#I remember being a bit mad at Steve

[dcoasis]

Usually the reactions to this comic are “lmao this is so weird” and I’m so used to comic books deaths that I accept it as such and then you just-

“Today, live as though you have no enemies.”

“Call your loved ones.”

“What can any of us do when forced to confront the fact that death is random and cruel and sudden?”

“Sometimes being brave is knowing when the fight's been enough.”

I’m never looking at this comic the same again

And they talked. For hours. And I wonder what they said. We know Batroc didn't reform but I think...I think he made a promise to Steve, even if only in his own mind. Batroc has both feet over the line. He's a villain. But he can see the light without straining, and he will go no further. No action he will take will do harm to those who do no wrong, no blood shall he spill or heartache shall he spread. That's the promise Batroc made, I think. He swears to only ever be the villain of a better world, a kinder world. The kind of enemy Captain America deserves. Captain America 443

[literaryavenger]

Thoughtful

Summary: You find something of Bucky's.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader

Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Bucky being a bit of a tease. Just a whole lot of fluff.

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: This is a dream I had and I couldn't get it out of my head so I decided to write it down. Hope somebody enjoys it!

Masterlist

“Good morning.” you say casually to Bucky sitting at the island as you enter the kitchen.

He merely nods back to acknowledge your presence while sipping his coffee. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t like you, he’s just not a morning person. But the whole team is used to his morning grumpiness.

Also, you and the brunette supersoldier aren’t particularly close, so you don’t really expect bells and whistles when he sees you.

You pour some coffee for yourself and then sit on the kitchen island in front of Bucky. A light jingle coming from under your shirt gets Bucky’s attention and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that?” He asks you, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You frown at his question before following his eyeline and seeing him looking at your chest. But he’s not staring at your boobs through your admittedly thin tank top, he’s looking under them where he can see something resting between the fabric and your skin.

You’re honestly confused at what that is for a moment before you remember and your eyes widen a little as your cheeks start reddening in embarrassment.

Bucky’s confused at your reaction as he watches you take the chain around your neck to bring out the set of dog tags around your neck and Bucky frowns even more.

“I didn’t know you were in the military…” He comments while looking at the tags and then at you, unclear as to why you’d be embarrassed about it.

“I wasn’t…” You say quietly while glancing down at the tags. “They’re kinda… yours.”

Bucky’s even more dumbfounded by your answer. But, after letting your words sink in and deciding he indeed heard you correctly, he couldn’t help the grin that started to grow on his face, much to your surprise.

You thought maybe he’d be mad, although it’s not like you stole them, you simply found them. But still, you were worried what he might think about you wearing them.

“Oh good, I thought I lost them!” He says relieved. “I looked for them everywhere.”

“Well, can I have them back now?” He asks you after a moment of silence and you realize you haven’t even taken them off yet this whole time.

So you quickly do, leaning over the kitchen island and setting them down carefully on his outstretched hand. You watch him put them on, your eyes lingering on the metal on his chest a minute longer than necessary before going back up to his. 

“And why exactly are you wearing my dog tags?” He asks, and right now you wish he’d get mad at you instead. Anything is better than the amusement that’s all over his face at watching you squirm in your seat.

“I found them at the gym… But it’s not like I was planning to keep them.” You quickly justify yourself, your tone entirely too defensive even to your own ears as you blush more. “But you had just left for your mission with Steve and I thought I would just keep them safe until you came back, so I put them on… But I had every intention to give them back, I swear!”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, doll...” He says, his grin turning into a full grown smirk as he points out the obvious. “But I’ve been back for a week, and you were still wearing them.”

“Yeah, I-I guess I got so used to them that I forgot to give them back…” You say quietly, your face turning impossibly red as Bucky seems to be having the time of his life right now.

You groan internally when you see his smirk still going strong at your embarrassment and you decide to cut your losses and not give him more fuel to add to the fire before 9am.

You get up and put your empty cup in the sink. As you turn around you’re startled to find the Sergeant much closer to you than he was before, the kitchen island no longer between you. He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything or even pull away before he’s talking.

“On the other hand…” He takes his dog tags off and reaches out to put them around your neck, making sure to keep his eyes on the metal and not glance at your boobs no matter how much he wants to. “Maybe you could hold onto them for me.”

He looks at the tags on your chest then up to your face before he pulls away completely with a quiet “Beautiful.” and takes a step back, leaving you a flustered mess.

After a minute you remember how to breathe and you glance down at the tags. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. We wouldn’t want me to lose them again now, would we?” He says with a smile, reaching out to lift your chin gently and making you look at him. “But you’ll keep them safe for me, right doll?”

You nod almost without thinking about it, his eyes putting you in a trance. You’re sure you’d agree to anything right about now, all you can really hear is your own heart pounding anyway.

“Plus, now I can do this…” He lets go of your chin and wraps his hand around the chain of the dog tags. 

He uses his hold on them to pull you closer and your heart skips a beat as he leaves you a soft kiss on your lips. You barely realize what’s happening before he’s pulling away again and you merely look at him with your mouth agape in shock.

Before you can say anything, though, you hear snickers from the door of the kitchen and you both turn towards it just to see the whole team there. All of them have smirks, grins and smiles, everyone delighted at the situation as your face starts getting redder than Tony’s Iron-man suit.

You look back at Bucky and the cheeky bastard is also smirking, clearly much more amused than you at being caught like this.

“Okay, well,” You say while clearing your throat awkwardly and stepping away from Bucky to escape from this situation altogether. “I’m gonna go research the tallest building in New York so I can throw myself off of it.”

Your deadpan reaction leaves everyone laughing as they get away from the door so you can pass.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, it wasn’t that bad!” Tony yells after you between laughs, obviously sarcastic and you roll your eyes.

“Bite me, Stark!” you yell back, not even tempted to look back as you try to hide a smile of your own while hearing the team’s amusement in the kitchen.

You’re still a little in shock that Bucky kissed you but, once the embarrassment at the team having witnessed it washes away, you can’t wait to follow up on this with Sergeant Grumpy.

Part 2

[bleedingoptimism]

The night of the events of Starcourt, Steve lies about his parents being home because he doesn't want to impose on anyone else. So he says his parents are waiting for him back home and Joyce drops him off to get some rest.

Steve gets home and immediately realizes it's a horrible idea, he's concussed, confused, alone, scared, and in pain.

He panics and ends up walking through the woods alone where Wayne finds him when he's getting home from work.

Wayne freaks out over the injured sailor boy that looks like he hasn't slept in days and who is confused about how he got there.

He convinces Steve to come in for coffee, but when they get inside Steve starts looking around fascinated by every little trinket. he ends up in Eddie's room,

"Where am I?" he wonders and even through the questions and fears it makes Wayne chuckle, 

"This is my nephew's room" He answers looking at Steve walk around with stars in his eyes at the mess.

"He must be really cool," he tells Wayne.

Wayne nods and smirks but then Steve catches his own reflection in the mirror,

"is that me? Jesus no wonder you look so worried, I look like shit"

And he says something that breaks Wayne's heart a little, "I'm sorry," and he looks so sad too, and so honest like he really thinks him not looking okay is a problem for Wayne. Like Wayne would get mad at him for not being 'presentable'.

"I should leave," Steve says.

Wayne raises his arms in mock surrender,

"Woah, no kid, it's fine, you don't look that bad, I was only worried because you look tired. When was the last time you slept?"

Steve thinks for a while and frowns, "I don't remember..."

"Why don't you rest here in this cool room," Wayne asks him with a kind smile, "and then will get that coffee, ok?"

Steve agrees and falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow.

Wayne sighs and leaves the room, he sits on the couch and sees on the tv the news about the fire.

It's an explanation, not the whole truth but it's something. Clearly, Steve was there but that doesn't explain the bruises, the confusion, the fear. He feels like something else might be going on.

And why on gods earth was that kid all alone?

Eventually, he falls asleep too.

.

So when Eddie gets home from spending the night at Jeff's after a gig, he finds his uncle sleeping on the couch and doesn't find it weird at all, he tiptoes to his room for a change of clothes and there he finds the fucking former king of hawkings wearing the skimpiest sailor uniform sleeping on his bed, and for a second he thinks 'is it my birthday?' but then Steve turns in his sleep and Eddie sees his face and thinks 'shit'

He is instantly worried, no matter how much he dislikes jocks, no one deserves to be brutalized like that.

And to ruin that beautiful face? A crime.

Once more he tiptoes into the hallway and goes where his uncle is slowly waking up. He gets close, real close so when Wayne opens his eyes the first thing he sees is Eddie blinking at him. 

Wayne jumps a little and bites back a curse, "Jesus kid!"

Eddie chuckles, "Sorry, Wayne. Might telling me about the little sailor in my bed?"

Wayne sighs and tells him.

.

When Steve wakes up a bit later is to the sound of Eddie's acoustic. He's sitting in his desk chair, plucking a sweet and soft melody,

"Morning goldilocks," he tells him with a smile.

Steve, who had a bunch of excuses and apologies lined up already frowns, and inclines his head, "Goldilocks?"

"I found you sleeping in my bed, didn't I?" Eddie answers sweetly.

Steve blushes, he can't help it, and once more instead of getting up and leaving he gets distracted by Eddie's whole deal.

"I'm not even blond" he argues.

Eddie bows his head at him, as if to say he got him there, but then says,

"You have locks of hair that look golden in the sun, goldilocks"

Steve really hopes the bruises cover his blush, he really, really hopes. But judging from Eddie's smile, he can't tell it's not the case.

"I should leave," he says moving slowly to the edge of the bed.

Eddie places his guitar on the desk and turns to fully look at him, "You don't have to. If you don't want to," he points to something on the bottom of the bed, "Look, clean clothes and my fluffiest towel, why don't you take a shower and then we drink that coffee my uncle promised?"

And Steve’s heart hurts with how much he wants that. He doesn't want to be alone, he wants to stay here with the kind wonderful man he met last night and Eddie, who played guitar for him while he slept and thinks his hair is golden, but still...

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose"

Eddie snorts and mouthes 'impose' to himself before leaning closer and looking Steve in the eyes,

"I'm sure, Goldie. Go, shower. I'll go put the kettle on"

And steve can't do much more than nod and smile shyly at him.

[luveline]

Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻

quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k

Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours. 

You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm. 

“Don’t get too hot!” you call. 

“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout. 

“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.” 

Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly. 

“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?” 

“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her. 

Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same. 

Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time. 

The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine. 

“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.

“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze. 

“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy. 

“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.” 

“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.” 

“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says. 

“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes. 

“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.” 

“She was disgusted.” 

“She said we were being weird teenagers.”

“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.” 

“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.” 

“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.

Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.” 

He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back. 

“Are you okay?” she asks. 

“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?” 

Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?” 

“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.” 

“Right. Isn’t everybody?” 

“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.” 

“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.” 

Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling. 

“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly. 

“I missed my cousin, I think.” 

Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug. 

“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles. 

He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset. 

“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says. 

“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.” 

“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.” 

“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.” 

“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally. 

“Why now?” 

“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.

You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?” 

“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front. 

You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease. 

Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says. 

“Freezing!” 

Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.” 

“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?” 

“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.” 

“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.” 

“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck. 

You push against his hand gently with your cheek. 

“Sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.” 

“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.” 

“How much do you have left?” he asks. 

“Nothing. I was just about to get out.” 

“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?” 

“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere. 

Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.” 

You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck. 

“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses. 

“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair. 

“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.” 

“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper. 

“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.

“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble. 

“What?” 

“It’s a good thing.” 

“How dare you.” 

“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead. 

“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says. 

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge. 

“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”

He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore. 

[augustvandyne]

Hey! could you please right a natasha x wife r? Idk if you remember when the avengers have to take refuge and they have to go to clints house (he's reluctant bc he has a secret family only nat knows about)? well could you write it so it's actually nats family that no one knows about? and she's super reluctant to take them there

everyone's alive and no one knew she had a family (not even clint) and the timeline is SUPER wack bc plot twist, yelenas already there. the avengers are hurt nat didn't tell them and they're kinda mad too

nats wife doesn't like having them there bc it's her home and they're putting them all in more danger then they normally are in. the kids don't like them either bc they 'take their mom away' or something like that (but the kids adooore their aunt yelena)

this is super long I'm sorry but the idea has been plaguing my head and I feel like it would be fun to read about. thank you and have a great day!

hi! yes! don’t worry about it being too long, i’ll listen to and write whatever thoughts you have.

safehouse

You and Yelena were baking a cake when pack of Avengers came piling through the front door.

You were expecting Natasha later in the week, and alone. Not with the danger that is literally standing in your doorway.

That was the best part of this place, there was no danger. Nat left work at work, and when she came home all she focused on was her family—you, Yelena, and your two lovely children.

So you were definitely surprised, and not happy, to see the other five Avengers.

You walk further into the living room, and when Nat sees you, her face is immediately apologetic.

“Babe—“

“Who are all these people?” Yelena comes and stands beside you in the living room, staring up at all the men.

“This is Steve, Clint, Tony, Thor, and Bruce. They’re my friends,” Natasha shrugs.

“Uh, no, we’re not your friends now,” Clint crosses his arms with sass.

“They’re the Avengers,” You correct your wife. “And they shouldn’t be here.”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to even bring them here, but—“

“It’s our fault, ma’am,” Steve interrupted.

“Oh, here we go,” Tony throws his hands in the air.

“What?” Steve whines.

“First the language, and now the manners. Good god,” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Okay, take it elsewhere. More preferably, back to where you came from,” You fake smile, earning a glare from Nat.

“Where are the kids?” Nat asks, and you get the feeling she needs to talk. Alone.

“Upstairs in the playroom. Yelena, why don’t you take them outside to play on the swing set?” You ask sweetly.

“Ah, gotcha,” Yelena gave a look to Natasha that said, good luck.

The kids say hello to Nat, made faces at the men still in your living room, and then squealed with joy out the door because their mama is home.

You looked away from the door and back up at the Avengers once again. Nat softly grabs you by the arm and pulls your towards the other side of the living room.

“What are they doing here, Nat?” You lean closer, your foreheads slightly touching.

“I had no other choice,” Natasha’s raspy voice makes it hard not to forgive her.

You sigh and purse your lips.

“Really,” Nat insists. “If there was any other choice, I would have made it. We just got into a little trouble, and need to camp out for a few days.”

You made a vow not to ask what trouble she was in, so you kept your mouth shut when she says this.

“Okay. But if there’s even a little bit of damage to the house, they are paying for it,” You lift your head up and walk back towards the group, Natasha following close behind.

Nat glances your way, then back at the boys, “We can stay here. But only for a few days.”

“So this is where Lady Natasha goes every time she takes off,” Thor nods.

“Yes. A home we didn’t even know about?” Bruce shakes his head.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” Clint looks genuinely hurt when Nat looks at him. “I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Tony puts his hand on his chest.

You roll your eyes and head back to the kitchen before the cake burns, letting your wife deal with her friends/fellow Avengers.

You finish the frosting Yelena had started, and ice the cake once it comes out of the oven. You then start on dinner. Something easy everyone can enjoy—pasta.

Dinner goes about as well as you thought it would.

Nat and the kids catch up. She just saw them a week or so ago, so there isn’t much to catch up, but you love watching Natasha play and talk with the kids.

You try not to laugh as the kids keep making faces at the guys.

Your daughter starts to kick Tony in the shin, to which him and your daughter start having a staring contest.

“Okay, what are you guys doing?” Nat asked.

“Your tiny agent keeps kicking me,” Tony says, never taking his eyes off the smaller girl.

“Okay she’s not an agent, and it’s probably because you take her mother away every chance you get,” You sighed with frustration. “Good she’s kicking you, maybe you’ll leave then.”

“Y/n—“

“I’m sorry,” You look at your wife. “I said it was okay, even though you’re putting us it more danger. But, I will try to be civil, but only for Natasha.”

“Thank you.”

Later in the night you had assigned everyone to places in the house to spend the night.

Yelena had volunteered to spend the night with the kids, so at least two people could bunk in there, and it was fine by you because the kids adored Yelena.

So two people slept in Yelena’s room, you had one in the living room, and two in the guest room downstairs.

“They are mad at me, you know?” Nat brushed through her hair.

“They’ll get over it. It’s a safe house,” You wrap your arms around her waist from behind. “You are supposed to keep it secret.”

“I know,” Nat turns so you two are face to face. “I love you, and thank you for letting us stay here. We’ll be out of her in two days, tops.”

“Good,” You plant a kiss on the side of Natasha’s mouth.

“But I might not be back for a while,” Nat cups your cheek in her hand.

“I had a feeling,” You look down.

“I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

“How about you start now?” You lift a brow and squeal as your wife picks you up and puts you on the bed.

Danger aside, you loved having your wife back in your arms, and you were granted with just that from this crazy mission.

[lovebugism]

Heyo!

Can you pretty please with sugar on top do something with Steve and shy!reader and then passing notes?

Feel free to skip if you want, and thank you in advance! Your writing skills are so good!

ty angel! hope you like it xoxo — after a scolding from keith for talking to you on the job, steve takes matters into his own hands (shy!fem!r, fluff, established relationship, 1.3k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Grieving, grieving, grieving.

Steve goes into his fourth hour on the clock mourning the lack of you. You’re sitting just beside him, click-clacking away at the chunky computer, but he misses you anyway. He hasn’t said a word to you in an hour. He’s pretty sure it has to be a record by now, especially with you close enough to kiss.

Keith got mad at the two of you for ‘fonduing on the job.’ Whatever that means. Now, the two of you are silent and unsure of what to do with yourselves. This job was only tolerable because he could spend eight hours with you. What’s he supposed to do now? Work?

“Have a good day,” he says, a bit robotically but with a smile, as he hands a customer their bag of movies. Killer Klowns, Poltergeist, and Basketcase — for what must be a horror movie marathon for a holiday season cleanse.

The customer service grin washes away the second the door dings open and shut again. The store is quiet and mostly empty, eerily so without you to fill the void. 

A funny joke pops into his head then, and his first instinct is to tell you about it — just to see you smile ‘cause he knows you’ll laugh even if it’s not funny. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Keith isn’t looking, then finds the weirdo watching him like a hawk, only his beady eyes visible over the aisle of tapes.

Steve cowers beneath the ice-cold glare and turns away again. He reaches for a sticky note instead, bright yellow and with the Family Video logo printed in green at the top. The jotting of his pen against the pad fills the mostly silent store. 

He yawns and fakes a stretch to stick the thing on the counter next to you.

You don’t notice it at first — because inventory has drained your awareness so much that it’s all you can focus on — but you’re smiling the second you do. It schlicks when you un-stick it from the laminate to find a sloppy drawing of a cartoon pig. 

“Missing you pig time” is written in something close to chicken scratch just beside it.

You get all giddy, like a schoolgirl in the back of the classroom getting a note from their crush. Being with Steve feels exactly like that, all the time. On the legal pad next to you, you write a cheesy pun of your own — a plump hippo in a neater cursive that reads “I hippopota-miss you.” 

You rip it from the notebook slowly and with a palm spread flat to avoid making too much noise. You crumble it up to pretend like it’s trash, then intentionally miss the bin beside you. The thing bounces by Steve’s sneakers before he bends down to pick it up with a golden hand.

He smooths out the paper as best he can on the counter. Then leans on his elbow and props his scruffy chin in his palm, using his fingers to hide the beam on his face. With his free hand, he draws you a hedgehog adjacent to the cartoonish animal you’d created — only he doesn’t really remember what a hedgehog looks like, so it’s more of a circle with spikes.

“Could really use a hedge-hug right now,” he writes.

He crushes the paper between his palms and tosses it into your lap.

You shoot him a glare, accompanied with a small smile, but he looks away too quickly to see it. 

You begin to beam as your eyes dart over the crumbled paper, an expression so wide Steve can see it in his own head. He’s grieved to miss it, but he doesn’t want Keith to see him and think he’s distracted again. Besides, he knows if he looks at you too long, he’ll have no choice but to kiss you stupid.

Now all you are is unkissed and grieving, more so than you were just five minutes ago. You grow empty with the feeling. It makes the spark of bravery and sudden longing burn brighter behind your ribcage.

You rise from your squeaking swivel chair and walk the very short distance to Steve. Three steps. Five, maybe. Six at the very most. You don’t count them, too overwhelmed by your love for the boy who doesn’t see you coming.

You wrap him up in your arms, wedging yourself between him and the countertop. Your arms clasp behind his lower back as your cheek squishes into his sternum. He smells like home, cologne, and something warmer.

Steve tenses beneath your embrace. Not because he doesn’t welcome it, but because you’re not usually so affectionate this way. It took you months to kiss him first — longer to stop asking to kiss him before you did it. 

And you’re a delicate little thing, too. You hate getting in trouble. Hate the thought that someone, somewhere in the world, was at some point unhappy with you. And even though you don’t particularly care for your boss, you’d think you’d probably cry if Keith ever scolded you.

Steve knows this, too. So he doesn’t give in to you so easily.

“Whatcha doing?” he croons lowly to you.

“Give you a hedge-hug,” you mumble into his chest.

