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libraryofgage · 8 months

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Spiderpool Steddie Part Two

Part One

This series is about to become secret identity shenanigans lmao

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't ^_^

Between Steve's glasses, the crowd surrounding him on the subway, and the rattling of the train against the tracks, a killer headache is starting to form, pressing relentlessly behind Steve's eyes and the bridge of his nose. He shuts his eyes, trying to take a deep breath to calm his senses, but he's just hit with the horrific and confusing smell of multiple bodies pressed together in a small space. Steve grimaces, opening his eyes once more. He considers removing his glasses, but he'd rather not risk losing them.

A garbled, muffled voice echoes through the train, the presence more than the words announcing the approach of the next stop. Steve sighs with relief, determined to get off the train ahead of time, and starts to awkwardly push his way toward the doors of the train. He's just two more muttered apologies away from them when he tenses, his nerves dancing with warning of an inconvenience about to come. Steve doesn't know what that inconvenience is, though, until someone else moves and their over-stuffed backpack smacks him in the chest.

Normally, it wouldn't actually have any effect on Steve. But now, between the headache and being mid-step and trying to breathe through his mouth so his nose isn't further assaulted, Steve loses his balance. He braces himself to fall on his ass (somehow, people on a crowded train in this city seem to have a sixth sense for getting out of the way of someone falling) but finds himself being caught around the waist, instead.

A strong arm holds him steady and the smells from the train are muted by the overwhelming scent of smoke and denim and something metallic. Steve blinks, tilting his head back to look at the person who's still holding him with no sign of letting go. He's met with a playful grin and amused eyes framed by untamed hair.

"Eddie?"

It's a question, but Steve knows it's him without a doubt, especially when Eddie raises an eyebrow and asks, "Have we met before, big boy? I think I'd remember if we had."

Steve tenses, pulling away as much as he can before turning around. They're still too close because of the crowd around them, but just a tiny bit of distance helps. "I, uh, I'm a fan. Of your band. Corroded Coffin," Steve explains, wincing at how stilted he sounds.

Eddie slowly looks Steve up and down, taking in the soft yellow sweater with a white collar peeking out from underneath, skinny jeans, worn-out messenger bag, and dirty high-tops. His gaze travels back up, lingering on Steve's glasses before saying, "No offense, but you don't look like you listen to my music."

"Well, I do," Steve replies. It's true enough. He did spend a whole day researching Corroded Coffin and listening to every song he could find. Some of them were way too loud for him, too much chaotic music clashing together into something his overly sensitive ears couldn't actually process. But he'd found the lyrics online with fan-made sheet music and, using the older-than-him keyboard in his older-than-his-father apartment, he'd recreated the melodies and found himself appreciating the music.

Eddie raises his hands in surrender, flashing a slightly apologetic, slightly playful smile. "I believe you," he says. "So, what's my number one fan's name?"

Steve tenses once more, reaching up to grip the strap of his messenger bag as his brain speed runs the risk of telling Eddie his name. They've met once while he was in his suit, but Eddie doesn't seem to recognize his voice or body or anything else. It probably wouldn't hurt to offer his name; Eddie will probably write this moment off as meeting a fan and never think about Steve again. In fact, Steve would wager that there's a 79% chance Eddie will never see Steve again.

He won't even bother wasting energy on trying to figure out the chances of Eddie seeing Spider-Man again. The likelihood is high, considering Steve likes relaxing on Sister Margaret's roof.

"Steve. Harrington. Steve Harrington."

Eddie's grin becomes a bit more genuine, his hands shoved into the pockets of his vest as he leans forward slightly. "Nice to meet you, Stevie," he says, his voice soft and just barely audible even to Steve's enhanced hearing.

Heat surges across Steve's cheeks, his heart picking up speed, and he silently curses how much of a sucker he is for pretty brown eyes. "Yeah, nice to meet you, too," he mumbles, glancing up when that garbled voice once announces the approaching stop. "That, um, that's my stop," he adds, a nervous laugh following the words as he keeps himself from meeting Eddie's eyes once more.

