woozy on Steve's arm. Your fever is getting worse. The cold breeze helps some, but eventually Steve's gonna have to dunk you in the river. 

"I should." She hugs the baby on her chest. "I don't even really like babies. Like, I'd die for her, but kids aren't my thing. At least, they weren't." 

"She's quiet," Steve says. 

"Why don't you hold her, Stevie?" you ask. He loves kids. 

"I'm busy with my own baby." 

You can't decide if it's funny or romantic. You fall asleep against his side and wake a few times throughout the evening, your face in his lap, his hand protective in your hair or against your ear. He wakes you at dusk, kissing a stripe down your cheek. 

"Sorry," he says softly by your ear, "but I can't carry you." 

"You would if you loved me," you tease, your eyes sticky and hard-pressed to open. 

Steve helps you stand and takes more of your weight than necessary as you walk back to your tent. Robin's already inside sans baby Ada, and she has a surprise for you. 

"Tada!" she says. "It's a pillow." 

You rub your eyes with your fist. "Aw," you mumble, disoriented, "yis."

Steve laughs like you're the cutest thing on earth, and he helps you sit down. You're horrified that you actually need him to, almost slipping and smashing your head on the packed dirt ground as your leg buckles under your weight. Now that would've made you sick. 

One fool on your left and another on the right, you rest your aching head on Robin's miraculous pillow and breathe a sigh of relief. 

"Where did you get this?" you ask. 

Robin taps the side of her nose. "Not saying." 

You huff at being out of the know but are ultimately too tired to pioneer for your right to know —you nod off a minute later, and vaguely recollect the sound of the tent zipper. 

Much later, you wake to whispers. 

"He has fleas, Robin," Steve says. 

A weight lands on your legs. "He doesn't anymore! And fleas don't live on people." 

"But they bite. And they have diseases! Stinkyboy can't stay in here." 

"Stinkyboy has just as much right to shelter as you do." 

"No, he doesn't. Not if he's going to give bubonic plague to the love of my life." 

You try to wake up properly. All you manage is a weak sound and a leg twitch. There's a sharp and sudden silence, disrupted only by a thwacking of skin on skin. 

"Did you just hit me?" Robin whispers furiously. 

"No! You tried to hit me, I was defending myself!" 

"You're so done. I'm taking Stinkyboy and Y/N in the divorce." 

"Idiot! Shut up, you'll wake her up. She needs to sleep to get better." 

"You're the idiot, idiot. Isn't that right, Stinky? Isn't Uncle Steve just the worst?" 

After a night of tossing and turning, you finally wake at daybreak. You're confused at first when you can't see Steve, until you realise he's pulled your head into his lap again, stroking the skin before your hairline. It tickles. 

"I still feel awful," you say hoarsely. 

"I don't think you'll recover after just one day," Steve whispers back. Robin sleeps beside you, a blanket wrapped bundle of cat at her feet. 

"You let her let the cat in?" you ask.

"We actually argued about it at length." Steve's fingertips draw a heart over your temple. "She swears that flea ointment stuff worked, but I found a flea on my sock. I'm furious." 

"You sound it." 

"Don't worry. She has to de-flea everything, we made a contract." 

"Well," you say. "It's a big tent." 

It most certainly isn't. If Stinkyboy was as rife with fleas as he was when he first came along Steve would've put his foot down and so would’ve you rather than let him stay, but he only has a few stubborn ones hanging around, and Steve feels really sorry for the poor cat. Imagine how lonely he must have been, he'd said, and then coughed, like sympathy was something to be embarrassed of. 

You feel very sorry for the cat, but you absolutely don't want fleas. You ask Steve to help you go down to the river so you can change your clothes and wash the ones you'd been wearing. You're still too sick to do a good job, but Steve sits half behind you and helps your aching arms scrub the fabric against the makeshift washer (corrugated metal from a shed roof).

Being sick isn't so bad when you have that much love at your back, metaphorically and physically. You lean all of your weight on him and sigh. 

"Love you," you say. 

"Love you," he says back. He holds your wet hands in his. "Now let's go and warm you back up, loser. You're just dying to get hypothermia." 

"It's in season." 

"Funny." 

#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

[ronearoundblindly]

Steve Rogers, number 4, a kiss where it hurts (imagine him making it stop hurting) xxx

*no pairing listed but could work in Fools Rush In, It Had To Be You, Autumn Is Healing, Threadbare, or as a stand alone. While those series do specify female readers, this is written gender neutral. He calls you 'sweetheart' one time.

A Dark Day and A Bright Night, one of my Valentine's Fics of 2024

Warning only for description of a bad mental health time. (I know not everyone experiences this in the same way, but I tried to cover the gist and focus on Steve's comfort of you.) Otherwise, just sweet, caring fluff! WC 1781

There are invisible barriers everywhere, and they stop no one but you.

No one else can hear the muddled whispers of what else you could have done, what more you should have accomplished, how disappointing it is that anything took so long.

You can’t do any better. You can’t go any farther. There’s a line in the sand no one can see. Sometimes, no one can see you.

Nothing matches up. Work fast-forwards around you in chaos while you slog through, treading water with all the energy of someone who has been out at sea alone for days and days. You grow so tired.

There are moments you power through, mind racing to gain lost ground on an endless, looped track. You grow so tired, and it’s never just one thing. It’s water and sand and nothing all at once, vast forces beyond your control.

What else? What more? Why so long?

There are barriers no one else can see, and it’s not their fault because it doesn’t match up. We move through life at different paces. We experience different struggles. We are stopped by different forces.

“How was work?” Steve asks, a chipper smile on his face as he places dinner in front of you.

“Fine.” There are no other words.

“Really? Seems the project is right on schedule, thanks to you.”

You see him pause before he takes his first bite, and rush to pick up your fork, knowing it’s best to participate, knowing the barriers may be invisible but effort is not.

He eats his mouthful, and you stare.

Dinner isn’t a line in the sand, but it feels like one, another interaction you’ll be disappointing in, another fear you can’t explain.

“Not my best work, but it got done,” you manage, mechanically feeding yourself, showing the effort, making a show of the effort. “How was your day?”

It’s a flat question. The response is muddled by water and wind and doubt.

Why can’t you focus? Why can’t you do better for him? Why does he stay?

Steve can’t see any of it. He can’t get to you because there’s no one place you’re trapped in.

You do the dishes. You watch TV. You start your bedtime ritual, and you’ve participated as little—and as much—as possible because treading water is lonely. You grow so tired.

Tomorrow could be better. You can do better tomorrow. It’ll take effort.

Tomorrow you’ll work harder and you’ll be less afraid. But that’s what you thought the last time you were stuck. That’s what you think each time you find a line in the sand.

You stare at your reflection, still treading, still scared, still misaligned.

“Did you hear me?” Steve loosely holds you with his palm on your hip. Standing behind you, face sullen in the mirror, he asks where you’re hurting.

To Steve, there has to be a solution. Each mission must have a goal.

You spit, rinse, and put your toothbrush in the holder.

“Just tired.” That’s the sand he cannot see.

“Seems like more than ‘just tired,’” he huffs, unsatisfied, and turns you toward him. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing you can help with.” That’s the water he cannot navigate.

You’re on your own.

He smirks humorlessly. “That’s never stopped me before.”

But you don’t have the words. All that comes out is “my head.”

“Headache?” He reaches for the medicine cabinet. “You need some—“

You shake your physically fine skull. “No. It’s not a headache.”

Steve’s face…changes in a way you’ve never seen before. You expected confusion, perhaps pity, but this is something all-together reminiscent. His eyes dart around the bathroom like he’s taking inventory, and for the first time today you aren’t the most distracted person in the room.

Then he returns to you.

“I think I’d like a nice bath. Will you join me?”

He sets it all up, using the best smelling bubbles, setting out the softest towels, and inviting you back into the little spa he created by handing you a lovely chocolate.

When you try to refuse because you’ve already brushed your teeth, he replies, “live dangerously,” and pops a bonbon for himself.

Hopefully, it is dark enough for Steve to miss the tears in your eyes.

He lets you settle in the water against him, playing by splashing warmth over the parts not submerged. He kisses your shoulders and neck, the back of your head. Steve keeps himself attached by the lips, breathing you in but feeling so far away. Your mind wanders to nowhere, thinking nothing.

“Feels good—I mean, bett—feels okay, yeah?”

He suds up his hands and washes a bit of you, but your muscles are tight and curled.

You’re tucked into yourself, small as can be.

“Can you try to relax for me, sweetheart? Can you let yourself float?”

The tub works for a guy Steve’s size. There’s a little space but not enough to stretch out completely.

The tension in your body is slow to release. You manage to let your arms, knees, and feet peak through the bubble clouds.

Steve nudges, “and your neck?”

You didn’t realize you were holding it up.

There is infinite space to lay flat in your endless sea. Floating offers a respite, a view of the sky, the same sky blanketing your beach.

Invisible barriers at least spare the scenery.

You and Steve watch the fragrant foam burst for a while. It takes you much longer to truly relax back into Steve. The quiet of the bath drowns you with the noise in your head.

What else? What more? Why so slow?

It’s never just one thing. It is all things, all at once, and nothing at all. All of the elements to survival and understanding are there if you just focus your attention, if you just put in the effort, but you are so tired.

Steve wraps you in his arms to press you deeper into his chest.

“Sometimes my ma would burn dinner,” he starts quietly, voice rough from holding back all his questions you can’t answer, “and we would scramble around, combing the cupboards. We’d make the oddest meals out of bits and bobs. Maybe half of it, we should’a never touched, but we did what we had to. Ya know what? Those were some of the best times. We did the best we could with what we had—sometimes less—and that’s what made her so amazing. On what she probably considered her worst days,” Steve kisses behind your ear, “I admired her the most. Formed some of the best memories.”

“Let me guess. Because she smiled the whole way through?”

“Nah,” he muses, chuckling enough to shake you in the water, “she threw a pan once. Loosened the door of the stove she slammed it shut so hard. She cried usually until we were sat down eating. Always tried to give me the most food because I was so small… 

“I made it a game. I only took a bite if she did. Win-win.” 

He stays quiet for a beat, assured you’re hearing him.

“You’re not ruining anything by crying,” he says solidly, almost loud in the confines of the bathroom. “Good things can still happen. You still did good today.”

He continues. He details little things he admires about you; how hard you work for yourself, for him, he notices all that. He wants you to see what he sees.

There’s no barrier stopping him.

The water turns tepid, and Steve gets out first to ready a towel for you. There’s a difference between him treating you like a china doll and his doll. His doll is not breakable. He isn’t gentle because you are fragile; he does it to preserve you for the next day, and the next. Steve refuses to place any more burden on you than already falls.

He’s right there, strong, noble, and determined with forces working against him.

He’s scared and he doesn’t understand. He can’t fight. He has to scramble to catch up, to change plans, to make a meal out of nothing, to turn nothing into something. He doesn’t understand why he’s in a different sea, or why he can’t get to you standing on the same damn beach. His hand is right there on the barrier, but his shouts are muddled.

It’s not fair, and it never will be.

He physically lifts you up, wrapped in a plush bath sheet, his hug strong enough to thump against that clear wall that springs from your line in the sand.

That’s when you realize the barrier isn’t impenetrable. You can still see the scenery. You can still hear muddled sounds.

Some of his voice gets through. Sunlight and warmth get through. The water still buoys you up.

If there are directions to go, there are paths to take.

If there are ways in, there are ways out. 

There are invisible barriers everywhere, but they don’t stop Steve from being there for you.

One more chocolate. One more brush of your teeth. You trade the fluffy wrap of a towel with the cozy wrap of a t-shirt, and he makes sure you’re comfortable.

A simple goodnight kiss alone might tip you over into exhausted euphoria, but Steve is not that kind of simple.

He props himself up on an elbow and rolls you onto your back.

Kissing your right temple, he whispers, “I love you.” Kissing your left temple, he confesses, “I love your voice,” the peak of your forehead, “I love your spirit,” between your eyebrows, just above one ear, and the other.

“Miss you when I’m not here. Miss you when you’re not here. I miss you even in my dreams.”

Then, and only then, do you get that simple kiss goodnight. His soft lips melding to yours for a long, soothing moment before you two drift off to sleep.

When you dream of a beach and an ocean and nothing at all, you miss him, too. You remember his presence, and the truth becomes as clear as the sky above.

There are pieces of you to love. You are a loved thing. You are light and heat and sound that can get through, even when misaligned, even when you don’t match up, even when not in the same sea.

