#steve hood company

[goshcas]

Kitchen Houston An illustration of a large, traditional, enclosed kitchen with a medium-toned wood floor and an undermount sink, white cabinets with recessed panels, quartz countertops, a white backsplash, a stone slab backsplash, stainless steel appliances, and an island.

[shutupcrime]

If you need a reminder we’re in the darkest timeline look no further than the outline of the adaption of into the woods we could have had back in the 90s

This version also would have had all the creatures in the movie played by puppets made by the Jim Henson company.

WE WERE F@*%#<€$¥ING ROBBED

[panickedpenguin]

Soulmates share a single symptom of emotion. For some, like Dustin Henderson, it's smiling uncontrollably whenever he can feel his soulmate laugh. For others, like Nancy Wheeler, it's balling your fists in tight tension when her soulmate yells in anger.

For Steve Harrington, it's having his eyes burn with unshed tears when he can feel his soulmate crying. When he was younger, he could hardly control the feeling and would openly sob right alongside his soulmate, however far away they were. With age he was able to reel it in, feel it less forcefully, breathe through it. Still, no matter what, his eyes would burn and often get red rimmed with strain. His soulmate was a bit of a crybaby.

He knew Nancy rarely ever cried. She was tough and smart and sought no one's approval but her own. Steve knew Nancy wasn't his soulmate, but he hoped. By God he hoped. But no, his soulmate cried. They cried almost every Christmas and always every Thanksgiving. They cried on March 29th and September 17th. Even now, having cried throughout Steve's whole life, his soulmate would cry randomly in the middle of the day or a Saturday night, cry first thing in the morning or late late, waking Steve from his sleep.

It used to annoy Steve, thinking that his soulmate must still be a baby if they're crying this much at the age of twelve, fourteen, sixteen, like fucking grow up! But when the crying wouldn't stop, when the regularity of it wouldn't slow down, Steve thought something must be wrong. Maybe his soulmate has chronic pain or suffers migraines. Maybe they're being forced to watch the world's saddest movies all the time by his evil step-mom. And then, maybe they live in a world with monsters from another dimension that attack them in the night.

Steve had told Tommy once, how he can feel his soulmates sorrow. Sorrow like drowning in grief and loss. How he feels like crying with his soulmate all the time. Tommy had nodded along, sympathizing. To lighten the mood, he joked that there must be people who pop boners when their soulmate is horny. How maybe they jizz their pants when their soulmate cums. Steve laughed and laughed and didn't bring it up again. Sometimes he'll feel the burning need to cry and think of boners instead.

When he meets Billy Hargrove, he believes that that man has never shed a tear in his life. Steve swears that Billy is a hotheaded asshole with a heart of solid ice. If he even has a heart at all. When Steve is exposed to his competitive streak and mean sense of humor, he thinks that Billy's heart might just be splintered open with the right icepick. When he sees Billy laying across the hood of his camaro, pointing out the constellations and telling stories about them over one too many beers, Steve thinks that maybe his heart isn't ice at all. Just encased in steel. Like a lockbox. And someone's got the key.

He wonders if someone has the key to his heart, too, or if they've lost it in the river of tears they've shed. He wonders if he could show them the key, if they could unlock Steve's heart together and never cry alone again. Because Steve thinks, when he cries, it's because he's alone in his feelings. Lonely and rattling for affection. Maybe that's why his soulmate cries, too.

There was one time Steve felt the burning need to cry all night long and then watched Billy Hargrove sit out of basketball practice for a week. Another time, Steve was at a party where he found himself in Eddie Munson's company in the front driveway, smoking a joint. The weed was making them sleepy and honest and Steve started crying over the death of his beloved Spaniel when he was eight years old, his best friend and housemate while his parents were away. Then Billy Hargrove came storming out of the house and slamming into his car, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. And then there was another Septemeber 17th where Steve hadn't felt the need to cry until he was on his way home from a night shift at Family Video. He knew the date and knew his eyes would be burning for a while more so he refrained from going home to face his parents and instead drove out to the junkyard. He thought he might find something cool but instead he found Billy Hargrove, bashing in the hood of a car with a tire iron and sobbing. He wiped snot across his sleeve and glared hard at Steve for approaching, yelling and taunting. But Steve felt like crying too and he knew something about bashing faces in, so he picked up a brick and threw it through the car's passenger seat window to get Billy to shut up. They both cried and destroyed a few cars together. When they were good and done they sat down on a green washing machine and shared Billy's cigarettes.

Billy said, "My mom died nine years ago today." He sounded so hollow and worn out that Steve only hummed his acknowledgement. Then Steve said, "My soulmate is lonely today." Billy heaves a huge sigh and then they sit there for a long time after.

They don't realize they're soulmates for another few months, at Joyce's Christmas party where Steve kisses Billy on the cheek soft and careful under the mistletoe. Billy sneaks out the back door to silently sob into the forest. Steve soon follows him out to make sure he's okay, only to watch Billy's body shake and barely exhale a breath while Steve's eyes burn and burn.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

After All This Time

Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: none

Summary: Car trouble puts you and your boss in an awkward position, especially when you two have so much history together.

Squares Filled: car trouble (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

It’s a straight shot from your house to your job. Instead of taking the main roads and confronting traffic, you take the back roads which takes an extra ten minutes, but you make up for that with your speed. The windows are down, your hair is blowing in the wind, and your music is on full blast. You pass the halfway point when the thermostat goes from the neutral position to the big bolded H. Smoke immediately starters pouring out of the engine, and you slam on your breaks to prevent the car from blowing up.

“Shit! No, please don’t do this to me,” you beg to no one.

You get out of the car and pull your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your face while you inspect the damage. You pull the hood up and a cloud of smoke bellows in your face. You quickly turn and cough violently.

“No, no, no, this isn’t happening now,” you gasp. “Not today of all days.”

You don’t have time to wait for an Uber or Triple A, so the only other thing you can do is walk to work… in heels… on a dirt road. The time it will take to walk to work will be the same time or more waiting for an Uber or Triple A. Not only are you going to be late for work but you’ll have to apologize to your boss about it. Normally, that wouldn’t bother you but your boss just so happens to be your high school boyfriend.

Steve was the perfect boyfriend. He treated you with respect, didn’t undermine your values, supported you through everything, and loved you unconditionally. Everyone in school thought you two would be together forever and there was a point where you thought that, too. Right before graduation, you got an incredible opportunity to go to a different country and do a study abroad in Russia.

Steve got into Harvard for business and wanted you to go with him. You two applied for Harvard and you both got in, but you really wanted to go to Russia to study for a semester. To spare the sad details, you two broke up. It was one of the most difficult things you have ever done because you were still in love with him.

After coming back to the States, he was already in another relationship with someone. You never thought your story would end the way it did but you forced yourself to move on. For years, you thought you did. You had a few boyfriends but none of them had an impact the way Steve did.

Then one day, you got an amazing offer to work for Captain Industries as a sales director for the entire sales department. One of the job duties as a sales director is to report everything to the CEO, and luck had it that Steve was the CEO. You often had meetings with the different department directors who touch base with Steve so he knows what’s going on with his company.

The first day on the job, you and Steve locked eyes in the first meeting of the day. It had been years since you two have spoken much less seen each other, so you didn't want to make a big deal in front of everyone. You thought he would have said something after the meeting but he left like you didn’t mean a damn thing to him. Maybe he didn’t remember you, but how can someone forget the person who was their first for everything--first kiss, first date, first time you two held hands, first time you had sex, and the first time you ever gave anyone a promise ring. He was the love of your life but maybe you weren't his as much as he was yours.

When you finally reach work, you immediately head to the bathroom to fix yourself up. You must look like a sweaty mess, and your reflection confirms it. Despite the headache forming from how high your ponytail is, you keep your hair up. If you were to put it down, you’ll look worse. You look at the time and curse when you realize just how late you are for your morning meeting.

Forty-five fucking minutes. Steve is going to chew your ass out. You leave the bathroom and interrupt the morning meeting with an embarrassed look on your face. Everyone turns to look at you including Steve. He looks at your hair before locking eyes with you. Time seems to slow down the longer he looks into your eyes but you break eye contact.

“Sorry I’m late. Car trouble,” you mutter.

You quickly take a seat, and the director of marketing slides her notes over to you. You look at her gratefully and look over the notes just as the meeting resumes.

“As I was saying,” Steve says, peeling his eyes from you, “statistics show a slight decline in demand for products. Frank, have you hired two more manufacturing engineers?”

“Yes, we’re training them right now. We have been working hard creating more product.”

“Good. Y/N, how is your department doing?”

You snap your head up to look at Steve and sit up a bit straighter.

“We lost Marissa since she went on maternity leave but we won’t let that stop us from not picking up the slack. Her duties have been spread out throughout the different managers to give to their employees. I have seen a rise in sales by ten percent.”

“Make it twenty.”

“Yes, sir.”

Meetings only last an hour since Steve is so busy so the next fifteen minutes go by easily. Jules lets you keep her notes to look over and copy if needed. Most people filter out immediately but you’re one of the last ones in so you can apologize to Steve directly.

“Listen, Steve, I’m sorry for being late. My car stalled on the side of the road on the way to work. I had to walk the entire way here.”

“I need your reports on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

He must not be over your breakup because this isn’t the Steve you knew. You gather your things and head to your office. You almost cry from how stressed you are because you still have to deal with your car. Not to mention your headache is getting worse and you don’t have a brush to fix your hair.

