#i have even more beef with steve now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lexirosewrites · 7 months ago

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The only thing worse than having to get braces put on as an adult is presenting as an omega on the exact same day— both far later than is typical.

It results in utter chaos.

At least, that’s how Steve felt about the whole ordeal.

Robin had been kind enough to stick around for his long appointment so she could make sure he had everything he needed afterwards.

Ice pack, pain killers, mouthwash. All the essentials.

They were prepared.

Just… not for a sudden presentation heat to start on the way home.

“Oh god. Oh god, Steve, okay listen— don’t panic. I know you’re in pain, but you need to hold tight so I can go get stuff to help you. Shit!”

Steve’s entire face feels worse than after Hargrove got through with it. Like ground beef.

His gums throb and his jaw aches terribly.

And now Robin’s leaving. Why is she leaving?

“Robsh?” Steve slurs out in a yell. The action makes the bands pull tighter.

“Be right back!”

She’s out the door and he’s left on the couch by himself. In pain. Awful, agonizing, burning pain.

Steve squirms around, trying to get comfortable.

Everything is hot. Too hot. It’s more than just his face— it’s his whole body. His muscles are twitchy, like they need to be stretched.

He’s laying in something wet. Blood? Could be. Maybe his mouth is bleeding. Seems reasonable at the moment.

“Owwww,” he whines to himself. “Fuck.”

The orthodontist said it would be mildly agitating pain and discomfort afterwards, not whole body sweats or cramps.

His head spins.

Where did Robin go again? She left so quickly, it’s hard to recall her reasons for leaving in such a rush.

Is he gonna die from braces? Can that even happen? Would he be the first?

“Hey, Stevie. As promised, I’ve got a strawberry banana smoothie with your name on it. Did Robin go home? Her car isn’t in the drivew—”

Huh?

“—and what in the hell is happening here?”

Steve rolls over to confirm that it’s not a burglar in his living room, but it’s just Eddie.

Oh. No? Hold on a moment.

Eddie has never smelled like that before.

He’s always had a faint smoke and leather sorta scent that even Steve’s unrefined beta nose could pick up on, but it’s much stronger than that now.

It’s deeper, more powerful and overwhelming.

It’s mouthwatering. Thigh clenching, even.

He whines in want.

“Alpha?” slips out before Steve can overthink it.

Eddie freezes and his eyes widen for a second. Then they narrow in a calculating way, like they’re trying to figure him out.

He sets the smoothie down and kneels next to the couch, one hand reaching out to cup Steve’s cheek lightly.

Steve winces at the touch, but his fingers are cold and they actually feel good on his sore face, so he relaxes into it.

“Hi there, pretty boy. Pink bands, huh? Cute. But it seems braces aren’t the only new thing today. You doing okay?” Eddie asks gently, soothingly.

He sounds more alpha than Steve’s ever heard him speak. The tone is comforting and reassuring.

Steve still isn’t entirely sure what they’re talking about though. He knows he had braces put on and then Robin left him alone. There’s some gaps in there somewhere and he feels like death.

His head is spinning too fast.

“I don’t know where Robin went,” he confesses in a whisper.

Eddie nods slowly, his expression understanding and kind. It makes Steve feel safe, unjudged for losing his best friend.

“I’m guessing she went to get some supplies for you, sweetheart. I’ve heard that the first one isn’t usually too bad, but Robin worries about you, ya know?”

He smells so good. How is Steve supposed to pay attention when Eddie smells that good?

Confused, he asks, “She was worried about my braces?” Too many words. It pulls at the bands in his mouth and he winces.

Eddie’s thumb brushes along his cheek sympathetically.

“No, baby… not quite. You’re in heat, Stevie.”

Heat?

No, that’s for omegas. Steve would know if he was an omega. He’d have heats. His body would be too hot and he’d produce slick and be attracted to alphas.

Ah.

“I’m an omega?” It’s as much a question to the universe as a shocked statement.

Eddie purses his lips. Conflict.

“You’re presenting a little later than usual, but evidently so. I’m guessing your lack of a pack before didn’t help anything, but you have us now. We’re gonna take care of you, honey… I’ll keep you safe, omega,” he promises solemnly.

The wetness between Steve’s legs becomes far more apparent.

It’s not that Steve never looked at Eddie before and thought he was attractive or that he’d make the perfect alpha to some lucky omega.

Steve just didn’t think he was that omega.

Or an omega at all, for that matter.

Eddie deserved more than some fucked up beta. He’s brave and kind, a good man.

He can visibly see when the scent of his fresh slick hits the alpha’s nose. The way Eddie’s nostrils flare and his breathing catches in his throat, like he’s trying not to inhale too deeply.

“Eddie?”

His eyes instantly dart to Steve’s mouth. He looks hungry. Starving, even.

For once in his life, Steve’s confident he won’t be rejected.

It’s in Eddie’s warm scent, in the way he’s always glanced at him a little too long, and never breaks his promises to him. Steve can see it clearly now.

This has been a long time coming.

“Anything.”

“Kiss me, alpha?”

Eddie doesn’t question whether he’s sure. He doesn’t tell Steve that this is a conversation for later or even hesitate.

He just holds Steve’s face like something fragile and precious when he kisses his lips far too carefully. Soft. Gentle.

They’re chapped from his appointment. Neither seem to care.

It’s a slow, lingering kiss. It ends much the same way.

The rush of pleasure and pure joy floods his entire body, making the pain in his jaw negligible when he lets out his first omegan chirp of happiness.

He still aches and yearns, but the ache is focused now. His inner omega just wants Eddie— his alpha.

“Please, Ed,” Steve whimpers, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck and getting his scent right from the source.

The alpha scratches down his back slowly, trying to calm him.

It’s an act full of love and kindness, Eddie’s attempt to not take advantage of him in his current state.

In any other situation, it would be noble. Steve would be flattered by the self control it cost an alpha to not ravage in omega in heat who’s begging for attention.

But he needs this. He’s also technically only in late pre-heat. That’s as far as presentation heats usually get.

Fever and need are there, but not the complete lack of awareness that accompanies full heats. He can make decisions.

“How can I help you, sweetheart?”

Steve can tell the effects of heat are taking ahold of his inhibitions though.

There’s no other reasonable explanation for the way he blurts out, “Cum all over my braces?”

#part two with actual smut to come soon!!!#steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steddie ficlet #omegaverse #a/b/o #braces #my fics

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ladykailitha · 6 months ago

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Paper Hearts Part 4

I finished it!! It will have 8 chapters. I'm excited for you guys to see where this goes! I'm still working on Sweet Home Indiana and will be focusing on that until ITS done. Then we'll be back our regularly schedule WIPs.

We have Eddie's big plan and Steve gets his flirt on.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

****

Steve slipped into the kitchen and there in his mother’s neat handwriting was a note telling him that there were leftovers in the fridge and that they would be home again next Friday.

He sighed and opened the fridge. He immediately closed it when he saw what the leftovers were.

Boiled cabbage with chopped bacon and carrots. It wasn’t bad if it was made correctly, but his mother boiled any flavor and nutrients out of the poor vegetables and then tossed in cooked bacon to hide its sins.

He opened the cupboard and pulled out a small can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and made that. He was craving the sodium. Eddie’s beef was good to get his body to stop shaking, but he had sweat so much he needed to replenish the salt he’d lost.

Once Steve had eaten and drank another glass of water he went to go get a shower and get ready for bed. It was no use trying to get back to his homework now. He had managed to blow up his whole evening by getting lost.

He had no idea how he got to Forest Hills or even why his feet carried him there in the first place. He could feel the weariness seeping into his bones from running for so long.

He undressed and got under the scorching water, letting the heat carry away his pains. His mind ran through all the things that Munson had done for him. The guy had no reason to be nice to him, but he had been more than gracious.

Then it hit him. Munson had called him Stevie, and without thinking Steve had called him Eds.

Eds.

Where the fuck did that come from? They weren’t friends, they could barely be considered acquaintances. Was his brain reaching out to the guy subconsciously? Is that why he ended up at the trailer park? Everyone knew that’s where Munson lived. Who knew how many times the guy had been called trailer trash, but the older teen seemed to rise above the insult.

Steve shook his head, spraying water everywhere. Just because Munson picked up lost sheep, didn’t mean he’d be willing to taken in an injured wolf. Because that’s what he was, reformed or not, Steve would never be a sheep. He would always be a wolf. A predator.

But at least as a wolf he could protect those kids with everything he had. And he would, even if it killed him.

The water had long since turned cold by the time Steve stepped out of the shower. He completed his after shower routine mostly on autopilot as he kept going over his interactions with both Munson men. He didn’t really have good interactions with dads or in this case uncles. But Munson’s uncle Wayne treated him with kindness and he could see where the older boy got it from.

He dressed into his pajamas and slid under the covers. He rolled over on his back and tucked one arm under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

Steve thought back to the apology. One Munson really didn’t have to give but did anyway. He thought about the other jocks that bragged about hurting his hand. He held it up and looked at the fading bruise. It wasn’t as though he was even basketball anymore. Hurting his hand wouldn’t do anything but make it hard to do his homework and all he had to do is show his teachers his hurt hand and he’d get extensions for that. Like he had for his concussion last November.

But then again Tommy H. never had reasons for the people he hurt either. He just liked the power he got seeing the person helpless.

He placed his hand over his heart and let himself drift off the sleep, brown eyes and dark curls haunting his dreams.

****

Eddie had originally bought the red heart for himself like he had told the two juniors. But staring at it now, he had a better plan for it. Because that last wall, that last bastion of defense crumbled to ashes when he realized that despite the fancy car, the big house, and the expensive clothes, Steve Harrington was more like Eddie than he thought possible.

Wayne’s approval of the boy cemented that for him. Because if he could take one look at Steve and decide he was worth saving, then Eddie raring to go full steam ahead for a rescue mission.

Eddie could tell that the hearts were made from simple construction paper, like the kind found just about anywhere. He knew it would be technically cheating to just simply make more instead of buying them, but he had no intention of contributing to a dance he was never going to go to because one, it wasn’t his year; two, the whole gay thing; and three, the one person he would want to go with if the gay thing wouldn’t get him hate crimed, wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Well, all right, that might have changed with the whole rescuing him from wandering alone in the dark thing.

He forgave Eddie about being a dumbass, so maybe there was hope for, at the very least, a vast decrease in hostility. And he was willing to take what he could get.

He decided to wait until tomorrow after school to get the construction paper and hope that the high school hadn’t bought up the town’s supply.

On his way out the next morning, Wayne stopped him.

“You don’t have to tell me, son,” he said gently, “but you got feelings for that boy?”

Eddie froze and turned slowly to face his uncle. “What gave you that idea?”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Boy, when you’d go on rants about the Harrington boy, you’d describe his floppy hair, his hazel eyes and how unfairly good looking the kid was. I didn’t say anything because it did sound like he’d been a bit of an ass. Only after last night I got to thinking and was wondering is all.”

Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. He let out a long shuddering breath, his bottom lip quivering.

“I–I don’t...” he closed his eyes again. This wasn’t Al. He wasn’t going to get beat for admitting it, but still it was so hard to say. So he just nodded.

Wayne came up and wrapped his arms around his nephew. “It’s a hell of a lot tougher batting for the other team, but I trust your judgment. Just promise me that if he shows signs of liking you back, you take the chance to tell him how you feel because...”

“You miss one hundred percent of the chances you don’t take,” they said together.

Eddie dropped his bag to the floor and hugged him back. “I know, old man. But I promise if there is a chance, I’ll be brave enough to take it.”

“Get going,” Wayne said, voicing cracking with emotion.

He pulled back and nodded. He reshouldered his backpack and got in his van.

He had a lot to think about and that really wasn’t conducive to paying attention in class or to his friends as they talked about their upcoming D&D session.

Gareth kicked his shin causing him to yelp.

“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie hissed.

“What the fuck is up with you?” Gareth hissed back. “You’ve been going on and on about the mind flayer for weeks and now that it’s literally this weekend, and you’re off in some other realm.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment before his brain came back on. He shook his head to clear it.

“Yeah, sorry, man,” he said around a pretzel. “Weird night last night.”

“What happened?” Jeff asked, tilting his head to the side.

So Eddie told them. “He was like a ghost, guys. If Wayne hadn’t seen him too, I would have thought I was hitting Mary Jane a little too hard, you know?”

“I didn’t realize he was getting bullied,” Brian said, frowning. “I would have thought with Hargrove giving the dude a wide berth, that everyone else would have too.”

“Untouchable,” Jeff agreed. “The fact that jocks are now splintering into factions tells you what kind of control Steve actually had on them.”

Eddie rubbed his chin. “I don’t know how true this is, but if Harrington wasn’t lying, he’s a real sweetheart, too.”

Then he leaned forward and explained about the pink heart scheme.

“So,” Gareth said, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them, “you’re telling us is that we have been seriously remiss in our duties in collecting lost sheep.”

The older teen sighed and shook his head. “I’d like to collect him, but I’m afraid the wolves might decide to rip him apart before we got him to safety if we tried.”

Jeff winced. He knew what Eddie was talking about. Steve Harrington wasn’t the usual lost sheep. He might be bullied now, but as King, Harrington had run far too long with the wolves to think that they could protect him one hundred percent of the time.

“So what are we going to do?” Brian asked. “Because if we let this slide, we’re throwing our lot in with the bullies and that’s something I refuse to do.”

A grin spread out over Eddie’s face, closed lips and dimples entrenched into his cheeks. “We’re going to make the school think that he’s just as popular as he ever was.”

The other three boys looked at each other in confusion.

“So what have you got?” Gareth asked, his own grin starting to take over his face.

****

Eddie made sure to get to class early so he could see where Steve was going to sit. He tried to tell himself it was about the dude’s hand, but it wasn’t working. He wanted to see if the former Hawkins royalty would chose to sit with his old friends or by him again.

He didn’t have long to wait. Steve walked in not long after he did, just as the bell rang. He didn’t even look at his old desk near the front and beelined it for the chair he had sat in on Friday.

The teacher picked up on the change immediately and wrinkled her nose. “I am to suppose that you are taking up permanent residence in the back with Mr. Munson, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve half shrugged as he began to pull out his things for class. “I got more work done, Mrs. Dixon and I really want to graduate on time.”

Mrs. Dixon nodded. “Agreed and as long as you continue the level of attention from last week, you are permitted to stay there.”

About half way through class while Mrs. Dixon was grading papers, Tommy H. turned around and kicked Steve’s chair. “Suck up,” he hissed.

Steve puckered his lips and wagged his eyebrows. “Why? Do you want to be next?”

Tommy turned back around, his face bright red.

Eddie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side as he considered everything about that interaction.

A little blossom of hope sprouted in his chest and he fought to keep it down. Steve had insinuated that other people were gay for years, but to Eddie’s highly trained gay ears, that sounded like Steve was offering to suck Tommy H.’s dick and that Tommy didn’t exactly turn him down.

Curiouser and curiouser, he thought tapping his lips thoughtfully. More research would have to be done.

He pulled out a different notebook, the one he used for campaign notes and song lyrics.

He wrote girls over one column and boys over the other and began tallying what he knew about the former King of Hawkins.

A shit ton went into the Steve liking girls column, but there was surprisingly more in the liking boys column then he would have thought possible. He looked up to catch Steve smirking at him.

Eddie quickly covered his notebook and stuck his tongue out at Steve.

The other boy shook his head and went back to doing the assignment. Eddie was more careful about what he left out in the open because he didn’t want Steve teased for it nor did he want him to see that Eddie was trying to figure him out.

The bell rang and the notebook was suddenly whisked off his desk.

“Hey!” Eddie cried, looking up to see Steve dancing away with the notebook teasingly. “Stevie!” He grabbed his bag and chased after the other boy. But the other boy was a jock and Eddie was wheezing for breath by the time he caught up with him at his locker.

“Give that back,” he huffed.

Steve gave him a bright smile and handed it back. “I just made a minor addition.”

Eddie frowned as he flipped through the pages but didn’t see anything. Steve took it back and turned to the correct page and leaned close so that only Eddie could hear.