Steve’s love is invisible, but you know it’s there. It’s not a limit to fear. It’s not a barrier to turn away from. His love is not an obstacle you want to get past.

Not every invisible force is bad.

Sometimes, barriers slow you down, let you listen, make you rest, and help you float.

There are barriers everywhere, but nothing between you and Steve.

Ransom Drysdale and a kiss out of spite ⬅️ ➡️ Ari Levinson and a kiss out of envy

A/N: oof. *walks away crying* I'm fine. It's fine.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza  @claireelizabeth85 @jamneuromain @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @trudy-shams @saranghaey @awkwardgiraffe726 @rach2602 @royalwritersoftheuniverses @rogersbarber

#steve rogers fanfiction #ro answers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #fools rush in #it had to be you #autumn is healing #threadbare #gn!reader #steve rogers x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral insert

[youre-a-total--poser]

Need Her Back (Request)

Warnings: slight mention of blood loss to do a shooting and coma. Anymore let me know. Age: 12 Word Count: 2,956 Requests: Closed Summary: Read the request and it will explain everything Requested by: Wattpad user Date: 09/12/2023 paring: Natasha and Bucky (Eventually) A/N: Thank you for your request I hope that you like it. ---⧗---

Masterlist

James Barnes wanted nothing more than to forget his past but, unfortunately, there were two constant reminders of it.

During his time as a HYDRA soldier, he had a thing with one of the Widows at the Red Room and that widow was Natalia Alianovna Romanova.

To them, they made plans to escape and have a life together but reality wasn't like that. One thing led to another then Natalia at 16 years old, days before she was meant to go through the Red Room's graduation ceremony ended up pregnant and James never came back for her.

Nine months later Natalia gave birth to a healthy baby girl and named her Y/N. When Natalia saw her baby for the first time she knew that she had to do whatever it took to protect her and that's what she did.

It took Natalia a few years to plan and organise the perfect escape plan and thankfully it worked. Getting out of the Red Room was her main goal she didn't exactly think about what was next.

Being out in the harsh Russian winter with a toddler wasn't ideal but it was the better option.

Thankfully the young mother and her child only had to deal with the cold weather for a few days since a SHEILD agent who was sent to kill the widow made a different call and let her live most likely because he saw the young girl and he didn't want to take her mother away from her. He had a child the same age and would hate it if he lost his mother or father.

---⧗---

Months passed and Natalia got a job working with SHEILD, thanks to the man who saved her and her child otherwise known as Clint Barton, as one of their agents. She even changed her identity as a way of taking control of her life for the first time ever. She now goes by Natasha Romanoff.

When Natasha went away on missions you stayed with Clint's wife Laura and their son Cooper then after the Avengers Initiative was formed and the Stark Tower was changed to the Avengers Tower you stayed there if there was someone available to babysit you.

As the years went by Natasha was glad that she got to watch you grow in a safe place and nothing bad would happen to you she wanted nothing to change but it did something or someone changed everything.

---⧗---

Natasha had just gotten back from a long mission and you and her were sitting on the couch giggling about what you got up to when she was away when suddenly Steve and a strange man walked in.

When Natasha saw who was with Steve she stood up quickly and stared at the man in disbelief. You had never seen this man in your life but going by your mom's reaction she did.

"James?" Natasha asked confused about how the man who she thought was dead if now alive and a few feet in front of her.

When Bucky looked at Natasha in that quick second all the memories came back to him. He wanted to say so much to her but most importantly apologise for leaving her but he didn't know what to say

"Hello, Natalia." was all that he managed to say.

Natasha couldn't believe that after all those years that's all he could say to her but before she could respond she felt a touch on her arm.

"Mama?" You said looking up at your mom and then over at the man.

Bucky managed to get a good look at you and there was something familiar about you that he couldn't quite work out.

"Who's this?" Bucky asked taking a step closer to you and Natasha.

"My daughter." She replied giving you a smile and stroking your hair.

"What," Bucky mumbled to himself suddenly realising why you looked so familiar.

There was a picture of Natasha when she was younger in her file back in the Red Room that Bucky saw and the young girl standing a few feet away from him is the spitting image except that back then Natasha had short blue hair whereas you had long brown hair with a tint of orange.

Natasha placed her hands on your arms. "I need you to stay in your room for a little while okay." She moved you around slightly so you had your back towards Steve and the man then she put her hand on your back to lead you out of the room.

As you and Natasha were walking away Bucky quickly did the maths in his head. He knew that by the age of 16, the widows in the Red Room got sterilised so they couldn't have kids and it would have been 12 years since he last saw Natasha meaning that for the child to be Natasha's biological child you would have to be 12 years old.

"Wait how old are you?" Bucky called out.

"Don't answer him," Natasha said to you trying to hurry you out of the room.

"How old are you kid?" Bucky shouted.

You turned around to Bucky and shouted back "12. Now what is going on?"

"She's 12?" Bucky asked looking over at Natasha for clarification.

Natasha didn't respond but she did have a look on her face that she knew something everyone else didn't.

"Is this my daughter?" Bucky asked.

"No, my dad was a soldier he abandoned us before I was born then he died." You turned around to face your mom "That's what you told me."

"Is this my daughter?" Bucky asked again.

Natasha tucked your hair behind your ears and gently cupped your face. "Yes." She said quietly.

You turned your head to see what Bucky's reaction would be and it definitely wasn't what you were expecting he looked disappointed like he hoped the answer to his question would have been no he's not the father.

"I'm sorry I… I can't. I… just can't." He said then practically ran out of the room then Steve followed after him.

You looked up at your mom but she didn't say anything she just put her arms around you and hugged you tightly.

---⧗---

Natasha tried to get Bucky to spend time with you but every time he refused. It got to the point where whenever you walked into a room and Bucky was there he would leave to avoid having to talk to you. You then eventually stopped trying and convinced yourself that it was something that you did that caused him to want nothing to do with you.

Later that night Natasha told you that she had to go on a mission and like always you tried to stop her from going but deep down you knew that's not how it worked and she needed to go.

Nearly two weeks went by and you were getting worried. It wasn't a new thing for Natasha to be gone for weeks even months at a time but this time it was different she hadn't called to say that she was okay not even once.

It was nearly the end of week three and still nothing. The whole time you were waiting in the hangar for the QuinJet to land or your phone to ring but none of them were happening.

Just as you were about to give up and call it a night you heard the QuinJet land. You stood up and waited for your mom to walk through the doors but instead, at least four SHEILD agents were rushing into the room pushing a gurney. You couldn't make out who was lying on it till you got a glimpse of the red hair.

You couldn't be entirely sure that it was your mom that was until you reached the med bay and everyone was standing for you and that's how you knew for sure that it was your mom.

The agents pushed the gurney through a set of doors and as you went to follow them a pair of arms wrapped around you preventing you from following. No amount of squirming did any good the person who was holding you was much too strong for you to get out of their grip.

You waited and waited and paced back in forward waiting to hear any news about your mom. The wait time was so long that you ended up falling asleep on the chairs.

You got woken up by the sound of someone softly saying your name and gently shaking you.

When you opened your eyes Clint was kneeling in front of you.

"Your mom's out of surgery," Clint said.

You stood up and you followed him into the recovery room he stopped you at the door and put his hands on your shoulders.

"Listen, Y/N, before you go in there I want you to know that your mom has a tube in her throat. It might look a bit scary but it's just there to help her breathe. Okay?"

You nodded your head and Clint opened the door for you. When you walked inside the room Natasha was lying on the bed unconscious and like Clint said there was the tube in her mouth but also there were a lot of other wires attached to her. Some on her chest, some on her arm and even on her finger.

You walked over closer to her and you went to touch her but you instantly pulled your hand away.

"What happened to her?" You asked. The tears forming in your eyes.

"Let me explain." Her doctor said walking over. "During the mission, your mom got shot and due to the blood loss, she's now in a coma. Obviously, there's a lot more to it but I won't go into details."

"When will she wake up?" You asked.

"Well, we don't know for now we just have to wait for her to wake up on her own."

You placed your hand on your mom's arm on a spot that wasn't covered in wires and you started to shake her arm.

"Mama please wake up. Please mama wake up right now." You said as the tears streamed down your face. "Mama, wake up I need you. Please don't leave me alone." At this point, you were practically screaming.

The other Avengers heard you and ran inside to see what was happening.

Steve then wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you away from the bed just in case you accidentally hurt Natasha or caused a wire to fall out.

"Let me go." You screamed squirming about hoping that Steve would release you. When he let you go you ran out of the recovery room and straight to your mom's bedroom.

---⧗--- After that moment you completely shut down and spend most of your either in the recovery room by your mom's side or in her bedroom.

You even stopped speaking to nearly everyone and you had stopped doing basic things like taking showers, brushing your teeth and even eating. The only person who could really get through to you was Steve. He's been a father figure to you the whole time you've known him but not even he could make it all better.

No matter how hard everyone tried no one could get through to you. Nothing that they said or did cheered you up and they couldn't wake up the one person who would make you happy and become that happy carefree little girl that they all missed deeply.

There was only one other person who hadn't tried to cheer you up and that was Bucky. It took a lot of convincing but Steve managed to get him to go talk to you.

Bucky made his way to the May Bay and looked through the window into the recovery room where Natasha was when he saw that it was empty he walked inside the room.

He sat down on the chair beside her bed and gently took her hand. "I'm so sorry Natalia. I never should have left you in that place. If I knew that you were pregnant I would have come back for you and helped to raise the baby but honestly, I.." He got cut off by the door opening and you walking into the room.

"Sorry." You mumbled looking down at the ground.

Bucky sighed slightly and stood up "Look, I know that you probably don't want to hear this but just because your mom is in a coma doesn't mean that you should shut down completely she would want you to carry on with life."

You didn't say anything you just kept looking down at the ground.

Bucky walked over to you and put his hand on your shoulder. "Don't forget no matter what your mom will always love you and you need to continue to make her proud every day.

You didn't expect those words to be your breaking point but before you knew tears started falling down your face. "I miss my mom I just want her to come back."

When Bucky saw you crying even though it probably would have made both you and him uncomfortable he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. You didn't know that a hug from your father was one of the things that you were craving badly but as soon as he hugged you it caused you to cry harder.

After a few minutes of nonstop crying you finally settled down but Bucky kept hugging you. He knew that you needed this more than anything. Then suddenly you heard a voice.

"Finally." The voice said.

You looked over and saw that your mom had her eyes open and she was looking over at you and Bucky and she was smiling.

"Mama!" you gasped rushing over to her and hugging her very gently.

"I guess someone has missed me." she chuckled wrapping her arm around you.

"So much."

Bucky started to feel like he'd overstayed his welcome and turned around making his way to the door and he sneaked out of the room without anyone noticing.

---⧗---

It only took a couple of days then Natasha was up and back on her feet again.

She wanted to jump straight back into work and training but everyone had to keep reminding her that she was still recovering and that she had to take it easy.

She went round thanking everyone for taking care of her daughter but there was still one person that she had to speak to.

Bucky was in the kitchen making coffee and thankfully that was the first place that Natasha tried.

"I'm making coffee do you want one?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah, thanks," Natasha responded.

He got a cup poured the coffee and handed it to her. He gave her a slight smile picked up his coffee and walked off.

"James wait," she said.

He stopped and turned around to look at her.

"I heard what you said to me when I was in the coma and I forgive you."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise as he processed Natasha's words. He set his coffee down on the counter and walked back towards her, his expression a mix of hope and relief.

"Natalia, I… I didn't expect you to forgive me so easily," Bucky admitted.

"You wouldn't have left if there wasn't a reasonable explanation I know that now and especially if you had known about the baby."

Bucky's voice trembled as he spoke, his eyes filled with pain. "they threatened to kill you if I didn't leave. I didn't have any other choice. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

Natasha reached out and took his hand in hers. "You're never going to lose me."

Suddenly Bucky did something that Natasha wasn't expecting.

He moved in closer to her, placed his hand on her cheek and kissed her.

Natasha was surprised at first but she didn't move or push him away instead she kissed him back.

Bucky then pulled away when he realised what he had just done. "I'm so sorry," he said looking embarrassed he was certain that Natasha didn't have those feelings for him anymore.

Natasha just chuckled and shook her head. "Don't be sorry." She put her hand on the back of his head and pushed him in close to her then kissed him again.

You then walked into the kitchen and saw them both kissing and they quickly pulled away from each other when they heard footsteps approaching

"That's so gross people eat in here you both know?" you said looking disgusted at them.