It takes all day to work on the reports for Steve so you’re one of the last ones in the office even though you still have two more hours until the end of the work day. You could leave since you’re salaried but you need to make up time for being late. You walk to his office and knock once on the door, entering when he gives you permission.

“I have the reports for you.” You walk over to his desk and place them there but you don’t leave just yet. “Again, I’m sorry for being late.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. It happens.” Steve looks up and sees you squeeze your eyes tightly from the headache you have. “Come here.”

Steve stands when you approach him, and he gently takes the elastic out of your hair. He threads all ten fingers into your hair and starts massaging the area, and you close your eyes in relief. You open your eyes and look at Steve to see him already looking at you, and he sees the question in your eyes.

“High ponytails give you headaches.”

You’re shocked he remembered that. You were on multiple sports teams in high school and instead of putting your hair in a ponytail like the rest of the girls, you put it in a tight bun at the base of your neck.

“You remembered,” you whisper.

“There’s a lot I still remember.” Steve takes his hands away but doesn’t step back from you. “Go to my personal conference room and take a nap on the couch. You’re overworking yourself.”

“Steve--”

“I don’t want to hear it. Go take a nap and then I’ll drive you home. I’ll pick you up and drive you home until your car is fixed.”

He must not be in a relationship if he’s offering to do this for you. You’re not sure how you feel about that--scratch that you do know how you feel but you’re not sure if he feels the same about it. You slowly walk to the door but pause before you can leave the room. You look at Steve who is already typing away on his computer.

“Now, Y/N,” he says without looking up.

You jump and immediately leave with a smile on your face. The time for you and Steve wasn’t right back then but there’s nothing stopping you from making it right now.

x

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[trashmouth-richie]

i had a filthy dream last night that inspired this, enjoy

smut, 18+ only; eddie x you steve x you

you were nestled in eddie’s lap, neck full of hickeys and slicked with spit, his curls tickling the tops of your breasts, big hands on the fat of your ass.

steve was behind you, nibbling on skin, his broad nose rubbing against your hair line behind your ear, whispering nothing but filth.

“you ready for him sweet girl?” eddie purred into your neck, locking eyes with steve.

—

it was your first thanksgiving as a couple with eddie, and when the phone rang with a heartbroken steve on the other end, there was no way you could have imagined it would end up like this.

but you graciously opened up your home for the night for steve, filling wine glasses to the brim and making yourself scarce so your bf and his bestfriend could talk out steve’s love life woes.

steve had always been a flirt towards you, a little too friendly kisses on the cheek in greeting that soon led to linger hugs, him pressing your body flush to his.

eddie didn’t mind, almost always encouraging it, always showing you off, look at my girl stevie she’s fucking gorgeous isn’t she? steve would lick his lips with a haunted expression on his face before he excused himself from the room.

after a few bottles of wine and a heart to heart between the two guys, steve sat wide legged on the couch, eyes glazed over in a hooded drunk expression, watching your every move.

after checking on the turkey, and wiping your hands off on the emerald apron wrapped around your waist, steve patted the couch cushion next to him, beckoning you to come and sit down.

he sighs, shifting further into the couch and you pat his leg eyes looking up to him in remorse. nancy was your friend too, and you couldn’t believe she would do that to him.

“you can stay with us as long as you need, you’re always welcome here steve.” eyes brimming with tears as he smiles tiredly down at you, the knit cables on his brown sweater matching his eyes.

he smiles warmly, and looks down to the way your skirt has ridden up on your thighs, the garter set you wore for eddie now on display for anyone to see, and you sheepishly start to yank your skirt down before steve’s warm hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you.

your heart is in your throat and you absentmindedly lick your lips, looking up at steve through your lashes.

he dips closer to you, nose brushing your own.

“you don’t have to hide those pretty thighs from me, honey.”

your stomach feels like it’s going to bottom out. steve was handsome in a boy next door type of way, you drunkenly admitted that to eddie once and he never let you forget it, not in a mean way, but in a way that made you think given the opportunity, steve could be your third.

but that would never happen. because steve was with nancy. besides the shameless flirting was just playful, harmless. it meant nothing.

his fingers move up your thigh, fingering the lace of the black set on your legs, letting them go with a snap.

“y’know…eddie’s cool with this if you are.”

suddenly your mouth was dry and your pussy was wet.

eddie turned around the corner from the kitchen, a pickle crunched loud between his teeth and he looks at you, a devil smirk on his lips.

“this what you want sweet girl? i think our poor guest deserves some company, don’t you?” another pickle snaps between his teeth, his smile broadens when your thighs push together in a clench.

“think we got our answer munson.”

steve’s nose brushes the underside of your chin, kissing your neck in sweet sweeps of his lips, a tickle of his tongue. his hands grab your hip, pulling you towards him.

it was all moans and smacks of lips against hot flesh, your shirt came off in a flash and your fingers were wrapped in steve’s hair, his lips pressed to yours bruisingly sweet.

eddie stood and watched, coaching steve on the way you liked to be kissed, the right position to get you off, and then he joined in.

it was too much, the familiar touch if eddie and the new sting of steve.

“listen big boy, her pussy is mine, but that ass is all yours.” eddie instructed, having switched positions with steve so you were now straddling his hips.

you moaned into his mouth, barely able to keep yourself still when you heard the zip of steve’s pants coming undone, you had ridden his lap for almost a half hour, your pussy was clenched around his clothed cock and you knew it was big, big as thick as eddie’s but longer.

eddie’s hands spread your ass cheeks wide, and steve spit on your waiting hole.

“i’ll go slow honey, okay?” he murmured kissing your temple.

“she can handle it, this nasty girl loves her ass stuffed, don’t you baby?” eddie grunts, grinding you down into his lap, trying to pull another orgasm for you before steve has is way with you.

the mushroom top of steve’s cock presses heavy on your hole and you’re mewling for him, gasping when he pushes in further, eddie’s hands holding you open and steady for steve’s cock.

“so fuckin’ tight,” steve groans, “goddamn.”

it takes a few mins for you to adjust to his length, but when you finally do, eddie shoves his own cock into your slippery slick and your cock drunk on them both, full to the hilt, nothing but breathy moans and sweat slicked bodies sliding together between the three of you.

they move in tandem, taking it slow at first and then faster, you’re whimpering and moaning, clit red and banded from eddie’s and your fingers. steve’s bite marks on your shoulder.

when they come eddie yells out, and steve practically tears bites a hole through his lip, telling you how you’re so fucking good for them.

when you wake you’re in your own bed, eddie holding you, your forehead pressed into his chest, steve’s lips snug against your back.

it was the happiest thanksgiving you’ve ever had. burnt turkey and all.

s/o to lexapro for the wildest dreams on the planet

[throwing-in-the-towel]

SONG/SCENE BREAKDOWN - ACT TWO

JUSTICE FOR TULSA

- act 2 opens immediately with this song

- KWP who plays bob also plays the cop who is singing

- the cop is standing at the front of the stage and has a flashlight, he shines it around the audience like he’s looking for someone

- the company (minus pony, johnny + dally) are all lined up behind the cop

- after “lying there on the ground,” paul and cherry step up out of line and talk to the cop. paul tells the cop it was pony and johnny who killed bob, cherry refuses to speak

- after “they killed him with a switchblade knife,” darrel and soda step up out of line, the cop is interrogating them, cop tries to bait them into giving up info about dally

- ^ leads into “put out a quarter bring dallas in”, the company leaves the stage and dally comes on, standing by the car. he sings his verse and it ends with the cop handcuffing him

- before cherry’s part starts, it cuts to pony and johnny who are sitting at the top of the wooden structure on stage (supposed to be the church) and they make up the plan to dye pony’s hair

- cherry is wearing bob’s letterman. all the socs are on stage and cherry and paul sing their parts.

- “the two of us just stayed behind” refers to cherry and marcia

- “anyone from the east side” section is accompanied by two-bit coming on stage and getting jumped by the socs. they punch him, pin him down, and burn a cigarette on his face

- the song/scene ends with the socs having flashlights like they are now the ones looking to deal with the issue

DEATH’S AT MY DOOR

- pony is sitting alone at the top of the church, johnny has left to get water

- johnny comes in while pony is singing, he then joins in and does his part

- they are sitting on the elevated structure with their feet hanging off the edge

THROWING IN THE TOWEL

- has a great lead-in scene between darrel and dally.

- essentially the same as the performance done on the today show!

