#give us more of the platonic relationships steve

[bisexualchrissycunningham]

Salty confession time: everytime Maya opens her mouth I dislike her more. It's totally irrational (not to mention rare cause I usually only dislike men) and yet...

[corrodedbisexual]

@waning-croissant well... I had to.

"Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero," Eddie talks as he keeps walking, a step ahead of Steve. "I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week."

Eddie's not even sure what he's saying anymore, he just knows that if he doesn't keep talking over the nightmarish ambience of this hellscape, he might actually go insane. Hearing his own voice, he can at least pretend like he's just narrating a game, and the rest is his overactive imagination. Not that he actually believes that, of course, it's just... irrationally comforting.

"Give yourself a break, man."

Steve reaches for him, but Eddie's body reacts on autopilot to an unexpected touch, practically slapping the boy's arm away. He's on a roll here, words still spilling right over the all-too-late pang of regret in his chest. It would have been nice to experience, that pat on the chest or squeeze on the shoulder, whatever Steve was going for, if it weren't for Eddie's perpetual skittishness.

"See? The only reason—"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"—I came in here was 'cause—"

"Eddie!"

Eddie's head snaps to Steve as he cuts off the rest of his semi-planned speech, which was suddenly inspired by the sight of Nancy Wheeler ahead of them. If he was the cowardly bard in the story, the least he could be useful for is cheer on the real hero of it. Give the courageous bat-biting paladin the motivation to keep fighting.

"Huh?"

"Do you ever stop running your mouth and listen?" Steve's brows are furrowed, but his tone isn't mean, and there's an amused smile playing on his lips. "You're almost worse than Dustin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie opens his mouth, lets his jaw hang for a second, and closes it again with a click of the teeth, as he processes the words he would have perceived as an insult, had he not been piecing together what the kid meant to Steve for the past several days. It was a bit of a revelation that their relationship ran far deeper than just some giant one-sided platonic crush on Dustin's part, like Eddie had mistakenly assumed throughout most of this year.

Steve takes a small step closer, the first one to invade Eddie's personal space for once, after Eddie's been doing it for the better part of their walk together. Unconsciously, like his body just decided that being tucked into Steve meant safety from the bloodthirsty bats, and the creepy vines, and that Vecna guy they could run into any minute.

"We all ran, all four of us. Just now, when we saw that giant swarm of bats in the distance, remember?" Steve speaks softly, waving his arm vaguely in the direction behind them. "Because sometimes, running and surviving is the only thing you can do."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He just focuses on looking at the boy's eyes, like a normal person, and trying not stare at his lips moving. But then, when he pauses, Steve's eyes flicker down, and... huh. Huh. Wait, what?

"Of course you've been running. You couldn't have fought Vecna when he took Chrissy. Or Carver's crazy mob, or the entire police force of Hawkins," Steve keeps talking intently, looking into Eddie's eyes again like his gaze never wavered south. "Any more than we could fight that whole swarm. Because we'd definitely be dead now if we tried, no matter how metal you think I am," he adds with a tiny smug smile that's entirely Eddie's fault. "So there's a difference between being a coward, and acting stupid and reckless."

Steve pats his shoulder twice, then turns and keeps walking, and Eddie moves to follow him like on a tether, before his flustered brain even catches up.

"H-hey, I never said you were metal! I said what you did with that bat was metal," he grumbles, thankful for the darkness concealing his undoubtedly flushed face.

"I beg to differ," Steve turns around to tease, grinning, and pointedly tugs on his own collar. "You're the resident metalhead, and I'm wearing your vest, that does make me at least a little bit metal."

Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Harrington. Eddie's not sure what possessed him to throw that thing at the boy. At the time, he only thought of how he wouldn't survive the whole ordeal of Steve's hairy tits on display for much longer, but him in Eddie's clothes? Even worse.

"Fine," Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, catching up to Steve in three quick strides. "Only a little bit though." He sneaks a glance at the boy; Steve's not looking back, once again on guard, surveying their surroundings with his flashlight, but the pleased smile makes its way to his face regardless.

"Doesn't matter why you jumped after us, Munson, you're here now. And don't try to act all modest when you've just saved a guy's ass. Which, by the way..." Steve turns his head to Eddie again. "Nice job with that oar. Too bad you hate jocks, you'd have made a fine hitter on the school baseball team."

Eddie gasps and grips his own chest in mock offense, even as warmth spreads up his neck and pools in the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden beneath his hair.

"How dare you, with these vile insinuations."

"I'm just saying," Steve shakes his head, laughing. "You're pretty... bat-ass, too, Eddie." He glances over again with a shit-eating grin. "Get it? Bat-ass?"

"Oh no, Steve Harrington is actually a dork with terrible puns," Eddie mumbles to himself and sighs, rolling his eyes up to the dark sky.

"Shut the fuck up, my puns are amazing." Steve elbows him in the ribs and chuckles. "You know what, I'm starting to understand why Henderson was obsessed with getting us to hang out."

What is that supposed to mean?

"He... he was?" Eddie gapes.

Another earthquake saves him from the mortifying ordeal of re-assessing the whole Munson doctrine, for the hundredth time this week. And as they hurry along to catch up with the girls, and Steve's hand grips his bicep whenever he falls behind, Eddie wonders if maybe he should just set fire to the doctrine and let it turn to ash.

[steddieas-shegoes]

stuck

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘plug’

rated m | 437 words | cw: hospital | tags: modern era, platonic stobin, pre-relationship, getting together, highly embarrassing moment

😅😅😅😅😅😅😅😅😅

Robin was quiet on the ride to the emergency room. She was quiet while they waited for x-rays and a doctor to examine Steve. She was quiet when they took Steve into a private room.

But once the nurse told her she could go in to sit with Steve while they monitored him, she started in on him.

“I cannot believe you got a plug stuck in your ass.”

“Robin, please.”

“What was the end goal?”

“Definitely not to be here. With you. Listening to this.”

Steve closes his eyes and leans his head back against the hospital bed. They didn’t even give him an IV, or pain meds, or anything but a stern look and suggestion to avoid using something of “this size” again.

“You cannot tell Eddie.”

“You think he won’t find out?” Robin sat down on the side of the bed. “Why keep it from him?”

“Because he’s the one always telling me to come to him if I need advice with toys and stuff and I was too shy and he’ll give me that sad look like he thinks I don’t trust him and I do! I trust him more than anything! It’s just asking him about that stuff makes me wanna kiss him and let him use those toys on me and do whatever he wants to me, actually.”

“Steve.” Robin laughs. “Isn’t that all the more reason to just tell him? He doesn’t exactly offer his advice to any of his other friends. Don’t you think that means something?”

“It means he’s just nice to the dude who has no idea what he’s doing,” Steve sighs.

There’s a knock on the door and Steve tells the person to come in, assuming it’s a nurse.

It’s not.

It’s Eddie.

“I texted him the moment you called me, dumbass.” Robin explains as she stands up. “He’s your problem now, dude.”

Steve’s too busy blubbering to stop Robin from walking out of the room. Eddie sits in the chair and folds his leg over his knee.

“So you didn’t get something with a flared base.”

His tone is too knowing.

“I didn’t think it would keep going.”

“But it did.”

“It sure did.”

Eddie and Steve stare at each other in silence for a moment before they burst into laughter.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?”

“To dig the plug out of my ass?!”

“To put one in there in the first place!”

“You would want to?”

Eddie slides onto the bed, doesn’t waste time at all, leaning in to kiss the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“Yeah, Stevie. I would really love to.”

[amirasainz]

The beginning

This is the first part of the "Sunshine behinde the camera" story. I hope you all enjoy reading this and I'll try to update as soon as possible. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for the next chapters, let me know. I'll try to include them. Have funy and enjoy!

-XoXo

Summary: After the winter break, Lando and Oscar get informed that they will get a new team photographer. However, despide being only 18 years old, the drivers are both impressed with her work. After meating her, Isabela immediately worms her way into their hearts.

All the relationships are platonic!!!

Part 2

“So, we believe that if we keep including fun games and other drivers, like Charles or Fernando, in our activities, our follower count will increase by 43 people per day,” concluded Charlotte, the head of McLaren’s Media team, with a confident smile.

It was the first day back from the winter break and the very first meeting of the 2024 season. The meeting room was bustling with energy and anticipation. Mechanics, PR personnel, factory workers, test drivers, managers, and more filled the space, eager to kick off the new season. Of course, the four most important people were Oscar, Lando, Andrea, and Zak, who sat at the front, ready to lead the charge.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you heard it. We have a promising outlook for the new season. To finally end your suffering, we wish you all the best and a good start to the new season,” joked Andrea, eliciting laughter and lightening the mood in the room.

Neither Lando nor Oscar could go far before Zak called them over. “Boys, Andrea, Charlotte, and I will need you for a few minutes. Please wait in meeting room C for us.” Before the drivers could ask their boss about this “secret” mini-meeting, he moved on to speak with one of the mechanics, leaving them curious.

“What do you think this is about?” asked Lando, walking with his teammate towards their destination. “I have no idea. Maybe one of us messed up on social media,” replied Oscar, seemingly unbothered by the private meeting.

After entering the room and waiting for a few minutes, the other three adults joined them. “Sorry for our tardiness, boys,” apologized Charlotte, always the considerate one. “No worries,” assured her Oscar.

“Boys, we have some big news for you,” began Andrea. “As you all know, Steve, our team photographer, and his wife were expecting a baby at the end of the season. During the winter break, Steven called me and informed me that it wouldn’t be possible for him to continue his job as our team photographer,” continued Charlotte.

Charlotte went on, “He said that he wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life as much as possible, and having to travel a lot during the year is neither helpful for his wife nor something he desires. So, we came to the conclusion that Steven would become the new McLaren factory photographer, you know, to give our fans some behind-the-scenes insights.”

“This means we were put in a position to find a new team photographer. Someone who isn’t bound to one place,” added Zak. He shared a relieved smile with Andrea before turning his attention to the drivers. At this point, both racers were sitting on the edge of their seats.

“Her name is Isabela Ferreira. She is a lovely young woman from Brazil, and her work is incredible,” Charlotte said, handing out folders containing samples of Isabela’s past work. “Wow, these look really good,” muttered Oscar. Both he and Lando wore impressed expressions.

“Not only is she a pro with the camera, as you can see for yourselves, but Steven also approved her work. In fact, he was the one who recommended her to us. To be honest, without his recommendation, we probably wouldn’t have hired her,” said Andrea.

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, what do you mean by that?” he asked, glancing at Oscar, who shared the same puzzled look. The three adults exchanged glances, silently agreeing to be open with the drivers.

“Well, even though her work is phenomenal, she is still very young,” started Zak hesitantly. “She turned 18 a few days ago, which makes her the youngest member of the team,” he continued. Both racers had surprised expressions. “But that means she’s still a baby,” stated Lando. Both drivers were trying to absorb this new information. All in all, it wasn’t actually a big problem for the team to employ someone so young; it was just unusual in the Formula 1 world. Typically, people started working for the teams at 24, drivers excluded.

Zak continued, “We understand that her age might raise some eyebrows, but we believe in her talent and potential. Steven’s endorsement was a significant factor in our decision. We are confident that Isabela will bring a fresh perspective and innovative ideas to our team.”

Andrea added, “We also plan to provide her with all the support she needs to succeed. She will be working closely with our experienced staff, and we are committed to ensuring a smooth transition for her.”

Oscar, always the pragmatic one, asked, “What about her travel arrangements? Will she be able to handle the rigorous schedule?”

Charlotte responded, “We’ve already discussed this with her, and she’s fully aware of the demands of the job. Isabela is excited about the opportunity and ready to embrace the challenges. We will also make sure she has the necessary resources and support to manage her responsibilities effectively.”

Lando, still processing the news, said, “Well, if Steven believes in her, that’s good enough for me. I’m looking forward to working with her.”

Oscar nodded in agreement, “Same here. It’s going to be interesting to see her in action.”

Zak smiled, “That’s the spirit, boys. Let’s give her a warm welcome and make sure she feels at home with us.”

“Look, we know this is a surprise for both of you. Trust us, we were surprised as well. But that doesn’t change the fact that she has incredible talent. We just wanted you both to be prepared for when you meet her,” reiterated Zak, his tone serious yet reassuring.

After a moment of silence, Charlotte continued, “Let’s be honest. She is an 18-year-old girl, very far away from home. She doesn’t know anyone here and will be working closely with both of you most of the time. We ask you, no, we three ask you, to keep an eye on her. This is something completely new for her, and she will need support and reassurance from us. And let me tell you, she truly is a ray of sunshine. Trust me, you’ll fall in love with her the minute you meet her.”

“It’s true,” confirmed Andrea. “She walked in here with the biggest smile anyone has ever seen,” eliciting chuckles from those in the room. “Well then, I guess it’s time we finally meet this lovely girl,” stated Oscar. Charlotte let out a relieved smile before beckoning the drivers to follow her. “She’s currently at the practice track, trying out some new lenses. Oh, I can already see it. The three of you will cause chaos around the paddock,” she smiled like a proud mother. Behind her back, the papaya boys shared an amused smile.

As they walked towards the practice track, Lando and Oscar exchanged curious glances. “I wonder what she’s like,” mused Lando. “If she’s as good as they say, we’re in for a treat,” replied Oscar.

When they arrived at the track, they saw a young woman with a camera, intently focused on capturing the perfect shot. Her concentration was palpable, and her passion for her work was evident. Charlotte called out to her, “Isabela, come meet the team!”

Isabela turned around, her face lighting up with a bright smile. She approached them with a confident stride, her camera still in hand. “Hi, I’m Isabela. It’s so nice to meet you all,” she said, her voice warm and friendly.

Lando and Oscar introduced themselves, both impressed by her professionalism and enthusiasm. “We’ve heard a lot about you,” said Lando. “Welcome to the team,” added Oscar.

“Thank you! I’m really excited to be here and work with all of you,” Isabela replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

As they chatted, it became clear that Isabela’s youthful energy and fresh perspective would be a valuable addition to the team. The drivers felt a sense of protectiveness forming. The only 18 year old girl already wormed her way into their hearts like she did with the other people she met before.

“So, you’re into photography. How did that come about?” Lando inquired. He, Oscar, and Isabela were seated in the cafeteria after Charlotte had sent them inside. According to her, it was far too windy outside for them to spend time on the track. Thus, the trio decided to warm themselves up with some tea and coffee.

“Well, to be honest, my Avó Berta introduced me to photography. After my parents divorced, my father had to work tirelessly to support both me and my grandmother. We had nothing; we lived in the favelas of Rio. That’s why my father juggled three jobs, ensuring we always had food on the table and a roof over our heads,” Isabela began.

“Wow, that must have been tough,” Oscar commented, his eyes wide with empathy.

“It was,” Isabela nodded. “Because of that, us girls were often alone at home. But after a few years, my Avó Berta fell ill and became bedridden. I always loved recounting my days and all the new things I saw to her. However, after some months, she began to forget the things I told her about and what they looked like. So, for seven months, I saved up all my money to buy a camera. Mind you, it was only a cheap one, but it immediately printed the pictures,” she said, laughing lightly. At this point, both Lando and Oscar had somber smiles on their faces.

“That’s so sweet of you,” Lando said softly. “It must have meant a lot to her.”