Natasha chuckled at your comment and walked over to you. "I'm sorry baby." then she hugged you. "It won't happen again."

"So are you two together now?" You asked looking up at your mother and then over at your father.

Natasha and Bucky exchanged a glance before Natasha replied, "Well we don't know yet sweetheart but you'll be the first to know. Okay?"

You nodded your head at your mom's response and didn't bring it up again till they came to you about it.

After weeks of waiting to hear a response from their parents, they finally came to you and told you that they had made the decision that they were going to get back together.

You couldn't believe it when they told you. You wanted to know your father so badly and now he was here in your life and even better back with your mom.

Now that Bucky was in life you finally got the chance to spend time with him and tell him everything about yourself something that you wanted from the moment that you found out he was your father.

#natasha romanoff #mama nat #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha's kid #natasha x child reader #natasha romanoff x child #natasha romanoff x child reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x child!reader #winterwidow #natasha and bucky

[bewarethegrim]

Punk Steve but it's my random thoughts and it goes real off topic real fast:

After Nancy breaks up with him, Steve feels lost and untethered. He ends up in a shitty dive bar where a band called "Bad Brains" is playing. In that moment Steve falls in love with the punk scene.

No one there looked like they were trying to fit in, even with each other. The music was fast, loud and angry. He fucking loved it.

It started with a leather jacket. He found it at a thrift store, tired of the polos and khakis. On impulse, he grabs some paint and spikes from a craft store nearby.

He paints two spiked baseball bats on the back, crossing in an X.

One night, bored, he grabs a pair of scissors and cuts his hair. His hair was such a symbol of who he was, who he didn't want to me anymore. He cut the sides down and then shaved them with his razor. He kept the rest long, but he used his Farah Fawcett spray to make it messy instead of perfect.

A lip ring, a nose ring, and eyebrow piercing and rows of ear piercings follow. The only thing he doesn't get are any tattoos.

Billy Hargrove watches these changes from the side with a critical eye, convinced Steve is a poser. It's not until Billy runs into Steve at the Dive bar where Steve first heard Punk that Billy realises that maybe he was wrong. Steve seems to know everyone there, and they all seem to welcome him happily.

Billy tries to awkwardly apologise for beating the shit outta him a few months back, but Steve shrugs him off. He says "I get how it looked, and I can take a beating. But what you did and said to Lucas? That was fucked up."

And Billy wants to curl up in shame. Under all the spikes Steve has the most disappointed mom look.

And Billy knows that Steves right. His anger at Lucas was misplaced with his anger with his dad and his situation.

So Billy stalks up the Lucas at the arcade one day, and stares him down, noting with admiration when the younger boy doesn't back down.

"I'm sorry about that night." He says, stilted. "There are enough racist assholes in Hawkins, my old man included. Shouldn't have to deal with general assholes, too. Just don't let him catch wind of you and Maxine, got it?"

And Lucas looks shocked. But he nods and walks back to his anxious looking group of nerds.

After that, Steve actually approaches Billy. He asks for music recommendations at first, mostly. But that turns into asking if he wanted to come to shows, and just hanging out.

Eventually, Steve meets Robin at Scoops. His piercings are all out now, and his hair is growing out (at his parents insistence.) But he still wears his spiked jacket over his stupid scoops uniform with his black doc martens.

And Billy isn't jealous. He tells Heather that every time she claims he's "sulking" when Steve shows up with his pack of nerds at the pool, Robin often in tow now, too.

And when Billy hits something in the road, his gut instinct is to call Steve. And Steve doesn't laugh like he thought he would, he tells Billy to get back in the car and drive . And Billy listens. He gets his ass back in the slightly busted Camaro and speeds to the Harrington house where he promptly breaks the fuck down because what the fuck did he just see?

And Steve explains it all to him (Billy understands the nail bat now). And just like that Billy is apart of the Hawkins defense squad.

After the mindflayer (his dad is killed in the process, Billy counts that as a major win) he moves into the trailer park, Susan and Max living next door. That Munson kid lives across the road, and so Steve comes to his place more because he has better access to weed and other drugs.

Steve finds it hilarious when Munson introduces himself to Steve. Steve who's piercings are back in, hair recut and dyed bright red in some spots, and eyes lined with black eyeliner from his mom's vanity.

One night, when happily stoned, laying half naked on top of each other, Steve tracing Billy's skull tattoo, he asks Billy to tattoo him.

With the help of Eddie's machine, Steve's first tattoo says pretty boy in a banner underneath a spiked crown. Billy chose it, obviously.

Steve loves it.

#punk steve harrington #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #punk steve au #I lost the plot somewhere along the way #punk steve written by a punk #I love projecting onto steve <3

[hbyrde36]

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 7

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 ao3 link

*Eddie*

Eddie was at a loss. He could do nothing but watch as his uncle took in the scene in front of him for a moment, before finally stepping fully into the trailer and closing the door behind him.

“You’re the Harrington boy, aren’t you?” Wayne asked, giving Steve a once over where he sat next to Eddie. 

“Uh. Yes, sir.” Steve stood up and approached him, offering what looked like a well-practiced handshake.

“No sir’s here, kid. Call me Wayne.”

“Okay, Wayne then. I’m Steve.”

Wayne snorted. “Yea, I sorta figured. How in the...”

The older man trailed off when he finally turned his attention away from Steve, and noticed the girl. As his eyes roamed over her buzzed head and bloodied clothes, he sucked in a sharp breath and went white as a sheet. Eddie knew she was a sight, they may have cleaned her face but she hadn’t been awake long enough to get her into any other clothes.

Wayne recovered quickly, eyes snapping back to Steve with a heavy look that Eddie didn’t understand.

“Does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on? Cause I'm kind of freaking out here.” Eddie blurted out. 

Steve glanced at him, all sad eyes and a sympathetic smile. Somehow it didn’t make him feel any better. The other boy opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by Wayne.

“Ed, why don’t you take the young lady to your room and get her some clean clothes, while I have a word with Harrington here.”

Steve tensed beside him, and regardless of his own growing unease, Eddie was quick to jump to his defense. “You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to, Steve.”

“No...it’s okay. You go ahead, we’ll be fine.”

Eddie clenched his jaw, he didn’t like this one bit. Everyone was acting so weird. Wayne hadn’t even asked why Steve was here, or how! He had expected quite a different reaction from his uncle to the boy’s sudden reappearance. He did feel bad for leaving the girl in her dirty clothes though, so he reluctantly agreed and led her back down the hall. After she changed he would start demanding answers. 

When they arrived at his room the girl took Eddie’s hand, looking up at him with eyes far too serious for someone so young. “Do not worry, everything is going to be okay.”

He gaped at her, not understanding why she would say such a thing to him, when she and Steve were the ones on the run, but he knew with absolute certainty that she meant it. He swallowed hard, nodding dumbly before remembering why they were there in the first place, and started searching through his dresser drawers for something that would fit her. 

He managed to dig up an old Hawkins High gym class t-shirt and shorts set that looked like it would do the job nicely. Any of his shirts would have probably fit her okay enough, but his pants would all be too big and too long. He handed her the bundle of fabric and went right back out the door so she could have some privacy.

Standing in the hall, he couldn’t help overhearing his uncle speaking in hushed tones. There was no answering voice, so he must have been on the phone. Did that mean he was done questioning Steve already?

“I swear on my life, Hop. He’s standing here in my kitchen, I’m looking at him right now.”

Oh fuck. Eddie had promised Steve would be safe here, and within five minutes of being home Wayne had already called the cops. He couldn’t believe it. He raced down the hall, ready to scream at his uncle for betraying them, and to get Steve and the girl out of here if he needed to, but Wayne's next words brought him to a screeching halt.

“No, I already called Claudia, she's on her way now to help me tell him.”

Tell who what? What did his aunt have to do with anything?

Eddie came around the corner just as his uncle hung up the phone. Steve was standing right next to him. 

“What’s going on?” He demanded.

A look passed between the two other men and Eddie growled in frustration. He was getting the distinct feeling that everyone in this house knew something he didn’t, and his initial confusion was quickly giving way to anger. 

“No! No more of that. Somebody needs to start talking soon or I'm gonna lose it. I heard you just now, Wayne, it’s a small trailer. Why did you call Hopper? And why is Claudia coming over?”

“Maybe we should all go have a seat and..” Wayne began, but Eddie cut him off.

“I don’t want to sit down!”

“Okay, okay.” Steve said, placatingly. “Your uncle has a lot he wants to tell you and he needs help to do that. I said it was alright, that I didn’t mind your aunt or the Chief knowing I was here.”

“Why?” Eddie asked. He hadn’t even been around Steve for a full day yet, but this was a complete 180 from the way the boy had been before, worried about anyone other than Eddie seeing them. Something had changed, he just didn’t understand what.

“Earlier, you asked me some questions. You wanted to know my sister’s name. It’s Eleven. Her name is Eleven, El for short.”

Eddie burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. It was a bit of an odd time for a prank but that’s what this had to be, right? 

“Good one, Harrington. What, did you find my campaign notes or something?”

“Campaign notes?” Steve looked genuinely puzzled.

Eddie rolled his eyes, he wasn’t in the mood for this. “You can drop the act now, you’re not fooling anyone. It’s the game I told you about earlier, with the monster from that drawing? Clearly you found one of my old notebooks, read about the character I created named Eleven, a girl with superpowers and a buzzcut who escaped from Hawkins lab, and decided to have a little fun with it.”

Steve blinked at him, as if he had no idea what Eddie meant. He was too good at this, Eddie thought, he really needed the guy to break soon, because this was becoming less and less funny by the second.

“But, I am Eleven, Eddie. This is not a game.”

He startled at the sound of the girl's soft voice appearing behind him. 

“It’s not possible.” Eddie insisted, spinning around to face her.

She stepped up close to him and turned her arm over, revealing a small tattoo on the inside of her wrist. “Look.” 

Eddie stared down at the number etched there, it looked exactly as he’d pictured it in his head. He narrowed his eyes as he licked his thumb, rubbing it over the mark to try and smear what he assumed, what he hoped, was drawn on with a pen or marker. It didn’t budge.

“It’s not possible!” Eddie repeated, shouting. His knees trembled and he felt a little faint. Steve must have noticed and came to his rescue. He didn’t argue this time when the other boy helped him back over to the living room and sat him on the couch. 

Wayne followed, taking a seat on the nearby recliner. The girl, who he still refused to call Eleven even inside his own head, sat next to him on one side, Steve on the other. They were both looking at him with such concern, that if he didn’t think he was actively going crazy he would have felt guilty about it. 

Steve clasped him on the shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Eddie, no matter what happens today, I just want you to know I’m here for you. You didn’t hesitate to offer us help when we turned up bloody in the middle of the woods. I’ll never forget that, and I'll be here for whatever you need to get through this. We both will.” 

“I don’t understand.” Eddie murmured.

Steve gave him another sad smile, a look he was starting to hate seeing on the other boy's face.

“Eleven really did escape from Hawkins lab. It was back in 1983, and I found her wandering in the woods while the whole town was out searching for Will Byers. I hid her for a while, but after a few months we got caught. I couldn’t let them drag her back to that place alone, so I made them take me too. That’s where we’ve been all this time.”

Eddie stared at him, unblinking. “You’re serious aren’t you? This isn’t a joke?”

Steve nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie didn’t know what to make of any of it, he had more questions than ever, and the implications, if all of this was true, were mind-blowing. He didn’t get long to think of what to ask first, because his aunt and Dustin arrived minutes later in a flurry of chaos.

The sun had only just risen as Dustin entered the trailer still wearing his pajamas and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Claudia was trailing close behind. He yawned loudly amidst grumbling about why the hell he had to get up so early when school didn’t start for another two hours, but stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the two people sitting with Eddie. The kid’s jaw dropped. 

“Is that? Oh my god, are you Steve Harrington?!” Dustin shrieked, before launching into a rambling mess of questions, all the while leaving no space for anyone to answer him.

 “Wherehaveyoubeen? DidEddiefindyou? Howdidhefindyou? Whatsgoingon? Who’sthegirl?”

Wayne quietly approached the young boy from behind and threw a hand over his mouth, silencing him. 

Dustin glared. 

Eleven giggled.

“You, sit.” Wayne told the kid, pointing at a spot on the floor in front of Eddie. Dustin pouted but did what he was told, and, miracle of miracles, kept his mouth shut. 

Claudia took over Wayne's seat on the armchair, while he moved a stool in from the kitchen and placed it next to her for himself.