He scoffs a faint laugh that fans across your forehead. “You’ll get in trouble,” he teases in a gentle whisper, slowly melting into your embrace. His wide hands smooth warm along your spine. He doesn’t press you anything closer with his touch, just cradles you softly against him.

“Don’t care. I just miss you.”

“Hippopota-miss me?” he jokes and noses into your hair. You smell like home, in both the figurative and literal sense of the word. Equal parts because you spent the night at his place and because your scent strikes something short of nostalgia inside his chest.

You laugh. He can feel the golden sound of it in his ribcage. “Pig time,” you answer.

“How’d you like that one, huh?” he asks, muffled against you.

“It was genius.”

“Right!” he chuckles. “Thought of it outta nowhere and had to tell someone about it.”

Your head shakes against him as a grin blossoms on your lips. He can’t see it from this angle, but he can feel it — in the way your cheek squishes harder against his sternum. “Your brain is so amusing, you know that?”

Steve, knowing that would be an insult coming from Robin, decides to take it as a compliment from you. He presses his petaled mouth to your forehead and lingers there for several moments. “Thank you,” he murmurs after.

The Robin in question turns out to be his savior, neither intentionally nor ungrudgingly.

She’s stacking VHS tapes on the shelves with Keith, both of them crouched to restock the bottom rows. She rises first, bones creaking in protest. “God, I feel like an eighty-year-old, man,” she groans and stretches her aching knees.

Back to full height again, she sees the two of you wrapped in an embrace behind the counter. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. Not because she’s jealous — she’s definitely not jealous — but because the two of you couldn’t last a whole hour not talking. It’s deplorable.

But despite her internalized complaints, she refuses to let Keith catch you fonduing a second time. Right before he stands beside her, she swipes a hand over the top row of tapes. Adventure movies titled L through M tumbled to the ground, a few of them knocking the older boy on his mulleted head.

“Ow!” he winces, nasally and whiny. He cradles the top of his deep brown, only slightly greasy hair and stares daggers at the girl above him. “What the heck was that for?”

Robin shoots him a shaking smile, freckled face blotched pink. “Sorry,” she lilts, voice trembling. “Spasm.”

[sweetyyhippyy]

Forgotten Anniversary. Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader. *FLUFF*

Summary: A few weeks after the birth of their baby girl, Steve's wife forgets an important date.

Word Count: 1k

TW: Talking about birth and labor, being forgetful, crying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a blurry 2 weeks after the birth of their first baby, little Mia Alexandra Harrington.

She was an 8 pound 2 ounce little peanut, born with a lot more hair than anyone had thought.

Mia had come a few weeks earlier than expected. The birthing experience was exhausting, plus some complications during labor caused both of them to stay in the hospital for 5 extra days than they had expected.

Steve had been the most incredible man the entire time. He held his wife's hand and was by her side the entire labor process, feeding her ice chips at her request, fanning her face, kissing her head when she cried from the pain, and praised her the entire time she was pushing, encouraging her to keep going, and not letting her give up when she told him she couldn’t do it.

He had taken the fatherhood role like a champ, doing most of the diaper changes that way she didn’t have to lift. Even in the middle of the night when she was nursing, he got up with both of them, getting her some snacks or water, whatever she wanted or needed. She always had his support, and she was so thankful for it.

Both of them were exhausted between Mia mixing up her days and nights, trying to navigate through the slight colic she had, both of them taking turns trying to soothe her so the other didn’t get too overwhelmed.

Today was a bit of a rough day, Mia was uncomfortable and let everyone know it. Like always, Steve and her took turns trying to relieve the gas in her tummy to make her feel better, but Mia was not having any of it.

She wanted to be held close or to be fed, and if either of them thought about putting her down, she was going to make both of them regret it.

Steve watched as Mia fed from his wife on and off all day, feeling bad that she was in pain from her breasts being so sensitive. Her oversized shirt was covered in spit up and soda that she had spilled on herself during lunch accidentally. But she was far too tired and sore even still to go change.

Steve had run out to go get her some ice cream, a treat that both of them had deserved after today, so it had just left her and their baby girl in the living room watching reruns of The Golden Girls, one of her guilty pleasure shows.

She watched their baby girl next to her on the couch fast asleep and slightly milk drunk. She studied her face, trying to determine if she had her nose or Steve’s (it was most definitely Steve’s), if she had her lips or Steve’s (hers), and who she was going to get her personality from.

From behind the couch she could hear the lock turn, meaning Steve was home. She shifted on the couch, watching him come in with a smile on her face. It wasn’t until he turned around that she saw a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“Stevie, you got me flowers?” She melts inside, beaming at her husband.

Steve rounds the couch, handing her the flowers. “I wanted to do something nice for you today.”

“Aww, aren’t you sweet? I know today has been hard, but I finally got her down when you were gone.”

“Well actually… today is our anniversary.” Steve says awkwardly.

Her eyes grow wide at his words, her heart falling into her stomach at the realization that she had forgotten their wedding anniversary. “Steve, oh my god. Steve, I'm so sorry!”

“No, honey! It’s not your fault. There’s been so much going on the past few weeks, both of us have been in baby land and we’ve barely gotten any sleep.”

Tears start to burn her eyes as she stares at her husband, guilt running through her body. “You still remember our anniversary. I totally spaced it. I feel so awful.” The tears start to roll down her cheeks, quickly trying to wipe them away.

“Honey, it’s okay. I promise I’m not mad or upset that it slipped your mind.” Steve comes next to her on the couch, kissing her forehead and wrapping his arm around her. “You’ve had a lot going on, you spent 8 and a half months growing our daughter in your belly, you spent 19 hours in labor and you had such hard labor. You’ve been crushing it with breast feeding since we’ve been home.”

She looks into her husband’s eyes, guilt still riddled on her face. “I’m so sorry, Stevie.”

Steve softly kisses her lips twice, nudging his nose against hers. “Not to be a total goob, but you kind of did give me the best anniversary present of all. You gave me my first born, that’s a pretty good anniversary present.”

She smiles at his words, resting her forehead against his. “You’re such a goob. I promise I’ll make this up to you.”

“No rush, honey. We have a lot more anniversaries in our future for us to celebrate.”

“I love you so much, Stevie.” She kisses his lips, the sudden cry from their daughter interrupting them.

Steve laughs as he pulls away from his wife. “We also have a lot more intimate moments being interrupted by our children to look forward to.”

“Children? How many more children of yours do you think I’m bearing?” She jokes, grabbing the crying infant and quietly shushing her. “This one tried to kill me.”

Steve puts his hands out, requesting the baby from her. She hands him the baby and her spit up rag, smiling from ear to ear as she watches Steve settle her against his chest.

“You think I was kidding when I said I wanted six?” He raises his eyebrows, laughing to himself as he walks out of the room to go change his daughter.

“Steven Harrington, I already said I was not giving birth six times. You’ve lost your mind.” She slowly gets off the couch, following him to finish scolding him.

“You don’t have to give birth six times, we can always try for twins.” He calls back to her, the grin on his face prominent in his words.

[half-oz-eddie]

🎁 ❤️

Max was not supposed to be in Billy’s room. She knew better. 

But it was 7:30 AM and she really wanted to leave something for him on his desk. 

She quietly crept in, sliding her slim frame through the ajar door and tiptoed to his desk to gently place something on it. 

“The hell’re you doing?” A groggy voice startled her. 

She should’ve expected the hyper-vigilant teen to wake up while she was there. 

“I was—I just wanted t-to leave something here for you.” She nervously stammered. 

He narrowed his sleepy eyes at her. “Give it here.” 

Max slowly walked over, handing the surprise to Billy. 

It slowly exchanged hands and Billy examined it closely. 

“I-I know you don’t have a record player but I saw the posters in your room and I thought you’d want to—like—have something to collect. So Steve drove me to a record store to get you a vinyl.”

He stared at the Mötley Crüe vinyl for a few moments, then handed it back to Max. “Put it on my desk.” He said as he laid back down. 

“Y-you don’t like it?” She frowned. 

“Never said I didn’t. I’m just tired.”

Max slowly walked back over to his desk and set the vinyl down. 

“Why’d you buy that for me?” He asked. 

“Don’t you know what today is? It’s your—“

“I know that.” He said in a snippy voice. “I’m asking why the hell you bought me anything. You never cared before.”

“Well, last year, I tried to buy you something with my allowance and my mom said Neil would be mad if I used my money on you, so she wouldn’t take me to the mall.”

“And you said Harrington drove you? Why the hell did he do that?” Billy continued to question.

“We had a long talk about that night at the Byers and we came to a realization of how unfair we were being to you. So I—I didn’t wanna lose you forever. We don’t get along but like, we had our moments, where we’d talk to each other a little bit. Now we don’t speak at all.”

“You stabbed me with a needle.”

“You were gonna kill Steve if I didn’t stop you.” Max sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to be. But whatever, guess I’m sorry too.”

Max smiled.  “I’ll let you sleep. Happy birthday.”

She closed the door behind her upon exiting and went back to her bed.

It was nearly 11AM when Max woke up again. Neil and Susan were already at work. Susan left a note behind with instructions for heating up lunch. 

This year, there was no school on Billy’s birthday, so Max decided to heat up the lunch for both of them. 

She set down two plates just in time, as she heard Billy resurfacing from his room.

He stepped through the quiet house and stopped by the table, glaring at Max.

“Nobody’s home?”

“No. Mom left lunch for us, so I heated it up.”

Billy looked down at the chicken Parmesan. Susan normally only made it for holidays, but Easter wasn’t until Sunday. 

Max figured it was Susan’s subtle way of giving Billy a little something special for his birthday.

“There were some breadsticks too.” Max mentioned, grabbing them out of the toaster oven. “I put some of that garlic and herb stuff on them because I remembered that you like it.”

Billy glared at Max as she started eating. 

“What?” She asked with her mouth half full.

Billy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nothin’. Forget it.” 

They ate in complete silence. Billy finished first and got up from the table without a word.

Max didn’t expect much conversation from Billy, but he wasn’t as unpleasant as he could’ve been, so it was fine.

She washed the dishes and sat back down at the table reading a magazine when Billy returned once more with his jacket on.

“C’mon.”

“Where’re we going?”

“Somewhere. I can’t leave you here by yourself. Susan and dad would bitch about it.”

Max grabbed her jacket and slipped on some shoes, then followed Billy to his car.

The drive was brief and they stopped at the quarry.

To Max’s surprise, Billy invited her to sit on the hood of his car. He offered her a soda and cracked open a beer for himself.

They clinked their cans together and drank as they quietly watched the early afternoon scenery. 

“It’s surprisingly warm today.” Max initiated small talk. 

“I think the groundhog saw its shadow—or didn’t see its shadow—or whichever meant a late winter.”

“It’s…when he sees his shadow.” She paused. “I think.”

Billy snorted. “Why are we listening to a big ass rodent about the weather anyway?”

Max softly giggled. “Tradition, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.” He mumbled in response as he brought the beer can to his lips.

Silence returned again, and Billy glanced over at Max.

“So y’said Harrington drove you to the record store. That’s like…across town.”

“I wasn’t alone with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dustin and Lucas went too.”

Billy quickly responded with a scoff. “What’s so great about Harrington anyway? You defended him over me that night—“

“Is that what made you so upset?”

“No. But you defended him and I’m asking about it.”

“Well, he’s really nice. He looks after all my friends, everyone around town knows him and his family—“

“So he’s just the opposite of me.”

“W—I—I mean, you’re nice sometimes. You’ve been nice to me 4 times and I remember them all.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the gift, shitbird.”

“You better get me something nice for my birthday too!”

“When is it again? April…may…tember…”

“July.” She snapped.

Billy laughed. “I know when your birthday is, don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not.” She fired back. “You’re just a jerk.”

“And?”

Max scoffed. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday or I’d—“

“You’d what?”

Max chugged her soda and tossed the empty can at Billy.

“You piece of shit. You’re dead!”

Max jumped off the hood of Billy’s car and ran off laughing, with Billy not too far behind. 

When Billy finally caught up to Max, he chugged his beer and tossed the can at Max.

The out of breath siblings glared at one another, before their expressions softened and they began to laugh.

“Hey, d’you wanna go to the movies or something?” Max offered. “I’ll buy you popcorn.”

“And I get to pick the movie?”

Max groaned. “Fine.”

“You know I pick better movies than you do, anyway.”

“Bullshit! Your movie choices suck ass!”

The two bickered all the way back to Billy’s car. Sure, this was a nice day, but Billy couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve Harrington driving his little sister across town to get him a gift.

‘Maybe I should thank him too…’

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 10

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: It’s no longer Halloween, but the ghosts from yours and Eddie’s pasts are coming back to haunt you.

5.7 Words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

You had always heard the phrase “speak of the Devil and he shall appear”, but you didn’t think that line was supposed to be so literal.

You and Eddie starred in shock as your shared connection stood in front of the two of you, smiling at Eddie as if he were an old friend. If Chris noticed any animosity in your faces, it didn’t show. Either he was oblivious, or you and Eddie were good at hiding what you two were feeling right now. 

“I thought I saw you in the lobby earlier.” Chris said, walking over to the two of you, ruining your moment together. “I didn’t think you were one for the theater since you never did come and see the Spring play that I worked so hard on.”

Eddie looked weirded out by this, to say the least. 

“Sorry, I was busy trying to finish the campaign that you started.” Eddie said. “I didn’t exactly have time to go.” 

Well, you were really in the middle of this now. You shifted slightly closer to Eddie, looking over Chris. He was almost unrecognizable from his school photos and how you remembered him on that day. No longer the pale and scrawny kid with the constantly pissy face, Chris was actually smiling and it was honestly off-putting. He looked more tan than he had in school, but there was a faint orange tint to his skin that looked unnatural under the yellow lighting of the marquis. 

A fake tan. That’s what it had to be. Chris was sporting a fake tan for his role as Rocky. 

You should have been Riff Raff. Or not here at all. You thought to yourself. 

“Are you still mad that I left Hellfire?” Chris asked. “That was four years ago! Plus, I handed everything over to you, didn’t I? You got to finally be the Dungeon Master, and I got to find something I enjoyed. I think it’s a fair trade.” 

Eddie still didn’t seem impressed, but kept his mouth shut. Chris turned his attention to you. 

“I’ve seen you before.” he said. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”

You blinked in surprise. There’s no way you would have missed him if he came to this show a lot, right? 

“Yeah, how did you know?” you asked slowly. 

“I’ve been running tech for the show since March.” Chris had a smug look on his face that made your stomach churn. If he was working backstage, that would make sense why you hadn’t seen him before. “And I got to be Rocky for this run. What did you all think of the show?”

“The movie was fun.” Eddie offered, and you had the feeling that he was trying to decide if he should be honest or to let go of what happened four years ago. 

You, however, were more willing to be honest in the moment. “I’ve seen better performances.” you said bluntly. “The movie was fine, but I expected more for the Halloween showing. Half of the shadow cast was completely different than before and they didn’t seem to know their cues. Also, what happened to the Virgin Sacrifice?”

Instead of being off-put, Chris just laughed and shrugged. “There’s been some recent changes to the theater management.” he explained. “It caused a bit of a commotion and there were some disagreements. Unfortunately, things like this happen in live theater. A lot of the cast bailed on the show at the last minute.”

That made sense, as much as it disappointed you. If there was an internal problem with the company running the show, it would end up bleeding out into the performance. You felt your annoyance calm down a little. It’s not like Chis was the one to run the show into the ground. 

“Well, It’s been nice seeing you again.” Eddie said, as his hand slipped into yours again, “We have to get going, it’s getting late.”

You gave Chris a half-hearted wave and a goodbye, but then Chris started talking again right as you two were turning around to leave.

“Just so you know, auditions will be opening for the shadow cast.” He said. “We’re skipping the next two months to get the show back on track. In case either of you are interested.”

You froze in place for a moment and Eddie noticed and dropped your hand. You turned around to look at Chris, wondering if he was being serious right now. 

“Auditions are never open. Even for the understudies.” you said. “I heard that you needed to know someone on the inside to even have a chance at auditioning.”

“Well, we know each other now, don’t we?” he asked with a smile that had too many teeth for your comfort. “I can get you an audition, if you’re really interested. I think you’d be great on stage.” Chris was looking at you up and down, as if considering you. “I can see you as a great Janet.”

“I’ve always wanted to audition.” you finally admitted. “I’ve been wanting to be a part of this show since I started coming here.”

Chris dug into his bag and pulled out a card for the theater, and scribbled down a date and time on the back. “This is when we’re holding auditions. It’s invite only.” he said. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you’re serious.” 

You took the card, looking it over. Maybe you and Eddie had been a little hard on the guy. Chris was right, it had been a long time since he was in high school, and people change. You changed. It’d be pretty hypocritical of you to brush this off completely. Everyone here was an adult, right? And this was something you’d wanted for years now. Could you really just pass this up?

“I’ll be there.” you said, without thinking, and when Chris offered his hand, you reached out and shook it. “Thank you.” you added. 

Chris winked at you and said goodbye to Eddie and turned to leave, leaving you and your date alone outside the theater. By now, almost all of the movie-goers had left and the parking lot was nearly empty save for a few cars. 

“Holy shit.” you said, turning to Eddie when Chris was out of earshot. “I did not expect to run into him tonight. Or ever again.”

Eddie let out a small sharp breath that could have either been a laugh or a sigh. “I thought he just disappeared off the face of the earth when he graduated.” His eyes drifted to the card you held in your hand; the same hand that he had been holding on and off all night. “His hair grew out a lot.”

“Yeah, I think it’s even longer than yours now.” You agreed, tucking away the card into your own bag and turning to fully face him again now.

The mood between you two had shifted from what it had been before Chris interrupted the two of you. Whatever moment the two of you were about to have had passed, and as much as you wanted to kiss Eddie, it wasn’t the time. You didn’t want to force anything after the moment had been ruined. 

Dammit, Chris. Why couldn’t he have shown up before the movie started? Okay, maybe you were still able to feel pissed at the guy. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” Eddie said, and this time you reached out for his hand instead. Chris might have cockblocked your first kiss with Eddie, but you weren’t going to let him completely ruin the night. You didn’t miss the slight squeeze of his hand as you led him towards your car. 

“I know I totally trashed the performance, but I did have a lot of fun with you tonight.” you told Eddie. “Other than him showing up, I really did like spending time with you.”

“Next date, it’s gonna be just us.” he said. “No chaperones and no Chris-es.”

“So, you want to go on another date with me?” you asked, thinking that maybe the moment wasn’t as ruined as you had thought. 

“I’ll call you this weekend.” Eddie promised. 

He leaned in, and you closed your eyes. Warm lips brushed against your cheek, and you tried not to feel too disappointed. It was still something, after all. The two of you hugged, and you breathed in the faint smell of cigarettes, leather, and popcorn. 

“Not if I call you first.” you said, finding that line was starting to be a small inside joke between the two of you. You hoped that there’d be a lot more shared jokes together in the future. 

You got in your car, and made your way home. Despite the small hiccup, you were starting to feel more confident about the future. Things were going well with Eddie, and you finally had the chance to do something you’d had your heart set on for years now. 

Moving forward wasn’t so bad. 

Eddie was torn on how tonight went. You had fun, and you said that you had fun with him. He had been ready to lean in and plant one on you to make this feel more official but then Chris just had to show up and ruin the night. As usual. 

It might not have been as bad if he hadn’t started talking about auditions and that was what made Eddie’s stomach twist. You had been mentioned enough times that this was something you had always wanted to do, and Eddie admired that a lot. He loved that you wanted to be on stage like that, and if you were in the cast he was sure that he’d show up for you, just as you had been showing up for Corroded Coffin. 

But Chris had been the one to make the offer to you with his new muscles and hair that was longer than Eddie’s. Eddie didn’t want to feel jealous, and most of him felt like the two of you had bonded enough over talking shit about the guy that there was no way you’d had an interest in him. 

So why did a smaller voice in the back of Eddie’s head feel like this was starting to crumble already? You had talked about changing and being different since you had been in school, and Chris looked different and had pointed out that he had graduated almost four years ago. 

“You aren’t at Hawkins High and these aren’t children.” you had said when he had been taking in the site of so many people who looked and dressed more like him.

You hadn’t meant anything by it, Eddie was sure of that. You didn’t seem like the type to put someone down for what they were or weren’t able to accomplish. That still didn’t change the fact that he was a 20 year old still in high school, while you and Chris were out in the real world working and living on your own. Presumably. Eddie didn’t know where Chris was living and didn’t care to. 

It was pretty late in the evening now, and he found himself wishing he could call Ronnie right now. Actually, he was starting to wish that he had talked to her earlier, had listened to her and taken her more seriously a few years ago. 

Three more stupid credits and I’m out. That’s what he’d told himself since September when he walked into school for his sixth year in high school. He could coast through most of his classes, and he just needed to push through until June. 

1986. That was going to be his year. He just needed to get through the rest of 1985 first. 

Just as Eddie was about to go and crash in his bed the phone rang. You were the only one who would be calling him this late, and the knot in his stomach only tightened. You hadn’t been judgemental to his face about his education (or lack there-of) but what if it did matter? 

He didn’t think you’d just up and drop him because Chris Morrison of all people showed up with his stupid long hair, offering you something that you wanted so badly. Right? Then again, Eddie hadn’t exactly been the best at communicating with you at all, and he had disappeared on you more than once without notice. Chris hadn’t hesitated with giving you a way to contact him.

