#sad stevie baby hours

[hotluncheddie]

having autistic high masking steve thoughts..

steve harrington who’s black and white is these are the rules and you follow them. you turn up at school, you show your face at dinner, you do your hair and brush your teeth and speak when your spoken to. steve harrington who doesn’t want to be alone at lunch, knows that making friends in important because it’s the only thing his mother asked him after his first day, and he wants to be able to say ‘yes’ if she ever asks again. steve who loves to swim but hates how the shower water beats on his skin after, how the shampoo always get all over his face and he’s never given time to wipe it off in the right way, can’t seem to say how it makes him want to scream. all he knows he can’t scream because that’s ‘bad behaviour steven’ and then he won’t be able to swim. so he swallows it, he detaches, he only half exists in the shower and he feels a mass of dark smoke churn in his chest.

steve harrington who heard what the other kids said, how they spoke about the older kids, how people spoke on the tv. learned that when he grew up that he’d need to talk to girls like he wanted to date them, kiss them. talk to guys like he enjoyed hearing about their weekends, even if they were mean and annoying. even is he didn’t care and noticed how they never asked about him. but you’re not allowed to say that; your annoying, i don’t care, you make me feel bad. you have to listen and smile and fit in and be liked. not matter what.

steve harrington who’s smart and sensible and is good at recognising patterns. who knows how to survive, no matter how uncomfortable he is. no matter how tired he is by the evening, mind blasting static, no room do anything other than lay there. he doesn’t really know what he likes because he has no energy to do anything, anything other than going to school and go on dates. he got good at hiding how reading takes so long and writing never comes out in the right order first time. how so often he feels like his skin needs to just come off. how that scream is still sitting at the base of his throat.

he dreams of running away, to hide and just, be quiet. everything just need to be quiet and dark, for a little bit. for a while. but it can’t be, because he has to show his face, has to do his hair.

and then monsters exist. and steve survives, because he has to, because he can. he knows his role in the story, so he fights and he cares and he protects and he keeps talking to girls and he keeps brushing his teeth and when he gets beaten up it hurts, it’s uncomfortable, but what’s more discomfort when every day is uncomfortable. he’s always been uncomfortable but how can he ever not be, he has to follow the rules.

hurt/comfort pt2 & snippet pt3

ao3

[werepuppy-steve]

don't look at the timezones too closely, the idea of eddie on tour and leaving steve voicemails to wake up to in the morning was too cute to pass up ao3 link

"steeeeeve harrington."

eddie's sleepy voice rumbles away in steve's ear. there's no one else around so steve doesn't bother to hide his grin as he snuggles further under the blankets.

eddie chuckles, breathy and giddy, like he's telling a private joke. "good morning, sweetheart. well, morning for you. sun won't be up here for another–" there's a pause, then a shuffle, and steve can picture eddie rolling over in his hotel bed to look at the alarm clock even though he could just look at his phone, "–five hours, christ alive."

steve's grin turns gooey when eddie lets out a loud yawn into the receiver. he hears the sheets shifting and he has to reel his mind back in from the gutter.

"the boys say i'm stupid for leaving you all these voicemails," eddie tells him once he's comfortable. steve pictures them both laying the same way, facing each other. "they call me whipped every time i pick up my phone, but guess what, stevie?"

he pauses, like he's waiting for an answer.

steve can't help but to whisper back, "what, eds?" into the quiet of their bedroom.

"i miss you so much, sweetheart."

steve feels his heart jump to his throat so suddenly that he almost chokes on it. butterflies erupt in his belly and he can feel himself blushing. his lips wobble with the attempt to not make some embarrassing expression, even though he's the only one in the room.

it's been over a month since they've seen each other in person. photos of their teary eyed send off were still making the rounds on twitter and instagram—steve tucked into eddie's side at the check-in counter with their hands in each other's back pockets, them waiting in line at one of the airport restaurants because the flight was delayed so they had another two hour wait time. the fan video of them making out in a hidden alcove away from the band.

there's been facetime calls, but it doesn't replace the longing need to have eddie physically with him. to kiss him. to hold him. to bury his face in his neck and never let go.

"i don't think i tell you that enough, when i leave," eddie continues, his voice still soft and gravelly from lack of sleep and singing for three hours straight. "but i do. i'm so used to you being the first thing i see when i wake up that i get sad when i open my eyes and you're not beside me."

steve grips the blankets and lets out a pathetic whine, his chest tight.

"i miss holding your hand, i miss being able to kiss you, i miss hearing your laugh and seeing your smile." eddie sighs, deep and sorrowful, and it breaks steve's heart.

he wants to take his love's face in his hands and kiss him until he no longer sounds so sad.

"just fourteen hundred more hours and i'll have you back in my arms. call me after you listen to this, okay? i love you so much."

the voicemail ends and steve sits up, his bedhead wild and unruly. he taps out a message to chrissy asking for the next available flight they could put him on and sighs in relief when she says they can fly him out tomorrow night at the earliest.

mentally going over everything he needs to pack, steve falls back down onto the bed while his phone rings out on speaker.

"hey, babydoll."

at the sound of his boyfriend's voice in real time, a calmness washes over steve as he sinks back into the pillows.

"hi, baby. i got your message."

[puppy-steve]

fourteen hundred hours

don't look at the timezones too closely, the idea of eddie on tour and leaving steve voicemails to wake up to in the morning was too cute to pass up ao3 link

"steeeeeve harrington."

eddie's sleepy voice rumbles away in steve's ear. there's no one else around so steve doesn't bother to hide his grin as he snuggles further under the blankets.

eddie chuckles, breathy and giddy, like he's telling a private joke. "good morning, sweetheart. well, morning for you. sun won't be up here for another–" there's a pause, then a shuffle, and steve can picture eddie rolling over in his hotel bed to look at the alarm clock even though he could just look at his phone, "–five hours, christ alive."

steve's grin turns gooey when eddie lets out a loud yawn into the receiver. he hears the sheets shifting and he has to reel his mind back in from the gutter.

"the boys say i'm stupid for leaving you all these voicemails," eddie tells him once he's comfortable. steve pictures them both laying the same way, facing each other. "they call me whipped every time i pick up my phone, but guess what, stevie?"

he pauses, like he's waiting for an answer.

steve can't help but to whisper back, "what, eds?" into the quiet of their bedroom.

"i miss you so much, sweetheart."

steve feels his heart jump to his throat so suddenly that he almost chokes on it. butterflies erupt in his belly and he can feel himself blushing. his lips wobble with the attempt to not make some embarrassing expression, even though he's the only one in the room.

it's been over a month since they've seen each other in person. photos of their teary eyed send off were still making the rounds on twitter and instagram—steve tucked into eddie's side at the check-in counter with their hands in each other's back pockets, them waiting in line at one of the airport restaurants because the flight was delayed so they had another two hour wait time. the fan video of them making out in a hidden alcove away from the band.

there's been facetime calls, but it doesn't replace the longing need to have eddie physically with him. to kiss him. to hold him. to bury his face in his neck and never let go.

"i don't think i tell you that enough, when i leave," eddie continues, his voice still soft and gravelly from lack of sleep and singing for three hours straight. "but i do. i'm so used to you being the first thing i see when i wake up that i get sad when i open my eyes and you're not beside me."

steve grips the blankets and lets out a pathetic whine, his chest tight.

"i miss holding your hand, i miss being able to kiss you, i miss hearing your laugh and seeing your smile." eddie sighs, deep and sorrowful, and it breaks steve's heart.

he wants to take his love's face in his hands and kiss him until he no longer sounds so sad.

"just fourteen hundred more hours and i'll have you back in my arms. call me after you listen to this, okay? i love you so much."

the voicemail ends and steve sits up, his bedhead wild and unruly. he taps out a message to chrissy asking for the next available flight they could put him on and sighs in relief when she says they can fly him out tomorrow night at the earliest.

mentally going over everything he needs to pack, steve falls back down onto the bed while his phone rings out on speaker.

"hey, babydoll."

at the sound of his boyfriend's voice in real time, a calmness washes over steve as he sinks back into the pillows.

"hi, baby. i got your message."

buy me a ☕?

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Thirty

Couple of things - I've been going through it lately and just wanted to get this bit out. I do have more planned but I need a break after this. The Carpenters song referenced is 'all you get from love is a love song' and if you don't know it you can give it a listen and then you'll get the 'broken arm' joke.

They squish together into the phone booth, Steve hitting the numbers almost on reflex now, going through the motions of briefly speaking to Robin’s mom.

He angles the receiver so that Eddie can hear too, their cheeks practically touching, “Steve! Chrissy’s here-”

“Why?” Eddie cuts her off immediately, “not time to close the shop,” he almost sounds a little critical when he says it, making Steve smile.

“I know I know,” Chrissy says, “but he came back!”

“So we waited for him to leave, and we followed him,” Robin adds enthusiastically.

If Steve couldn’t hear for himself that they’re both at Robin’s place, and they’re both absolutely fine, he’d be panicking now, maybe he kind of is, because he’s sort of snippy when he says, “Robin what the fuck, it’s not safe, you two aren’t- you’re not Cagney and Lacy for fucks sake.”

“Steve it’s fine,” Chrissy tells him, “he went to Starcourt, so we went home and called Hopper right away.”

“Good,” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, “okay, so what now?”

“We don’t know,” Robin admits, “we’re just waiting to hear now. See what happens?”

“Okay we could...Eddie, you want to kill some time in town, and we can call again later?”

“Yeah” Eddie pulls back his sleeve to check his princess watch, “...lunch. And shopping?”

“Sure thing baby.”

Chrissy squeaks down the phone, “oh you’re both just too cute together.”

“Oh my god don’t encourage them.”

“Oh!” Chissy starts, “I met El and all the rest of the kids, isn’t she just, so cool? She made some pens float around!”

“El is the fewest bad kid. She’s quiet,” Eddie agrees, but Steve is absolutely certain Eddie’s warmed to the kids a lot over the last couple of months, so he knows Eddie doesn’t really mean it like that.

“Least,” Steve corrects softly, “she’s the least bad. Probably.”

“Best of a bad bunch?” Robin hazards.

“Maybe,” Eddie tells her, “we can come home soon?”

“Errrr…I mean, see what Hopper says, I guess? We might know later, but you guys shouldn’t come back today anyway, it’s a few hours drive, and you’ll need to pack up and everything, right?”

Steve frowns, as Eddie, very briefly, looks sad, “maybe tomorrow,” he says to Eddie more than the girls, “is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, “I...like the flower shop?”

“You miss it?”

“Yes, and Chrissy. Miss them. I know they’re not gone but...they’re not here.”

“Oh Eddie honey, I miss you too, okay? And when you get back you can come into work, there’s stuff to catch up on,” she whispers then, “Robin isn’t good with the flowers like you.”

“Hey! I’m trying my best here-” but she gives up, everyone else laughing over her.

The payphone starts to beep, “we’ll call later okay!”

Steve’s pretty sure Eddie’s jar will be empty again after today. He’s bought four more records, more Led Zeppelin, plus a Dio record because ‘Rainbow in the Dark’ was playing when they walked in and Eddie really liked it. Steve absolutely certain that the girl with a green Mohawk wearing a Dio shirt sealed the deal, but he's not going to tease Eddie about it.

Eddie comes out of the changing room of the second hand clothes store, showing Steve the jeans he’s trying on. He’s been making do all this time with Steve’s draw string sweats and jeans with a very cinched in belt, so it’s definitely time for Eddie to choose his own things but...Steve wasn’t expecting Eddie to choose anything quite so tight.

“Stevie? What do you think?”

Steve swallows thickly before he answers, he swears Eddie’s only getting away with wearing them because his dicks on the inside, the thing would get strangled otherwise, “you look really good Eds. You like those ones?”

“Yes. Black, like my tail. And look,” Eddie scratches at the ripped fabric, his knees on display, “see my knees. I like to see them, they’re new.”

Steve bites his lips briefly to suppress the chuckle, “you should definitely be proud of those knees, you did grow them yourself.”

Steve frowns at the sight of Eddie in a leather jacket; it’s so very far removed from everything he’s been wearing. It’s so different from all of Steve’s clothes, but Steve can’t deny he’s making it work. It definitely suits the look Eddie’s starting to cultivate. He’s very much leaning towards darker colors, and he was really pleased when he turned up a Led Zeppelin tee shirt out of a pile.