“I trust you’ll keep my secret,” he whispered and then dropped to one knee to start getting into his locker.

Eddie gulped at the sight and turned to the paper to avoid saying something stupid. There in bold capital letters under his girls/guys columns was the word BOTH.

He looked up at Steve who had stood up. Steve winked at him and then walked away, leaving a shocked Eddie behind.

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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alaskan-wallflower · 4 months ago

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Since I really love your hurt/comfort hcs, do you have any hcs about how the gang are when they’re sick? You can do it for any of the gang, whoever you have ideas for! ❤️🎞️

Oh boy do I- (Sorry that Dally and Two Bit hardly have any, I don’t have much on their characters for this lol-also I didn’t do Steve purely because i don’t know anything about him because there was like-one line about him in the book lmao)

Ponyboy Curtis

Honestly Darry doesn’t believe Pont sometimes when he says he feels sick because he knows Pony used to fake it sometimes-

So he sends Pony to school only to get a call not even an hour later saying Ponyboy passed out and threw up at school

Pony is WHINY when he’s sick

He doesn’t say much, he just whimpers and whines a lot

Stomachaches are most frequent with him. Especially because of anxiety, he tends to literally worry himself sick

Darry can’t really tell the difference between when Pony is hungry, anxious or sick so he probably made Pony just eat that morning and said he was probably “just anxious” and sent him on his way

Soda kept trying to insist Pony was sick but Darry wouldn’t listen, so Pony just tried to suck it up

Johnny was the one who brought him home, thankfully. He didn’t really know what to do though and Pony kept begging him not to call Darry because the school already did and he doesn’t wanna be a bother

Like I said, he gets stomachaches a lot

So he’s just curled up in a blanket, sniffling while he tries to hold back tears because his stomachaches can get painful as hell

He doesn’t eat when he’s sick. At all. Darry and Soda literally have to try and force him to eat

His favorite is any kind of stew. Especially beef stew. He’s a sucker for it.

When he vomits it tends to be REALLY violent

Like I’m pretty sure he’s fractured a rib from how violent his vomit bouts tend to be

He’s living off ondansetron, Tums and pepsi because he prefers just burping everything up over throwing his back out when it comes to puking

Ges so pitiful too like he just stares at you with these glossy ass eyes and you can’t tell if it’s from sickness or tears and his cheeks are red and his hair is sticking up everywhere

He’s clingy too like Soda cannot escape his grasp

“Pony ai have to go to work” “Nooooo five more minutes :(“

He always has warnings before he throws up. His stomach starts getting loud and he starts very violently burping and someone (usually Darry) has to literally pick Pony up and hold him so he can throw up

They try everything to make it less painful. Soda is squeamish with vomit but he’ll rub Pony’s stomach and Darry will try to hold him kinda tight so he doesn’t convulse too hard and hurt himself

You can always tell when he’s getting better tho evacuate he starts asking for and seeking out food

It was really only one time that Darry refused to let him stay home but it turned out Pony actually had like-a really bad flu and now Darry just takes his word for it (unless he knows Pony has a test or smth in a class he’s not good in but then he starts getting suspicious)

He likes being read to. He’ll ask Soda to read him Great Expectations or Gone With The Wind

“Haven’t you read those like a million times?” “Please..? 🥺” “fine”

(side headcanon but Soda does different voices for different characters and even when he’s sick it makes Pony laugh because he’ll give Pip this rally deep raspy voice or smth)

He’s really just weak for a bit and then he’s like “Darry I’m hungry” and they’re just like “okay yeah he’s getting better”

Sodapop Curtis

Oh. My. God. He’s so fucking dramatic

”Darry, I think I’m dying” “You have a head cold”

You think Ponyboy is whiny you should hear Sodapop

He has a very vocal tummy and being sick isn’t an exception to this

When him and Pony are trying to sleep he’s just curled around his stomach trying to make it be quiet because he knows Pony has school and he doesn’t wanna keep him up

Its genuinely kind of sad because he really just wants to be taken care of but he knows Pong will be at school and he doesn’t wanna ask Darry to take care of him

So he goes into work until Steve catches him vomiting in the bathroom and takes him home

Soda insists on not calling Darry but once he’s asleep Steve calls him

He feels like a burden honestly but he keeps that to himself

He sleeps. A lot. And if you try to wake him up he actually starts crying

He absolutely detests throwing up and will do just about anything to avoid doing it

Hell unironically whine to Darry about how “my tummy hurts :(“

Darry is so over it lmao (he loves Soda but he’ll literally just take Pony to the side and be like “thank you for being somewhat easy when you’re sick” and pony is just like 😒

Soda has an iron grip and when he’s sick and you get stuck in his arms you are NOT escaping

He’s surprisingly hungry when he’s sick like he can eat full meals. They’re small. And probably soup and crackers but he can do it

Hes very shaky and uncoordinated tho so usually he has to have Pony, Darry or Steve help him. Pony and Darry are sweeties about it but Steve will be like “what you want me to do the “here comes the airplane” bullshit?”

He does it in the end and Soda feeds into it. When there together they’re absolute fucking boys and its insane

It’s very rare for him to actually throw up. He has to be REALLY sick in order for that to happen

But when he does throw up? It’s a lot.

his brothers learned this the hard way

Now if they see him twitch in the slightest they’re picking him up bridal style and hoisting him over their shoulders and plopping him in front of the toilet and holding his hair back

He gets very fussy if he gets vomit on himself like he’s immediately like “no i need to shower now”

He absolutely has a kitten sneeze

He gets really depressed when he’s sick because he can’t go outside or do much so he’s just sulking the whole time lmao

He snores when he’s sick because his nose gets stuffy (it’s really weak snoring but enough to keep you awake)

He’s very dramatic tho

It’s kinda like when you accidentally step on a dog’s tail and start doting on them so they milk it a bit (could just be me, I have a very dramatic dog) like the minute you start babying him he goes from “this sucks” to “I’m dying@

“Darry, Pony, I think I’m dying” “Soda, you’re fine. You have a stomach bug” “Can you put red carnations on my grave” “For fucks sake”

They still baby him but he can get annoying lmao

Steve usually takes care of him too when Pony is at school and Darry is at work

You can always tell when he’s better because you can kinda bribe him out of milking it

“I feel like I’m dying” “Yeah, okay. Pony and I are going to McDonalds.” “…can I come”

Hes a doofus. I love him.

Darry Curtis

You cannot get this man to take a break

Don’t even try. He could have puke on his shirt, be drenched in sweat, have a garbage can full of tissues next to his bed and he’ll still be like “yeah i’m fine”

(he’s not fine)

He’ll literally either A.) have to pass out at work, B.) be barricaded inside by his brothers or C.) work himself to the bone to the pony he can’t even get out of bed without stumbling from being so weak

Its usually A or C but sometimes Pony and/or Sofa will intervene and be like “Darry you literally have a 102.7 fever, you threw up, you sweated the Atlantic ocean onto your bed, you’re not roofing houses like this”

And he’s too weak/annoyed to argue

He tries to do everything for himself like if he has to throw up he drags himself up. If he knows he needs to try and eat he’ll be trying to make himself something. It honestly gets to the point where Pony and Soda are snuggling him through the sickness and if there’s even a sign that he’s hungry, or a sign he needs to throw up, one will haul him out and the other will make sure he doesn’t try to do anything by himself

The two of them honestly try to baby him but he’s like “I don’t need to be babied”

He won’t admit it even on his death bed but he loves when his brothers take care of him. It’s a nice change of pace for him and it makes him happy to know his brothers love him so much

He used to feel awkward because Pony and Soda were his younger brothers and he was supposed to care for them but he accepts being taken care of now

Usually his sicknesses come form over exhaustion and not sleeping a lot. So don’t expect him to wake up like…at all when he’s sick

If you even try to wake him up you will be dealing with a VERY angry Ponyboy and Sodapop

Darry doesn’t get stomach bugs too often. Mostly when he’s sick he’s just dealing with a monster of a headache and feeling like he’s gonna pass out at any minute

He has a hard time accepting he’s sick because he thinks it makes him look weak but y’know. His brothers don’t take that from him

He tends to get very frustrated with himself for not being able to stand up properly or the fact that he stumbles to even go and take a shower

He hardly complains unless he’s actually in pain. Because he gets REALLY sore when he’s sick too. His muscles tend to just temporarily die and he’s left shaky and feeling weak

Sods always gives him massages though to try and ease it up. And Darry loves it. Soda has literally put him to sleep on more than one occasion

Pony and Soda both have to carry him to his bed after which is near mission fucking impossible because they’re both lanky as fuck and he’s bigger

It’s hard to tell when he’s genuinely getting better because he will pull some creative shit to try and get back to work. Point and Soda never fall for it though and always drag him back to rest

He deserves a break, man. Give him one :(

Johnny Cade

He’s honestly so quiet about being sick. Like his normal face is already pale and nervous looking so he doesn’t look too far off when he’s sick

He does g admit to anyone when he’s sick because he doesn’t wanna feel like a burden So he just houses himself up at the lot and prays no Socs jump him

Pony usually finds him passed out in the broad sunlight (side headcanon that Johnny needs it to be dark or near dark to fall asleep) and Pony carrie’s him to his place

When he woke up he was honestly just really surprised and mildly upset with Pony for bringing him back to his place

“I told you, I don’t wanna be here-just let me go back to the lot-“ “N O”

He eventually gives in after a while of this because 1. he’s too tired and 2. He genuinely kind of wants to be doted on. But he would rather put a loaded gun in his mouth than admit that

Either Pony bings him to his place or Dally ends up keeping him at Buck’s place before realizing the partying and smell of alcohol probably doesn’t help Johnny so to the Curtis house it is

Dally would absolutely baby him. But if ANYONE brings up the fact that he’s a smidge softer than normal he will break their jaw

He’s not completely soft but he’ll bring Johnny some medicine and his favorite snacks and drinks and will just sit by his bed and make sure he’s okay

I like the little brother dynamic a lot-I have a lot of headcanons about Dally’s past if you’re interested lol-but anyway

When Dally’s in the cooler, the Curtis boys take care of him

He hates being babied but at the same time he’s not used to positive attention. So he kind of just accepts it

He, like Pony, usually worries himself sick, either worrying about what will happen when he goes home nor worrying about the Socs

So he often gets really bad stomachaches too, but not to worry-Soda has magic hands, I swear-Johnny gets REALLY jumpy when Soda first tries to give him a tummy rub but eventually just loosened up and allowed it because it felt nice and kept him from wanting to throw up

He did throw up on Darry’s bed once though and thought Darry was gonna kill him but Darry honestly just shrugged it off and told him that worse has happened in that bed. So Johnny completely relaxes after that

He tends to throw up easily, he has a weak stomach already and when he’s stressed and sick he can’t even hold water down

He tends to get really high fevers too which can be scary for some time

I kinda headcanon that he’s bilingual because one of his parents is Hispanic, so sometimes he’ll just utter stuff in Spanish and nobody really knows what he’s saying

He refuses to take his shirt off though because 1. he hates his body and 2. he’s insecure of his vitiligo (side headcanon that he has vitiligo)

So he’s just left sweating and curled up on the bed

Hes usually on extra high alert when he’s sick though because he knows he’s delirious and he knows he’s slower than normal so he’s constantly in fight or flight and Pony will sit with him for however long it takes for him to calm down

He’ll read to Johnny too to try and get him to just sleep for even a little bit

He did nearly get jumped once when he was sick but he ended up actually kinda fighting back and that’s when Dally had to come in and help him out because he was just standing with his switchblade with unfocused wyes while shaking like a chihuahua

He’s a decent patient. He’s jumpy. He’s kinda always on edge. But he lets himself be taken care of in the end.

Dallas Winston

He swears he never gets sick but he does

When he’s sick he gets even more angry if that’s possible

He just hangs out at Bucks because he would rather dig his own grave than be doted on by the gang

So he kinda prefers to take care of himself. But Johnny always knows when he’s sick. It’s like a spidey sense of his, knowing whenDallas is sick

So it’s either Johnny getting to help Dally get better or Dally is living in Buck’s bedroom with nothing but alcohol and smokes.

Sometimes Johnny will come over to try and give Dally medicine or something. Dally did NOT wanna take it but Johnny took no shit

“C’mon, Dal. You need to take it to get better.” “No I don’t, just leave me be” “You’re taking it whether you like it or not”

Theyre such a dynamic duo I swear

Dally refuses to take any flavored medicine either because he wants to look tuff. But he CANNOT swallow pills dry

He can chug down beers and eat chicken legs like a beast but when it comes to pills? Nuh uh. He can’t do it. He tries and ends up almost throwing up on himself.

Hes honestly not even awake whenever he’s sick. He’s always sleeping or just sitting and staring at the ceiling

He doesn’t get sick TOO often but when he does he refuses to leave Buck’s place.

He literally just shows up at Buck’s place whenever he’s sick like “I feel like shit and I’m crashing here thanks

Buck doesn’t give a shit, he’s drunk or high half the time so he’s just like “oh ok”

Sometimes Johnny will bring Pony along because pony wants to come too

Dally kinda gets pissed at first because he’s like “I don’t want you two babying me or harassing me to take my medicine, I’ll do it when I want to.

So honestly that’s just kinda how he is lmao. He’s not abreast patient. At all. And in the end he will curse you out for trying to make him take medicine (alcohol is the best medicine to him) and he will shoot down any requests for care. But if you’re Johnny you might…MIGHT be able to get through to him

Two Bit Mathews

Let’s be real he was a dirt eater as a kid

He has the immune system of a tank. But when he does get sick he might as well be drunk with how delirious he acts

He just crashes on the Curtis’ couch and whoever is up first (Darry or Pony usually) will just stare at him for a minute, roll their eyes and heave him up so they can clean him up because he puked on himself and the floor and the couch and the wall and somehow the ceiling

Nobody knows how he does it. He kinda just…does.

Usually his sicknesses come from the massive fucking hangovers be endured after going to parties so you’re dealing with a very delirious, snarky, stubborn Two Bit who will eat all the chocolate cake in the house no matter how sick he is

He jsut crashes on the Curtis’ couch for a few days because he’s honestly just so exhausted and doesn’t give a shit. They know he’s better when he’s left their house

He only likes the flavored kids shit. Darry refuses to buy it so Two Bit will sneak out and steal it because he’s just like that

Whenever he gets a hangover he’ll just drink a giant think of Pepsi or something because he knows he’s dehydrated and whatnot and that’s the only thing that helps

That or milk. Whatever is in the Curtis’ fridge

He literally just sits in front of the TV all day and it ticks Darry off so fucking much

“You were just complaining bait how much your head was hurting and now you’re over here watching TV. What world does that make sense in?” “My world. Now move, I wanna see what happens next.”

He’s so annoying sometimes lmao-then he just flat out ends up leaving with the Curtis’ cake being like “yeah I feel better, thanks for letting me crash, bye”

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston #two bit mathews #steve randle #the outsiders headcanons #sickfic

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erroryeswifi · 2 months ago

Note

I like your Steve and Harold being nemesis hc! Can we get more lore? >< If you want to👍

Boy, am I glad you asked!

Okay for starters, the whole reason I picture them having beef stems from two main reasons:

1. Harold is a piece of shit bully, and Steve is extremely bulliable (imo at least haha) and

2. (The main reason) both Steve and Harold both went into school for psychology (at least they should have).

Now you may ask, wdym they both went into school for psychology? Where did you hear that from? Well, it’s more of an assumption tbh but the thing is, Harold is a Therapist and Steve is a school counsellor. Both are professions that need a bachelors degree in psychology (plus teachers college for Steve since he’s also a teacher/works with kids). So I always thought it’d be fun to pair them up, that’s basically it.