Expecting the worst, Eddie tried to remain calm as he reached the kitchen.

“Hey.” Eddie said into the phone, “Get home safe?”

“Eddie?” 

That voice wasn’t yours. The last time Eddie heard that voice, Eddie had been covered in blood and soot in Police Chief Hopper’s office. Her voice had echoed so loud that Hopper had even flinched as she cursed him out for ruining a chance for both of them. 

“Paige?” Eddie asked in disbelief, as if he were talking to a ghost. 

For fuck’s sake, Eddie this isn’t something we can just reschedule I know this was your shot this was my shot I stuck my neck out for you I know I’m at the police station What did you do? No room for a little tarnish, huh? Don’t be an asshole I’ve been an asshole all along, I’m just the last person in Hawkins to accept it Fuck you. 

“I’ve tried calling you a few times but you weren’t home.” Paige said. 

“You could have left a message.” Eddie’s voice was colder than he meant it. First Chris, and now Paige. What sick prank was the universe playing on him today? 

“I figured you wouldn’t call back if I did.” Paige said, honestly. 

The clock in the kitchen read that it was late in Hawkins and not quite as late in California, assuming that is where Paige was. He wanted to hang up the phone, leave her on a dead end line, just as she had done to him almost two years ago. 

Don’t be an asshole. He told himself. What had happened between the two of them had been the perfect shit storm of events. Eddie had flown, reached out towards the sun, only to crash and burn. He had been reminded of what it really meant to have Munson attached to his name.

Eddie had been the one to fuck up, not Paige. 

“I probably wouldn’t have.” Eddie admitted. 

“Are you going to hang up on me now?” 

Eddie paused. “No.”

“Good.”

“You know it’s... really late.”

“I know. I probably should have called you in the morning but I thought it was worth a shot calling tonight. Besides, it’s not like you have school in the morning.” 

He didn’t, but that was only because he was planning on skipping tomorrow because he’d been out so late tonight. 

Eddie’s mind went through a rolodex of anything that Paige Warner would want to talk to him about after all this time. Was she wanting to finally know how he ended up in holding? Had her brother told her about how he was now Freak King Supreme in Hawkins? Shit, did he have an estranged child with her that he didn’t know about? They had always used protection but shit happens and who could blame her from hiding a kid from a guy who she had to bail out of jail and had no money- 

“I’m sorry.” Paige said. “For how things ended between the two of us. A lot happened after you called and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after.”

Eddie blinked and stared at the faded wallpaper of the kitchen, trying to make sense of the apology. She was apologizing? Why?

“I....” Eddie swallowed. “I think I should be the one apologizing here.”

“Oh, you definitely owe me an apology, too.” Despite her words, there was no bite behind it, no malice. “But I’m offering up my apology first as an olive branch.” 

How come ever since that night at the Palace Arcade, everything had started being so weird for Eddie? 

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Eddie asked as he rubbed his face, the evening was starting to catch up to him now. 

“For blowing up at you at 4 am when you needed help.” Paige said. 

“It’s.. It’s fine. I deserved it.” Eddie leaned against the refrigerator and slid down. His gaze drifted up to the popcorn ceiling of the trailer’s kitchen, picking out constellations in the flaky white plaster. 

“Maybe, but I should have heard you out after I had cooled off.” Paige said. 

“So, you’re calling me in the middle of the night two years later just so we can talk about what happened?” Eddie asked. 

“Not completely. I’m calling because I want to give you a second chance.”

“Uhhh.....” Had Eddie heard that correctly? 

“A lot happened with WR Records after you bailed on the audition.” Paige continued. “I don’t want to go into details over the phone, but the short version is Corroded Coffin might have another shot.” 

Oh, it can get weirder. 

“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie sat up straight, gripping the phone with a grip so tight his knuckles were turning white. 

“I’m coming back to Hawkins for a few weeks. I’ll be landing in a few days, and I want to meet up with you to give you more information.” 

Corroded Coffin might have a second chance. Not just Eddie, but his band. When Paige had managed to get Eddie the original audition, she had said that only he would be the one to go to L.A. to play for all the suits in the business. They were only interested in Eddie, not Corroded Coffin. Eddie was real. 

“You mean, my whole band?” he clarified. “Not just me?” 

“Don’t get too excited.” Paige said firmly. “This isn’t nearly as nice of an opportunity as last time. But it is an opportunity. I want to meet up with you alone first to go over the details and explain what’s going on.” 

“Why just me?” 

“Because you’re the selling point, Eddie. You always were.” 

Real. I saw it that night at the Hideout. I saw it years ago at the stupid talent show. You get up there and whatever you play, it’s raw. It’s life or death. And people can feel it.

Had you felt it? Eddie thought back to the two times you had shown up to see him play, you’d looked up at him with an excitement that he’d only ever seen from the rest of his band. Eddie could count on his hands the number of people who he could say were fans of his. Paige had been the first to look at him like he was someone while he was on stage, but she wasn’t the last. 

“When do you land?” Eddie asked. 

“Early Saturday, but I’m spending time with my family for the next few days.” she said. “I’ll call you and let you know when we can meet up.”

“Yeah.. yeah alright. Sounds good.” 

Did it?

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later Eddie. Good night.” 

“Hey, Paige?”

“Yes?”

“...Thanks. For bailing me out back then. I don’t think they would have released me if you hadn’t.” 

“Just don’t do that again, ok?” Paige said. “And you can give me a proper apology when we meet up.” 

Eddie nodded, and then realized he was on the phone and she couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll be there.” he said. 

The dial tone wasn’t as aggressive as it had been that day in Hoppers office, and this time Eddie didn’t slam the phone down on the receiver. Instead he opened up the fridge, stared hard at the six pack of beer, closed the fridge without grabbing one, and went back to his room. He kicked off his shoes, and shrugged off his clothes, and fell face first onto his bed. 

Eddie tried to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours, replaying the events of the night over and over and over again like a bad movie. Seeing you, watching the movie, almost kissing you, Chris showing up, Paige showing up. How could so much happen in the span of less than three hours? 

Paige wanted to talk to him about Corroded Coffin. Eddie was the selling point. There was no way that WR Records was still interested in him, if they were she would have said so and not even brought up the rest of his band.

Shit, what would the rest of the band even say? Only Jeff had been around for the original demo recording that they had all done together. Dougie had left after that year, Ronnie passed her position off to Gareth. 

Face stuffed into his stained pillowcase, he started creating a list of unanswered questions. Why was Paige showing up now? Why was she reaching out to him? Why is she giving Corroded Coffin another shot? Why did Chris have to show up tonight? Could you be attracted to Chris now that he had long hair and wasn’t the scrawny asshole he was in high school? Why did Dustin suggest him to hook you up with? Why did you agree? Why did he care so much that you didn’t remember him? Why did Steve also keep showing up? Why didn’t he kiss you? Wait, did Paige still want to kiss him? Okay, that one at least had to be a no. 

Eddie gave up on sleep when his uncle came home, and heard the faint snoring coming from the pull out couch in the main room. 

With sleep no longer an option for him for the time being, Eddie dug out his notebooks and instead focused on the mountain of song lyrics and notes from over the past few years. With his guitar slung over his shoulder and unplugged, he would be able to work without disturbing Wayne’s sleep. 

Each silent chord and tab that Eddie played whispered through his bedroom. He mouthed along to the words on the pages, his voice occasionally slipping through the cracks as he figured out the rhythm of the lyrics. Playing guitar cleared his head, music always brought everything to the surface one way or another, even if he didn’t realize it. 

As he focused on a specific riff, his fingers and wrist moved over and over in a constant rhythm. Even when he messed up, he didn’t stop the movements of his fingers as they slid along the strings. It was easy, it was challenging, it was meditative. Eddie could finally focus. 

Paige Warner wanted to see him again to discuss Corroded Coffin. Paige was an ex. Sort of. It had been implied that they were going to make it official when he moved to California with her. They were even going to move in together, even if they would have separate rooms. Roommates who sleep together. 

Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t just up and admit that she was an ex girlfriend. Business or not, Eddie was going to have dinner with an ex. 

If he were still the same shitty 18 year old from two years ago, he wouldn’t have thought it was a big deal. Eddie would have had no problem going to see her, and it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind to tell you. But now, as a less shitty 20 year old, he couldn’t do that. You deserved to know who he was going to see if the two of you were going to go on another date. 

He was also going to have to come clean about a lot more than that if things became more serious. That was something that Eddie was dreading. If he told you about Paige, he’d have to tell you about their history together. Telling you that he and Paige had slept together was easy, but what about the rest? How could he explain that she bailed him out of jail after he’d been arrested because a cop was shot on his lawn after two drug mules had burned his house down because Munson and Junior had stolen five pounds of weed from a reefer truck?

Eddie had only told the whole story to one person, and that was Reefer Rick. He hadn’t even had the heart to tell Wayne everything that had happened that Spring out of shame for everything that he’d done. Even Ronnie had been kept in the dark about what happened. 

The sun slowly came up, and his guitar and notebooks were bathed in a warm golden light that contrasted the chill of the beginning of November. Eddie hung his guitar back up and gathered his notebooks, setting them aside for a later time. He laid back down on the bed, and closed his eyes. He decided that the next time the two of you talked, he would be honest about who Paige was and what their main history was. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to dump all of his family trauma on you at once when things were only just starting out. 

It was kind of funny. Eddie had never set out to be anyone's boyfriend. It had never been a priority with him. Even with Paige, he had definitely found her attractive but aside from seeking her out to ask for her help with getting signed, she had been the one to make any move for anything more to happen. He’d been fine with that at the time, but after spending time with you... 

This wouldn’t be easy, but he told himself he wasn’t going to run anymore. When he woke up, he’d call you and tell you exactly what was going on and who he was going to see. Anything about his police record could wait for now. 

With that thought in mind, Eddie was able to finally pass out. 

It was well into the afternoon when Eddie finally woke up again. He pushed through the grogginess and showered, dressed, and shoved a can of instant pasta into his mouth as he flipped through the limited channels on tv. 

About two hours went by before he remembered that you had today off. You’d mentioned that to him during one of your many long phone calls, and he about smacked himself in the head when he realized it. He’d been sitting around and waiting for you to get off work, and you hadn’t even gone in today. 

Eddie held the phone in his hand, his fingers hovering over the dial pad hesitantly before forcing himself to push the digits that would connect the two of you again. 

You answered on the third ring. 

“No Hellfire today?” you asked. 

“Not this time, everyone bailed out early for fall break.” Eddie said. “We did our Halloween special yesterday.”

“Tell me about it?” 

Eddie felt himself nearly melting into a pile of goo at the words. You always asked about his campaigns and his band, taking an interest in a way that no one ever had before. There was a lot that he had to tell you, but.. He could at least give you this before he gave you the real reason why he called. 

You listened as he told you about how the party went up against a pumpkin creature that had been attacking the town. It was a module he had made himself, and that he’d been working on for the past month between the main story of the campaign. You laughed and gasped at all the right moments, sealing the idea that Eddie was going to make a one-shot for you specifically to play. He couldn’t wait to help you make a character and add you to his table. 

Assuming you would even want anything to do with him after what he was about to tell you.

“Sounds like a Scooby Doo episode.” you said, as he finished his tale. 

“More like Goober and the Ghost Chasers.” Eddie smiled, taking his usual seat in front of the fridge. 

The two of you talked, and it was far too easy to get lost in all of the conversations that he had with you. Every time he told himself to suck it up and tell you who he was planning on seeing, you’d ask him something and the two of you would be off on another tangent. 

But then Eddie found his opening, and it was time to talk. 

“I’ll be at the Hideout again next week.” you said. “I’m really looking forward to hearing that song you keep hinting at. How many original songs are you hiding from me?” 

“We have almost seven by now, but no one wants to hear them.” Eddie lied, knowing full well there had been at least one person before who did. 

“I want to.” 

Two people. 

Fuck, he needed to tell you. 

“So... speaking of Corroded Coffin,” he said carefully. “We actually almost had a chance to audition for WR Records.”

“Hole shit.” you gasped into the phone. “What happened? I would have thought any record company would be tearing down the door to get you to sign with them. Or, oh, were they too mainstream? Did they want you to sell out? Change everything about you? Did you tell them to shove it, and that you wanted to make real music?” 

Eddie couldn’t help but snort into the phone, suppressing a laugh. “Nah, we uh... well we made a demo tape and sent it in, and they wanted us- me. They wanted me to audition.”

“Just you...?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picked at a loose fray in the tear in his jeans. “They didn’t really like Corroded Coffin, but they did like me. But I blew my chance, and never made it to the audition.”

“Shit, Eddie... that sucks.” you said sympathetically. “What happened?” 

Eddie was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out how to explain to you what happened.

“Eddie?” you asked after he didn’t say anything. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to get into it.”

“I fucked up.” He finally admitted. “I did something stupid, and it stopped me from making it to California for the audition. That was two years ago. And last night I just got news that Corroded Coffin might be having another shot at something.”

“Wait really? That’s incredible that they still want to talk to you! And you said it was for the whole band this time? Not just you?”

“I don’t think it’s WR Records this time but a talent scout found me and is wanting to talk about Corroded Coffin?”

“There was a talent scout at the Hideout?”

“No.... my uh.. My ex.” 

The silence between the two of you was deafening. For a few seconds, the world went completely still, and silent. Eddie always hated silence. 

“Oh.” you said after a while, and Eddie could tell you were trying to process what he had just said. “So your ex wants to talk to you about your band?”

Your voice sounded neutral, almost too casual, and Eddie hated that too. “She- Paige- she was the one to give Corroded Coffin a chance. She paid for the demo herself, sent it to her boss, and got the audition slot for me. But I fucked up, ended up locked up for a few hours, and everything fell apart.”

Eddie wished that he could see your face, would you look at him with sympathy? Disgust? Would you suddenly look at him like everyone else in town? 

“That sounds like a lot.” You said. 

“Not gonna ask me what I was in for?” 

“Do you want to tell me?”

“...Not yet.”

“Are you on some sort of list?”

“No.”

“Did you kill someone?” 

“I don’t think I’d be let out if I did.”

“Good point. Alright. Then I’ll trust you that you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Trust. You trusted him. When was the last time he had anyones trust?

“Paige wants to give Corroded Coffin another chance.” Eddie said. “She wants me to meet up with her to give me details. I don’t know what she’s planning on offering but-”

“She bailed you out of jail and is offering you something you always wanted?” You asked, and he could hear something in your voice that sounded almost like defeat. “You should go. It’s clear that the two of you have a history that you two need to work though. And if she’s offering you and Corroded Coffin a chance, you have to take it, right?”

The way you said ‘right’ made him wonder if you were asking something more than just his current situation. 

Why was it that every time you two started to find your footing together, things slipped up? How could things constantly be so weird with you when this should have felt easy? What force in the universe out there kept dangling good things in front of Eddie just to take them away as a cruel joke? 

“Right.” Eddie said, sounding just about as sure as he felt about this. He didn’t even know what this was. 

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it sounds like it’s complicated and you two need to talk about it.” you said. “Just let me know what’s going on after, okay?” 

Eddie knew what you really meant. Let me know if this is going anywhere or if you’re going to get back with your ex.

That was a thought he didn’t even want to entertain. It already seemed to be impossible that Paige wanted to talk to him again, let alone date again. 

“I will.” He would. “I’ll let you know when we’re meeting up and what she says.” 

“I have my audition next Saturday.” you added. “And Robin and Steve and I are going to have a movie night later this week to hang out. But, I’ll still be at the Hideout if you all are still playing and not signed by then.”

You were joking with him, and he took that as a sign that maybe he didn’t completely fuck up.

“We’ll be there.” Eddie said. “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday then.”

“See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 

With the phone hook back on the receiver, Eddie took a deep breath. 

Just when things are starting to get good, huh?

a/n:

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288

[chaoticharrington]

Chapter Two: The Ticket and Your Shitty Car

***THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND BLOCK. DM/ASK FOR ANY QUESTIONS THANKS!<3***

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lots of angst (sorry folks), mentions of anxiety and bullying, cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being sexy, kissing 👀, Reader is in their mid 20s and Steve and Eddie are in their early to mid 40s. Lemme know if i've missed anything.

Summary: After a few weeks of getting closer to Eddie and Steve feelings bubble to the surface

Authors Note: I'm so excited for this chapter and the rest of the series i've been having so much fun writing this! I've never written angst before so i'm interested in the response it'll get! And I pinky promise ya'll are getting smut in the next chapter 😈 7k words

**Chapter One Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five**

(banners and headers by @cafekitsune)

A couple days had gone by since your first interactions with the two men that have been plaguing both your waking thoughts and your dreams. You’ve woken up more than once this week from your body buzzing and your panties soaked through. Lips on skin, rough hands on your hips, deep voices whispering in your ear. Groaning yourself fully awake and grabbing your vibrator to finish the job, that isn’t nearly as good as whatever was happening in your dreams.

Because of these dreams it made it impossible to look at Steve during class, only looking when you absolutely had to. Avoiding Mr. Munson was a bit easier, he either wasn’t home much when you were with Violet, or he was in the garage. You convinced yourself that you would just eventually get over your little crushes, and if you just avoided them long enough then things would go back to normal, and you’d have your sanity back.

But things didn’t quite work out that way. After you had gotten your ticket on the first day, you decided you would just pay it off yourself, to avoid another possibly embarrassing interaction with Steve. You had your parking pass now so you wouldn’t get another ticket. But you had a busy week with assignments and kept forgetting to take care of it. By the end of the week, you had completely forgotten about it, until Fridays sociology class. It was a normal class; Steve was talking about the theoretical approach to sociology. At the end of class, you were supposed to hand in your paper on Social Darwinism, you had spent many late nights making sure that this paper specifically was perfect. The problem was that when you were meant to hand it in at the end of class, you couldn’t find it, and you were starting to panic. Almost all the other students had left or were in the process of handing in their papers and you were left anxiously digging through your bookbag.

“Oh, how the tables turn, need some help there?”

You freeze, looking up from the familiar black converse that you could see next to your bookbag. Your anxious eyes are met with playful honey brown ones, that make you relax slightly.

“Sorry no I’m good I know it’s in here somewhere,” you reply a little anxious. You didn’t want your professor to think that this was any reflection of you as a student or your work ethic.

Steve watches you dig through your bag for another few seconds when you finally find it, in a folder you don’t remember putting it in. When you get the folder out of your bookbag, the ticket sitting at the bottom of your bag falls out onto the floor right at Steves feet. You’re too busy to notice, trying to make sure all of the pages of your paper are in order, and you have all your sources. When you finally look up from the papers in front of you, you see Steve holding the ticket that you got on the first day of school.

You panic and look up and into his eyes, he doesn’t look mad, but he looks confused. “I thought I told you I’d fix this for you if you ever got a ticket. Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.

“I- I didn’t want to bother with you something so silly, I was going to pay it, but with a bunch of papers due, I just forgot I’m sorry,” you blurt out.

Steve raises his hand to silence your apologies casually, and you’re ready for him to yell at you or at the very least be disappointed in you.

Shit, why did you not just pay it the day you got it?

“It’s not your fault honey, there’s no need for you to apologize, okay?” he says warmly. Your shoulders relax a bit more, his voice giving you reassurance.

“I swear I really did mean to pay it, I just didn’t want to bother you,” you confess.

Steves eyes soften. “Y/N you are never a bother, plus it's my fault for being the worst teacher in history and not giving you a parking pass.” He jokes.

“Steve you’re one of my favorite teachers, nowhere near my list of worst teachers.” You reveal.

He smiles widely and raises his eyebrow; you swear you can feel your insides thaw. With the playful look on his face, he almost seems younger, you could only imagine how attractive he was when he was younger, even just a glimpse is enough to make your stomach do flips.

“Oh so there IS list? Well, I demand to know where I am on your favorite teachers list, maybe it’ll give me motivation to try harder in class.” He winks at you in retort. You swear you could cum in your pants right now, how dare he be so beautiful and perfect, and funny.

You think hard for a second, you can’t put him first you think his ego probably couldn’t handle it, also it would just bring you more embarrassment. But he very easily is your favorite teacher, he makes jokes during class, makes sure his lectures are easy to understand and enjoyable, and seems to genuinely care about all his students, it’s very hard to rank any teacher above him.

“I hope your ego can handle it Steve, but you’re second.” you gush.

“You wound me, SECOND? That’s basically failure I demand to know who could possibly rank higher than me?” he jokingly stands up straighter, adjusts his tie, and holds his hand to his heart.

Damn, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Uh, Professor Buckley, my Gender Studies Professor, I love her class,” you confess.

Steves eyes couldn’t roll farther back into his head even if he tried, you almost worried that they’d get stuck.

“You’re telling me, my best friend has already won you over? I’ve sat in on some of her classes and there is no way that Robin is funnier than I am!” he exclaimed as he puts his hands on his hips.

“You know Professor Buckley.. er Robin? Also, you definitely top her in the funny department, how did I know you wouldn’t be satisfied with second.” you retort easily. You could get used to this, the casual flirting, smiling with your professor, it felt easier than breathing. Once you got over the fact that he was one of the most handsome men that you’ve ever seen in your whole life.