The difference between the Eddie that comes out of the dressing room and the Eddie that went in is startling, Steve’s pullovers and polos all tend to be lighter colors, so all the black is very different.

“You like it?”

“I mean, as long as you like it, sure, you’re the one who has to wear it. But yeah, yeah I do like it. You look good.”

Steve has to stand by while Eddie rummages across a tray of cheap jewellery, “they’ll turn your fingers green,” he warns vaguely. Eddie shrugs, probably not understanding what Steve means as he tries things on, he likes the shiny silver ones that definitely are not silver, “you’re such a magpie.”

Eddie chooses two chunky rings that are so cheap he will get change from his last five dollars, but he clearly likes how they look on his fingers; he doesn’t even take them off to pay for them. Steve knows he’s just here to hold the bags, but he doesn’t mind. Eddie’s worked hard for this money, he should spend it on the things he wants.

Steve meanders through the store, it’s mostly second hand furniture and ‘antiques’, but Steve figures that term is being used very, very loosely. As near as Steve can tell it mostly looks like house clearances and that sort of thing. He spends a little while at the glass cabinets, staring at all the little figurines. 'Dust gatherers,' his dad calls them. There’s some tiny little jade ones, big tall porcelain ones and everything in between.

He’s distracted away from them by the sound of twanging. Bad, uneven twanging on an acoustic guitar. Steve follows the sound, finding Eddie just fiddling with the strings, the guitar still lying on it’s back. It doesn’t have a case, and looks pretty beat to hell to Steve, covered in stickers and all scratched up, but Eddie is entertained by the noises, and he looks up, smiling, “you going to buy it?”

Eddie shakes his head, “not enough left.”

“How much are you short?”

Eddie checks his pocket, and then the little label hanging from the neck, “six dollars?” he hazards.

“Okay, well, I’ve got four left on me, so maybe you can haggle the guy down.”

“I’ll try,” Eddie grins big, taking the change from Steve.

They’ve dropped everything off at the car and, with nothing left to do to kill any more time, they head back to the phone and smush into the booth together.

“He wasn’t there when Hopper got there,” Robin tells them, and Steve sighs, disappointed, “but! El looked into my head real quick, and she says he’s called Doctor Owens. She knew who he was, and she says he’s...nice.”

“Nice,” Steve repeats, deadpan, “a man who facilitated experiments on little kids. Nice.”

“Well...I mean maybe as nice as he could be given the circumstances. I got the impression he never...he wasn’t cruel about it. If you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Steve hazards, “Eddie?”

Next to him, Eddie’s kind of staring into space, frowning, “Owens. Yes. Remember that word, maybe?”

“Okay. Okay, so what are they doing now Robs?”

“Well, Hoppers keeping an eye out and he’s going to try the Motel right now, but if he’s not there he’s going to start doing drive bys of Starcourt and stuff, and hopefully he turns up,” Steve can hear in her voice that she's shrugging, “but Hopper says since no one else is asking any questions, he’s hopeful that it’s just this guy working alone, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah okay.”

Eddie listens to his new record while Steve makes dinner. He has his guitar over his lap, and occasionally plays a note or two. He understood the mechanics of it already, but Steve figures he must have seen someone with a guitar on TV at some point.

Steve’s absorbed in what he’s doing, and doesn’t notice at first that the twanging noises have stopped. The record ends, but it feels like it’s been a long time of quiet, and Steve looks over to find Eddie, expecting him to be flipping it.

He isn’t.

Steve turns off the stove, covering the two pots he’s been carefully nursing. Eddie isn’t in the cabin; Steve finds him on the dock. He’s just...standing there, in the near dark. Just...staring out across the lake.

“Eddie? You okay?”

Eddie looks around again, “heard something. Had to check it’s safe.”

“You could have said,” Steve comes up close, wrapping a hand around Eddie’s hip. Eddie turns in reflexively, looking for a quick, soft kiss, which Steve is happy to give.

“Think the trees look like The Upside Down.”

“Do you?” Steve looks around; all the trees have leaves on, they’re dense and alive and nothing like the dead twisted things that litter The Upside Down, “I don’t think they do.”

Wind moves through the trees, the susurration of leaves is kind of loud, “sounds like bats. Many many bats,” Eddie shifts closer, pressing himself against Steve.

“You okay?”

“I don’t...I think I don’t like it here.”

“Oh...well,” Steve makes a decision, “since they’re pretty sure it’s just the Owens guy, how about we go home tomorrow? I mean, you might not be able to go to work and stuff until they find him-”

“Yes. Home tomorrow.”

Steve looks around again, tries to see it through Eddie’s eyes. Tries to see what reminds him so much of The Upside Down. Maybe the panic attack in the shower knocked some stuff loose; Steve doesn’t know. Eddie’s been making do with strip washing from the bathroom sink the last couple of nights, and that’s been fine but not ideal. Eddie’s hair needs a wash.

“Okay, we’ll call when we go through town, okay, let them know?”

“Yes...take my book back.”

“You finished it?”

“Almost.”

“Lets go inside, I can finish dinner and you can tell me what it’s about?”

“So they’re...stealing treasure from a dragon?” Eddie nods, his mouth full of dinner. “Okay, fair enough.”

Eddie swallows, “I want to read The Lord of The Rings.”

“Okay, I’m sure we can get it at the library.”

“You promise dragons aren’t real?”

“Yup. Definitely not real, and there’s no hobbits or wizards or- or elves or any of that stuff. And magic isn’t real- well. That kind of magic isn’t real, at least,” Eddie frowns like the book committed a crime.

“But...dinosaurs. Dinosaurs were definitely real, you have those in your book?”

“Yes...dragons can fly though. And breathe fire.”

“Well...some dinosaurs could fly, and they were big like a dragon, some of them.”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “I thought from my book like...cow sized?”

“Hu uh,” Eddie excitement is actually palpable, “definitely a dinosaur book next, some of them were like...as tall as trees,” Steve doesn’t actually know, he was most definitely not a dinosaur kid, but he’s pretty sure at least some of them were tall like that.

“All the time, used to do this. When I had a tail,” Eddie’s voice is muffled where he’s bent over the kitchen sink.

“Yeah...I guess I did,” and it’s true, Steve was washing Eddie’s hair pretty much every other day when Eddie still had a tail. He feels the back of Eddie’s head almost reflexively at the memory, following the ghostly, barely there ridges with his fingers through the suds, “it’s getting so long again already.”

“Good. El said Max makes nice braids when it’s long enough.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “oh yeah? That’s going to look great, now eyes and mouth closed, I’m gonna’ rinse.”

Eddie has his head resting on Steve’s tummy while Steve plays with his hair, hand buried in his curls, massaging his scalp, “what you doing baby?”

“Hear.”

“Hear? Oh what, you’re listening?”

“Listening to Stevie’s inside.”

“Anything interesting?”

Eddie nods, his cheek dragging against Steve’s skin, “funny tummy noises. And bumping.”

“Bumping? Oh, beating, my heart right?”

“Yeah. Stevie, we can definitely go home tomorrow?”

“Sure thing babe, we can get packed up in the morning,” Steve yawns, “you want to go to sleep?”

“Maybe. There’s bad dreams here.”

Steve blinks his eyes open to look down, a weird shiver raising goosebumps on his arms, all the way down to where his hand is still buried in Eddie’s hair. Eddie didn’t have to put that quite so creepily. “I think it’s just...maybe it reminds you of things here, so your mind is kind playing tricks on you a little? There’s nothing bad here baby, I promise. What do you think?”

“The water reminds me of Barb.”

Steve frowns, “Barb? How do you know about Barb?” Under Steve’s hand, something crawls unpleasantly beneath Eddie’s skin.

Eddie shrugs, “Nancy told me you killed her.”

“Stevie!” Steve fights, briefly, confused. “Stevie love, it’s okay. Bad dream.”

Steve’s kind of sweaty and panting, but he quickly realizes that it’s Eddie whose holding him, so he quits moving, “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out slowly, trying to calm himself down, “I’m fine. Thanks. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

“You want to tell me? Here, water.” Steve takes the glass, sipping it carefully. He can feel the cool water go down, grounding him.

Steve has no desire whatsoever to talk about it, so he deflects, “what time is it?”

“Five?” Eddie leans over, checking his watch before putting it back, “half five.”

“I miss you saying five and a half, it was cute.”

“I can say five and a half,” Eddie takes the glass again before snuggling in.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. Already awake...bad dreams.”

“Fucking hell. We need to go home just so we can get a good nights sleep. What did you dream about?”

“You. Lost you, in the trees...we were here but...Upside Down trees? I tried and tried to find you. Could hear you, ‘help help,’ really scared.”

“Maybe it is this place,” Steve settles down again, pulling Eddie close, “weird that we’re both having bad dreams right?”

“I don’t like it.”

“No but...lets just rest a little, and then breakfast and we can get packed up, okay?”

“Okay, Stevie love.”

Eddie waits outside the phone booth, leaning against the car where it sits parked by the curb. Steve calls Family Video today, knowing that Robs should be at work, “hey Bird-”

“He got him! Hopper! He got the Owens guy!”

Steve feels himself relax, one less thing to worry about, “good. Good, we’re coming home.”

“Okay, Hopper does think it was just this guy. He was staying at the Motel, Hop had to wait around a bit, like proper stake out!! But he did get him. Said he couldn’t find any evidence of him like, working with other people, and El’s going to talk to him or something. Make sure. I’m not sure about that bit but-”

“Okay, okay, so where is he?”

“Hopper’s got him at the Motel. Probably like, tied up, do you think? Steve what if he’s like, working for the government though. Or or the Russians-”

Steve rubs his forehead, “Birdie, I know you do love some empty speculation-”

“I do!”

“But how about we wait until we actually like, know?”

“Spoil sport.”

They say goodbye and end the call, Steve offering the keys to Eddie, “want to do a little of the driving?”

Eddie grins big, clearly surprised and pleased by the offer, “yes I do!”

“Okay, careful though, you don’t know the roads like at home. And no getting distracted by the cows.”

Eddie ‘moos’ really loudly in response, once in the drivers seat, he pauses for a second, “should have bought tapes,” he laments.

“Well, unlucky, I’m thinking some Carpenters.”

“Nooooo,” Eddie laughs.

“Shut up, I know you love it. Now sing to me about how the best love songs are written with a broken arm.”

“I think that’s what she said! Broken heart makes no sense,” Eddie grumbles, Steve still laughing.

Eddie had caved after two hours of driving, but still, considering all Eddie had done before today is short journeys around Hawkins, Steve figures he did really well in an unfamiliar place, and he told Eddie so. Eddie has turned into a surprisingly careful driver, Steve doesn’t know if it’s his consideration for Steve’s beloved car, or if it’s Steve’s constant reminders that Eddie cannot afford to draw any attention to himself. Either way, Steve feels safe in the passenger seat.

“Okay, I think I should take you home to unpack, then I can figure out how to call Hop and see if I can go over.”

Steve’s not even surprised by Eddie’s response, “both go, you mean.”

“Eddie...I’m not sure it’s-”

“Stevie,” Eddie manages to make it a complete sentence.

“Look...I’m not going to take your choice away, okay, if you want to come, then that’s fine. But...you get I just want you to be safe, right? And I feel like the less this guy knows, the better?”

“I know...I know,” Eddie has his thinking face on, when he’s wrestling with how to say something. It’s been happening a lot less lately, but this concept must be more complicated. “The people had me in a tank. They...hurt me. I was scared. Now...Owens is in the tank? He has to...he has to say why. To me. And sorry.”

“I...is that what you want? For him to apologize? To...explain?”

“Apologize and explain. Yes. And...I will not hurt him. I’m Eddie. I’m not people.”

Steve shouldn’t be surprised, not really. He feels like he knows Eddie inside and out, but his natural compassion, his...kind of innate goodness still blind sides Steve sometimes. Steve had vaguely considered that a realistic outcome of this may be that he’s helping Hopper hide a body. Maybe. It was kind of an abstract thought he hadn’t wanted to poke too hard but, realistically, they’re talking about a man who experimented on children, on Eddie.

Steve is clearly no where near as forgiving.

Hopper meets them both outside the room. Steve has no idea what to expect, really. The rasp of Hopper stubble is loud when he scrubs at his face, “El thinks this Owens guy is legit. He already knows Eddie has,” Hopper gestures vaguely, “human parts.”

“How?”