SODA’S LETTER

- has a very funny lead-in scene between johnny and pony, dally comes in and catches up with them, gives pony the letter

- pony is sitting on a box in the middle of the stage and soda is standing in the back of the stage to sing

- soda comes up stage and starts singing directly to pony, leans in for “sincerely soda” and “say hey to johnny for us”

- darrel comes out as well and is leaning against the car to sing the final line

- leads into johnny deciding they have to return to tulsa and dally has a phenomenal monologue, this is where the church starts to burn down

HOODS TURNED HEROES

- two-bit is standing on the tire holding a newspaper in front of his face

- while he is singing the first verse explaining what happened, pony and johnny are recreating the scene on stage

- there is a giant sheet that is used to project images of them saving the kids from the fire, super smart way to show what happened

- two-bit gives the paper to soda. darry, steve, ace, two-bit and soda are the only ones performing this song. soda also jumps off the hood of the car at one point

- great dance number, so fun, and ends with them all looking at the newspaper

HOPELESS WAR

- starts with dally and pony standing by johnny’s hospital bed. cherry shows up and dally leaves

- cherry asks to talk to pony outside and he says he’s not leaving the hospital room. he sits on the floor by johnny’s bed and the song begins

- cherry sits with him

- while cherry sings, the socs and greasers begin to appear on opposite sides of the stage, each getting ready for the rumble

- immediately transitions into “trouble”

TROUBLE

- super quick but great way to lead into the rumble

- soda jumps over darrel’s head at one point and it always amazes me bc brent comer is so fckin tall that i have no clue how jason does it

- two-bit and soda are practicing their punches, same with ace, steve, and dally

- pony is standing on the car when darry asks him to let him fight on his behalf

- all the greasers surround the car and pony yells “do it for johnny”

- ends with the socs and greasers meeting in the middle and paul and darry confront each other which is the first punch thrown of the rumble

LITTLE BROTHER

- immediately after the rumble when the greasers go into johnny’s hospital room and he dies (while holding pony’s hand) after some dialogue -> some super sweet moments including soda calling him “buddy” :’(

- while dally starts to sing the greasers are all comforting each other. pony is on the ground by johnny’s bed and soda is trying to hug him. ace and steve are hugging. two-bit is also sitting by the bed and darrel is standing in the back

- while dally sings the first “little brother” the greasers all lift johnny’s bed (a wood plank) up like a coffin and carry it out. they prop it up against the back of the stage and each take their turns touching it (it acts as a tombstone)

- they all leave the stage and dally continues on. pony is standing atop the metal structure on the side of the stage watching this all play out

- during the second chorus dally punches out wooden walls that back the stage. the company is on the ground beneath the structure and mimic his movements (truly a beautifully choreographed moment)

- ^ this can kind of be seen in the 45 second clip the official instagram posted recently of the song!!!

- before the ending of the song begins (“there’s only one way out…etc”) pony narrates what’s going on, setting up dally’s death

- dally stands at the front of the stage, finishing the song and almost screaming the last note as he gets hit by the train

- pony then goes on for some heartbreaking dialogue including the mention of how they buried dally 27 steps from where johnny was buried

STAY GOLD

- beautiful and heartbreaking scene between the brothers before this song happens. cherry comes in and drops of johnny’s clothes and talks to pony. she tells him there’s an envelope for him in johnny’s jacket pocket.

- pony ignores the letter and just hugs johnny’s clothes against his face. soda takes the letter and starts reading it, darry is sitting at the table crying. pony takes the letter from soda after the first few lines and the song begins

- johnny comes out and stands next to pony while he is reading the letter

- for the final verse they duet on, they sit on top of the car together and pony is writing in his notebook

- after this ends, pony sits at the table with his brothers

FINALE (TULSA ‘67)

- the brothers are all sitting at the table. darry asks to read pony’s writing and that’s where the audio track on the album starts. darry reads more than just “when I stepped out…etc.”

- pony stand up and walks to the front of the stage to sing. as he goes on, darry passes the book to soda and he takes his turn reading it

- when pony sings abt dally, dally is seen walking in the shadows on the elevated structure on the stage.

- the greasers come on stage while pony sings about dally and the greasers. the socs come out as well.

- when he says “i thought for a long time….” he takes out a copy of the novel from a tire on stage and lifts it up on beat to “this is tulsa 1967” and hands the book to someone in the front row

- the company copies what they did in “tulsa ‘67” with the walking and running around stage.

- when pony sings about johnny, johnny is standing on the top of the car with the greasers surrounding him and a gold light shining down.

- ends with pony at center stage and the company staggered around

[mattsturniolosmuse]

Steve Randle x Reader

This is also from the poll.

Summary: You ask him to fix your car, and you keep him company while he does so. You drive him home after, making a little pit stop *wink wink*

Warnings: MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, face sitting, cum play, car sex, dom! steve, sub! reader, this is probably the filthiest thing i've ever written

"Fucking piece of junk." You mutter, pulling in to the DX to get your car fixed.

You get out, slamming the door. It had been a gift from your father 2 years ago.

"What's up with it?" A boy asks. He had dark hair, and it was grease back, and he had a DX shirt, unbuttoned, to reveal nice toned abs. You glance at his name tag. Steve.

"My car is making a weird noise. I'm sure you heard it." You say, gesturing towards the engine.

"Yeah. I think that the axle is rusted. I can fix that up for you." He says. You nod, sighing a breath of relief.

"Yes, thank you." You say, plopping down on a nearby bench.

"You been working here long?" You ask. Steve nods.

"Four years." He says.

"Mm." You hum in response. You would offer him help, but you were wearing a short leather skirt and a white tank top that showed quite a bit of cleavage.

You made small talk with him while he worked. You learnt that he is part of a greaser gang, and that he lives with them most of the time, unless his dad offered him money.

"There. All done." He says, slamming the hood shut.

"Thank you so much!" You say, smiling.

"That'll be $150." He says. Your heart drops. You didn't even have $50.

"Shit. I-i don't have that. Is there any other way I can pay you?" You ask, fidgeting your thumbs.

"Nah. Just give me a ride home, would ya?" He says, hopping into the drivers seat.

"Well, I'm not really giving you a ride home if you're driving, am I?" You chuckle, getting into the passenger seat.

"Wow. Real beauty." He says. You note that he's talking about the car. The first minute of the ride was silent.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do to pay you back?" You ask.

Steve thinks about it, and when he stops at a red light, he quickly unbuckles his jeans, and pulls them down. His erection smacks against his abs, and your eyes widen. He smirks.

"Come on, gorgeous, you can do it." He says, chuckling. You are suddenly aware of the wetness in your panties.

You bend over the console and take his tip in your mouth. Steve moans quietly.

"Wait, what's your name? I need to be moaning the right one." The boy asks. You take your mouth off of him.

"Y/N." You take him back in your mouth, and the car starts moving. He takes one hand off the wheel and tangles it in your hair, pulling your head up and down on him.

"Fuckkk, baby, just like that." He moans, bucking up into you. He hits the back of your throat and tears start rolling down your cheeks. You gag, momentarily stopping, but then you get right back to it.

Steve hits a speed bump, and you jump, his dick going farther down your throat this time. You whimper, and Steve twitches.

The car comes to a stop, and he bucks up into you, both hands now on your head.

"I'm so close." He moans. Soon enough, his seed is shooting down your throat. You swallow it all, and he pulls your mouth off of him. You pull yourself over the console, straddling his lap as your mouths collide in a hungry kiss. Steve grabs your hips and grinds his waist into yours, letting out a loud moan.

"I-i need you." Steve says, pulling away. You pull the handle on the side of the seat, to make the seat go back. You start grinding into Steve, who hastily pulls your tank top off. He smirks when he sees you're not wearing a bra. He grabs your wrist to stop you.

"It's almost like you knew this was going to happen." He says. You shrug.

"The top has a built in bra." You say, grinding into him again. You stand up momentarily, to unzip your leather skirt, pulling it down your legs.

Steve smacks your hand away when you go to remove your panties. You look out the window, and you guys are outside a house.

"Steve! Is this your gang's house?" You ask, covering your chest.

"Yeah, but they're too busy watching the football game to see you, I swear." He says, removing your arm from your chest to admire you some more. He takes your panties and puts them in his shirt pocket, removing the shirt after.

"Those are mine now." He says.

Your lips collide again, more heated this time. Steve licks your bottom lip, but you deny him entrance. He squeezes your tits and you gasp, and he takes that opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. You whimper as his tongue collides with yours.

"Ready?" Steve asks you. You nod. Steve picks you up and you slowly sink onto his dick. He made you feel so full.

"S-steve!" You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. You start moving back and forth, and Steve grasps your waist to push you down farther.

"Y-yeah, gorgeous, just like that." Steve moans, bucking into you. You pulled off of him completely, and slammed back down.

"HOLY FUCK!" Steve moans loudly, forcing your hips to go faster. Your hands are on his chest, boobs hanging in his face as you bounced on his dick.

"God, oh god, Steve!" You moan as you lean down to kiss him. His tongue immediately clashes against yours. You leave his lips to lick his neck, leaving hickeys.

He does the same to your breasts, leaving hickeys everywhere.

"I'm so close, Steve." You moan out, digging your nails into his chest.

"Yeah. Cum all over my cock. Do it for me." Steve moans. You bounce a couple more times, until you release all over his cock. He pulls you off of him and releases all over your chest.

He scoops it up, guiding his fingers to your mouth. You suck on the digits, not breaking eye contact with Steve. His boner grows again.

He scoops up more of the mess on your chest, and draws a big SR on your chest, chuckling.

"I want you to sit on my face." Steve says.

"No, i'll suffocate you!" You say, blushing.

"No, you won't. It'll be fine. Please?" He begs.

"Ugh. Fine." You say. You bring yourself forward, and hanging onto the handle above you, you hover over Steve's face. His hands grasp your waist and he pulls you onto his face.

"Oh! God..." You moan. It was a different feeling, and his nose brushed against a soft spot.

"Steve! Fuck, that feels so good!" You moan as his tongue slips in and out of you. His hands start moving you back and forth on his face, and tears leak out again. The pleasure was too much, you were seeing stars.