Okay now with that settled this is how I imagine the eras of their relationship:

Elementary school:

The two met in school as kids. Their relationship with one another at this point is really just Harold picking on Steve for dumb kid stuff. But as they get older it mostly becomes more targeted towards Steve’s femininity. Harolds bullying on this topic specifically is a big push into it becoming a major insecurity. It sticks with him for a long time even as an adult he’ll sometimes (rarely though) get a bit insecure about being effeminate. (An example of this could be in the episode “The Sorcerer”. Where we see the infamous “I am a man!” line from Mr Small. I love this clip so much so here it is ⬇️)

High school:

Similar to elementary school this bit of their relationship is also mostly just bullying. Though this time ramp the intensity 10 fold! Now it’s more than just bullying, it’s straight up abuse. Getting beat up and yelled at constantly and for very personal things too (*cough* being gay *cough*). Luckily for Steve though he has some friends that have his back and help whenever they can (Sal left thumb, Patrick Fitzgerald and Nicole Watterson to be specific). I’m a truther to the idea that Harold is bisexual as fuck but is so deep in the closet even he doesn’t know he’s in there.

University:

Now this is where things get messy. After graduating High school, Steve is excited to start his new University life! He got into a good school for psychology in the hopes of becoming someone who can help make change in people’s lives. Due to his direct family not living in Elmore and the fact that he’s old enough to live on his own at this point, Steve decides it would be best if he lived in a dorm. It’s cheaper than an appartement and it’s on the school campus. It’s perfect! And he’s very excited to start this new chapter of his life. Once he gets to his dorm he knocks on the door excited to meet his new roommate. And to his demise, Harold Wilson opens the door.

Basically this era the two have to deal with being roommates. Harold doesn’t seem to mind it in comparison to Steve who is absolutely mortified at the idea. Steve wants to give him a chance, they’re both adults now and he doesn’t want some stupid childhood rivalry to mess up this experience for him.

To Steve’s surprise, Harold seems to have mellowed out. He’s still arrogant and annoying but it’s not as bad as he thought it would be. He learned to live with it, and he did so peacefully. He didn’t mind it and it felt nice not having tension between each other.

It was like this for a while before Harold started becoming a bit touchy. It catches Steve off guard but he figures Harold is just becoming more comfortable with him so he doesn’t think much of it. Well he was right, Harold was becoming comfortable, very comfortable. Harold decided this was the perfect opportunity to experiment with himself. And I don’t really know how to write this smoothly but basically the two of them ended up becoming low maintenance zero commitment flings BAHAHAHA!

There is no romance involved in this. Steve does not like Harold in any romantic sense at all but he’s desperate and lonely and having someone anyone to at least pretend to fill that void was good enough for him. As for Harold, he’s really just experimenting, no feelings involved and definitely no feelings of guilt unlike Steve. I think after high school a lot of Steve’s friends and him drifted apart. He’s still friends with them but they don’t hang out nearly as much as they used to.

This relationship of theirs goes on for their first year of University. In the second year, Steve decides he’s not happy living like that and requests to switch roommates (which he does). After that he and Harold didn’t ever talk to each other other than class related things as they still shared classes. Once Steve manages to get his bachelors degree he leaves the school to do teacher’s college while Harold stays to get his PhD in psychology.

Post Uni/Work:

This era is the tamest their relationship has been. Their relationship at this point is professional as the majority of direct contact between them is Mr Small as the guidance councillor for Harold’s son. Other than that, the only interactions between them is occasionally bumping into each other in public by accident. Harold makes a few witty comments and that’s about it.

Wow! Okay that was a lot, but yeah, this is the sum of how I imagine their relationship is. I guess you could say this is apart of my Highschool/College Au? But the thing about that Au is that it’s just how I envisioned the past lives of literally everyone, it is doesn’t specifically revolve around just Mr Small or anything ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#I really hope this was easy to understand #I’m not all that good at putting my thoughts into words #I think in comic form haha #tawog #the amazing world of gumball #mr small #steve small #harold wilson #ask

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imdead770 · 10 months ago

Note

yours and soda's first argument

Sodapop Curtis x Reader - First Fight

Authors Note - So sorry for not writing this sooner, I don't really have an excuse, I just never felt like it. Enjoy!

• The fact the two of you even fought is crazy to me

• I think Soda is pretty good with communication

• Like he comes to you if he's hurt, you go to him, there's no secrets between either of you

• But there's one thing we all know

• Just because Sodapop has a partner doesn't mean the girls will leave him alone

• Maybe one of them go a bit too handsy while you were coincidentally at DX

• Poor Sodapop has no idea they're flirting because he's just like 'okay, they're touching my arm, weird but you do you'

• Then she gets more handsy

• And the thing that made you mad is Sodapop didn't do shit about it

• This random girl was practically feeling him up and he was just smiling and talking to her, trying to get customer service points

• I'd be mad too

• You know Soda would never cheat on you

• But still, if some random guy had his hand on your bicep you'd say something about it

• At least lean away

• But Sodapops just sitting there, all smiles.

• So eventually Soda comes back to the Curtis house where you often are, all excited to tell you about what Steve did today

• Only to be met with you

• His first thought is 'aw, she had a bad day'

• Which is so sweet holy shit

• But back to the beef

• You, obviously, confront him

"Hey.. how come you were letting that girl touch you like that?"

• He's gotta think for a second because he doesn't even remember any girl

• Then it clicks

• Shit, she was flirting??

• Aw fu-

"It ain't anythin' important"

• Right when he said it he regretted it

• 'WHAT THE HELL'RE YOU THINKING??'

" What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It's nothing."

"What, you let hot girls feel you up and then come home to me all sunshiney?"

"It's not-.."

• This idiot

• His swore his brain wasn't working

"Why ya' gotta be so jealous?"

• Oh shit

• He could've sworn he heard a snap in your nervous system

"What?"

"Look, darlin', I didn't-"

"Can you shut up for one second? What the hell do you mean?"

• He can't even respond

• He's still internally slapping himself on the forehead

"Are you gonna just stand there?"

"I.."

• You just rolled your eyes (understandable) and walked off

• The moment you left he slapped him in the forehead with an audible 'pow'

• After that, if you're like me, you kept your distance

• Cause, for a good reason, you're pissed

• Sodapop goes to Darry for advice

• And of course Darrys response is

"Are you stupid?"

"I dropped outta school, Dar', course I'm stupid."

"Yeah but I didn't think you were that stupid"

• He tells Soda to give you your space

• And Soda tries, he really does

• But he just can't avoid you

• He's literally head over heels for you and he's supposed to just ignore you??

• So eventually he finally manages to track you down

• This man is practically on his knees begging you to forgive him

"I'm so sorry, I ain't never do it again, it was stupid I know-"

• If I were in your shoes I'd start laughing

• Or maybe you're still mad

• Or you're smiling at the apology, depends on who you are.

• But it's practically impossible not to forgive him

• He said "I'm sorry" at least 500 times by now

• He sounds like Eminem at this point

• So either you're

A) "I forgive you, Soda"

B) To stubborn to forgive so you just kiss him

• I'm personally a B but you do you

• It's the sweetest kiss ever

• Pure wattpad fanfiction kiss

• Soft and sweet with both of you smiling into it

• Especially Soda

• He hasn't tasted you in like.. 1 day

• That's practically an eternity

• In summary

• Arguments with Soda rarely happen

• And if they do they last for 3 days max

• Normally with Sodapop knocking at your window with some roses and his award winning smile

• And no matter how big the problem is

• You always end up making out

• Gotta love Soda

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #sodapop curtis #the outsiders x reader #sodapop headcanons #steve randle #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #darry curtis #two bit mathews #johnny cade #sodapop curtis x reader #the outsiders sodapop #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis headcanons

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strangersteddierthings · 18 days ago

Text

Gut Instinct: Chapter 5 - Saturday

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Interlude] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five]

He decides on spaghetti. Mostly because tomorrow is grocery day and all he’s got is spaghetti ingredients. He presets the oven before getting some water into a pot to boil. He slices some French bread to make cheesy garlic bread and sets it to the side to finish later. He’s too tired from the day’s events to make meatballs, though, so he just browns the ground beef and pours the spaghetti sauce over it to heat up, moving onto the noodles and then back to the finish the bread.

While waiting for the ding of the timer for the garlic bread, Steve sets the table. Two plates, two forks, two glasses of water. It’s nothing he hasn’t done before for Robin but this feels different to him. Munson is a stranger, someone he barely even registered in school. When he spoke with Munson yesterday, that had to be the most words they’d ever exchanged. Steve was in school with him all four of his years there and so self-absorbed for most of it that he didn’t give anyone his parents wouldn’t have approved of the time of the day.

And now here he is, being a creep because it feels like every time he blinks, he sees all of Munson on display in the bathroom, boxers barely leaving anything to the imagination. He’s also thinking about how Munson had been standing. Like he was trying to be on display, standing as tall as he could while trying to look like he was disinterested in his surroundings. A conclusion Steve comes to because he’d done the same kind of postering when he was in high school; a way to draw attention and gauge the interest of people around him.

“Smells good in here, Harrington,” Munson’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. Steve, who was staring down at his dinner plate, looks up. Munson looks more relaxed, or at least, less terrified. His hair is still wet, making the Henley wet where his hair touches, and it looks longer and more tangled than when he got in the shower. It’s painfully clear that Munson did not use the conditioner. He’s just a few feet away from the table, his clothes in a ball in his hands. Munson looks good in the Henley, looks good in Steve’s clothes, and something like possessiveness runs through him.

Steve says, “Hope you like spaghetti,” because he thinks his brain has quit working for a moment, and he needs to get that going again. “Uhh, washing machine’s this way.”

They get Munson’s clothes going, mixed with some of Steve’s because he’s not running an entire wash cycle for that minuscule amount of clothing. He leads the way back to the kitchen, picking up the pace as he hears the timer. Munson fades into the background as Steve gets back into cooking mode.

He rescues the bread from the oven, using a nearby fork to transfer the bread from the baking sheet to a dish, depositing the sheet in the sink. Drains the water from the noodles and plops them into a Pyrex bowl he knows has a lid. He takes those two out to the table and sets them within reach of where he set the plates before returning to the kitchen to pour the sauce into another bowl, grabs some serving utensils and heads back to the table. He deposits the spoon into the sauce and the tongs into the noodles before pulling out the chair for Munson, heading around to his own seat.

“Did you… make this?” Munson asks, voice pitched a bit like he might be holding himself back from either laughing or having a mental breakdown. Steve's been there, he gets it.

“Hmm?” Steve hums as his brain starts to process what Munson said. Munson hasn’t sat yet, but he is approaching the table like it’s a startled animal that will bite him. Steve reaches across the table to drag the noodle bowl closer, removing the lid. “Oh, uh, yeah.”

“Like from scratch?” Munson has reached the table and is looking between the chair Steve pulled out for him and Steve himself. His face looks a little red.

“I guess?” Steve says as he drops a tongful of noodles onto the center of his plate. He then gestures at Munson’s plate with the tongs. “You hungry?”

Almost instantly Munson drops into his chair and pushes his plate closer. Steve drops a generous helping of noodles onto the plate, then ladles the spaghetti sauce on top, pushing Munson’s plate back to him before continuing to serve himself.

Munson eats like it might be his last meal ever. Or, more accurately, like it's the first one he’s ever eaten. He eats slowly, like he’s trying to memorize the taste of each bite. He closes his eyes when he takes a bite of the bread and Steve finds himself drawn to the look of bliss on his face.

When Munson’s eyes snap open suddenly, Steve doesn’t have the needed time to pretend he was looking at something else, so he decides to just be embarrassed about being caught, feeling his face heat in a blush but not looking away. If Munson is uncomfortable being stared at, he hides it well. “You made this?”

“You already asked that.”

“Yeah, but when you answered you sounded unsure so…”

Steve huffs a laugh, looking away and down to his own plate where he’s been twirling the same noodles around his fork for possibly the last five minutes. “Yes, I made this. Why are you so unsure of that? It’s spaghetti. Anyone can make spaghetti. There’s, like, two ingredients. Canned sauce and noodles.”

“I’ve never had anyone make me dinner before,” Munson almost whispers those words, but Steve hears them, head whipping up to look at Munson. His face is red, probably embarrassed by what he just said out loud. He doesn’t look at Steve, instead focusing his attention on the piece of garlic bread he’s shredding atop his plate for unknown reasons.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Steve remembers the mention of a Wayne, but he doesn’t know who that is. A person, clearly, since Max is going to ask him something if she sees him. So, Steve asks, “Wayne never made you dinner?”

Munson looks at Steve again, brows scrunched and with a slight frown on his face, like he can’t believe Steve knows who Wayne is. Which Steve doesn’t, but he realizes his question makes it seem like he knows a lot more about Munson than he truly does.

“Well, of course he’s made me dinner before but…” Munson trails off, eyes sliding away from Steve’s face to stare at a point behind him somewhere. “I guess it’s just been a while.”

“A while?” Steve isn’t trying to pry into Munson’s life, he’s just prone to asking most of the questions that come to his mind as soon as he thinks them.

“That’s just… how it goes, right? Growing up your family feeds you ‘cause you can’t do it yourself, but eventually you learn how to microwave a frozen dinner, right, and then they don’t have to worry about it. You can tell ‘em it’s one less thing they gotta worry about, feeding you, you know?” Munson says, then scoffs. “Or you don’t know. I dunno. Doesn’t matter. Wayne usually works doubles at the plant so he’s not home at dinnertime anyway. Besides, I meant like, someone not related to me hasn’t ever made me dinner, so thanks or whatever.”

Steve chooses to ignore the scoff and pointed words of ‘you don’t know’ and nods because he does know, actually, to an extent. When his parents were around his mom would make dinner. But the older he got, the less they were home. Steve had to learn to cook for himself. He took a cooking class in middle school just to learn the basics. Then, the more he learned, the less his mom cooked even if they were home. But Munson’s talking about his family, implying Wayne is family. One more thing on the list of Things Steve Knows About Eddie Munson.

It seems he’s been silent too long because Munson raises a questioning eyebrow at him. Steve doesn’t want to make assumptions or draw conclusions, so he avoids talking about family entirely and says, “Well, if you’re sick of frozen dinners then stick around. I’ll make you dinner every night. Breakfasts, too. You’re on your own at lunch time, though.”

“Why?”

Steve understands Munson’s baffled question. Why should Steve offer dinner to him, much less breakfast, too? They're strangers, still, and Steve’s not sure if Munson’s even accepted his truce. But Steve’s trying to be a better person than he was, and he’s got the means to help other people, so he’s going to. It also helps that Dustin cares an awful lot about Munson, and honestly? That alone would be enough for Steve to do anything in the world to make sure Eddie Munson ends up okay. He's not going to deny that the crush he's started to develop is playing a minor role in the offer, too. Saying all that out loud feels loaded, too heavy, so he decides to try a joke and says, “wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to not fix you breakfast the morning after, yeah?”

“Fuck,” Munson whispers, before meeting Steve’s eye. He heaves a sigh, like he’s lost a bet, but he’s amused by it and says, “yeah, Harrington, I’ll sleep with you.”

Steve almost chokes on his own spit. He shoots Munson a smile and then shoves the rest of his garlic bread into his mouth, so he doesn't have to verbally respond. The rest of dinner is silent.

Munson insists on helping clean up dinner. Steve tries to tell him that wasn’t necessary, since he is a guest in Steve’s house, but it seems unless Steve is going to physically restrain him, Munson is helping.

Being honest with himself, Steve really hoped Munson would just let him clean up alone. He needs a moment to collect himself. When Munson had just looked him in the eyes and said he’d sleep with him Steve’s brain had stopped functioning for a few seconds before he remembered that he’d offered to sleep in the rec room with him. He’s glad Munson’s taking him up on the offer, he’ll only be a few feet away if Munson starts to have a nightmare or something. However, he wants a moment or two to himself right now. When Munson said ‘yeah, Harrington, I’ll sleep with you’ his traitorous brain had supplied an entirely different meaning to that, making Steve hot under his shirt.

Not surprising to Steve, he's always had a thing for people who challenge him, that push back. Back in school he'd watched every single one of Munson's cafeteria rants, tracking his every movement with a carefully neutral expression on his own face. There hadn’t been attraction then, Steve found him kind of annoying, but he did admire him. Admired that Eddie wasn’t afraid to just be himself, or make his opinion on every little thing the entire cafeteria’s problem.

Or, maybe, he did have a little bit of a crush. Steve can’t really tell looking back. He likes Eddie now and that’s kind of scrambling his thoughts about the past.