“After Starcourt happened, he went back to poke about, and he saw you both. More importantly Eddie, driving a car,” Hopper’s words are full of accusation, like ‘see I knew him driving would be trouble.’

Eddie waves a hand dismissively, “I can go in?”

Hopper sighs, but Steve isn’t going to fight Eddie on this. He knows what he wants, and he’s so fucking smart. Steve’s sure Eddie doesn’t fully appreciate the risks, not since he doesn’t get fully grasp how stuff like actual governments work but...yeah. It’s Eddie’s life, but Steve still takes his hand. If they’re doing it, they’re doing it together.

Hopper just sighs and rolls his eyes.

Steve figured that, somehow, this guy would just...look evil. He doesn’t. He looks like a harmless old dude, sitting on the edge of a sagging motel mattress, looking over some papers. He cannot disguise his interest when Eddie walks in.

He’s not restrained or anything, he’s just...there. There are books and pens and folders and shit spread out on the opposite bed, like he’s been working.

“Owens?” Eddie checks.

“Yes. Yes hello it is...so wonderful to see you again. And to hear you speak! How good is your understanding-”

“I think we have questions, first,” Steve cuts him off sharply. He doesn’t seem threatening, just...genuinely pleased to see Eddie. The guy has to be up to something, Steve can’t shake the suspicious thought that the guy must be one hell of an actor.

“Yes. Of course. I have everything, all of my notes, from Starcourt, so any questions you have I will do my best to answer.”

“Okay, where the fuck do you get off experimenting on people?” Steve’s pretty sure his voice is reasonably calm. He’s vaguely aware of Hopper coming in behind them, pulling up a folding chair he must have gotten from his truck.

Owens closes his eyes briefly, before addressing Eddie,“yes. Of course. I am so so sorry for what you were put through but..the work we were doing. I was not fully aware of just how intelligent you were. Are. I didn’t at first fully comprehend that we were even dealing with a sentient specimen-”

“He’s not a specimen, he’s a person,” Steve snaps.

“I am very smart,” Eddie adds helpfully.

“Yes. Yes you are. And the transformation you have undergone is nothing short of miraculous, if I could take some bloods-”

“Absolutely the fuck not. What were you doing with the Russians?”

“Oh,” Owens seems genuinely confused by the question, like it hadn’t really occurred to him, “when the original labs were closed, the funding ended. Of course we were aware of the mirror dimension-”

Eddie looks at Steve, “he means The Upside Down.”

“-Oh, is that what you call it? Well, it was deemed for too dangerous, and not worth the expense, to continue, not after such a catastrophic failure. The Russians however didn’t seem to have any such issues and were interested in opening a gate; I had to go where I could to continue my work, you understand. And then they brought you back with them. What should I call you?”

“Eddie. I’m Eddie.”

“And you’re working? And you’ve learned to speak and drive a car...your ability to process new information is staggering. The physical changes, did they just happen? What was the-”

“Stop, just stop. What do you want with him? Why have you been asking around?”

“Stevie,” Eddie says quietly, pulling Steve back a little by his shirt. And yeah, okay, Steve may have taken a step forward.

“I just...want to continue my studies. Eddie’s change...the differences in his make up, his body’s ability to rewrite itself – it could lead to...well, significant discoveries. The data I could gather, imagine the effect on modern medicine, what we might achieve – the potential to help people could be immeasurable.”

“We could...help people?” Eddie echoes.

“Yes, well. We could try. Like I said I would have to do some tests to understand-”

“No,” Steve crosses his arms over his chest.

Next to him, Eddie asks quietly, “what tests?”

“Just...take some blood, for now. Just try to understand how this happened and...what the changes mean on a genetic level.”

“Look, Eddie, you do not have to do a single thing for this guy, okay? This could be dangerous, they could come and take you away again-”

“I would most certainly like to avoid just that,” Owens interjects.

“Oh yeah, right. Sell me on that then,” Steve snaps at him.

“Look,” Owens spreads his hands, he hasn’t moved from his seat on the bed, “I’m the only one who knows about this. The little contact I’ve had with my previous...employers implies that they’re done with the site, they’ve scrubbed the remains of Starcourt, it’s already being filled in. I only know you even exist because I just happened to see you. No one knows Eddie is alive right now, that he didn’t die in his tank, except for me. If I tell anyone they will take him, potentially back to Russia, and I’ll loose access to him. If I inform the American team, I’ll have to admit that I was working for the Russians, which would cause some obvious fall out for me. This way I can just…continue with my work.”

Steve rubs his eyes. It sounds...legit. He guesses. Logical. “Hopper?”

“El says he’s on the level.”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve huffs, walking in a circle.

“Stevie? I want to help people.”

“I know you do baby.”

“Oh, are you two in a relationship-”

Steve finds himself leaning over to point in Owens face, “do not.”

“Okay, okay,” Owens spreads his hands, “look, I think you need to see this from the other side too. What if Eddie gets sick? What are you going to do, take him to the doctor? And what about El, and her powers? What if something comes up with her? I’m more than happy to-”

“I’m sure you are,” Steve stops him, “and you agree with that Hop?”

“I mean, he’s got a point. Don’t think we could take Eddie to a regular doctor, and El was fine with letting him look her over. I mean I maybe don’t agree with the shit he’s been involved in but...I don’t currently have a lot of choice with getting my kids brain powers looked at.”

“I don’t like it.”

Hopper shrugs, “nope.”

“This is such a bad plan.”

“Not as bad as-”

“Don’t you dare-” Steve starts.

“Letting some fish guy-”

“Hopper!” Eddie adds, affronted.

“Bite your toes off.”

[adverbally]

Just Try to See in the Dark

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Childhood” | wc: 1,263 | rated: T | cw: references to physical (nonsexual) child abuse and neglect, including description of injuries inflicted by a parent | tags: teacher steve, steve and eddie’s shitbag dads, hurt/comfort, shoutout to all the awesome teachers out there | title from “Close to Me” by The Cure

And with this, I’m officially caught up, just in time for the halfway point of the month! I appreciate everyone who has read and interacted with my work so far. I haven’t written this much in years and it’s all because of contributions from viewers like you. Thank you 💕

———

When Steve gets home from work, almost an hour later than usual, he goes straight into their bathroom and shuts the door.

Eddie watches him go. It’s not unusual after a long day. Sometimes Steve just wants to take a hot shower and start his evening fresh. But after half an hour, the water hasn’t turned on and Eddie is starting to worry.

He hovers outside the bathroom door for several minutes, unsure if he should check on Steve. It doesn’t sound like he’s moving around, which makes a dark corner of Eddie’s mind worry that he’s hurt. What if he fell? What if he wasn’t feeling well and something is really wrong?

It’s that terrifying prospect that finally forces Eddie to rap on the door. “Stevie?”

“Come in,” comes the muffled response.

Eddie opens the door carefully so he doesn’t accidentally hit Steve, but Steve is sitting fully-clothed in the empty bathtub on the other side of the room. “Hi, sweetheart,” Eddie greets him as he comes to sit on the closed toilet lid.

Steve has his knees tucked up to his chin, arms wrapped around his shins. He turns his head sideways so he can speak more clearly. “I had to call Child Services.”

Jesus. Steve loves his class of second graders like they’re his own children. To have to report some kind of abuse to one of them… no wonder Steve went straight to the peace and quiet of the bathtub. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

His eyes are dry, but Steve still rubs at his nose with the back of his wrist. “Yeah. Samantha. She had…” He gestures vaguely at his neck. “She usually has bruises somewhere, you know, she’s seven. But today she had actual fingerprints...”

Eddie drops to his knees on the rug next to the tub and gets his arms around Steve right as he starts to shake.

“And when I asked her about it, she just said, ‘He didn’t mean to!’ Like you can accidentally choke your own kid hard enough to leave marks like that.” Steve sniffs. “But he’s her dad and she loves him.”

With that, he buries his face in his knees and lets Eddie hold him.

Steve has always struggled with this part of being a teacher, even while he was working on his degree. Eddie can still see it so clearly, Steve pacing around the tiny dining table in their first apartment, ranting about mandatory reporting.

“You know what would’ve happened to me if a teacher said anything? My dad would’ve made us all smile and pretend everything was fine, and he would’ve beat the shit out of me as soon as the investigator left!” Steve had slammed his fist on the countertop as he passed.

“But we’re supposed to report immediately once we have reason to suspect abuse. Don’t take the time to make sure the kid is safe, don’t look at the broader pattern of incidents, just…” He had run out of breath there and couldn’t catch it for several minutes once he started crying, not out of sadness or worry but frustration.

It’s not frustration that drives Steve to tears now. It’s grief and fear for Samantha, for a younger version of himself, for the consequences of what the law requires of him.

“You’ve been looking out for her for a long time,” Eddie murmurs, chin hooked over Steve’s shoulder. The edge of the tub is digging into his side but he’ll be damned if he lets go of Steve right now. “This just confirms that your instincts were right. And hopefully now she’s gonna get help.”

“I’m scared that I just put her in a worse situation,” Steve admits, raising his head enough to wipe his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. “She shouldn’t have to deal with all this, she’s just a kid.”

Eddie vaguely remembers something about Sammy’s mom not being in the picture. “She can’t stay with an abusive parent just because she loves him. That’s why children don’t get to make the decisions here.”

Steve shakes his head. “But when she’s stuck in a foster home because of me—”

“Nuh-uh-uh, don’t even go there.” He ducks his head to look Steve in the eye. “She’s gonna be safe because of you. She’s gonna go home from school and not have to worry about her dad hurting her anymore. That’s huge.” He knows they can both understand that.

“I wish there was something else I could do,” Steve sighs.

“Just keep being the best second grade teacher in the state. Keep paying attention and listening to the kids. That’s what they need from you.”

Steve tilts his head to rest against Eddie’s shoulder. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“It’s more than you think.” Eddie kisses his temple, runs his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I had a teacher in fifth grade, Ms. Martin. It was, like, the year after my mom died, and I wasn’t coping at all. My dad was barely around to drop off some food for me once in a while. I was a nightmare student. Stole from the other kids, slept during lessons, started fights at recess.”

“It’s hard to care about school with stuff like that going on at home,” Steve says. Even now, he’s defending Eddie against shit that happened twenty years ago.

“Luckily for me, Ms. Martin understood that, too. She knew I was smart and I liked to draw, so she would assign me little projects. Stuff like illustrating a scene from the book we were reading or drawing a diagram of the parts of a plant or whatever. She let me work in her classroom at lunch and after school. Every day, she brought me a sandwich and a snack so I didn’t have to sneak food out of someone else’s lunchbox.”

Steve sits up to look at him with the most heartbroken expression. “Ed, that’s— she sounds incredible.”

“Yeah. She might not have fixed things for me outside of the classroom, but she made being at school a thousand times more bearable. Just by giving a shit.” He grins up at Steve. “Like you.”

“You know you do that kind of stuff, too, right? Like when you donated all those old dice sets for D&D Club, and when you helped me make Valentines for the whole class so nobody would feel left out. And when you delivered the pizzas for the Halloween party. And—“

Eddie hangs his head in an imitation of bashfulness. “I’m just your humble sidekick. All of that was your idea.”

“Then thank you for helping me make school more bearable for my kids.” Steve takes Eddie’s face between his big, gentle hands and kisses his forehead before angling his head back so their lips align.

“It’s my pleasure.” Eddie pushes himself to his feet with a groan as his knees creak. “Fuck, I’m getting to old to sit on the floor.”

Steve holds both hands out to Eddie, arms fully outstretched as if asking him to pull him upright. When Eddie doesn’t move, he whines, “C’mon, my ass is asleep. At least you were on the cushy rug!”

With a put-upon sigh, Eddie heaves Steve to his feet. “Shower first or food? I made meatballs.”

“Meatballs!” Steve throws his arms around Eddie’s neck, mostly for balance as he steps out of the bathtub. “You really do love me,” he fawns, batting his lashes for effect.

“You’re okay, I guess.” Before Steve can object, Eddie darts in for a quick kiss and darts off. “Wash up, dinner’s in five!”

[minispidey]

if you do one shots, could you do one where bimbo gf (reader) and steven get halloween costumes. i’ll try to explain best i can, but reader puts bag of their costumes in the bathroom . reader got a playboy bunny, but it is still in the bag. reader tells steven to change into costume but steven gets confused and changes into the playboy bunny one and is very flustered. ik this is a very long request but i NEED more bimboxsteven

YOU'RE A BUNNY, DUH!