“Ed, I know it’s been a rough day already,” Wayne began, “but your Aunt and I need to tell you something. Before we do, I need you to know that you’ve been my boy since the moment you walked through that door, and absolutely nothing and no one is ever going to change that. You hear me?”

Eddie bit his lip. “It sounds like you’re about to tell me I'm adopted or something.” He tried to laugh it off, but it fell flat. 

“It’s a little more.. complicated than that.” His uncle said.

“What are you saying? Are you not really my Uncle? What…did you find me on the side of the road or something?” Eddie hated the way his voice shook as he asked, but he couldn't help it. 

“I did, actually, sweetie. I found you.” Claudia admitted.

El slipped her small hand into Eddie’s again, her attempt to offer him comfort, he knew. He tried to smile down at her in thanks, but it was a weak thing.

“About eight years ago,” his aunt continued, “I was hired through a temp agency to fill in for a girl on maternity leave at Hawkins lab. I was posted at the front desk, and wasn’t allowed anywhere past the first floor. I never really thought about why I would be restricted, or even what sort of work they were doing there. I just answered phones, made sure the men coming and going signed in or out, stuff like that. It was an easy job, Dusty was still so little, and we needed the money after his father…” 

Claudia trailed off, looking into space for a moment, clearly struggling with the painful memory of losing her late husband. She wiped lightly at her eyes before continuing. 

“Anyway, one day, and I remember it must have been near lunchtime because the ground floor was practically deserted, this loud alarm started to go off. A man, some sort of security guard or something, told me the building was about to go into lockdown, and if I didn't get out quickly I'd be stuck in the building until the situation had passed. He didn’t stick around to see if I listened, just ran off towards the main set of elevators. The emergency exit was closer to my desk than the main entrance, so I ran for that. I couldn’t risk getting locked in and not be able to pick up Dustin from daycare. I was almost to the door when the service elevator opened up, and there stood this little boy with the biggest brown eyes I'd ever seen.” 

Steve took Eddie’s other hand and squeezed. He almost didn’t feel it, he was going numb with shock. Why were they doing this to him? It was all too much. It couldn’t be true.

His aunt paused, smiling to herself a little, and looked Eddie full in the face. He stared back at her, frozen and wide-eyed. “Your hair was buzzed and, gosh, you were so skinny, standing there in nothing but a hospital gown and socks. I didn’t even think about it, I grabbed your hand and pulled you right out that door with me before we could get locked in. We made it to my car, I got you into the passenger seat and you turned to me full of tears and said ‘They’re all dead’.”

Eleven sniffled and he felt Steve reach over behind him with his other arm to comfort her. Eddie was too frozen to do anything but keep hold of her hand. It was all he could manage to do as his entire life, as he knew it, crumbled in front of him.

“I don’t know what came over me that day, I knew something wasn’t right about the whole thing and so I took you home. You didn’t talk much at first. You didn’t know your name, or maybe you didn’t have one. Your only identifying mark was a small tattoo on the inside of your wrist of...”

“Stop.” Eddie choked out. He couldn’t let her say the number, it would make it all too real. He was Eddie Munson, nothing more. No matter what anyone said.  “I don’t want to know.” 

Dustin, seeming to have lost his patience, finally spoke up. He sounded furious. “Okay, I don’t know why you’re doing this, mom, but it isn’t funny anymore!”

“Hush.” Wayne warned.

“Please, just let me finish.” She pleaded, continuing on when no one said a word. “I didn’t know how I would be able to hide you, everyone knew I only had one child and it was difficult enough having him on my own. I called the only person I knew I could trust. Wayne and I actually are distant cousins, and we’ve been best friends all our lives. He agreed to take you in, and even came up with a convincing backstory to explain your sudden presence.” 

Wayne cleared his throat. “My older brother dropped out of school and moved away as a teenager. He got into a bad crowd and wound up in jail more than once, so It was no stretch to believe he’d gotten some poor girl knocked-up somewhere in the mix. I told people you were his, that you’d come to live with me because he was locked up and no one knew where your mom was. We figured out pretty quickly that you were special. You knew things, before we could even tell you. The first time you saw Dusty you called him by name. You knew things about my brother, the man we pretended was your father. You even pointed him out in a photograph all on your own, like you already knew what he looked like.” 

Eddie managed to break out of his stupor long enough to interrupt. “Hold on, why don’t I remember any of this? I would have been what, 9, 10 years old?”

“Honey, you were so traumatized.” Claudia said. “You couldn’t tell us anything about where you’d come from before winding up in that lab. We explained the cover story to you and I think after a while your brain tricked itself into thinking it was true, and started filling in the gaps. You would tell these stories about things you remembered from your childhood. We knew it had to be stuff you read about in books or saw on tv, but you were so happy and we just didn’t have the heart to question it or correct you. What good would it have done? If that was how you needed to cope, then who were we to stop it.”

Eddie stared down at the scar on his wrist. He’d gotten it falling off his bike, he knew that. He remembered doing it…didn’t he?

“You did that in your sleep one night.” Wayne said, softly. “It looked like you just scratched and scratched until you had removed a layer of skin. It bled like a son of a bitch, I know it had to hurt but you never complained and you never did anything like it again so I let it go. I think somewhere in the back of your mind you knew it wasn’t safe to walk around marked like that.”

“But…I…I thought we made all of it up?” Dustin breathed.

“Yea, buddy. So did I.” Eddie pulled his hands out of Steve and El’s grasps and tugged roughly at his hair, rocking back and forth in place. A sound spilled over his lips, a laugh that cracked and ended in a sob. He jumped up out of his seat abruptly and ran for the door. “I need some air.”

Eddie flew out of the trailer and down the steps, making a beeline for the trees. He didn’t look back to see if anyone had followed him out. There was a spot, not too deep in the woods, where he liked to go sometimes. He dragged an old picnic table out there a few years ago and he came out there often to smoke or just hang out during the day when Wayne was trying to sleep before work.

He stumbled into the clearing, breath coming in gasps and chest heaving. His vision swam and he fell to the ground hard on his knees. A hand landed on his back and Eddie didn’t even have the capacity to jump in surprise. Someone was there, talking to him in low soothing tones, encouraging him to take deep, slow breaths, in and out. He tried to concentrate on the voice, and not the overwhelming noise in his head. Slowly, he let his whole world narrow down to just the small space where he knelt. He let himself feel the hand that was on him, reassuring him, steadying him. It was warm, much more so than the cool early morning air that stirred around them. He listened to the voice and sank into it, willing his heartbeat to slow to a normal level, or at least a little less frantic than a trapped animal.

“That’s it Eddie, you’re okay, you’re doing so well.”

It was Steve, he realized. Had sort of known it the whole time, even if he refused to process it at first. 

“You shouldn’t be out here.” Eddie managed to croak out. His throat was tight, still thick with the panic that was slowly dissipating. 

“It’s early, I doubt many of your neighbor’s are awake yet.”

Steve helped him up, and Eddie let him. They sat together, side by side on the table’s bench, staring out at the trees in silence. 

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Eddie said finally, after a period of time that felt both like hours and just a few minutes.

“Yea, there’s a lot more I think I need to tell you, things that need…figuring out, but it can wait. You’ve had enough revelations for today.”

“Why did you ask me about the picture Will drew?” Eddie didn’t really want to ask, he was afraid he already knew the answer, but he had to know. He'd been wondering about it ever since Steve woke up.

“The uh demidogs..”

“Demodogs” Eddie corrected, mostly out of habit.

“Right, demodogs. They’re real. I’ve fought them.”

“Bullshit.” Eddie said, though there was no oomph behind the word. It was the answer he’d expected after all, he just didn’t want to believe it.

Steve twisted so his back was facing Eddie. He grabbed a handful of his borrowed shirt and pulled it up over his head in one smooth motion. Eddie gasped. He wasn’t too far gone to realize that Steve Harrington was stripping half naked in front of him, but that wasn’t what made him react. Running the length of Steve’s back, from the top of his shoulder blades to the dip above his waistband were 4 deep claw marks. They were healed, though not that old. It was a hell of a scar. 

Eddie reached out without thinking, stopping short before his fingers could graze the other boy's skin, but Steve must have felt the heat of his proximity.

“It’s okay, if you want to touch. They don’t hurt anymore.”

He lightly ran a finger down one of the marks. He’d been right about the wounds being deep. The skin was puckered, indented in some areas where the stitches hadn’t been tight enough, or had been pulled before Steve was fully healed. 

Eddie gulped. “What happened?”

“El was trying to close a gate in the lower level of the lab.” Steve started.

“It was swarming with dogs, and you protected her?” Eddie guessed.

“Yes.” Steve confirmed. He didn’t seem surprised that Eddie had known. “Did that happen in your game too?”

“I imagine most of the story went a lot different than in reality, but it sounds like the final showdown was about the same, except it was someone else protecting her.”

Steve nodded, like he got it, as if any of this insane shit made sense. He pulled the shirt back over his head and turned to face him again.

“What else?” Eddie asked.

Steve started to tick them off on his fingers. “The demogorgon, though I haven't seen one myself, something I think you called the mind flayer, and ..”

“This is completely crazy! How is any of this possible?” Eddie bemoaned.

“El grew up in the lab too, and she has powers. She said all of the..subjects did. It’s more than likely that you have some sort of extra abilities too. Your aunt said you knew things.” Steve shrugged. “Maybe that has something to do with it.”

Eddie had been trying to ignore that part of the day’s discoveries, he wasn’t sure how he felt about the prospect of having powers, but he would have to stop running from it eventually. 

“I had nightmares about them all. Every monster we’ve used in the game is something I literally dreamed up. I mean, the boys ran their own campaigns for the most part, but they were young. I always helped. I played other characters for them, made suggestions all the time, and I always came up with the big bad of the session. I had no idea that any of it was real.”

“You couldn’t have known, Eddie. You’re right. It’s unbelievable.”

“Part of me wishes I could remember, but mostly? I just wish it was all a lie. It’s too much, man.” Eddie’s breath hitched, and this time he couldn't hold back the tears that were building. He hunched forward, curling in on himself as he squeezed his eyes shut, and let himself cry.

Steve wound his arms around Eddie and pulled him tightly to his chest. It didn’t matter that they were merely acquaintances, classmates who weren’t even friends really. In that moment, Steve Harrington was Eddie’s only tether to the world, and he held on for dear life. 

They stayed like that, holding each other much too tightly, until Eddie’s body no longer shook, and his tears slowed to a stop. He pulled back slowly, rubbing his face on his sleeve and mumbling apologies.

“I said I would be here for you, Eddie. I meant that. I get it, what you said about wishing it wasn’t true. I know it’s not exactly the same, but overnight my life got turned on its head, all because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Except, I don't think it was wrong. If I hadn’t found El, If I hadn't helped her, who knows what would have happened to her back then, or where she’d be now. I know all of this shit has thrown my life into chaos, but I've had a lot of time to think about it, and I can honestly say I'd do it all again to be there for her, to have Eleven in my life.”

“She means a lot to you.”

“She’s my little sister now, I love her. She’s my family.”

Eddie blew out a long breath. He was still feeling a little unreal, but his brief breakdown had calmed something inside him. He felt like maybe he could finally face this new truth about himself.

“I think I'm ready to go back, Wayne’s probably worried.”

They made the walk back quickly, wanting to get Steve out of sight from prying eyes as soon as possible. Uncle Wayne was standing outside on the porch, waiting, and Hopper's truck was parked in front of the trailer. 

Steve patted Eddie’s arm and continued on inside, giving him and his uncle some privacy.

They stared at each other for a long minute, until finally Wayne surged forward, drawing Eddie into a fierce hug. 

“This changes nothing. You are my boy and I love you. We’re still your family.”

“I know, Wayne. I love you too.”