You couldn't think straight. You didn't know which way was up and which way was down. You could only think of Steve.

Steve. Steve. Steve.

Your orgasm came very quickly. You gasped and pulled yourself off of Steve, his face covered in your cum, and he had a stupid grin on his face.

"Thanks, babe." He says, grabbing a cloth from the console and wiping his face.

He flips you over.

"Round two?" He asks. You nod, and he pushes into you, pistoning his hips into yours at a fast pace. You wrap your legs around his waist, bringing his lips to yours. Your clit was pulsing with pleasure, and it was added to as Steve rubbed it gently.

"I love you, Steve." You say, accidentally. He stops.

"What? Say that again?" He says.

"I-I love you." You say quieter.

"Fuckkkk" He moans, going faster than before.

"I-I love you too, g-gorgeous." He says, twitching. He releases into you. He dresses you, but you are wearing your tank top and your very, very short skirt with no panties. You step out of the car and into the Curtis' house, Steve's cum still dripping down your leg.

"How was that for paying me back?" Steve asks, grabbing your ass and kissing your neck.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Let It Out, and Let It In

Summary: Spiraling under the immeasurable weight of his trauma, Steve desperately seeks out the company of his girlfriend and, after experiencing a panic attack in her presence, unexpectedly finds himself opening up to her about his mental health.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for a detailed depiction of a panic attack and a frank discussion about Steve Rogers’ trauma

A/N: Hi guys! I've been an MCU/Steve Rogers fan for damn near a decade now, and it hasn't escaped my notice that Steve's trauma has a tendency of being overlooked and overshadowed. So today, we'll be getting a glimpse of his ongoing mental health struggles (I promise you it's not all angst!) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Let It Out, and Let It In September 2015 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Sam Wilson, Washington D.C. (Superhero Snapshots Masterlist)

“Should’ve called ahead, Rogers,” Steve chastised himself under his breath as he knocked three times on (Y/N)’s front door. He shoved the hood of his sweatshirt off his head and roughly combed his fingers through his hair, the poor attempt to straighten up his appearance for his girlfriend doing very little to distract from his spiraling mental state.

Like many, Steve didn’t exactly have fond memories of high school. While everyone around him seemed to struggle a little as they transitioned from awkward adolescence to mature adulthood, he always felt as though he was one massive step behind them without any hope of catching up. One aspect of high school he did appreciate, though – apart from his friendship with Bucky and his beloved art – were his English courses; he devoured each of the novels, plays and poems that they were assigned to read and thoroughly enjoyed writing themes that analyzed their deeper meanings. One of his favorite books had been The Great Gatsby and even eighty years later, he could still recall the telling exchange that Jay Gatsby shared with Nick Carraway towards the beginning of their friendship: ‘You see, I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad thing that happened to me.’

The brief line of Gatsby’s dialogue managed to stick with Steve long after he’d finished reading the book, initially because he couldn’t imagine how one’s life could become so lonely but eventually, because he’d come to understand Gatsby’s words all too well; he suffered the loss of his mother and Bucky, went into the ice in 1945 and woke up to find that nearly seventy years had passed him by, grappled with the losses of all his fellow Howling Commandos and helplessly watched as the last personified tie to his past slowly succumbed to dementia. Like Gatsby, Steve preferred the company of strangers; they made it easier for him to ignore the crippling loneliness because they never bothered to try and get to know the traumatized twenty-seven-year-old man behind the red, white and blue shield.

Things began to change for him not long after the Battle of New York. He befriended Natasha, one of his fellow Avengers, and she tried her best to acclimate him to his new life; maybe it was a result of all she’d suffered at the hands of the Red Room or because she was just incredibly adept at reading people, but Nat knew that he was struggling and in her own unique way, she did everything she could to be there for him. He met Sam and (Y/N), leaving his apartment for his usual morning run around the National Mall wearing a serious scowl but departing for his S.H.I.E.L.D. mission afterwards with a truly happy smile on his face; Sam soon became one of his best friends, the VA trauma counselor understanding his difficulties with adjusting to his new life but never treating him differently because of them, and he found himself falling in love with (Y/N), the historical-fiction novelist bursting into his life like sunshine on a cloudy day and making him feel truly seen for who he was instead of the larger-than-life mantle he carried. And with the help of (Y/N), Sam and Nat, he grew closer to his fellow Avengers, even finding himself beginning to view them as his family and accepting the fact that he wasn’t alone anymore.

But while Steve had slowly grown to love and appreciate his new life, there were still some days when the reality of his situation would weigh heavily on his mind and it was only a matter of time before he’d break down into a full-blown panic attack; he did his best to hide his struggles from his girlfriend and friends, not wanting to hurt their feelings or make them feel that they weren’t enough for him, but it was becoming harder and harder for him to pretend that everything was all right. It was one of those awful days that saw Steve impulsively asking Nat to land the Quinjet at Joint Base Andrews on their way home from a mission in Argentina; the assassin did as he asked without question, but he could feel her concerned gaze following him as he walked down the ramp and marched across the airstrip alone. Ignoring the mounting pressure in his chest, he elected to do what he’d often do before the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and take a walk through the streets of D.C., following in Jay Gatsby’s footsteps and surrounding himself with strangers to avoid addressing the memories of his old life that were clawing their way to the forefront of his mind.

With the hood of his sweatshirt pulled low over his face and his hands shoved into its pockets, Steve trudged down North Capitol Street with his eyes downcast, prolonging his return to his dark and impersonal apartment and the panic attack that would inevitably follow. Dusk had already fallen and downtown, the city’s nightlife was beginning to ramp up; restaurants were packed with families visiting the historic city and cheerful groups of friends pulled one another into the bars and nightclubs, while couples walked arm-in-arm and took in the glimmering lights that illuminated the city’s imposing monuments. It wasn’t until Steve walked past a bookstore and caught sight of (Y/N)’s debut novel, For Queen and Country, proudly displayed in the window that he felt his mind beginning to clear and a small smile tug on his lips. In that instant, Steve was engulfed by an overwhelming need to see his girlfriend and he continued walking down the street at an increased pace, spurred on by the sunshine that might succeed in breaking through the bleak isolation he found himself consumed by.

Steve forced himself out of his musings just as the door swung open to reveal (Y/N); he was pleased to see that she was dressed for a comfortable night in, with a well-loved Lauryn Hill concert t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, but it was evident by the white strip adhered to her nose and the hair towel balanced on her head that he’d interrupted her evening. “Steve!” (Y/N), unaware of the guilt he was experiencing for interrupting her relaxing evening, smiled broadly and opened her door wider. “I’ve really got to stop listening to Sam; that lying Birdbrain told me you guys wouldn’t be back from Argentina until tomorrow.”

“The mission wrapped up a lot quicker than we’d initially anticipated, so Sam’s off the hook fir lying this time,” Steve replied with a small smile as he shoved his fidgeting hands into his pockets. “I, um, I’m really sorry that I didn’t call or text you before coming over, but I was on my way home and I…anyway, I can leave if I’m intruding-”

“Don’t be silly, you’re not intruding!” Standing the side, (Y/N) allowed him to step through the doorway and closed the door before turning to give him a sheepish smile. “After spending all day going over my book’s first draft with Greg, I treated myself to a bubble bath and I may or may not have fallen asleep in the tub; I woke up in lukewarm water and my fingers were all pruney, but it was a damn good nap.”

“You’ve been working hard on your novel, sunshine; if anyone deserves a little rest and relaxation, it’s you.” Steve slipped off his sneakers and neatly placed them near the entryway table, straightening and chuckling when his girlfriend launched herself into his arms and nuzzled her face against his chest. “Did you miss me?”

(Y/N) nodded and tightened her arms around his waist. “I always miss you whenever you’re away on a mission, sweetheart.”

Steve’s heart melted and before he knew it, one of his arms was holding her close while his hand was guiding her face upwards so that his lips could meet hers; their kiss was slow yet passionate, with each of them doing all they could to savor their rare moment of peace, but his initial reason for visiting the historical-fiction novelist made its presence known in his mind and saw him give her one last kiss before pulling away with a forced smile. “Me too, baby. I just…I really needed to see you.”

(Y/N)’s head tilted to the side as her (Y/E/C) eyes studied him but to his surprise and overwhelming gratitude, she didn’t ask him what was wrong or if he was all right. Instead, she took both of his hands in hers and playfully swung their arms while giving him a coy smile. “I was about to try my luck at cooking dinner and since my culinary skills aren’t exactly up to par, I could really use the assistance of a big, strong Avenger. Do you know if any of them are brave enough to accept this dangerous mission?”

“I think I’m up for the challenge, ma’am,” Steve impishly replied and his overstated authoritative tone made (Y/N) giggle as she led him into the kitchen to prepare dinner. “Can I, um, ask what’s on your nose?”

“Oh, it’s for unclogging oil and dead skin cells from pores! It’s a little gross to remove but at the same time, kind of satisfying. Did you want to try one out for yourself?”

“…Sure, why not?”