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader.

warnings: suggestive content, bimbo is really horknee okay??

a/n: hi babes! ty for requesting this! had to do this before october ended for halloween because duhhh it's halloween! i had such a huge writer's block (plus i got sick) and this is as good as i can write at the moment. again, ty for the request! so sorry it's short!

If there's a season your little bimbo heart loved more than spring, it's definitely autumn. The smell of the fresh cold air, the pumpkins, the leaves falling down on your hair, and of course— halloween.

It was your first halloween in London. You planned like crazy to have the best night ever with your boyfriend (which consisted of non stop fucking in your flat at first) and bought costumes for you two to hit up a couple pubs.

Knowing how shy Steven is when it came to how sexy you are, you wanted to wear something revealing. You wanted to drive him crazy and make him fuck you right there at that very moment he looks at you.

"Stevie!" your voice boomed in his flat, following the sound of you shutting his door "I'm back, baby!"

"I'm in bed, love!" he responded. Steven sets his book down and takes off his glasses, watching you walk towards him.

"Hi, Stevie. I missed you so much!" you straddled him and cupped his face "I got your costume~"

"You went shopping for three hours, love. I'm just here. I could've come with you if you wanted." Steven then rests his head in between your breasts, taking in your scent.

"Why don't you go try it on? It's in the bathroom. I'll show you mine later."

"It's that much of a surprise that you left it in the loo? Is it naughty?"

"Later." you began to squeal when Steven began blowing raspberries into your breasts "Stevie! I promise, later!" you giggled before playfully pushing him away.

Steven laughed at your reaction and smiled at you "Alright, alright. If you got me a ghost face costume, you're in for a rough night."

"I'm counting on it~"

"Cheeky."

Steven got up and watched as you lied down in his previous position and smiled. He walked inside the bathroom and closed the door behind me before digging into the pink shopping bag.

His eyebrows furrowed before his eyes widened "What the..." he takes out a pink corset and pink silk panties, along with pink stockings.

"She has to be kidding." Marc says from the headspace. Steven looks up into the mirror to find Marc judging him "No way are we coming out of this place wearing that."

"Come on, she probably looked for it for hours... I don't wanna make her sad..."

"Honesty is the best policy."

"Honesty hurts people sometimes." Steven sighed before taking his shirt off.

"You're serious?!"

"Stevie? You've been in there a while considering all you needed to wear was a sheet and a mask..." you knocked on the bathroom door before pacing back and fourth again, waiting.

The lock of the door clicked and the door opened wide, Steven stepping out in a pink playboy bunny costume, complete with a bunny tail and ears.

You covered your mouth and held in your laugh "Steven?"

"Does it look bad?"

"No no! It's just that..." you giggled "That's actually mine."

"Wait what?" Steven's eyes widened.

You walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck "But you know... you look so fucking hot..." you breathed into his neck. Your left leg hooked behind his leg and you started placing kisses along his collar bone.

"L-Love?"

"I want you to fuck me. Right here right now."

Steven froze for a moment before slowly nodding and started to pull down the silk panties and stockings. Your hand stopped him.

"The costume stays on, Stevie... take your cock out."

[superblysubpar]

potentially very silly thought that’s been on my mind for forever so feel free to ignore! but stevie has glasses right? but he never wears them bc he doesn’t like how they look/doesn’t believe he really needs them (spoiler: he does). imagine dad!steve’s little baby comin back from the doctor and needing specs :( and his kid is all sad bc they think they’ll get bullied and that they look silly, but dad!steve puts on his like “see? glasses are cool, bud!” and they wear them together <3

dad!steve harrington x mom!fem! reader

a How Sweet It Is story

summary: steve's kiddo doesn't want to get glasses | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is

1.7kwords

Spring, 1993:

Steve rubbed at his forehead as he stirred the spaghetti sauce on the stove. Grace had fought him for hours, screaming and crying and throwing toys at him. He knew that all she needed was a nap but she refused, insisted that she wasn’t tired and wailed with a set of lungs that gave her Uncle Eddie a run for their money. He’s used to headaches by now though - too many hits to the head over the years and what felt like a constant squint to see things clearer, toddler tantrums were nothing when it came to the things that caused him headaches. 

But that didn’t mean he wanted her to wake up anytime soon. So when the loud crack of the front door handle hitting the wall pulled him from his thoughts he rushed out of the kitchen, hushing loudly. Whisper-shouting to you and your oldest, “Hey, hey, Grace is finally asleep!”

Nora kicked the wall as she tried to take off her shoes and coat at the same time, a flourish and frenzy of tiny grunts and zippers clicking together. Yellow dots on her sneakers lighting up and the yellow of her rain coat a fast moving blur - yellow was the color, or so he’s been told repeatedly by her in the last two weeks. He looked past his yellow blob of movement to see you slowly following her up the steps, rubbing your temple. 

Oh boy.

Nora was six. Opinionated and strong and curious. Sometimes she shocked them with her big ideas and her logic-searching questions, but every once in a while they were reminded she was in fact, a kid. A tiny human with too big of feelings and not always the right words to describe them. Right now, he’d bet money on some very large feelings bubbling up inside of her, and he just didn’t know if he could handle another tantrum. Her brown curls a mess like she’d run her hands through them too many times (a habit you’ve pointed out she picked up from him before she could walk), her face flushed and her jaw clenched, tiny hands trying to get her coat off too quickly and a furrow between her brows when it wouldn’t cooperate. 

Steve bent down to her level, hands reaching out towards her, "Hey cutie, slow down. Let me help-"

"No! I can do it myself!" tiny hands forming fists and a fury behind her eyes that would be alarming if she wasn't so small and cute. This was another new development - dad yellow is the color of the moment and oh by the way I’m a big girl now. It’s a lot for a dad to wrap his head around. 

Steve raised his hands up in surrender, "Okay, sure."

As you closed the door softly, Steve looked up and mouthed, "What happened?"

You gestured to your eyes, forming glasses with your fingers as you mouthed the word at the same time. 

His brow furrowed because why in the world would she be so upset about glasses? Heart breaking that she’s obviously incredibly worked up about something that isn’t really an argument if she needs them. 

As she flung her coat to the ground and went to stomp around it he snaked his arm around her waist, "Oh no you don't,” she huffed and crossed her arms as he squeezed her waist, “Nora, what's wrong?"

"I don't want them!" she cried out, stomping her foot against his thigh as he stood up holding her.

Steve pushed a stray curl from her forehead, faking obliviousness, "Don't want what? You gotta catch dad up here."

Her chin wobbled as she looked anywhere but at his face and his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. How can she hate glasses so much? She’s six! 

Nora clings to his neck as he goes back to the kitchen, the heat turned down and stirring it once more as they sat in silence, her little huffs of frustration mixing with the bubbling sauce. He’d wait patiently until she wanted to tell him. You followed wordlessly behind, pulling down a cup for water and setting it across from him. Steve’s arm supported under her butt and he leaned against the counter to face you. 

Nora spoke finally, quietly and forced out of her pouting lips, "Glasses."

Steve rubbed her back with one hand, cheek resting on top of her head and sighed. She was way too big to hold like this anymore, and he missed it. 

"Baby, why don't you want glasses, huh? Lots of people wear glasses,” you questioned softly from your spot at the otherside of the counter. 

Nora mumbled into his neck, "Daddy doesn’t like them. People make fun of glasses."

Steve made eye contact with you over the top of her head, swallowing harshly and blinking away tears. A small and sad smile rested on your lips. You leaned your chin into your palm and sighed, raising your eyebrows at him. 

His heart dropped into his stomach as he set her down on the counter and cleared his throat, “I love my glasses, what are you talking about?”

Nora shook her head quickly, curls flying everywhere, a deep breath as crocodile tears fell down her cheeks. Voice wobbly and on the cusp of some big sobs ready to break as she spoke rushed and loudly, “No. No you do-n’t. Mommy, you, y-you told Mommy that…that…” she hiccuped but pushed on, “Losers wear glasses. And, and Jacob…hims said…he…people who wear glasses are weird and, and…”

As Nora kept going Steve clenched his fists against the counter. He’d take back any and every thought he’d had about glasses if he could. He could throw up from the guilt swirling in his stomach, that he was somehow a part of the reason his little girl was so worked up about something she needed. Something so tiny and materialistic. He’d fix this. He had to fix this. 

“Woah, woah, who’s this Jacob kid and what does he know, huh?” He kissed the top of her head, pushing curls from her face that clung to her wet cheeks.

“Jacob, daddy,” she sighed his name out, bored and exasperated like Steve should know while she hiccuped again.

Steve nodded, face serious as he snapped his fingers and you smiled from behind her, “Right, that Jacob. Okay, but babe, Jacob doesn’t know what he's talking about. He doesn't know the super special secret."

Nora's hands swiped at her cheeks, "Secret?"

Nodding he chucked the side of his knuckle under her chin and handed her the glass of water, "Super special secret."

Nora's eyes went wide above the rim of the cup and you bit the inside of your cheek as Steve nodded and leaned in, "Only people who wear glasses get to know the super special secret," he glanced at you, “Oh, and mommy’s.” 

"Tell me," Nora whined, fidgeting and tugging at his shirt.

"Well, the secret is, is that people who wear glasses are super duper crazy awesome. They can see better, like superhero vision,” the small white lies building as her smile grew and he spoke with his hands, “And because they can see better they can read faster and get smarter. They can see so good with their glasses that they can sneak into the kitchen in the dark for late night snacks and-"

You made a disgruntled noise from the back of your throat and shook your head, mouthing the word no, but tried to hide your smile. 

Steve grinned wider at you but Nora frowned, not buying it. Too smart for her own good as she countered, "But, daddy, you don't wear your glasses. And you said lose-"

"You're right, I did say that,” he bit the inside of his cheek and ran his hand through his hair before waving them around, “But that's because I didn't want anyone to know how cool the super special secret is. But now," he leaned in and kissed her forehead, "I can wear mine all the time because I'm not alone! We can be crazy awesome together."

"Really?" Nora looked up at him, wide eyed and hopeful and he had to blink back tears again. 

"Really, really," he brushed the last stray tear slipping down her cheek, "Go grab mine for me and we can head to the store and pick out yours together."

He lifted her and set her down and she raced away. Steve fell forward onto the counter, moaning as he pressed his forehead to the cold tile. 

He listened as you stood, holding his breath until he felt your arms wrapping around his waist. A kiss between his shoulder blades before he spun to face you. 

He pressed his nose into your cheek as you whispered, “Good job, dad.”

He huffed, not unsimilar to his daughter and mumbled, "I hate my glasses."

You hummed, running your hands up his back before speaking, "I love your glasses,” you laughed and kissed his jaw, voice laced with fake shock and wonder, “And why would you hate them? Didn't you hear the super special secret, Steve?"

Moved to your neck, he grumbled, "Ugh, I'm gonna punch that Jacob in the face."

A laugh bubbled out of you as you squeezed his waist, a kiss to his temple as you reminded him, "He's six, Steve."

"Right. Well. Maybe his dad then," he kissed your neck and removed himself as tiny feet raced back down the hall.

"Woah! You're right daddy! I can see crazy awesome!"

He stood up fully to see Nora zooming around the corner with his glasses on her face too big and dangerously close to falling completely off and you covered your smile with your hand.

He swiped the glasses from Nora and slid them up his own nose. Picking her up he smiled and asked, "Should we go pick out yours now?"

Nora nodded excitedly and bounced up and down once her feet were back on the floor, energy radiating off of her as he tied her shoes and zipped her coat. 

When they returned home, she nearly broke his arm, she was tugging so hard, "Mommy! Mommy! Look, look, look!"

You came around the corner holding his sleepy toddler and grinned, "Woah! Yellow! Crazy awesome!"

As he turned to close the door Nora beamed and shouted, "Daddy said the yellow was even more super special because yellow would help me see the cookies waay on the top shelf better."

Steve bit his lip as he spun to face you shaking your head, a smile twitching on your lips. He shrugged and stole Grace out of your arms with a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled, “Yellow is the best color, mom.”

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

[bugsmunched]

"Love you too, Sugar " - Steve Rogers X GN! Reader

WC: 825

Warnings: sickeningly sweet fluff

Summary : Steve refuses to let you go in the morning.