“Know her? She’s been my best friend since high school, and a major pain in my ass. Second place is basically losing, everyone knows that babe.” The pet name slipped off his tongue so effortlessly.

Your eyes must have gone wide because Steve looks slightly embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.

Babe babe babe babe babe babe babe HE CALLED YOU BABE

“Well then I guess you gotta step it up Professor.” you reply, trying to ease the tension in the room.

He smiles at you gratefully, “yeah I guess so,” he chuckles.

“Anyways I don’t want to keep you again for the second time this week, I’ll see you in class on Monday Steve.” you say as you go to stand up and walk past him. You’re about halfway to the door before you hear him call out.

“Hey, wait up, uh why don’t you come with me to my office so I can get that parking ticket taken care of for you,” he explains.

“You sure? I don’t want to make you late for your next class.”

“I’m the one who got you into this mess, please let me help you fix it?” he asks gently.

“Lead the way professor,”you answer playfully.

He smiles that flashy Steve Harrington smile and shows you the way towards his office.

“It’s just down this hallway,” he shares.

Then you feel him put his hand at the small of your back guiding you into a room on the righthand side, his touch lights your body on fire. It takes everything in you not to lean into his touch. You can smell his cologne, now that you’re so close to him. It’s a fairly clean scent with hints of musk and spice at the end, a more modern scent then you expected from a man his age. It only makes you want him more, to lean in closer and smell his scent mixed with the cologne.

You’re snapped out of your daze when Steve picks up the phone receiver and punches in a phone number. His fingers almost covered the buttons on the phone, and it made your legs squeeze together, thinking back to the multiple dreams you had about those specific fingers all over you. Steve looks up at you smiling lightly, surely just trying to fill the silence that filled the room. You hoped he hadn’t magically learned how to read minds in the short walk from his classroom to his office or you’d be toast.

His office wasn’t anything glamorous, it was an average size, with a nice desk and comfy looking chair, and big window with a view that overlooked the campus. The only thing making it uniquely his are the loads of pictures of him and Professor Buckley, and a few other guys and girls that looked around his age or maybe a bit younger. Documenting various birthdays, weddings, and get togethers.

While Steve is on the phone you take a moment to look at them, you see a picture of Steve being Professor Buckleys best man in her wedding to a pretty woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. They all looked so happy, it made you smile, it looked like a really special day. Also noting that there are no wedding photos of him or pictures of him with a girlfriend, making your heart internally soar.

When you finally tear your eyes away from the photos, you hear the end of a conversation Steve is having with someone on the phone.

“Thanks again Reg, I promise it won’t happen again. Yeah, you too, take care. Say hi to the wife and kids for me," he said.

He puts down the receiver and looks at where you’re standing, and gestures to the photo you’re looking at.

“Yeah, Robins wedding! It was a really great day,” he reminisces. He goes onto explain that Robin ended up marrying his ex from High School, Nancy Wheeler. You smile and nod along to the anecdotes he talks about that day, trying to absorb everything he tells you about his life like a sponge.

“And by the end of the night Lucas and Max lead everyone in a impromptu sing-a-long to Never Ending Story, It was hilarious,” He says. You could combust, you can see just how clearly he loves his friends and how much they mean to him. He shakes his head and smiles wide at the memory, his smile being infectious, you smile back at him.

“Sounds like really good time Steve,” you reply.

“Yeah, it was, it really was.” he shares, he seems a little lost in thought for a moment before smiling up at you. “Sorry I don’t mean to bore you with my stories of the old days, I don’t get to gush about the people I love very often, so its nice to have someone listen," He confessed.

Your heart melts, he’s such a sweetheart. “No no please, I enjoy hearing them, makes you more a person than just my teacher. Plus, maybe at some point you’ll slip up and tell me something embarrassing about yourself. Then you’re done for Harrington,” you jab.

     He raises his eyebrows at you and looks impressed. “That’ll never happen, I’ve never done anything embarrassing in my life ever,” he states sarcastically.

     “Well, I’ll just have to ask Professor Buckley, my favorite teacher, about it won’t I?” you interject.

     His face goes from his handsome boyish grin to fake terror in a split second, “I will give you whatever grade you want in my class if you don’t do that, she’d go on for hours, might even keep you after class just to rub it in my face.”  

     You could tell that there was some truth to his words, and you know your gender studies professor well enough to know that she really would just rip him a new one. You giggle back at him, unable to keep it in.

“She really would tear you to shreds, wouldn’t she?” you cackle. His face softens, “Yes she’s evil, just awaiting my downfall I swear!” he smiles softly at you.

You both look at each other a bit longer before Steve clears his throat. “Anyways um, I talked to the guy in campus security and you’re good to go, you don’t have to pay the ticket,” He spoke.

You had honestly completely forgotten that was the reason you were even in his office; his demeanor makes you feel at home in your own skin and were just happy to not have anxious thoughts rolling around inside of your head.

“Oh, right yeah, thank you so much, you really didn’t need to go through all this trouble for me,” you said.

“No trouble at all, really. I should probably get going though, my next class starts soon.” he explained looking at the very expensive looking watch on his wrist.

You try your best not to show your disappointment, wishing to stay in this little bubble with him a bit longer.

“Of course, yeah. Thank you again Steve,” you respond.

He leads you back out the door with his hand on your back again, maybe this time a bit firmer than the last, and you weren’t complaining. You both wave your goodbyes for the weekend before you head out to the parking lot, and he heads towards his next class.

You were relieved to be going home, this first week of school has tested you mentally and emotionally and you were ready for a little break. You hop in your car, and twist your key in the ignition, but to your surprise, instead of your car roaring to life like it usually does. It just stalled, unable to start. You try the ignition a few more times before you rest your head on your steering wheel.

Just your fucking luck

You take your phone out of your jean pocket and call Violet to see if she knows any good mechanics in the area. But you only get her voicemail. “Come on Vi,”you mutter to yourself, trying her cell again and again. Only to get her voicemail each and every time. You couldn’t very well leave your car in the parking lot overnight, then you’d surely get another ticket. But what other option did you have?

You make the decision to call Violet’s home phone, thinking maybe she’s too engrossed in a TV show or something to see her phone going off. It rings a few times before someone picks up.

“Munson residence.” a deep familiar voice answers the phone.

Shit

“Hi Mr. Munson, is Vi there?” you reply.

“Nah she left about an hour or two ago to head to work, everything okay?” he asks a slight concern in his voice.

“Oh uh yeah, my- my car just isn’t starting and I don’t know any mechanics in the area who could come and take a look at it,” you respond anxiously

You hear what you assume is him blowing out some smoke from his mouth, you shake your head trying to stay on track.

“Any mechanic out here is gonna charge you an arm an a leg to come look at your car right before the weekend, let me come and take a look at it myself,” he suggests.

Your body runs cold, you couldn’t deal with another interaction with BOTH of them in the same day again, you’d burst into flames.

“Oh gods no that’s really okay Mr. Munson. I’ll just leave my car here overnight its no big deal, I’ll just walk home its not that far,” You babble anxiously.

You hear him scoff on the other end of the phone, “What do you mean walk home? Where are you Y/N?” his tone getting a bit more serious than the lighthearted goofy tone you usually get from him.

“I’m at school, it’s fine really, my apartment isn’t that far from-,” you squeak.

“Let me just grab my tools and I’ll meet you in the parking lot, which building are you in front of?” he interjects, you can hear some rustling on the other end of the phone.

“I-,“ you think about arguing with him but you know that in the end Mr. Munson is a stubborn man and you will lose. “I’m in front of the Humanities and Social Sciences building, its right by-,“ you confess.

He chuckles “Oh yeah I know the one, be there in a sec, hang tight.” he says before hanging up the phone.

You bring your phone down onto your lap in defeat. You hide in your car until you see his car pull up, you don’t need anyone seeing you, especially a certain sociology professor. His big black truck pulls into the space next to you, and you get out of your car to greet him.

“Hey thanks for coming all the way out here, I hope I didn’t take you away from anything or anyone,” you look up at him innocently. He stands about a foot away from you, but even then, you could see just how much taller he is than you. He could probably use you as an arm rest.

He gives you an easy-going smile, “No problem at all sweetheart, I’m happy to help!” You give him the keys and he goes to try and start the car and it stalls again and he clicks his tongue.

Your mind going back to the dreams you’ve had of his tongue on you, on your skin. You shiver at the thought, and you squeeze your arms around you willing yourself not to fall apart.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with opening the hood and looking inside. He takes off his leather jacket and lays it on top of the hood and rolls up his sleeves. He fiddles around inside of the hood for a few seconds before popping his head around the corner.

“Looks like your spark plug is shot, I have an extra on me in case of emergencies, it’s your lucky day pretty lady,” He announces cheerily.

Pretty lady

“Oh, thank you Mr. Munson, you’re a life saver!” you beam.

He looks at you again one more time, studying you for the second time this week, he looks like he’s contemplating something in his head. His eyes are like lasers on your skin, heating you up from the inside.

“It’s Eddie, you can call me Eddie honey, you’ve known me long enough.” he says as he smiles at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling.

You can’t help but smile back, “Okay, thanks, E-eddie,” you stammer out. His name feeling so odd on your tongue, he’s your best friend’s dad, would Violet think its weird that you call him by his first name now?

He smiles contently like he made the right decision and goes back to working on your car. You lean against his car just watching him work, seeing how his hands knowingly move on all the parts of your car that you don’t even know the names of, only being able to identify the windshield wiper fluid cap and oil fill cap. You look at his now uncovered arms that you didn’t see the last time you got a good look at him, you could see right near his left wrist Violets name tattooed in beautiful cursive, and D20 right above his left elbow. You see how veiny his hands and arms are, probably due to years of playing the guitar and working on various motorcycles and cars.

“So, what are you going to school for?” he says, looking at you through the corner of his eye while he works.

“Psychology mostly,” you reply easily.

“What do you want to do with it? Your degree?” he responds.

“I’d love to work with kids, I felt like no one ever listened to me as a kid, so I’d love to be able to be a safe space for kids to express themselves.” You shared, this was something you’ve been passionate for a while, wanting to work with kids. Giving them something that you never got when you were a kid, a place where they felt understood even if they didn’t feel like that at home.

He looks up at you from his work with an impressed look on his face, “That’s really fucking cool Y/N, I wish stuff like that had been around when I was a kid. Woulda made Middle School and High School a lot more bearable for me, trust me.”

Your heartbreaks at his confession, you figured that he probably wasn’t always the suave sexy metal head that he is now, and he probably got teased a lot when he was a kid. It reminded you of your own experiences in school, teased and never really fitting in anywhere. Violet went through something similar except it never really seemed to bother her, she was always the type of kid that always knew who she was and didn’t let anyone get in her way. You always admired that about her.

“Honestly me too,” you confess.

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you, “No way, You and Vi had loads of friends in Middle School,” he says.

“Yeah, in Middle School sure, but high school was brutal without her there, kids are mean.” You say sadly, rubbing your boot into the asphalt trying to wash away depressing memories of eating in the bathroom and crying yourself to sleep at night.

Eddie scrunches his eyebrows together and nods knowingly, sharing that feeling. “Yeah, teenagers are fucking assholes.”

You nod knowingly, as Eddie steps around the front of your car to get into the driver’s seat, scootching closing to you, grabbing the side of your waist as he passes you. You take a shallow breath, and your mouth runs dry. His hand felt so perfect on your waist, like it belonged there… and then your mind wanders to Steve, his touch felt the same way.

Eddie got into the front seat and turned your key in the ignition, and sure enough your car roared to life.

“Huzzahh!” Eddie cheered, getting out of the driver’s seat and bowing to you. A smile plastered across his face in triumph.

“There ya go honey good as new, although you should stop by the house sometime, so I can put a new battery in your car, it looks like it’s about to take a shit on you, and I want you to be safe during the Winter.” He says casually wiping the oil and grease off his fingers with the rag in his tool kit.

He wants you to be safe

“That would be great, thank you again, honestly I don’t know what I would have done without you. What do I owe you Eddie?” you ask. Surely, he’d want some compensation for driving all the way out here on a Friday, probably ruining his plans to come help his daughters best friend with her car.

“On the house, and don’t fight me on this I’m not accepting any money from you.” He says slightly stern but in a way that makes you smile lightly.

“I’ll figure out a way to make it up to you or something, do you like cookies? I’ll bake you some cookies for all your help,” you insist.

“IF you happen to make double chocolate chip cookies and bring them over to the house, for Violet of course, I wouldn’t say no to one or two,” he says slyly.

“I’ll bring them over this weekend.” you say determined to not be in debt to him.

He packs his tools back into the trunk of his truck and shrugs his leather jacket back on, “I’ll hold you to that sweetheart.” he winks at you before getting back into his truck and waving to you as he drives off the lot.

You get back into your newly fixed car and drive home to your apartment, first thing on the agenda, a very cold shower.

The next few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind of epic proportions. Steve came back with your grades for your latest paper, and when yours got passed to you, at the top of your paper, “SEE ME AFTER CLASS” was written in blue pen. After class he explained that he was “very impressed” with your work and effort you spent on your paper and asked you to be his TA and help him a couple of days a week. Help him with grading papers, answering any questions your classmates had on assignments or class subjects, and help with lectures for upcoming classes. You couldn’t have said yes faster, not only did you have a huge massive crush on him. But you genuinely enjoyed his class and were excited to prove yourself. On those days you spent most of the time after your classes, spent huddled in his office with him grading papers or talking about different upcoming subjects you were going to learn in class. It was becoming one of your favorite parts of your day, you always left his office in the best mood. Plus, the flirting and your attraction to him only grew during this time, you noticed he started going more and more out of his way to touch you, or holding eye contact with you longer than was probably appropriate. You welcomed it, Steve made you feel like you were on cloud nine, some nights the two of you were left in his office until after dark, after all the work was done, just flirting and talking about life. Eating shitty takeout food that he’d grab from the cafeteria or the two of you would order in.

He always treated you with respect letting you talk about your feelings or whatever was on your mind, you eventually opening up to him about why you wanted to go into psychology, and he opened up to you about how he hadn’t always been the way he is now, and how there are parts of his past he’s ashamed of. The two of you bonded over your lack of family you had in your life, you told him about your parents basically ditching you after graduation and he told you about how his parents cut him off when he told them what decided what he wanted to do with his life and hadn’t heard much from him since. He reassured you that the only family that actually mattered was your chosen family and the people who love you that you let into your little corner of the world. You talked about your views on the world and your dreams. You liked that about him, that he listened to you and how modest and genuine he is, you assumed at first glance that someone with good looks like him and his upbringing he’d have an large ego. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, but not in a bad way. You’d come to really like Steve Harrington, he had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match.

Which made it even more confusing on the days that you didn’t spend in his office. See you had saved up enough money for school and your expenses for the first couple of weeks, but that money only stretched so far. So, you looked for a job, and you became desperate. Being in a college town, good jobs that weren’t already taken by other college students were far and few between and being a TA wasn’t enough. So, one night after school when you were at Violets, Eddie overheard you talking about your dilemma, and offered you a job working for him. Eddie worked as a record producer and worked closely with a few music managers who were looking for social media manager. Which you happily accepted, there were no set hours and you could do a majority of your work in your pjs at home unless you needed to get Eddies opinion on something then you’d spend time out in the garage with him while he gave you advice or things the label is looking for in terms of the clients image or engagement numbers you needed to hit.

Sometimes you’d even make up excuses just to go over and spend time with him in the garage. He was patient with you while you slowly opened up to him about things that had happened over the past few years that you never wanted to worry Violet with, cheating boyfriends, bad friends, financial problems, and he took it all with stride, listening to and giving advice where he could. He’d spend time reminiscing about the “glory days” when his band, Corroded Coffin, used to play gigs every weekend at the hideout, a small bar on the outside of town. Or when he was in high school, he ran a club in school called the Hellfire Club where all his friends would play DnD, he even showed you that he got Hell Fire tattooed across his knuckles. You’d spend hours over there just tucked away in Eddies little corner of the house, sometimes he’d play songs for you on his guitar, or when he found out you had never played DnD he spent a few nights teaching you all the basics in case you ever wanted to play. You liked the way you felt when you were around Eddie, in a similar way that Steve did, Eddie quieted your thoughts of self-doubt and anxiety that usually swirled around in your head. You really liked Eddie, and it made your feelings even more confused because you felt guilty keeping all of this from Violet. You didn’t know how she would react to you having a crush on her dad, and you never wanted to put your friendship with her in danger. She was basically the only family you had, and you intended to keep it that way, even if it meant keeping your crush on her father a secret.

It all came to a head about a month later. You were staying late in Steve’s office grading papers while he was reading over some scientific studies that he was going to go over in class that following week. You were reading over a specific paper, a girl who sat behind you in class, who giggled at Steve during the first day of class. She had a lot of typos in her paper, and you had a hard time following her methods and asked for Steves opinion. He got up from his desk and went over to the other side of his desk where you were sitting, hovering over you so his face was close to yours. You loved when he did this, being able to see the honey bits in his eyes or the way his eyebrows scrunch together when he was thinking really hard, or how he ran his tongue along his lips to wet them.

 For some reason the air in the room seems extra electrified, the tension being so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your breath hitched as he got extra close to read a specific part in the paper, you could smell his cologne so clearly it was intoxicating. Steve turned to you to tell you what points to dock from her paper, but you didn’t hear a single word he was saying, it was all drowned out by the lust you felt for him. You think he could sense it too, his eyes kept flickering between your eyes and your lips.

Oh gods was this really happening?

You could see his face getting closer and closer to yours, you closed your eyes, bracing for impact. Your heart was beating faster than you ever thought humanly possible. And then, he kissed you. More intensely than you’d ever been kissed before, he started out soft, testing the waters. Slowly brushing his lips against yours, working up intensity until his tongue prodded your lips asking for an invitation in. The invitation happily accepted by you, you welcomed him in with your lips and sighed into the kiss, allowing your hand to grasp at the hairs at the nape of his neck. He held onto the side of your face like if he let go, you’d vanish. You kissed like this for a minute or two, lips melding together and tongues intertwining. He tasted like his spearmint gum that he chews sometimes, and his lips were softer than you ever thought humanly possible.

But as quickly as it started, it stopped. Steve de-tangled himself from your grip and stood back.

“Fuck, holy shit, I- Y/N I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that. I’m your teacher for Christ’s sake… FUCK!” he shouted.

You jump at the volume of his voice, you were not used to this Steve, or the tone he was using. He paced around the room for a few minutes, and you looked at your shoes embarrassed. Embarrassed because you weren’t sorry it happened. You had been dreaming for weeks about what his lips would feel like or what he'd taste like.

“I’m not Steve, you don’t need to be sorry because.. because I wanted it to happen, I’ll only be your student for a few more months and then after that we can do whatever we want,” you blurt out in desperation. Allowing the thoughts and dreams that hide in your head to spill out of your mouth. Steve sighs and sits back down in his chair, taking his glasses off his face and pinching the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and thumb.

“I- I think you should just go Y/N, I need to figure out what to do. This shouldn’t have happened and I’m sorry it did,” he murmurs.

His words act like daggers in your heart, stealing all the breath from your lungs. All the worst-case scenarios that played out in your head when you felt insecure, now playing out right in front of you. You were angry, you know he feels the same way but he’s too much of a coward to do anything about it.

“Fuck you Steve, fuck you!” you bite out through your teeth, not allowing the tears to flow from your eyes, just yet. He just rejected you, the last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry. You pack up all the things that had been splayed-out all over Steve’s desk, shoving them into your bookbag, and storming out of the room.

Before you’re even out of the building the tears start streaming down your face, you choke back sobs as you get into your car. You bury your head in your hands, your shoulders shaking from how hard you were crying. You can’t go home, you thought. Not to an empty apartment where it’s even more apparent just how alone you are.

You put the key into the ignition and go to the only other place in town that you can think of going to, Violet’s house. You prayed to any god that could hear you, that Violet was home, but Eddie was not. You did not want him to see you like this, especially over a guy. He’d heard all the pathetic stories of love that hadn’t worked out you didn’t need to add another to the list.

Somehow luck was on your side with this, Eddie’s car was not in the driveway, only Violets. You get out of the car, not even bothering to lock it and run up to the door and let yourself inside with the key Violet had given you after your first week in Hawkins. Tears still streaming down your face, you take in your new surroundings; Violet was sitting on the couch watching some dumb rom com and eating popcorn. She looks startled by the sudden intrusion and the state you were in. Your mascara all smudged, and you had tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N? What happened?” she coos. She gets off the couch and walks over to you, her face softens when she gets closer to you, her face now shrouded in worry. She pulls you fiercely into a hug and just lets you cry on her shoulder. Eventually she brings you over to the couch and she gets you to tell her the events that have unfolded. She listened intently while you told her about your professor and how you felt about him, and then about how he rejected you after a mind-blowing kiss. She held your hand the entire time, rubbing soothing circles into your hand.

Just as you had finished telling her what happened you heard the familiar jingle of the doorknob and the heavy boots that followed. You couldn’t look at him right now, not when you looked like this.