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

While helping his girlfriend cook dinner wasn’t quite as dangerous of a task as she’d made it out to be, Steve certainly had his hands full with making sure she didn’t over-season or burn anything in her eagerness to prove her minimal culinary skills; most importantly, however, cooking alongside (Y/N) helped to take his mind off the incapacitating loneliness that drove him to her doorstep in the first place. They sat at the dining room table to enjoy their chicken parmigiana with angel hair pasta and broccoli and (Y/N) even brought out a pricier bottle of red wine to enjoy with their food, a gift she claimed was sent by Tony and Pepper to congratulate her for winning the Goodreads Choice Award for Best Historical Fiction. Steve listened to (Y/N) talk about the last-minute touches being placed on what would soon be her second published novel with rapt attention, voicing his amazement when she revealed which of her favorite authors would be joining her at an upcoming writing convention and chuckling as she told him about the playful argument she’d gotten into with her publisher about certain spelling choices in her draft.

After they finished their meal, they cleaned up the sizable mess they’d made in the kitchen, with Steve washing the dirty dishes and (Y/N) drying and putting them away; they fell into a comfortable silence while they worked, and he found himself focusing on her soft humming as he deliberated over whether or not to open up to her about the complex emotions he was fighting to control. He loved his girlfriend with all his heart, but it was because of his love for her that he hesitated to fully open up and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why: he was not only afraid that he’d hurt her feelings if he told her that he still struggled to acclimate to the twenty-first century, but he was also afraid that the truth would only serve to drive her away. The memory-wiping device from that Will Smith alien movie Tony made me watch could solve all of my problems in the blink of an eye, he sullenly thought with a sideways glance at a blissfully unaware (Y/N) putting away their dishes, you can’t miss something that you don’t have any memories of.

With the kitchen scrubbed clean and the comforting sound of a light rainfall outside echoing throughout the cozy home, Steve and (Y/N) took to the couch to watch some television. The historical-fiction novelist dissolved into a fit of giggles after applying a cleansing strip to Steve’s nose and he happily indulged her by posing for the selfie she all but begged for his permission to take. After she took several pictures and disposed of their cleansing strips, he pulled her into his arms and soundly kissed her, finding that the dark cloud that hung over him was slowly but surely dispersing the longer she kissed him back.

“Do you feel like watching a movie?” (Y/N) breathlessly asked after they’d finally separated for air. A knowing smile was beginning to spread across her face as she realized they’d moved positions during their impromptu make-out session; the historical-fiction novelist was lying flat on her back while he held himself above her and as he deviously grinned down at her, she twirled her fingers around his sweatshirt’s drawstrings and shrugged offhandedly. “Not that I have any problem with continuing our current activities, of course-”

“Neither do I.”

His girlfriend’s smirk widened at his hasty reply. “But TCM’s been airing a really good screwball comedy marathon all day, and I was thinking that we could give it a watch. I guarantee that my world-famous Milk Duds-and-popcorn concoction pairs excellently with a glass of top shelf red wine and 1935’s Top Hat, so how ‘bout it?”

Steve’s smile instantly dropped at her otherwise innocuous statement. His lungs began to restrict, his vision blurred and it was as though someone had suddenly flipped a switch inside of his hippocampus; all at once, jarring flashes of cloudy memories flooded his mind and overtook his vision.

Bucky dragging Steve along on another double date and insisting that this one would be different than the other failed dates he’d arranged…his throat constricting as his date scowled at the sight of him…sitting in a darkened theater beside the highly displeased woman and throwing his best friend an envious look as he smoothly draped an arm over his smitten date’s shoulders…trying his damndest to enjoy the hit Astaire & Rogers musical-comedy so that his night wouldn’t be so miserable…

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

Fists tightening in anger when he saw a furious-looking man dragging his date up the aisle while she begged him to calm down…staggering to his feet in the alleyway behind the theater and throwing another punch at the laughing man, only for him to easily dodge and shove him against the nearby dumpster…fighting to catch his breath as he crumpled to the grimy ground and panicking when he recognized the tell-tale signs of an oncoming asthma attack…frantically grabbing at his pockets in search of his asthma cigarettes, fully conscious of Bucky’s shouting and his date’s frightened scream but unable to stop the black dots from invading his vision…

“You’re having a panic attack, Steve, so I need you to take a deep breath. Can you do that for me? C’mon, sweetheart, just breathe.”

Bucky’s hand colliding with his bruised cheek and stunning him back to consciousness long enough for his best friend to practically shove a lit asthma cigarette between his lips…inhaling the smoke and clutching his ribs as his body was wracked with a violent coughing fit…calling out for his mother the moment he regained his breath, only to break down into heaving sobs when he remembered that she’d been gone for nearly six months…

“Steve, look at me.” The sudden feel of his fingers pressed against a soft warmth finally forced Steve’s eyes open; although he was crouched in the corner of his girlfriend’s living room instead of a dingy alleyway behind Bay Ridge’s Alpine Cinema, his chest was still heaving under the strain of regaining his breath and his entire body was trembling. He focused on the blurry figure and realized in a flash of fear that it was (Y/N) kneeling on the floor before him, looking calm and composed as she held his hand against the side of her neck and gently spoke to him. “Take a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, like this.” The historical-fiction novelist completed the breathing exercise and nodded in approval when he shakily copied her. “That’s it, you’re doing so well, sweetheart. What are three things you can see?”

“You,” Steve automatically replied, making his girlfriend smile as his eyes darted around in search of two more items. “Sam’s bowl of wine corks…the lamp that you found at that estate sale a couple of weeks ago.”

“Good, good, but don’t forget to keep on breathing. What’re three things you can hear?”

He took another deep breath and released it before answering. “The rain falling on the rooftop above us…the refrigerator’s ice-maker refilling itself…the ticking of the clock in the entryway.”

(Y/N)’s eyes searched his and he spotted the flicker of trepidation that briefly flashed across them while she studied his features. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart. Now, can you touch three things for me and tell me what you feel?”

“Y-Yeah…” Steve swallowed thickly, his stiff fingers slowly flexing against the skin of his girlfriend’s neck as he focused on all he could feel. “Your pulse. It’s strong and steady. I can feel the warmth of the blood flowing through your veins.” Emboldened by her encouraging nod, he brought his other hand up to rest flat against his chest and stretched out his fingers along the material of his sweatshirt. “My sweatshirt’s soft, and my fingers catch on its embroidered logo…” He lowered his hand to touch the living room’s hardwood floor and winced at the unpleasant sensation. “The floor’s cold. All I can think about is the moment I crashed the Valkyrie into the ice.”

The historical-fiction novelist raised her arms but suddenly halted her movements. “Are you up for a hug right now?” Instead of answering, Steve wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a tight embrace; he buried his face in her neck and squeezed his eyes shut as her arms draped around his shoulders, savoring the weight of her warm body pressed against his and practically preening when her fingers rhythmically carded through his hair. “You can talk to me, Steve. Whatever it is you have to get off your chest, I’ll listen.” He could feel her press a kiss onto his hair. “And if you want to just sit here and enjoy the silence, then I’ll be more than happy to oblige you. I…I don’t want you to be afraid of letting me in; you deserve to feel safe enough to express yourself, sweetheart, no matter what.”

Steve didn’t know how long they sat there in silence before he rested his chin on her shoulder and stared unseeingly at her cozy living room as he finally found his voice. “The first thing that people told me after coming out of the ice was how lucky I was. They told me that surviving the crash and the ice was a blessing in disguise and that I’d have a shot at living a better life – and they were all so damn pleased with themselves as they were saying it, too, like they could claim that they did their one good deed for the day by convincing Captain America that he was better off in the 21st century – and none of ‘em could understand why I wasn’t as happy as the rest of the world was. Fury arranged for me to see a therapist, but I stopped going after the first appointment because I could see that it’d be more of the same ‘be grateful for what you’ve been given’ shit; there was no one I felt that I could talk to, and then after Loki and the Battle of New York happened…well, most everyone stopped trying to get to know me after that. The lack of any genuine companionship meant it was easier for me to hide and even numb my feelings, but when I found myself bonding with you and Nat and Sam, I…I started to become afraid of driving you all away.”

Steve pulled back far enough to meet (Y/N)’s eyes, only realizing he’d started to cry when her hands delicately cradled his face and her thumbs brushed his drying tear tracks away. “Were you afraid of how we’d react if you admitted that you still think about your old life?” There was no hint of judgement in her expression or hostility in her eyes, only patience and consideration, and Steve found himself silently appreciating his girlfriend’s kindhearted nature as he nodded. “Sweetheart, I want you to listen to me very carefully: depriving yourself of emotions is to deprive yourself of humanity. You’re human, Steve, and you’re allowed to feel however you feel. The people who love you love you for who you are and while I can’t speak for Sam or Nat, I want you to know that I’ll never, ever ask you to repress your emotions for my sake.”

“(Y/N)…” Steve softly started as one of his hands moved to caress her cheek. “No matter what, I’m always gonna have these memories of my life without you in my head. I have no way of knowing when or even if I’ll be settled into my new life. Doesn’t that…doesn’t that bother you?”

His girlfriend smiled patiently and shook her head before countering his question with one of her own. “If our roles were reversed and I was the one who’d come out of the ice instead, would you still love and accept me for who I am?”

“Of course I would, sunshine,” Steve replied with conviction.

“Then believe me when I say that I’ll always love and accept you, sweetheart, no matter what.” With tears beginning to well in her own eyes, (Y/N) leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto his forehead. “Please, please believe me.”