--------

You blinked slowly, the bright light of the sun hitting your eyes as the startling sound of your alarm filled your ears. Your boyfriend never understood why your alarm HAD to be so ‘alarming’, even though you had explained to him a multitude of times that you could easily sleep through a hurricane. As you shifted to sit up, a warm, muscled arm wrapped around your torso, keeping you effectively pinned to the mattress. 

“Stevie…” You murmured softly, turning your head to face your boyfriend-  a very sleepy Captain America. You wiggled your arm out from under his grasp and gently pushed away a few blonde strands from his face so you could see his eyes, that was a mistake.  You could now see his piercing blue eyes, looking up at you with all the sadness - albeit mostly fake sadness- in the world. 

“Steve, honey bunches, I’ve got work today.” You murmured affectionately, placing your hand on the side of his face, which he promptly nuzzled into. You couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend’s actions. He was quite like a clingy golden retriever puppy, especially on days where he had nothing to do and you had work. 

“You don’t need to go to work, I make enough to provide for us both…” The stubborn blonde murmured softly in return, nuzzling into your hand. 

“What do you expect me to do when you’re at work, sweet thing? This job may drive me insane, but it also keeps me sane when you’re away on missions,” You explained softly, pulling your hand away from his face which left the strong man whining. 

He wrapped both arms around you in protest, pulling you close to his chest and refusing to let go. Your face was situated between his pecs, a place you wouldn’t normally mind being, except that you had to be at work in about an hour or so, so you needed to start getting ready. “Steven Grant Rogers.” You said sternly against his chest. 

“Y/n M/n L/n” He said back in a sing-songy tone. 

“Sweetheart, I need to take a shower and get ready for work, as much as I would love to stay nestled here all day, I really can’t.” You said in a stern, yet gentle voice. Reluctantly, Steve let you free from his arms, a pout clear on his face. 

“Awe, don’t make that face…” You said softly, playfully hitting his shoulder. “You know I’ll be back! It’s not like I’m leaving forever, sweetheart. “ You said as you sat up, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “But thank you for being good and letting me go. I love you.”

Steve smiled a bit at the praise, that was always his soft spot. “ Love you too, sugar.” He said softly, pulling you in for a quick kiss before letting you go. 

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

As you made your way out of the bathroom, hair freshly dried and new, clean clothes on, you smiled a bit as the scent of fresh breakfast hit your nose. Steve always loved to spoil you with the promise of fresh breakfast. Today it seemed like it was french toast, sausage, and eggs. 

You walked into the kitchen and the sight before you made you smile: Steve was standing there in an apron overtop his gray sweats and bare chest, plating up two plates of food as soft music played over a bluetooth speaker you had gotten him a while back. “Smells delicious my love.”

“Delicious enough for you to stay?” He asked with a cute little smile as he cocked his head to the side. 

“Unfortunately not, baby.” 

“Dagnabbit,” he said in a playful little voice, slapping his knee in fake frustration. 

“Dagnabbit? Sometimes I forget that you are simply very old.” 

“Very old? Why you little-” He started as he placed the food down on the counter and made his way over to you, grabbing you by the waist. “brat.” he finished in a teasing voice, grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a very gentle and loving kiss that simply made you melt. 

Your knees got a little weak and you felt like your teeth were going to rot out of your head from how sweet that kiss was. Soon enough, your beloved old man pulled away, just holding you in his tight grasp for a moment longer, before finally letting you go and walking over to the table. 

He pulled out your chair, allowing you to sit down before he brought over the food, sitting down across from you as he always did- with about 3 times the amount of food that you had for himself. That’s one thing about the super human serum, it always made him incredibly hungry. 

You sat in silence for a few moments, just eating your food before you hummed in delight, looking over at your super soldier boyfriend. “ I love you so much Steve. “

“I love you too, sugar.” 

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 25

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Em has trouble handling the breakup when Jamal shows up with bad news.

Tags : ANGST, Comfort

MARSHALL’S POV 

The hardest part about grieving his relationship with Y/N was that he didn’t really have anyone to talk to about it, since they hardly told anyone. The only people who knew about the breakup were Talia, Jamal and Hailie. For obvious reasons, he didn’t feel like telling his daughter how sad he was over a relationship she didn’t approve of. Jamal had actually reached out a couple of times, saying that he was sorry it was over with Y/N and that he was here if he needed to talk, but seeing as he was his ex’s roommate, Marshall didn’t feel too comfortable with the idea. 

Ever since the breakup, a couple weeks ago, he was in a state of constant mood swings : he would find himself in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling for hours, before being overcome by anger, followed by deep sadness. He was fifty-one, feeling like a heart-broken teenager, lonely and sad in a huge house whose every corner reminded him of Y/N. It was the most depressing place in the world and yet, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. This led him to do something extremely out of character : canceling studio sessions for two weeks and staying in bed most of the time. He also dodged most calls and failed to answer texts - not that he was too good at keeping up with it anyway. Most of the time, he wondered where Y/N was at, what she was doing, how she was feeling. The sadness he had seen in her eyes as they parted ways haunted him. 

It was sunday and, as usual, he was having his kids and their significant others over for family brunch. He tried his best to put on a happy face but to no avail. 

Dad ? Are you even listening to me ? Stevie asked, interrupting his train of thoughts. 

Sorry, I wasn’t, he admitted. Mind repeating ? 

I was thinking of getting a pet snake. I just don’t know which one yet. 

That made him chuckle for the first time in a week. Stevie and pets - a greater love story than most. 

Don’t you have enough of a zoo ? He asked. It’s a lot of work. And don’t forget school. 

I know, Dad. “School is important, blah, blah, blah”, she gestured imitating him. 

Well it’s my job to remind you, he shrugged. Anyway, don’t count on me for pet-sitting. 

Me neither, Hailie said with a hint of disgust. 

Neither, Alaina chimed in. 

Fine, Stevie said as she rolled her eyes. 

Marshall went back to his thoughts, letting his kids argue about what kind of unusual pet was the worst : spiders or snakes. He thought about Y/N and how she would feel about the debate, knowing full-well that she had a phobia of both. 

It’s probably not too wise to have a pet snake with a baby on the way, though, Stevie said. 

This caused Marshall to spit his orange juice. 

You’re pregnant ?! He blurted out. 

Now we’ve got your attention, she said with a grin as everyone laughed. I’m kidding. 

Very funny, he said sarcastically. Thanks for the heart attack by the way. I’m not ready to be a grandpa just yet. 

You do know that Hailie and I are older than you when you became a Dad, right ? Alaina asked. 

True, he hummed. Stevie is not, though. You can’t have a baby, you’re still one. 

I’m 21, she said as she rolled her eyes. But relax, I don’t want kids anyway. 

That’s my girl, he said with a smile. 

All I’m saying is that you could be a grandpa someday soon, Alaina continued. Now that we’re married, Matt and I might decide to start trying. 

You’d be good parents, he said with a smile. I mean, I’ll never be ready for that day, but I guess a new addition to the family would be welcome. Not a snake, though. 

How about you ? Stevie asked. 

What about me ? He hummed. 

Well you broke up with Nicole months ago, but maybe you’ll be the one bringing someone new to the family, she said. We’re out of the house and we don’t want you to be lonely, right ? I swear, it feels like you’re not even trying… 

He stared at Hailie who tried to hide a scoff by faking a cough. Obviously, she had been true to her words and hadn’t told her sisters anything - not that there was anything to say anymore… 

Let’s put it this way, he sighed. There’s more chances of me getting a pet snake than bringing a lady into this family. 

His tone was dry and sarcastic. Now that Y/N was gone, he felt like he might actually end up alone. But in the end, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be with anyone if he wasn’t with her. The perspective of even holding the hand of someone else was rebutting to him. Hailie looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

We’re short on pancakes, she said. I’ll make some. Help me in the kitchen, Dad ? 

That was a lame excuse, but he followed her anyway. 

What’s wrong with you ? She asked with a worried face once they were alone. 

Nothing, he said. 

Dad… You haven’t paid attention all day, you look like you haven’t slept in ages and you implied that there’s nothing going on in your love life when we both know it’s not true, she stated. 

There’s nothing going on anymore, Hay, he said dryly. Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I would appreciate it if you waited for me to leave the kitchen before you do some happy dance of celebration. 

Don’t snap at me, she said as her eyebrows furrowed. 

Sorry, he said as he pinched the area between his eyes. You’re right. I am tired and I shouldn’t be taking it out on anyone. 

So… It’s over ? She asked calmly. 

Yeah. 

He didn’t bother commenting on the circumstances of the breakup. 

Want to talk about it ? She offered. 

I’m good, he said as he took her in his arms. I just need some rest. I’m taking a small break from recording, that’ll do me some good. 

I thought you were close to being done with the new album ? 

It can wait, he said. I need to chill for a bit. 

I’m worried for you, Dad… 

Don’t. I’ll get over it, he said. 

“Chickens they come they go”, she playfully sung his lyrics. 

Thanks for quoting the clean version, he chuckled. 

They shared a laugh. In this moment, he was grateful for his family and especially his daughters. 

6 WEEKS LATER

The two week break ended up turning into a month and a half long one. He came up with various excuses but in the end, it didn’t really matter. He didn’t feel like seeing anyone besides his family and he was in no mood to work anyway. Everytime he tried to write something, it felt like a disaster. His inspiration seemed to have run dry. 

However, his friends were persistent and, once they understood that he was definitely screening the calls, they took turns showing up at his place to make sure he was alright. The official version was that he was a bit burnt-out. He was not sure if he should come clean about his breakup. He was starting to feel the need to talk about it, to talk about Y/N. She had tried to call him a couple of times but he did not pick up. Not that he didn’t want to, though. He just knew it would hurt too much.

Jamal had also reached out a couple more times but Marshall did not answer. He thought his friend got the hint, but he ended up showing up unannounced, late one night. 

Anyone dies ? Marshall asked after greeting him. 

Might as well be you, Jamal answered. We haven’t heard from you in ages, man. And no offense, but you look deceased, too. 

Well… You know. 

They stared at each other in agreement. 

Can I come in ? His friend finally asked. I brought you some stuff. 

You didn’t have to, man. 

It’s just a pack of red bull, food Talia made for you, some beats for you to listen to and a care package. 

A care package ? Marshall asked amused. What are you ? My great-aunt ? 

Actually, it’s from Y/N. 

Oh, he simply said. 

He gestured for Jamal to come in and they went to the living room. 

Thank Talia for me, he said as he rummaged through the bags his friends had brought. 

Will do. 

Should I wait for you to leave to open the mystery package ? He asked. 

Up to you, man, Jamal said. I mostly came to check up on you. We’re all worried about you. 

I appreciate it, man. Thanks. I’m good. I just need some time to adjust, you know ? He said. 

I bet, Jamal replied. It’s going to be weird, not having her hanging out at the studio anymore. We all got used to her being there. 

Well, we decided to remain friends, Marshall explained. So, she’s welcome anytime. I know everyone loves her and I don’t want it to be weird. 

Jamal looked at him with a confused expression. 

You really have unplugged, haven’t you ?

Sort of, yeah. Why ? 

His friend kept on staring at him for a few seconds. It was uncomfortable and it felt as if he was about to tell him that a zombie apocalypse had erupted. 

Man, I don’t know how to tell you this but…. She’s gone, Jamal said. 

What do you mean ? Marshall asked. 

Shit. I thought you knew, or at least that you had a vague idea… I know you didn’t pick up her calls, but she tried to text you. Several times, his friend explained. 

What does it fucking mean ? He asked as he was starting to lose his patience. What do you mean she’s gone ?! 

We drove her to the airport this afternoon, man. She’s moving back to France. She just handed her doctoral dissertation and she pulled something to convince them to let her do the defense thing remotely. 

Why would she do that ? Marshall scoffed. 

Dude, she’s a mess, Jamal said. She wouldn’t get out of her room for days. She barely ate, didn’t sleep. Talia had to help her showering and shit. We almost sent her to a psych ward. She stopped talking for weeks. 

Why didn’t you call me ?! He asked angrily. Why am I just finding out now ? 

She made me swear not to, man. She couldn’t face you. When she took the decision to move back, we convinced her to let you know, but I guess you didn’t see the texts… 

She’s… gone ? Marshall asked again, in disbelief. 

Yeah. You should check the package, Jamal said. When she didn’t get any response from you, she prepared it and told me to give it to you once she was gone. I have no idea what’s in there, though. 

Marshall wasted no time and tore up the carefully wrapped bow to unveil what was inside. There were a bunch of envelopes and two presents. 