He sounds like a blushing virgin, and Steve wishes he could bash his head against the side of the train. He's far more confident when he's wearing the mask. If he were Spider-Man right now, they'd be bantering with playful tones and clever quips.

Well, if he were Spider-Man right now, he wouldn't be riding the subway in the first place.

"Oh," Eddie says, frowning slightly. He's silent for a few seconds before grinning once more. "You wanna get coffee sometime, sweetheart?"

The question is so sudden that Steve's brain grinds to a complete halt before rebooting itself. He should say no. Just meeting Eddie by chance has threatened his secret. So, Steve should absolutely say no.

But he likes Eddie. Steve thinks he's funny and pretty, and he knows they would have a good rapport if only Steve could get his head out of his ass and communicate like a normal person. And it's just one date. There's no guarantee it would even go anywhere or that Eddie would even show up. Besides, if he plays his cards right (bats his eyes just right, brushes his fingers along Eddie's arm, laughs at his jokes), coffee could become a free lunch, and Steve isn't going to say no to potential free food.

"Sure," he says, an eager smile that he can't help tugging at his lips.

Eddie lights up, holding his hand out to Steve as he says, "Lemme see your phone. I'll put my number in."

Steve nods, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening it to create a new contact. Once he's typed Eddie's name into the proper field, he passes it over, watching as Eddie puts his number in, double-checks it, retypes something, and then passes it back.

A quick glance at the now-saved contact shows that Eddie has added a bat emoji to his contact name. Steve snorts and sends a text message to the number, glancing up as Eddie's phone pings at full volume. It's muffled and blends right in with the chaos of the train, but Steve still raises an eyebrow at him.

"Listen, I'm in loud places constantly," Eddie says, tugging his phone out with a grin. "How else am I gonna hear when cute boys text me?"

"There are other cute boys texting you?" Steve asks, feeling a little more at ease. What was he so worried about before? It's hard to remember when he's focused on Eddie.

"Well, no, actually, but a guy can hope, right?" Eddie asks, winking playfully. "Besides, now I've got a gorgeous boy texting me. It's even more important to hear when your messages come in."

Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie as the train comes to a stop at the station. "Yeah, sure, gorgeous," Steve says. He knows he looks good (a person can't spend so much time on their hair alone without knowing it, he thinks) but "gorgeous" is probably going a bit too far. "This is my stop. Text me."

Eddie nods. "Assume I'm dead if I don't text you within two hours," he says, utterly serious, and Steve laughs.

He shakes his head at Eddie, waves to him, and then starts pushing his way toward the slowly opening doors that will let him into the station. Steve sighs with relief once he's off the train, and the somewhat fresher air makes him realize what he's just agreed to.

He doesn't regret it, not at all, but he suddenly can't shake the feeling that his life is about to get...chaotic. Even more chaotic than being Spider-Man makes it.

-----

Steve carefully sets the bag of tacos down on the roof before collapsing and leaning against the walled edge. He sighs, pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose, and lets the vibrations of the building soothe his adrenaline-spiked nerves.

The music plays uninterrupted for a few minutes before subsiding, the building going still despite Steve still being able to hear the crowd inside. A few more minutes pass before the music starts up again, but Steve can tell there's something different about it. Before he can figure out what it is, the door to the roof flies open.

"Spidey!"

Steve huffs out a quiet laugh, waving at Eddie as he walks over. "I got tacos," he says, gesturing to the bag.

He feels weird seeing Eddie as Spider-Man just hours after he'd been texting Eddie as Steve. Actually, the only reason they'd stopped texting was because Steve lied about going to sleep, wanting to ensure he wouldn't be distracted by his phone while patrolling.

Eddie grins and sits on the other side of the bag. This is only the second time they've hung out on the roof together, but Eddie snatches up the bag like he's done it a million times before. "Where from?" he asks, pulling out three tacos before placing the bag back down.

"Taco cart on 7th," Steve says, grabbing a taco for himself.