“Where, uh, is the lid for this?” Munson asks, pulling Steve from his thoughts and reminding him of the situation. Munson, helping him clean up.

“The lid drawer is there, the one next to fridge,” Steve says. “There is no organization so, uh, good luck.”

Munson snorts and it sounds amused.

Under Steve’s instruction, Munson dumped the remaining noodles and sauce into a tupperware container and the bread into a Ziploc. Steve gathers the dirty dishes and washes them. This is done in silence mostly.

When Steve’s finished the last dish and set it to the side to dry, Munson has long finished his task and is leaning against the far counters. His arms are crossed and he’s looking down at the floor so all Steve can see when he tries to look at his face is hair.

“So,” Steve starts.

Munson doesn’t lift his head, but he echoes, “so.”

“To bed, then?”

Munson nods.

#gut instinct #my fic #steddie #steddiebang24

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brbsoulnomming · 1 year ago

Text

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 25

-----

The silence that echoes through Forest Hills is deafening. It's never been this quiet, not in the whole time that Eddie'd lived here, and if that doesn't drive home how alone they are out here, nothing will.

For a long moment, the only thing he can hear is the sound of his own heart beating.

"Put all that stuff on the ground," Jason orders. "Slowly."

It's not like Eddie's in a position to argue with the guy pointing a gun at them. And yet -

"Don't you read the news?" he bitches as he slowly crouches down to put his boxes on the ground. "I was cleared of all charges."

Jason scoffs. "You may have the police and the news fooled, but you can't trick me. I know what you did to Chrissy and Patrick. I know it was you, I saw you at the lake."

"Whatever you thought you saw-" Eddie starts.

"Don't!" Jason shouts. "You think I haven't already heard it? My own family and friends telling me I'm crazy, that I'm just grieving? I know what I saw, you freak!"

"Hey, hey," Steve says. "No one's saying you didn't see anything, okay, just that it wasn't what it looked like."

Eddie can hear the crunch of gravel again, and he risks darting his eyes away from Jason towards Steve. There's a flash of hurt when he sees that Steve is moving away from Eddie's side - until he sees that Steve may have put his box down, but he's still holding his bat.

It's not over his shoulder anymore. Now it's held like a weapon, and he twirls it like a fucking maniac who's just screaming to draw attention from the guy pointing a gun at them.

Eddie's hindbrain notes that it's extremely attractive, just like it did when he saw Steve ripping a demobat in two, and he firmly tells it to shut the fuck up.

Jason shifts the gun so it's pointed entirely at Steve, instead of just hovering between the two of them, and even in the light of the sunset Eddie can see the hint of satisfaction in Steve's eyes, and -

Of fucking course his stupid soulmate is trying to make himself a bigger target to Jason.

Fuck that.

Eddie opens his mouth to try to get Jason's attention back, but Steve beats him to it.

"I don't want to fight you, Jason, even if you didn't have a gun," Steve says.

The prickle of a lie springs up on the back of Eddie's calf, and he briefly wonders what the hell Steve's doing before it hits him - Robin.

This could work, all they have to do is stall long enough for Robin to get help sent over here.

"This isn't about what anyone wants," Jason snaps. "This is about justice for Chrissy and Patrick, I'm just the only one willing to step up and do anything about it."

Steve snorts, spreading his arms and swinging the bat in a low motion. "Look around, man. You're sitting in Forest Hills, after it got wrecked, with a gun pointed at me. That's what you're calling justice?"

"You can still leave, Harrington," Jason says. "I don't have any beef with you. You're one of us, you know? You were one of the greats. You can leave right now, and it won't matter that this freak got you under his spell."

Steve's grip on the bat tightens. "I'm not going anywhere, Carver. You think you can shoot me enough times to bring me down before I get close enough to use this?"

Jason's determined expression falters, the gun lowering just the tiniest bit, and for a moment Eddie thinks they might have him.

Then the gun swings around and points straight at Eddie, and the look in Jason's eyes goes dark with hate.

"No," Jason says. "But I can shoot him before you get to me. You don't want that, do you Harrington?"

Fuck.

"Come on, man, I-" Eddie starts, then immediately clamps his mouth shut when he sees Jason's finger slide over the trigger.

"One more word from either of you and I shoot you right here," Jason says.

Eddie can't see anything but the barrel of Jason's gun right now, so he has no idea what Steve's doing, but he's just as silent as Eddie.

"Here's what we're going to do." Jason pulls something out of his pocket, tosses it at Steve. It hits the gravel with a faintly metallic clink. "You're going to toss that bat away. Then you're going to put those on, handcuff yourself to the railing right there. The Freak and I are going to take a little walk, and you're going to tell me everything you did to them. If the police won't make you confess, I will."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

"No, man, come on, leave Steve out of this, I'll go with you, just don't-"

"You want to die right now, Munson?" Jason asks. "I told you to shut up."

"All right, Jason, all right," Steve says. "I'll do it, okay? I'm going to toss the bat away."

Eddie risks a look over at Steve, sees him toss the bat aside somewhere and slowly pick up the handcuffs Jason threw at him.

"It's okay, Eddie," Steve says when he catches him looking. "It's going to be okay."

It isn't a lie, but at the moment, Eddie's not entirely sure how the fuck anything about this is going to be okay.

Steve cinches one cuff around his wrist, then takes a few steps back towards the trailer. He has to twist at a little bit of an awkward angle, but he manages to hook the chain of the handcuffs through one of the slightly warped rails of the front porch. Then he snaps the other cuff shut over his other wrist.

"Let's go, Munson," Jason says.

Eddie looks back over to him, and Jason makes a motion out towards the woods.

Jesus Christ, the woods again.

Eddie swallows, trying to tell himself that one pissed off jock with a gun is a lot better odds than a dozen of them, or a swarm of demobats, but with said gun pointed right at him he's not sure how convinced he is of that.

"Hey, Munson?" Steve calls.

Eddie doesn't look at him, but he hears Jason's footsteps slow a little, like he's waiting to see what parting words Steve has to say.

"I'm not going to be able to get out of this," Steve says. His voice sounds genuine, like he's admitting to something he doesn't want to, but Eddie feels the prickle of words being written on the side of his knee. "I can't come after you."

More words, along the back of his shoulder.

"Just do what he says, okay?" Steve asks.

No words this time, but Eddie gets the message loud and clear. He's not sure how Steve's decided he can get himself out of the handcuffs, and he wants to tell him not to hurt himself, but Jason's footsteps have picked up again.

"You heard him," Jason says, triumphant and vicious. "Get moving."

Eddie does, and even though there's still a pit of dread at the bottom of his stomach, and his heart is racing, and his hands are clammy with fear - there's still hope there.

He's not an NPC anymore.

He has Steve, and he has Robin, and he knows there's people on his side coming for him. He's part of the party now, and he realizes that not only does he trust them completely - but he believes without a doubt that they won't leave him behind.

Eddie's not going to die, not today.

All he has to do is stall Jason long enough for them to come find him.

"Do I get an idea about where we're going?" Eddie asks.

"Lover's Lake," Jason replies.

"Didn't know you had that kind of outing planned for us." The words are out of Eddie's mouth before he's even finished thinking them.

He regrets them immediately, even before he gets a hard push between his shoulder blades.

Eddie stumbles, his footing slipping over the slick forest floor, and he barely manages to avoid ending up on the ground. There's a flare of pain in his side from the quick, jerking motions he'd had to do, and his left leg twinges a little, but nothing too bad.

Still, it's a reminder that he needs to be careful.

"You shut your disgusting mouth," Jason spits at him. "We're going to the last site where you cast your Satanic spell. You're going to tell me everything you did, and then you're going to undo the curse you put on Hawkins."

Jesus Christ, Jason's completely lost it.

He guesses it's not surprising, considering what Jason saw with Patrick, but any amount of empathy Eddie might have had for the guy was completely gone the moment Jason pulled a gun on them and made Steve handcuff himself to that railing.

Eddie saw terrible things, too, and somehow he managed not to start waving guns around and threatening to kill people.

He remembers what Steve said, about experiencing something like this making you see yourself in a different light, finding things out about yourself that you might not like. Despite what Steve'd told him, he's still struggling with how instinctive it was for him to run and how much of a coward it makes him feel like, but you know what? He'd rather be a coward than end up like Jason.

If he wasn't concerned Jason might actually shoot him for saying something again, he might point out the irony of it all - that the scary Freak saw Vecna's attack and went into hiding, while the golden boy went on a murderous warpath.

Instead, he focuses on trying to move as slowly as possible, dragging his feet through the dirt and leaves and kicking up rocks and pinecones.

For one - he doesn't actually want to get to Lover's Lake. Sure, the trek there is long enough that it'd give Steve plenty of time to get loose and Robin time to bring in the calvary, but then they'd all have to get out to the lake, too, and that's way too far for Eddie's comfort. For another - he needs to leave some kind of trail for Steve to be able to follow.

It pisses Jason off eventually, because the next thing he knows he's getting another hard shove against his back.

"Pick your feet up," Jason snarls.

Eddie hadn't been expecting this push, though, and this time he's not quick enough to keep himself standing upright. He stumbles, twists a little to avoid falling face first, and ends up on his ass in the leaves and dirt.

The pain in his side flares again, and fuck, he's going to be so pissed if he reopened one of his bite wounds just after he got the stitches out.

"Get up," Jason orders.

"Give me a minute, come on," Eddie says. "I'm not used to this."

Jason snorts in disbelief. "Should've thought of that before you picked this place to do all your Satanic rituals."

Eddie groans, pushing himself up into a crouch. He looks up - and realizes Jason's gotten cocky. The gun isn't pointed directly at him anymore, it's just held loosely in Jason's hand, pointed more at the ground than anything else.

His heart rate picks up as Eddie decides - fuck, okay, yeah, he's doing this.

He hangs his head down, making his breathing harsh and ragged like he's panting for air, and hears Jason give a mean little laugh.

"Sorry you skipped out on so much P.E. now, aren't you, Freak?" Jason taunts.

Eddie's hands dig into the ground under him, picking up a double handful of dirt and pine needles.

Then he surges up, throwing it all in Jason's face.

"Fuck!" Jason shouts, dropping the gun as he instinctively throws his hands up to try to protect his face.

Eddie doubts he has time to bend down and scramble for it, so he kicks it instead, sending it skittering away before he books it to hide behind a grove of trees.

"Get back out here, you freak!" Jason shouts. "You think I can't take you even without a gun?"

Part of Eddie wants to retort that Jason's ability to take him even without a gun is a) kind of in question, considering Eddie's both stronger than he looks and pretty fucking scrappy, when he isn't recovering from nearly dying; and b) exactly why he won't be coming back out, but, well.

Eddie's smart enough to know that saying anything will just draw attention to where he is, so for once, he shuts the hell up.

"Don't think you can get away from me," Jason says. "I won't stop until you've been brought to real justice. You killed Chrissy! She was beautiful, and perfect, and she should be alive right now, not you!"

Eddie bites the inside of his mouth, hard enough that he tastes copper, to avoid making any kind of sound. Part of him still thinks that's true, but he won't give Jason the satisfaction of admitting it to him.

"She was my soulmate!" Jason yells. "She never once told a lie, and neither did I! Neither of us had any words on our skin, we were perfect together, and you took her from me!"

All right, maybe Jason was a little delusional even before all of this.

"You took her from me, and I won't let you-"

Jason cuts off with a choked sounding noise. It's enough like the sounds Chrissy and Patrick had made choking on their own blood that Eddie feels a surge of panic, and he risks peeking out from his hiding spot to see if he's just gotten even more fucked.

But Jason isn't floating above the ground.

Or at least, not more than an inch or so, as his feet scrabble on the slippery pine needles.

Steve is right behind him, and the metal chain of the handcuffs still around Steve's wrists is pressed tight to Jason's neck. Steve's got him pinned back against him, using the few inches of height he's got on Jason to prevent him from getting his feet solidly on the ground.

"Next time you tell someone to handcuff themselves to something," Steve says conversationally. "You should make sure they can't rip it free."

Jesus fucking Christ, Steve needs to stop doing things like this, or Eddie's not going to survive it.

Metaphorically.

Literally, he's very grateful for Steve continuing to do things like this to ensure Eddie's continued survival.

"You okay, Eddie?" Steve calls.

"Yeah," Eddie replies, finally coming out from his hiding spot. "I'm, uh, a little banged up, but otherwise good."

Seeing him seems to spur Jason on, though, because instead of scrambling at the chain around his neck, he tries to knock his head back into Steve's.

Steve seems ready for that, because he's got his body angled so Jason's head falls back against his shoulder. Still, the motion sets both of them rocking back, and though Steve keeps his balance, Eddie hurries over to help.

He's almost there when Jason balls up his fist and slams it back into Steve's face. Steve doesn't let go, so he does it again, and again, and again, and by the time Eddie's there, the last hit must have been enough for Steve's grip to loosen.

Jason slips from Steve's grasp, pushing both of them as he scrambles away. He's choking and sputtering, stumbling over himself, and he makes it only a few paces away before he's on his hands and knees on the ground, sucking in ragged gasps of air.

"You can't take both of us, Jason," Steve says.

Jason scrambles back more, then manages to get himself to his feet.

It's only when Eddie sees the gun again that he realizes Jason wasn't trying to scramble away from them, he was trying to scramble to something.

Shit.

"I'll go with you," Eddie says. "Same plan, okay? You want me to go to Lover's Lake, tell you everything and undo the curse? Just leave Steve out of this."

Steve glares at him, but Eddie doesn't care. Jason looks even more unstable than before, and Eddie's not letting Steve get shot because of him.

Jason shakes his head. Eddie's not sure if it's in response to him, or if he's just trying to clear it after getting choked, but he guesses it doesn't really matter.

Jason's got the gun pointed right at him, and doesn't seem to be inclined to start moving again.

"You said you wanted justice, but that's not really what this is about, is it? It's revenge. You're in pain, and you want Eddie to suffer, too," Steve says.

"What's wrong with that?" Jason demands. His voice sounds absolutely wrecked, like every word is hurting as it's pulled from his throat, and yet he keeps talking anyway. "He deserves it! He deserves to be punished for what he did to Chrissy and Patrick, for what he's done to me!"

"This isn't how you punish him," Steve says. "You think he's in league with Satan, right? So you kill him, and then what happens?"

"He goes to Hell!" Jason shouts. "He goes to Hell where someone like him belongs, where-"

Jason cuts off, and Steve smiles.

"Yeah," he says. "He goes to Hell where he belongs. What kind of nice welcome you think someone in league with Satan's gonna get? Maybe a throne, maybe a new army to command?"

"Maybe I'll get to be a duke," Eddie adds. "A Lord of Hell, that sounds pretty damn good."

"Shut up!" Jason hisses at him.

Still, he falters, and Eddie can practically see the cogs working behind his brain. "It's worth the risk," Jason says, but he doesn't sound as sure as before. "I can't just let him stay here and do it again. He won't confess, the police won't do anything, so this is the only option."

The gun is still pointed right at Eddie, and he contemplates the merits of moving to hide behind a tree again. Jason's barely standing, he's pretty sure the guy's aim is going to be shit right now.

He's pretty confident both he and Steve can get under cover quicker than Jason can shoot.

"You can teach him a real lesson. He took your soulmate from you, you take his from him," Steve says.

Jesus Christ, Eddie's going to kill him.

Jason laughs, harsh and mean. "A freak like this doesn't have a soulmate."

"Steve, don't you fucking dare," Eddie says, too terrified by what he knows Steve is doing to worry about keeping his mouth shut like Jason demanded.

"Yeah, he does," Steve says, completely ignoring Eddie.

The fucker.

Steve taps his chest with his still cuffed together hands. "You're looking at him."

Jason turns his focus entirely on Steve, and Steve gives a significant look to Eddie.

Eddie knows exactly what he wants. He wants Eddie to make a break for it while Steve has Jason's attention. Eddie assumes that Steve's noticed Jason's physical state the same as Eddie has, and drawn the same damn conclusion - only he wanted to make sure that Jason's gun was pointed at him before they both ran for it.