“It did,” Isabela replied. “So, the next time I told my grandmother about the latest adventure my friends and I had, I was also able to show her the pictures. And if she forgot after a few days, the photos helped to jog her memory.” After a moment of hesitation, she continued.

“Sadly, my grandmother passed away that same winter, so she never got to see the new camera my father bought me for my birthday,” she murmured. Oscar placed his hand on top of hers, causing Isabela to look up. “Your grandmother sounds like a real badass,” he told her, eliciting not only a laugh from the girl but also from his teammate.

“She really was,” Isabela agreed, her eyes shining with fond memories.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what about your mother?” Lando asked hesitantly. “Lando!” Oscar looked shocked at Lando while kicking his foot under the table. Isabela laughed again before continuing. “It’s alright, Oscar. Lando’s just curious. Well, my mother left us when I was two. One day she was there, and the next day she wasn’t. She just packed her bag and left us. No goodbye letter, no SMS. Nada. Which is also the reason why my grandmother despised her.”

“That’s harsh,” Oscar said, shaking his head. “How did you cope with that?”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t really remember much about her. The only thing I know is her name and what she looks like. The only thing I have from her, besides my looks, is a letter that she sent me on my 16th birthday,” Isabela explained.

“Did you ever try to find her?” Lando asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I thought about it,” Isabela admitted. “But I realized that my life was full with the people who stayed. My father, my Avó Berta, my friends, and my passion for photography. They were enough for me.”

“Wow, I’m honestly… impressed,” said Oscar. “After everything that happened, you turned your passion into your profession. That is something nearly no one achieves,” whispered Lando. His heart felt heavy. How could her mother ever leave this sweet girl? And then, after 14 years, only send a letter? Isabela could only muster a small smile for her new friends.

“Thank you, guys. It means a lot to hear that,” she said, her voice filled with gratitude.

After that day, the three of them only grew closer. The drivers understood what their boss meant when he said Isabela was a ray of sunshine. Each morning, she greeted everyone with a smile that rivaled the sun. Her cheerful demeanor and genuine interest in others quickly made her a beloved figure at the factory. Sometimes she spent time with the PR team, assisting them in devising new challenges. Other times, she conversed with the engineers and mechanics, inquiring about the new McLaren. They were always more than happy to indulge the young woman, often going out of their way to explain the intricacies of their work.

Isabela’s presence had a noticeable impact on the team’s morale. Her positivity was infectious, and she had a knack for making everyone feel valued and appreciated. The cafeteria staff adored her because she always took the time to chat with them and compliment their cooking. The security guards looked forward to her daily greetings, which brightened their long shifts. Even the usually reserved IT department found themselves smiling more often when Isabela was around.

But her favorite moments were those spent with Oscar and Lando. Oscar, with his calm and thoughtful demeanor, often shared stories about his racing experiences and offered advice on navigating the competitive world of motorsport. Lando, on the other hand, was the life of the party, always ready with a joke or a funny anecdote to lighten the mood. Instead of only spending time at the factory together, they watched movies at each other’s flats or went out for dinner. One time, they even went grocery shopping together, which ended with a half-new wardrobe for Isabela, 7 liters of milk for Lando, and a new TV for Oscar. How that happened, nobody knows.

During those few weeks in England before Testing, Isabela had the pleasure of meeting Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend. The two of them became best friends instantly. When Lando and Isabela arrived at Oscar’s flat for another movie night, it was also the first time the girls would meet each other.

Instead of the uncomfortable “Hey, I’m… Nice to meet you,” Isabela and Lily ran to each other for a hug. “Oh my gosh, hi! You look so pretty,” Isabela gushed while the girls still held each other. “Girl, you’re one to talk. You literally look like a goddess. I love that shirt,” Lily complimented her, making the Brazilian girl spin. “Really? I wasn’t sure if it was the right one for tonight. I didn’t want to be overdressed,” the younger one replied shyly. “Love, listen carefully. You are never overdressed. The people around us are just underdressed,” Lily assured her while leading her new best friend to the sofa. The girls sat so close to each other, practically sitting on each other’s laps, while talking about the newest paddock gossip.

Lando and Oscar only looked at the two with bewildered expressions. “What the…” “Just happened?” After another moment, their silence was interrupted by Lily, who ordered Oscar to “bring this cutie pie a refreshment. Oh, and Lando as well.” The only thing Lando could do was laugh so hard that tears started streaming down his face.

As the evening progressed, the group settled in for a movie. “What are we watching tonight?” Lando asked, still chuckling from earlier. “How about a classic? Maybe something like ‘Back to the Future’?” Oscar suggested. “Oh, I love that movie!” Isabela exclaimed. “It’s been ages since I last saw it.”

They all agreed, and soon the movie was playing. During a particularly intense scene, Isabela leaned over to Lando and whispered, “Do you think we could ever build a car like that?” Lando grinned, “With the right team, anything’s possible.”

@mclaren

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 3 673 297 others

Ladies and Gentlemen, we are haply to introduce you to our new team photographer, Ms. Isabella Ferreira. We are happy to have the 18 year old from Barsil as part of our family.🧡

tagged: @isabelaferreira, @landonorris, @oscarpiastri

Comments have been disabled

____________________________________

@mclaren & @isabelaferreira

liked by zakbrown, maxverstappen 2 650 385 others

2024, here we come 🤜🧡🤛

Comments:

@user1: OMFG they look so hot

@user2: Wait, those pictures look really good

@user3: this new photographer does an amazing job

@user4: "this photographer", girl he'd name is Ms Isabela Ferreira

@user5: I don't get why everyone is hyping up the girl. I mean, she just took some freaking pictures. That's bot so hard.

@user6: mate, stay jealous

@landonorris: let's goooooo

@oscarpiastri: 😸👍

@user7: LMFAO

@isabelaferreira: 🧡

[luveline]

If you’re looking for anything zombie!au for Steve, I’ve got a request! I sent it a while ago so if you don’t like the idea, please feel free to ignore!

I love that Steve has his own platonic soulmate—Robin—and has that person that will always be his friend no matter the circumstances. Their relationship means everything to me. I’d love to see reader maybe reunite with her “Robin”, as in her best friend and see her find that comfort in her person. Steve gets to see a new side of her and falls in love with her even more <3

zombie au —you reunite with your Robin. fem, 1.5k

“I’m grody.” 

“You’re not grody.” 

“I have greasy hair.” 

You shrug. Steve’s hair is a tad greasy, but it’s nothing you wouldn’t run your hands through. “Steve, I don’t think anybody alive today is judging you for having greasy hair.” 

You wanna call him baby, despite how foreign it can feel on your lips. He’s being adorable today, but the moment to dote on him passes quickly. Robin’s halfway across the campsite, her scratchy, mellifluous voice a ringer for her. You’d recognise it anywhere. 

“New recruits!” she’s saying, her head turning past her friend Sarah to spot you and Steve as you approach. “Hey, guys! Look, I lived.” 

Steve jogs until the gap between them is closed. “Hey, what did you do to your face?” he asks worriedly, his hand rising. 

She ducks away from his touch. “I got totally sliced.” 

“By who?” 

“This girl, Mina, she thought I was a geek, how gross is that?” Robin smiles at you. “I’m not that ugly.” 

“You’re not ugly,” you say. 

“I know!” 

Steve grins. “I wouldn’t be too sure.” 

“I know you don’t think I’m ugly, Steven.” 

You’re hit by two waves of memory, one after the other. The name Mina is hard to ignore: back then, before the end of the world, you had one good friend, and her name was Mina Delecki. You’d get into little spats like Steve and Robin do occasionally, but your friendship wasn’t as sarcastic. Which isn’t to say they aren’t loving, they are. Steve gives her arm a squeeze and promises to help her clean out the wound, and it reminds you of Mina and her scabbed knees. 

“She was nice, besides the attempted murder. They looked like they haven’t eaten in weeks though, the whole group, I’m surprised they didn’t try and rob us.”

“Well, not everyone is evil,” Steve says, wiping Robin’s cheek with his sleeve. “You’re okay?” 

“I’m fine. Does it look bad?” 

“Might need a butterfly stitch,” he says, grimacing. “It’s definitely gonna scar. Where is this Mina? I’d like to give her a piece of my mind.” 

“Steve, it was an accident.” 

“Well, maybe she should be aware that accidents aren’t usually subdermal.” 

“That’s a big word for you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Guys, come one. Did you eat?” you ask Robin. “Let’s go find dinner at the mess.” 

“Sure you’re okay?” Steve asks quietly. 

Robin lets him dote, for once. He slings his arm over her shoulder and steers her to the mess —a porta-building with a designated team of cooks reminiscent of your setup back at the College. There’s a small line by the door, but it’s not as busy inside as you’re expecting. You can spot the newbies from their skinniness, and their dirty clothes, but it looks like some of them have had a wash by the river, dripping hair wetting the backs of their necks. One girl laughs into her bowl of stew. Another cries. 

You know how it feels to be starving and afraid and then suddenly dropped into a community. It’s so scary, but it’s such a relief. 

“You wanna sit down?” Steve asks, rubbing Robin’s back before he lets her go. “What about you?” he asks you, turning away from her to offer you the same nice smile. “I can get yours.” 

“I’m alright.” 

Robin slugs off to a table at the back. “She looks really tired,” Steve says.

They take Robin because she’s slight; she can fit into places a lot of people can’t. But Robin wasn’t built for fighting, she still isn’t, and she’s obviously tired. 

“Well, maybe you should start putting your foot down,” you murmur, “you’re her family, so… if you say she shouldn’t go, maybe she won’t. And I don’t mean asking her not to. Maybe you should fight.” 

“I don’t wanna fight with her.” 

“Somebody took a slice out of her face,” you say. 

You know Robin likes you, even loves you, but it doesn’t feel like your place to get into that stuff. If somebody is gonna convince her to stay, it’ll have to be him. 

“I’ll talk to her about it.” He brings a hand to your waist. “I will, don’t worry. I don’t like it either.” 

“Your hand is cold?” you say. 

Steve tucks it quick as a flash behind your back, brushing your shirt up to touch naked skin. “Is it?” 

“You jerk.” You laugh louder than you mean to and step away from his touch. “This is why you need dinner, you’re freezing to death.”

Steve tries to get you again. He grabs you at the side, the chill of his hands palpable as he pulls you into him. Not to hold, but to be close while you wait, to take up as little room as possible. You both prefer proximity to each other. You let him warm his hands on your hips. 

You’re looking up into his face with a smile when someone says your name. 

A melodic voice. 

She says your name again and you feel it click. Mina’s on your mind, that’s all —yet you turn, and a familiar face is peeking out from behind wet, fine hair. An apocalypse, and somehow Mina Delecki hasn’t aged a day. 

“Mina?” you ask, holding Steve’s wrist tight on instinct. 

She rushes forward to meet you. Steve’s defences go up, his expression hardening as he pushes you behind him, but you slink around his rigid arm with a happy shout, “Mina!” 

Steve lets you go. You weave around a full table of onlookers with pushed out chairs and meet her in the middle, where she throws herself at you, a whirlwind of smell and touch. “Holy shit,” she says, sounding immediately wrought with tears, and joy, too. “I can’t believe you’re here!” 

You’re shocked out of speaking. 

Mina leans back. She holds your cheek, beaming so brightly, you’d forgotten how pretty she was. She is. 

“You’re alive!” she says, squishing your cheeks. “You’re here! Y/N, I looked for you!” 

“You did?” 

“I went to your house, you weren’t there, and we had to leave. I’m sorry, I thought… I missed you.” 

You’re further surprised. You did? you almost ask. “I missed you too.” 

She flings her arms around you for another hug. “I worried about you. Were you all alone?” 

“No, uh, no, no,” —you shake your head against her— “I had Steve. I have Steve. What about you?” 

“Well, my brother made us go to the Lake, but there was nothing that way, so we came back here. Thank god we did, ‘cos you’re here, this whole place, there’s so many people.” 

“There used to be more.” 

Mine squeezes you. “I missed you so much.” 

Your eyes finally burn. “I missed you too,” you say, hiding as your voice cracks. 

You and Mina just hug. 

Your shoulders give an embarrassing shake under her hands. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says, rubbing your back, her tone light, loving, and one you already know. “Don’t cry. I’m happy to see you, too.” 

“I’m so happy.” 

“That’s what I just said.”

You pull away from her to scrub your face. You’re laughing as you turn to Steve, excited, elated to introduce him. “Mina, this is Steve,” you say, taking his elbow into your hand, comforted by his arm slinking behind you. He pats your back. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

“King Steve?” 

Steve winces. “Just Steve.” 

“He’s nice now,” you say, grinning, “total reformation.” 

“Hi, Steve. My girl kept you alive, I’m guessing?” Mina gives him a smile, too. She’s only teasing, and Steve picks up on it easily. 

“She did… Hey, you’re not the Mina that cut a chunk out of Robin’s cheek, right?” 

“Hard to say. Which one’s Robin?” 

—

“Sorry, does it hurt?” Steve murmurs. 

Robin hugs her knees to her chest. “It’s fine, just be fast, please.” 

Steve knows it hurts. He’s dousing her wound with an antiseptic, he thinks it’s iodine, doesn’t really know. It’s not brown, but it smells strong. He washes the outside of the wound with a sterile gauze soaked in bottled water, and he pats it dry. The butterfly bandage he applies sticks at an awkward angle, but he pulls it closed tightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs again. 

“It’s fine. At least she got a friend out of it.” 

You sit a couple of metres away with some of the reserves of your candy haul and a few things you won’t miss. Socks, a sweater, a pack of chamomile soaps. Mina doesn’t want any of it, she just can’t seem to stop touching you. You’ve been holding hands for hours. 

“She seems really nice,” Steve says. 

“Gonna get jealous like you did with Eddie?” 

“She didn’t know Eddie before, she just likes him, which is weird.” 

“Not that weird.” 

“Maybe I am jealous,” he says. It’s strange to watch you hold hands with a new person, but it’s not like you and Robin haven’t done the same. The trust between you has solidified, and you use each other like pillows when you want to. “I don’t think I am? It’s nice to see her like that.” 

“Maybe you weren’t jealous at all, you just don’t like Eddie.” 

Steve laughs. 

There’s something about you, sitting there smiling, watching you talk a mile a minute as you explain something to her with no fear of judgement. You’re completely relaxed. 

“It’s actually really nice… to see her like that.” 

“You’re smiling like a creeper,” Robin says. 

“Whatever.” 

[vacantwatchers]

Platonic Stobin discuss Steve's relationship with Nancy. It's kind of critical on Nancy bc I'm biased (and a hater). Read it on Ao3 here.

“Explain to me why Henderson thinks you’re into Nancy again.”

“Fuck knows, Rob. I haven’t seen her around, let alone spoken to her since all that shit at the mall.” He didn’t really like the way she’d frowned at Robin when they’d met up, definitely hadn’t liked the antagonistic tone she used when she’d asked who Robin was.

Steve felt Robin sigh before the gentle weight of her head rested atop his. “The little gremlin cornered me at lunch and demanded to know why we weren’t dating–”

“I’m out of your league,” Steve muttered to her right hand as he slowly coated her index in the dark red polish.

“Keep believing that, Popeye. He asked me if I thought you were repugnant or something and that's why I wouldn't give you the time of day.”

Steve paused to swipe away polish with his nail. “What does repugnant mean?”

Robin hummed, a little delay as she tried to find a definition for him. Steve can imagine her flicking through a little rolodex that’s full of what Robin considers Steve approved explanations.