Steve’s heart nearly broke at the desperation that laced her plea and he hurriedly nodded. “I believe you, baby.” He gently coaxed her to look up and into his eyes; the unabashed love that he saw emanating from her tear-filled eyes melted something deep within him, encouraging him to rest his forehead against hers and brush the pad of his thumb along her flushed cheek. “I believe you.” They stayed there for an undetermined amount of time, with their arms wrapped around one another and their eyes closed while they relished the warmth of one another’s embrace and listened to the steady patter of rain outside. When Steve felt his heartbeat slow to its usual pace and his limbs stop their trembling, he trailed his hand down from his girlfriend’s cheek to rest against her chest, in the space directly over her heart; he wasn’t sure why, but the steady beating of her heart against his palm was soothing to him. “Thank you for helping me through all of that; if I’d gone through it alone, I’d still be spiraling right about now.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, about how often do you go through a panic attack?”

Opening his eyes, Steve considered her question for several moments as he took in the consideration that was written across her face. “A couple of times a month,” He replied with a wistful smile. “They started right after I came out of the ice, but they’ve been happening a little more frequently lately.”

(Y/N) offered him a sympathetic smile. “You know, I may not be a Certified Kick-Ass Counselor like Sam is but if I learned anything from working with him down at the VA, it’s that acknowledging your feelings can be a great first step towards healing.” He hummed thoughtfully and took in her words as her fingers smoothed down his rumpled hair. “When you start to feel another panic attack coming on, you can always give me a call and I’ll do whatever I can to help you through it, okay? You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“I’m not sure how it’ll live up to this…” Steve’s arms wound back around the historical-fiction novelist’s waist and pulled her in close with a content smile on his face. “But I promise you I will.” The familiar jingle of their local ten o’clock news sounded throughout the living room, causing him to give his girlfriend an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, we’re probably missing that screwball comedy marathon you wanted to watch, aren’t we?”

“It’s okay, I’ll just head down to Barnes & Noble one of these days and buy the Blu-Rays. Besides, I think that now’s the perfect time to introduce you to one of favorite comfort movies, but only if you’re up for it.”

Steve, touched by the consideration she was continuously showing for him and his mental health, swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and pressed a chaste kiss onto her lips, pulling back after a moment with a playful grin. “I’m up for anything, so long as it’s with my best girl…and her world-famous Milk Duds-and-popcorn concoction, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” (Y/N) readily agreed as she fought the smirk of amusement that was threatening to spread across her face; after extricating herself from his embrace, she hopped to her feet and offered him her hand, lacing her fingers around his once he stood and leading him into the kitchen as she continued. “We’ll make my not-so-secret recipe, pop open another bottle of pricey wine, and then we’ll be all set to watch 1978’s Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band!”

“That’s the Beatles, right? So, does that mean the movie’s about the album?”

“…You’ll see.”

Needless to say, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was one of the strangest movies Steve had ever seen, but it was also one of the most entertaining movie-watching experiences he’d ever had; he chuckled at all of the corny yet earnest moments, watched in admiration as his girlfriend sang along to each and every one of the Beatles songs that played and even caught himself tearing up at the few emotional moments, all while indulging in some delicious popcorn and wine. Steve’s arms were holding (Y/N) close while they lounged across the couch and it was then, as the historical-fiction novelist in his arms sang her heart out to the film’s absurd yet catchy version of ‘Get Back,’ that he realized he felt more grounded in reality than he’d felt in a long, long time.

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

Three days later, Steve was returning to his room in the Avengers Facility after a long intelligence briefing with the rest of the team when he spotted a box sitting in front of his suite’s locked door. I don’t remember ordering anything online, he thought to himself as he cautiously picked up the box and brought it inside; their mail was regularly scanned and checked for explosives and biological weapons upon arrival and while Steve was fond of bidding on used vinyl records on Ebay, he hadn’t logged into his account since well before his mission in Argentina.

“Please don’t be another ‘Over The Hill’ shirt from Tony,” He sighed under his breath, setting the package down onto his bed and retrieving his pocket knife from his dresser drawer.

Steve carefully sliced through the packing tape and pushed open the cardboard flaps, his head tilting to the side when his eyes landed on a misshapen bundle of bubble wrap inside. His interest piqued, he unfurled the piece of bubble wrap and his brows rose in surprise when a large stuffed black and white cow tumbled out onto his comforter; a small card was attached to the sky-blue bow around the stuffed animal’s neck, and he wasted no time in detaching it and reading its brief contents.

Sweetheart,

Meet Buttercup the Cow! I did a little research and found out that weighted stuffed animals can help reduce feelings of anxiety and even ground someone who’s experiencing a panic attack; whenever you begin to feel yourself spiraling or getting lost in your memories, hold Buttercup and imagine that I’m right there with you, giving you the biggest hug imaginable.

With all my love,

Your Sunshine

Steve’s eyes prickled with unshed tears as he placed the heartfelt note down on his dresser, right beside the framed sketch he’d drawn of his beautiful girlfriend long before they began to date. He picked up the stuffed cow and tested its weight in his hands before hugging it tight to his chest; he could already feel his shoulders relaxing and when he nuzzled his cheek against the soft fabric, he realized that the clever historical-fiction novelist had sprayed some of her perfume – Design by Paul Sebastian – onto the stuffed cow. Breathing in the familiar notes of tuberose and jasmine, Steve briefly closed his eyes as he smiled to himself and thought about how much he loved his girlfriend and her kind heart.

A brilliant idea suddenly came to Steve’s mind and after setting Buttercup down on his pillow, he pulled a jacket on, tucked his wallet into his back pocket and scooped up his motorcycle’s keys, hurrying out of his suite and down the hall to the common room; Sam was in the middle of making a sandwich while Wanda and Vision sat together on the sofa debating their favorite sitcoms, the counselor looking up from his half-made meal and flashing him a welcoming smile. “Hey, man, we’re gonna do a little team bonding and watch Modern Family while we eat lunch; you want a sandwich or a wrap?”

“Thanks for the offer, Sam, but I’ve gotta go run an errand,” Steve replied with an apologetic look and twirled his keys around his finger. “Do you happen to know where the nearest Barnes & Noble is?”

“Um, I think there’s one up in Kingston…?”

“1200 Ulster Avenue.” They both looked over at their android teammate as he nonchalantly continued. “According to all available data, the store sees low to moderate business around this time, and the traffic appears to be light.”

An impressed Steve gave him an appreciative nod. “Thanks, Vis.”

Their exchange caught Wanda’s attention, causing her to look up from her box set of DVD’s and arch a curious brow. “You usually detest going out on errands. Is everything all right?”

“Yep, I’ve just got some Blu-Rays I need to buy.” He flashed his befuddled teammates a grin as he brusquely headed out of the common room. “I’ll see you guys later!”

As he jogged down the steps and crossed their private parking lot towards his motorcycle, the cell phone in his pocket chimed; he swung his leg over and sat as he pulled his phone out to check his text messages, chuckling to himself after reading his friend’s brief message.

Sam: If you show up at Booksmart’s doorstep with a box set of old Cary Grant flicks, she just might ask you to marry her on the spot 😂

Glancing up towards the floor-to-ceiling window in the common room and spotting an amused Sam watching him, Steve grinned and gave the counselor a teasing salute before revving up the engine and taking off. I can’t think of a better outcome than that, he thought to himself as he sped down the road, a truly happy smile spreading across her face at the mental image of someday marrying the love of his life.

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

A/N: And there we have it! I promise, the next one-shot will be a little happier and although I haven't decided which movie/show I wanna tackle next, I'm sure that little series will be happier too! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Stumblin’ In Book II: “Age of Ultron” Masterlist

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345@crist1216​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​ ​​​​​@groovy-lady @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

[beep-beep-robin]

eddie absolutely hates the task of cleaning his van. he shrugs and tells the kids to clean it themselves or get another ride when they complain about the state of it.

so when he picks them up one day and it's clean, not only on the outside but also on the inside, they're surprised. but they put it off as a one time thing, because he HAS to clean his car at least like once a year, right?

but it keeps happening. it doesn't get dirty anymore. it's almost like there's some magical thing going on that just... keeps his van clean at all times. at this point they're too worried about losing their ride to ask though.

little do they know that it's not anything magical that's happening to eddie's van, but steve harrington. he witnessed the state of it a few times when eddie picked him up so they could go to a quiet spot and smoke a bit, and he was definitely not happy about it.

he asked eddie if he even cared about his van if he let it get this dirty, because he could never imagine doing that to his own car. and eddie explained that the van is his baby, but he just can't muster up the energy to clean it. it's like everytime he sets his mind on cleaning it, he gets distracted by more important things or he just freezes up on the couch and does nothing, getting lost in a movie or book until he doesn't have time to clean it anymore. sure, it's not his favorite task, but he does WANT to clean it for the cars sake.

so steve offered to clean it for him. and at first eddie declined, he couldn't let someone else do something that was his responsibility, but steve insisted that it was actually something that he enjoys doing. that he cleans his own car more often than necessary because he likes doing it.

so they came to an agreement. steve would clean eddies car once a week, and eddie would just be there to keep him company. which is mainly why eddie said yes to the proposition, he definitely likes spending time with steve. and eddie didn't know it, but the fact that steve likes cleaning cars wasn't the main point that made him make that offer to eddie.

(when max witnesses steve cleaning the van in front of eddies trailer one time, she immediately tells the others. sure, they know that steve's very particular about his own car but why is he cleaning eddies? and then she sees eddie watching the way that steve leans over the hood to get the dirt of the windshield with a slight blush on his face that's almost not visible because he's hiding it behind a strand of his hair. and suddenly she gets it.)