Chapter 8

@penny00dreadful @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @manda-panda-monium @ellietheasexylibrarian @sofadofax @5ammi90 @meccaminayah @bestwifehaver @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @soaringornithopter @buckleybarnes 

#steddie fanfic #canon is just a crazy game of d&d #sort of #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington/eddie munson #life is a game

[leasstories]

Letter ten

TW : Depiction of grief; after Eddie’s death

Letter 9 - Letter 11

May 5th, 1986

Dear Eds,

I just brought Dustin home, they had an Hellfire session at my place. Everyone had a good time, they all defeated Dustin's big bad. I didn't play though, I am not ready yet. It's not the same without you. Dustin is a great DM, don't get me wrong, but he is not you. He is not you Eddie. The little shrimp talked about growing his hair. To be like his hero he said. We all know he meant you. It hurts but it also warm my heart, he really loved you Eddie, so much. You are his hero, you are our hero. Wayne did grocery shopping for me, he said he used to do that for you in 1984, before your father came back, before me. We told Ronnie, she came back to Hawkins. She was so glad to met me, you should have seen her excitement. She told me that she should have come sooner, to meet me in proper circumstances. She is kinda might at herself to be honest, she said she apologies for the both of us for not coming sooner. She said it would have been cool to spend time the three of us. She's nice, I understand why she used to be your best friend. You even look like siblings honestly. I'm trying to spend time with her but she reminds me so much of you, that it is kinda hard. But i love her really she has been so nice to me. She old me all your childhood embarrassing stories. It's kinda funny how you told her you were digging a hole to go... I don't remember where and she offered to help. I can see that the bond between you and her was really strong. As strong as ours, maybe even more, but different. She told me how you tried to kiss her and it made me laugh so much. It's the first time I laughed since that deadly night. You still manage to make me laugh even now. You're still my light in the dark Eddie. no matter where you are now. I hate what you did, but do not feel guilty, you did what you thought was best. And even though I'd rather have died than you - because I think you would have handled it better - you did it to protect us, to protect your little sheep, to protect me. I know exactly what wet through your mind, and even though it hurts, it was your choice to make. I am still mad, but not at you, at myself. I should have tried harder. I cannot be mad at you, not anymore. Because I know why you did it and even though it was stupid, it was also brave. You were metal. I'm sure if James Hetfield or Ronnie James Dio heard about it, they'd be proud as hell. Your own idols would be proud of you. I brought you Dandelions today, I went with Wayne. I handpicked them all one by one, I know you always did this for me, so I told myself I'd do it for you. About the roadtrip, I'm going to go, in July, Dustin wanted to tag along so we're going to go together, with Steve. Yes things haven't changed he is still the babysitter. And I'm ashamed to say that but he is my babysitter as well. We'll talk more about it later, so much happened today that I'd rather make a proper letter talking about the roadtrip alone.

I love you my Eddie

Your love,

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #the loneliest universe

[fastcardotmp3]

Re: the tags of that post you just reblogged from me - AU where Steve and Eddie swap roles for just the final fight (Eddie’s with the girls, Steve’s with Dustin) but with an added subplot where we meet Steve’s parents early in the season & maybe they’re trying to get him to grow up/move out/think about his future, or something else, but they’d have to feature somehow so we still get that ending scene except it’s Robin telling his parents he didn’t make it (im picturing a very tragic recontextualising around the phrase “you need to do something with your life” leading to Steve drawing the bats away from Dustin)

That’s just my quick thoughts though, I’d love to know how you’d do it!

oh I LOVE this you've got my brain spinning I have so many thoughts and it's all your fault!!!

(I am so sorry for how long this got)

I think there are for sure many versions of this plotline that could work BUT here goes nothing

I definitely agree that we'd need to introduce Steve's parents early on (in my ideal world we'd have met them sooner than s4 for this plotline but alas I'm not in charge I'm simply posthumously script doctoring) and I think one version of the conversation there could come from a place of wanting what's best for him, but centering itself around ambition and choice in a way that sticks with Steve.

"You had so much ambition when you were still in school, Steve-- all of your sports, how sociable you were-- what happened to that? Where did you lose that along the way?"

And Steve flounders a little bit, because he's gotten to the point after season 3 where he can see himself better from the outside, is just that touch more self aware and good at reading not just other people's feelings but his own.

So it takes him a beat to put it into words, but he's able to, is the thing--

"Maybe I don't need to go down the-- the usual path to end up where I want to end up."

"Is this where you want to end up?" his mother asks, "working at a video store for the rest of your life?"

"It's not about that," Steve shrugs, pouring two travel mugs of coffee all the while, one for him and one for Robin.

Because he knows it's not about that, he spent all of last summer learning it's not about that and the months since discovering that there's a certain amount of peace in knowing that things aren't perfect but that matters less when you have your people around.

"What's it about then? Steve, I just-- I don't want you to get stuck here, when I know you could do so much more with your life if you just chose to."

"I'm not doing nothing with my life, Mom!" he laughs, exasperated but certain for once in his goddamn life. "I'm-- I'm actually doing really well right now, I've got good friends and I've got the kind of job where I'm kept busy while I figure out what's next for me and I'm just... happy, I guess? Like, can't my ambition just be to keep doing stuff that makes me happy? Can't I choose that?"

And he has to go to work, has to walk out and promise her that they'll talk about it more later, talk about it with his dad too, but Steve knows what he cares about and this isn't going to shake his resolve.

What he cares about is this group of people who have changed his life even more than the monsters did, who brought enough good into it to at the very least match the bad, and in some cases (like the girl already monologuing as she climbs into the front seat of his car and accepts her coffee with a mocking kiss to his cheek) somehow usurp the bad.

Steve doesn't have to be what this town expects of him, what most likely to end up rich superlative voters expect of him, what his parents expect of him, because his life isn't about being any particular something, it's in the doing.

It's in the swinging of a baseball bat, the swinging of his fists to keep the people he loves safe.

It's in the morning drives to get Robin to school on time and the late night ones to make sure Dustin meets curfew.

It's in the friendship he's managed to find with Nancy in the past year, the knowledge that this version of them is the best one by far.

It's in the days driving the kids to the trailer park to visit Max even if she ultimately ends up refusing to come out with them, because at least they're doing it, at least they're trying with her.

It's in this, too, when they drive out to Reefer Rick's place and some of the claims of happiness start slipping through Steve's fingers again with the proof that it isn't over, the fight.

But they've beat it before and they can beat it again. It's in the doing, and Steve has gotten knocked down many a time but the thing he always does is he always gets up on the other side.

He knows this. He trusts in this. He's built a fucking worldview around this because that's where his ambition went, Mom.

That's what happened to "Steve Harrington, actually a cool dude."

Steve's humble enough to thank Eddie for saving his ass, but he's done this enough times to still be able to reassure the guy who calls him badass that, "It always looks hopeless right before we win. Don't freak out too bad if it looks like the end of the world, huh?"

Eddie looks at him like he has two heads, says he's jealous of Steve's optimism.

Even Robin tells him that she thinks they might not win this time but all Steve knows is that they always have before. All Steve knows is that his instincts usually work out, let him protect the rest of them long enough to make the big and vital moves necessary to beat this thing.

All Steve knows is that he just, he's changed a lot but-- He's just the same kid who was cocky enough to run back into the Byers' house to fight a monster, stubborn enough to let the Russian's beat the hell out of him before he'd let them do the same to Robin and he--

"I don't know, I still have hope. Maybe this is the first time we actually win. Forever."

There's this sense of finality to it, hanging in the air, and she doesn't look convinced there in the same way she doesn't look convinced when he and Dustin are saying goodbye to the other three at Eddie's trailer, but Steve kisses her once on the forehead and says, "what are you waiting around for? Go kick some ass, your schmuck will be here when you're done."

His instincts have always protected them in the past.

It's his instincts that have him formulating a plan the second he realizes the bats are going to get inside the trailer, going to make a break for the gate and attack whole swaths of people unprepared for such a thing.

Dustin will be mad about being abandoned on the other side, but Steve's pissed him off before and he's always gotten over it.

It's in the doing, his ambition.

It's in the doing, the key to a well-spent life.

It's in the doing, the being of Steve Harrington, overconfident nature and all.

He always gets back up, every knock to the head and blow to the ego, Steve always gets back up, so he holds his ground and fights. Leads the bats away and keeps them there.

His mother wasn't wrong that he's changed, but she wasn't right when she claimed the thing he'd lost was his ambition. He'd found it, this force of nature in his chest that makes him willing to face down hell if it means the people he loves are safe.

He always gets back up, a tail around his throat.

He always gets back up, teeth in his flesh.

Steve Harrington is a pro at getting knocked down.

"I'll get up in a second, just-- just a second--"

"Steve there's-- there's so much blood-- Steve, you need to-- you have to get up now--"

"It's okay, it's okay, we won, just-- just another minute. Wanna see that-- Rob and the others made it back. Then we--can go--"

Dustin is crying. Dustin is holding him.

And Steve is bleeding out, he thinks somewhere indistinct and hazy at the back of his mind. He'll get up and fix that in a minute.

"You die, I die! Hey, hey motherfucker! Don't close your eyes-- you die, I die, you hear me?!"

It's in the doing, really, that Steve does as he's told just long enough to see the other three come stumbling out of the tree line towards them.

It's in the doing, in the choice of it, that he dies knowing they won.

(His mother wails when Robin approaches her at the shelter two days later with sunken eyes and unwashed hair. His father sinks into the closest chair and takes the offered keys to a maroon BMW with trembling hands.)

(It's in the doing that this time, in order to really win, they have to cling a little bit to his hope.)

#I just think! steve GOT his arc about realizing life is about more than romance and reputation in season 3 #and letting him take those lessons and lean into them so heavily that it ends up getting him killed??? #that he gets just a little too cocky with his new comfort in his own skin?? #yeah #dot post #ask #ask me about my dead steve agenda #cw: MCD #there are parts of Old Steve that haven't gone anywhere and one of those is being vulnerable to becoming a tragedy (:

[luna-lunera-morada]

Holding History

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mexican!Female!reader

Summary: Prank wars between the reader and Bucky are all fun and games until one prank goes too far.

Warnings: Angst, reader and Bucky being assholes, mentions of family death, language, fluff

Word count: 3.1k

a/n: A good chunk of Spanish is used but the words in bold are the translation :)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Growing up with a bunch of siblings and cousins made you used to the constant bickering, playing, fighting, and especially the pranks. You were a master at it even though Bucky would say that the mantle belongs to him. Ever since you joined the Avengers not far back the connection between you and the ex Winter Soldier was rocky, rigid, and how Wanda likes to call it, childlike. These pranks have been going on for about a month now and everyone in the compound was done with it. Whenever either one of you had a chance to do something you would strike. It didn’t matter the occasion or the time of day. Parker has been the only one keeping track of points and so far you were winning and there was no way you were gonna let that change. The last prank was on Bucky and it was the best one you’ve pulled yet.

His beard had started to grow longer than he liked so it was about time that he would want to shave. This gave you the perfect idea.

Bucky was really private about his personal space, especially his room. It was his safe space, the main thing he had that made him feel in control of himself. You waited till he left on a mission with Steve and Sam to make your move. Making you glad that you wouldn’t have them berating and scolding you about ending this war. But they would be back the next day leaving you with a small window to get the job done.

3 am.

Everyone was sound asleep and the hallways clear. You touched your back pocket to make sure you had everything you needed. A bent nail, superglue, dental floss, and a bobby pin. The first three items were for the prank. You walked up to Bucky’s bedroom door and turned the handle. Locked. This is where the bobby pin comes in handy. You quietly pick the lock, making sure no one saw, you go in.

You’ve never been in his room but this is certainly not what you were expecting. You had thought that a shaken mind would lead to a shaken living space but it was the opposite. His room looked like a modern hotel room. It was so clean not one thing was out of place. Yet again he didn’t have that many things decorating this space. Except for a lamp and one framed picture on his nightstand. You turned on the lamp and picked up the frame. It was a picture of everyone at Bucky’s welcome back party. The day he returned from Wakanda everyone was waiting for him with open arms especially Steve and Sam. This was the first day you met him and it didn’t really go well. You accidentally spilled your drink on his metal arm causing it to malfunction. The first thing you did was laugh, you didn’t mean it in a bad way it was just a habit of yours. When something went wrong you would laugh first and then comfort. He didn’t take it likely though. That’s where the war began. Since you were relatively new to the team you stood on the edge for the picture next to Wanda. But you weren't there. It looked like he tore you out of it. Damn you didn’t know he hated you that much.

You put down the picture, turned off the lamp, and made your way into the bathroom. After a couple of minutes searching you had finally found his bottle of shaving cream. You take the cap off and plunge the nail into the nozzle and covered the tip in superglue. After it dried you tied the floss from the nozzle to the cap. That way when he goes to open the bottle he’ll activate a shaving cream grenade.

You could just imagine the outcome, the scene plays in your mind causing you to giggle. You put the bottle back where you found it and look in the mirror. There’s a piece of paper stuck to it, you step closer to get a better look in the dark room.

Is that you?

The torn picture is taped to his bathroom mirror. Before you could muster up another thought the sound of muffled conversations and keys jingling behind the door pulls you into a panic. Hide, hide, you need to hide. Bucky would fume if he found you in his room. You can't go out the way you came in without getting caught so you pull the shower curtain to the side and jump in.