Never mind that Eddie'd just had the same plan when the gun was on him. He's not willing to risk it when it's pointed at Steve, and fuck, when they get out of this, that's probably something they're going to have to talk about.

Right now, he stubbornly stays right where he is.

"You? No way," Jason says.

"Why do you think Eddie kept asking you to leave me alone? You think he'd give himself up for someone if he wasn't soul bonded to them?" Steve asks.

"Don't listen to him," Eddie says. "I'm the one you want."

"He's not denying it, is he?" Steve says. "Because he knows if he does, I can show you the lie and prove it."

Fuck.

"Come on, Carver," Steve goads. "You said he took your soulmate from you. Don't you want to make him feel the same pain? I'm right here, all you gotta do is come get me."

No, nope, this isn't happening.

"Steve, stop, please," Eddie begs.

Shockingly - it works. Steve looks at him, and whatever he sees in Eddie's eyes must make him realize exactly how much Eddie does not want 'Steve throws himself in front of danger and takes the hits so no one else has to' to be Plan A here.

Jason's head keeps snapping back and forth between the two of them, but this time Steve stays quiet, not trying to get Jason's attention on him.

Instead, Steve tilts his head at him, and Eddie nods.

Run.

They both book it, in opposite directions, and sure enough, Jason must be too scrambled to act quickly enough to shoot either of them. For several long, terrifying moments, Eddie expects to hear the sound of gunshots, but all he hears is Jason's labored breathing and the sound of him stumbling a little as if trying to chase after one of them.

Eddie has no idea how much time passes as he stays hidden, listening to the those halting footsteps come closer, then veer away, then come close again. Jason's silent this time - either realizing that nothing he says is going to get them to come out, or in too much pain to keep talking.

Then, finally, there's the thundering sound of more footsteps approaching.

Before all of this, Eddie's first thought probably would have been oh fuck, Jason's buddies are here.

Now?

Now he has a soulmate - two soulmates, really - and a whole Party that he knows will always have his back.

Now he feels a giddy rush of relief even before he hears Hopper shouting, "Jason Carver, put your gun down," and Chief Powell echoing, "On your knees, now!"

They're okay, they're going to be okay.

Reaching the end now! I think I'm looking at one more part and potentially an epilogue.

-----

Part 26

Tag list (always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie soulmate au #jason carver

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lesbojournals · 8 months ago

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Drunken Crafts (Stucky x Reader)

It was a painfully average day in your house, Steve and Bucky off at Avengers headquarters doing god knows what while you lounged around. You had already cleaned the whole house to entertain yourself: the vacuuming was done, the bathrooms were spotless, all of the laundry and dishes were clean and put away. You had even started dinner, cooking a beef stew with vegetables in the pressure cooker.

What else, truly, was there to do?

You felt like Rapunzel in the beginning of Tangled–you had already read a book this morning, you took a shower, you even clipped the cat’s claws!

You pattered around the house, convinced nothing would entertain you at this point, until your eyes landed on Bucky’s bottle of Tennessee Whiskey.

You glanced back and forth, almost nervous to be caught sauntering over to the bottle. You shyly took it and brought it over to the kitchen, where you mixed it with some sweet tea you had made earlier.

You took a sip and sighed happily, bringing both the bottle and the tea to the living room where you planned on watching some youtube.

As the drink became more empty, new ideas sprung into your head. You decided to get out all of your crafting tools, deciding on making both Bucky and Steve a masterpiece. After another drink or two, you couldn't remember, you abandoned the crafts and decided hey, what better time than now to bake some cookies? It'd be a fun dessert after having your stew.

With that, you skipped off to the kitchen, drink in hand, to bake. At one point you decided to take off your pants, after all, they weren't your sweats and you didn't want to dirty them. The same thought did not occur about the XXL Avengers logo tee you had on.

You turned on your favorite happy music, bouncing around eating raw cookie dough from the wooden mixing spoon.

The music was so loud that you didn't hear Bucky and Steve enter. You were too distracted making cookies that you forgot you not only had music on, but youtube as well, and a mess of crafts in the living room.

Steve confusingly walked up the stairs as Bucky took off his shoes, unsure of why there was so much loud noise throughout the house.

“Beautiful?” He called, and his eyes softened immediately at the sight of you.

He stopped in his footsteps, leading Bucky to catch up and hastily go “Is everything okay, Stevie?”

Steve pointed at you, dancing obnoxiously with cookie batter in your hands, and Bucky sighed in adoration, before noticing that you had no pants on.

He practically bolted up the rest of the stairs, and you caught his eye as he fully entered the kitchen with a “Buck!!”

“What're you doing honey?” He asked, looking around the floor of the apartment to see your mess.

“Baking cookies!!” You happily answered, swaying back and forth with a giggle.

Before Bucky could comment Steve brought his attention. “Looks like someone got to your liquid gold, honey.” He held up the now empty whiskey bottle.

Bucky stared at the bottle with wide eyes, then turned back to you.

“Is something wrong?” You laughed, throwing your cookies in the oven (quite literally-you didn't realize how aggressive you were being).

Bucky smiled along with Steve, and grabbed you from behind. “Nothing, we just love you.”

“I love you both too!!” You said with a hiccup, then you remembered. “Oh wait !! I have a gift for you two!!”

You ran off to the living room, while Steve turned off the very loud music. They both followed you in, eyes nearly bulging out of their heads at the mess you made.

You didn't notice their look, instead holding up a large piece of card stock full of collage, stickers, and drawings. It said “DrAwINg fOr My SoULmaTeS” in letters from various magazines.

It was frankly a mess and didn't make any sense, but Steve took it in his hands anyway. Him and Bucky were silent.

You started tearing up. “You hate it!!”

Bucky rushed to your side, cooing. “No, no, darling. It's beautiful.”

“This is fridge worthy.” Steve announced, and you smiled giddily.

With a loud ding! your attention was immediately averted, deciding to shout (in Bucky’s ear none the less) “MY STEW!!”

You tried to run to the kitchen but Bucky caught you. “Why don't you let Stevie and I worry about dinner. You relax.”

You pouted, not thrilled with this decision that both of your boys seemed set on.

By the time they came back to you with a dinner plate in hand you were passed out on the couch, drooling all over the couch pillow. Bucky put your plate in the fridge and Steve picked you up, cautiously bringing you to the bedroom.

You blabbered on about something in your drunken sleep haze, repeatedly telling Steve “I love you, I love Bucky, You guys are my favorite.” and so on.

“I know darling,” Steve smiled. “We love you too.”

How did you get so lucky?

#stucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #captain america #marvel #the winter soldier

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apomaro-mellow · 5 months ago

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Hot for Teacher(s) 11

Part 10

The smell of a pup was usually a fresh, neutral scent on their own until they officially presented and it ripened with the unique scent of adolescence. It was why scenting one’s child was important. A way to mark them as your own for the whole world to know. And it was typical of parents to do this before seeing their child off somewhere, particularly school.

Shawn never really noticed before now how sometimes his classmates would smell just a little different, depending on who scented them. He wasn’t the only one with one parent but Daniel got to see his mom on weekends, and Elodie still talked to her dad. Shawn was the only one with a single parent with no contact with his other. And he wasn’t complaining. But now that he noticed, he wondered if other people noticed his single note of a scent.

No one had ever made him feel bad about it but maybe they were just being nice about his situation…

Eddie greeted his students in the morning, usually with a high five or a fist bump. “Warm up’s on your desks, make sure you have a sharpened pencil.”

Elodie got to her desk before unpacking and looked at the worksheet. “Do we get to color?”

“What do the directions say?”, Eddie asked, encouraging her to read.

“‘Color…your fa…vorite food’. Yay!”

Eddie told her good job before seeing to the other students and making sure unpacking by the cubbies went without any drama. It all seemed to be going well, so he turned his back. Of course, that was when he heard shoving and the beginnings of a wailing cry.

Shawn was at his desk while Mr. Munson tried to soothe Yasmin. She bumped her head against his leg like she was much younger than six, a move that would normally get an adult to scent her and assure her she wasn’t in trouble. Mr. Munson just gave her a pat on the head and reminded her that the cubbies had names and she couldn’t just put her things wherever she wanted, but also Daniel shouldn’t toss other’s belongings onto the floor.

Mr. Munson was really nice like that, giving head pats, and high fives, but he never scented any of the students. That would be weird. But would he scent Shawn? Where did they stand, now that he was dating his dad?

After school, Steve came and he rubbed Shawn’s cheeks. “You’re like my cute mochi thing. What do they call it? The white thing?”

“Cinnamoroll?”, Eddie and Shawn said in unison.

“No, the other thing. The rabbit.”

“That’s Cinnamoroll, Dad. Now please release my cheeks”, Shawn said.

That just made Steve squish them together more. “No, there’s something else. And I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be a dog anyway.” He let Shawn’s face go and looked up at Eddie. “We still on for tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world”, Eddie promised.

Shawn waited until they were in the car before asking. “What’s tonight?”

Steve smiled. “He’s coming over for dinner.”

“What’re we having?”, Shawn asked, trying to look nonchalant as he played with his seatbelt.

“I was thinking cockroach legs and frog’s eyes”, Steve said, snickering at the look of disgust that he caught in the mirror. “Well what would you serve then?”

“Make your own tacos. I saw you taking out ground beef earlier.”

“You know what, that could work”, Steve agreed. Nevermind that Shawn also would’ve seen the different vegetables on the counter, as well as various sauces which could only be used for tacos. Christopher Nolan, eat your heart out.

Eddie would be spending the evening with them as it was decided that he should do so without it being a date. He and Steve knew they worked well together, now it was time to add Shawn to the mix. He would only be his teacher for a few more months after all. And then in a few years, he would probably be Steve’s. So keeping them apart for that reason was about to be null and void.

Steve had Shawn finish his homework at the table while he started cooking. Eddie arrived about half an hour later, knocking at the door. Steve sent Shawn to get it only because he was washing his hands from touching raw meat and he recognized the roar of Eddie’s van by now.

“Well, if it isn’t the man of the house”, Eddie smiled when Shawn opened the door.

“Are you here to sell cookies?”, Shawn teased.

“Hmm, no cookies, only pie”, he said, bringing one from behind his back.

Shawn shrugged. “That’ll work.”

He let Eddie in and they joined his dad in the kitchen. Eddie greeted Steve with a kiss, who smiled when he saw the dessert Eddie brought.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t. Safeway did.”

Dinner was a fun affair. Probably the only low point for Shawn was when the two of them randomly broke out into a song that he didn’t know and even danced along to it. Did they not see how embarrassing they were? The tacos were good though. Shawn liked to put a ton of cheese on his.

“Hey, you got something there”, Eddie said in the middle of eating.

“Where?”, Steve asked, trying to look at his own face.

Eddie put a swipe of sour cream on his nose. “There.”

Shawn laughed enough to shake his own taco (#3) and make half the ingredients spill out onto his plate. After eating, Shawn helped by bringing the dirty dishes to the sink and helping Steve wrap up the leftovers while Eddie got to washing. Shawn got to take his slice of pie to the living room so long as he ate at the coffee table, leaving the two adults alone.

They were shoulder to shoulder as they washed and dried. At one point, Steve put his head on Eddie’s shoulder and they paused for a moment, soaking it all in. It was only one night but this one night boded well for their future. Once the dishes were done, they joined Shawn, who had taken up the middle of the couch. Without a word, they sat on either side of him. Shawn had it on a kids’ sitcom, but honestly it didn’t matter what they were watching.

Steve and Eddie’s arms were across the back of the couch so that they could touch, leaving Eddie’s side open for Shawn to lean into. Shawn let out a yawn, full and tired. Then he bumped his forehead against Eddie’s chest. His eyes bugged out, looking at Steve for a sign, approval, something. He didn’t want to spook Shawn by using his voice though. Steve’s eyes were glistening a little as he nodded.

Slowly, Eddie brought his arm down and rubbed his wrist against Shawn’s hair and cheeks. Steve could just barely hear the coo of contentment. When they were sure he was asleep, Eddie gathered Shawn in his arms and carried him to his room, Steve leading the way.

“Wait for me in my room”, Steve whispered so that he could give Shawn a bit of privacy while dressing him down in his pjs.

Eddie waited faithfully, sitting on the edge of the bed when Steve finally came in. They spent the night sharing slow kisses, building each other up while using just their hands to finish the job. It was still a school night, after all.

From then on, Eddie took some time to scent Shawn while he was fully awake, sometimes even at school. The other students didn’t think much of it but the week after just happened to be the school-wide spelling bee. A few parents were in attendance. Steve couldn’t make it, as it was the middle of the day, but Eddie promised him pictures.

Shawn took first place, almost stumbling on the word ‘lightning’ but pushing through. The awards were given and parents congratulated their kids, getting pictures as well. Eddie kept himself available, only about half of his students’ parents showed up. Shawn showed his trophy to a friend who was standing by their dad.

He knelt down by Shawn. “You want me to get some pics for your dad, kiddo?”

“Mr. Munson’s gonna text my dad, right?”, Shawn beamed.

“That I will”, Eddie promised.

It was such a benign interaction that Eddie didn’t think a thing of it. But in that moment, the other parent caught a whiff of Shawn, who smelled too similar to Mr. Munson. And texting a parent? On its own, not strange but he’d been careful not to give out his personal number to anyone. He communicated mostly through emails. Sometimes a flyer in the kids’ folders. It was all just adding up to something fishy in his opinion…

He voiced as much to his wife when he got home and she just didn’t see it.

“Are you trying to say Shawn’s dad slept with the teacher so he could win the spelling bee?”

“I mean I’m not saying that exactly, but it seems kind of rigged, doesn’t it?”

She called their daughter down from her room. “Is your friend Shawn a good speller?”

“Yeah, he can even spell some second grade words. They ran out of first grade words to give him.”

“Well, your daddy didn’t mention that.”

“I just think we shouldn’t rule it out.” A lot of the parents knew each other, at least in passing. So it was no secret that Steve was single. Of course, most would never suspect he was dating his son’s teacher but considering the scent he was carrying…

As this was brewing on Eddie's side, from Steve's past a familiar face approached closer and closer.

Part 12

Fun fact: that actually happened at my school's spelling bee. Two of my first graders spelled so well, they had to move on to second grade words. Don't praise me though, they came to me that smort.

Taglist

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

@hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

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somewhereincairparavel · 9 months ago

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okay. So I've finished book 1 of keeper of the lost cities for the first time. And I'm loving this keefe dude already?? Like I never thought I'd like a fictional character so quickly. All it took was like one page for me to fall for him, I am aware that keefe is one of the most loved characters in the fandom, and I can see why (correct me if I'm wrong).

Also the book is a solid 9.5/10, the only thing I was frustrated about was probably the slight info dumping about the whole blackswan thing towards the end? because it took me like 3 reads to understand the whole situation, of course, we could just narrow it down to me being slow too, lol. But I'm VERY excited to continue reading the rest. So while we're at it, I'll put in my first impressions of the characters, so I can look back on it after I've read all the books, to see how much my perception has changed of them.

Sophie- i like her, she's really mature for her age, I keep forgetting that she's like 12 lmao. But she's well written, her emotions seem very raw and natural. Of course, she may seem overpowered but, I think that's the whole point of the story, she is supposed to be overpowered, so I don't mind and i wouldn't call her a Mary sue. Overall great protagonist, my girlie deserves a break tho, she got dumped in the hospital atleast 6 times lol.

Fitz- i actually think he's cool. I liked him better in the beginning of the story tho, I feel like afterwards, the dude kinda just disappeared a little? Keefe and Sophie seemed to have more private interaction than those two, and keefe literally only came by in the middle. But yeah, I feel like he had more of a personality in the start. Keefe and Dex, in my opinion had more personality in 5 minutes than fitz did the whole book, but I wouldn't judge so quickly, it's only the first book after all, Hopefully he'd have more page time in the later books. I still like him tho, just not as much as keefe.