A comfortable quiet settles between them as Steve takes a bite of his taco. Eddie somehow inhales two of his three in less than a minute, making Steve wonder if he's even breathed or tasted the tacos. Before he can jokingly ask, though, Eddie suddenly says, "I've fallen in love."

Steve chokes on his carnitas, eyes watering as he coughs through the sudden, cilantro-scented ache in his throat. A steady hand pats his back, helping him through the coughing fit. Once he's finally able to breathe again, Steve looks at Eddie and asks, his voice rough, "You what?"

"Fell in love. Been hit by Cupid. Seen the fucking light, even."

Steve almost asks if their coffee date is canceled. It was supposed to be that weekend at a tiny hole-in-the-wall shop Steve had never heard of before. And then he remembers the mask he's wearing and the whole "secret identity" thing. He pushes down that question and asks a different one instead. "Oh, uh, congrats. What's their name?"

Eddie gets a dopey smile. "Steve. He looks like a stereotypical prep, but apparently, he's a fan of the band."

For a brief moment, Steve wonders about the ethics of discussing himself with Eddie. Then again, it would be more suspicious if he didn't, right? And he has to keep his secret identity intact. Steve clears his throat, wincing at the dull pain before asking, "Where'd you meet?"

"Subway. Some asshole hit Steve with their backpack and I caught him."

Steve can't help snorting when he hears it from Eddie. "How chivalrous of you. What, are you gonna say he literally fell for you next?" he asks.

Eddie's grin tells Steve that, yes, he was going to say that. Since Steve beat him to it, though, he just says, "He was so cute and flustered, Spidey. And sweet fuck, his hair? His hair is incredible. I wanna know how long he spends on it so I can really appreciate messing it up when we make out. He's got, like, moles and freckles, too, right? And they're so fucking cute. I wanna play connect the dots with them. We didn't get to talk much on the train, but I can tell he's sarcastic and funny. Plus, like, he gives off this really caring energy? Like, hand Steve a baby, and he'd be in his element."

Okay, hearing Eddie talk about him like this is weird. Steve's mouth feels dry and he shoves the last of his taco into his mouth before pulling his mask down. He's lucky Eddie is looking away, otherwise, he'd see the bright and obvious blush spreading across Steve's cheeks and down his neck.

"He sounds great," Steve manages, relieved his voice doesn't sound as strained as he feels. "Maybe he used to babysit?"

Steve did, in fact, used to babysit. He still babysits, actually. Granted, not as much as before, but there are a few single moms in his building that he helps out whenever they need.

Eddie nods in agreement, his smile becoming smaller and more genuine. "Yeah. I can't wait to get to know him," he says, his voice softer, and Steve thinks he might be jealous of himself if he wasn't so fascinated by seeing this side of Eddie.

"So, uh, when's the date?" he asks.

"Saturday. We're gonna get coffee, but if I play my cards right, I bet I can take him out for lunch, too."

A laugh manages to escape Steve as he wonders if Eddie read his mind on the subway. "If you do, there's a good Thai place by the park," he suggests. "It's called Thai Cottage, I think."

It's Steve's favorite place for Thai food, actually. But Eddie doesn't need to know that right now. He can just find out when Steve tells him on Saturday.

Steve once again finds himself wondering about the ethics of telling Eddie how to make the date go well when Eddie doesn't know Spider-Man and Steve are the same person.

Eddie grins brightly at him, and Steve finds he doesn't care about the ethics. "Thanks, man," he says, elbowing his arm gently as the watch on his wrist beeps twice. "Ah, fuck, break's over."

Eddie pushes himself up, stretching his arms above his head, and Steve hears several pops along his spine. "Time for the next set?" he asks.

"Yep. Still gonna be here when it's done?"

"Nah, I've got plans tomorrow, but I'll listen to the first song at least," Steve promises, hoping his smile is obvious enough despite the mask.

Eddie nods, looking like he doesn't mind at all. "No worries, man. I'll see ya next time, Spidey," he says, waving over his shoulder before heading to the stairwell again.