I can leave you to it, if you want, Jamal offered. 

I don’t mind, Marshall shrugged as he kept on staring at the content of the box. Fuck. I had no idea she would fucking leave… 

He went back to his unboxing. He opened a first envelope, that contained a few pictures of them, that she had printed : a selfie of the whole crew, taken on the first day they met - she was shyly posing next to him as he flipped the camera -, two picture from their time in the hospital - a selfie of her as she pointed to him asleep in a chair next to her bed and a selfie of the two of them laying in bed next to each other - as well as the selfies they had taken as a couple. He looked at the pictures for a long time, failing to believe he wouldn’t see that face again and that she was in a whole different time zone. 

In the second envelope was a printing of the “acknowledgement” section of her dissertation. Everyone she knew from the studio was listed by name, including him, who had a whole paragraph that read “To MBMIII, thank you for welcoming me with open arms and believing in me. This work would not have been possible without your help and encouragement. Thank you for inspiring me to believe in my dreams and to lose myself in the moment and own it. In doing so, I found inspiration but also who I am. I am forever grateful for you, more than words will ever convey”. He read the paragraph at least ten times. He couldn’t believe she had actually quoted his lyrics to thank him. This made him smile and almost tear up. His heart was swelling with pride for her finally being done with her work, as well as sadness. 

The third envelope contained a handwritten letter : 

“Dear Marshall, 

By the time you read this, I will most likely be back in France. I wish I had the chance to say goodbye in person, but you wouldn’t pick up the phone. I am not sure why, but I guess I can’t blame you. Leaving Detroit, a place I have called home for the past few years has been a tough decision - probably the hardest one after leaving you. I knew I would have to go back home eventually, but I decided to leave early because I cannot see straight anymore. Every street, every corner, every stone reminds me of you. I cannot sleep in this bed knowing I won’t wake up next to you. I cannot keep breathing and existing in all the places you made me feel seen, loved and appreciated, knowing I can’t feel you near. Every little thing is a reminder of what once was and will not be again. And being reminded that I once had everything and lost it is too much pain. But in truth, I am not writing this letter to complain, but to say thank you. You walked into my life when I needed support, and you gave me exactly what I needed : love, encouragement and inspiration. Meeting you is one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I will forever be grateful. Your generosity and everything that you are takes my breath away. But as I am writing this letter, I am reminded that I am only human, in desperate need of oxygen. I need to leave because I have to save myself from drowning. I cannot allow myself to hope that you will reach for me, as I foreswore that right - if I ever had it. I broke both of our hearts but I am hopeful that they can be mended. You deserve nothing but love, joy and happiness and I pray that you find it wherever you go, whatever you do, whoever you meet. 

I love you and I always will. 

Yours forever, 

Y/N

PS : I hope you don’t mind the cheesy quotation of your lyrics. I have been catching up on your music because I needed to hear your voice. Also, it is hard to exist without your talent and your way with words. 

PPS : I have finally listened to your whole catalog. Every single, every album, every feature. I did not think it was possible, but it makes me love you even more.”

Marshall could feel his heart sink as he read her letter. He could feel her sadness and her pain, her bleeding love in each word. He wished that he could reach her and pull her close to him. At that moment, he knew that letting her go was his biggest mistake. Tears welled up in his eyes. 

Fuck, he said. 

You good ? Jamal asked after a few seconds, reminding him of his presence. 

I… I guess. 

He finally opened the two presents. These were fancy packages from Montblanc. He scoffed, as he definitely didn’t deserve such a big gesture. If anything, he should be the one to treat her to the finer things in life, not the other way around. In the first package was a beautiful leather embossed notebook with a note written in pencil on the first page : “May you be inspired to fill these pages with good rhymes and good bars. I cannot wait to listen to the whole album. You got this and I believe in you.”. 

The second package contained a fancy, beautiful pen. From the looks of it, it was a collectible. The first thing he did with it was to write her name underneath her note, in ink. He needed her name to be there, permanently. 

By the time he was done opening the presents, he was openly sobbing and it didn’t matter that Jamal or anyone else was here. For the first time in ages, the pain in his chest was so real that he thought he would have a heart attack. He found himself bent in two, crouching on the couch, sobbing and feeling every bit of the pain he had tried to suppress. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply. He tried to focus on happy thoughts, but he couldn’t think of anything. The only image in his brain was her face. 

FUCK, he screamed into the nothingness. 

Every emotion he had ever felt, every moment of pain and grief seemed to hit him all at once. His mom, his bullies, Ronnie, Kim, Proof, his overdose, Y/N. 

Fuck, he whispered under his breath. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

It was all he would say. 

Marshall, he heard Jamal say in an echo. Do you need anything ? Anyone ? 

Y/N, he said as he kept sobbing. I need Y/N. I need her. I need to talk to her. My phone. Now. 

He heard Jamal hurry and rummage through the mess in his living room, trying to find his phone before handing it to him. He turned it on for the first time in days and he was immediately flooded by the incoming notifications that caused the phone to lag for a bit. He had about a hundred phone calls, a thousand unread emails and about fifty unread texts. Most of them were from his manager, his friends and his kids, but a few of them were from Y/N. She had really tried to reach out to him. 

From Y/N : I hope you’re doing well. I need to talk to you. Can you please call me back ? 

From Y/N : Please call back ? It’s important. 

From Y/N : I can’t reach you and I wish I didn’t have to tell you over a lousy text, but I’m leaving Detroit. I’m going back to France. My plane leaves on Tuesday night. 

From Y/N : I don’t know if you got my texts ? Or if you’re ignoring them ? I’d like to say goodbye. Can I come by ? 

From Y/N : You probably don’t want to see me. I’m sorry for disturbing you. In case you change your mind, my plane leaves at 6:35 PM. 

From Y/N : Boarding now. It’s my last text, I swear. Goodbye Marshall. I love you. 

There it was. Her last text. She had actually given him the opportunity to see her one last time. He could have held her. Maybe he could have convinced her to stay. But he blew it. He needed to call her and apologize. All he wanted was to crawl back to her. He needed her. To hear her voice. Anything. He tried calling but it went straight to voicemail. By looking at the time, he guessed she was on the plane and that her phone was on airplane mode. It was too late. 

He stared at the screen, feeling angry at himself. In a fit of rage, he threw the phone across the room and heard the screen break. Once he realized it meant he might not have her texts, he went to get it back. The screen was broken but still working. Once again, he felt mad. He punched the nearest wall. Then a painting. Then a mirror. In a matter of minutes, he found himself in a state, nearly trashing his living room. Jamal stopped him and held him for a long time before he stopped debating himself. Luckily, his friend was far taller and stronger than him, so he had no trouble containing him. 

Man, you need to calm down. Breathe. 

I can’t, Marshall replied panting. What the fuck’s happening to me ?! 

The tears started to flow again, as he realized he might be losing his mind. Jamal engulfed him in a hug - something different than their usual bro-hugs. This time, he felt like a small child crying in the arms of their parents. On any other day, he’d cringe, but he was deperate. 

I got you, bro, Jamal said. 

She’s gone. 

I know. 

It took a couple of minutes for him to be able to breathe normally and think straight again. 

Man, I know you’re my boss, but I’m talking as your friend here. Because I care. You need help. You’re not staying in this house by yourself, Jamal said. 

As much as he wanted to protest, Marshall found himself nodding. In the studio, Jamal acted as a soldier and did as he was told, but in real life, he had a presence to him and an authority that made people think twice before discussing his orders. 

It’s no Mathers Mansion, but you’re welcome to stay at my place, Jamal said. 

You don’t mind ? 

I don’t. You can take the couch or the guest bedroom. 

Ok. 

He went upstairs and started packing his stuff for a few days. As they stepped outside, he felt a sudden wave of relief. He had to get out of there. He needed to get away and recover, otherwise he would go crazy.

[hotluncheddie]

I was thinking about how Steve would deal with his sexuality crisis and how when he's tryna figure everything out he maybe has this moment of panic because he thought he'd stopped lying to himself and trying to be someone he's not but maybe that's not the case at all and he hasn't stopped pretending at all. And he just starts spiralling and it makes him want to stop thinking about pretend it isn't there so he just shoves it into a proverbial box so he can ignore it

:( sad stevie baby hours for us then anon?

sad sad self sabotaging steve. my dude. my wet little guy.

the idea that he though he was doing better, being himself, not lying to anyone not even when he’s alone. maybe he doesn’t like change and he’s hanging on to fragments more closely now, gripping things tightly in his palms. where he used just let it wash over him, no point giving it thought, things don’t change anyway. but then everything did, right? everything changed and so did he and now he has all this stuff. all this stuff attached directly to his heart strings.

and then he likes boys.

he likes girls but he likes boys. has liked boys. wants boys, too.

now there's boys and he starts to shut down.

Just that feeling of 'i'm doing better' but then it kinda turn into 'okay i'm tired lets just get though it' then it keeps going 'just one more week, just one more day' and then you look around and it feels like everything you've built in crumbling away around you. and that person you built up and thought you created was actually formed on a mudslide, your foundations were never gonna hold. it's all fallen apart without you really noticing

he doesn't have the words to describe how. there's a war happening between what he thinks he should feel, what maybe he does feel and who he thinks he is. who he was and who he wants to be are there somewhere too. but it's lost in the soup of his head.

but he has robin right? with her bright light and unconditional love. but this thing, this new thing. he's always been that right? this boy girl thing. so, he's a liar then. he never told her so he lied. lied to bright, beautiful robin. how could he have done that?

and there's eddie. eddie so much a part of this boy girl thing. eddie who feels like he could be his. feels like summer rain on his skin, feels like citrus tang on his tongue. but eddie knows who he is, think so deeply and is so true, so distinctly and explosively himself. and steve doesn't even know one bit about who he is. not really. not now. after this thing. its torn it all down. everything changed again but this time the cracks aren't through the town they're in his skin, at his roots.

can't bring eddie into that. can't let robin risk falling in.

but then maybe they jump through those cracks, start hiding things in the crevices. little beams of starlight and greenery. start helping him see that those cracks are quite pretty, maybe they let you see a little more of his skin. that this mud slide he's on feels a lot like grounding. like barefeet on grass and leaves turning with the sun. that maybe this boy girl thing is new, and old, and its so so steve. that maybe he can be okay again, build something new and live a little differently. but still true. because its always been true right? all those feeling, all those smaller him's and things locked away. they're peeking out of the cracks now. peaking out into this thing. this thing he can be. always be and always play with. even if it takes along time, that okay, it'll take all his life, maybe. to figure out he likes oranges, likes daisies the most, likes girls, like boys, likes this trying to be himself.

and maybe those hidden crevices start to shine a little brighter, the plants start to bloom. maybe robin never left and never will, find him a bathroom floor all his own. sees that always and right now are sisters and she can take his heart and keep it next to her own, until he's ready to have it back again, hold it real safe this time.

and eddie keeps turning up on his tongue, keeps dripping all over his skin. becomes his eddie. bis boy. his one. his new side of the boy girl thing. a this boy thing and love thing. romance on the mudslide. kisses under starlight.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: THIS IDEA JUST SPARKED HOLY SHIT?? OK have you ever watched Hot Ones with Sean Evens (first we feast is the youtube channel) so basically that but Steve is the one being interviewed but he LOVES spicy food??(watch the episode with Florence Pugh i LOVE it but basically I want it to be kinda like that) just yeah that. Jxjxnxnx please and thank you

MY LOVE ❤️ I admit, most of what I watch of really anything is either highlights on Tik Tok or short clips my friends send me because I am out of touch with the cool kids. But Hot Ones is SO GOOD. The Lewis Capaldi episode (I do love him anyways) had me actually almost pee my pants laughing. I hope you love this fun (short, sorry) thing for this! - Mickala ❤️

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

“I just don’t know why you got Hot Ones. They could have had the whole band on there making idiots of themselves,” Eddie pouted.

He’d been pouting for two days now.

In fact, his entire band was from the moment Steve called him on tour to let him know that he would be doing the Hot Ones interview next week.

“I told you, they had a last minute cancellation and my schedule just worked. Maybe you’ll get next season,” Steve said over the phone as the oven timer went off to let him know his brownies were done cooking.

“Whatcha makin’ Stevie?” Eddie’s curiosity was adorable.

He was in London, just got off stage from their last show in Europe. Steve was in their home in LA, having the last lazy day in before his awards season started.

“If I tell you, you’ll be sad you’re missing it.”