In the space of his waiting, he’d managed to finish the first coat on her right hand and gently lifted her hand up, smiling to himself at the way Robin moved from his hand to his shoulder.

(It took three weeks of working in Family Video, working back to back shifts so dead they made the burnt shell of Starcourt look lively for Robin to come in one day with a bulging pencil case and the demand that “if you’re just going to sit there, at least paint my nails, dingus.” It took three attempts with Robin smudging her nails with her flailing before they established that when he finished a hand, he would lift it, and she would rest it on his shoulder.)

“Repugnant is like when something is really distasteful, unacceptable.”

“Tammy Thompson’s muppet singing is repugnant.”

Robin snorted into his hair. “Perfect use of repugnant, Steve. It’s also a word you can use similar to revolting, repulsive, disgusting and offensive.”

Pulling her left hand closer to his right side so he could see what he was doing, Steve hummed. “Okay. So Dustin thinks you think I’m revolting, repulsive, disgusting, and offensive?”

“Yeah, Steve, I told him I just couldn’t date such a disgusting man who spends twenty minutes on his hair after a shower and ignores me every time I tell him he needs to go to an optometrist because the way he can’t see makes me sad. No. I said that while I am happy to spend my life with you as my soulmate, we are strictly platonic.”

Sliding the brush back into the bottle, Steve gently swiped his nail down the side of Robin’s thumb. “That absolutely didn’t shut him up. Give them a minute before I do the next coat.”

Robin nodded her understanding, which made him nod. “No, me saying that didn’t stop him. Me asking if the reason he was so interested in your love life was because he was the one with the crush on you, however, did.”

“Ew, Robin, he’s like my brother.”

“That is exactly what he said, just with a lot more volume and yelling.”

Steve leaned further into the weight of Robin at his back, taking a moment to absorb the fact that she lets him take whatever touch he needs without freaking out the same way she does whenever someone else tries to touch her in the slightest. Uses the pause to organise his thoughts out of the jumbled train they come at him in. “I’m not sure when, uh. When we dated, I’m not sure it was love.”

“Okay.” Robin’s hum tingled through his diaphragm. “Talk it through, you were convinced last year you’d loved her. Don’t even try to think it out for me like you do, just say it all.”

“The ol’ Robin treatment, huh?”

“I hate that that is what you call it, but yes. Please proceed.”

“We dated, and I tried to be there for her, right? Like I had to go to these absolutely depressing dinners with Barb’s family every fucking week, because Nancy thought it was the right thing to do and I had to pretend to eat the food, and I tried to give her space when it felt like she was pulling away. I’d take her out to get her away from thinking about it all because I could see that she was struggling and thought maybe doing normal shit teenagers did would help. Would sit with her and listen when she needed me to, or just be with her when she needed silence. I’d ask about how she slept, and if she was still having nightmares, I would reach out and just try and hold her hand or hug her.

“But, I don't know. I’ve been thinking back on it, and Nancy never really did the same shit back, y’know. She would have these moods where she’d just be so angry. Angry at herself, the situation. Me. And I get it, it was fucked up and we couldn’t tell anyone without the threat of being taken away. But she’d go on and on about how we killed Barb and it was our fault and then it would turn into how it was my fault she was dead. And then so often she would say this line and at first I was like, she’s saying it in this fond way so she doesn’t mean it, but she said it so oft–”

“What would she say?”

Steve tilted his head back so he could look up at Robin. “What?”

“Nancy. What would she say?”

“Oh.” Steve looked back down, fiddling with the nail polish bottle. “She’d say ‘you’re an idiot, Steve Harrington’ and she’d make these comments, and I don’t even know if she was aware of it. Like she’d call me dumb and say don’t be stupid, or imply that I wouldn’t be able to do something or understand because I wouldn't get it.

“And when she went over my work she’d say it never made sense, and like, her tone, her tone always said it because I wasn’t smart enough. Like, she’d read over things and point and make comments, and honestly, it was more confusing than anything because the points made sense to me, but apparently not to her–”

Robin made her little grunting sound. She did it every time she needed to interject something. “Yeah but that's like, your mind's process. You do it when you talk too, that structuring thing you do where you make these links to things, and it all somehow flows. My mom said you might have something called dyslexia or dysgraphia. One of those two.”

Steve looked up at Robin, eyebrows scrunching up. “You talk to your mom about me? When did she even have time to figure that out?”

“I talk about you to her all the time because we both love you. And she noticed when you were helping me with my English homework.”

Huh. “Okay then.”

“Keep going with what you were saying, sailorman.”

Seven months, and she still hasn't given up on the nautical nicknames. Jesus.

“After early admissions for colleges had closed, Henderson actually found the essay I wrote, and he said it was good. That the parallels were there and with only a little tweaking it would have been great, and when I mentioned what Nancy said he kind of paused before reading it again and said he didn’t see what she was talking about. He even had his mom read it because for a while, she was admin for a college, and she said it would have gotten me in. After Christmas, I asked Nancy if she wanted to go with me to tour some colleges once and she looked at me when I dropped some of the names and said, ‘Do you think they’ll believe you’d fit in there?'"

“Jesus Christ,” Robin muttered.

“It just, it built up and I think at the time I was blind to it because I was trying to lose myself in the relationship, in being there for her.”

“What about you?” Robin’s hand slid down from its perch on his shoulder to his chest so she could pull him closer. “Was she there for you? Like, you told me that since ‘83 you can’t eat meat because of the smell of burning demogorgon put you off, and that having to lure the demodogs with meat was really triggering. And I know you have trouble sleeping and you have those awful nightmares that make it so that sometimes you can’t eat.

“Which, can I just say, is really concerning because you already have this habit of forgetting to eat even when you’ve brought lunch. And I know it’s probably something to do with the way you get stuck into stock or shelving, but I hate it when you get into that groove. But I’ve also figured out that you will eat anything I hand to you, as long as I’ve taken a bite first, so it’s not that bad.”

Needing to move a little, Steve tightened the nail polish and started shaking the bottle.

“Oh, uh. Those dinners with Barb’s family, it was always KFC, that’s why I never ate anything there. She’d actually get annoyed because she thought it was disrespectful? That I only ate the bread and chips? And after that first night where Barb died, Nancy never came over to my house again because she said it had too many bad memories and it made her uncomfortable to be there. So she never really saw the nightmares. When she wanted to see me, she would have me come over and she’d push me on the bed and then when she was done she’d tell me it was getting late, and kind of push me towards her window to go.”

“Steve– that doesn't sound healthy at all.”

"Yeah."

Lifting the nail polish bottle, Robin took it as the signal it was and dropped her hand in his again.

“I think, even when I was dating her, she talked more to Jonathan than me.”

“That’s fucked up, Steve.”

“I think that’s just trauma, Bobby. We weren’t good together. I don’t know. Whatever Dustin is seeing between us is completely in his head. Especially considering the money moves I'm making with Operation Metalhead.”

“You need to stop saying money moves. All you've done is wave at him and blush when he loaned you a Megadeth tape.”

Gently guiding her hand back into his best field of vision, Steve started in on the second coat. “I don't know, sounds pretty money to me.”

Steve felt Robin inhale for a deep sigh, her warmth increasing against his back for a moment before she exhaled. "I think Eddie might have actually graduated before Operation Metalhead gets anywhere close to being a success."

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part two

part three: you search in every model's bed for something greater

Steve had been doing his best trying to go back to some semblance of normal after Eddie walked out of his life. It wasn't easy and he spent countless nights dreaming up how he could have handled it differently or made Eddie stay or call Robin immediately and beg her to let him tell Eddie (Steve knew she would have but he hadn't wanted to ask her). He knew he could have done countless things differently but the result probably would have ended up the same. At the end of the day, Eddie didn't trust him and at the most basic crux of everything nothing else really mattered.

He was happy for Nance and Robin though. That was the big secret of it all. Robin wasn't ready to come out publicly and Steve offered to let Nancy stay at his place so that if there was any press it would be tied to him and not Robin. Eddie came over at maybe the worst time before he had been able to clear everything with Robin and Nancy was still sleeping off the jet lag from whatever Eastern European country she was reporting in that month. Steve and Nancy had an on again off again thing as kids when they were both getting famous in their own fields having grown up in the same small town. Steve knew Nance was bigger than him but it still stung when they finally admitted it to each other.

Thankfully, the next project Steve was on he met Robin who was the light of his life and his soulmate. He'd been pretty convinced they'd get married at one point until Robin drunkenly admitted she was gay on the bathroom floor of some random afterparty their heads a little fizzy from the champagne. Their relationship quickly pivoted from romantic to platonic and Steve was more than happy to play arm candy to stave off any rumors Robin was sick of circulating. As the years passed and Robin and Steve's circles melded together, Robin and Nancy started gravitating together and even Steve couldn't deny they were kind of perfect together. He'd happily agreed to lend whatever subterfuge he could to keep the two out of the tabloids. Unfortunately he hadn't really thought about bringing his boyfriend in on the plot until a little too late. Fuck him for thinking Eddie would trust Steve though, right? Steve was trying to be more positive as he didn't want to burst Robin and Nancy's new relationship bubble with his grumpy attitude. Instead he was doing what he normally did after a bad breakup -- wallowing and forgetting it happened.

Tabloids followed him around and accused him of sleeping with everyone including Robin’s secret girlfriend but in reality he was mostly at home only scheduling nights out every so often to give the girls some privacy at his loft. Nancy had convinced Robin to head out to the Hudson Valley to have some alone time outside of Steve's apartment so Steve was using his night at home alone to rot on the couch flipping through channels until he spotted a familiar flash of dark curls hammering away on his guitar apparently playing some new single.

Steve was livid. He would’ve been pissed if he had found out about the song in a more low key way way like scrolling through TikTok or getting a text from Robin but he was fucking livid because he found out about the song when Eddie fucking Munson was on Jimmy Kimmel.

Apparently, Eddie had thought it would be fun to release an unexpected single ahead of his band’s rumored fourth album. Steve knew Eddie had to have seen the tabloid fodder after he started going out again making headlines about how his and Robin’s relationship was on the rocks and Steve was auditioning most of the city to take her place. However, he hadn’t expected for Eddie to believe all of the rumors about him. 

Steve's relationship with the tabloids had always been trying. From his very public breakup with Nancy (who everyone asserted won because she immediately starting seeing Jon) to his "slut era" before "settling down" with Robin and more recently to speculating on his relationship with Eddie and what happened with Robin. Steve and Robin had a pretty long discussion about how to handle Eddie and if she wanted Steve to keep Eddie quiet so they could continue playing up their relationship. Robin had given her blessing but Robin wasn't quite ready to come out to anyone outside their tight nit circle of friends even though Steve and Eddie quickly became inseparable. Eddie had understood when Steve told him about Robin's agent and how it was helpful if there were at least rumors of the two dating even though it couldn't be farther from the truth. While they hadn't been super public with their relationship fans of both Steve and Eddie speculated in comments to pictures and stories the two posted but the boys never confirmed anything other than a few cheeky hearts here and there.

Steve had learned about Eddie because one of this kids he grew up babysitting was a huge Corroded Coffin fan and begged Steve to bring him as his plus one to some award show the band was also nominated at. Steve tried to explain to Dustin that is was not common to just run into famous people while they were heading to the carpet but of course the universe proved him wrong and they were right behind Eddie Munson himself. Dustin never had any sense of social propriety so he went right up to Eddie and introduced himself. Steve had pretty quickly fallen for Eddie's quick wit and how kind Eddie was to one of Steve's kids. Steve hung back in the wings but became enamored with the man from afar. Later when they found themselves at the same 30 under 30 event Robin all but pushed Steve into Eddie to force him to finally talk to him. They pretty quickly fell into the rhythm of exclusivity and from there it was a short road to boyfriends.

Early on in their relationship, Steve had thought Eddie and him had gotten over the hump of his history with the press. When Steve and Eddie had started going out on dates without trying to be coy about anything, there was lot of rumors that Steve was cheating on Robin. It had taken a lot of long nights and talks but Eddie seemed to trust that so much of Steve's public persona was presented by reporters who were only looking for a story. Steve thought they'd moved past believing rumors about each other that the press loved to spin. Eddie's song made it pretty clear Eddie believed every shitty headline or tweet or deuxmoi that had come out about Steve fucking his way across town.

It wasn't like Steve could have even tried to set the record straight with Eddie. Steve had tried to contact Eddie shortly after reorienting a very confused and awake Nancy after Eddie slammed Steve's apartment door. Steve didn't tell Nancy exactly what happened but he did tell her that Eddie broke up with him. She held him as he sobbed and realized each way he had to contact Eddie was gone. He'd blocked his number, blocked all of his socials, turned off any messaging Steve could think of.

Steve was devastated Eddie thought Steve was the man the tabloids presented him as even thought he'd worked really hard to make sure all his found family knew he wasn't that person. Apparently Eddie had forgotten all of that. It certainly wasn't helping that Eddie's song was already a Tik Tok trend and Steve was enough of a masochist to scroll through the sound. Steve found far too many edits of him and Eddie timed to the chorus.

Steve felt like he couldn’t escape it or figure out how to at least tell his side of the story. Anything he said would just make him seem like an asshole for moving on so quickly or trying to cover up for cheating on his ex, so Steve kind of resigned himself to private wallowing.

In the end, it wasn't even really all of that that hurt Steve the most. Steve couldn't help but fixate on that one line.

at least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight

Steve was heartbroken that Eddie had already moved on. Steve may have been going out and putting on a smile at whatever club or restaurant he was passing time in that night. As much as the magazines wanted the world to believe Steve was finding a home in a new girl's bed every night, reentering his notorious bad boy era, Steve went home alone or found himself with Nancy and Robin cuddling on his couch. In Steve’s less than proud moments late at night when he lay awake staring at the ceiling, he’d pull up Eddie’s public insta and may or may not have set up a google alert for any references to Eddie or his band. None of that prepared him for the reality of hearing Eddie croon about his new relationship with someone who wasn't Steve.

Steve had been trying to keep the specifics of their breakup from Robin and Nance. He knew they'd both feel terrible and with no real way to contact Eddie it wasn't worth dragging Robin and Nancy down with him. After going down a Tik Tok rabbit hole listening to people say all kinds of terrible shit about him and doubting his sincerity with Eddie, Steve slunk out of his room to where Nancy and Robin were finishing up their Thursday night movie.

"Steve?" Robin asked as soon as she saw Steve wrapped up in his blanket, eyes puffy and red.

"Rob, I need to talk to you about something." Steve sat across from his friends, tucked his knees into his chest and got ready to dive into the reasons Eddie actually left.

part four

@lololol-1234 (we're getting close to the happy ending i promise)

(if you saw this version earlier when i forgot how i had these two fools meet, no you didn't)

[srslyblvck]

the devil you know, avengers

pairing: avengers x fem!reader, bucky x fem!reader

synopsis: the avengers seem really desperate as they come to you—the person who went under their skin like no one else to help them win against hydra. while they are walking on eggshells around you, you are having fun causing chaos.

warnings: mentions of y/n (maybe), blood, violence, gore

word count: 1.2k

chapter: 3/?

author's note: important!! so, would you guys like a platonic relationship with the avengers or a romantic? If romantic, bucky or tony would be nice and suitable. so, platonic or tony or bucky?

series masterlist

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ BACK AT THE AVENGERS compound, the post-mission debrief had been mercifully short. For once, you didn’t get a full Captain America lecture on “responsibility” and “teamwork.” Mostly because Steve seemed too busy trying to process how you had gone through that many Hydra agents and returned looking like you'd stepped off a battlefield from a Quentin Tarantino film.