This wasn’t good. He just got back from a mission, what if he wanted to take a shower first? Oh you should’ve thought this through. You hear the door open.

“All I need is water on my face and sleep. I’ll see you guys in training, goodnight.”

The sound of heavy tactical gear and footsteps grow closer to the bathroom. The light turns on letting you see a faint outline of his body. He starts to strip from his tactical gear and- oh. You thank Thor and any other God for keeping Bucky in his boxers but wow. He bends down over the sink to rinse his face. He takes a deep breath and dries his face with a towel. He reaches to run his finger over the picture taped to the mirror. Your heart hammers in your chest loud enough that Bucky might hear it. He opens a cabinet and pulls out… here we go.

He pulls off the cap and a boom sounds through the space. His face looks like he took a mordida out of a birthday cake and someone else shoved his head farther into the icing. White foam drips from the ceiling and onto his head. His face is in shock and confusion.

“What the hell?”

You try your best to hold in your laugh but it was no use. Bucky hears the muffled gasps for air and yanks open the shower curtain.

“You little shit!”

He reaches for you but you duck under his arms and race out of the room into the hallway. Bucky’s not that far behind you running and leaving a trail of shaving cream behind him. You get to your room and lock your door.

The harsh pounds of a vibranium fist makes your room shake. “Open the door Y/N.” You stand in front of the door with the biggest grin.

“Or what? You know, I think you have bigger problems on your hands.” You lean to whisper to the crack in the door. “You made a little mess.”

Bucky turns to see the white foam that has turned the compound into a slip n slide. Down the hall a tired Sam comes out of his room rubbing his eyes. “Can you guys shut up everyones trying to sleep.” He looks at Bucky, “Why do you look like Santa?”

Bucky sighs, “What?” Sam motions to the foam beard of Bucky’s face but he’s still met with a confused look.

“You know what, cut the bullshit and clean up, Tony’s gonna be pissed when he sees this.”

The man himself appears in the hallway. “Barnes why the fuck does my compound look like a winter wonderland?!”

Sam chuckles while retreating to his room, “Told you Santa.”

Bucky sends one more pound to your door. “You better watch your back Y/N.”

“Buena suerte Barnes.” Good Luck Barnes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s been a week since the shaving cream prank and Bucky still hasn’t retaliated. Usually he would get you back the next day and you weren't gonna lie, this scared you a little. How bad was this next prank gonna be? He’s taking too long and the urge to pull another prank is eating you alive. But the stupid rules state that you can’t prank the other person twice in a row. So that meant you had to wait for the bisabuelo with the metal arm to pick up his steps.  

The team had decided to go out and have a small bonfire near the trees outlining the compound to have a relaxing night. Tony had made a traditional campfire with logs for seats and had a built-in s'mores tray full of gram crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows. The logs seated up to three people leaving you to sit with Wanda and Peter, Wanda in the middle while you and Peter sat on the edges. Across from the bonfire sat Bucky, Steve, and Sam.

You haven’t sat at a bonfire since you were a little girl taking trips south of the border to go visit family. Memories started to come back from your childhood making you teary eyed.

Wanda noticed, “Y/N, are you okay?”

You look up to the stars hoping the cool air would dry your eyes but more memories come flooding in. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just… remembering.”

She lifts a hand to hover above your forehead. “Can I?” You nod as a stray tear falls down your cheek. A red glow emits from the palm of her hand as your mind is pushed back several years to a place you once called home.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The clear starry night of your abuelas rancho has always been one of your favorite things. Your absolute favorite however was the life that those stars shine on. Your cousins are running around in the backyard playing with a ball and your abuelo is setting up a small campfire as you watch closely next to him. One of your cousins kicks the ball too hard in the wrong direction and knocks over a flower vase causing it to break. Abuela comes out of the house, “Ya me quebraron la maceta! Ya a dormir!” You broke my pot! Now to sleep!

Everyone walks inside like a dog with its tail in between its legs. You leave your abuelos side and start walking towards the door, towards abuela.

“Usted no. Quiero hablar contigo, ve y siéntate al lado de la lumbre.” Not you. I want to talk to you, go and sit next to the fire.

As you make your way back to the fire your grandfather bends down to kiss your head. “Buenas noches mija.” Goodnight. You look up at him and hug his waist. “Buenas noches abuelo.” He retreats into the small house for the night leaving you to sit in the warm dirt. The ends of your hair brush the earth with its length, reaching below your hips when you would stand.

She finally came out holding half a lemon, a cup of water, and a comb. You knew this meant she was going to comb your hair so you sat up straight and waited for her to sit behind you. She places the items on the ground and gathers your hair in her hands, slowly running her fingers through the long strands.

“Que largo tu pelo, que bonito.” How long your hair is, how pretty.

You squeeze the lemon into the cup of water and mix it. This mixture was like nature's perfume for hair. You hand her the cup, soon you feel the liquid running down your hair and down your neck. You stare up at the stars as she divides your hair into three sections and starts to braid.

“Tu cabello tiene tanta historia y tanto significado. Cada hembra representa a nuestros antepasados y nuestro orgullo.” Your hair has so much history and so much meaning. Each strand represents each of our ancestors and our pride.

She ties off the braid with a rubber band and pulls you to sit on her lap facing the fire.

“¿Me puedes prometer algo?” Can you promise me something?

You pull the long braid over your shoulder and run your fingers over the groves. “Si abuela.” Yes grandma.

She kisses your head, “Sé que no estaré aquí por mucho más tiempo y serás libre de tomar cualquier decisión cuando seas mayor, pero por favor no te cortes el cabello. Representa más de lo que sabes.” I know I won't be around for much longer and you will be free to make any decision when you're older but please don't cut your hair. It represents more than you know.

You don’t ever want to imagine a life without her but one day a strand will belong to her, meaning she’ll never leave you.

“Te lo prometo.” I promise.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your hair has been in a braid ever since, long enough now that its ends fall beneath your lower half. Wanda removes her hand and hugs you.  “She seems like a beautiful woman.”

You smile at the memories, “She was.”

You look around at the people gathered around the fire making s’mores. This is your family now, in some way. You hear a soft thud on the ground and look over to Peter. “Oh noooooo, my s’moreeee…” You finish the last line with him, “...it’s brokeeennnn.” You two giggle with each other over your stupid humor and go back to eating the warm treat.

Thor speaks up from the circle. “Is it possible to have pop tarts instead of gram crackers?” Clint gives a concerned look, “How do you not have diabetes?” Before Thor could respond Bucky shoots up from his seat. “Yeah, I’ll go get some.” You watch him as he walks back to the compound then turn your attention to Natasha as she starts telling ghost stories.

It’s been a couple of minutes and Bucky should have been back by now. You look towards the compound and he’s nowhere to be seen. Across the fire, Steve smiles at you but his expression quickly changes. Before you can ask what’s wrong you feel someone pull your hair from behind, almost pulling you off the log, and in a second the weight is gone. You turn to look behind you to find no one there.

Turning back to the fire Bucky takes his seat and raises what looks like a long rope with scissors. “I think you’re missing something.”

Wanda looks at you and gasps, quickly turning to Bucky with eyes fuming red. Everyone's attention switches from you to the item Bucky’s holding and small gasps are heard from all around. You take a closer look at the rope he’s holding, confused at the statement said before. But it's not a rope, it’s your braid.

No.

You reach behind your head to gather the long thick hair in your hand, but there’s nothing there. You freeze. A breeze brushes past and you feel the ends of your hair touching just above your shoulder. Mumblings from the group and yellings from Wanda ignite all around, but you can't hear anything, can’t feel anything.  

“¿Me puedes prometer algo?” Can you promise me something?

You can’t breathe.

“Te lo prometo.” I promise.

You look through the fire to see Bucky confused at your reaction, there's a hint of worry behind his eyes. That’s when the tears start to fall, and they don’t stop. You can feel a panic attack coming to the surface. Hiccups and sudden gasps for air shock your body while hot tears fall onto your chest.

Wanda grabs your shoulders and brings you to stand. “Let’s head inside honey.”

You don't respond, it’s like your body has no control or urge to move. As both of you pass Bucky, Wanda snatches your braid from his hands. “You cold-hearted, insensitive man.”

Bucky makes a move to stand as you two walk off but Steve places a hand on his shoulder holding him down. “Just stop, Buck. You’ve done enough.”

The walk to your room feels like a year's journey. How could he do this to you? Yeah, you never actually told him how much your hair meant to you but you didn’t know he was going to chop it off. The prank wars went far but never this far. But how can someone justify this as a prank? This wasn’t a prank, this was pure cruelty. Wanda opens your bedroom door and ushers you inside to sit on the bed. You stare at the ground with teary eyes and feel a dip in the bed behind you. Wanda gathers your short hair in her hands and a sob finally breaks through you.

She leans to speak softly in your ear. “Shh, don’t worry honey. Don’t you remember?” She holds her hand in front of your face. “Some people don't call me a witch for nothing.”

She holds the long chopped braid under the new shorter tips of your hair. A red glow gleams behind your head and the familiar weight is brought back to your scalp. Your head whips around to face her while the braid follows the movement onto your shoulder.

“Wanda, how did you-?”

You hug her with such a force almost making both of you fall off the bed.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Wanda.”

She laughs and steadies your bodies, “Your welcome.”

A knock turns your attention to the door. You wipe your tears away, “Who is it?”

“It’s Bucky can I come in?”

You start to push yourself off of the bed when Wanda puts an arm on your shoulder. “Are you sure? You smile and nod. Bucky has his head down when you open the door. Wanda shoots him a glare as she walks out leaving both of you alone. Bucky walks in looking at the floor and lifts his head as you close the door.

He catches sight of the long beautiful braid reattached as if nothing ever cut the strands. He lets out a relieved sigh. You walk around him to sit on the bed and pat the spot next to you signaling him to take a seat, he does.

“Y/N I-”

“I made a promise to someone that was very dear to me. I planned to never break that promise until I was six feet under.”

His eyes stare into yours with regret and sadness.

“What you did out there made me feel like I was already six feet under. Even further than that.”

A tear rolls down his face. “I’m so sorry Y/N I- I never would have done what I did if I had known. Please forgive me.”

Your hand rises to cup his cheek, wiping away his tears with your thumb. “I forgive you. Truce?”

He takes your hand in his. “Truce.”

He hugs you. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Your chin rests on his head as you run your fingers through his hair. “Bucky?” His hum is muffled through your hair.

“Why am I on your bathroom mirror?”

“Shit.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: Yay! This is my second post and I’m so excited to do more. Any suggestions are extremely appreciated! My request box is open so feel free to leave a little something :)

#Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #prank #prank war #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barns x y/n #Bucky Barnes mexican reader #campfire #marvel #imagine #family death / #family death #mexican reader #Female reader #wanda maximoff

[hypahticklish]