“Tell us! Tell us!” Gareth said from much closer than Steve would have expected.

“Hi Gare Bear. No personal space tonight?”

Eddie laughed as Steve pulled the brownies out of the oven and shut it off.

“He said personal space is for people who don’t like each other and he likes me very much,” Steve could hear Eddie’s eye roll in his voice. “A shame because I can’t stand him.”

“Play nice boys. You’ll be home in less than 24 hours,” Steve reminded them.

Gareth lived a mile up the road from them with his boyfriend and their excessive amount of cats.

Excessive being four.

Steve was allergic, so any amount of cats seemed excessive to him.

But Steve and Gareth were close, had been since even before Eddie and Steve started dating.

He was Steve’s best man in their wedding, much to Dustin’s bafflement. He only didn’t argue because Eddie softened the blow by asking him to be his own best man.

Usually if baked goods or a home cooked meal were involved, Gareth would show up at their door ready to partake.

“You’ll be home when I get there?”

“Yep. Cleared my whole day just for you, baby.”

“Good. Miss you.

“Miss you too. You heading to bed?” Steve poked at the brownies, making sure they were cooked.

“Yeah, I’m beat.” Eddie yawned to emphasize how exhausted he was. “Did your manager tell them you love spicy foods or are you just gonna let them assume you’re a wimp?”

“Nah. It’ll be fun.”

—-------------------

When he arrives on the set of Hot Ones, Sean greets him with a smile and a handshake.

Eddie wasn’t able to come with him, but Robin had promised to record the whole thing just for them.

She watched from the side next to his manager, Nancy, and his bodyguard, Hopper.

They settled at the table, got mic’d up, makeup touched up, and Sean reminded him that if he absolutely had to tap out, they could stop recording and edit everything accordingly to make it look like he made it through the challenge.

Steve wasn’t worried.

The first three wings didn’t even have a kick. It was just a casual conversation between friends.

He talked about his work with a theater group for kids in New York City, as well as his work on an indie film that was coming out in the fall.

The fourth and fifth wings had a pinch of spice to them, but nothing to make even bat an eye.

Sean continued asking questions, Steve continued answering them.

On the seventh wing, Steve was barely distracted from the question: “What project of yours are you most looking forward to doing next?”

“I think I’ll be most excited to take some time off with my husband, working on starting the family we’ve wanted for a while. He’s been on tour for most of the last year, and we agreed it was a good time to figure out what we wanna do,” Steve said as he took another bite.

He could feel the burn of this one at least, felt the sting on his lips and tongue.

But it was very manageable, and the jalapeno flavor was almost refreshing. It tasted fresh.

“Okay, I have to ask: did you practice these beforehand?”

Steve snorted.

“No. I’m just not very sensitive to spicy foods. I usually keep a lot of hot sauces in my house. Poor Eddie’s learned how to tolerate spice because of it,” Steve said as they brought out the eighth wing.

“I’ve never had anyone so calm at this point. I’m starting to think even the hottest one won’t really bother you!”

“I guess we’ll see!”

The ninth wing was hot. He wouldn’t try to deny it.

“It does have a lovely watermelon flavor to it, very fruity and tangy on top of the spice. I like it,” Steve smiled.

He knew his face was getting a bit red from this one, and he reached for the water, but only had to take a couple of small sips before he was ready to keep going.

“Alright, for this one, we’ll ask a question for you to answer before and then we’ll have one for right after. You ready?”

“Bring it on!”

And it definitely did.

It was hot, and he could feel tears in his eyes, and sweat breaking out across his forehead.

“Finally, we have a reaction!” Sean exclaimed.

“This one’s definitely a lot more than the others,” Steve added, reaching for the milk.

He could tell Robin and Nancy were laughing, probably very much enjoying any amount of pain he managed to have when he went into this so sure that none of them would get to him.

“Final question: Would you ever consider retiring to follow Eddie on tour with your future family?”

Steve nodded once, taking another sip of the milk.

God, this one was hot.

“Uh, yep. I mean, retiring is a strong word. I would definitely take a long break. I’ve always wanted a family,” he stopped to take another sip and a bite of the celery. “I’ve wanted to be a dad for as long as I can remember. And I know Eddie wants that, but he also doesn’t wanna stop making music, and the rest of his band isn’t ready to take a break like that. I know it would be easy for me, so my plan would be to take at least a few years off.”

“Doing alright over there?”

Steve laughed, fanning his face.

“I’m okay. That just went from a kick to a beatdown pretty quick.”

“Well, you’re a pro at making it look easy. You deserve an Oscar for this performance!”

It was a ridiculous sentiment, but funny, and Steve was up for an Oscar this year.

He finished the glass of milk and shook Sean’s hand, thanking him for having him.

“Eddie is already in tears watching Sean watch you in disbelief,” Robin started as soon as he joined them again.

“What was all that at the end?” Nancy asked, arms crossed, face furious.

He usually had free reign in interviews, but he knew Nancy would tell him not to mention anything even slightly related to retirement.

His career had really only just taken off a couple years earlier, and talking about a break or retiring now would immediately cut his chances of good roles in half.

“Just the truth, Nance. You know Eddie and I wanna start a family,” he said as they started walking through the backstage area to leave.

“I just didn’t know that meant taking a break. I thought you’d just take turns with stuff or hire a nanny.”

Steve knew that worked for a lot of couples, but they both were too family-focused for that. They didn’t want a nanny raising their kids.

“Why are you freaking out?”

“I’m not! I just would’ve liked a heads up.”

Robin stared between them, eyes bouncing back and forth like it was a tennis match.

“I don’t have to tell you every single detail of my life. You know all that’s relevant right now.”

Nancy sighed, but nodded, turning away and typing furiously on her phone.

His phone rang seconds later.

“Sweetheart, let me just say: it is so sexy how you handle those hot sauces,” Eddie’s teasing voice was enough to get him back into a happy mood.

“Your standards for sexy are so low,” Steve said as he walked to the corner to get as much privacy as possible.

“No, it’s just that everything you do is sexy.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours.”

“Steve!” Sean’s voice came from behind him, large smile lighting up his face. “Sorry to bother you, but would Eddie and the guys like to come on the show as our bonus episode this season?”

Eddie was screaming yes through the phone, much to their amusement.

“So…yes?” Sean asked.

“Yes!” Eddie yelled.

Sean walked away to update the producer while Steve kept talking to Eddie.

“See? Now you’ll get your show, too.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Sunrise, Sunset

[A/N: I wrote this in a rush bc there’s some stuff going on in my personal life and I just watched episode 9x10 and I needed a good cry 🥺]

*Warning you rn, sad Stevie ahead

—————

“Christ,” you grumble under your breath, slipping in a puddle and nearly falling flat out on the back porch. You try to adjust the grocery bags in your hands to see where you’re stepping, juggling your house keys between two fingers as you mutter on, “How many times have I told that man to wipe down the deck after a swim? Gonna break my damn face one-”

Your griping comes to a dead halt and the bags fall onto the deck with a series of heavy thuds. It’s not water you slipped on.

“St-Steve?” you stammer out, choking on his name. As you follow the trail into your home, now resembling more of a macabre art exhibit than a kitchen, your voice grows stronger and you yell, “Steve! Steven!” Red streaks and fingerprints are smeared across every visible surface, and the sheer volume of blood on the floor sends your heart leaping into your throat.

You can hear heavy footfalls rounding the corner, and you brace yourself to meet your demise at the hands of the same man who attacked your husband minutes ago. Then panicked blue eyes appear at the doorway, and tears pool in your own as you rush into the familiar security of Steve’s arms.

“You’re okay,” you exhale sharply, hands roaming every inch of skin that you can find. Your fingers graze over several bandages along his arms and chest, across his split lip, down the bridge of his nose, and you repeat again, “You’re okay.”

“Most of that blood’s not mine,” he assures you, tenderly brushing his thumb over your cheek and giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Is this- Is someone after your team?” you ask, taking note of his harried appearance and red-rimmed eyes as he leads you to sit on the living room couch.

He sniffs sharply and averts his gaze before answering, “Not Five-0. My team from the Morocco op.”

You take his hand and bring it to your lap, squeezing it tightly and running your thumb over his knuckles. “How many, Steve?”

He swallows thickly. “Three.”

“And…” You steel yourself for your follow up question. “And Joe?”

Giving your hand a squeeze in return, he says, “Joe’s okay.”

You take and release a deep breath, then lift his hand to your mouth and press a kiss to the back of it. “Do what you need to do,” you say softly. “Just come home to me in one piece when it’s done.”

“Angel, this might not-”

“Consider that an order, Steve,” you cut him off, lifting your resolute gaze to meet his. “You will come home to me.”

“Okay, mama,” he whispers. “Okay.”

—————

The telltale sound of a key slipping into the lock has you jolting awake in the dark living room. Sitting up on the couch, you rub the sleep from your eyes and glance at the clock to find it’s nearly three in the morning. Steve steps inside and locks the door behind him before dropping his bag to the floor. Even in the dim lighting, you can see the weight of the world bearing down on his shoulders, and you call out to him softly.

He takes lumbering steps towards you, then sinks to his knees and rests his head on your thigh, his arms coming up to encircle your waist. “I came home to you,” he says, haunted, his voice muffled by your cotton shorts.

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, carding your hands through his hair as he tightens his grip on you, his anchor.

“I came home,” he intones again. Your heart aches at how small he sounds, and you understand in that moment what he’s really saying to you: I’m the only one who came home. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you murmur, “You can let go now, honey. Let it go.”

His large body quakes beneath your fingertips, heaving with silent sobs as a lifetime of loss and sacrifice takes its toll. Drawing in shuddering breaths, he clings to you like you’re the oxygen he’s seeking while you rock him side to side and run your hand along his back.

The sun will come up in a few hours, and with it, a new day. But for tonight, all your husband can focus on is coming home to you and the most beautiful sunset he’s ever seen.

—————

[A/N… again: Writing that last line broke me 😔 If you’ve seen this episode I hope you get the reference; seeing my baby sad breaks my heart and I was ugly crying by that point ngl]

[eyesofshinigami]

Leave It All Behind

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, fluff, new beginnings

Prompt: For @acasualcrossfade "Love is having hope for the future together"

WC: 1112

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 12

Steve stands in the middle of his empty bedroom, hands on his hips, trying to untangle the knot of emotions in the pit of his stomach. He’s not sure how to feel; as much as he hates this house and its shadows on the wall, it was still home for most of his life. They made some good memories here. Late night movies with Robin, hosting Hellfire for the club, and he and Eddie’s first time right there where the bed used to be. 

But, on the other hand, he can’t wait to get out of this place. Not just the house, but this town; he struggled with the idea for a long time, feeling like he was abandoning the kids, but they called him on that pretty early on. Now that the gates were closed and the Upside Down had collapsed in on itself, El promised that there was nothing else they had to worry about. No more fighting. No more saving the world.

They could just be people again. 

Steve’s not entirely sure he remembers how. When he thinks of his life over the last four years, it’s mostly a blur of blood and nightmares that have left him a little changed, a little broken. He knows things and sees things that he would never wish upon another human being, and most days it feels like he would never be free of the marks it has left on him.

But. But. 

The car is packed. Eddie’s van has been sold, since it would be too big to drive in the city. Their whole lives have been taped in boxes to bring with them to the apartment waiting for him and Eddie in Chicago, along with Eddie’s record store job and Steve’s waiting teaching program. 

Now he just has to say goodbye.

“You okay in here, Stevie?” Eddie calls from the doorway, his footsteps light across the beige carpeting. “What’s on your mind?”

Steve sighs. “Just not sure how to feel. I hated this place, but it also…” he trails off, not sure how to put it into words. It’s complicated.

“It kind of feels like letting go of something important?” Eddie finishes for him. Of course Eddie would be able to find what Steve was trying to say. Months of living out of each other’s pocket and loving each so thoroughly tends to do that to people. “I get it. As much as I would love to see Hawkins burn to the ground in a blaze of unholy glory… I think I would actually be sad about it.”

Steve can’t help his chuckle. “Yeah. I’ll just be glad to get gone, you know? Leave this place behind once and for all.”

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve from behind, pulling his body into a gentle sway. They’re about the same height, but feeling Eddie pressed against his back like that always makes Steve feel small and loved and cared for. “Going to be a whole new world, baby boy. Just you and me and the Big City! And, you know, maybe Robin and Nancy when they can make it down.”