Now, it was downtime—a rare moment when the team wasn’t trying to save the world. You were lounging on one of the compound's couches in the common room, legs kicked up, the power-suppressing cuffs still firmly locked around your wrists. Annoying, but you’d gotten used to them. For now, anyway.

Natasha and Clint were seated across from you, playing some kind of ridiculously intense game of cards, while Tony stood nearby with a glass of something dark and expensive, scrolling through his tablet. Bruce and Sam were in the kitchen, debating the finer points of post-mission recovery snacks, and Bucky, as usual, sat in the corner, watching you with silent suspicion.

“So,” you said, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. “Anyone going to acknowledge the fact that I saved the day back there, or are we just pretending like that didn’t happen?”

Clint didn’t even look up from his cards. “Yeah, I’ll pass on the standing ovation.”

“You know, I get that a lot,” you said, flashing him a grin. “People pretending they don’t appreciate me. It’s cute, really.”

Tony snorted from behind his tablet. “I think you’re confusing ‘appreciation’ with ‘barely tolerating.’ Common mistake.”

You sat up, stretching your arms out, the cuffs clinking softly with the movement. “Oh, come on, Stark. Don’t act like you weren’t impressed when I pulled that little vanishing trick earlier. Admit it, you thought I was gone for good.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, glancing at you over the rim of his glass. “Impressed? I was more focused on how Sam nearly had a heart attack when you popped up like a horror movie villain.”

Sam, hearing his name, poked his head out from the kitchen. “Yeah, don’t remind me. I don’t need that kind of stress in my life.”

You grinned. “What can I say? I’m good at making an entrance.”

“Or an exit,” Natasha muttered, throwing a card down. “You didn’t have to make that base look like a crime scene, you know.”

“I was being efficient,” you replied with mock offense, clutching your chest theatrically. “Besides, they were Hydra agents. No one’s shedding a tear for them.”

Bucky, sitting quietly with his arms crossed, finally spoke up. “Efficient? You looked like you went through a meat grinder.”

“Yeah, but it was a stylish meat grinder,” you shot back, giving him a wink. Bucky rolled his eyes but said nothing more.

Tony set his tablet down, walking over to where you were sprawled on the couch. “Okay, let’s talk about those cuffs,” he said, gesturing at your wrists. “How are you feeling? Any tingling? Loss of sensation?”

You waved your cuffed wrists in the air nonchalantly. “Feeling like I’ve been shackled for no good reason, Stark. Other than that, just peachy.”

Tony ignored the jab and tapped on his wrist as a holographic display flickered to life in front of him. “Good. Because those cuffs are tuned specifically to block your powers without cutting off circulation or, you know, frying your nervous system. Pretty cutting-edge stuff.”

“Cutting-edge? They’re glorified handcuffs, Tony,” you shot back, twirling your wrists. “And honestly, the fact that I’m still wearing them after all the fun I’ve had with you guys seems a little unfair.”

“Oh, don’t even start,” Clint muttered. “You got way too into that fight back at the base.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t get winded so easily, I wouldn’t have had to,” you teased, leaning forward and throwing your feet off the couch. “Honestly, guys, it was like you wanted me to do all the heavy lifting.”

Natasha smirked at that, not looking up from her hand of cards. “You enjoy the heavy lifting.”

“Yeah, okay, true,” you admitted, tossing your hands up. “But you can’t blame me. It’s not my fault Hydra doesn’t know how to hire proper security.”

Tony walked over to the minibar, pouring himself another drink. “You say that now, but I’m the one who has to deal with the cleanup bill when you get a little too... enthusiastic.”

You leaned back again, propping your arms up on the couch. “Oh, come on, Tony. Think of it this way—it’s great for morale. I’m keeping you all sharp.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “By scaring the crap out of everyone?”

“Exactly!” you exclaimed, grinning wide. “Fear is a great motivator.”

Before anyone could respond, Sam emerged from the kitchen, holding a bowl of popcorn. “Can we talk about how you almost gave me an actual heart attack when you showed up on the quinjet covered in blood?” He looked at you with mock indignation. “I’ve had a long week.”

You gave him an innocent look. “I didn’t think you’d scare so easily, Wilson. You know, with all your fancy flying and all.”

Sam just rolled his eyes, plopping down next to you on the couch and shoving the popcorn bowl in your direction. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Next time, you’re sitting in the back with Clint.”

Clint’s head snapped up. “Hey, leave me out of this.”

You chuckled, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing a piece into your mouth. “You guys are too sensitive. You act like I’m the wild card or something.”

“Because you are the wild card,” Tony replied dryly, swirling his drink. “That’s literally your job here.”

You grinned wider, kicking your feet back up onto the coffee table. “I prefer to think of myself as... spontaneous.”

“More like a walking disaster,” Clint muttered under his breath.

“Hey, disaster with flair,” you corrected, pointing a finger at him. “Big difference.”

Steve walked in just then, giving everyone a once-over, his expression softening when he saw you lounging comfortably in the middle of the chaos. “Everyone getting along?”

You flashed him a playful grin. “As well as can be expected, Cap. We were just talking about how I saved the day—again.”

Steve crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

You shrugged. “I’m just saying, Hydra didn’t stand a chance. Honestly, I made it too easy for you guys.”

Bucky scoffed. “You’re lucky we didn’t leave you behind.”

You smirked, raising your cuffed wrists again. “Oh, please. We all know I’m the life of the party.”

Before Steve could respond, Tony clapped his hands together, clearly ready to move on. “Alright, alright. Enough banter. Let’s talk about something important. Dinner plans.”

You perked up. “Oh, now we’re talking. Chinese, like I said. But not that Panda Express garbage. I know a place.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and your fancy hole-in-the-wall joints,” Tony said, rolling his eyes but clearly intrigued. “Alright, fine. I’m in.”

Natasha laid her cards down, looking up with a glint of amusement in her eyes. “As long as it’s not one of those places where the menu’s in another language and no one speaks English.”

You shrugged, leaning back with a mischievous smile. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The room filled with easy laughter, and for once, you could almost forget the tension that usually came with being around the Avengers. Almost.

Even with the cuffs on, even with their eyes still watching you like you were a ticking time bomb, you had to admit—you kind of liked being here.

Not that you’d ever tell them that.

[bgwlsmahf25]

After All This Time

Pairings: mom!Natasha x teendaughter!Reader; Wanda x Natasha; Wanda x teendaughter!Reader (platonic); Kate x reader

Genre: little bit of angst; fluff

“Something smells good. Hey, sweetheart, how was school?” Natasha dropped her bag by the kitchen doorway and gave you a one-armed hug, depositing her takeaway coffee mug and lunchbox in the sink.

“Hey mom, school was good.” You added a box of pasta to the boiling water on the stove and continued to stir the sauce you’d made. “Mrs Kenton thinks I should minor in business, she said I’d manage with it.” You looked at your mom. “I’m just not sure what I should do, y’know?”

“Well, you talked about it a lot. And you told Steve that you were majoring in psychology with a minor in business. I thought your mind was made up on that front?” She pushed some hair out of your face and kissed the top of your head. “What’s holding you back?”

“Tell you over dinner?”

“Hmm.” She gave you a look then nodded and began setting the table.

“Alright, hit me with it,” Natasha said, sitting down as you ladled pasta and sauce onto her plate. “Mmm, this looks good.”

“I should hope so, I spent ages slaving over the stove,” you laughed. “It’s that vodka tomato pasta sauce thing that’s been all over my feed lately.”

“As long as you didn’t use my nice vodka,” your mom warned.

“No, of course not.” You sat down and began to eat, then looked up to find her watching you. “What?” She raised an eyebrow and you sighed. “Um, ok, we can talk about it. I just don’t want to move away for college. I want to stay in the city or one of the neighbouring states.”

“I’m assuming there’s a reason you don’t want to leave New York,” your mom prompted.

“There's someone,” you reluctantly admitted. “Someone who means more to me, the more time I spend with them. I don’t want a long-distance relationship.”

“A relationship, huh?” Natasha was thoughtful. The last time you’d been in a relationship was over two years ago. “What’s his name?” You hesitated, biting at your lip. Slowly, you looked up to meet your mom’s gaze. Her expression shifted. “What’s her name?”

“Kate.” You reached out, taking your mom’s hand in yours. “Are you ok with this? With me being gay, I mean?”

“Honey, of course I’m ok with it!” she exclaimed, getting up and rushing around the table to pull you into a hug. “I’m honoured that you shared it with me, that you felt you could come out to me. Of course I’m ok with it.”

“Thanks mom,” you whispered, hugging her tightly.

“So,” Natasha said, sitting back down in her seat and spearing a forkful of pasta, “how long have you two been…?” Your mom’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Do we need to have the talk?”

“Mom, we already had the talk when I was dating that guy!” you laughed. “Ew, no, we don’t need to have the talk.”

“So when can I meet her? And you didn’t answer my question,” she said, playfully wagging a finger at you. She scooped the pasta into her mouth.

You rolled your eyes. “We’ve been together for just over a month. And no, you can’t meet her yet. I want you to meet her, just not that soon.”

“Hmmm, ok.”

***

A few weeks later

“You didn’t tell her I was an Avenger?” Kate said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Surely that would have been a good idea.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I just - I wanted to tell her about me and not so much about the relationship, but being my mom, she wanted to know all about that too.” You lent your head on her shoulder, smiling as she wrapped an arm around you.

You and Kate were on a date. She’d taken you out for dinner and then the two of you had found an empty rooftop where you could look out across New York.

“We’re coming to the compound next week,” you murmured.

Kate sat up and looked at you. “You are? Finally!”

“Me and my mom. If you give me heart eyes, she’ll know.”

“Why’s it so bad if she knows? She already knows my name. She’s probably worked out that it’s me anyway. It won’t take her long to put the information you gave her through one of her databases.”

“My mom wouldn’t track you,” you scoffed, then sighed as Kate looked at you. “Nope, that’s exactly what she’d do. She did it with my exes, even before I told her.”

“Great, I’m on her hit list now,” Kate sighed and you frowned reproachfully at her. “Ok, ok, that wasn’t fair of me.” She leant in and gave you a soft kiss, making you smile. “Are you going to tell her? Y’know, before you come to the compound.”

“Maybe,” you teased. “If it’ll keep you on your best behaviour, then yes.”

“I’m always behaving!” she protested, making you laugh and pull her in for another kiss.

***

“You’re very quiet.” Natasha looked over at you. “What are you reading?”

“Just a book.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s for school. Something Mrs Kenton wants us to read for psychology.” You flipped the page of your textbook, but your mind wasn’t on your studies. You were thinking about Kate being at the compound and how the first meeting between her and your mom was going to go.

“What’s on your mind?” Natasha said softly. “I can tell you’re not reading, nobody turns the pages that fast.”

She’d caught you. You sighed and shut the book. “My girlfriend’s going to be at the compound. I know you’ve already tracked her down, read through her file or whatever SHIELD’s got on her.”

“Oh. No, sweetheart, I hadn’t looked -” Your mom paused. “Wait. You said her name was Kate. Are you dating Kate Bishop?”

Crap. Now you were well and truly stuffed. You bit your lip and blushed, looking down at your lap, your fingers twisting through each other. “Yes,” you said quietly.

“Someone’s blushing,” your mom teased. She pulled over abruptly and reached out, turning your face to hers. “Honey, I’m not mad. I hadn’t looked her up in a database. I wanted you to tell me in your own time. Besides, I heard Yelena teasing Kate about her new girlfriend and from what you’d told me… I just put two and two together but I didn’t look into it. I wanted you to come to me.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m not.” She pulled you into a hug. “I’m happy for you. And I’m really proud of you for telling me. I wanted it to be your choice.”

You smiled. “Ok, can we head to the compound now?”

“Eager to see a special someone?”

“Mom!”

***

You’d messaged Kate and updated her so as Natasha pulled into the parking garage, Kate was waiting nervously by the elevators. You ran over and pulled her into a hug, leaning your forehead against hers.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“She’s ok with it?” Kate said, looking over your shoulder to where Natasha was watching the two of you.

“Yes!” you said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Ok, lovebirds, come and help me with the bags,” Natasha called.

“Hi,” Kate said, sticking her hand out once she reached Natasha. “I’m Kate.”

“Kate, there’s no need for that. I’ve trained with you for over a year. Come here,” and you smiled, watching your mom pull your girlfriend into a hug.

Later that evening

“Thanks for dinner, Auntie Wanda,” you said to Wanda. The witch had cooked one of her native Sokovian dishes for team dinner. It had been an evening of laughter and settling in. Natasha needed to be at the compound for a week. You were fine with the sudden holiday, but she’d reminded you to stay up to date on your studies. Kate sat next to you at dinner, Yelena on your other side, and the three of you caught up. Occasionally, you noticed your mom glancing at the three of you and smiling. You also noticed her looking at Wanda, but her expression was one you couldn’t read.

“You’re welcome, little krolik [bunny],” she said, slipping the term of endearment in. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“See you tomorrow,” you said, slipping out of the kitchen. You noticed your mom standing in the doorway, apparently hesitant. “Mom. Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I just need to brief Wanda on something. I’ll come and find you in a bit.”

“Oh actually, I was going to ask if I can stay in Kate’s room?” You blurted out, amazed at your sudden confidence.

Your mom thought for a moment then nodded, taking you by surprise. “Yes, I suppose that’s ok. No funny business, though.”

“Mom!” She laughed as you ran down the hall towards the bedrooms. She didn’t see you look back, watching as she squared her shoulders and headed into the kitchen. Something was going on and it made you worried.

***

“Hey, you’re very quiet. And you don’t want to cuddle. What’s wrong?” Kate was sitting up in her bed, leaning against the headboard, watching you with a concerned expression.

“I’m fine,” you replied, leaning your head against the cool glass of her window. You were sitting on her windowsill, staring into nothingness, Kate’s room reflected in the glass.

“You’re not fine.” She got out of bed and came over, wrapping her arms around you and leaning her head on your shoulder. “You’re tense. What’s wrong, angel?” She gently massaged your shoulders, pulling the tension out of you.

“Something’s up with my mom,” you sighed. “She always tells me what’s going on but she was acting weird at dinner and then I don’t know, there was a moment in the kitchen just now. She’s worried about something and it’s making me worried because I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Can you talk to her?”

“I tried but she brushed it off. Oh, and I asked if I could stay in your room tonight and she just said yes, no hesitation. Normally, I’d have to push to get her permission on something like this, but she just… let me.” You sighed. “Am I reading too much into this?”

“Yes, my love, I think you might be. It’s ok though, I’ve got training scheduled with her tomorrow morning. I can normally gauge how it’s going to go, so I’ll know if something’s off and I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning against Kate.

The two of you got into bed. You snuggled up against your girlfriend, but your mind was racing. Your mom’s behaviour was out of character and it unsettled you. She’d adopted you when you were twelve, it had been hard for her to gain your trust. Then you started at a new school and got bullied, coming home with bruises and tear tracks on your cheeks. Natasha had quickly realised something was wrong and pushed for you to change to a new school, which you loved being at. Since that event, the two of you shared a very close bond and told each other everything.