Dex- Yeah he is such a typical best friend, I love him. His beef w the vackers is so funny lol I was relieved when Sophie stuck with him even after she became popular tho, also, he seems to have a crush on sophie right? It's kinda obvious, but overall friendship goals 10/10. I vocally "AWW-ed" after he said "are you kidding, i can't wait to tell everyone that you're my first friend" like I need a guy bestie like him :(

Alden- honestly, my heart warmed so much with his father-like dynamic with sophie tbh. He seemed to genuinely care about her well being, but I don't want to get too attached to him tho, just in case becomes a traitor or some shit later on, you can literally never tell with the adults lol. I've read enough books to back that up. But yeah, i really like him and della, the amount of reassuring hugs he gives sophie really heals me :(, They're like sophies 2nd (well, in her case, 3rd) parents. The amount of effort and lengths Alden put to get her out of trouble is actually sweet.

Elwin- This guy is such a W. He is like an adult keefe tbh. He is probably my favorite adult so far lol.

Cassius- I'm sorry, but Mr jerk face over here reminds me SO much of Lucius Malfoy??? Like ?? I feel so bad for Keefe, like poor baby leave him alone smh. I really wanna deck his royal highness in the face tbh.

Biana- absolutely loathed her in the beginning, she gave off such bad snob vibes lol but I love her now. I like the trope of two people forced to be friends w eachother by someone actually end up becoming friends. It's rather uncommon as far as I've read, atleast.

Grady and Edaline- is it bad that i thought they were going to be evil? Yeah I have so much trust issues, it's concerning. But yeah, they're both big W's, their backstory, their temporary contemplation to reject sophies adoption, everything aligned well with their backstory. Greatly written characters.

And last but not least, the king himself, Keefe- okay, he's like added to my list of fictional crushes now lol (along with Percy Jackson, Jason grace, Steve Harrington, chat noir, Eugene fitzherbert, edmund pevensie and Ravi singh ofc). How does sophie not have a fat crush on him, like- ma'am if you don't want him, I'll take him. But jokes aside, he feels like the most authentic character out of them all, tbh. Epitome of great writing. He was inserted to the story as this random dude that sophie runs into, and becomes an og in like 5 minutes. He is like a mix of Eugene from tangled, Kristoff from Frozen and chat noir from mlb all at the same time?? I cannot wait to see more of him and his backstory, especially with his parents. I know alot of people dislike the humorous guy with depression trope since it's overused, but I like how it played out on keefe, he uses school as an escape, which is very relatable.

Also, bonus, i LOVE the world building, the light leaping and all, very creative. I cannot wait to get my hands on book 2

#kotlc #kotlc fandom #sophie foster #keeper of the lost cities #biana vacker #kotlc keefe #keefe sencen #fitz vacker #alden vacker #della vacker #kotlc elwin #kotlc sophie #dex dizznee

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bromcommie · 30 days ago

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man the whole setup of friction between Steve as the weary soldier but also the idealist and Fury as the personification of the modern American intelligence/defense apparatus is great. Like I can't even give any funny-haha commentary on it it's literally just. Good. The dialogue is for the most part well written, the actors play the tension off of each other well, we get a very quick but very efficient look into Fury's mindset (I fucking love the "Grandad loved people, but he didn't trust them very much" story on so many levels when it comes to Fury's character, but I won't get into that now), the context feels real enough and the stakes high enough to catch your interest and get you thinking about the real world implications, even within a MCU "everything is very vague very purposefully" framework. And narratively speaking some of the little moments they drop in there that you wouldn't really pay attention to watching for the first time (in the case of this scene specifically the AI in the elevator pointing out Steve doesn't have clearance for Insight and Fury's "director override" foreshadowing, but also thinking back on that Steve-Rumlow interaction) are nice hints that retrospectively beef up the big reveal about Hydra.

Another moment I find personally interesting is Fury referring to just how bloody and morally devastating WWII was for the Allies as well, if for no other reason than it giving Steve a chance to show his own justification logic. And while on the surface it does seem comparatively more black and white (which is how many people—including, ironically, the writers of this movie lol—frame the '40s in general; as if the people and politics of the time are so vastly removed from those today, but that's a whole 'nother topic altogether) it still makes me wonder just how much of that certainty would, in this moment, be coming from a defensive place because him and Fury are essentially having a hostile conversation, and how much of it is how Steve actually justifies the weight of it all to himself.

#the sequel rewatch is just gonna be me gushing about and going way too deep into this movie I fear #had to pause the movie for a bit to type this one out but it just wouldn't get out of my head. anyway many thoughts not all of them coheren #max's miserable marvel rewatch #max.txt

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ladykailitha · 2 years ago

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Can Anybody See Me? Part 8

Now we’re getting to the reason behind the title.

On the tagging, I HAVE REACHED MY HARD AND FAST LIMIT OF 50. I love the response this story has gotten. I do. I love you all. I love every reply, like, and reblog. It brings me so much joy, you don’t even know. But tagging is hard for my ADHD brain. I have gone up from 20 to 30 and finally 50 as my system improved but I think if I do any more than that I’ll go insane. So any future tagging requests will be ignored. Sorry.

The best way to keep update on these stories is follow me and set me on notifications. I rarely do a lot of reblogging these days (too busy churning out stories like whoa), so more often then not a post will be a story. I try to post at least once a day (some times twice if I’m trying to rush through the posting a bit like I did to make sure the Valentine fic got out in time without making people wait on Vamp!Eddie), just never at set time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

When Eddie heard how Gethin had done it, he was starting wonder who the smart twin was, because it was brilliant.

The chemicals for developing film were kept in Miss Chen’s room and he took some quick pictures of Steve’s piece before promptly spilling some of the chemicals that the teacher had in her class room all over it.

It ATE the paper. Gethin had tried to mop it up before it got too bad. But alas, it was too late.

“Mr Hughes!” Miss Chen protested. “Please be more careful next time!”

Gethin apologize profusely. He begged her to give the poor student whose piece he had just destroyed an extra week to finish the project, because he had been soooo careless.

She agreed.

He ran out of her class with the chemicals he needed to develop the film in his camera.

Pictures he slipped into Eddie’s locker during lunch.

After school Eddie waited until the halls were empty before he opened his locker. He knelt down to pick them up and blinked. Steve was really good. The composition was sound and colors were great.

The page wasn’t even that scary. It was just of this boy walking up to a house in the dead of night. In one of the panels you could almost make out something watching the boy, but it was the vague sense of unease made it so you could tell it was going be a horror comic. It was good. And suddenly Eddie was pissed at Miss Chen for calling Steve out for this.

Especially since Eddie’s own comic was about slaying a dragon.

He shoved the pictures back into his backpack and slammed the locker shut.

“Well what have we got here?” a voice said from behind him.

Shit.

Eddie turned around slowly. There was Tommy H, Billy, and Kyle, standing there with their arms crossed.

“Hey, boys,” he said with a grin. “You looking to buy? I’ve got about four kilos.”

Tommy and Kyle looked at each other, nervously. They didn’t want to antagonize their drug dealer.

Billy ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “I just wanted to talk. I’ve been seeing Harrington hanging around you freaks lately and wanted to know why?”

Eddie folded his arms. “I get you’re new here, Hargrove, but your friends should have told you: I’m the king of picking up lost sheep. I like bringing people into my fold that the rest of this school has deemed outcasts. Steve Harrington has become one of those. And how could I resist such a tempting treat as the former king of Hawkins High?”

“You leave him the fuck alone, you hear me?” Billy growled.

“Or what?” Eddie asked. “You’ll do me like you did him? And then where will you get your weed? Because if you do I will make sure that I don’t sell to you or any of your little friends.” He wagged his finger as he indicated to Tommy and Kyle. “I’ll fucking cut off the entire basketball team. Don’t think I won’t. How long do you think you’ll be king then, Hargrove? When suddenly everyone’s supply dries up because you fucked with me?”

Kyle tugged on Billy’s arm. “Come on, man. Whatever your beef with Harrington is, it’s not worth this.”

Tommy just stood there looking Eddie in the eye.

“So what’s it going to be, Hagen?” Eddie asked. “You going to side with King Jackass here and alienate the whole fucking basketball team because you’ve got a hard on for Harrington? Or are you going to the smart thing and walk away?”

Tommy grabbed Billy’s other arm. “Let’s go.”

Billy wrenched his arms from both of them and stalked off.

“Run along, Tommy,” Eddie said making a shooing motion with his hands. “Go suck Hargrove’s dick.”

Tommy made to swing at Eddie, but Kyle stopped him. “Don’t do it, dude. He’s trying to get a rise out of you.”

Eddie grinned. He blew a kiss at Tommy and then walked off, a nervous energy humming in his veins.

He walked out to his van and found Steve waiting for him. Eddie smirked.

“You waiting for me, big boy?” he asked walking up to the other boy.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did about my art project,” Steve explained. “And then I saw Billy and Tommy and I got worried.”

Eddie patted his cheek. “You’re sweet, but I told you, I’m immune.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Plus, pretty boy,” Eddie said. “You won’t have to worry about that lot anymore. They came after me and I set them straight. If they want to keep buying weed, either they’ve got find someone new or leave you the hell alone.”

Steve sighed in relief. “So everything’s cool?”

“Cool as can be,” Eddie agreed. He opened the door and hopped into the van. “And I didn’t do anything to your project, Stevie.”

He saluted Steve and drove off, leaving behind a very confused, but very happy Steve Harrington.

Steve kept his eye on Tommy and Billy but by the end of the week there was no doubt that whatever Eddie had said them, made them back off.

“Hey, Steve,” Gareth said, nonchalant. “Did you know that there chemicals used in the art department for all sorts art related shit that can dissolve paper?”

Steve cocked an eyebrow at him. “You don’t say.”

“Didn’t you now,” Brian said with a grin, “Gareth’s brother is a big photography nerd.”

“Oh, he must know Jonathan Byers, then,” Steve said, deliberately not taking their bait.

Gareth cocked his head to the side and hummed. “Maybe not. Different grades. But still could do, I suppose.”

Steve grinned. “Miss Chen did say it was a photography student that ruined my comic, maybe I should go thank Jonathan.” He winked at them and they burst out laughing.

Which was actually what Steve thought had happened when Eddie denied all knowledge of what happened. That Jonathan had recognized the scene of Steve on his way to Jonathan’s house and messed it up, worried Steve might get in trouble with the government.

But Gethin doing it made Steve sigh in relief. He already owe his life to Jonathan, owing him for the art project, too? That was too much for even Steve’s wounded pride.

Steve had already fobbed Nancy off earlier in the week because Jonathan had snitched.

She was practically screaming about being so careless. As if Steve would make the characters look like them. He had asked her if she had seen it herself and when she admitted she hadn’t, Steve told her to back off. Which lo and behold, she actually did.

“It’s bullshit Miss Chen even said anything,” Eddie growled. “It’s of this boy walking up to a house at night. It could’ve been of a boy going to pick up a girl on a date, but because Steve used muted tones and creepy vibes, she decided it was sad or some shit and threatened to call Steve’s parents.”

The other three boys looked at each other. “That is bullshit,” they all agreed.

Steve shrugged. “I changed to be about a lost little girl who connects with a social recluse and they become a family. If she gives me shit about that one, I’ll kindly let Chief Hopper know that Miss Chen thinks him and his adopted daughter’s story is toooo depressing for school.”

“I like the way you think,” Jeff said with a cackle.

Steve grinned. Silence descended as the boys ate their lunch. As they were packing up, he casually dropped a bomb on them.

“Miss Lucy wants me to try out for the school musical...”

“No way, dude!” Eddie said. Miss Lucy was the drama teacher. Her last name was one of those that looked easy on paper but really wasn’t. So she had all her students call her by her first name.

“I thought you were new to the whole drama thing,” Brian said.

“I am but she seems to think I’m good enough to tryout,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Are you going to do it?” Eddie asked in all seriousness.

Steve bit his lip. “I want to but I don’t want people to get mad at me if I do a get a part.”

Gareth’s brow furrowed. “Why would they be mad at you?”

Steve shrugged again. “That a newbie like me is taking away a roll from one of the more seasoned kids?”

“If that’s the case,” Jeff said, “then fuck them. You didn’t know you had a talent for it.”

Steve smiled warmly at them. “Thanks, guys.”

Eddie clapped him on the back. “You go get ‘em, tiger!”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

He felt the warmth from where Eddie touched his back all day long. And he carried that feeling all the way through his audition.

“You are such chicken shit,” Eddie told Steve. The results were back for call backs and he was too afraid to look.

“I know, I know,” Steve murmured. “But I would rather walk through an entire pack of demodogs then look at that stupid piece of paper.”

“What the fuck is a demodog?”

Steve blinked. “Something the kids made up for their D&D campaign.” Which was true. Mostly.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie said, licking his lips. “You owe big time for this.”

“I’ll buy you dinner,” Steve promised.

“And it better be somewhere nice!” Eddie called back over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled.

Within seconds Eddie came flouncing back. “Bad news, Stevie...”

“I didn’t get called back?” Steve asked.

Eddie cackled. “You got called back for Charles Thomson. You’re going up against Kyle Carver.”

“Fuck.”

“Language, Mr Harrington,” Mr Hall, one of the swim coaches murmured as he walked by.

“Sorry, coach,” Steve said automatically. He turned back to Eddie. “He’s going to get it, isn’t he?”

“Kyle?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. “Probably. Though it would be a serious miscarriage of justice if he does.”

Steve grinned. “Good thing you’re a fan of those. Maybe you start a letter campaign against bias casting in school plays.”

Eddie looked around to make sure there weren’t any teachers. “Fuck off, Harrington.”

Steve kissed his nose and ran off giggling. “See you later, Munson.”

Eddie stood in the hall being jostled by other students as he thoughtfully rubbed his nose.

Steve watched Kyle audition from the audience and was so sure Kyle had it in the bag. Until he opened his mouth to sing and what came out of his mouth was horribly off key.

“Mr Carver, are you all right?” Miss Lucy asked.

Kyle nodded and tried again. This time it was better, but no where near it was when he auditioned the first time.

“I must be coming down with a cold,” Kyle excused.

Miss Lucy frowned. “Your turn, Mr Harrington.”

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slow, like Eddie had taught him. He stepped up to the stage and turned around.

“You know, sometimes I think the general is speaking to me,” Steve recited his lines, his voice breaking on the last word. And then he used the scene to launch into the singing part of his audition.

Miss Lucy was humming and nodding as Steve finished up the song.

“Thank you, Mr Harrington,” Miss Lucy said. “Results will be posted on the drama room door tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Miss Lucy,” Steve said.

As he passed Kyle the boy hissed, “Suck up.”

Steve just shrugged. “Or maybe it’s just polite to thank someone for their time.”

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag list: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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miheartsedthings · 9 months ago

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good morning, with billy !

Lovely ~ @billysbot

Thanks for being patient while I worked on this. It's kinda angsty, but ends on fluff. Hope you like it!

Words: ~ 3,000

SFW Billy x Reader

Summary: Billy moves back to California with scars and unfinished business with you. He shows up to a party you're throwing. As usual, the two of you are the last ones awake, and it's finally time to settle your childhood beef.

Warnings: Aggressive behavior, angst, Mind Flayer, fluff

Billy’s been home a few months already. He has a job at his buddy’s surf shop and an apartment Susan insisted on putting him up in. What he doesn't have is the nerve to call you. The events at Star Court left him changed, and as he sat in the hospital through graduation, he couldn’t stop thinking about the road that had led him there. All the anger and resentment he’d brought with him to Hawkins, all the ways those negative emotions had torn through him, bringing out the very worst. Sure, some of it had been that monster, but there was plenty of darkness for it to feed on. Wrath he’d cultivated and thrived on. The Flayer had only taken advantage, turned it on him so he could feel it just as harshly as he inflicted it on others.

Steve, Nancy, and the kids all regarded him differently. With reverence and a little weariness. They had never trusted him, and now they never would. The only exception to this was Max. After the Mind Flayer was gone, she treated Billy like a brother, and in his injured state, he was in no position to refuse it. She visited him in the hospital, with food, and mixtapes she'd made of new songs coming out. He was grateful for her, happy the rest of them were alive. But he needed to get away.

Hawkins was a different place in the wake of that nightmare. Every shadow filled with movement, every sound insidious. Even the buildings themselves were strange. Besides, he was shaken, and there was no more energy for keg stands and ripping around town in the Camaro. He needed to rest in a place that felt safe. To rediscover the person he’d been before Hawkins, before his mom’s desertion. He needed to go home.