That idea settles something inside Steve. Robin and Nancy are heading to Boston, three days after he and Eddie hit the road. The kids will only be a four hour drive away, practically nothing in the grand scheme of things. They’ll be fine without him, he knows, and he’s glad that thought doesn’t make him want to curl up and die anymore. 

“I can’t wait to do this with you,” Steve whispers into the empty room, turning around in Eddie’s arms so that he can rub their noses together. This wasn’t the life he had planned on having, but he’s so grateful that he gets to have it. He never thought he would find happiness and peace in someone like Eddie; frankly, he never thought he’d find it at all. He had spent so long convinced that he was going to be just like his dad, angry and bitter and mad at the world because he was trapped in a life he didn’t want but thought he had to live. 

Not Steve. He shed that shit the moment that demogorgon came after them in the Byers house, slowly shaping into the person he is now. A person moving to Chicago to start a life with the man he loves more than life itself, who is planning on being a teacher and starting a garden on their little rooftop. 

A person he can be proud of. A person he can learn to love like Eddie does.

“And I can’t wait to do this with you, baby. No one else I’d rather do this with. The words are whispered against Steve’s lips, like a secret just for the two of them, even if they both tend to wear their love on their sleeves. “Just think, in like… ten hours, we’ll be unpacked in our new place and we can break in our new bed tonight. Scare the neighbors, you know?” Eddie grins against his mouth.

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves him back, even if he loves the pleasant little shiver Eddie’s words produce. Their place. Their bed. Their life together. “Come on, you menace. Let’s go say our goodbyes and get this show on the road.” 

They walk down the stairs hand in hand, after Steve gives one last silent farewell to this room, this place. One day he’ll be able to put it away, fold the memory of this place up like a letter and hide it in the back of his drawer, never to think about it again. Today? Today he lets it hurt, just a little. 

They give hugs and kisses and noogies to the assembled crowd that’s here to see them off. Their going away party had been the night prior, a perfect send off that had Steve crying into Eddie’s shoulder when they went to bed in Eddie’s trailer for the last time. It was perfect, all that he could ask for. 

It’s not forever, but it’s definitely time. Steve’s ready. 

He climbs into the driver’s seat and gets settled in, giving a few more last minute waves as Eddie climbs in on the other side. He starts the car and pulls down the driveway, trying to swallow the lump growing in his throat. 

It hurts, but in a good way. Kind of like the way a healing bruise feels when you flex the skin. Painful, but bearable. Especially when Eddie takes his hand and holds it over the console, squeezing it tight as they make their way out of Hawkins and into their future.

Together.

[thefixations-ofmine]

Kinktober 2024 - Dry humping

Pairing: Stucky (pre-serum) Word count: 925 Warnings: nothing more than the prompted kink - dry humping Summary: Steve & Bucky are enjoying their newly shared apartment A/N: First day of kinktober!! Taking it back to my first loves and obviously, my baby pre-serum Steve. This is a pretty tame prompt, expect a little more from the rest of the month! Main Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist | AO3

“Stevie,” Bucky warns but his body isn’t defending his words. His hands are wandering up Steve’s thighs, his fingers digging under the hem of his boxers, and he’s not pushing the blonde’s head away from decorating his neck. They’d been at this for around an hour now, kissing and letting their hands wander as they listened to the baseball game on the radio and needed to let their nerves out before their night courting at the fair. At some point, Bucky had gotten up to get their clothes ready for the evening, and made them glasses of water. When did Steve end up straddling his leg? Bucky couldn’t really tell, but he’d be damned to stop the spectacle.

A low moan rumbles in Bucky’s throat and he’s struggling to keep his composure. “Stevie, we’re going to be late,” he adds. His hands push Steve’s waist past his knee, and pulls him straight back so his bulge presses into the hard bone.

“B-but, James…” Steve whines, taking a breath, but his hips are still going strong, rubbing his leaking dick into his Bucky’s thigh. Bucky looks down between them, noticing just how far they’ve allowed this to go, how big the wet patch is in Steve’s boxers, and he thinks what the heck before dipping his head again onto the back of the couch and letting Steve have his way for a bit. He looks to his left for the clock; he has fifteen minutes before they really have to start getting ready.

“You’re a brat.” Bucky pants, a hand slapping Steve’s ass.

“You’re full of shit,” Steve accentuates through another roll of his hips. They scoff a laugh, and Bucky caves even more. Bucky runs his hands up Steve’s stomach under his white tank top and he rests his hands around his ribs before lifting his hips for extra pressure. Steve bites into his neck at the sensation, pulling a happy hiss from his boyfriend.

Boyfriend… Bucky gets lost in that thought. They’d allowed themselves to use the term only recently, though they had feelings for one another since they knew what feelings actually were. But living together had definitely made it harder to steer away from the needs and pleasures of it all. They’d bought curtains soon after Steve had moved in, and the fact that the neighbours knew about Steve’s sad situation, they never doubted what was happening behind locked doors. For the time being, Bucky enjoys having to simply worry about which surface hasn’t been christened and how many times he can get Steve to whimper his name;

“Bucky, please!” Yeah, just like that. He grips at Steve’s hips and turns him just slightly so their bulges can rub against each other - Bucky’s still in his work pants, but it’s sizzling his blood nonetheless. Steve’s hands drop to the cushion next to Bucky’s hip, bringing him practically on all fours, one knee on the other end of the couch and a foot steady on the ground. Steve can easily fuck himself into Bucky now, and boy is he going at it. For being half his size, Bucky is always left speechless at the prowess Steve can perform. But the time is ticking and the need is growing and there’s only so much his feather weight can put into the grinding. Bucky grabs the back of Steve’s neck and swishes his leg off the floor to flip him onto his back on the couch.

“Like that?” But Bucky knows Steve’s already trembling under him. He gives them an extended grind to prove a point.

“Y-Yes! Bu-” the end of Bucky’s name comes out in a screech as his zipper runs up Steve’s length. His hands are gripping at the open flaps of Bucky’s unbuttoned shirt and he’s pulling him into a searing kiss; tongues and teeth and spit. The heated passion waves up Bucky’s spine and he starts thrusting into his favourite man like the cops are walking up the stairs to let them know their last meal is up. It’s a laborious process not to pull them out of their confines to frot frantically like they did religiously on Sunday mornings, but the overstimulation of the material is helping move the pleasure along.

“Hard-harder,” Steve whines, eyes watery. His hands have moved to the back of Bucky’s shirt, grip still deadly. He’s maybe ten thrusts from cumming, Bucky knows.

“Like.” One. “That.” Two. “Baby?” Three. Bucky brings Steve’s legs around his body and moans when the pointy heels dig into his lower back. Four. Five.

“Yea-es.” Six. “Fuh-.” Seven. “-uck. James!” Eight. And before Bucky can fully pull back to crank another thrust, Steve starts writhing beneath him and his breaths are staggered until he goes rigid and Bucky can see his orgasm creep onto his chest in a dark red shade. He holds on for another second to admire the spectacle, and he uses the last two thrust he had calculated to get himself there.

Nine. Ten. He dips his head down to suck a hickey onto Steve’s pec as he empties himself in his pants, body heavy and hot with erotism and love. It’s a minute of heavy breathing and sweet hands running over each other’s bodies again as they come down from the unexpected moment they just shared. Then Bucky feels Steve bounce under him.

“Were you counting your movements?” Steve whispers with a hint of mockery. Bucky must have counted those last two out loud. He hides further into Steve’s neck, kissing him there as a sweet apology.

Want to be tagged for kinktober? Drop an ask to let me know! 🎇

[shit-sorry-fuck-mybad]

I was listening to I just Called To Say I Love You By Stevie Wonder and I had a very sad icemav thought

Imagine Ice making a habit out of calling Mav to tell him he loves him, he loves him so much and he knows that Mav knows this but he still likes to tell him whenever he can, and Mav doesn’t always pick up his phone, sometimes he’s busy or sometimes he doesn’t notice, doesn’t really matter, but that means that he has thousands of voicemails of Ice saying “hi baby, I just called to say I love you”

And then Ice dies, and Mav spends hours listening to his voicemails over and over, crying while seating on the floor and saying it back every time

And now this is a song that’s completely ruined for me

[fckinwild-kiwi]

Dec. 13th: Comfort in His Voice

Day 13: Laundry Day/Just Can’t Sleep

Guys, I’ve made it to Day THIRTEEN!! of @comp-lady’s Domestic December writing challenge!

Warnings: Maybe Swearing, *Slight* Allusions to Smut (This is an 18+ blog, minors dni)  Word Counts: 0.8k+ Words Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader

The relationship with Steve, though new, felt natural in a way that brought us both comfort. So much so that sleeping over felt like second nature. It was not often that we found ourselves in separate beds. And even though I still lived at my parent’s house, we ended up splitting the nights pretty equally between our houses. Even though Steve was concerted at first he began to realize that my parents understood that we were both adults and we stayed respectful of their boundaries. Physical intimacy was always something I thought you found within sex. I realized though, the physical intimacy that I craved the most was feeling the weight of his body pressed against mine, no sex on the horizon, just comfort from each other’s touch.

There was something so beautiful in recognizing that, while the sex was extraordinary, it was not the most important part of the relationship. It didn’t compare to knowing that your emotional needs were being met and that you were an equal in the relationship. 

I struggled with falling asleep on nights when we found ourselves at separate houses. I craved the comfort and feeling only Steve could provide when we shared a bed. Tonight, Steve was taking Robin and Eddie to a dive bar in the neighboring town, I decided to stay home because I had to work early the next day. But here it was, 1:30 in the morning with no sleep in my future. The bar had to have been closed or close to closing so I took my chances in calling Steve, hoping his voice would help me find comfort.

After six rings, I heard a voice on the other end, “Hello?”

“Stevie?”

“Baby,” He sighed out. “What’s wrong?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered in the receiver. “Missed you too much. How was your night?”

“I missed you too, baby,” He echoed. “Robin went crazy, the alcohol she drank tonight must have given her a personality change because she suddenly had the most confidence known to woman-kind.”

“Really?” I questioned, giggling at his excitement. “What happened?”

“She had three shots and decided that she found the love of her life, she walked right up to this woman, and within a few minutes they were making out, in front of everyone!”

“No way that was Robin,” I argued. She was a comically shy person in public but with our group of friends she was exceptionally outgoing, I was so happy to hear about her willingness to believe in herself. 

“Oh yeah, so she left with her about an hour later and Eddie decided that he was going to sing karaoke but he was also three shots deep and it didn’t take long for them to kick him off the stage because he was hogging the mic,” Steve said, beginning to laugh at the memory he was sharing. “He took a few more sad shots and then I gathered him up and took him home.”

“Wow, that’s a quick night for you guys,” I continued whispering. “Did you have fun at least?”

“Oh yeah, I did,” Steve reassured me. “I would have had more fun with you there to make fun of Eddie with me.”

“You need to be nicer to him, be a better wingman,” I reprimanded. 

“I know,” Steve sighed into the receiver. “I’ll be better. How was your day today and night?”

“It was fine,” I started. “My boss was on my ass about the new product and its layout for the holidays. I have to finish the setup tomorrow. Dad grilled some hamburgers for dinner and we watched ‘Wheel of Fortune’ after dinner. Some real party animal shit.”

“I hope your day at work goes better today, honey,” Steve said. “If it makes you feel any better, I work the late shift today so I’ll have to do all the restocking and cold calls to remind people to pay their late fees.”

My face fell, I had completely forgotten that Steve was working late today. “It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Will you do me a favor,” Steve whispered back to you even though he had no reason to be quiet. “Tomorrow, when you leave work, will you come to my place? Stay with me?”

“Yes, please,” I said, releasing a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“I just sleep better when we are together,” Steve said, rambling. “You’ll be here for a few hours before I get here but all of your favorite snacks are in the pantry. If you’d rather stay at home, I get it and I could come to you. But if you’d rather have another night apart, I get that-.”

“Stevie,” I interrupted him. “I don’t want another night apart, I sleep better next to you too. In case you forgot, I couldn’t sleep tonight and I called you at almost two in the morning because I missed you so much. After work, I’ll head home to yours, I’ll even make you dinner for when you get home.”

“I love you,” Steve mumbled into the receiver. I could tell that sleep was starting to creep up on him. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“I love you too, handsome,” I echoed. “Get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tonight though sleep came slowly, I found comfort in his words and that would be enough.