(that doesn't change the fact that they're all definitely getting on eddie's nerves about this whole situation the next time they're all in his van because how could they not.)

[weirdbrothers]

Stranger Things Fic Rec

Let me get one thing out of the way: absolutely nobody asked for this. But I love these pairings and stories so much I had to share it with you all. This is heavy on Steve/Billy with some Steve/Eddie sprinkled in.

If you've never read Stranger Things fic, or when you saw this post thought "oh yeah, that 80s kid monster show" I encourage you to give these a try! You don't have to know much about the show besides the bare bones of the plot. (And my ask box is always open for Qs!) If you like angsty teenage boys who are in denial about their feelings and hate their hometown, read on.

Now, on to the porn and depravity!

if i stare too long by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | Steve/Eddie/Billy

After the end of the world, Billy Hargrove is a mess. But at least he has company.

Notes: Literally one of my favorite fics of all time, I will never shut up about it. Gay threesomes. Angst. A sweltering midwestern summer. Homoerotic undertones that builds to filthy gay porn. The vibes are all there.

Pressure by Yellow_Blue_Books | Steve/Eddie

"You never did tell me your name," he called at Munson's back. The older man was already in the trees when he turned back around and stated his name, eyes bright and grin wide. Steve never heard it; he couldn't read his lips from so far a distance between them. So instead, he watched Munson walk away; the teen, now wide awake, went to sit on the hood of his car to wait for Hopper to show. On that crisp, cold January night in 1985 - Steve Harrington heard the sound of Eddie Munson's voice for the first and last time. He never even knew his name.

Notes: The only WIP on this rec list, and totally worth the wait. Great characterization. So many little tidbits of information that have me squealing with joy. But also dark and grounded in reality.

chokechain by @brawlite | Steve/Billy (and Tommy is there)

Tommy H. invites Billy to a party at Steve's house. Billy expected hot chicks and booze, but when he shows up, there's only the latter. Steve and Tommy teach Billy that in Hawkins, sometimes you just gotta make do.

Notes: When I think of this fic I literally start sweating its so sexy. The fic that got me hooked on Steve/Billy and gay Steve in general. Its so subtle and gritty and grimy and hot. And Tommy is egging everyone on, yet oblivious, just how I like him.

so good at being in trouble, so bad at being in love by @the-copperkid Steve/Billy

Steve's sophomore year, Billy showed up.

Notes: A fandom classic. The perfect example of Steve/Billy getting together in world, and dealing with their feelings (+ porn, because I'm me and I need porn in all my fic).

We'll Go Down in History by @eternalgoldfish | Billy/Steve

Hawkins High takes a field trip to Baltimore to see historical sites and Steve would rather jump out his hotel window.

Notes: So much teenage angst and tomfoolery in this one! A little more lighthearted than others on the list. Gets to that theme in ST that I love: the idle hands of teenage boys are the devil's playthings.

Dom 4 Hire by @lazybakerart

Steve is naked, on his hands and knees, in the apartment he shares with his high school sweetheart for a man he only just met in person five minutes ago.

Notes: From the second I saw Steve Harrington on screen I knew that boy was a sub dying for someone to call him a good boy. And Billy is just the dom for the job. My only complaint is that I wish this was longer!

Maybe we're something uncool by desert_dino | Steve/Billy

It’s only noon; Billy knows neither of them have work that evening, and their shitty gen-ed biology lab was cancelled. They’ve only been hanging out for an hour, and maybe Billy isn’t quite done fucking around with Harrington yet. Maybe he’ll indulge him.

Notes: Cocky Billy is what the world needs! Great banter and dialogue. Just a snapshot of what I imagine their afternoons would look like, and the teens of Hawkins would be like "why the fuck are they always hanging out?" totally oblivious.

slipping through by sightetsound | Steve/Billy

It was the weed, and the pilfered whiskey from Steve’s daddy dearest they passed back and forth. It was actually how Steve’s eyes caught the moonlight. How his mouth moved when he spoke, and how it curved on a grin Billy would call relaxed when they were alone. Admitting as much felt too much like giving ground, and so it was the weed and whiskey.

Notes: Really bittersweet, heartfelt, and sincere. A different kind of pace for this pairing.

You Get Too Close by @trashcangimmick | Steve/Billy

Steve sits at the back of the bus on the way to a basketball match in Gary. Billy Hargrove sits right across from him.

Notes: Be for real- when we saw that basketball and shower scene we were all hoping it would go in the direction of this fic. Gives me the vibe of an 80s porno in the best way.

Reflecting on the Longest Wavelength by @trashcangimmick | Billy/Hopper

Billy’s heat hits early. Jim Hopper happens to find him before anyone else does. 

Notes: This pairing is a little rouge, I don't see it often and its hard to pin down for me past all the basic tropes. I really like the A/B/O world-building here and find myself returning to it.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x WednesdayAddams!reader [1K]

“A what?”

Dustin and Lucas stood in front of the counter of Family Video with expressions etched with concern. They shuffled from foot to foot and Dustin repeated himself, voice a little unsure. 

“A raccoon.”

Steve blinked. 

“In the van?” He asked. “In Eddie’s van? A raccoon?”

“Yeah, in the back,” Dustin confirmed, the same time as Lucas explained:

“She said she wanted a pet.”

And that’s how Robin was left in charge of the store that afternoon, smothering her laughter behind a copy of Aliens as Steve grabbed his jacket and car keys, muttering under his breath about how ‘she said she was going to adopt a cat.’

“Watch your fingers!” Robin called after him, “they have rabies, you know.”

So Steve followed the younger boys down the sidewalk, around the block until the small roadside stores turned into larger units, the arcade doors flashing with lights and the tinny sounds of pinball machines and Pac-Man music.

Eddie’s van sat in the parking lot, with the owner sitting on the hood, lips curled in amusement. You were leaning against the side door, arms crossed and face sullen, and despite the Indiana sun above, you were in all black as usual. 

When Steve approached the van, he heard scratching a scuffling, a small chitter and then a bang, like something fell over. 

“That thing better not be fuckin’ with my amps, Persephone.”

You rolled your eyes and stood your ground, lips twisted into a pout as Steve approached, hands held out as he asked you:

“Babe, what the fuck?”

“Language, Steven.”

Lucas and Dustin snorted but they didn’t come any closer to the van, choosing to stay by the curb instead. Eddie slumped off of the hood and joined Steve beside you, grinning at his friend. He raised his brows and shrugged before Steve could say anything. 

‘What did you expect?’ His expression said. 

“A raccoon?” Steve exclaimed, looking from you and Eddie and back again. “A real, live-ass raccoon?”

You snorted and pushed off of the van, black skirt swishing around your thighs. You leaned into the boy, kissed his cheek sweetly and that’s how Steve knew you were up to something he wouldn’t approve of. 

“Would you prefer it if it were dead?” You asked, blinking up at him. 

Steve frowned, a furrow between his brows that you always thought was awfully cute and if you weren’t in front of company, you’d soothe it away with a finger. 

“No,” he said, sounding strangled, “I wouldn’t.”

Eddie snorted again and another chitter came from behind the van door. “That thing has definitely shit on the carpet.”

“And you,” Steve rounded on the boy, finger poked to his chest—

“—me?” Eddie grinned unapologetically, lips stretched wide and bright. 

“—you!” Steve agreed, “what’re you doing letting her put a raccoon in your van?”

“It wouldn’t stay in my bag,” you complained, facial expression still unwaveringly emotionless despite the way Eddie was cackling and Steve was swearing. 

“Your bag? Jesus Christ, no… I thought you were going to adopt a cat!” Steve swung round to face Eddie again and everyone but you flinched when the animal inside the van let out a hiss. “You said you were taking her to get a cat!”

Eddie shrugged again, curls flopping in his eyes as he ducked his chin to light a cigarette. He was far too blasé about the entire scenario ‘cause he patted Steve’s shoulder and calmly told him: “we went for a walk in the woods instead.”

Steve blew out a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why?”

“Bones,” you answered plainly. 

“Bones,” Eddie repeated with another grin, as if it were obvious. 

From the sidewalk, Lucas and Dustin took another step back. 

“Bones,” Steve stated, voice void of any emotion ‘cause it was only past lunch and he was more than done with this day. “Baby, we talked about the bone thing—”

You pushed yourself to him, arms needling through his and Steve couldn’t help but falter, because all this affection was usually reserved for behind closed doors, away from the prying eyes of his friends. He felt himself soften, a hand coming to cup the back of your neck as you looked up at him, eyes wide and unblinking. 

Only he could see the softness there, the kick up of your mouth, that almost smile that felt like his own secret. You rested your chin on his chest as you spoke, words quiet and matter of fact. 

“I needed more.”

“What for, exactly?” Eddie interrupted, blowing smoke to the sky as he watched the two of you, “we never really got to talkin’ about that part.”

You ignored him. 

“You don’t need anymore bones,” Steve sighed, but his free hand caught your waist, fingers squeezing and suddenly he didn’t feel as exasperated as he did a minute ago, ‘cause you smelled like lavender and sage and you were pressed up warm against him. “That doesn’t explain the raccoon, either.”

“Is it like a project? Are you makin’ something with the bones?” Eddie was still talking, words going ignored as you kept your gaze on Steve. 