You knew she kept details of her work under wraps, not wanting you to hear about the missions she’d been on, or even that she couldn’t share some of the details if they were classified. But this wasn’t to do with work. She wanted to brief Wanda on something, but you instinctively knew that it wasn’t about work. Something had happened between your mom and Wanda, you were sure of it. You just didn’t know what.

Kate fell asleep and you rolled over, grabbing your phone. Unlocking it, you saw a message from Natasha.

Everything ok? Sleep well xx

You hesitated, then typed a response, your fingers flying over the keyboard:

Everything’s ok here. Kate’s asleep, but I’m not. Can we talk, now please xx

Of course. Meet you in the corridor in 5

***

Kate had barely stirred as you slipped out of bed, threw on one of her hoodies which was lying on the floor and left her room, shoving your feet into your sneakers. Natasha was just emerging from her room down the hall, she smiled when she saw you, then pointed to the elevator.

There was only the quiet hum of the lift as the two of you headed for the rooftop. You hadn’t been up here that often but you knew Natasha liked it. You leant against her and she put an arm around you, kissing the top of your head.

“Wow, it’s changed up here,” you said, looking around. Three picnic tables were joined together and someone had started a garden. There were long, low planters against the far side of the rooftop. You could just about make out the small green shrubs in them.

“Yes. I can’t remember when we last came up here,” Natasha mused, heading for one of the picnic tables. You followed her and sat down opposite her, reaching out and putting your hands in hers. She looked at you but you spoke before she could.

“Mom, what’s going on with you? Please don’t tell me you’re fine, I know that something’s wrong. You seem really sad.” Your mom looked away from you sharply, taking in a deep breath before sighing and turning to look at you again. You noticed her eyes were filled with unshed tears and you jumped up, going and sitting next to her and leaning into her. “Mom?”

“Oh, sweetheart…” She began, but her voice was thick. “I should have told you about this ages ago, but it’s not news that I want everyone to know.” She glanced at you and you nodded, knowing that you were to keep it from Kate. “I didn’t know how to tell you at the time… I was trying to protect you.”

“Mom, you’re scaring me,” you said, fear creeping into your voice. “Are you sick? What’s going on?”

“No, no, darling, I’m not sick. I just… I went through something with someone. But it didn’t last.”

“You had a relationship?” You hesitated, then asked the question in your mind anyway. “Was it with Auntie Wanda?”

She looked at you then let out a watery chuckle. “Nothing escapes you, does it?”

“Is that a yes?”

She nodded, then wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yes, it was. It was brief and we kept it very private, but it didn’t last. There was too much pressure, from others, from the outside world, from ourselves.”

“Is this your first time seeing her since it ended?” You took your mom’s hand in yours, snuggling up to her to stay warm. She unlaced your fingers and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into her side. “And so you’re sad because it’s hard to be around her?”

“You are way too perceptive for your own good,” she chuckled, making you smile. “No, it ended quite some time ago. Years, in fact. It’s just… she was seeing someone. Which prevented me from saying anything. But that’s not a thing anymore either apparently.”

“I think you should tell her how you feel,” you said, eyes lighting up. “I can help! I’ll cook dinner, make it all nice and cosy.”

“That’s very sweet of you to offer, but nothing’s going to happen.”

“But you’re sad,” you said, staring at Natasha with pleading eyes. “And I don’t like seeing my mom sad, especially if there’s a way to fix it.”

“Honey… I don’t think she wants to fix it,” Natasha said quietly, taking your hands into hers. “I talked to her earlier this evening, but she didn’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s not what I said,” a voice spoke out of the darkness, making you both jump. Natasha pushed you behind her and took a defensive stance, before relaxing as Wanda walked out of the shadows.

***

You sat between the two women, looking from one to the other like you were watching tennis, as they spoke.

“You twisted my words,” Wanda said, a sad smile on her face. “I never said that I didn’t want to talk about it. I just said, not right now.”

“But what does that mean?” Natasha never took her eyes from Wanda’s face. “Does that mean you want to talk in a few days, a few weeks, a few months?”

“Ah, truth be told, I was holding off for your sake, little krolik,” Wanda said, turning her gaze to you. “I knew your mom hadn’t told you, otherwise you’d be looking at me like you are right now. And I didn’t want to jeopardise anything.”

“You wouldn’t have!” you said, pausing as Natasha placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you head to bed now?” Your mom turned to you. “It’s getting late and I think Wanda and I have some catching up to do.”

“Don’t make any rash decisions,” you whispered, leaning in and giving your mom a hug. “But don’t say no if your heart’s saying yes.”

“Alright, mom,” she laughed, tussling your hair affectionately. “Off with you now.”

You leant in and gave Wanda a hug, whispering, “She wants to say yes, and I know you do too.”

Wanda’s eyes were sparkling with amusement when you pulled away and walked to the elevator. The last thing you saw before the doors shut was your mom and Wanda, hands in each other’s, talking intently.

***

“Morning sleepyhead,” Kate said, leaning over you with a big smile on her face. “Someone slept in late.”

“Uhh, what time is it?” you groaned, rubbing your eyes and stretching.

“7.30. That’s late for you!”

“How would you know?” You sat up and took the glass of orange juice she was holding out. “Have you been watching me sleep?”

“No, dummy, I’ve been at training. Besides, when we first started talking, you texted promptly at 7am every morning.”

“I had school!” You couldn’t help but take in your girlfriend’s training kit. She had a mustard yellow hoodie on, which you recognised as yours, and a pair of black leggings. “How was training?”

“It was good. And before you ask, I saw your mom. She’s ok, she seemed to be in good spirits. Oh, and she said that she wants to talk to you when you’ve got a moment.”

“Did she say where?”

“Just in the kitchen at breakfast. Although she’s eaten now, I think she means your breakfast.” Kate shrugged. “I didn’t really ask her about the particulars. I’m still getting used to the whole ‘your mom knows about us’ thing, and I was trying not to be awkward around her, but I think I kind of messed it up. So, we were on the mat, and she was trying to teach me a new move from one of her martial arts things and I may have called her ‘mom.’ Anyway it got a bit awkward and I was just staring at her, trying to think of how to apologise and…”

You cut Kate off mid-ramble, pulling her on top of you and kissing her, wrapping your arms around her. “I can talk to my mom later. If it’s urgent, she’ll come and find me. For now, I just want to stay here, like this. If that’s ok with you.”

Kate smiled and kissed you again, murmuring a ‘yes’ against your lips.

***

“Someone’s a late riser,” Natasha commented, when you finally swung by the conference room where she was hanging out. She pushed some photos and documents into a folder and closed it.

“It’s a Saturday,” you grumbled, sinking into the seat next to her. “I’m allowed a lie-in.”

“Ok, teenager,” she said, grinning at you. “Just make sure you get some of that psychology paper done today, please.”

“Yes, mom,” you sighed. “Anyway, you wanted to talk to me?”

She got up and shut the door. “Yes, I did. Wanda and I talked some more last night, but also this morning. We want to give it another go, but only if you’re cool with it.”

“I’m cool with it,” you gasped happily, leaping up and flinging your arms around your mom. “I’m so totally 100% cool with it!”

“My daughter’s malfunctioning,” she teased, but there was a smile on her face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to say yes if you don’t feel that way.”

“Mom, I’m saying yes in a big way. Don’t ruin the moment,” and you pulled her into another hug.

There was a knock at the door. You both looked over to see Wanda standing outside. Your mom glanced at you and you nodded, smiling. She opened the door and spoke briefly to Wanda, giving her a kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the corridor. Wanda shut the door and turned to you. You realised that she was nervous.

“Do I get to call you mom now too?” you blurted, making the witch smile. “Ohmygod, that was not what I meant to say. I am so sorry.”

Wanda pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms tightly around you. You returned the hug gladly. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Thank you for talking some sense into her,” you chuckled. “Although I guess that was partly me as well.” You took a step back, taking Wanda in. “I guess the whole ‘if you break her heart, I will find you’ speech goes without saying?” She smiled and nodded. “Good. I just, she’s my mom, you know. I hurt when she’s hurting. So please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not planning too, y/n. I want to do my best to make both of you happy.”

“We can double date now!” You exclaimed, suddenly realising that you and Kate could go on dates with your mom and Wanda. “Ohmygod, this is going to be so cool!”

Wanda watched you with an amused smile on her face. She’d been introduced to you a few months after Natasha had officially adopted you and she’d watched the struggles your mom had gone through to connect with you. You’d clicked immediately with Wanda which had frustrated and upset Natasha, but once you and your mom got close, the two of you were inseparable.

***

A few months later

“Mom, you’d better be ready. They’ll be here any moment!” You shouted up the stairs, hopping around on one foot while you tried to pull your sneakers on.

“I’m coming, Miss Impatient!” Natasha called back, making you chuckle.

“Not impatient, only overexcited,” you admitted. “Wow, mom, you look gorgeous.” You grinned. “Wanda won’t be able to keep her eyes off you.”

“Ok, that’s enough of that,” she said, poking you in the arm and making you laugh. “No, y/n, please. You cannot wear sneakers to one of Tony’s galas.”

“But I like my sneakers.”

“No. Change your shoes.” Natasha raised an eyebrow when you glared at her. “And drop the attitude.”

“Yes mom,” you sighed, kicking your sneakers off and picking up the smart shoes your mom had bought you. “Doesn’t mean I’m dropping the attitude,” you said cheekily, dodging another poke from Natasha, who was looking at you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“How on earth does Kate put up with you, hm?”

“Hey!” You protested, standing up, shoving your hands in your trouser pockets. “We get along just fine. She loves me anyway, she wouldn’t dare to tell me off.” You leant your head on your mom’s shoulder. “That’s your job.”

“Don’t I know it,” Natasha sighed, making you laugh.

There was a knock at the door and you raced to open it, squealing as you took in the sight of Kate in a short purple dress. Her hair was undone and fell in gentle waves over her shoulders. “You look delicious,” you whispered, leaning in and kissing her.

“Your mom’s right there,” she said, poking you and stepping inside.

“What is it with everyone poking me?!” You complained. Your eyes widened as you noticed Wanda in a deep red dress, her hair done in an elegant crown braid. “Hey, someone brushes up well,” you grinned.

“Hello to you too,” she said, pinching your cheek and heading to greet your mom.

***

Later that evening, as you danced around at Tony’s gala with Kate, who’d grabbed your hands and tugged you onto the dancefloor, you couldn’t have been happier. Your mom and Wanda were sitting next to each other at the bar, chatting and laughing to Steve, who was attempting to make cocktails. Natasha reached over and guided his hands, pointing out a bottle behind the bar, making him groan and Wanda laugh.

It had taken a few weeks, but your mom and Wanda were extremely happy together and you’d started calling Wanda ‘mom’ which made her face light up and Natasha look at you fondly. Kate came over regularly, spending evenings in your room while you studied and prepared for college. You’d decided to major in psychology with a minor in business and you were excited to start classes in the autumn.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” Kate said, pulling you in close as a slow song started playing.

“Just my family,” you said, looking over at Wanda and Natasha, “and my beautiful girlfriend,” you added, looking into Kate’s eyes and making her blush.

She kissed you softly, holding you close. “Hey, y/n. I love you.”

Your face lit up with a smile. It was the first time she’d said those words to you. “I love you too, Katie.”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Can I get platonic hcs between JJ and Popes younger (13-14) sister? Seeing JJ and Pope’s relationship and the way Hayward hugged JJ, it’s obvious his family cares for JJ. So maybe Pope’s younger sister thinks of JJ as an older brother too and spends her time hanging around the pogues be with JJ and Pope

omg I love this actually stop

platonic jj x heyward!readera hcs

♡︎ He was often over at your house, sometimes it led to him babysitting you with pope home alone quite a few times.

♡︎ he calls you all sorts of nicknames. “Squirt, shorty, lil heyward.” The list goes on.

♡︎ super duper protective of you! He once heard about some kids making fun of you and pope literally had to hold him back from beating up some kids.

♡︎ pope gets slightly offended when you have a problem and go to jj instead of him.

♡︎ and one day you come up to him and tell him he was like an older brother to you he almost teared up, but just smiled and wrapped his arms around you, ruffling your hair with his fist.

♡︎ He really loves to give you noogies out of the blue.

♡︎ There’s times where the pogues are gone for long periods of time and you’re like “where’s pope and jj?” ): and you’ll literally spam both their phones until one of them answers you

♡︎ it’s usually pope answering first nd then your like “is jj with you?” and he just sends you sum like this.

♡︎ you both make fun of pope behind his back. Jj and you flip him off and stick out your tongues when he turns around, while Jj cackles like a witch.

“I can hear you!” He’ll say, huffing and glancing over his shoulder, seeing both of you giggle and sip your water like kids, acting innocent.

“Whatttttttt? We didn’t say anything.”

♡︎ sometimes pope is convinced you like jj more than him

♡︎ you guys are basically Dustin and Steve in stranger things.

♡︎ Pope gets a lil concerned on the influence he has on you when you start using his lingo.

“I mean, dude, it’s like-“

“Who are you calling dude?” You never call him dude!

♡︎ You also have this handshake you do every time you see each other.

♡︎ basically your his lil best friend fr !!

[bettyfrommars]

Ring of Fire

a biker!Steve au

Part 3: The Runaway

Masterlist

18+Only, adult themes, mention of an abusive relationship, mention of cheating (not on reader), mention of violence, alcohol consumption, yearning, reader uses she/they pronouns, it's the late 90's, but also time doesn't really exist in Hawkeye. Platonic Stobin Forever, biker!Hopper, and biker!Eddie. Reader has very specific skills and backstory that verges on OC.

Word Count: 5.4k Playlist

A/N: I was going to call this a very self-indulgent chapter, but they all are, lmao. This is my love letter to biker Steve and my yearning to go to one of Hopper's barbecues with the rest of the gang. There will be a future wlw relationship for Robin with a woman worthy of her love, and we'll see more of Wayne in the next part. Trying to decide if I should give biker Eddie someone too, but for now, we have this. I love those of you who have decided to join me in this world, truly. Also, the playlist is a work in progress, and if you stumble upon a song that makes you think of biker Steve, or this story in general, please let me know!

-----

Groaning as he rolled over in bed to face the green numbers on his digital alarm clock, Steve felt a strange satisfaction at the fact that he hadn't tossed and turned all night.  Thumbing sleep from his eyes, he felt around the nightstand, and cursed under his breath to note that it was barely daybreak, and he was out of smokes. He knew the gas station would be open, and then immediately wondered if you would be there.

He tried to blink the thought away, desperate not to make thinking about you first thing in the morning a habit.  Habits like that were hard for him to break once things inevitably went to shit.

On his back, he stared at the ceiling, recalling bits of a dream that were still floating behind his eyes.  The images of the family he kept having were so vivid, he expected to roll over and hold the woman next to him and call her his wife, but that side of the bed had not been warm in years. He’d never had the urge to marry, and he certainly didn’t have any children.  But when he slept? It was as if he lived a double life. Tears built on his lash line at the memory of one of the young girls holding his leg and calling him daddy, it made him shoot up into a sitting position with a jolt.  

“Shake it off, Harrington,” he mumbled to himself.  

Hissing at a sudden sharp pain in his knee, he made his way to the kitchen in his polka dot boxers, scratching his head with a yawn.  Robin had been staying with him for a few months after her breakup, and it was the happiest he’d been in a while. There used to be dishes piled up in the sink, but now there was nothing but a single Chinese takeout container on the kitchen table and a pot on the stove with Velveeta cheese caked to the insides.  