As soon as he was well enough, he packed up the Camaro and took off, bound for California. Max refused to cry but he could tell she was sad. It was wild for Billy to think his little brat of a step-sister would miss him. Back in Cali, the scenery was brighter, but Billy was flooded with memories of his childhood; days that were full to the brim with you.

The two of you met as kids, taking swimming lessons at the local pool. You were partnered up one day and from then on you were inseparable. You went to different schools, which didn't stop you from meeting every weekend to go swimming or hit the arcade or the movie theater. You spent Summer days riding your bikes around town trying to find trouble. He was the person you'd talk to when you fought with your girlfriends. Your house was where he ran when things got hard with his dad. You were best friends until the day his mom disappeared.

It was your junior year of high school. You'd watched each other change and grown attached to each other's company. Even though you'd both dated and cared for other people, you'd never felt for anyone else the way you felt about each other. The line between friendship and love was so thin the slightest pressure could’ve broken it. You thought you’d have the courage to confess your feelings that summer before senior year. Then, one day, he didn't wanna talk to you anymore.

“Are you kidding?”

You sat there on your bike, watching him flick a lighter over and over just to see the flame spring to life before letting it extinguish. All you knew was that his mom was gone, not how, or when or why.

“You're really not gonna tell me what happened?”

He sat on his porch steps, his face etched into a frown. He was acting tough but you could tell he'd been crying. When his eyes lifted to yours you expected they would soften like usual, but he glared at you.

“Hello?” You called.

He looked away. That's when you hopped off your bike, letting it fall in the grass, and snatched for the lighter. He shoved you away. You landed hard on your wrist, an instant burst of pain making you cry out. Usually when you horsed around and one of you got hurt, the other would snap out of it. Apologize. He just stood there on the porch steps, glaring down at you.

“Don't act like you care.” He sneered.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He turned to walk inside and something desperate let loose inside you. The need to reverse whatever was happening by whatever means necessary.

“William.”

He stopped in his tracks.

Slowly, he turned, his eyes full of ice. For a moment you thought good, I have his attention. Then, he came down the steps and grabbed you by your injured wrist, yanking you to your feet. It didn't seem to matter that he was hurting you. He got in your face, glaring with such coldness.

“Don't you ever. EVER fucking call me that.”

His eyes were stone, his lips pinched into a tight line, and for the first time in your life, you were afraid of him. You felt yourself shrinking away, and when he let you go you stumbled back, tripped over your bike, and landed hard on the sidewalk.

The boy you'd grown up with was gone, and in his place was someone too full of anger to get close to. He was a burning sun.

The two of you stopped speaking.

A couple of weeks later you heard a rumor he was moving, and then he was gone.

Billy has looked back on the day he pushed you so many times. Every time he remembers the look on your face, all that pain and confusion, it fills him with regret. He wanted more than anything to call you and apologize, but every time he picked up the phone he found himself frozen, just staring at it. What would he say? How could he explain? In the end, he heard from one of his old buddies that you were throwing a party, and he resolved to be there. He'd say what he needed to say. One way or another.

“Happy Youcla?”

Piper makes a face looking at the banner Tracy made, and Tracy makes a face back.

“You-C-LA. It's like, an acronym. For UCLA?”

“Okay. Why?” Piper asks.

“It's fine,” you interject before the two can start fighting again, “It's cute. It's unique, Trac, I love it.”

Your friend group is…eclectic, and only on special occasions do they tolerate each other for your benefit. Your college going-away party is just the thing to bring them all together for one night. Which didn't stop it from being nerve-wracking. The house is yours for one more weekend, your parents away on a strategically planned vacation, giving you space for one final iconic L/N bash. Your friends have pulled out all the stops, decorating, sourcing booze and grass, one of them even offering to DJ.

The party is going well, friends from high school plus some people you’ve never even met crowd into the house, sitting along the stairs and standing in the halls. Filling the house with noise and laughter. You quickly get lost in it, drinking and dancing. Your head is empty until Billy walks in.

He takes you completely by surprise. You recognize his face, of course (who could forget that face?) but the rest of him is a shock. Growing up, both of you were a couple of dorks. Your mothers dressed the two of you in corduroy and plaid. Matching Mickey Mouse sweatshirts. Now he's wearing denim and leather, putting a cigarette out in an abandoned solo cup. His chest is clearly bulky under his red button-up, and he saunters through the foyer with an undeniable magnetism that draws dozens of eyes.

He's fucking hot.

His eyes scan the crowd, and then he sees you. He pauses mid-stride and stares at you for a long moment, a little smirk curling his lips. You turn away, your whole body flushing hot. God damn. Your childhood bestie is a certified smokin'-hot baddie. When you glance back he's flanked by a few of your friends who didn't grow up around here. He gives them well-meaning smiles, but his eyes come back to yours, making you look away again.

Fuck.

You thought you'd be ready when B-boy came back, but you can hardly stand his gaze. You didn't expect he'd be this fuckin fine. You’d always found him cute, but it was nothing like this! Now, he's being mobbed by girls the second he enters a party. You find yourself wondering how you look compared to your old self. Billy used to tease you about your looks, and now here he is. You move around the corner into the living room, taking another long drink to take your mind off things.

“Is that who I think it is?” Piper says, coming into the living room with you. “Is that B-boy Hargrove?”

You make a weak, anxious noise and drain your cup, your body buzzing.

“Holy shit.” Piper continues “He’s a fuckin smoke show.”

You have to buy yourself time to figure out how to talk to him without losing your mind. What on Earth would you even say? You spend the night dodging him. Luckily, everyone's eager for his ear and keep flocking to him, flooding him with questions. You’re sure he hates it, the smell of desperation always annoyed him, but you aren’t ready. Your wrist had been sprained that day and ever since it tends to ache when you’re upset, as you are now. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and old bitterness is filling your throat.

At some point, you're heading into the garage for more beer, and just as you're opening the extra fridge the door to the house opens and there he is. Billy stands there looking you up and down. Your body is warm and you're full of nerves.

“Hey.” You manage. You clear your throat and grab the six pack you'd come for. “I don't know why everyone insists on these being ice cold.” You say, at a loss for words. At least, words that make any sense. “I mean, of course, you don't want warm beer but it gives you a damn brain freeze sometimes.”

He's standing there stone-faced, looking at you so seriously you wonder if he's come with bad news.

“We should talk.”

Your breath catches in your lungs, staying there for a moment.

“About what?” You shrug, panicking.

Of all the ways you thought you'd react to Billy coming home, you didn't think it'd be like this. At the moment, all you want is to scramble away from him. Escape the tangle of emotions welling up inside you. The anger you thought you’d let go of, and the sadness underneath it. He’d thrown you away. There's so much you wanna say to him. Too much.

“Ya know, we were kids, B. It's whatever. I gotta get this beer inside, though.”

You approach him, hoping he'll move, and when he doesn't you're forced to confront the reality of how he looks. He’s fucking beautiful, and he’s looking at you like he wants to say something. You're right in front of him and memories are flooding you, rushing around in a whirlpool.

The time the two of you hid in the mall until it closed, or hacked one of the PAC Man games at the arcade and used the bounty of quarters to go hog wild in the candy store. The night you had your first kiss stolen by some jerk at summer camp and Billy kept ranting about finding the guy and beating him up for you.

His desire to defend you had put you at ease.

“You're a babe now, but you're still a chicken.” He says with a smirk.

“You're one to talk.”

You brush past him, successfully avoiding him for the rest of the night.

The house is quiet and littered with abandoned cups. Here and there things are where they shouldn’t be; a throw pillow on the stairs, a desk lamp in the bathroom. It’s so close to sunrise and you’re so tired, but you can’t sleep. You can never sleep after a party. So you go downstairs, finally leaving your room where you’d been hiding out (crying), and make your way to the living room. Someone left the TV on, and Singin' in the Rain is playing at a low volume. Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, and Donald O’Connor are tapping through the opening number. You pull a throw blanket from the floor and wrap it around yourself. Just as you’re getting comfortable on the couch, you hear rustling in the kitchen. Billy emerges with a coffee mug.

You both pause, and he leans against the archway, looking as comfortable as ever. Like he belongs there in your home.

“Can’t sleep.” he says.

You're too tired to scurry away and let him sit beside you.

“Since when do you drink coffee?”

“They gave it to me all the time at the hospital.”

This gets your attention.

“You got hurt?”

“It's a long story.”

The two of you sit side by side, falling into a comfortable silence. His presence beside you is warm and familiar.

“You’re different.” he says.

“Yeah well, so are you. Ladies man now.”

He smirks a real cocky little grin that doesn’t last. It melts away while he’s looking into the mug, and it's replaced with a forlorn expression. He’s nervous. You can always tell when he’s nervous.

“For a while, I thought I’d never see you again," you say.

His grip tightens around the cup. It’s the novelty mug you got from Virginia Beach the summer you turned 12. A vacation you'd shared with Billy and his parents.

“How was Indiana, anyway?”

He groans, leaning back against the couch.

“A fuckin nightmare. And I mean that in so many ways, when I tell you about all the shit…”

He looks at you, his eyes groggy from alcohol and lack of sleep.

“It was like that time I got stuck in the Devil's Mansion at the county fair.”

You nod at the memory.

“I remember. You freaked out, and started breaking all the puppets.”

His eyes are clouded with memories, and the kind of fear you haven’t seen in him in a long time. He’s come home haunted. Injured. Your heart beats hard in your chest.

“There's so much I wanna tell you.” he says.

“Just start by saying you're sorry.”

His blue eyes are the ones you recognize.

“I am, Y/n. I think about that day all the time.”

You look at him and see the boy you grew up with.

“What happened?”

He sighs, taking a beat to reach that tender place he hides away. It's hard for him, even with you.

“She left. She just left that morning and she didn't say shit to me.”

Your eyes tear up as he lets this out, replaying the day he’d hurt you.

“But that didn't mean I had to take it out on you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay.

“It kinda…you kinda fucked me up that day..."

Your voice is strained, feather fragile. He sets down the coffee and turns his body to face you, pulling his leg up on the couch so there’s only a small wedge of space between yourself and his lap. His face is tight, and he runs his hands into his hair the way he does when he's frustrated.

“I know, I'm- I'm fuckin sorry, I…I've been thinking about all this shit lately. I've hurt a lot of people, and it all started that day. You were the first person and you didn't deserve it.”

You can't help it anymore, you're swelled with emotions and the tears start coming. You wipe them on your sleeve. He looks so sad to see you cry, his face growing red.

“Ya know,” you begin “My biggest fear for a while was that you'd never apologize, and we'd never go surfing on Lizard Island.”

He laughed. It filled him with so much relief that you were the same sentimental weirdo he'd left over a year ago.

“You forgive me?” He asked.

Outside, the first rays of sunlight were peeking through, and on the screen, the trio tapped across a grand foyer singing ‘Good mornin’, good mooornin’!’

“Yeah, B,” you manage, your voice breaking “I forgave you a long time ago.”

He smiles, and in the light of morning, it’s the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You can't stand it anymore, you lean over and kiss him and he pulls you into his arms, your body falling into his warm lap. He kisses you deeply, taking your lips and tongue in a greedy show of affection.

The sweetest ‘Good Morning’ you’ve ever known.

Thanks for the request! ~

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove 18+#billy hargrove smut #stranger things #fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy stranger things #story #requests open #request

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sarahowritesostucky · 3 months ago

Text

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 3061

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, kidnapping, cannibalism, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, ignoring of sexual boundaries, dub-con bordering on non-con, (mostly humorous) gore, (mostly humorous) body horror

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen" ... or something like that

12. Tenderize

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter. Story Masterlist

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Steve:

Bucky spends the afternoon doing what he calls "meat prep." Steve tries not to look, he really does, but the House Hunters show he puts on the television doesn’t really hold a candle to the morbidly fascinating process that is Bucky, "prepping" Melissa’s leg.

Bucky sends it up in the dumbwaiter after taking Erica her lunch. He washes his hands meticulously at the sink and dries them, picks the leg up and plops it down onto the counter with a flourish. It’s the lower leg. Left or right, Steve doesn’t take note, he just sees the painted toenails, the tattoo on the ankle that he can’t quite make out. He sits on the couch and peers over the back of it, watching Bucky work.

Bucky moves with a sort of glee, almost like a dance, as if he can hear music that Steve can’t. He looks very in his element, and very handsome and capable as he works. Steve would probably spend more time admiring that, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s also watching the man slicing pieces off of a woman’s calf.

“I usually take the non-dominant forearm, first,” Bucky tells him as he’s working. “This was Melissa’s … third cut? Anyway, it’s all I’ve got left of her now. I defrosted it a couple days ago. There’s this Italian guy who always orders shank, specifically.”

Jesus fuck, Steve thinks. "Shank." He actually calls it that.

“I send it with everything he needs for my grandma’s osso buco,” Bucky declares. “Herbs, wine, specifically-curated olive oil. All that and like, some hair or some panties or something. Because, you know: perverts.” He rolls his eyes and Steve has to suppress a horrible urge to laugh. Bucky looks up and catches sight of his twitching mouth, and he smiles back. “Yeah, I know. Good ol’ Gammy made hers with beef. But trust me,” he points his knife at Steve. “This way is so much better.”

Steve chews his lip. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You-don’t-have-to,” Bucky sing-songs from the kitchen, in his element, happy. “You’re welcome to try any cut you want, anytime.” He produces a meat tenderizer and starts pounding away at the slices of meat he’s produced.

Steve winces as the hammer comes down hard, and then lighter in a series of almost loving taps. Christ. “I’ll pass for now,” he murmurs, unsure if Bucky’s heard him or not. He continues to watch the macabre display for a bit, but goes back to the television once Bucky is vacuum packing the meat with the herbs and spices.

He's very surprised (and honestly a bit grossed out with himself) that he doesn’t get more upset from watching the actual process. He doesn’t even get nauseous. Oh, it’s weird for sure. Downright shocking when he very first sees the leg lifted out of the dumbwaiter and plopped onto the countertop, the pedicured foot still attached, Bucky slicing away and hacking through bone. But Steve doesn’t retch and get sick like he thought he would. His stomach doesn’t once roil or threaten to turn. It’s like he’s already been desensitized to it, just from the sheer amount of stuff he’s imagined, from what Bucky’s told him and shown him so far, eating kidneys and ‘other-bacon’ right in front of him.

He thinks of Clint and watching Midsommar with him, asking him how he could stomach all the gore.

“It’s not real. Just movie magic, dude.”

His own lack of a physical reaction to this actual gore is what disturbs Steve the most, so he forces himself to sit back on the couch facing the tv, and actually pay attention to the show. The young married couple is searching for a house in Toronto. They need to upsize because they’re having another baby. Steve watches the show. He hopes they pick the middle house. They wind up picking the last one.

Absently, Steve wonders what osso buco is.

Bucky:

“What’s osso buco?” Steve asks.

Bucky’s just finished with his meat prep and woken Steve up from his nap on the couch. He’d been so sweet lying there, looking so peaceful. Bucky hadn’t wanted to wake him, but it's getting late, and he’s already started chilling the wines for dinner.

He smiles at Steve and sits at the opposite end of the couch from him, tangling their feet together in the middle. He describes what osso buco is. “I was surprised you watched,” he tells him gently, honestly. He rubs his socked foot against Steve’s bare one. “What’d you think?”

Steve is quiet for a long time. When he finally answers, he simply says, “You were right. We do look a lot like beef.”

Bucky busts out in a laugh and leans forward to slap him on the thigh. “Told ya!” He gets up to go and finish the final elements of their dinner. “You ready for date night, my dear?”

Steve watches him from over the back of the couch again. “Mmhm. What’re we doing?”

Bucky beams at him. He’s been looking forward to this all day. “First, we have our appetizer: La Pissaladiere.” He’s begun speaking in a very fake French accent, and Steve scoffs.

"That's terrible."

"Yeah it was kinda terrible, huh?”