“Hey, hey party people, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight I shoulda got more beer from the store!” Eddie sang. The closer Eddie got to you he realized something was off and stopped in his tracks.

“Now’s not a good time dad,” Violet said, still focusing her attention on you.

“What happened? Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen with your car?” his questions flying by you a million miles a minute. Too exhausted to say anything you let Violet speak for you.

“She kissed a guy at school, and he rejected her,” Violet says as softly as she can.

“Y/N kissed a guy at school?” he said, you could hear an edge in his voice that made you flinch slightly.

“Yes, dad god did you have to repeat it? She’s been through enough tonight. Come Y/N lets go upstairs.” She says clearly annoyed with her dad’s lack of empathy.

You couldn’t bear to look at Eddie, so you allow Violet to usher you upstairs into her room. You two cuddle up in her bed, she lets you borrow some clothes to spend the night in and gives you a makeup wipe to wash the mascara and mostly cried off eyeliner off your face. You felt so taken care of by her, you remember you used to do this for her in Middle School when boys would be shitheads to her, it took a lot to break Violet, but boys are the worst.

At some point Violet fell asleep when you guys were listening to a true crime podcast, you felt your tummy grumble and slowly slipped out of her room to find a snack in the kitchen. You were so worked up after the incident with Steve you had forgotten to eat something more than a few handfuls of popcorn. Downstairs was more quiet than usual, you couldn’t hear soft metal music coming from the garage or Eddies light humming. You assumed maybe he had gone out for the night.

     Until he scared the shit out of you sitting at the kitchen table, silently. He looked upset, nursing a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

“Holy fuck you scared me, warn a woman, jeez!” you say, sounding a little more like your normal self when your alone with him. Usually, Eddie would retort with a smart-ass remark, but instead you got silence and a slight sad smile on his face. You sense he’s not in the mood, so you move farther into the kitchen to grab yourself an iced tea from the fridge and make yourself a sandwich.

It was usually never this awkward between the two of you, it broke your heart a bit. You just lost Steve and now it felt like you were losing Eddie too.

“Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?” he asked quietly.

You jumped a little not expecting him to speak. Trying to word things very carefully so there was no confusion.

“He kissed me and then I kissed him back, and then he broke off the kiss and told me to leave.” You sigh sadly and take a big gulp of your iced tea.

“Idiot.” he muttered under his breath.

You thought that’s what you heard but you didn’t know for certain.

“What?” you question.

“I said he’s an idiot.” he said a bit louder for you to hear clearly.

That made your aching heart flutter inside your chest. Men are impossible to read.

“Oh.” you murmur, not really sure what to say.

“He’s an idiot because I’d never let a girl like you go,” he says calmly.

You heart could beat outside of your chest right now, his words set your skin on fire. But you were simultaneously hit with overwhelming guilt. Violet. Your best friend. The one sleeping soundly upstairs who would never do anything to hurt you.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot more at stake here,” You say trying to tread lightly.

He abruptly pushes out of his chair and heads to the garage door. “Yeah I know.” he says, sounding a mix between disappointed and angry.

You could feel a new rush of tears welling in your eyes, not only did you lose Steve today, but you were going to lose Eddie too. Two out of your three safe spaces, gone in one day. You felt so small, like you were free falling and you couldn’t grab anything to save yourself.

“What do you want from me Eddie?” you say defeated, barely above a whisper.

Eddie stops at your words, opening up the door to the garage, so close to freedom. His eyes now soft, seeing the state of you. “Nothing sweetheart, I want nothing from you.”

You just nod at his words, slouching your shoulders trying to protect your broken heart. Willing yourself to accept the fact that you lost both of them today, and there’s nothing that you can do to change it. You look at the floor, watching your tears slowly cloud your vision. You just hoped he left the room before you start actually crying.

Then you hear the garage door shut and feel the last of your heart shatter with it. You look up to confirm what your heart already knew, that Eddie was gone.

But where a closed door should be, showed the outline of Eddie standing in front of a closed door. You tried to blink away the tears, to try and figure out if you were seeing things correctly. The look on Eddies face was between a mixture of pain and confliction, his fists squeezed at his sides.

“Fuck it.” is the last thing you hear him say before he takes long strides over to you in the kitchen. Now right in front of you he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you firmly. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to stay. His calloused hands wiping away your tears. You moan into his touch, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to dance with yours. He kisses you with such passion, showing you with actions he what couldn’t say with his words. You push him impossibly closer to you, willing the two of you to meld into one if that what it took, not letting him have the chance to leave you. He takes that as an invitation to lift you up and put you on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Your legs caging him in on either side of his body.

“Please don’t go.” you mutter wetly between kisses. Eddie moves from your mouth and leaves kisses from the edges of your wet eyes to a part on your neck that made your skin irrupt in goosebumps.

“Never baby, m not goin anywhere I promise.” he reassures nuzzling his nose against a sweet spot on your neck. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Feeling a little better than you did a minute ago. Kissing Eddie made every other rational thought cease to exist in your brain. Just you, and Eddie, your bodies moving in tandem with each other. Harmony.

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[justmeinadaze]

Created A Monster Part 2 (Steddie X Kas Y/N)

A/N: Totally new for me here. Reader kind of takes more control in this one but I'm not calling it Sub/Dom dynamics. As someone going through some shit right now, this is kinda something I needed with the angst and their strong need to please her <3.

Enjoy!

Part 1

I can also leave it here or add another part. Up to you!

Warning: Steddie & Kas (vampire) Reader, SMUT, I read that bats give off pheromones so that was KINDA utilized here but all three here are consenting, dirty talk, boys desperate for her praise, etc. FLUFF, reader has memories of the guys that she forgot thanks to Vecna, it shows the love they had/have for each other. Memories are in black bold.

ANGST (because I'm me), she does insult them a lot through the beginning and they do what they can to make her remember them. The feels are abound. There is a cameo from the envision they have of her from part 1. She's always represented with italicized font. She mentions being hit by Vecna which makes the guys mad (rightfully!). There is a moment in the upside down near the end where Vecna expresses disappointment in her. That world is in red font. Cliffhanger ending.

Word Count: 6099

"Got you on your knees, beggin', "Mommy, please?" Girl I used to be, now she isn't me, say, "R.I.P."

Call a doctor I think I created a monster She's got a psycho inside her But I think that I kinda like her."

After removing your armor, they hastily tied you to a pillar and waited for you to wake. 

“I watched her die in my arms, Steve. I held her till she took her last breath and even then people had to drag us away from her. How is she here?”

“I don’t know. She looks different…harder. She was always a badass but…’My master sends his regards.’ What can that mean?”

“In D&D there’s a character called Kas. He’s a solider with a sword who Vecna grants eternal life and in turn he becomes his right-hand man killing Vecna’s enemies.”

 “But then why would she come after us?”

“I mean we did help take him out—”

“No, asshole. I mean why is she, Y/N, coming after us, the men she loves?”

Growling catches their attention as your eyes flutter open and you take in your surroundings. 

“Sweetheart.”, Eddie coos as he holds up his hands in surrender to show he’s not a threat. “How are you feeling? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine but you aren’t. As soon as I get out of here, I’m going to rip you apart.”

“Oh, well, that’s nice.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you.

“Do you know who we are?”

“Steven Harrington, the former pathetic king of Hawkins who helped hurt my master by setting him on fire and Edward Munson who helped by distracting his babies so they couldn’t protect him. Still on the run, freak?”

Their eyes darkened as they listened to you speak. This wasn’t the girl they fell in love. You would have never said things like this to them before. 

“And who are you then?”

Your body straightens as you raise your chin in defiance. 

“I am my master’s right-hand and his strongest knight. I protect him and kill any of his enemies that he asks of me.”

“Ah, I see. So you’re his bitch?”

Baring your fangs, you hiss Eddie’s way causing both men to jump back before regaining their composure.

“My master takes care of me. He saved me when I was left bleeding to death on the concrete after you and friends tried to kill me!”

“Is that what he told you? No. No, honey, that’s not what happened. You were on our side of that fight.”

“My master said you would lie.”, you growl.

“HE killed you, Y/N. Him and his ‘babies’.”, the metalhead responded in an equally angry tone. “You were supposed to come back with us but you sacrificed yourself by distracting those things. THEY pinned you down and THEY bit into you. You died in my arms, sweetheart. How can you not remember this? I was fucking screaming at you—”

“Y/n! No, no, no, no, no. Stay with me, baby. Don’t you fucking close those beautiful eyes. Henderson! Go get Steve. Fucking hurry!”

“Be nice, a-asshole.”, you try to chuckle. “Eddie…I’m scared.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, ok? I’m right here and Steve is on his way. We’re gonna get you to a hospital. I just need you to keep talking with me.”

“I lo-ove you both…so much.”

“Hey, don’t you do that. Don’t fucking tell me goodbye!”

“It’s not goodbye… it’s—”

“…See you later.”

When you cut off Eddie’s story, his eyes locked with yours and for just a moment he saw the old you reflecting back within them. Their tiny victory was short lived however when your features hardened once more and you spit in their direction. 

“Let me go now and I promise to kill you quickly.”

“What should we do?”, Steve asked his friend, ignoring your threat. “We can’t tell the others about her because then they may want to kill her.”

“Maybe we can take turns watching her and talking to her? Get her to remember who she is.”

“And what if that’s a lost cause?”

Both men glanced your way as you tried to pull out of your binds.

“Then…we kill her.”

####################

While Steve laid in bed, he stared at the ceiling above completely unable to sleep as the events of the night you died run through his mind. 

He, Nancy, and Robin ran to where Eddie was clutching your limp body to his chest as he sobbed. 

“No! NO! What happened?!”, Steve screamed as he slid to his friend’s side. 

“She didn’t come through with us when we went back through the gate. She stayed behind to distract the bats and fight.”

“O-Ok. Ok, um, need to get her…get her to a…a hospital.”

“Steve—”

“NO!”, he shouted cutting Robin off as he reached over to pry you from the metalhead’s grasp. Dustin placed his hand on his shoulder when it took him a moment to let you go. “Honey?” His voice cracked when he felt how cold your skin was as he cupped your cheek in his palm. “Y/N, come back, baby. We won. We beat him. Vecna’s gone. We-We can go home.”

When your body remained lifeless in his arms, he desperately shook you.

“WAKE UP, Y/N! PLEASE!”

The realm around them began to quake almost knocking them off their feet. 

“We need to go NOW!”, Nancy instructed. 

“Ok, we-we need to lift her and—”

“We can’t Steve. We’ll barely be able to get Dustin back through and—”

“I’M NOT LEAVING HER HERE!”

“Neither am I.”, Eddie growled angrily at the thought. 

“I don’t blame you for having to leave me behind.”, the vision of you coos softly from beside him. “Maybe if you hadn’t I wouldn’t be in the living room right now.”

“That’s not you.”, Steve whispered. “Whoever that is, is what Vecna made her to be.”

“Hm. That’s one way to look at it. What if a version of me was hidden there the whole time and you didn’t know.”

“Please. The girl we knew would never let anyone tell her what to do.”

“Oh wow. Is little Stevie disappointed?” When he rolled away from you, your light laugh echoed in his ears. “You always did like those nights when I took control, didn’t you?”

***

“He’s talking to himself in there.”, you say sarcastically to the metalhead sitting on the counter in front of you strumming his guitar. 

“Yeah…he does that. He’s actually talk to you; a version of you.”

“Hm. We’ll that’s pathetic.” When he doesn’t respond or react to your words, your try to pull at your binds to no avail. “Do you also talk to a figment of your imagination?”

“Sometimes but I go to your grave to do that so I seem less insane.”, Eddie sighs as he readjusts his instrument. 

When his fingers start making a melody, you freeze as you listen to the notes. 

“I know that.”

A small smirk paints his lips as he plays a bit louder but softly murmurs some lyrics. 

“In touch with the ground I'm on the hunt, I'm after you Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd And I'm hungry like the wolf.”

“You always loved that song. I would tease you because you would stop anything you were doing to watch the music video if it came on.”, he chuckles at the memory. 

“It was the fedora hats. Gave off this Indiana Jones vibe I always found attractive.”, the image of you beside Eddie laughed along with him. 

“We surprised you once by buying the outfits they wear and dressing like the band for Halloween. You felt bad because you thought we should all match so we ran to the corner store and bought you this headband with ears and a tail you could clip to your jeans. As soon as we stepped outside you howled real loud like a wolf.”

Eddie’s head hung at the memory, desperately missing those times when you made him unbelievably happy. 

“Baby, it’s ok to have hope that you can bring me back. You know it will kill you if you both don’t try.”, you try to soothe as you step closer to him. “It also ok if I don’t but you accept this new…powerful…stronger…sexier version of me.”

The metalhead snorts out another laugh as he glances towards the chained-up version of you to find your black eyes watching him curiously. 

“Oh come on. I know the armor and attitude got you all riled up.”

“Am I turning you on, freak, or the imaginary friend you both talk to?” A wide toothy smile stretched across your face as you inhaled through your nose. “The other asshole is turned on to if it makes you feel better.”

Eddie listened to you manically laugh as he jumped down from the counter so his friend could take over watching you. He couldn’t handle your snarky attitude anymore. 

#################

“Hey, man. You alright?”, Steve asked as his best friend sleepily came down the hallway rubbing his eyes. 

“Yeah. I think I slept for like a total of 20 minutes.” Eddie’s gaze shifts to your sleeping frame that was now sitting on the floor with your head resting on your shoulder. “When did she knock out?”

“Um, around 6am. I was going to ask you; it seems like she’s a vampire like you said. She has the fangs and hates the sun.”

“Hm and the silver chains seem to be keeping her in place. She’s probably going to be hungry soon. I wonder how she eats. I mean it’s not like Vecna is the kind of asshole to give her blood.”

“Ed…she’s killed a lot of people, remember?”

“Steve?”

The sound of you calling out the man’s name grabbed their attention as the metalhead slowly stepped closer to you. Your eyes were still closed but your breathing had gotten shallow as your head lolled to the other side. 

“Y/N?”

“Steve…Eddie’s…missing…”

The former jock’s eyes widened at your words as the memory flashed through his mind. 

“STEVE! Did you see—”

“Yeah, baby, I did.”, he pants out as he runs around the Family Video counter to take you in his arms. 

“Eddie’s missing! We have to find him! He’s probably terrified and panicking.”

“He’s probably at another friend’s house.”, Robin suggested. “Do you know who else he could be with?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m not missing anymore. You found me…you always did.”, he cooed. 

His ringed hand shook as he slowly reached for your cheek, breathing a heavy sigh of pleasure when his thumb caressed your cool skin. 

A low rumble left your chest and he promptly retracted when your eyes snapped open. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“You were having a memory.”

“One of your lies imprinted in my brain!”

Steve angerly kicked one of the lower cabinets before leaning against the counter. A thought crossed his mind and you both watched him as he ran to the tv, searching through the plethora of VHS’s before finding what he wanted. 

Standing back, he pushed a button on the remote and the sound of your laugh echoed through the apartment.

“Steve! I’m going to laugh if we play this back and you’ve been filming the wall the whole time!”

“Honey, the lens is pointing at us. How would it capture the wall?!”

“Here, maybe, if we squeeze closer together…”

“Eddie! You’re crushing my ribs!”, you whine as the metalhead pushes you three closer together. 

Their eyes scan you over as you watch the video in front of you and your whole demeanor softened. 

“You guys are so dumb.”, you giggle and sigh. 

“Yeah but you still love us.”

“Damn right.”, you coo as you tilt up to kiss Steve’s lips. “So why did you spend money on this bulky thing?”

“Because…a few years from now when we’re married and have our six to ten kids…” The boy smiled when you rolled your eyes and your palm reached up to pet Eddie’s curls as he laughed into your shoulder. “… we can look back on this and remember. Remember a time when we were done fighting monsters and villains. A time before I became some awesome businessman working with Robin and making a ton of money.”

“A time before I became a fucking rockstar and women were screaming my name.”

“Oh my god, Ed.”, you laugh before he grips your chin and turns you towards him. 

“I’m sure even then all I hear is you.”, Eddie smiles as he kisses your lips. “What about you, sweetheart? What will you be doing?”

You softly grin as you pull them closer. 

“I don’t know yet but as long as I’m with you two I know I’ll be happy.”

“…I know I’ll be happy.”

When your words echoed alongside the ones in the video, another pang of hope pierced their hearts. 

“Did we fake that? Or imprint the idea in your head?”, Steve asked trying to hide the pleading in his tone. “You loved us and we loved you.”

“So much.”, Eddie added. “Still do, baby.”

A tear fell down your cheek as your eyes stared into a void, fleeting subtly from left to right as if you were sifting through your brain trying to decipher what was real. 

“Leave me alone.”, you commanded in a soft tone as you hung your head. 

Nodding, they did what you ask, surprising even you when they didn’t try to argue back.

***

“Ed! Wake up, man. Something’s wrong.”

Eddie’s head shot up from the chair he had fallen asleep on as his friend began to shake him. 

“Wha--? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know. She’s really clammy and growling.”

Without hesitation, he headed your way and carefully took you in. Your eyes were now fully black as your head leaned back against the wall and you panted heavily. Your shirt was damp against your chest as sweat fell from your temple and your stomach rumbled. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

When you didn’t answer, he stepped forward before abruptly pausing when you hissed his way. 

“Hungry.”

“O-Ok. Um, what do you eat? Do need blood?” As he began taking off his bracelets and rings, Steve grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “She needs to eat or she’ll die, Steve.”

“What if she kills you?”

“Then she kills me. I lost her once; I’m not losing her again.”

You blinked as you listened to them speak in such absolutes about you. Your master told you that they were vile, selfish men who left you for dead to save themselves. But then why were they offering to feed you? Why were they trying so hard to keep you around?

“Here, sweetheart, take what you need.” When he noticed you looking at the scars on his wrist, Eddie lightly chuckled. “My, uh, beauty wound.”

“I…have them…to.”

“Yeah.”, he sighed. “I tried to save you but those little fuckers were everywhere. They got me pinned before I could get to you but, um, thankfully Steve saved the day.”

“Y/N! Y/N, I’m coming, princess. Fuck! Let me—ugh!—let me go!”

You shook out his voice screaming inside your head as pain shot through your body and you growled. 

“Shit. Ok, come on, Y/N. Go ahead and eat.”, the metalhead instructed as he placed his wrist by your lips. His scent wafted into your nose as another memory filled your brain. 

“The fuck are you doing you, weirdo?”, Eddie teases when he feels you inhale and nuzzle into his neck while you were straddling his lap as he tried to read. 

“I like the way you smell.”

He cackles through his teeth making you smile as you hug him tighter. 

“I smell disgusting. I haven’t showered in like three days and you know I smoke like a chimney.”

Tilting back, you tenderly kiss his lips. 

“Its YOU. I love the way YOU smell.”

While you were lost in your head, Eddie couldn’t help but caress your cheek and to his pleasure you turned into his palm. 

Suddenly, your teeth sunk into his flesh making him wince as the other boy stepped forward before he held up his free hand to stop him. As you drained his blood his chocolate eyes flutter closed as he groaned, falling towards you as his palm shot out to catch himself against the wall. 

“Talk to me, Munson.”

When his friend didn’t respond, Steve swiftly jumped into action, yanking him from you so hard he fell to the floor. You loudly growled at the action, your wings expanding as you push forward and broke the chain around you. Tackling him to the ground, he did his best to fight against you but you were stronger as your fangs sunk into his neck. 

The former jock’s fight slowly left him as his panicked whimpers were replaced with hefty groans of need as his fingers reached up to lace in your hair. 

“Ok, now look.”

As you slowly open your eyes and see your reflection in the mirror, you let out a loud “HA!” as you cover your mouth to stifle the rest from escaping.  

“What?! You don’t like it?”, Steve teases with a big grin as his large hand lightly pats your floofy hair being held up currently by a ton of hairspray. “You said you wanted to look like Madonna in that one video and for some reason trusted me to accomplish that.”

“I just thought that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington would have some knowledge into hair.”

“Well, honey that was your mistake, not mine.” The boy’s laugh echoes through his always empty home as you gently hit his arm and he falls onto his back bringing you with him. “I still think you look beautiful.”

Your smile grows as you kiss his lips and he wraps his arms around you. 

“Eddie’s gonna have a field day though.”

“What?”, Steve asked breathlessly as he cupped your cheeks. “Keep going, baby. T-Take it. Take it all if you need to.”

At his words, a bunch of memories flash through your mind at once, overloading your brain as you tumble backwards on to the floor. 

“Whoa! What’s going on, sweetheart?”, Eddie asked as he hastily slid to your side. 

“I guess, um, we’re lab partners today?”, Steve forces a smile as he extends his hand to you. “I’m Steve Harrington.”

Eddie cautiously hands you a cigarette as he eyes you up and down as you both lean against the brick wall. “I’m Eddie…Eddie Munson. What’s your name?”

“Christ, I suck at this. The last person I said this to didn’t feel the same but…I don’t know…It’s just different…with you. What I’m trying to say, Y/N, is…I love you.”

“I love you, sweetheart, so much. I never thought I’d ever feel this way about anyone.”

“STEVE! Oh my God! Are you alright? When you got pulled under again I got so scared. Oh, fuck you’re bleeding. Nancy, do you have anything we can wrap around him?”