Mad Max and the Week Long Tickle War: Day Six

Summary: Where Steve seeks vengeance on Eddie, and gets a little help of his own. A collaborative project with @nhasablogg and @lesbian-byers Fandom/Characters: Stranger Things / Steve & Eddie (pre-slash), feat. Max Wordcount: 2k ish A/N: …I had to rip the narrative out of Eddie's nerdy metalhead hands before he ran away with it… and then I did instead. Anyway, fun fact: the album mentioned was basically a set of lullabies for baby me and was my favorite growing up…that it also lines up to be the most recent release prior to ST4 is such a wild coincidence 😅 ← What happened yesterday?

~~~

"Alright, Harrington," he said as they shuffled off their jackets in the living room. "Today we're continuing your education into Real Music."

"Goody me," Steve grumbled. The sound didn't match the fondness in his eyes.

It was Steve's turn to hang out at Eddie's. Last time it was just the two of them, they had gone back to his place at Eddie's insistence - more space, more privacy, heated pool - and he didn't hear the end of the rich boy commentary while he indulged in whatever Steve's folks kept in the house. Eddie said his uncle rarely was at the trailer between work and the bar, but the tape deck and cassette collection must have been his true motive. Not that any of that mattered to Steve; if Eddie could spark light to whatever room he was in, then his home was the breath of life in and of itself.

Eddie swaggered backward down the short hall. "You've got your pick between my two greatest loves: Iron Maiden or Metallica."

"However shall I choose between US long-hair band and UK long-hair band?"

"You should be groveling at my feet for the opportunity to be guided to Valhalla by yours truly!" said Eddie with all the indignation of a fussy tomcat.

Steve threw up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, let's go with Iron Maiden."

"Newest or oldest?"

"Uhh, newest?" Steve chuckled at Eddie's quick change to a cheshire cat smile and took a seat on his bed.

The usual cold weather in Hawkins was interrupted by unseasonable sunshine and borderline warm temperatures if it weren't for winter's breath on the breeze; a phenomenon so delightful that most of the windows in the town were left wide open. Steve could not be more grateful to have the day off from work to spend getting to know Eddie better.

And to test what Dustin had mentioned off the cuff yesterday.

"You are a lucky boy, Stevie, because I have, in my possession, the Live After Death tour on cassette." Eddie presented him with the small plastic box case as if it were a sword. "The single best heavy metal tour of all time."

Steve swallowed the butterfly shaped lump in his throat at the nickname and instead raised an eyebrow. "M'okay?"

The speakers crackled to life in what Steve could swear was a World War Two broadcast before a hair-raising guitar solo kicked off the album. Eddie dove onto the bed beside him, leaned forward, and yanked back on Steve's shoulders to pull him down. "Lay back, relax, and get ready to have your life changed," Eddie said, scooping his curly hair up from behind his back.

Everyone who took the time knew the man relished in having an audience. Amidst some rather boisterous bouncing early on, Steve had turned onto his side to watch Eddie's performance. It was bad enough that Steve was still figuring out the knot worrying in his stomach when Eddie was around, but laying in Eddie's small bed with Eddie's bicep pressed to his chest, and Eddie's knee knocking into his, while Eddie passionately sang along to songs he had clearly developed his own choreography to when he wasn't playing air guitar, was driving it home to Steve that he may have something down bad for Eddie. He could not help but be mesmerized.

Thirteen and a half minutes after Eddie announced it was the last track of side one ("It's an epic poem, pretty boy, now shh!") the tape deck clicked. Only the music of rustling leaves and wind chimes outside remained. Eddie was pink cheeked, wide grinned, catching his breath with his limbs akimbo. "Fuckin' amazing, right?" he asked earnestly.

Steve smirked to himself. "Yeah, think it's growin' on me." Eddie punched the air and threw his arms back over his head. His well-worn 'Rush' shirt lifted from his low-slung jeans, revealing a triangle strip of healed scars across his abdomen. Steve nonchalantly cracked his knuckles and looked out the window to focus on anything else.

Eddie sighed contentedly, and then with a twinge of impatience said, "Alright, mind flippin' the cassette already?"

"What?"

"Well A) you're closer and B) you're closer. Soooo let's goooo!"

Steve's brows knit together but once he saw the impish glee smeared across Eddie's face, he sat up with Dustin's words echoing in his mind. "And here I thought you were one of the smart ones." He barreled past the scoff and pressed a hand to Eddie's sternum to keep him down. "No no, don't get up, I'll get it. Matter of fact, why don't you stay right here."

His big, brown eyes blinked into a squint. "Fine by me."

Steve got up and made a show of popping out the tape, turning it over, and replacing it. He ghosted his finger over the play button.

And then Steve was on his knees, looming over Eddie, ghosting his fingers along his exposed stomach. Eddie's hands jumped to catch him but Steve smacked them away. "Ah-ah. Don't move. You didn't wanna get up, remember?"

A fraction of hesitation, then, "No problem-o. I am at peak relaxation." Eddie tucked his hands underneath his bushy hair. His right leg began to bounce.

"Sure thing, Thumper, now hold still."

Having spent the past few weeks with Eddie, Steve learned he was a very touchy-feely dude; constantly hanging off his friends and clapping his large hands to their shoulders or knees. Eddie would dramatically wrestle with the brats and snuggle into whoever chose to be beside him. And yeah, sometimes those touches did turn to tickling the utter daylights out of whoever held his attention for the moment. He also knew that Eddie was easily provoked and startled, meaning that any retaliation attempts often turned him into a hyper maniac. Steve was banking on Eddie's stubborn ego to keep the tides from turning against him and having a repeat of last night.

(The swoosh in his chest at that thought was a problem for future Steve to analyze.)

Steve touched barely wiggling fingertips to the skin at the edge of Eddie's pantline and was immediately rewarded with goofy giggles. "Wow, really?" Steve laughed. "That's pathetic, Munson."

"F-fuck off!" His leg bouncing got worse.

"I struck gold without even trying," Steve joked. He walked his slow spider to the nearest shiny mauve bite mark. "Thought you'd put up a bigger fight."

"Shit shit shit!" Eddie's body jerked around the torrent of squeaky laughter slipping through his toothy smile. His hands scrambled up to clutch the edge of the mattress on both sides of his head and erected a tent between his elbows to hide in.

"Aw, well now that's adorable." Steve skittered near the jut of his hip bones up under his shirt toward his waist. Eddie's feet drummed into the bed as a plethora of snorts and swears broke apart his giggles. "You talk a big game for someone so ticklish it's silly. Imagine if I was trying to get revenge on ya."

Eddie's neck and cheeks turned from pink to red. "You-you just gonna be a-a-a fuckin tease about it, huh?" He sucked in his stomach and squirmed away from Steve's fingers.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Steve mocked. He tucked his body defensively, stiffened his hands into claws and vibrated them into Eddie's abdominal muscles. "Is this better?" He had to shout over the unhinged, shrieking laughter shaking the walls of the trailer.

Eddie's hands gripped his shoulders. His feet dug into the bed. Both vain attempts to push and buck Steve off from his stable wrestling position and the seismic fingers drifted toward his lower stomach. When those attempts to dislodge failed, Eddie tried to curl around Steve's instead.

"Rookie mistake, Munson!"

A loud, wet noise ripped from Eddie's unprotected side. "Wh-WHAT-oh jesus fucking CHRIST! Are you TWELVE?!" Another raspberry to his hip sent him cackling hysterically.

The front door to the trailer opened and closed loudly, followed by rapid stomps in their direction. Steve scrambled to his feet, wiping his mouth on his henley sleeve. The anxious breath caught in his chest released when he saw a serious looking Max enter the doorframe. "Oh good, it's just you…what are you doin' here?"

"Dudes, the whole neighborhood could hear someone screaming," said Max, relaxing into a smirk. They both looked at the panting, sprawled out puddle that was Edward Munson before meeting each other's gaze again.

"So you ran toward it?" Steve asked. Max shared a soft, albeit secretive, expression of familiarity with Eddie and shrugged. "We have got to work on all your kids' self preservation skills." Dustin's friends had a unique gift of making Steve incredibly tired.

"Well," Steve turned to Eddie, hooked his hand behind the crook of his knees and gave a sharp tug to pull him down the bed, "wanna be an accomplice to murder instead of a witness?"

"Yeah, sure."

The giggles had already ensnared Eddie in response to being manhandled. "Fuck off - no, you stay out of this, Red!" His arms glued to his side and fists balled to his chest.

Max clambered on top of Eddie as though it were second nature and peered down at the bundle of sparkly nerves beneath her. "And if I don't?" She took a moment to move Eddie's hair from where it could accidentally be pulled and away from his blush coated neck. Eddie made a competitive growling noise in the back of his throat.

"You two get on like a kitchen fire," Steve commented as he lounged across Eddie's lap. "Bubbling oil," he tripped his fingers up the center of Eddie's quivering stomach. "And cool water." Steve chuckled at the irked expression that crossed Max's face and kept the sibling rivalry observations to himself.

"For fucksakes, get off, you guys are heavy," Eddie grunted with an exaggerated show of effort. His feet flopped, first as a joke and second more frantic in the realization that he was unable to find the mattress to kick off from and gain leverage. "Oh shit."

"What's the matter?" Max asked with a saccharine lilt Steve only heard when she was challenging the boys into doing something exceptionally stupid.

Eddie was twitching, and maybe hissing?, until he was practically vibrating. In fact, this was perhaps the quietest Steve had ever heard Eddie be since he's known of him. Max, however, was snickering with the same sort of delighted mischief he'd heard Robin use at work when stacking Red Vine boxes precariously tall. She was hunched over and quickly extending and retracting T-Rex arms toward Eddie's neck, ears and chin.

It was when Steve casually wrapped his hand just above Eddie's knee that his resolve broke. "Wait - shit, don't! Steve-MAX!"

Laughter filled the room like spun sugar at the county fair; imperceptible at first but quickly growing in beauty and volume until all you want is to indulge in the fleeting sweetness of it. Eddie jumped at each of Steve's soft knee squeezes and craned his head away from Max's fluttering nails at his throat and squirmed futilely from Steve marching his fingers back and forth between his hips. Between their dedication to tenderness and the afternoon sun catching the dust motes swirling over Eddie's head, Steve felt he and Max had come to an unspoken decision to prolong this moment for as long as they could get away with.

A few minutes after they had slid off him, Steve helped him sit up against the wall while Max went to grab some sodas out of Eddie's fridge. "You okay, chuckle chops?" Steve asked.

"From the bottom of my heart, fuck you."

"How sweet," Max said, passing out drinks and taking a seat next to Eddie.

"Oh, don't think you're getting out of this." Eddie gulped from the can greedily and, consequently, belched in a way that made Max's face screw up in disgust. "And you called me evil, Harrington."

Steve didn't even try to stop the small swell of pride or the sideways grin. Instead, he just pressed play on the tape deck.

#stranger things #stranger things tickling #ticklish!eddie munson #Project: MMatWLTW #tickle fic #tickling #lee!eddie munson #mine

[writer-in-theory]

the 'they said speak now' collection

Summary: 17 oneshots, each based on songs from 'speak now' in anticipation of Speak Now (Taylor's Version). Pairing: harringrove, steddie, harringroveson Category: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort A/N: We're back at it again! For Red (Taylor's Version) I counted down the days to the album release by writing a fic based on every song. Now, we're back for Speak Now (Taylor's Version) set to be released on July 7th. Beginning June 15, I will be posting daily on weekdays until release night!

stranger things masterlist

➼ The Best Thing (That’s Ever Been Mine) (Harringrove, Hurt/Comfort, 4k) “I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin'..."

When Steve and Billy run away from Hawkins together, they find out the story doesn't end at happily ever after.

➼ Sparks Fly (Steddie, Fluff, Smut) “My mind forgets to remind me you're a bad idea..."

When Steve asks Eddie to be friends with benefits, Eddie knows it's a bad idea. Still, he's willing to take the risk.

➼ Back To December (Steddie, Angst with a Happy Ending) “It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you..."

When Eddie leaves Hawkins without a trace, Steve tries to move on the best he can. He never expected to see Eddie standing on his doorstep just a year later.

➼ Speak Now (Steddie, Hurt/Comfort) "Don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door..."

Robin's not the type to disrupt a wedding ceremony, but she's willing to when her best friend is about to marry the wrong person.

➼ Dear Billy (Mungrove, Hurt/Comfort) "I see it all now that you're gone..."

When Billy finds out Neil died, he never expected to feel so devastated.

➼ Mean (Steddie, Angst) “You, with your switching sides and your wildfire lies..."

Eddie knew better than to secretly date the king of Hawkins High.

➼ The Story of Us (Harringrove, Past Stommy, Angst) “I used to know my place was a spot next to you..."

Tommy never expected he'd lose his best friend. He never thought seeing Steve so happy would hurt him this badly.

➼ Never Grow Up (Steddilly, Hurt/Comfort) “I won't let nobody hurt you, won't let no one break your heart..."

Billy never thought he'd be a single father, but he knows he wouldn't give his daughters up for anything.

➼ Enchanted (Steddie, Fluff) “My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again..."

Parties like these had long since grown boring for famous actor Steve Harrington. Tonight, however, everything changes when someone new walks through the doors.

➼ Better Than Revenge (Stommy, Hurt/Comfort) “She took him faster than you could say sabotage..."

It shouldn't have hurt when Steve started dating Nancy. Still, Tommy was willing to do whatever it took to break them up.

➼ Innocent (Harringrove, Hurt/Comfort) “Who you are is not what you did, you're still an innocent..."

Some nights the memories catch up to Billy.

➼ Haunted (Harringrove, Angst with a Happy Ending) “Something's made your eyes go cold..."

What if Steve and Billy had been dating when the Mind Flayer attacked?

➼ Last Kiss (Harringrove, Angst) “You told me you loved me, so why did you go away?"

Steve was the one who was supposed to make it. They successfully defeated the Upside Down for good, but Billy couldn't celebrate.