Steve watches him go, waiting until the door has shut before he sighs and slumps against the edge of the roof. He stares at the sky for a moment, briefly prays that he'll be able to juggle Eddie knowing Steve and Spider-Man, and tries to ignore the impending sense of chaos that has taken up residence in the back of his mind since he walked off the train.

---

Tag List (please let me know if you'd like to be tagged, too)

@soaringornithopter, @suikatto, @murdblurdock, @starman-jpg, @somegirlsomewhere, @heaven428

#spiderpool steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #stranger things #my writing #i hope y'all love secret identity shenanigans as much as i do #there's gonna be plenty of it in this series lmao

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apomaro-mellow · 5 months

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King&Prince 3

Steve didn't know how long he'd been in here between being knocked out and the fact that there was no window to help him tell the time. But it must've been a few hours at least, because someone came down to feed him. The person was nondescript besides the scowl on their face as they pretty much tossed the tray at him. It skid across the floor and Steve saw that it was some bread and some soup.

Steve reached for the soup first, wanting something to warm him only to find that it was just barely above his own body temperature. And something slimy was in it. He winced, making his deliveryman laugh.

"Eat up, your highness", he sneered before leaving him to it.

Steve tried the bread next. It was only slightly stale and he wondered if he should be rationing it. This could be his only meal for the next twenty four hours. They intended to return him home but that didn't mean he had to be in perfect condition. They could keep him on the brink if it suited them.

In the end, he decided to finish it all now. He looked at what he was left with. A spoon, a bowl, and a tray. He could probably use any of the three as a weapon, but that did nothing for his locked cell. Steve spent the next few hours, formulating a plan.

He would've thought about it longer, but that was when someone came to serve what must be dinner. That is unless they served bread and soup for breakfast here. It was someone different, but they handed him the tray in much the same way, sliding it in small space under the bars.

"I need to relieve myself", Steve announced.

"And? You've got four corners."

"So I'm just supposed to shit in the corner?"

"Enjoy your slop", he said, turning to leave when Steve grabbed an arm through the bars and twisted it behind his back and raised the spoon to his throat. It was probably the least threatening thing ever but his current warden was frozen.

"What the hell!?"

"You're going to let me out. Or else."

"Or else what? You'll spoon me to death?", he let out a choke of laughter as Steve pressed down.

"I think that's exactly what I'll do", Steve said as he slid the spoon up his neck, up his face and towards his eye.

"Waitwaitwait! I don't even have the keys! Only the king can let you out!"

"Are you lying to me?", Steve asked, his voice low.

"No! I promise. He's the only one with a key to this place. We don't keep a lot of prisoners!"

Steve waited a moment to see if there were any tells that might show dishonesty before dropping the spoon and backing away from the bars.

"In that case, I request an audience with your king. A prisoner I may be, but these current accommodations are not to my standards."

His guard gave him an incredulous look as he caught his breath and regained his wits. "Are you serious? You're making demands?"

Steve crossed his arms. "I am not going to shit where I sleep."

"No one here gives a fuck about what you want. Get used to that prince."

He spat out the word 'prince' like it was a slur. Steve didn't have a huge flock of fans back home, but the blatant disrespect was so foreign. He was left alone to figure out how he was going to keep his cell from smelling like a latrine.

Eddie sent out a letter the very day he had Steve in his keep, flying on the wing of one of his demobats so that there was no mistaking who the letter came from. Steve didn't know how things were going outside his limited scope though, and tried to make the best of his situation. He considered positioning his stream outside the cell and also leaving his solid waste as close to the bars as possible just to piss off whoever came down here, but considering that meant it might touch his food, he refrained.

There wasn't the smell of rot or waste here, so that could only mean prisoners weren't meant to be here long. That either meant they had different cells for long time stays. Or...

Steve brought a hand to his throat. He wouldn't think of 'or' right now. He paced around, considering trying to dig a hole in the softest part of the stone (what an oxymoron), when his foot stumbled against something. There was a small panel, it seemed. And when he opened it, it was a bottomless, black hole. Well what better place for waste to go?