“I’m buying you more time. Don’t worry, Eddie, you can spank me after we finish this.”

“Y/N! No! Baby, please! Y/N! Y/N! Y/N.” 

Both men covered their ear as you tilted your head back and screamed. Before either of them could do anything about it, your wings expanded and you flew out the window.

#################

“What happened?”, Dustin asked after Eddie silently opened their front door and he saw their destroyed apartment. “We, um, Mike, Nancy, Robin, and I have been trying to call you guys these past couple of days. Did something happen? Someone break in?”

“No…nothing happened.”, the metalhead responded sullenly as he threw himself down on the couch. 

The young boy’s eyes flicked to Steve who was seemingly fuming as he paced back and forth in their kitchen.

“Did you get cut?”, Dustin inquired as he gestured towards his friend’s neck. 

“She has to come back. We know she’ll come back. She’ll remember. She’ll remember. She’ll remember.”

“Ok, no. Something’s not right! Now tell me or—”

“Or what?”, the former jock snapped. “Or WHAT, Henderson?!” Thrown off guard by his tone, Dustin slowly backed towards the door as his friend stalked his way. “Nothing then? Didn’t think so.” After lightly shoving the boy’s chest, he slammed the door and went back into the kitchen to pace. 

“That was rude.”, the vision of you scolded.

“Fuck OFF.”

“Oooo Mr. Harrington… are you…needy?”, you cackle mockingly as he glares your way. “Hmmm. Who would have thought you were into biting?”

“I’m not…you…you did something…”

“Who? Vampire Kas me? Ha! To be fair, it’s been, what, five months since either of you have gotten any? Feeling me on your lap again probably kick started your cock, you bad boy.”

The sound of glass shatters loudly as Steve throws a plate against the wall towards the vision of you. 

“Would you calm the fuck down!?”, Eddie shouts. 

“Fuck you!! Fuck everybody!”

The metalhead rises to his feet and stomps towards his friend before shoving his chest. 

“I feel it to but you don’t see me screaming at hallucinations and throwing shit!”

“Ugh! What did she do, Munson?!”

“She’s a fucking vampire now, right? Bats give off pheromones… Don’t look at me like that, Harrington! I don’t see you coming up with anything better!”

As night fell, they did everything they could to distract themselves but images of you constantly clouded their mind way more than before. They barely even heard it when your feet landed on the tile in the kitchen and your wings retracted. 

When their eyes landed on you, they thought they were envisioning you again. Your hair was laying down against your shoulders along a clean white tank top with matching shorts. Slowly, you tip toed to the couch where Eddie was laying drenched in sweat. Silently, you grabbed the back of his hand and place his palm against your cheek as you keened into the feeling. 

When his eyes found yours, his eyebrows knitted together as he pushed up on his elbow and his thumb ran along the purple bruise under your eye. 

“What happened, princess?”

Steve crawled from his place on the floor near the hallway till he was right beside you both and used his fingers to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Did I do that? Did we…?”

You shook your head as your gaze averted from theirs. 

“I…I asked my master…too many questions…”

The boy growled as he forced himself to his feet and stumbled towards the sword he had defeated you with on the ground. 

“I helped kill that fucker once, I can do it again.” 

Steve blinked in surprise when you were suddenly in front of him, gently prying the weapon from his hand. As he fell back against the wall, you fell into him and he limply circled his arms around you. 

“I’m sorry, honey. We’re not all…all here…”

Tenderly grabbing his hands, you placed them higher up your back before the sound of your wings expanding filled the apartment causing Eddie to roll off the couch and stagger your way. 

“No, NO, sweetheart, please…don’t go…”

Shaking your head, you place him beside his friend and lightly flap your wings their way. That feeling of need washed over them again causing both men to groan. 

“You were too close.”, you say as you gesture behind you. “It’s meant for enemies…to defuse a situation…I panicked…too many memories.”, you whisper sullenly. 

The metalhead tugs on your wrist, bringing you to him as he pushes your head against him. When your lips pressed against one of his tattoos, he practically melted, moaning at the action. Steve followed with a mewl of his own when your hand reached out to run along the hair that was sticking to his sweaty chest. 

A prominent whine escaped them as you took a few steps back with Eddie falling to his knees and crawling as he tried remaining as close to you as possible. Your eyelids fluttered as his lips trailed from your feet, along your calf, and up your thigh till he reached your stomach. 

After petting the long-haired boy’s head, you sauntered past them both down the hallway, pausing to beckon them with your finger and both men immediately follow. Laying down on the bed, they kiss and run their tongues along any part of your skin they can reach from your neck to the tips of your fingers.

Each pant and heavy whimper that left their mouths knocked something loose in your mind that turned you on more and more. 

“That’s it, Eddie, baby. Harder, please.”

“Fuck, Steve, I can feel you in my stomach.”

“Oh my God, pretty girl. You’re so fucking tight. You take us both so well.”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Ride my cock just like that.”

Lightly guiding his head with your fingers in his hair, you maneuvered Steve between your legs and helped him pull down your shorts while Eddie did the same with your top. 

The metalhead promptly latched onto your tit as the pretty boy pressed gentle kisses against your pussy lips till his tongue licked a long stripe through your folds. 

“Oh fuck, honey. I-I never thought I’d be able to taste you again. Still so fucking sweet.”

As his face fell back in your cunt and his mouth wrapped around your clit, your fingers softly played with his hair.

“That’s it, Steve. Such a good boy for me making me feel so good.”

Jealousy coursed through Eddie at the encouragement, desperately wanting it as well. Rings dug into your flesh as the long-haired boy sucked and nibbled on your breast a bit harder causing your back to arch into the man below. 

“Aw—mmm—does Eddie need some attention to? Fuck, your both gonna make me cum.” 

Both men hurried their rhythm just as desperate to hear you come undone and as you tumbled over the edge, you clung to them tightly as continuous moans fell from your lips. Grinning drunkenly, it took you some time to come down from your high but when you did you were met with animalist grunts as they pushed at each other. 

“You just ate her out! Why do you get to fuck her first?

“Because I can!”

A gruff growl left your throat as you pushed up and gripped Steve’s chin between your fingers roughly. 

“Don’t be greedy, Steve Harrington. You’re both mine and you’ve had a taste. It’s his turn.”

The boy nodded when you let him go, pressing his lips to yours.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You’re right. You’re right. Forgive me, baby, please.” At his last sentence, Steve’s voice cracked in pain and in return you kissed his forehead. “Thank you. I’m sorry, Ed. I’m so sorry.”

The metalhead curtly nodded as if to say he forgave his friend and when he turned to focus on you, he was rewarded with your legs open wide as your hand rubbed slow circles against your clit.

“Come here, Eddie. I can help make you feel better.”

After climbing the length of your body, his beautiful, glassy eyes locked with yours as he slowly guided his cock into your warm core making him loudly groan. 

“Ahhh my god, Y/N. Y-You feel…” He tried to control the strain in his tone but Eddie was so overwhelmed by the feeling of you as he delivered small, pointed thrusts that had little pants falling from your lips. 

“How do I feel, baby? Tell me.”

His long hair tickled your cheek as his head fell beside yours and your legs wrapped around his waist pushing him closer to you.

“You feel so fucking good. I missed you so much, sweetheart, you have no fucking idea. I’m sorry I failed to bring you back. I broke our promise.”

“You’re safe with me, pretty girl, and I promise nothing is ever going to hurt you as long as I’m here.”

Clinging to him, your lips tenderly kiss the skin along his shoulder as Eddie’s pace hastens and his hips slam aggressively into your own. 

“It’s ok, baby. You did everything y-you could.” You tried to say that as confidently as you could but the truth of the matter was you just didn’t remember. These past couple of days, your brain had been sifting through two timelines and it felt like sometimes you were viewing someone else’s life. But they were hurting and you could feel the sincerity when they spoke. 

Your master told you he loved you and would protect you; that he would never lie to you. But when you asked him questions about your memories, he became angry.

“WHY ARE YOU QUESTIONING ME?! After everything I’ve done for you, Y/N. You let them get in your head didn’t you? Made you weak? I knew I should I have left you on the concrete.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”, Eddie cooed as he lifted on to his elbow to look you over when he heard you start to sniffle. “Are you ok? Am I hurting you?”

Shaking your head, you encourage him with your palms to keep moving. His lips gently press a kiss to your forehead and down to your cheek as finds his rhythm again.

“Just l-like that, sweetheart, fuck. Your cock is so deep, Eddie.”, you whisper in his ear. “I love you.” 

Your eyes roll back as the coil snaps and your nails drag almost painfully down his back but the metalhead doesn’t care as he chases his high, falling flat on top of you as he rolls his hips and releases his seed inside of you.

“Good boy, baby. It’s Steve’s turn now, ok?”

Lazily nodding, he rolled to away from you as the other boy grabbed your arm and pulled you his chest while he laid on his side. After lifting your leg and hooking his arm under your knee, you helped guide his length into your sensitive hole causing your back to arch off the bed as you moaned. 

“Mmm—Stevie, oh my God—you’re so big. Stretching me open, baby boy.”

“Fuck.”, he groaned as he steadily pumped his hips. “Look at me, honey, please. I n-need to see your face.” When you craned your neck to do what he asked, his palm grazed your forehead, moving your hair back so he could see everything with no obstruction. “I missed you, Y/N. F-Fucking—mmm—dreamed about you every night.”

You mewled as he pounded into you and his arms abruptly pulled your body tighter against him.

“I tried, Y/N. I prayed you would never see the monsters in this town. I tried to—mmph—shield you.”

“Steven! What aren’t you telling me!” The man’s head hangs as he sits in his bedroom after you and Eddie picked him up from the hospital after the mall caught fire. “Baby…look at your face. That’s not just from a fire. Someone hurt you… Please…”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”, he murmured under his breath. 

Reaching out with your fingers to move his hair, Steve winces as a tear falls from his wounded eye. 

"Try us.”

Your fingers thread through his as his rhythm picks up and his cock abuses that spongey spot inside of you. 

“I’m sorry, baby. W-We weren’t fast enough…”

“It’s not your fault. Make me cum, Steve, please.” Pushing up on his elbow, his eyes met yours as he did what you asked and your mouth fell open in a silent moan as he thrust into you harder. “I love you to.”

Lips crashed to yours as your body trembled and you came with him following as he warmed your insides.

Both men clung to you as the kissed along your sweaty skin, thankful that you were between them once again. 

################

Vecna sighs from his spot in his crumbling home those insignificant kids tried to burn down. Idiots. He was slowly getting stronger and soon they would feel his wrath. Until then he had to depend on you; a friend and girlfriend to the people he despised. You had proven useful these past few months but when you disappeared, he thought they had killed you and began moving forward with his plan without you. 

When you flew in with half your armor missing and blood dripping from your mouth…he was disappointed. 

“What took you so long? I thought you were dead.”

Your head tilted at his aloof tone as you fought the urge to cry.

“I’m sorry, Master. Eddie and Steve were much harder to dispatch than I thought.”

“Hm. Eddie and Steve, huh? I thought they were the freak and asshole. At least that what’s you called them.”

“I-I-I…”

“Fitting men who hurt you and left you to die.”

“Did they?”

You didn’t mean to say it out loud but you still stood up straighter when he turned to face you, his intimidating eyes taking you in as he stepped forward. 

“Are you questioning me?”

“No…N-No, sir. I just…I’ve been having these…flashes and—”

Vecna’s large hand across your face cut you off as he smacked you hard and you fell to the ground. He reprimanded you and you flew away to your “home” to rest so you could go back out when night fell again. You thought he didn’t know your secrets but he always did. This WHOLE WORLD was his home. 

He felt the wind of your wings when you descended to the apartment building you felt safe in for some reason. The vine that you moved out of the way as you opened the window to a “random” apartment and curled up on a dusty bed. The pin of the thumb tac you put in the wall to replace the generic frames that were there with a banner from the trailer you explored next to where you woke up. 

You didn’t know what “Corroded Coffin” was but for some reason the design gave you peace. After removing your armor, you would sift through your closet for clothes you lifted from that same trailer and another house a few miles down the way. Dozens of polo shirts and band tee’s that were much bigger than your tiny frame but they calmed you as soon as you put them on. 

You had hidden little Knick knacks in the drawer nearby hoping one day you’d get the courage to ask your master why they felt so important to you. There was a 20-sided die beside a book with notes about dragons and dungeons and hair gel that smelled familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint where. You had four metal rings that sometimes you put on your fingers as you slept feeling like someone was holding your hand in the dark when you did. In the house you found the polos in, there was a pair of sunglasses on the dresser that you ignored at first because there was no sun here but something in your stomach tugged at you to bring them with you. 

“Weak”, Vecna thought every single time. 

When morning came around and you didn’t come home again he shifted from disappointed to annoyed. Maybe he needed to do this particular task himself. He still wasn’t as strong as he was before but he had enough strength to take out two measly men. 

You would learn…one way or another…

****

You gasp as the strong feeling that woke you slowly recedes but are hit with the peak of sunlight that penetrates the through the crack in the shades causing you to hiss as you jump out of bed and push your back to a corner. 

“Whoa! Ok, baby. It’s ok!”, Steve calms as he hastily throws off the covers and runs to fully cover the part of the window that had sun coming through. 

Eddie slides down to his knees in front of you as his eyes look you over with concern. 

“What’s going on, Y/N? What happened?”

“We…we…we have to…I have to go… I have to…”

“Sweetheart, it’s noon. The sun will hurt you—”

“Ok, then you need to leave. Right now. RIGHT NOW!”

As you stand up and start to push forward, ring covered fingers keep you in place before you growl and the man lets you go holding his palms in the air.  

“Just talk to us, honey. What’s going on? Let us help you.”, Steve pleads as he takes his place at his friend’s side. 

“He’s coming for you because I failed.”

“Who?”

Your worried gaze shifts between them both as you sigh and shake your head, annoyed that they don’t already know. 

“Who’s coming for us, baby?”, Eddie asked again as he stepped towards you and carefully pushed some of your hair behind your ear. Closing your eyes, you turn your cheek into his palm and kiss the skin as you place your hand over the back of his own. 

“My master.”

###############

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[lovewithmary]

(not) moving on — a max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc series

★ fc: madison beer ☆ summary: evangeline "evie" stark is in love with her best friend, max verstappen, but he tries his best to keep her at arm's length. but what happens when she starts to get close to his fellow drivers in the paddock? ★ notes: kinda short chapter but the reconciliation chapter may or may not be coming soon. either the next chapter or the chapter after that. we'll see though

previous next series masterlist

"How much do you think it costs to buy an F1 Team?"

"Papa, you can't buy Ferrari—"

"Why not? As much as I hate to admit it, I actually like your boyfriend and he seems talented enough to win a WDC, if it wasn't for the shit tractor and shit strategies," Tony said.

Tony, as much as he wanted to hate Charles, had been won over by the Monegasque. Even if Tony was rooting for Max, he wouldn't be too mad if Evie would end up being with Charles. Or, better yet, he'd be happy if she would end up with both of them.

"Tony," Pepper warned.

"I'll wear you out about the F1 Team eventually," Tony said.

"Just like you did when you asked her to marry you," Evie commented, making Pepper smile and Charles stifle a laugh out of shock from beside her.

"Okay, that's it. Your name won't be on the F1 Team when I buy Ferrari," Tony said.

"I'm a Stark, my name would be on the Team name regardless," she shot back at her father.

Before Tony could say something back, Pepper had dragged him away, leaving Charles and Evie alone. "Would your dad actually buy Ferrari," Charles questioned, making her sigh.

"Who knows at this point. Papa's got more money than he knows what to do with it and he's always wanted a team," she told Charles.

"He seemed to like you, though,"

"Really? I didn't think he knew who I was until he called me your boyfriend,"

"Trust me, he does. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't offer to buy your team. It is Tony Stark's love language; giving gifts to tell people he likes them," Evie said.

"I noticed it's also yours," Charles commented, having received a watch from her that costs more than his Pista, and he nearly dropped the watch at the sight of it.

"I suppose I do like you as well. Just a little bit though," she teased, putting her hand up and moving her pointer finger and thumb as close together as possible without touching, signifying how "little" she liked him.

"Oh, just a little bit, amor? You weren't saying that last night," Charles teased back, grabbing her waist in order to pull her close to him.

"Leclerc! Just because you're dating my daughter does not mean I should have to see you commit cannibalism on her!" Tony called out, making Sam and Bucky ooh and ahh at them like they were children.

Pepper tried stopping her husband but the people around them were already looking at Evie and Charles. Meanwhile, Steve was trying his hardest to give the couple some kind of semblance of privacy, turning around to not look at them in the eye. Wanda and Natasha were explaining to Thor and Vision that Charles wasn't actually trying to eat Evie. And Peter was trying his best to not let Morgan run away and explore.

Evie rolled her eyes, and rested her forehead on Charles' chest, groaning at the absurdity of her family. "They're your family. You love them. You love them." She chanted, trying to remember or else she might end up killing them.

[xoxosimp]

Perfect Timing

POV: You were right not to trust Bucky with your heart. 

Part two of Wrong Person, Right Time

Warnings: fluff, a wee bit of angst, Steve in a dress shirt is a warning,mediocre writing, not beta’d , barely proofread

I listened to “ It’s gonna be me” by *NSYNC and “El Farsante (Remix)” by Ozuna and Romeo Santos while writing this. 

~~~~~

Trying to discreetly look into the crowd proved to be a challenge. You needed to engage with the panelists and look as neutral as possible with the camera rolling. If only the crowd could part like the Red Sea so you could find him. 

You were hosting a panel at a university discussing college access among second generation immigrants and low income students. You invited multiple officials from the university’s admissions department and the leadership behind multiple college access partnerships. It was an honor to host the panel, considering you were so young. 

You invited Bucky when the panel was approved. You darted your eyes every so often in the sea of students and faculty. But you didn’t see him. Not his beautiful blue eyes. Not his messy brunette hair. 

Once the panel was over, you shook numerous people’s hands with half hearted thank yous. As people were leaving the venue, you still couldn't find Bucky. 

You reached to grab your phone from your purse, however in the corner of your eyes you see a speck of red. 

You look up and see Steve Rogers holding a beautiful bouquet of roses. He is dressed to the nines, in a white dress shirt that’s folded up to his elbows. You try, tried not to linger on how his dress pants hug his thighs. His hair is combed back and he wore a smile. 

Your eyes widened, “ Steve! What are you- What are you doing here?” Your eyes darted behind him, to see if Bucky was coming from parking the car. 

“ Well hello to you too,” he greeted. “ How could I miss your panel?”. You were so clouded with “Is Bucky here” and “ Is he mad at me”, that you forgot you invited Steve. 

“ When did you get here? I didn't see you at all.”

“Well I was a little late because I needed to get the flowers,” he admitted sheepishly, “ I got a terrible seat in the back.”

You took the flowers, “ This is so sweet, Steve. Thank you.”

A silence filled the air, your mind buzzing with the question you so desperately wanted to ask him.

“ Bucky isn't here.”

You sighed, “ Figures, I think he’s mad at me.” Steve’s face prompts you to continue. “ I don’t wanna talk about it.” It’s completely valid that he was upset with you, but before all of that, he is your best friend. He supported you no matter what in all things you were passionate. Now that he’s mad at you, he can't be bothered?

“ Is Lilian here?” you asked. 

“ We broke up.”

“Oh I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t,” he put his hands in his pockets. “ It was for the better.”

Maybe Steve really does need someone that can soothe him, you remembered what Bucky said. It was a special type of affliction to be ready to love and give your heart to someone who was undeserving of it. Steve needed someone to ignite his flame, not snuff it out. 

And you needed someone that would weld the pieces of your glass heart back together. 

You leaned and gave Steve a kiss on the cheek. “ You being here means everything to me, Steve.”

Steve smiled, “ How could I not be here to support you, my beautiful nerd?” 

A grumble of your stomach pulled a chuckle out of Steve. “ Can I buy you dinner?”

“Only if dinner consists of fries,” you said.

“Well you’re too dolled up for McDonald’s , so how about Magarita’s so you can get churrasco?”

“Sounds perfect.”

If you valued anything, it was simplicity. If Bucky was the careless player that toyed with your heart, then maybe Steve was your knight who protected it. Simple as that.

~~~~~

A/N : Plottwist? Plottwist.

For the people who asked to be tagged: @blackhawkfanatic

@scott-loki-barnes

@genlovesdcb

@rabbitrabbit12321

@mostlymarvelgirl

@bisexualnikkisixx

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 6

Yay! Another History Nerd Steve!! And I got a shit ton of awesome writing done yesterday so I was able to catch up to omegaverse. But it's looking like this one will finish first. As I think I have one or two more chapters to go on this one (as in past my backlog not past this chapter specifically).

In this chapter we get Eddie being a good dad, Mike getting introspective and Will getting some perspective of his own. And a little bit of Eddie keeping Mike humble for funsies.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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

****

Eddie gathered Mike and El up and took them outside of Will’s hearing.

“Hey,” he said gently, “I’m not mad at you, okay? But I have to explain something to you both.”

Mike and El looked at each other in confusion. “About what?” El asked.