He’d thought about getting a smaller place or another roommate, but the rent Eddie was charging him was dirt cheap, and he’d surprised himself with how much he liked taking care of the yard and the domesticity of it all.  He only wished he had someone to share it with.

The first thing he did was turn on the tiny 6-inch, countertop television near the toaster so that there could be some noise; the early morning silence was deafening, it made him uneasy.  The only thing showing on all four channels was the news, announcing more rain over the weekend.  One newscaster was talking about a rash of women disappearing around Hawkeye, but the murmuring was low, and he was busy searching around for the sustenance he needed to start his day.   

He used the French press that was already there when he moved in to make coffee, and when he opened the fridge to get the milk, there was your dish of lasagna.  Clear blue Pyrex dish staring him in the face, just one more reminder. 

It made him feel warm for a second, as if you were also in the house somewhere.  Like maybe you’d come around the corner and slip your arms around him from behind.  

He pulled back the tin foil cover to be reminded that there was only a slice left in the corner since he’d been eating it for practically every meal the past three days.  

He hadn’t set eyes on you in just as long, since the protection run with the Kings got pushed back a day and he had to cancel on his plans to pick you up and go for a ride.  

It was all for the best, really.  He wondered if it was too soon to show you what he had in mind.

But he promised he’d return the dish to you, and he needed cigarettes.

Was there a way to ask for your schedule without sounding like a stalker?

Eh, probably not.

The wall phone rang and he scratched his balls through his boxers on his way over to answer it.  He’d shaved down there just to see what it would look like, but the new growth itched like a motherfucker.  Even though it did make his dick look bigger, he’d decided to never get a sharp object so close to his sack ever again.  Unless, maybe, you were into that sort of thing.  

“Yeah? This ‘s Steve.”

It was Robin letting him know that she’d broken up with her live-in girlfriend yet again, and needed him to come and pick her up.

“You never should’ve gone and done that again, I told you,” he ran a rough hand down his face.

“I don’t need that from you right now,” she sniffed, speaking in a strained whisper.  Her voice was raspy, and she hiccupped to hold back a sob.  

This was the second time she’d tried to make things work with the newest one, Nicole or Nikelle or some shit.  They’d decided to move in together a week after they met, and the last few months had been emotional turmoil.  She hated her, she loved her, and then she hated her again.

Steve hoped that this time it stuck so that he could have his roommate back.  He got busy doing the dishes and cleaning up, whistling while he worked. 

“I’ll pull your sheets out of the closet,” he told her. “Be there to pick you up in twenty minutes.”

—---

“Your precious Steve is here,” Nic spat, pushing the curtain back to eye the truck pulling up to the curb.  “I suppose you told him this was all my fault?”

“I haven’t told him anything,” Robin sighed, frowning into her bag, shoving her last few belongings in.  “But I’m not the one who cheated again, am I?”

She swallowed, aching to explode, but not wanting to give her newly appointed ex the satisfaction of another tear or argument.

“Hey,” Nic took hold of her elbow, pinning her with an earnest look.  Her complexion was olive, her thick black hair buzzed short, and the bright green of her irises had a long track record of melting Robin into submission.  “You can’t hold that against me, you know I can’t help it.”

Robin scoffed, jerking out of her grasp .  “You know, I can’t believe I fell for that a second time.”

Steve was halfway up the sidewalk when Robin shuffled out of the door wearing a backpack, and carrying too big duffle bags that had clothes spilling out of the open zippers.  

“Get me out of here, “ she groaned, letting him take one of the bags from her to help.  

He caught Nic’s stare through the kitchen window and she flipped him off.  He mirrored the gesture with a wide, fake grin, hoping he’d never have to see her face again.  

Robin slid the blue Pyrex dish over while she scooted in to throw her stuff behind the seat in the extended cab.

“What’s this?” 

Steve got behind the wheel and gave a curious grunt as if he wasn’t sure.  “That’s, um, you remember when she brought the lasagna.”

Robin’s tired, puffy eyes lit up for a second.  “Interesting. You finally going to ask her out when you give it back?”

“Was thinking about it,” he put it in gear and peeled away, tires spitting gravel and dust.  He pushed the sleeves of his flannel up.  “There’s that party at Hopper’s place tonight.”

Robin sat ridgid, but her shoulders started to relax the further they got down the road. She rolled her eyes. “You’re going to invite her to a biker party as a first date? I’m sure you could do better.  What about that Italian place?”

He agreed with the sentiment, but to be completely honest, he was nervous as shit to be alone with you.  He didn’t get that way with everyone, but his heart fell out his ass with nerves every time he imagined what he’d say when he had you all to himself.  

“I guess it’s not a bad idea,” she shrugged.  “Casual, no pressure.  Better than getting stuck on an awkward, uptight dinner date.”

“I really want to take her to the old Danvers place.”

Robin twisted in her seat to stare at his profile.  “You sure she could handle that?”

“Dunno,” he got on the ramp to the freeway, rolling down his window as he went.  “But I think she’s got secrets too.”

—-----

You stood behind the worn, yellowed countertop at work that morning selling smokes and gatorade and snacks for weary workers and travelers.  A woman brought a batch of fresh sandwiches wrapped in cellophane and chocolate chip cookies every day, and they always sold out fast, so you set a turkey on wheat aside for later.  

Earlier, you’d stood at the sink in your apartment with a razor in your hand, considering shaving all of the hair off of your head.  Once the moment passed, you just stared at the blade for a long while, turning it over in your hand, wondering about its other uses.

A group of teenagers on their high school lunch break came through buying chips and beef jerky and soda to the tune of The Plimsouls singing A Million Miles Away, and while you were busy counting the loose change they paid with, you didn’t look up when the bell over the door chimed.  

You were just closing the register after the last kid when your pyrex slid into view.

He thought about leaving it further down on the counter with a note for you to find later, but then he told himself to not act like a fourteen year old.  Would you like to go on a date with me? Please check yes or no.

He had his wayfarer sunglasses on, showcasing the simplicity of a white Hanes tee, fresh pack of cigarettes rolled up in his sleeve like an old-time greaser, and worn jeans with a hole in one knee. The rolled up sleeve revealed more of the tattoo on his bicep; it looked like traditional Sailor Jerry ink, but you couldn’t tell what.  He worked a piece of pink gum in his mouth, grinding it in his front teeth, but he didn’t say anything, he just moved the dish closer.

“Is this a robbery?” You adjusted your shirt, wondering if you looked okay.  

He cocked an eyebrow high and held it there.  “That’s right, put all the money in the dish and no one will get hurt.”

You gave a soft snort, tucking your chin to stifle a grin.

Pushing his sunglasses up into his hair to show that he had a clear sunburn line on his cheeks, he checked around the room as if it were illegal for the two of you to be talking.  Scratching his chest with the LOVE hand you noticed the motor oil stained in the creases of his knuckles.

“So, um, if you’re free tonight and you get bored or something, there’s a party, at a place out near the lake,” he paused, trying to gauge the blank expression on your face.  “I know the guy, he’s a friend of mine. Hopper, from the other night at the Blue Light.  There will be plenty of booze, he’s got a pool.  Burgers and shit.  Just a few friends but I dunno, it might be fun.”

He closed his eyes for a beat, worried he was talking way too fast.  He cupped his hands on the edge of the counter, exposing the muscles and veins on the underside of his forearms.  “Unless you have plans or something.  Thought I’d invite you cause you’re new in town and all, but if you’re busy, I get it.”

“I’m not busy,” you were quick to respond the second he gave you the chance. After he had to cancel the last time he wanted to take you somewhere, you wondered if he would ever try again.  A grandfatherly gentleman came through the door and you greeted him while he shuffled over to the coffee station.

 “Are you going?”

He made a fist and pounded the side of it lightly on the counter a few times.  “Yeah, I was thinking about stopping by to check it out.  If you want, you know, I could pick you up or something.”

Steve moved aside so that you could take the money for the older customer’s big styrofoam cup of cream and sugar coffee.

You put the quarters in the cash register with a metal clatter as you spoke.  “I think I might take my own car,” your eyes flicked to him and then down again.  “You know, just in case I hate it.”

“No, that's smart. I’lll take my own vehicle too, and then we can, you know, meet there.”

He heard how stupid the words were when they left his mouth, but it was too late.  He took the pack of reds out of his sleeve and squashed it open to pluck out a smoke to put between his lips.  

He didn’t light it, but he kept it pinned there, bobbing as he spoke. “You got a piece of paper?”

He took a pen from the collection at his elbow, and you ripped off a piece of cash register tape so that he could jot down the address to the place.

“It’s real easy.  Once you get to the end of the road, go left, and it will be about a mile down on your right.  Red mailbox, the house is tucked in the trees.” He straightened to look at what he’d written, and then bent down again to keep the pen going.  “This is my number just in case.”

The side of your mouth jerked up in a smile while you watched his profile.  “What time should I be there?”

He rolled the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other and capped the pen.  “Whenever. Around 6 or 7 if you wanna eat, but I’m sure the party will go on until late.”

“You can bring a friend if you want,” he added, praying you didn’t show up with another dude.

“I don’t have any friends,” you kept your eyes on the paper as you pulled it toward you, chuckling softly.

“That’s not true,” he turned away as he said it.  “You’ve got me.”

—-------

You thought you were lost at one point, winding through the old highway through the cornfields, but the second you found the fork in the road, you knew exactly where you were.  You hated that you’d spent almost two hours throwing clothes around your apartment trying to decide what to wear.

“He’s just some dude,” you mumbled to yourself, fixing your hair in the mirror.  “It’s nothing to get all nervous about.”

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “It’s just a lame barbecue, nothing to get worked up about.  He’s a friend from school, that’s all.”

But, was that all?  

You had a blue and green stained glass bird hanging in one of the small windows, right above a trio of succulents in various planters, and you made sure to sprinkle a rare dose of water on them before you left. 

You got all the way down to your car, realized you hated the shoes you had on, and went back up to change them.  Donna eventually came out to ask you where you were going, not that it was any of her business.

“To a friend's house,” is what  you appeased her with, feeling that it would be wrong to ignore your boss, even if she had no right to ask..  

Hopper’s place was a brown and tan double wide surrounded with trees with an above ground pool out back, through the carport.  The grill was back there too, and a bunch of friends downing beers in camp chairs.  He’d gone over to the motel to invite Lorelei, but she was leaving on an out of town date with a regular that night, and a part of him wished he’d never known that.  Now, he’d have to drink away how worried he’d be for her to make it home safe.  

Or maybe he’d stay relatively sober, just in case she called.

He turned from the grill to catch his reflection in the living room window, rubbing a hand over the short beard there under the smoldering cigarette between his lips.  He muttered out loud to himself that he needed to get a fucking haircut soon since it was long enough to tuck behind his ears.  

“Sorry man,” Steve brushed by on his way around the house again.

“Hey Taz,” Hopper called after him, making Steve spin around, the heel of his Converse digging into the grass.  “Why the hell are you so fidgety tonight? Have another beer, sit the fuck down.  I’m gonna shove this burger down your throat in a minute.”

Steve raked a hand through his hair a few times, exhaling a ragged breath.  This was only his third or fourth time going around front to see if he could get a view of your car coming down the road, but for some reason, Hopper was keeping track.  

Steve wondered if it was wrong that he wanted to hug you when you showed up.   

He moved his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing there.  “I told you I got that friend that might be coming. Wanted to make sure she didn’t miss the turn.”

Hopper brought his attention back to the food, letting the ash from his smoke dust the front of his Magnum P.I. tropical shirt as he spoke. “What if she doesn’t show, what then?”

“Won’t matter to me,” Steve shrugged, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. “I need to get the other cooler out of my truck anyway.”  

He kept on his way before Hopper could say another word.  

An hour, a burger, some potato salad, and several beers later, there was still no sign of you.  A few people bobbed around in the pool as dusk bloomed on the horizon, while the rest settled in a circle around the campfire to the tune of Wild One by Thin Lizzy.

He was staring at the fire, thinking about getting up for a third beer, when he heard the distinct crunch of  tires rolling up to the gravel of the driveway from the main road.

—----

You turned down the radio, taking a few calming breaths.

He’s just a stupid boy…you reminded yourself, pulling in near the red mailbox to park behind two Harley Davidson Fatboys.  Steve’s truck was parked further up the road, away from the house, to give others more room to park, you assumed.  Hopper drove a Bronco, as well as his Harley Softail, and there were two other vehicles you didn’t recognize. 

Several tiki torches lined the way to the back of the home while the sunset blazed tangerine.  You hadn’t even turned the engine off yet when you saw Steve appear at a slow jog, waving as if to assure you that you were at the right place.  

Your heart tripped over itself at the sight of him, and you gave a quick glance to the rearview mirror to check your face. He waited for you to open the door and step one foot out before he asked if you needed a hand.  

“I brought beer,” there was a 12 pack Schlitz on the front seat from the mini mart.  A last minute choice since you’d forgotten to ask if you needed to bring anything. Steve stood holding the door open while you stretched over to grab it.  He saw the way your shirt creeped up to show some skin on your hip, but then she quickly averted his eyes.

“Wasn’t sure you were gonna make it,” he took the case of beer from you as you stood.  “Saved you some food if you’re hungry.”

Shouts and splashes echoed from the pool after it sounded like someone did a belly flop.  Steve had on a nice, button down, grass green shirt with what looked like newer blue jeans.  Had he just bought them that day? You liked the way the shirt was unbuttoned a few so that his messy patch of chest hair was on full display.  That was the most “dressed up” you’d ever seen him.  

“Think you might want to go for a swim?” He carried the case under his arm like it didn’t weigh a thing.

The question flustered you.  “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

He smelled really good, not like strong cologne or anything but just clean and spicy and…soft.  Like maybe you could bite into his flesh and honey would come out. 

Most of the 12 or 14 other people at the party there were too tipsy and too busy deep in their own conversation to really care or notice when the two of you came around the corner.  Hopper looked up from his chair across the fire, exhaling smoke from his cigar.  It was a big, circular fire pit made of stone, and you had the feeling he made it himself.  

There was an empty seat you assumed was Steve’s, and next to it was a younger kid with thick sideburns and a PROSPECT insignia on the back of his Coffin King’s leather.  

Still holding the beer, Steve kicked the aluminum legs of the young man’s chair. “Get up.”

The guy snapped his head to see who it was and was quick to stand.  You had your mouth open to protest taking someone else’s seat, but the guy was already off to find another one.

“I’m gonna go put these in the fridge,” Steve said.  “You want beer or–?”

“Got any whiskey?” You could feel Hopper’s eyes on you.

“Coming right up,” he replied, squeezing your shoulder. 

The whiskey tamed your nerves, and he handed you his cigarette for a few drags.  He offered you one of your own, but you declined, citing that you didn’t want to get too comfortable with it.  But really, you just liked sharing his; to hold it in your lips right after him, teasing the tip of your tongue across the filter.  He introduced you to the ones around the fire, all members of the Coffin Kings, and a few of them had partners, or “old ladies” as they were affectionately called.  You listened to the conversations buzzing around, and every once in a while, you’d find yourself chuckling at some story Steve told.  What about the time he tried to steal a riding lawnmower from the hardware store, and four employees chased him through the parking lot?