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

Steve was pretty sure a couple of days had passed, just from the amount of meals he'd been given. But he knew he looked more destitute than that. A side effect of having to choose between tearing up his blanket to wipe himself with or tearing his own clothes. And only one of those was comfortable on his ass.

It was probably about three days in when he got a new visitor. This one still brought food but he was also significantly younger than the others. A literal child.

"Whoa. So you're the guy who tried to kill someone with a spoon?" The boy tilted his head, inspecting Steve. "You don't look that dangerous."

"Give me a spoon and let's test your theory", Steve said, sitting against the far wall, waiting for the tray to be passed over. It seemed fitting that a demonic king would be using child labor.

"Spoons are too easy", the boy said. "Now if you could threaten someone wiiiiith your pinky! Yeah if it was your pinky that would be intimidating."

"My pinky?"

"Yeah", the boy nodded, flopping his brown curls around.

Steve held up his pinky. "You could poke someone's eyes out, hold them up by the nose, break their other fingers with enough force, just to name a couple of things."

"That's almost every orifice. I guess the ears aren't too vulnerable. But what about the ass?"

Steve's face scrunched up, confused as to what the boy was talking about and why he was having this conversation. "What about the ass?"

"You could stick a finger up there. Really disorient a person."

"...Yeah it'd do that. But you wouldn't really do that to an enemy."

"Why?"

"How old are you?", Steve asked.

"Thirteen."

"Ask someone when you're older."

"Oh come on! I'm not a baby."

Steve cracked his first smile in days. He thought of himself back at thirteen. It wasn't that long ago but he was both embarrassed and nostalgic for that age. "Just hand the food over, kid."

"You and Eddie. One day the youth will rise you know", the boy said as he pushed the food over.

Hearing that definitely made Steve feel older than he was but he tried to ignore it. What was harder to ignore was that the kid kept coming back. Steve had gotten used to a new face every time a new meal was delivered. But this kid, who he learned was named Dustin, came every time now. He asked Steve questions about how to kill people.

Steve told him flat out he'd never killed anyone, was just trained to. So Dustin rephrased to ask how he would kill someone. It still seemed like a morbid topic to have with someone locked up, but it wasn't like Steve had anything else to do. So he told Dustin what he knew. About people's typical weak spots, about the best weapon to use for what sort of damage he was looking for.

He never considered that Dustin might be performing espionage. He was just a kid after all. And when Steve wasn't talking about headlocks versus full body grappling, Dustin was talking about his friends. It was mostly Will, Mike, and Lucas. Sometimes and El was thrown in there. And then there was this Eddie character. Someone who drove Dustin up the wall but also clearly had the boy's admiration.

Apparently Eddie told stories to Dustin and his friends and let them insert their own characters, and gave them a chance to interact with the story. It was fun and Eddie challenged them with obstacles. But it was frustrating when they couldn't decide on the best course of action and Eddie bested them.

Steve had never heard of interactive storytelling like that. And he had to admit it was a good way to engage with kids, not that he had much experience with that.

Around the fourth day since Dustin's arrival, probably about a week or so in to Steve's stay, he really took in Steve's appearance and it surroundings.

"I should ask Eddie about getting you some new clothes. And maybe, I don't know freshen things here? We've never kept somebody down here this long."

Steve figured that. "How is Eddie going to get me anything?"

Dustin looked at him like he was a child. "He's got some pretty big pull around here."

Steve doubted that. Eddie sounded like perhaps a servant with a soft spot for the children of the castle, regardless of their station. Maybe he was a knight and Dustin had been downplaying his nobility? Either way, Steve wasn't going to hold his breath. It didn't matter who Eddie was. King Edward was like stone, he was sure. Listening to no one.

Part 5

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #dustin henderson #anybody ask for some mistaken identity shenanigans?#can u tell i like miraculous ladybug?#also i feel like i spent waaaaay to long #talking about steve's bathroom sitch #but like #he's there for a while #and i need to describe how threadbare these conditions are #next time we get eddie's side

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