“About offering to help Will buy the staff,” Eddie said. “It showed that you are kind and generous people who only want to help their friend, but Will does not see it that way.”

“He doesn’t?” El asked.

“When you grow up poor,” Eddie said fiercely, “it is drilled into you that any help at all is charity and should be avoided at all cost.”

Mike and El looked at each other again, their confusion even greater than before.

“But why?” El asked.

“Because supposed ‘well meaning’ people,” Eddie put air quotes around well meaning, “think that when you are poor you don’t deserve good things and gifts like that always come with strings attached.”

“So Will thinks that if we help buy the staff we’re going to ask him to do something that he might not want to do but will feel he has to because we bought him the staff?” El asked in one great big rush.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Eddie said. “Do I think you’d hold it against him? No. But...”

“But when it’s all you know it’s hard to see there is a problem,” Mike muttered looking at his shoes, remembering what had happened only hours before.

Eddie’s expression softened. “The very like.” He gave them a group hug. “Besides Steve’s got it covered.”

Mike and El stepped back, confusion back on their faces.

“What do you mean?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “If the staff is still there on Saturday, Steve going to suddenly have ten extra dollars from Joyce that she gave him for Will’s meals that he didn’t end up spending because Will eats like a bird.”

El frowned. “But that would be a lie and friends don’t lie.”

Eddie shrugged. “Is it a lie or is it Steve stretching the truth a little to help a friend. After all your friends have lied for you. Lying to you to make you feel better is something that isn’t going to hurt anything in the long run.”

“I don’t understand,” El said, tilting her head.

“It’s like you could tell Mike he looks hideous in yellow,” Eddie pointed out. “But he wears it because it’s your favorite color. Him wearing yellow isn’t hurting anyone and it’s sweet he’s wearing it for you. So if he asked how the yellow hat looks on him you would say what? That it looks awful or that you love it because you understand the intentions behind it?”

El blinked. “You’re right. Thank you!”

Eddie smiled and began walking back to the table.

Mike started hurrying after him. “But I don’t look hideous in yellow, right? Right, Eddie?”

Eddie just kept walking with his smile turning into a feral grin.

****

Steve smiled at Eddie when he sat back down next to him. He bumped him with his shoulder. “If I’m the mom, you’re their dad.”

Eddie turned bright red and shoved his hair in front of his face. “Shut it.”

Steve bumped their shoulders together. “I think between the two of us we form one half-way decent parental figure.”

Eddie smiled that closed lipped dimpled smile that Steve loved so damn much and he couldn’t help but smile back.

Holy shit was this crush getting wildly out of hand. He just wanted kiss those dimples so, so much.

Across from them Mike raised an eyebrow. He looked between the two older boys and after a moment he made the connection. He thought about it for a moment and decided it wasn’t any of his business as long Steve didn’t take over their DnD time.

And considering how well Steve respected that time as friends with Eddie, he really didn’t think dating would change all that much. Just the level of PDA they would show would change.

Mike continued to watch them to see if they were a couple and hiding it or if they hadn’t gotten there yet.

His consensus? Hell if he knew, to be honest.

But better Eddie than Nancy at this point was all he was going to say on the matter.

They finally were all done with their food and they all split off again. He watched Steve and Eddie go off together and shook his head.

Will tilted his head. “What’s up?”

Mike knew what Will was. Had done for ages now. He just smiled at his best friend. “I haven’t held much stock in there being one person for you in all the world, but you know sometimes you see two people together and just think ‘yeah, I couldn’t see them with anyone else,’ you know?”

Will looked in the direction Steve and Eddie were walking away and nodded. “Yeah, I think I do.”

****

While there wasn’t much to do the kids still came home that night filled with tales of wonder and amazement.

But later that night Will came and knocked on Jonathan’s door.

Jonathan pulled off his headphones and motioned him in.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked as Will hesitantly stepped into the room.

Will sat gingerly on the bed. “How well do you know Steve?”

Jonathan sighed. “Probably not as well as I should. He was around in the outside of my circle and then we’d only really see each other when the world was ending. Why? What’s up?”

Will twisted his fingers nervously. “What would you say the possibility was of him liking guys?

That brought up Jonathan short. Sure there was a chance that Will was just projecting his hopes for Mike onto the older boy, but this was Will and his little brother was far too perceptive for his own good.

So he gave it some real thought. All the times he saw Steve in high school and around town. All the times they interacted to help save the world. And he was starting get a picture.

Jonathan shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible. It’s hard to tell admiring glances from signs of attraction.”

Will cocked his head to the side. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Would you say Max or Robin were pretty?” Jonathan asked scooting over on the bed to sit next to Will.

Will shrugged back. “I mean, I guess. My friends are attracted to them so they must be.”

“Right,” Jonathan agreed. “Is Mike good looking?”

Will snorted. “Not really, maybe when he’s gotten past the awkward giraffe stage. Steve though...” He ducked his head and blushed.

Jonathan laughed. “Fair enough. I’m not attracted to guys and even I know that Steve is hot.”

“So attraction is more than looks?” Will asked. “Like you can find someone of the opposite that you’re attracted to good looking, but you wouldn’t want to date them or have sex with them?”

Jonathan nodded. “So while it’s possible Steve could be attracted to guys, I really couldn’t be the judge of that. Why do you ask?”

“I think even Mike picked up on Steve and Eddie’s flirting today,” Will muttered.

Jonathan’s eyebrows really did shoot up on that one. If Mike picked up that Steve was flirting with Eddie...

But then again... actually.

“That makes more sense then you realize,” he told Will slowly.

Will straightened up. “What do you mean?” He was really getting tired of asking that phrase at the moment.

“Who would know more about what Steve’s flirting looks like from the outside,” Jonathan said, “then someone who witnessed it with his own sister.”

“Oh. Nancy. Yeah, you’re right that does make sense.” Will blinked away his confusion.

Jonathan smiled. “So did you get the answer you were looking for?”

Will thought for a moment. “I think so. I mean Robin and Eddie have come out to us, but Steve hasn’t.” He paused for a moment. “Though, I think that Steve may have hinted it to me earlier. I told him that I thought Eddie might like him back, but I don’t know if that was enough, you know? For him to come out, I mean.”

“It could be that Steve hasn’t figured it out fully himself,” Jonathan said with a huff of laughter. “Like he might know he has feelings for Eddie, but not what those feelings mean.”

Will nodded. “Thanks, Jonathan. I’ll let you get back to your music.”

“Oh shit!” Jonathan scrambled to stop the tape. He sighed when he realized it was near the end of it. He hit rewind and looked back at Will shaking his head fondly.

“I think you need to lay off the weed, dude,” Will said, getting to his feet.

“Never!” Jonathan shouted after him, but Will had already slammed the door behind him.

****

Mike was lying on his bed looking up at the ceiling. Unlike what he knew was happening in friends houses’, the near constant talking about how awesome their day was, Mike had made an excuse that he was just tired, that he did have fun and couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

In the dark comfort of his own room, he knew they weren’t lies. Not really. He was all three of those things, but he also had a lot on his mind.

Racism and homophobia. He remembered all the awful things he had thrown at Will. All the things he said to Lucas.

He knew his parents were conservative. Whatever the hell that really meant. But they weren’t bad people. His mom had never tried to tell him not to be friends with Lucas or that gay people were evil.

But all the little things were starting to add up. Gay men deserved to die because the disease didn’t affect anyone else and they just weren’t the effort.

But he thought about Will and Eddie. And yeah, maybe Steve, too. Did they really deserve to die just because of how they had sex? That didn’t sit well with Mike. It made his stomach turn uneasily.

Dustin had been right about the Vulcans, they were of different colors, too. So why couldn’t elves? Why were the Drow evil? Was that racism, too? Plus did it even matter?

Almost all the campaigns Mike had been in were what the game makers called home-brew.

Yes, they used the game as the framework, but then colored outside of the lines all the time.

After all, Vecna was just a lore character where only the dude’s hand and eye were left out in the world. But Eddie had taken that lore and turned it into an amazing story.

He got ready for bed and laid back down. He stared up at his ceiling again. He had been a bad friend for years. Ever since El came into their lives, she was his only focus. It was a god damn miracle that they hadn’t thrown him off before now.

There must be something that they still liked. He would just have to figure out what it was and lean into that.

And with that, Mike drifted off to sleep as tried to figure out ways to keep his friends.

****

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @customization @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot

[yelenasbitch]

Death's Revival - Chapter One

Summary: Natasha's sudden and tragic ending left behind many mourning loved ones, including her wife. Yelena tracked down Clint, and now she's going to meet her sister's wife, only without her sister there to help out. Grief is a process for friends and family, especially when it ends suddenly...

Word Count: 3,541

Warnings: Grief, mentions of death/dying, weight issues, memory issues, etc.

A/N: I wrote this bc this is what happened, and that's only if you believe Thanos was real and not an anxiety induced dream sequence...

Masterlist (coming soon)

Chapter 1: Mourning Widows

You hear the elevator ding, hear the doors open, and you simply sigh inwardly, knowing who it is. Sure enough, Steve knocks lightly on the kitchen door, an absurd but nice gesture that he insists on, and then he comes in, the same kind and resigned look on his face that you see every week. 

You don’t say anything, don’t move from where you’re wrapped in a blanket and pressed against the bay window in the living room. He walks through the kitchen and comes to sit on the couch, carefully and quietly. The two of you sit there for a while in silence, and that's fine with you, you’d be happy if he stopped coming altogether. No, you think, not happy , not anymore, but satisfied seems like the right word. You’d be satisfied if he left you and your grief alone forever, for the rest of time.

“Sam and Bucky are going to stop by tomorrow,” Steve says quietly, watching your face for a glimmer of interest, a spark of excitement, anything to remind him of the vivacious and vibrant woman you had been a little over a year ago. 

You simply nod, keeping your eyes pointed out the window. He sighs, and if you could feel anything besides the numbness and all consuming heartbreak, you think you would feel guilty. He’s just trying to cheer you up, take care of you, and heaven knows that you haven’t made it easy for him. 

The months, now almost two years, since Natasha… since it happened, you’ve been a husk of a human being. You’d stayed at the compound, not wanting to leave the home you and your wife had shared, even though it was a painful reminder of what and who you had lost. The future that would never come for you, and the woman who would never come home again. Still, Steve had come by every couple days to make sure you were ok, and then after a few months, he’d come once a week. He’s concerned about you, and he has every right to feel that way. You forget to eat most days, even though he’s tasked FRIDAY to remind you at least once a day, and you don’t do anything but move from the bed to the couch to the window and back again. 

“Clint is also stopping by, said he needed to talk to you,” at this your head swivels sharply to him, your eyes locking. He looks relieved at this sign of awareness, even though he knows what's coming.

“No.” It’s simple and to the point, even though your voice is rough, speaking for the first time in—maybe since Steve was here last week, maybe longer. You can’t really remember at this point. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Not anymore.

                                                                       ~~

“Thank you for telling me everything, Clint. I know, and want you to know, that you couldn't have stopped her, not once she’d made up her mind. It’s not your fault, what happened, and she was your best friend and loved you so much. I just, well, I can’t—” you break off, tears choking you as you look away from Clint and focus on her tombstone, both of you here for the first month's anniversary.

“You can’t look at me and not hate me. I get it, trust me.” Clint gives a wry smile and a shake of his head. You hold in a sob, try and calm yourself down a bit.

“I just can’t be mad at my dead wife.” He nods, getting up from where he’s been sitting next to you on the ground.

“I’ll be here if you need me, but I won’t…I’ll keep my distance.” He gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head, and then he’s gone, into the wind, by the time your sobs have died down enough to be able to talk.

He’d kept his word, stayed away after that. You were grateful. And heartbroken.

                                                                       ~~

“You know he wouldn’t come by if it wasn't important,” Steve’s voice drags you back to the present.

You scoff at him, “nothing is important anymore.” And when he goes to talk, you keep speaking, “it’s fine. I’ll see him, all of them, tomorrow.”

He looks relieved, “thank you.” You nod in response. Or maybe you just think about nodding. You’re not sure and it doesn't matter.

There's a silence, and then: “I’m tired now,” and you stand up, unfolding yourself from the window seat and briefly wondering how long you’d been sitting there, how many hours it’s been.

Steve nods and stands as well. The two of you walk through the room and out the door, and he pulls you in for a gentle hug before he walks to the elevator. You wait until the doors close behind him and then walk to your room. Keeping the lights off, you crawl into bed and pull the covers tightly over you, arranging the pillow the way you like. You stare into the dark room as the silent tears begin making their way down your face and you try in vain to prepare yourself for tomorrow, for Clint’s arrival.

                                                                           ~~

The next day you’re back in the bay window when you hear the elevator again, and for a few seconds it’s silent, and your heart beats faster. He seems to remember then, starts making noises as he moves closer, and you curse your foolish heart for even entertaining the idea, for reminding you of Natasha’s silent footsteps whenever she moved around anywhere.

Not a great start to this encounter.

Clint comes in, not wasting any time with the foolish knocking that Steve insists upon doing every single time he comes.

You shift your head, face Clint, though you can’t quite meet his eyes. He can’t meet yours either, or the bags under them.

“I met Yelena.” He says finally, breaking the quiet tension in the air.

You blink twice, “how?” 

“She tried to kill me.” He says bluntly, and you sit there in shock for a second before you’re laughing for the first time in months. It must sound a bit hysterical, because Clint gets even more uneasy, and you quiet yourself down quickly.

“Oh?” you ask, motioning for him to take a seat, and then he tells you everything, the whole story between him and Kate Bishop and Yelena. By the end you’re moments away from crying, and Clint looks like he is too.

“I also mentioned you, and she knew who you were, although I guess she… well, she just kinda forgot about you.” He looks concerned when he says that, worried that he’s somehow hurt your feelings with this. You want to laugh again, at the absurdity that Yelena forgetting your existence would be enough to hurt you anymore, but you know it would absolutely sound hysterical again, so you just shrug.

The two of you sit there for a while, unspeaking, each lost in thought. Eventually, mostly because you want him to leave, you pluck up your courage and break the silence.

“Why are you really here, Clint?” You need to know, Steve could’ve told you about Yelena, so it isn’t that.

“I wanted to check on you,” there’s a loaded pause before he continues, “and Yelena wants to see you.” He waits for his words to sink in, your mind slow and foggy now in a way that he’s still unused to, even all these months later.

“Why?” it’s the only word that your brain can come up with, surprise flooding in; actually, your brain is also screaming ‘no’ but you have a feeling that it won’t be that easy to dismiss this, to run from it.

Clint looks at you oddly, and you realize that you’re probably not thinking clearly, not used to being around people and having human conversations anymore. It doesn't matter, he can explain it to you, remind you how normal people think. He owes it to you.

“You were her wife,” he says and you get angry, feel something other than grief and guilt and sadness, and it shocks you into moving, standing and facing him.

“I am still her wife.” Your words are venomous and Clint’s eyes go wide. And even though your wasted figure wrapped in one of Natasha’s old jackets must not cut an imposing image, he still looks shaken. Good. 

Nodding, he speaks again, “yes, of course. And that’s why Yelena wants to meet with you, to talk about…her.”

It strikes you at this moment that neither of you have said Natasha’s name out loud. It hurts to realize, and hurts even more to try and say it.

Your jaw clenches. 

The elevator dings.

“Just think about it, please.”

And then Steve, Bucky, and Sam walk into the room, finding you still standing over Clint with anger and agony written all over your face. Everyone freezes for a second, and then with one last glance at Clint, you shift focus to the others and sit back down in your usual spot at the window.

“I see we missed a party,” Sam says, and Bucky smacks the side of his head in response. You don’t smile, don’t give him a witty comeback, and it breaks his heart to remember how you would always go toe to toe with him, each one-upping the other until you were both laughing and the others were groaning and throwing things to get you two to stop.

“Have a seat anywhere,” you say, ignoring the sadness in the air, and not looking in Clint’s general direction. The sudden emotions have exhausted you, adrenaline fading away and leaving you with that tired and hollow feeling you’ve had since Clint returned alone.

The three sit down, and begin talking about what they’ve been up to since you’d last seen them. You have, of course, heard all of this from Steve’s weekly visits, but you let them talk, try and remember how it felt to be part of the world, to engage with them and their lives, to care about any of the trivial day-to-day worries. It gives you a headache.

After about thirty minutes you excuse yourself, leaving them in the living room and trudging back towards your dark bedroom. They watch you leave, making your way down the empty hallway that always feels so much bigger now. You settle yourself into bed and practice saying your dead wife’s name into the darkness.

                                                                           ~~

Back in the other room, the four men sit around the coffee table and discuss your appearance. 

“She was standing when we got here, and it looked like she was listening when we told her about stuff,” Sam says, ever the optimist.

“She only lasted half an hour, last time we came she stayed for a whole hour.” Bucky cuts in, the two glaring at each other a bit.

“Well, she was with Clint for a while,” Steve interjects, playing the peacemaker. At this they all look at Clint.

He explains what he told you, and then everyone winces as he explains the aftermath of that conversation, and why you’d been upright when they arrived. 

“Well we’ve got to do something, she looks terrible, and we all promised Nat that we’d look out for her if anything ever happened.” Sam sounds determined, but there is a tiredness in his voice that he cannot mask, not anymore.

“That’s why I’m hoping she’ll let Yelena come visit, it might do them both some good.” 

“Well, we have to do something, I visit every week but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.” Steve looks defeated too, “maybe Nat’s sister will be enough to drag her out of her grief. Pepper at least had Morgan to focus on, maybe this will be similar.”

Everyone nods and then they stand, making their way to the elevator and going down to Steve’s floor for the rest of their visit. The sadness and grief clings to every room and every object in your home, and they all breathe in relief when the elevator doors close and cut them off from the despair that hangs in the air.

You can tell when they’re gone, and you settle back into the silence and desolation of your empty home.

                                                                           ~~

Weeks pass and you forget about Clint’s insistence that you meet Yelena and talk to her. Really, you’ve forgotten by the next day, but you’ve managed to push away the memory of Clint’s entire visit by this point. 

You’re lost in thought, eyes glazed over as you face the window, and so you don’t even register the sound of the elevator, you don’t hear the door open, but something shifts in the air and you jerk out of your stupor. 

A woman, and it can only be Yelena, your brain supplies in a moment of startling lucidity, stands in the middle of the room. She’s facing you and though she’s wearing stylish civilian clothes, the way she’s standing reminds you of the first time you saw Natasha in her Black Widow outfit as she returned from a mission. The same posture and alert eyes, the air of authority and strength. 

You can’t breathe.

Her eyes move from your face, down to your hands where you’re unthinkingly twisting your wedding ring around and around, a nervous habit you’d had since it landed on your finger all those years ago. 

She swallows heavily. 

“Yelena, hi. I didn’t know you would be…visiting, today.” You force your lips up, a ghostly version of a smile, and the best you can conjure up right now.

She moves further into the room, “Barton said to come by whenever, and Steve said that this is when he usually comes to visit, so you’d probably be in here.” Instead of in bed crying, is what he’d meant. 

“Yes, well. You’re welcome here anytime of course.” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out what to say to this stranger who you feel such a connection to, thanks to Natasha. “I’m not sure we decorated the room to your standards, though.” She looks around confused, and you’re surprised to feel a real smile tug at your lips. 

“Not this one,” you say as you stand carefully, “your bedroom.” And she follows you silently, your heart aching at that, through the hall, past your bedroom to the one at the end of the hall.

You stand and gesture towards the door, “go ahead, we spent hours decorating and arguing over everything. We wanted it to be comfortable but also stylish.” She opens the door slowly and you take this moment of privacy to wipe away the tears that have formed at the memories of you and Natasha, curled up on the couch and arguing over different bed frames, remembering how you’d picked out paint samples, finding the most ridiculous shades to make the other laugh, the carpet that had been delayed– 

Yelena makes a noise that thankfully cuts off your thoughts, and you sniff a bit, entering the room to see her looking around, tears in her eyes as well.

“This is for me?” She asks, sounding so small and desolate that you have the urge to gather her into your arms.

“Of course, sweetheart.” You say gently, continuing after a pause, “she was hoping that you would come visit, maybe even stay with us a while, and we wanted you to have your own space, to feel at home with us.”

Yelena turns around once more, taking it all in again, and this time when she turns back to you, you open your arms and step forward, though you allow her the space to come to you, not wanting to push her boundaries. Natasha had taken quite some time to be comfortable expressing emotions with you, but you’re hoping Yelena will be more receptive; nothing, after all, bonds like shared grief. She stands still for a moment, and then she’s wrapped herself around you, sobbing into your neck, and then you’re crying as well. The two of you eventually sink to the ground, grief bringing you to your knees, though you are both comforted by the other’s presence. 

Your tears dry up first; you’ve cried so much that you’re constantly surprised there’s anything left at all. You rub Yelena’s back as her own sobs quiet down, and soon she lifts her head, looking around again in wonder. You follow her gaze as it lands on various objects throughout the room, watch as she catalogs information the way your wife did, thoughts traveling too fast for you as usual, though you’re happy to wait for her to share them. 

Eventually she does, starting with a statement presented as a question.

“You haven’t moved anything, but you come in here, keep it clean?”

“Yes.” You wait.