➼ Ours (Steddie, Hurt/Comfort) “People throw rocks at things that shine..."

The whole town looks down on Steve for being with Eddie, but Steve is determined to prove to Eddie that he's the only one for him.

➼ Superman (Steddie, Hurt/Comfort) “Something in his deep brown eyes has me singing 'He's not all bad like his reputation'..."

Steve Harrington was a jerk. At least, that's what Eddie's always known. That is, until he watches Steve save the day.

➼ Long Live (Steve & The Party) “I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you..."

Steve always knew this day would come. The world was saved, everyone was grown, and there was nothing left to do but move on from Hawkins.

#stranger things #steddie #harringrove #mungrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #eddie munson #stommy #tommy hagan

[laundrybiscuits]

(Hanahaki AU tag : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4)

Sometimes Eddie thinks stories are alive, somehow. Not in a gateway-to-a-magical-world sense; more like kudzu. Invasive, demanding, immortal. You think you’ve cut them to pieces and salted the earth, but they come back when you’re least expecting them, smothering any bullshit ideas about individuality or making your own way.

Like the story about the Munson boy: bad news, good-for-nothing, stealing and dealing, always in hot water with the law. Eddie’d tried like hell to fight that one, but it just came for him twice as hard. He clings to all the ways he’s not like his old man, but he’s still so shit-scared that when push comes to shove, the ways they’re different don’t matter as much as they ways they’re the same. That story’s got him by the throat.

And now the story about the other Munson boy, the quiet one: born wrong, they said. Wrong enough that they had to cut it out of him. 

Eddie loves Wayne, but he’s never wanted to end up like him. Eddie had foolishly—foolishly!—thought that maybe there could be something different, like maybe his life could grow in bright new ways up and out, stretching sunwards. Instead, there’s the mile-a-minute strangling vines, overtaking him and smothering out any hope of light. 

It’s like those older stories, the ones about prophecies, right? Eddie used to love those when he was a kid. He’d been obsessed with the library’s battered copy of D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths, checking it out again and again just to pore over the colorful illustrations of golden fleeces and golden apples and children born from eggs. Characters like Oedipus who tried to outrun their destiny could never really win. That’s a story to warn you about stories, for sure. It lays everything out: the futility of trying to run, and the way you’re going to try anyway.

So he should’ve known better, that’s all. Nothing ever really changes for the Munsons; those kudzu stories always come to drag them back into their place.

———

They run across an old-fashioned frozen custard place outside of Milwaukee, all neon and aluminum siding and servers in little paper hats. Steve screws his whole face up into a grimace. “Do we have to? I’m getting flashbacks to when me and Robin worked at Scoops Ahoy.”

“You what? Did I know this about you? Wait, did you wear—”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Munson. That uniform is the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

It might be the worst thing that’s ever happened to Eddie, jesus. He can’t stop picturing it. Damn his vivid imagination and active fantasy life. 

“Well, Harrington, I have the overwhelming need to put some frozen custard in my face immediately, so you’re just gonna have to deal with the trauma.”

Steve gets a frozen custard too, despite all his complaining, and they sit in the back of the van to eat. It’s a pretty day out, and the place is humming. Lots of families around. 

“So do you still have that uniform?” Eddie’s a fucking masochist for asking, but he can’t help it.

“Kind of? It’s…wait, did anyone tell you about Starcourt and the Russians?”

“Uh.” Eddie blinks at him. “Starting to think I’ve been left out of a few loops, here.”

It’s a good story. Steve’s not a very good storyteller, he keeps going on tangents and repeating himself, but Eddie likes listening to him anyway. It’s nice to see him waving his hands around, clearly forgetting that he’s still holding a mostly-eaten tub of custard, and telling an objectively absolutely buck-wild tale. Eddie only has to hide a coughing fit once, and he manages to drop the gross ball of brown-and-yellow plant matter under the van without Steve seeing. It’s a pretty decent way to spend an afternoon.

When Steve’s done, Eddie whistles long and low. “Steve fuckin’ Harrington. At this point, I don’t think anything you can tell me is gonna be surprising anymore. Like, if you said you’d traveled back in time to kill JFK? I’d be like sure, sounds about right, bet you had a pretty good reason for doing that.”

Steve snorts. “I think you know everything about me now, dude. All the important stuff, anyway.” He slides a look over at Eddie, suddenly weighty and serious in the way he gets sometimes. “I know there’s stuff you’re—stuff you don’t want to tell me. Part of the whole, uh, Eddie Munson thing, right? But I think—I hope I know you too. Who you are. Even if I don’t know all your stories yet.”

Eddie draws his knees up and rests his folded elbows on them, letting his hair fall forward to shield his face a little. It feels like there are so many important things that he’s trying to carry around under his skin, too many for any one person to hold, and one of these days it’s all gonna come spilling out, infinite and messy, raw and inconvenient, damning.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess maybe you do know me enough.”

#okay here's the thing! I decided that the last segment in this series was a little abrupt. #so the first part of this flows a little weird bc it's going to be interwoven with the last bit of the previous snippet when it's up on AO3 #which might need to be soon just so I can get like. a canonical version set. #this is the downside of posting immediately after I finish writing a thing #y'all are getting front-row seats to my Process which involves a lot of backtracking #hanahaki au #steddie

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

hi you did one of my requests the other day and i obsoletely LOVED how it came out so im coming back for more of my new favorite writer… can i request some steddie where they were a couple first before reader came along so insecurities and doubts about being good enough or comparing to the other boy but lots of fluff and care and reassurance that they love her?? PLEASE AND THANK YOU

Warnings; Angst to fluff

❤ I hope you like this anon

She didn't expect to fall in love with Eddie and Steve. They were in a relationship had been since El defeated Vecna over six months ago.

It wasn't that much of a surprise. The chemistry between them was electric. They made such a lovely couple. It was obvious they were so in love.

Since she had joined them in the relationship she had been the happiest she had ever been.

Still, even with how happy she was, it was inevitable that sometimes she would get doubts and worries.

Eddie and Steve were so in sync with each other and got on so well that sometimes it was like they were in a bubble of their own and she wondered where she fit in with them.

It was a horrible feeling and she tried her best to bury it but it was hard.

Would she be enough for both of them, would she always feel like this? It was beginning to play on her mind every moment.

She was so in love with them. Would they love her the way they loved each other?

Deciding to talk to them about it she heads to Steve's room and hopes she can talk to them about her fears. When she gently pushes the door open she sees them entwined in bed together kissing and murmuring sweetly in each other's ears.

Her heart aches and she closes the door quietly before they can see her and leaves them to it. She doesn't want to disturb him but her anxious feelings grow.

Did she have a place with them?

❤

The next day Eddie and Steve notice a change in her mood no matter how much she tries to hide it.

Even when she tries to say she is okay they still look worried.

"Sweetheart just tell us please?". Steve asks gently and she knows she needs to tell them, she can't keep it bottled up inside, it isn't healthy.

"I just worry sometimes that I'm not good enough, that you two won't love me as much as you do each other, as much as I love you, you've been together longer, I just really worry sometimes".

Their response is instant and she is on Eddie's knee while Steve wraps his arms around them both.

"Princess. Steve and I love you so much, we want to be with you forever if you'll have us. You mean so much to me and Steve". Steve nods and kisses her forehead.

"You're our princess, our sweetheart. We love you so so much baby, anytime you feel bad like that again you talk to us okay?". She agrees and cuddles up in her boys arms feeling a lot happier.

Soft kisses pepper her hair, and her cheeks and she giggles as Eddie and Steve continue their sweet kisses.

"You feel better now princess?" Eddie asks and she does, her tense body is relaxing and the headache from all of her stressing begins to fade.

"Let's get some movies, Eddie can make his special hot cocoa. We got mac and cheese in the oven, what do you say honey?". Steve asks her and she nods excited.

A little while later she is cuddled into Eddie and Steve while they watch Sixteen Candles and Splash. They have Steves mac and cheese and Eddie's hot chocolate and watch the movies exchanging kisses and laughter.

It ends up being a perfect night.

#steddie x reader #eddie munson x you #steddie x y/n #steve harrington x you

[spookyclooky]

considering I will never shut up about this, and I see a lot of people ganging up on each other over this, I've decided I'm going to publicly share at least a few (if not all) of the slides from a powerpoint I made for my friends explaining why Stancy doesn't work and Steddie does

Keep in mind, this was not originally intended for general audiences but I've reached the end of my rope with this and I'm gonna show you some research I did (though I'm gonna exclude some of my slides cause they're introducing the characters for my friends who don't watch ST)

my first two slides, because some of this was jokes but I'm so actually fucking serious about this it's crazy

my summarization of both of their relationships (some of the Steddie one was jokes because they don't actually have a canon relationship obv)

and this is the summation of my analysis of both relationships (or what I think their relationship could be by analyzing the way they interact in Steve and Eddie's case). This doesn't even include the fact that Steve evidently wants a big family according to ST4, which Nancy straight up said is the last thing she wants. So, in being with Steve, she'd be trapped in her worst nightmare and would grow to eventually resent him. She even says this during that conversation:

Because she doesn't want kids! She expressed this early on the series when she's talking about her parents with Jonathan, telling him about how her dad was older and her mom married him for money. She didn't want to be like her parents, she still doesn't. She's trying her hardest to pave a path for herself in her journalism, by any means necessary. You think she can do that stuck in a house on the end of a cul-de-sac with someone she never truly loved in the first place?? NO!!! She says this to Jonathan in S1 E6, which just further proves my point

so hearing that, do you think she wants a cute little family with Steve, schlepping across the country with "six little nuggets" in tow? Absolutely the fuck not.

AND, for Steve, he straight up tells Robin that he doesn't love Nancy anymore. While he was on 'truth serum' from the russians. He doesn't even hesitate, and here's the scene if you wanna watch it again cause you don't believe me.

Even Murray, an outsider looking in, could see their relationship was not it

Like, do y'all not remember this?

Cause I do

this shows that even an outside party, who is JUST MEETING Nancy, can tell that she no longer loves Steve, and that's assuming she ever had feelings like that for him in the first place.

In S4, he SPECIFICALLY says, after the bit about crawling backwards, that he says when he gets a big enough thump on his head, he can change and move forward. He thanks her for helping him to 'crawl forward', which I kind of interpreted as a 'hey, thanks for showing me that the way I was acting before sucked, and you breaking up with me changed my life for the better', the breakup acting as his proverbial bump to the head in this particular case.

Speaking as someone who has been in an extremely unhealthy relationship in the past, I think that Steve is simply going through a denial stage at this point, his rose colored glasses coming back on to romanticize the good parts of his and Nancy's relationship instead of seeing the entirety of it. The good and the bad, even though from what we see as an audience, there's much more bad outweighing the good. Especially considering they weren't together for very long by the time the events of season 1 took place.

At the beginning of season 2, it seems like from Steve's perspective, the stuff involving the Upside Down (i.e, Barb's death, facing the demogorgon together, etc.), brought them closer together, but to Nancy, it made it easier for her to distance herself from Steve, for whatever reasons she personally may have found prominent at the time.

She at least acts like she's in denial at first about not being in love with Steve, but she lets that fall apart insanely quickly, considering she kisses/sleeps with Jonathan at Murray's a few hours after they talk about her love life/relationship with Steve where she says that she does in fact love him??

Delving into the mind of Nancy Wheeler is a complicated endeavor, the same could be said for Steve Harrington himself, but long story short, the idea that the Duffers could possibly be pushing them back together bothers me a lot because it'd be like Steve crawling backward all over again. It's like they don't know what to do with him unless he has some sort of love interest and it kind of shows. In S1 and S2, it was Nancy, in S3, it was Robin and now they're trying to come full circle which doesn't make any logical sense.

In all honesty, I think Nancy should just take a break from having a relationship all together, to finally let herself grieve Barb properly and Steve should have a partner that matches his emotional maturity that he's gained over the past seasons.

But that's all I'm gonna say, so thank you for coming to my TED talk and I hope you enjoyed <3

#anti stancy #stranger things #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #imo #long post #rant post #spooky speaks #these are just my takes #I tried my best to formulate my thoughts #but if you have any questions #don't hesitate to ask #was honestly very tempted to put the stancy tag lol #but i know i'd be upset if the steddie tag was flooded with antis #steddie #steddie endgame #jancy endgame #thanks for coming to my ted talk #hope ya learned something #i'm extremely passionate about this #joe keery #natalia dyer #charlie heaton #stranger things cast #stranger things opinion #i'll climb off my soapbox now #just needed to get this out #there was like one slide i didn't add but it was just me joking about how eddie belongs with steve #the others were introducing nancy eddie and steve respectively as i said