“I was just a kid,” he leaned over to tell you so that you wouldn’t think it was something he did recently.  “Barely sixteen I think. One of the guys dared me, and I never say no to those for some reason.”

“You never say no to a dare?” 

He shook his head. “Nah, I figure if I’m not hurting anyone else, there’s nothing I won’t try once.”

You pondered that, wondering about the things you wouldn’t do if dared.  

You must’ve shivered, or maybe it was just his intuition, but he motioned to his leather jacket on the backseat of the chair. “You cold? Wanna wear this?”

“No I’m fine, thank you,” but then, “maybe later.”

“What about you,” Hopper said over the tips of the flames, looking in your direction.  “You got a story?”

For the first time all night, they all turned to you, expectantly, and your face began to sweat.

Steve’s hand found your knee. “You don’t have to,” he whispered.  

You thought about the stories you had, and wondered if you should tell the truth or make one up.

“Um,” by then, the others had lost interest. Steve and Hopper were the only ones looking at you. “Well, I ran away from home once and joined the circus.”

Sparks popped in the fire, and Hopper tilted his head to squint curiously.

Steve went along with it.  “Were you a dancer? Those women with the tassels on their—”

He was about to say nipples but stopped himself.

“I had a couple different jobs,” you took another sip.  “I sold cotton candy at one of the kiosks, did tarot readings and fortune telling.  The last job I had was as a magician’s assistant.”

“You serious?” Steve was fascinated.  “You mean you’re, like, psychic or something?”

You rubbed your lips together, thumbing the rim of your beverage.  “Not exactly, I’ve never been sure how it works, but I see things sometimes.”

“How old were you?” The woman with the bleached blonde hair next to you asked.  She wore an American flag bikini top with tattered denim Daisy Dukes.  

“Seventeen.”

Steve had his chin pinned to his shoulder, searching your face with deepening interest.  

“That’s badass,” the Prospect that had once been in your chair said, but he was next to Hopper at that point.  He had a full head of wavy hair, feathered off his face with some type of gel.  come to find out, his name was Dino, as in short for Dinosaur.  “I’ve always wanted to join the circus.”

The rest of them gave low chuckles, and one mumbled, “there’s still time.”

“Why did you run away from home?” Steve whispered it, wondering if maybe you might not want to answer that in front of everyone.

Dino went on to expand on what a good circus barker he’d be while you spoke only to Steve.

“I didn’t really have, you know, the best childhood,” you mumbled. 

“Someone hurt you?” Just the thought made him upset.

You took another sip, and then raised your voice so the group could hear. “We had one of those big red and white tents, like in the movies. The Bearded Lady, Becky, she was one of the nicest people you’d ever meet.  The lions were my favorite.  The big one, his name was August, we’d go for walks together. I made friends with a trapeze artist, but one day she was up there doing a routine on the tightrope and she fell and there was a hole in the net.  She went right through.  Her name was Debbie.”

There was a hush, and then an older biker with a gray beard next to the blonde said, “that’s fucked up.”  

“How long were you with the circus?” Dino asked.

“Only a few months,” you cleared your throat.  “And then I was on the road for a while.”

“By yourself?” Steve’s voice was louder than he’d meant for it to be. 

You gave him a soft smile and a shrug.  “I’m always alone.”

What were the odds of two lonely fucks finding each other again the way you two had?  Steve was grateful for Robin and Eddie, they were his only constants.  

Robin had decided to stay home that night, to unpack some things and get her room situated again.  Steve made sure she bolted the door and told her to use his gun if Nic tried to come around.  

“She won’t,” Robin huffed, dumping the contents of her backpack onto the bed.  “That would imply she actually gave a shit about me.  She’ll have some new married woman from the bar in our bed by tonight, I’m sure of it.”

Back at the firepit, you got to your feet and Steve followed.  “Could you tell me where, um, the bathroom is?”

The bathroom wallpaper was blue and white striped with ducks in bow ties on the trim, something you imagined was there before Hopper moved in.  A mirrored medicine cabinet and a shower without a tub that had one of those frosted, glass front doors.  Besides some mustache/beard trimmings near the sink, it was a tidy place, and smelled of cleaning supplies.  You used the fairly new bar of green soap in the clear dish, and peeked around in the cabinet like any nosey person would.  

Steve was lingering in the carpeted hallway to hand you a fresh beer.  “Didn’t want you to get lost on the way back.”

There were photo collages in frames on the walls of what looked like Hopper’s extended family.  In one, he had his arms hooked over the shoulders of Steve and an older man in their Coffin Kings kuttes.  It might've been a decade old; Steve looked like a baby.

“How long have you and Hopper known each other?”

Steve let out a raspberry sound with his lips.  “Who knows, forever.  He’s been around since we were kids.”

He was just about to reach for the sliding door out to the back patio, when someone else pulled it open.  Shirtless in his boxers, with a yellow beach towel wrapped around his waist, stood the person you knew to be Eddie Munson.  Wet hair long over his shoulders with a handful of tattoos scattered over his torso, he was dripping wet, and in the middle of scowling about something you weren’t privy to.

“Hey man,” the two men bumped fists.  His eyes darted back and forth between the two of you.  “My beeper just went off, need to make a call real quick.”

Steve introduced you, praying to whatever god would listen that whatever Eddie had to do that night did not include needing his help.  

You saw the metaphorical lightbulb of recognition brighten above Eddie’s head.  “Oh shit yeah, I remember you.  You punched Danny Rogers right in the jaw once on the playground. Dude went down hard.”

Steve seemed to beam with pride at that, exposing his gold canine, but you shifted nervously.

“I don’t like violence,” you admitted.  “But he deserved it.”

Danny was one of those boys who liked to try and put his hand up girls shirts and make nasty rumors go around that one of them blew him in the supply closet.  They were only kids, and you didn’t even know what “to blow” someone meant at the time.  

Eddie shook his hair out like a dog. “Hey, I’ll catch you two out there in a minute, okay? Good to see you again, killer.”

It was dark enough that you could only see the shapes of the people in the pool, moonlight reflecting off the water, and felt the unmistakable weight of Steve leaning into you as you went through the door.  He slid it closed once you stepped onto the concrete slab, and then you turned, not realizing how close he was, and accidentally bumping chests with him.  

You didn’t move away, but you kept your head down until Steve put a finger under your chin to lift your gaze.  The porch light was out, allowing you an extra veil of privacy from the party, and you snaked a hand up over his ribs.

“Are you gonna run away this time?” He mumbled, staring at your mouth, his lashes fluttering.

He didn't know about your dream but somehow, he did.

“I thought we were going together?”

He wondered if you could feel him shaking. 

“I’m ready,” his mouth came down close enough to exchange oxygen with you.  You shifted closer, pulling him in.

But then he abruptly cleared his throat and turned his head.

“Not like this,” he rumbled, glancing at the rest of the party.  

“Not like what?”  You sought his hand and intertwined your fingers. 

He didn’t want to say out loud what he meant, that he wanted it to be special.  

He was revealing himself to you, these things he’d been taught to hide, the ways he daydreamed about how well he could love you, if only you’d let him.  If he could write for shit, he’d be one of those insufferable assholes scribbling out poetry in your honor.

He wasn’t like this with every woman he dated.

There was a special chemistry, something more spiritual than primal, that had only been activated in him a couple of times.  The last one was a while back and she took all of his trust; he was sure he’d never lean into that feeling ever again.  

Were the two of you dating? Is that what this was? Maybe the connection was all in his head and you were just going along for lack of things to do.

No, that wasn’t true.  He could tell you wanted that kiss.

He should’ve taken the chance…

Shit

But then you held his hand all the way back to the firepit, and that was something.  

----

Thank you for reading, I love you. Biker Steve will be back soon.

[veltana]

Mafia AU prequels - Steve's break-up

✦ Pairing: Stucky/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~1k ✦ Rating: Teen ✦ Warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, mild swearing, lots of fluff and feels, platonic cuddling, mention of peggy carter, sharing a bed. ✦ Summary: Steve is heartbroken and you're worried. ✦ Note: This is a prequel to No one as sweet as you set while they were living together in college, which focuses on their growing relationship and how Bucky and Steve started to develop feelings for Sweets as more than just their best friend. You don't need to read No one as sweet as you to get this but I recommend it. (Also posted on AO3)

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

The door has been closed for five days, or at least not opened while you’ve been awake. You stare at it and chew on your thumbnail, so engrossed in worry that you don't notice Bucky coming up beside you until he puts his arm around your shoulders, startling you. “Sorry,” he frowns but you wave it away. "He hasn't come out yet?" You shake your head. "Have you knocked?" You nod. "What did he say?" "Told me to go away," you mumble.

At that moment Steve's door opens and his disheveled face appears. He hasn’t shaved and the stubble together with his bloodshot eyes and swollen face makes him ten years older. Seeing him like this makes your heart ache and you can’t help the small breath of his name that slips from your lips, out of instinct you reach out for him, but he pulls back and you quickly retreat.

"Leave me alone," Steve says with a tired voice and you take a step back but Bucky has had enough. For someone so wide, he moves quickly and you barely register it before it happens.

In a flash, he grips the back of Steve’s neck, pushes him down until he’s bent over, and grabs his arm to push it up against his back. "No," Bucky answers. "You have been in there for days, you smell like shit and you look even worse."

Steve tries to argue, “Buck, if you don’t fucking let me go right this goddamn second I’m going to fuck you up until-” You don’t think you’ve heard Steve curse so much through your whole friendship but Bucky is unfaced as he drags Steve out and towards his own room. You follow behind them, a little horrified by Bucky's treatment.

"You are gonna take a shower, eat dinner with us, and then we're all getting some fucking sleep." Bucky releases him inside the bathroom of his room and then closes the door behind him.

He glares at the door, daring him to open it but when the shower turns on both of you head to the kitchen. While Steve gets clean, you and Bucky look through the fridge for dinner. It’s not much for three college students but Bucky is excellent at making something out of nothing and you’re happy to assist.

“He’s so fucking stubborn,” Bucky complains. “Reminds me of someone else I know,” you murmur and then chuckle when Bucky gives you a sideways look, but you wave the carrot you’re holding at him threateningly and he smiles.

Steve steps out of Bucky’s room a while later, looking a little better, dressed in some of Bucky’s clothes. Without saying another word he steals a piece of the carrot you’re chopping and walks up to Bucky, who turns to him and opens his arms.

Steve doesn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist and bury his face in his shoulder. Ladle still in one hand, Bucky hugs him back and you turn back to the vegetables. They exchange low words that you can’t quite make out and you’re happy they can find comfort in each other.

Suddenly arms wrap around your waist from behind, lifting you and causing you to drop the knife, making it clatter on the counter. “Hey!” You begin but Steve doesn’t listen. Instead, he spins you around and puts you down so he can turn you towards him, before lifting you again to place you on the kitchen table.

“Bucky says you’ve been worrying,” his voice is soft as he cups your face, his eyes are red and tired, but also laced with concern. Tears burn in your eyes too, because you hate seeing him like this, but you won’t cry, not when he needs you. It’s so typical of him to worry about your feelings when he can barely keep it together. Taking a steading breath you explain, “Of course, it’s tough seeing you this heartbroken.” And place your hands on the outside of his.

“Can I-” Steve hesitates and you squeeze his hands, encouraging him. “Can I hold you? Just for a second?” He’s so timid when he asks but you smile at him and hold out your arms. “Take as long as you need,” you tell him.

Steve’s arms wrap around you again and much like he did with Bucky he buries his face in your neck. You caress up and down his back, his nape, run your fingers through his hair and don’t comment when you feel wetness on your skin.

Steve’s not always talkative when he goes through something, but if he’s tactile at other times, it’s amplified when he's sad. So when dinner is ready he sits between the two of you and makes sure your thigh is resting on top of his and that Bucky’s arm is pressed against his own while eating.

When all of you are done, Steve gets up first and grabs the dishes. Bucky and you follow and together you help clear the kitchen and it's like everything is normal for a few minutes.

It's not even eight but Bucky points toward his room. "Go." So you take Steve by the hand and he doesn't protest. More often you use Steve's bed because it's a little bit bigger, but his room is always littered with art supplies and since he's been in there for a while it's probably a bigger mess than usual. And your bed is too small to accommodate all three of you.

Lifting the covers you let Steve climb in first before dimming the lights and then sliding in beside him. Immediately he pulls you in until you're lying on his chest and that's how Bucky finds you. You can make out a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and you know it’s not because he’s happy about Steve’s situation, but because just like you feel, it makes him happy to see Steve find comfort.

It's a tight fit but Bucky tucks himself into Steve's other side and finds your hand, tangling your fingers together on top of his chest. A moment later Steve's breath hitches but you don't move, just share a glance with Bucky. Steve cries silently and then starts talking, about how much he misses Peggy and how it feels like he'll never be able to find someone like her again.

None of you try to tell him it will get better, because for him, right now, it will never get better. But with the help of time, you and Bucky will patch his heart until it's as good as new.

next

[badsugargoodpoison]

american-made | steve rogers

steve rogers × gn!avenger!reader

≈ 1.2k words • fluff + mild angst

You sustain a significant injury while on a mission. In your woozy state, there are some things you just need Steve to know. OR... You tell Steve exactly what color his eyes are.

warnings: 18+ only please, minors begone. implied violence, injuries (wounded side/stomach), blood and blood loss (though nothing graphic), reader makes it out a-okay but there's fear of death or permanent bodily harm, a little goofiness, unspecified relationship (i wrote it with a "mutual feelings but everyone's too chicken to act on it" scenario in mind, but it can be read platonically or romantically ♡), worried Steve

★ no use of y/n | no mention of body size, skin tone, or hair texture/length ★

A/N: Let me know if I missed something! I actually don't know where this came from, Steve isn't even usually My Guy™️ but... umm... my first lil' fic I've ever published, mayhap? I'm tempted to do a quick part two where romantic feelings are expressed but I kinda wanted to leave this as ambiguous as possible. Feedback is appreciated 😊

“Gonna lay you down,” Steve warns. The curves of his lips flatten into a tight seam as you nod. Then, the world tilts until the gunmetal gray ceiling of the jet stares you in the face.

As if they’re magnetized, your eyelids catch each time you blink. The warmth of the darkness tempts you, but you dutifully choose the daylight every time. After all, five minutes ago, Steve instructed you to keep your eyes open, and you'll be damned if you don't follow his orders—especially since they'd come out as staccato as gunfire.

He's still got his hands on you. One warm palm makes a pillow under your stiff shoulders, but the other, pressed to your waist, feels like the hot end of a poker—like a brand of his fingerprints.

The jet rumbles, and so does his voice, sure and low. You'd give anything to be pressed to his chest tight enough to feel the vibration of his words as they roll through him. Now though, all you can do is stare up at him as he moves back into view.

He's taken off his helmet to reveal a scruffy, sweat-soaked halo of hair. Afternoon light illuminates him in swathes of gold as it flickers in from the cockpit. With the blood on his cheekbone, the gray and brown grime settled into the lines of his face, and the bruise on his jaw, he looks every bit an avenging angel.

Or he would, if his brow wasn't pinched so tight.

Blue blue eyes search your face. They're shiny, so shiny you can almost see yourself reflected in them. They remind you of pool water, and of—

"Denim. Eyes are like denim." You state, weary but certain.

Steve's frown deepens.

"What?"