“Why?” She turns and faces you, searching your eyes for something.

You shrug at her intent gaze, “it’s your room and she wanted you to see it this way.”

“I didn’t even know about it.” It’s somewhat accusing, and you wince a bit. “I just mean, she never told me.” Her voice is a bit softer, but the hurt in it is unmistakable. 

“She wanted to, but she was waiting for it to be perfect. And then you were…” you trail off, knowing from Clint that Natasha’s suspicions were correct, Yelena had been snapped.

“I was gone,” she finishes for you, understanding your hesitance, “and then, yes. Everything.” It goes unspoken, the thought that by the time Yelena was back, her sister was gone, dead and broken on a random planet thousands of miles from the people she loved, the world she died to save.

You stand after another few minutes and excuse yourself, leaving her to sit in her room, hoping that she can feel the love that Natasha poured into every choice she made for that room.

                                                                           ~~

“Barton says that he doesn’t usually come here, that the two of you don’t see each other.” An hour later Yelena greets you with this, walking in and settling down on the couch.

“Yes.” You don't know what else to say, how to explain your feelings regarding this man that Natasha loved like a brother, who watched as she fell to her death for him, instead of him. Leaving him, and her sister, and you to piece together a life for yourselves without her in it. You hate them both for it, and miss them even more. 

“Would you have been upset if I killed him?”

“She would’ve been furious.” Your lips quirk a bit, but Yelena shakes her head.

“That is not what I asked you.” And she waits for you to answer her, refusing to drop it.

“I don’t know what I would’ve felt. But it doesn’t really matter, does it?” you ask, shaking your head slightly. “Neither one of us is going to hurt him because she loved him and made her own choice, and would be pissed if we did.”

Yelena hums thoughtfully as she considers your words, as she considers you. She’d sat in that room, her room, and thought about what she’d been told of you. Natasha had mentioned you during their time together on the hunt for Dreykov, had droned on and on about you and Clint until Yelena wanted to knock her unconscious, jealousy and curiosity warring in her mind at the thought of these two important people that her sister so clearly loved. 

Natasha had described you as vibrant and wickedly smart, someone who could keep her on her toes and made her feel more loved and safe than she’d ever felt before. Looking at you now, Yelena sees an empty husk, your eyes are lifeless, only a brief flicker whenever you talk or think about Natasha. Clint had sounded almost as devastated about you as he had about Natasha, as though you were dead for him as well; you kind of are, she thinks. Between your emptiness and refusal to see him, he’d lost the only other connection to his best friend. She tries to feel pity for him but comes up short.

She stands and walks over towards the kitchen, begins poking around, and after a minute you look over at her, a muted expression of curiosity on your face. 

“I’m making some food, I’m hungry and you need to eat.” You don't say anything, just nod, and she hums softly to herself as she moves around the kitchen.

You sit and watch her for a moment, and then turn away when her clean and precise movements remind you too much of your missing wife. You doze a bit, lulled by the sounds and smells she’s making, the entire place feeling more alive than it has in a long time. It’s both unsettling and comforting. 

Once she’s done, the two of you eat in a silence that feels somewhat comfortable, and then you retire to your respective bedrooms, neither of you saying anything about Yelena staying the night.

                                                                           ~~

When Steve asks FRIDAY what time Yelena left, and he hears that she’s still there, he smiles to himself, and feels something like hope stirring inside his heart.

He texts Clint.

                                                                           ~~

Yelena leaves the next afternoon, but she starts coming by regularly between her various jobs. It helps both of you.

                                                                           ~~

[damthosefandoms]

my life has changed in oh so many ways

(ao3 link)

Summary:

"You aren’t stupid. You just learn different than everybody else. You don’t have to do this.”

He stares at her. Maybe she is still kinda nice. But nice girls don’t date guys like Bob Sheldon who've picked on him for a decade now because sometimes he talks funny and because he can’t read or write or do anything like people his age are supposed to, on top of everything else that comes with being a greaser.

Guys like Bob Sheldon who do nothing but get drunk and beat on poor kids like Johnny Cade until they aren’t themselves anymore and never will be again.

"It just ain't fair you never got any help!"

“You told me you wanted to be a teacher here when you grow up, Sodapop. But if you want to be a teacher you have to work! What do you think would happen if I came to school everyday and did nothing?”

“I ‘unno.”

“I’d get fired! So if I were you, I’d pick up that pencil and start writing.”

Soda puts his head down on his desk and cries. His teacher just sighs and walks away. She’s giving up on him just like everyone else.

He’s a lost cause.

He just wanted help.

Soda slams the door to their dad’s old truck and tries to control his breathing. He waits for Darry to drive off, to drop Ponyboy at the middle school, where their genius little brother only has one month left of seventh grade. Soda has what feels like centuries left of tenth; but the piece of paper hidden in his sorry excuse for a backpack will change that.

Steve jogs up to him and goes, “You remember it today?”

“I shoved it under my pillow and couldn’t sleep all night ‘cause of it. Yeah, I remembered it.”

“They gonna take it covered in drool?”

Soda swings at him, but Steve just dodges and switches to walk on his other side. They pause in front of the doors, so Soda can get the withdrawal form out.

The main entrance to Will Rogers High School is intimidating, but not as intimidating as what lies beyond the doors. Most kids—greasers and socs alike—don’t give it a second thought as they walk in every morning, but Sodapop Curtis isn’t most kids, and the paper in his hand proves it.

He’s never even driven by this place without wanting to throw up.

“Seriously, man. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. I know Darry’ll kill you, but we talked about this, we all got your back and Two-Bit or me are gonna drive ya to school every day and you can just walk to the DX for work, say you’re working just part time every afternoon now, he’ll never—”

“It ain’t Darry I’m worried about. He’ll be mad as the day is long, I don’t give a damn. Dad gave the okay, it ain’t up to Darrel at all. Never was. But Pony’s gonna take it hard and I can’t stand that.”

Soda gives it three classes before he feels sick to his stomach. He’s got the form folded up in the pocket of his dad’s favorite flannel, the same one he’s worn practically every day since the accident. Darry’s always getting on him about giving it a rest and wearing something else—“Everyone knows we’re poor! No need to make them think we don’t wash our damn clothes!”—but to Soda it’s like a security blanket. It’s also one the few shirts he has that don’t make him want to rip his skin off while wearing it. And, you know, his dad always cut the tags off.

He doesn’t even ask his history teacher to let him use the bathroom, just gets up and leaves. He’s told to sit down but he doesn’t because he’s a greaser and nobody expects obedience from him, anyway. He doesn’t look back as he walks out, just reaches into his pocket and takes out the form. It’s the only piece of paper he’s ever put in there without crumpling. He absent-mindedly hums a little tune while he walks—“Help!” by the Beatles, which is one of his favorite songs. It’s a few years old but he heard it on the radio again recently and it’s catchy, not that he could ever admit that to any of his east side buddies—and he unfolds the form. He wants to read through it one more time before he hands it in.

He knows what it says in theory, but there’s so many words on there, and the font is so small that his eyes kind of glaze over, but he keeps his eyes glued to the page while he walks.

Until he collides with something and it flies out of his hands. He looks up and there’s a girl in front of him—ohgodit’sCherry—and he immediately goes to help her up. She looks at him for a second, eyes wide and he thinks maybe her cheeks might be as red as his are her hair, but she ignores his hand, so instead he goes to pick up her books for her.

“Sorry,” Soda mumbles, somehow briefly forgetting that he’s not supposed to be saying stuff like that to soc girls, he’s got a reputation to uphold, but glory, his Mama taught him manners and he’d be damned if he didn’t use them. And deep down he knows Cherry isn’t like the other soc girls because she was nice to him once in first grade and he’s never ever forgotten it.

He nearly shudders at the memory. The words “consonant digraph” are not ones he remembers anymore, all these years later, but way, way back when he was learning them he wanted to cry at the mention of it.

He’s brought back to first grade. It’s sometime in the beginning half of the year, and they’re doing some cut-and-glue activity with partners. He’s been paired with Sherri Valance because he’s always paired with her. They sit next to each other because their class sits in alphabetical order by first name, and they always do partner work with their neighbors.

There’s muffled yelling down the hall and another first-grade teacher pokes her head in and asks for backup, ‘cause one of her problem students is throwing chairs. Their teacher tells them she’ll be right back and heads out. Soda hears somebody who wasn’t in his class last year mutter to their friend, “Dallas, probably.” They see the principal speed-walking down the hall through the doorway, and then everyone loses interest and starts to get to work.

Sherri taps Soda on the shoulder.

“Can you write our names for me?” she says. “I’m going to go get scissors and stuff.”

She gets up and Soda looks at her nametag. He takes a whole minute to decode it. Sherri.

Goddamn digraphs. /sh/ and /ch/ are his worst enemies lately, and she’s got one of them in her name. He knows it’s real sad that he can barely tell which one. He feels butterflies in his stomach as he picks up his pencil. In the best possible handwriting he can muster up—writes her name. He is pretty sure he wrote it correctly, tries to read it aloud, and thinks he’s doing well until one of the kids at the desk pair behind him, Randy Adderson, laughs.

“What’d you just say?”

Soda is starting to understand now why Darry keeps telling him to stay away from the kids with the nice backpacks and brand-name shoes.

“You’re copying off her nametag and you still spelled it wrong?” Randy sneers, and his friend Bob Sheldon looks over too, and starts to grin. Soda’s butterflies turn into rocks.

“I just wrote her name. Sherri.”

But his mouth does that thing again where the word doesn’t sound quite right coming out of his mouth as it did in his head and he can feel his cheeks heating up. That always happens. Bob and Randy and their friends always make fun of him for it, too. He tries to make out the letters he wrote on the paper.

He did write a y instead of an i. And his S is kinda weird-looking, too.

Oh. He didn’t mean to do that. His pencil must’ve moved on its own again like it always does when his brain gets jumbled.

“Cherry, you said Cherry! Her name is Sherri! An’ I think you wrote it too, but who knows, I can’t read that at all!” Bob jeers at him loudly, and the whole class is starting to look over. Chet Baker, the kid who mentioned Dallas earlier, is laughing too, and he whispers something into the ear of his partner. Soon everyone is staring at him, and Soda feels like sinking into the floor. Bob revels in the glory of it all.

“Leave it to dumb ol’ Sodapop to mess it all up!”

The classroom explodes into laughter, like that was the greatest insult of all time and not some lame comment from little kid.

“I like it, actually,” a voice says suddenly and Soda thinks for a second it’s an angel come down to earth. But it’s just Sherri, and she’s handing Soda a glue stick.

“Cherry. I love that. It’s going to be my new nickname.”

She elbows him gently and smiles at him. Her eyes are so green. Soda thinks green eyes are his favorite; Cherry has green eyes, and so do both of his brothers and his dad. That’s almost all of his favorite people on Earth, except for his mom. Her eyes are brown, like his own.

“I really like it, Soda.”

He really likes it too. Soda wishes he could’ve stayed in first grade forever, sometimes, because back then Cherry always stood up for him and now…

Now they’re sixteen and when he goes to hand Cherry her books, she seems to come back to reality. Her face contorts into something angry, or maybe more defensive, as she snaps, “I don’t need your help, grease. Helping me pick up my books like some wannabe-gentleman… don’t you have a girl, anyway?”

He does. Sandy’s somewhere one floor up in English right now reading some Shakespearean tragedy about star-crossed lovers, and he hasn’t told her he’s dropping out yet, either. He loves—really loves—three people left in the world, two of them are his brothers and one, he thinks, is Sandy, and they’re the only ones of the people he really cares about that he hasn’t told about his plan.

Now that his parents are dead, they’re the only people left he’s truly terrified of disappointing. They’re the only people he ever talk to about his problems.

The only people he felt he could ever ask for help. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t anymore.

So why does it bother him so much when he has to ask Cherry Valance to move her foot because she's standing on a paper that might honestly be his lifeline?

He points it out to her and she goes, “Oh,” and picks it up for him. Even brushes the dust off. Soda watches her eyes scan the top of the paper before his face turns even more red and he has to rip it from her hand.

“You didn’t see shit, soc,” he snaps, and maybe it’s mean and out of character for the ever-so-charming Sodapop Curtis that is known to walk these halls, but he’s embarrassed. There’s a sinking feeling in his gut at the face Cherry’s making and his stomach somehow hurts even more.

Not hurts. He’s got butterflies.

He’s in love with Sandy though, and she loves him back, and who gives a damn if he’s been practically ignoring Cherry for a decade now. Who gives a damn if she was the only person from the entire west side of Tulsa to show up at his parents’ funeral. She’s always gone to their church and it was right after the regular Sunday morning service and it doesn’t mean shit. Even if he didn’t have a box under his bed he’s been filling with cash for a ring to marry Sandy one day, Cherry wouldn’t matter, because she’s a soc and he’s a greaser and he might not be in even the average level English class like Sandy is, but Soda asked his mom about it once back when Darry was in sophomore year and was reading it and so he knows how Romeo & Juliet ends.

Soda’s in love with Sandy. She loves him back. He flips the collar of his flannel up because he’s a greaser and he’s gotta look tuff or tough or whatever and keeps walking.

“Sodapop!” Cherry calls, and he shouldn’t turn around but there’s classes going on right now and no one’s watching them.

“What?”

“I just—you aren’t stupid. You just learn different than everybody else. You don’t have to do this.”

He stares at her. Maybe she is still kinda nice. But nice girls don’t date guys like Bob Sheldon who’ve picked on him for a decade now because sometimes he talks funny and because he can’t read or write or do anything like people his age are supposed to, on top of everything else that comes with being a greaser.

Guys like Bob Sheldon who do nothing but get drunk and beat on poor kids like Johnny Cade until they aren’t themselves anymore and never will be again.

“School just ain’t going to be the same without you brightening up everyone’s day, Soda,” Cherry calls after him, but he pushes through the door to the stairwell and pretends her words aren’t eating him alive.

“It just ain’t fair you never got any help!”

He wanted to be a teacher once. So did his mom, once upon a time, that meant college, and she had no money and had a baby at eighteen, so she never even had a shot of working in a daycare. And Soda’s dumb and nobody wants a dumb teacher, so he’s never going to be able to make a difference in the lives of kids like him.

Cherry’s right, he never got any help. That’s why he wanted to be the one to help the next generation. But it’s not going to happen.

She stood up for him once. She used to check his work for him before he handed it in. She would whisper-read when they were supposed to be reading silently so he’d understand the passage. They just can’t talk about it anymore because they grew up.

There aren’t many things he’ll miss about Will Rogers High School, but Cherry Valance is admittedly going to be one of them.

Another thing he won’t miss—the grouchy secretary he’s got to hand in the form to. When he gets to the office she gives him a nasty look that just screams get back to class, hood! or maybe something more along the lines of what’s this idiot doing here? He blow in on the way to stupid town?

…Maybe it’s an oh great, another greasy little troublemaker sent to the office.

Clearly that’s the right one, because the first thing she says is “What’d you do? I ain’t gotten a call up or nothin’.”

“I have this withdrawal form to hand in. I talked to our case worker with social services, she says she confirmed with you guys here that my dad’s signature should still be good enough even though he…?”

She swipes the form out of his hands and glances over it. “I’ll have the principal look at it. Get back to class.”

Soda turns, fully intent on finding his backpack and then walking out a side door somewhere instead, and he’s still going to—but just as he’s walking out someone calls his name. He looks back over his shoulder and the principal has stepped out of his office.

“Mr. Curtis, can you do me a favor?” He asks, and Soda nods, just hoping it’s not to do with that form.

He’s handed an envelope, but it’s not for him.

To the Parent/Guardian of Ponyboy Michael Curtis, it says on the front. Soda’s confused.

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s an intake form for high school.”

“Pony’s in seventh grade. There’s a month left of school.”

“Yes, and his test scores are like nothing we’ve ever seen. He’s going to be coming here next year.”

“He’s in seventh grade. Sir, he never even hands in his homework on time! How’s he jumping ahead to ninth?”

“Mr. Curtis, please, just deliver that letter, would you? Saves me the trouble of having to mail it myself. Glory knows you of all people should understand not wanting to waste money on a stamp.”

The butterflies in Soda’s stomach from earlier turn to rocks and he feels like he’s being weighed down again. “I understand just fine, sir.”

He walks back to class, grabs his backpack and walks all the way home.

That night Darry talks about throwing a party for their little brother and Soda has to grin and bear it, because he’s honestly jealous as all hell. He’ll never admit it, though, because he’s as jealous as he is proud of Ponyboy.

But now he’s never going to be able to tell them he dropped out.

Not when Pony’s immediate reaction to the letter is “I get to go school with Soda next year?”

(He then adds, “and Johnny?” but Soda missed that part because he was too busy wallowing in his own guilt.)

Ponyboy’s going to hate this, he thinks the world and more of Soda and he’ll probably find a way to blame Darry for it. But it’s not Darry’s fault, it isn’t their parents’ fault or anybody’s except Soda’s brain for not working like it should. He thinks if his brothers fight tonight he’ll either lose it and kill them both or never stop crying, so he doesn’t tell them that night.

He doesn’t tell them for a month, not until it’s the last week of school and it’s pouring rain and Darry’s roofing job gets canceled for the day. He comes home early to find Soda sitting on the couch watching cartoons because it’s too early to head out to the DX. The clothes he left the house in that morning for school are drying on the radiator and Soda’s nose is red and Darry has to put the worry he’s going to get sick from walking home in the rain aside.

Ponyboy thinks Darry didn’t yell at Soda for dropping out. Well, he wasn’t home for the fallout.

For the “I know school is hard for you. If you really needed a day off, little buddy, you coulda told me instead of skipping. I’ll go call the school now and say you’re sick.”

And the “Sodapop Patrick, what the hell do they mean you ain’t been enrolled at Will Rogers for a month now?”

Or the horrible silence as Darry has to drive Soda to the DX for work in the pouring rain just so whatever cold he definitely caught that morning won’t get worse before it even starts.

No, Ponyboy won’t find out about any of it until he’s back to school shopping in August and jokingly asks Soda if he’s throwing in the towel this year because he’s not buying anything, and Soda casually tells him he’s not going back to school. That working full time at the DX over the summer wasn’t just a summer thing. It doesn’t go over well.

Darry carpools to work on the first day of Pony’s freshman year, because Soda practically begged him to let him have the truck to bring Pony to school alone that morning. Normally the kid would’ve walked, but Soda knows how big of a day this is, and their mom used to always make sure they didn’t have to walk on the first day, not even to the bus stop when they were in grammar school.

They pull up to the curb by the front doors and Soda can see Steve and Two-Bit and Johnny waiting for Ponyboy. He really appreciates Johnny for that. He never goes anywhere in the school that socs go unless there’s a teacher in the room, after he got jumped at the end of the last school year.

It figures he’d show up for Ponyboy, though. If Johnny isn’t with Dally—who’s not there because he got locked up after taking the blame for busting out a bunch of school windows last year even though Two-Bit did that—he’s with Ponyboy. They’re just close like that.

(Actually, Soda’s pretty sure Dally got himself arrested either because he’s simply self-destructive, or so he wouldn’t give himself a chance to kill anybody for what happened to Johnny, but that’s not really the point.)

Soda turns off the engine of the truck and turns to his brother.

“You ready?”

Ponyboy shrugs. He’s chewing on his thumbnail, a nervous habit the three brothers share. Soda gently pushes his arm down, getting Pony’s hand away from his mouth.

“You’re gonna do great, Pony. You might be young but you’re smarter than everybody in there. You’re the smartest guy I know.”

“You know Darry.”

“Darry’s Darry. He’s smart but he’s like—perfect, yknow? He don’t count. And he an’ I both reckon you’re smarter than he’ll ever be. You’re goin’ places, Pony. Really, truly going places. We both know it. You’re on your way up in the world, you’re gonna go so far.”

“People said that about Darry. Look at him now. He’s just a college dro—” Ponyboy cuts himself off and Soda knows why.

“Show ‘em what for, Pony,” he says. “Show ‘em what us Curtises are really made of, okay? Darry gave up his chance for us, but…if anybody’s gonna make it outta this place it’s gonna be you.”

Because Ponyboy was made great things, and Soda wasn’t, and he might still be jealous but his baby brother is going to kick ass in high school.

Soda hugs him and Pony gets out of the truck, and as he starts to walk away, Soda rolls the window down and he calls out:

“Hey, Pony, if you meet a girl named Cherry, tell her I said hi!”

Pony rolls his eyes and waves. Soda laughs to himself as he drives off.

Ponyboy Curtis, talking to a soc girl. Imagine that.

He’s too busy laughing at his own joke to notice Sandy on the sidewalk as he drives past, heading up the steps into the school practically hand-in-hand with a guy who isn’t him.

He does see a girl with auburn hair walking up to school, frowning, and Bob Sheldon’s got an arm around her.

“Great job, Soda! Mrs. Larkin, look how good Sodapop’s doing! He nearly finished the whole worksheet and didn’t give up once!”

“You aren’t stupid. You just learn different than everybody else.”

Soda turns the radio on. “All You Need Is Love” blasts through the speakers. The truck’s windows are down as he heads for the exit of the school’s parking lot.

One head turns.

But Sandy doesn’t like the Beatles.