Steve laughs, and then Bucky laughs with him, and for a second it feels just like one of those genuine, laughing stupidly together moments that they used to have. And it makes Bucky’s heart squeeze painfully as the brief moment fizzles out. He can see it in Steve’s face too, how it hurts.

Bucky looks down, clearing his throat. “Um, yeah. And then we’ve got this salad, pretty simple. And the main, which is …” he does a drumroll on the countertop. “Osso Buco!” He does that one in an equally terrible Italian accent, but Steve is not amused.

"What?! No! No fucking way!" he cries, tiny and furious and kneeling up higher on the couch cushions. Bucky marvels at him and has such a strong urge to tackle him into submission and sex right then and there, that he has to look away. “Bucky,” Steve growls. “You promised you wouldn’t make me—”

“Calm down, babe,” Bucky hurries, not wanting Steve’s temper to ruin their date night. “It’s the two version meal again, don’t worry. Yours is 'vegetarian'.”

Steve deflates some, but Bucky can see that he’s still wary. “Prove it,” he says, and Bucky sighs dramatically to cover up the disappointment he feels at Steve not being able to trust him yet.

“Okay, come here.” He unlocks Steve’s tether at the couch and brings him over to the island countertop, locks him there. “Look.” He points to each crockpot that’s been braising the meat for hours. He’d put tape on each one to label them. The right one reads “Vegetarian,” the left one reads “Melissa.”

He's pleased as punch when Steve rolls his eyes and even laughs a little. “This is so crazy,” he mutters. “Why can’t you just enjoy cow like everybody else?” He’s asking in a good enough natured way, so Bucky indulges him,

“I told you, Honey. We’re just better.”

“Yeah yeah, I remember. ‘Tastes like roadkill in comparison’.”

“It does,” Bucky insists, though he can see Steve rolling his eyes. “Only one way to prove me wrong,” he challenges, leaning over the counter with a smirk. Steve scowls and says no way, and Bucky backs off. Instead, he tries to explain it to him, musing, “And you know, it also just makes the whole meal more of a … a spiritual experience.” He meets Steve’s eyes, and they’re riveted on him. Bucky licks his bottom lip slowly, eager to explain, to make Steve see. “When it’s not just an animal? When it's us? Well then you’re not just eating. It's so much more than that. You’re taking someone else inside yourself. You’re consuming them. It’s …” he inhales deeply. “It’s heady. It’s meaningful.” He sees Steve gulp and knows he’s playing with fire here, but he pushes onwards, taking Steve’s small hand from over the counter and covering it with his own. “No matter what they did in their life, they’re still a person. And a person matters. In a way an animal never can.” He watches the movement of Steve's closed lips, the nervous rise and fall of his Adam's apple. Bucky shivers and breathes, “It’s a very powerful thing.”

Steve pulls his hand back slowly, never looking away from Bucky’s eyes. Bucky can’t tell if he’s terrified, or fascinated, or both. He’d take both.

He breaks the tension of the moment by pulling back and standing up straight again, giving Steve some breathing room after that—admittedly impassioned—speech. “And then of course, we have Dessert: le tarte tatìn—with fennel ice cream, though I think the French would arrest me for serving it à la mode.” He moves away to go check on the crock pots and then the oven where the Pissaladiere is baking. “Almost ready,” he says brightly, clapping his hands together. “Let’s go set the table!”

Steve:

After dinner, they decide to finish watching The Hunger Games. They’ve only got the last movie to go. Bucky puts it on and they snuggle up close together on the couch. Steve is left untethered to any cord or chain, and he spends at least the first ten minutes of the movie eyeing up every solid object in the near vicinity, imagining what would or would not be suitable for bludgeoning Bucky with.

It’s a dreadful train of thought, and when Bucky pulls him in cozily against his side and kisses his hair and whispers that he’s so happy to have Steve back with him like this, Steve almost feels guilty for his scheming. He knows he has to stay strong, though. He just sat through an entire—admittedly delicious—dinner service where he watched the other man consume wine and salad and human shank.

Excuse him, he means osso buco.

Steve’s "vegetarian" version had been delicious. Bucky is an excellent cook and Steve really, really wishes he was just a normal boyfriend. Because cute little cooking-at-home-together dinner dates are so much fun with him. If only, if only. It’s so horrible that it’s laughable, and that’s what Steve’s found himself doing more often than not. Laughing about the absurdity of the situation in which he finds himself. He tells himself that it’s okay, that it’s a coping mechanism, and not him becoming used to anything. God forbid.

In the end, Steve concedes that Bucky was right: Peeta is a much better match for Katniss. “But only due to their circumstances,” he argues, as they’re eating their dessert on the couch, the credits and soundtrack music still rolling up the tv screen. “I mean, they’re just bonded through PTSD, basically. If things had gone differently, Gale would’ve been the one to know her better, deeper.” He shrugs. “Plus, he’s cuter. And taller.”

Bucky counters by pointing out that it’s always about your circumstances. “You can’t play that ‘what if’ game,” he says. “We live through what we live through. And it changes us, and that’s okay. Life doesn't always turn out the way we planned. Happiness comes from acceptance of that.”

He’s staring straight at Steve as he says it, and Steve finds his next mouthful of tarte tatìn going down with some difficulty. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I guess so." Does Bucky really expect him to accept all of this? He shifts uncomfortably and holds out his bowl. "I ah, I think I'm done with mine.”

Bucky takes it with gentle fingers and a soft expression. “I hope you liked everything,” he says. “I wanted to make this special for you. A real treat.”

"Oh." Steve flounders with his heart in his throat. “It ... it was.”

youtube

“Mm.” Bucky sets both of their bowls on the coffee table, then he comes back and crawls over to Steve on the couch, crowding him back, and back, until Steve is lying down and Bucky's over top of him. Steve shudders, parts his lips to say something in protest, but Bucky kisses him before he can.

It’s not just the kiss, is the thing. It’s the way that Bucky’s elbows and forearms box him in. It’s the way his hands slide up Steve’s shoulders, how they trace his neck and his jaw. It’s how his full body lies atop him, how his weight pushes down, sinking Steve into the cushions as good as any restraint could. It’s how he fits so perfectly between Steve’s legs, and how his hips roll, slow and purposeful, while he kisses him.

Without meaning to, Steve moans, and the moment his hands come up to hold Bucky’s shoulders, he knows it’s game over: He's lost, tonight.

He still protests the loss, of course. Tries to stop it on the couch, and then in the hallway, and in the bedroom. But Bucky hushes him endlessly, kisses away his whimpers and licks his moans into existence, taking them as permission, as Steve conceding his loss.

Steve really, really doesn’t mean it that way, but there’s only so much he can do, and so much he can take. He’s been alone and scared for weeks now, and every time Bucky touches him it’s like a dagger in his guts, a sharp and painful reminder of how they used to make love before all this happened. How good Bucky used to make him feel, how well he’d played his body and taken him apart and made him come and cry. Steve wants that again, god damn him. He wants to feel good again.

So, somewhere in-between the leather couch and the luxury bedcovers, he really does give in.

The second he stops squirming and starts really kissing back—not just accepting it, but participating—Bucky moans louder. He bites Steve’s lip and says, “Yes, baby. Come on. Let me make you feel good.”

And isn’t that just what Steve wants? It’s certainly the best he can have, in his present situation. He shivers full-body as Bucky undresses them both, then lies out over him, warm and naked. They’re both hard, and Steve pants when Bucky slots one of those thick, firm thighs between his legs and pushes, rocks his hips so his own cock drags against Steve’s belly. “Fuck, Honey,” he breathes, kissing him. Hot kiss after hot kiss, that dominating tongue rolling in and keeping Steve’s thoughts short and disjointed.

Steve keens sharply at a particularly good roll of their hips. “Oh, oh, yeah …”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, nipping his chin. “What do you want, baby? You want my fingers? Want Daddy to make love to you?”

Steve groans and turns his cheek into the pillow to escape it, the kisses and the words, both. Bucky just hums knowingly and takes up residence at his throat instead, sucking and licking and biting at the skin. Even after all that’s happened between them, he’s still remembered that one slip Steve had, when he'd let the word tumble out of his mouth: Daddy. He squeezes his eyes shut and writhes against Bucky’s larger body, dick blurting out precum at the way Bucky touches him and treats him and talks to him. He’s so fucking perfect. ... Well, except for the whole cannibalism th—

Bucky wraps a hand around his cock and starts stroking just in time to put an end to that train of thought, and Steve gasps, his belly tightening in such sharp pleasure that he thinks he might come. “Sl-slow down!” he gasps, unable to stop his hips from jolting up. “I-I can’t. Wait, wait ..."

Bucky listens, cooing apologies and praise at him and petting his dick back down against his belly. His hand is slick. Where the hell did he get lube? Steve stops wondering when the hand ventures further back. “Tilt up for me, Honey,” Bucky murmurs, kissing his collarbone, humming an approving sound when Steve listens. “There you go. Good boy.”

Steve squirms harder at his embarrassing reaction to being praised. But it’s something he’s always gone for, and hearing Bucky say it in his gorgeous voice, from his gorgeous lips, makes it hit even harder. He feels a finger go in, and Bucky finds it easily, just like he always had before. He strokes over his prostate, never too rough, always gentle, letting the pleasure and pressure build inside Steve at his own pace.

“Shit,” Steve curses, gritting his teeth and rolling his hips against Bucky’s hand. Another finger joins the first, so easy, and Steve humps down harder against it. “Bucky,” he chokes, gasping. “W-wait, wait.”

“So sensitive, baby.” Bucky eases his fingers out and kisses at the corner of Steve's mouth, speaking smugly against his lips. “So wound up. What’s the matter, Stevie? Haven’t you been getting laid?” Steve grits his teeth and snarls a half-hearted “fuck you” at him, but it only makes Bucky laugh and slick his cock up and fit the head right to Steve’s entrance. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, propping himself up with his other arm, pushing in just a little, so slow, letting Steve’s body suck him in. “I’ll be gentle.”

He is. He pushes in so incredibly slow. So slow that it becomes torturous, makes Steve wrap his arms around his shoulders and hook his feet over the backs of his thighs, pulling him in closer. “Fuck,” he exhales against Bucky’s ear, dragging his lips over it. “Oh, Bucky.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck me.”

Bucky starts rolling his hips, rocking into him and pulling out just a little, just enough. It’s like he doesn’t want to get too far away from Steve, doesn’t want to separate from him long enough to make their sex anything but close and deep. Steve cries out and moans and makes all sorts of shameful noises, because it feels amazing. Grinding down against Bucky and slipping a hand between their bodies to stroke himself off, it feels so goddamn good that he cries.

He tells himself that they’re tears of pleasure, of ecstasy. But that’s not entirely true. Bucky seems to know that by the tender way he kisses them off his cheeks, by the way he whispers "it’s okay, it’s okay" to him as he fucks him, and by the way he holds him so tightly once it’s over and they’ve both spent all over Steve’s stomach. “Shh sh sh,” he calms him, forcing him still once he starts to panic and cry out and pull. “Shhh. It’s okay.” He kisses his hair and holds fast until Steve collapses, giving up the struggle, exhausted. Steve cries sluggish tears, and Bucky hugs him and says quiet things into his hair for a long time. One of them might be "I love you," but Steve isn’t sure.

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sgt-seabass · 2 years ago

Note

the idea of steve kemp being mean and dark and manhandling you to your knees and slapping you around and making you worship him and lick his shoes is so hot 🥺 especially if he's threatening and degrading the reader through it

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

✧˚ · . 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.

pairing — steve kemp x little!reader w/c — almost 900 words this is a dark fic. 18+ only. warnings — little!reader, dd/lg elements, implied kidnapping, referenced cannibalism, referenced murder, threats, degradation, pet names (sunflower), face slapping, spanking, shoe licking, shoe grinding a/n — this ask made me go fucking FERAL i swear to god. i could kiss your brain, thank you for blessing me with this thot. i was going to write other things but couldn't get this idea out of my head. i love you. not beta read.

Steve didn’t know you were different at first.

He had wined and dined you the same as his other victims, and with a bit of smooth talking, you’d been an easy catch.

You were sweet. Wearing pretty little dresses with a gorgeous smile that beams to all those around. Like a sunflower, which was the nickname he’d chosen for you.

It wasn’t until the reality of the situation had set in that he started to see the hints of uniqueness. Typically, his captives would scream, fight, and try to claw his eyes out. But you had receded into yourself. A meek thing that cried in the corner. Like a kicked puppy.

Steve wasn’t one for affection, not in the traditional sense. But he liked you. And so, he kept you around.

Many girls came and went while you were kept in your little cell. Steve often talked with you, sitting on the ground while he ranted about his day. And if you listened well, you’d get a new stuffed toy. He’d learnt you liked them after you bundled your pillows to cuddle them like a bear.

It was amusing. His little sunflower was an exciting thing to have around.

Except when you weren’t good. That he hated more than anything.

You wouldn’t eat your dinner, picking at the meatloaf with disdain. Steve had made it especially for you, with beef, not his usual cuisine. You weren’t ready for his diet yet.

He’d grabbed you by the hair, dragging you across the room and into a new, empty cell. You’d wailed for your stuffies, for comfort, but bad girls don’t get privileges.

“What am I meant to do with an ungrateful little girl, huh? Do you want to end up like the rest of them?” Steve watched the fear flash across your face, your little sobs becoming so hard snot and spit dribbled down your face with your tears.

“What a pathetic little baby. Too stupid to even kill,” Steve cooed, swatting your hands away when you tried to cover your face. He wanted to see all the anguish. “Who am I, hm? Who am I, sunflower?”

“My— My— My G-God…” You snivelled out, and Steve scoffed, slapping you hard across the face.

You turned to him again, and he slapped you again. “Speak properly. This isn’t the time to be a bumbling mess. Face your consequences,” Steve was harsh, as he often was when things didn’t go his way.

“You’re my God,” you managed to get out amongst your sniffs and hiccupped sobs.

“That’s better. Now, you want to get back in my good books, right?”

You nodded desperately, and Steve smiled. His sunflower was always so eager to please.

Steve grabbed your hips, pulling you to sit on his manicured oxford shoes. He started you off, rubbing your cunt over the laces and leather below you until you got the idea. “That’s it. Rub that dirty pussy all over my shoes. I bet you like it, don’t you?”

The way you looked up at Steve had him almost cumming on the spot. You looked like an absolute mess, your tear-stricken cheeks and puffy eyes making him harder. “Fuck.” He muttered, looking down to the sheen left on his shoe from your sopping cunt, your wetness soaking through your underwear. “You’re my disgusting little baby, aren’t you, sunflower?”

“Y-Yes, daddy.”

Steve always loved hearing his two favourite words. He didn’t really have a kink for being called daddy, but how it made you all shy and submissive was well worth it.

You kept rubbing yourself with little moans and sobs until your hips started shuddering, and Steve knew you were getting close. He drank in the sight of you, your nipples peaked through the fabric of your dress and muscles tensing throughout your body. It was a picture-perfect sight. “You’re doing a good job, sunflower. But you were a bad girl. And bad girls don’t get to cum.”

Steve pulled you off him, your sounds turning to whimpers as you were denied your orgasm. His shoe shone with your juices, and Steve stuck it in your face, rubbing it with the leather. “Look at this. You’ve made it all dirty. I’d normally kill someone for dirtying my things like this.”

There wasn’t much Steve wouldn’t kill someone for, but he loved to taunt you nonetheless. “But I suppose I can forgive you if you clean it up.”

Steve laughed as you looked around the room, trying to find a rag or something to clean it with. “Stupid baby.” He grabbed your hair, ignoring your yelps and cries as he shoved your face against his shoe. “With your tongue.”

He held you there, not allowing an ounce of movement. With your ass in the air, he smacked your cheeks, watching as you tried to lick away your wetness as the spanks kept coming. He wanted you sore. Perhaps that would teach you a lesson.

You licked at his shoes, having to go over the same spot when your tears fell and made a mess all over again. It was an endless cycle that Steve was all too happy to witness.

Steve hummed, watching you contently. Maybe he’d get you another toy from the hospital gift shop after his shift tomorrow. He loved seeing his sunflower smile after being a crying mess, like a blooming flower after the rain.

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