"I had these... these overalls as a kid—ah." You wince as Steve jostles you slightly, but it's not enough to deter you from your story. You bulldoze right ahead, and Steve's never been more grateful for your stubbornness.

"And I—my parents could never get me out of them. I lived in 'em. Practically. Never wanted to... to put on anything else." You heave in a breath, like a sigh at a story you've told a million times, not an attempt to gather up all your strength to get the words out.

"They got sooo gross at some points." Your emphasis on the words makes you giggle, but it also makes the pain flair in your side. Your hand smacks at Steve's lightly where it presses into your slick skin, and your blood smears against his wrist.

"I used to climb trees in 'em and... get cherry popsicle juice down the front but I'd still—still pick them out of the laundry the next morning." You drift off towards the end with a heavy blink and look off to your side into the abyss of the dull metal box you're flying in. It's obvious to him, as someone who's worn the same look many times, that the faraway glaze of your eyes is the sheen of memory brought to the surface.

To hold you any tighter would be to hurt you—and the tremble of his hands wouldn't allow it anyway—but the lump in his throat whispers that your sudden lapse in train of thought is a precursor to something worse.

"Hey—" he begins to say, and he attempts to unwind his brows so his solemnity doesn't startle you. Your focus snaps back to him with jarring intensity. Unabashedly, you stare. He finds himself stuck in your gaze as you slide your focus from one of his eyes to the other. You blink, once, twice, and then nod to yourself, though it's little more than a jerk of your chin. Steve doesn't have the heart to tell you.

"Anyway.” You pick up right where you left off. "They were denim and like the 'xact color of your eyes."

Steve feels something in his chest expand, at once taut and airy: he's a balloon caught in your tight fist. He smiles down at you as soft as he can. You're not finished yet—he can see it in the part of your lips and the shine of your eyes—and he is intent on listening.

"I was—was looking at your eyes the other day and trying to find the right thing. The thing that they are." Your focus drifts again, gaze wobbly and lashes fluttering to kiss your cheeks, but you gulp another breath.

Steve knows your strength is trickling away, that you've held onto consciousness with slippery tired hands and done it beautifully, but you can't do it forever. He wishes you could. He wishes you could stay conscious till he can get you to the medbay, because if you're not talking he has to bear the silence. No blood-curdling scream could ever compare to the dread of silence.

"Yeah? And what are they?" he asks, nearly whispering, and it seems to do the trick. The prompt coaxes your voice back out, and even though you talk past him, and ignore his question entirely to finish your thought, Steve doesn't have the time or the heart to care. He'll take anything he can get—whatever scrap of your voice you'll give to him right now.

"And now I know. They're my denim overalls." A small, proud smile tilts up your lips as your eyes flutter closed. You try to pat his hand, the one holding your insides where they're supposed to be, but it's barely a twitch.

"Now you know." He agrees, amicably. You're right of course, even if he's never seen the overalls you're talking about. Of course you're right.

The mild bemusement gives way to a frantic hammering in his chest; you haven't opened your eyes again.

"Hey.” He frees his hand from behind your back and tucks it underneath your neck, right at the base of your skull. Some of your own blood smears against your jaw as he thumbs across it.

"Hey, can you open your eyes for me, please? I gotta—gotta find the thing that yours are now, okay?"

You snap back to attention, and Steve's heart leaps when the hand over his grips just a little tighter.

"Steve—Steve I gotta tell you something."

You lose your consonants, mouth clumsy around the words like they're melting on your tongue.

Nat calls his name while you work on getting another sentence out and gives him a nod that he understands. The jet is landing. There's a medical team on standby. You're going to be okay.

"Hey, hey, why don't you tell me all about it when you're all patched up, okay?"

"Okay.” You accept easily, lips turning up again and eyes closing. The floor tilts as you begin to descend, but you're anchored by Steve's ridiculously strong arms and the hip he has pressed to your side. He brackets you to the spot with ease—Steve Rogers: 1, gravity: 0.

“I really like talking t'you,” you slur, and you think, through the daze of blood-loss and dull pain, that Steven Grant Rogers lets out a tiny laugh.

[atimeofyourlife]

Steve struggled with telling the difference between platonic and romantic feelings for others. If he had to pinpoint it, it would start in his childhood.

It started with his father bringing the new assistant, Rebecca, to Steve's fifth birthday party.

"She's a nice girl. She'll be a good friend to the family." Richard Harrington had said, dismissing his wife's disapproval.

Steve didn't think anything of it until he was sent to find his father before the cake was served. He found him in the study, with Rebecca perched in his lap as he kissed her.

"Don't worry about it Steven, we were just being friendly," Richard said as he shooed Steve from the room.

It got worse as Steve grew a little older, and the lines kept blurring in his friendship with Tommy and Carol. They all hung off each other throughout their childhood, holding each other's hands and hugging for comfort whenever needed. Practising kissing when they hit fifth grade, Steve and Carol, Tommy and Carol, Steve and Tommy.

Once Tommy and Carol started dating in seventh grade, the line blurred even further. Steve had thought it would be the end of whatever they had been doing, but it wasn't. When he was single they'd let him join them in making out. And it went further as they went through their teens. Carol was the first girl who let him touch her boobs. Tommy was the first person to give him a handjob. They were where he learnt how to eat out a girl and how to suck a dick. He was a little bit in love with both of them, but after every time, one of them would assert that it was all a part of friendship.

"What are friends for?" Tommy had laughed before walking off with his arm around Carol.

He thought it changed with Nancy. He fell in love with her, hard and fast. Even after the Upside Down happened and Barb died, he thought it was real. He was devoted to her, and would do anything for her. He apologized to Jonathan, and replaced the broken camera. He dropped Tommy and Carol, no longer allowing himself to blindly follow their cruelty. He kept up with basketball, baseball, and swimming, but also threw himself more into his academics. Taking his classes more seriously, trying to set himself up for a good college. Attending regular dinners with Barb's parents. Doing what he could to support Nancy through her grief.

Every time she stated her love for him, he felt a warm flutter rise in his stomach. He started planning a potential future together. Getting engaged sometime after Nancy graduated from high school, maybe after a year or two. Getting married once she was done with college. Having kids at some point. He wanted to be a present and involved father, everything his own father wasn't. He'd be happy to be the stay at home parent, so Nancy would be able to follow her journalistic ambitions. But it couldn't last.

"Bullshit." One word shattered everything. Her words of love had been a lie. Everything between them had meant nothing to her. He tried to apologize and make it up to her. He could do better and change for her, he had before. It didn't matter, because she was running off with Jonathan before their relationship had really ended.

It felt different with Robin. Steve felt more comfortable around her than he had around anyone for a long time. She wasn't like how other girls treated him. Only interested in his name or his looks, or his family's money. Robin made fun of him and his constant poor luck in getting a date, but it didn't feel mean or cruel. It wasn't a hard and fast fall, like it was with Nancy. It was more gentle, building slowly as their summer at Scoops went on. An alliance forming in solidarity of working food service in embarrassing costumes, all while having to deal with the worst the people of Hawkins could throw at them.

And then the Russians happened. Steve felt the love and care he had for Robin grow, watching her use her talents to translate and crack the code so quickly. Her taking his side to allow Dustin and Erica to escape. He couldn't allow more harm to come to her, so he fought to keep the Russians' attention on him. Not caring how badly hurt he was, as long as she was safe. They were thrown back together and drugged, and everything became a blur until they were on the floor of the men's bathroom.

"But Tammy Thompson's a girl?" In his drugged mind, it took him a moment to realise it meant she couldn't love him in the way he thought he loved her. The love still burned, but softer. Stronger. His other half, but in a different way. A new best friend. Almost like the sister he'd never had.

Eddie was a reckoning. Steve had been aware of him for so long, it was hard not to be. His reputation as a dealer, starting to sell weed at parties sometime during Steve's freshman year. His walking on the lunch tables, giving speeches about conformity and talking down to anyone whose interests didn't align with his. Steve never thought they'd be friends, let alone anything more.

But spring break happened. Vecna happened. Eddie was thrown into the mix of the Upside Down. Forcing Steve to at least play nice for a while. But it was easy with Eddie. Even amid the panic and fear, Eddie was easy to talk to. Walking through the Upside Down, heading for Nancy's house for her guns, Steve began to feel... something? Steve pushed it away, he'd made the mistake so many times before. Was it friendship, or was it something more? He wrote it off as it having been a while since he'd really had any close male friends around his own age. And what he had going on with Tommy wasn't the picture of a normal friendship.

He tried not to read into the flirting in the RV. Brushing it off as Eddie trying to push his buttons, or trying to get comfortable with him. The warmth he felt at any contact, he pushed it as his head getting confused. The pressure of the Upside Down, with the threat of the world ending, again.

"Hey, Steve? Make him pay." Eddie's words made him step back closer. He wanted to grab him, hug him, kiss him. Instead, he just reached out and zipped up Eddie's jacket.

"What's the point of having a jacket as protection and basically armor if you're going to wear it open," Steve grumbled, before turning to walk off with Nancy and Robin.

When it was over, Eddie was minorly injured. It would have been much worse, even fatal, if he hadn't had his jacket zipped. He just had to have the wounds cleaned and stitched. Steve's injuries, being much worse and exposed to the toxins from the Upside Down for much longer, landed him in a hospital bed in a private wing that Owens and his team set up.

Steve had a constant stream of visitors, but Eddie was one of the most frequent, alongside Dustin and Robin. And he found himself falling a little further with each visit. Eddie's stories and jokes and flirting just pulled him in. He allowed himself to flirt back, knowing it was the most he'd get. It was probably just Eddie's way of being friendly.

It all changed after Steve was discharged from the hospital, after Eddie had graduated high school. They spent many summer nights together, smoking, talking, flirting. No pressure. Steve found it nearly impossible to keep his feelings to himself, but he didn't want to have yet another rejection where he'd read the situation wrong. Confusing friendship with romance.

"Tell me I'm not the only one feeling this?" Eddie asked, handing the joint over to Steve.

"Feeling what?" Steve didn't want to assume, to get his hopes up. But the way Eddie phrased it, it made it hard.

"This. Us. The flirting. There is something here, right?"

"I- I thought I was the only one. I thought I was getting friendship confused with more again." Steve admitted quietly.

"Well, big boy, I'd never want just friendship with you." Eddie moved in closer, before Steve closed the distance to initiate their first kiss.

[closetnerd62]

Ace and Darry Headcannons

i watched another slime tutorial and i just couldn’t help but notice these two and their interactions so… i had to think about them for hours. Here’s some possible conclusions i’ve come to using the slime tutorial and Ace’s lore drop

Ace was close with Mrs Curtis because she was the only kind and present mother figure around once Ace’s gran passed and when she passed Darry gave Ace a pair of Mrs Curtis’s earrings

Once, Darry found Ace upset because some soc boys had followed her home, yelling catcalls out of the car window. This prompted her to tell him what happened during her childhood and how the whole thing makes her feel all gross inside and how she’s hyper aware of guys now. Let’s just say some socs were found by the football shed the next day with their shit rocked.

Darry is the most gentlemanly of the gang and that definitely applies to Ace. She likes that he’ll treat her like a lady (in the platonic sense, letting her through the door first, offering a hand off if high surfaces, etc.). Ace gravitates towards him when she wants to express more femininity and feel “protected”

Darry will swat the boys when they refer to a woman as just “hot” or “sexy”, partially because that’s what his mother would do and partially to make Ace more comfortable

Ace helped teach Darry how to do the chores that the curtis parents would typically do when they passed. She secretly tidys up a space or folds a couple of pieces of clothing almost every time she’s over.

Both of them love a good hug from behind, it makes them both feel protected and taken care of so when Darry seems particularly stressed about bills, ace will give him a squeeze and tell him to go to bed and when ace’s tough and confident exterior starts to slip Darry will put an arm around her and let her lean into him, not taking away from her power or toughness, but allowing her to feel just dainty enough.

neither of them like to talk about their feelings so they don’t talk much when either of them is upset, they’ll just sit side by side

everything between them is completely unspoken, there’s not even a word for their dynamic that I can think of. It’s not really a sibling like relationship (at least not the way that ace is with steve or darry is with his brothers) and it’s definitely not romantic. It’s just the mutual understanding that if you needed anything, no questions asked, the other would support you, no conversation or pressing needed. plus, the gangs general agreement of if anyone messes with you, i will personally rock their shit

[therainscene]

Much of the supernatural horror that Will has to contend with works extremely well as a metaphor for his issues -- the Upside Down is the closet, the monsters represent homophobia, his powers are as repressed as he is, yadda yadda -- and in my opinion, this makes him a relatively easy character to analyze. Being able to draw on the supernatural stuff just gives you a lot more material to work with.

Mike, though? A goddamn enigma. He’s often present when supernatural stuff is happening, but he doesn’t interact with it to anywhere near the degree that Will does, and it’s much harder to fold him into the allegory being told here without reducing him to “Will’s love interest”.

And that’s interesting, don’t you think?

That the “stereotypical” gay boy who attracts homophobes like moths to a flame has had his issues laid out in code since the beginning? Whereas the straight-passing one, who’s so deep in the closet he’s probably not even out to himself yet, is so hard to read that most of the GA assume his bizarre personality change in S3 was a symptom of bad writing?

Figuring yourself out as a queer is a challenge even today, and part of the reason it’s so challenging is because heteronormativity steamrolls right over our right to know that being queer is a valid option.

The closet isn’t a queer space -- it’s a queer-shaped void within a heteronormative space.

Stranger Things is full of examples of this:

Will isn’t shy about expressing his disgust at the thought of dating girls, but he’s dealing with a lot of childhood trauma so he’s just a late bloomer, right?

Will is jealous and upset about his new step-sister’s relationship with the boy he’s been attached to at the hip since he was five, but it must be because he’s in love with her or otherwise misses his platonic buddy, right?

El’s character arc is about freeing herself from toxic relationships with men, but her infatuation with the boy who puts her on a pedestal is the one exception to that, right?

Robin shows zero romantic interest in men before coming out, but she and Steve just vibe so well it’s reasonable to assume they’re love interests, right?

Vickie paused Fast Times at fifty-three minutes five seconds, but she has a boyfriend so she must be straight, right?

Over and over, the show presents us with an ambiguously queer situation and dares us to assume it’ll end heteronormatively.

If this were any other show I’d call it queerbaiting... but these situations just keep ending in a non-heteronormative way, all while symbolically dancing around Mike.

Granted, “non-heteronormative” doesn’t necessarily equal gay -- El’s arc is more about independence and forging healthy platonic relationships than about replacing men with women -- but she’s still on the path to breaking out of comphet, which is rather a queer act regardless of whether she's literally queer herself.

But I’m digressing.

We’ve seen how Will is visibly queer and struggles with the trauma of being abused for it, and how his closet is symbolized by the existence of a literal alternate dimension full of monsters.

But Mike is invisible, so his closet isn’t represented by a metaphor at all, but by something more meta than that -- it’s etched out in the negative space formed by the narrative itself. Only the audience can see it, and then only if we’re paying attention, tracing the edges of the story and feeling out the shape it results in.

These two different approaches in depicting the struggle of being closeted remind me of drowning.

In films, drowning is a noisy and dramatic affair, easy to identify.

But in real life, drowning doesn’t look like what we think it does -- it’s silent and resembles calm water play. All too often, drowning victims will quietly slip under and succumb helplessly to the depths...

...right under everyone’s noses.