“I told you I wanted a pet,” you reminded him sullenly and you had, that very morning as Steve left you in his bed in nothing but a pair of black underwear and one of his most colourful shirts. 

Steve ducked his chin down to you, pressed his nose to your forehead and tried not to laugh because this was beyond ridiculous now and the animal in the van was still chittering. 

“You said a cat.”

Eddie snorted. 

“It’s like a cat.”

“No, no, it’s really not,” Lucas called out and Dustin was grimacing as he shook his head. “It’s much angrier. Like, borderline furious.”

“They have weird little hands,” Dustin yelled across the lot, and he wiggled his own in front of him. “And thumbs too! Tiny thumbs that can open stuff.”

The raccoon scratched at the inside of the door and Steve and Eddie flinched, taking a step back as Steve dragged you with him, your arms still around his back. 

“How did you even get it in there?” He eyed the van warily and wondered what the fuck he was supposed to do with an angry raccoon. 

“It kinda just followed her,” Eddie explained. He frowned, contemplating what he’d witnessed earlier. “It was pretty spooky, actually. Your girl is weird, Harrington.”

You preened.

[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Last Steve Harrington Part 18

AO3 / Part 1 / Part 17

Steve loved the tape. He loved it almost as much as he loved taking his car out for long drives. He didn’t go anywhere; he just rolled the windows down and turned the volume up. Sometimes he parked on the side of the road and laid down on the hood, smoking and looking at the sky, enjoying the quiet and the wind playing with his hair. Other times, he drove as fast as he could on old highway roads, when there were no other cars for miles and only Eddie’s tape for company.

The songs he chose were equal parts expected and unexpected. Steve could tell that Eddie had toned down his own tastes to pick songs that he thought Steve would enjoy. There were a few that he recognized and some that were new. He liked the first song because the lyrics reminded him of Will and Eleven.

Evil power disappears Demons worry when the wizard is near He turns tears into joy Everyone's happy when the wizard walks by

The middle of the tape got much wilder and louder and were all songs that Steve could imagine Eddie screaming and banging his head along to. One of the last songs was probably his favourite, the beat was great and he loved the vocals and lyrics. It was one that he recognized though he didn’t know if it was because Eds showed it to him or if he heard it on the radio on his own.

I've been too long, I'm glad to be back Yes, I'm let loose From the noose That's kept me hanging about I've been looking at the sky 'Cause it's gettin' me high Forget the hearse 'cause I never die

And the last song, of course, was Like a Virgin by Madonna. Steve burst out laughing when he finished the tape for the first time. He loved it. He didn’t know how Eddie managed to create a playlist that suited both of their tastes so well. As curious as he was to listen to the B side – he held off for now. When he got home, he ran for the phone, dialing Eddie’s number quickly from memory.

“Hello!”

“Like a Virgin, Munson? Really?”

Eddie’s laughter crackled through the phone and Steve’s clutched the receiver closer to his ear, as if he could prevent the sound from escaping into the air, could keep it all for himself.

“Courtesy of one Robin Buckley, my friend! Had to be included, she said.”

“I’m surprised she was able to strong arm you, especially with music. Madonna on a tape you made?” Steve tsked into the phone with fake disappointment.

“Steve, that woman is truly frightening when she sets her mind on something.”

“So, it was collaborative? And here I was giving you all the credit.”

“Oh, big word for you, Harrington. I asked for her input, she vetoed one or two of my songs… and then made me put on Madonna. Never asking her for help again,” Eddie mumbled, causing Steve to laugh.

“So,” Eddie drawled out slowly, drawing out the syllables. “You liked it?”

“I loved it! Haven’t listened to the other side yet… I’m saving it, I guess? For when I need it.”

Eddie hummed in understanding.

“Which song did you like the best?”

“It’s near the end, I’ve heard it before but don’t know the name. Back in Black?”

“No need to try and be cool, Steve. I already know your favourite is Like a Virgin.”

“Asshole,” Steve said trying to hold back more laughter, a smile very clear in his voice. “You made the tape, maybe it’s your favourite.”

Eddie gasped in outrage. “How dare you?” he asked in a scandalized tone.  “It is called Back in Black, by the way. By AC/DC.”

“Hey, why didn’t you put any –” Steve began but was cut off by Joyce.

“Steve? Is that you?” she yelled.

He held his hand over the bottom of the phone and shouted, “yeah.”

Putting the phone back up to his ear he told Eddie, “sorry, gotta go. Thanks again for the tape, I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Yup, see ya then. Next time I’ll put Madonna on the tape first so you don’t have to skip so many good songs to get to –”

Steve laughed and hung up before he could finish. He was still smiling softly to himself when Joyce walked into the kitchen.

“Who were you talking to?” she asked.

“Eddie.”

“Oh? Making more plans for the trailer?”

“Yup. And talking about music. I finally finished the tape he made me. Well, the first side anyway.”

She nodded and moved around him, going to the fridge and pulling out ingredients. She was smiling a little and Steve wondered what had put her in a good mood.

“I was thinking spaghetti tonight?” she asked. “You have to show me how to make that sauce you did last time. It was delicious.”

“Sure,” Steve said. “The secret is Heinz 57.”

Joyce popped her head out of the fridge. “The steak sauce?”

“Yup, about three tablespoons.”

“Huh, I never would have guessed,” she said and grabbed the bottle out of the fridge door, adding it to the growing pile of ingredients on the counter.

Steve went over to the sink to wash his hands before grabbing the peppers and onions. He started chopping them and didn’t notice when he started humming happily to himself.

But Joyce did.

Wednesday was a slow day at Family Video. It was just Steve running the store and he had already done all his work for the day unless someone actually came in to rent a movie. Which he highly doubted would happen at –

He glanced at the clock and groaned when he saw it was only noon. He morosely flipped through a magazine that Robin had left, feeling time drag on…

And on…

And on...

He thought about putting on a movie but couldn’t really be bothered to do it.

After what felt like an eternity later (but was probably only thirty minutes) the bell chimed over the door. Steve looked up excitedly when he saw Dustin coming in. The excitement quickly dried up however, when he saw the steely determined look on his face. He stomped over to where Steve was leaning against the counter, eyes angry and hands bawled into fists.  

“Henderson, what’s wrong?”

“You!” Dustin shouted and Steve flinched back.

“What –”

“You won’t talk to me! You avoid me, Steve! I know you do.”

He opened his mouth to deny it but stopped himself from saying the words. Dustin deserved the truth. When he had decided to talk to him at Eddie’s a few nights ago, he thought he would have more time to get his thoughts together. He should have known that Dustin would get tired of his avoidance and do something about it. He had never been the type of person to shy away from uncomfortable situations.

“You’re right,” Steve said. “I have been avoiding you.”

“Why?” Dustin asked in the heart-breaking way of a child trying to understand a fundamental law of the universe. Why would you do that? Why would you hurt me that way? Why why why?

“When you look at me, I can tell sometimes that you’re not really seeing me…” Steve said, holding Dustin’s gaze. “You’re seeing him. You all do, to some extent. Robin does a good job of hiding it but I see it when she thinks I’m not looking. I can take it with the others, I get it. But with you – it hurts more when it’s you because –” Steve cut himself off and looked away, unsure of how to continue without causing more pain. “I needed to know that you saw me, that you wanted to know me,” he finished.

“How was I supposed to get to know you? I tried to talk to you, to include you but all you did was ignore me, even when I was right beside you! I wanted to know you, Steve… but you didn’t let me.”

Steve winced, knowing that Dustin was right. He had unilaterally decided that it was impossible, that Dustin would always miss Other Steve – would always rather have Other Steve – than him. He had stayed away, kept his distance, because he was afraid that he would never measure up to the brother he had lost.

“I was the one who wouldn’t let Eleven give up, you know. She wanted to stop but I begged her to keep looking. I knew you were out there. Then we found you and you’re here… but you’re not – at least not for me,” he said dejectedly, his shoulders hunched and his face defeated.

Of course Dustin would be upset, seeing how Steve had slowly been getting closer to everyone… except him. He hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he saw that he had – deeply. He needed to fix it. He needed to fix it now. The look on his face was one that Steve never wanted to see again. That he had put it there made his chest feel tight with self-loathing.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I didn’t let you. I kept you at arm’s length because – because I was afraid that even if you did get to know me you still wouldn’t be able to see me as separate from your Steve. Or if you did, that you’d be disappointed…that I’m not –” Steve trailed off. His inadequacies compared to Other Steve were something that he didn’t think would ever go away. The fact that he was in this universe at all was a testament to how much they loved him. How much they couldn’t let him go.

“Disappointed?” Dustin repeated, shaking his head. “I like the things that make you different. You play D&D, you loved Eddie… you fucking lived. I do keep looking for my Steve but it’s not for the reasons you think. Jesus, Steve – you have no idea. I see him sometimes, just like Robin probably does – but it’s because it’s rare that we look so hard. You really are a different person and I don’t think it’s only because of the year you survived alone. So yes, I look for him sometimes but that doesn’t mean I don’t see you. I like you for the things that remind me of him and for the things that make you different.”

That was… unexpected. Had he been misinterpreting the looks everyone had been giving him this whole time? No, he couldn’t have been that wrong. At least not in the beginning. Had it changed and he hadn’t noticed?

His whole worldview was being upended and he didn’t know how to handle it. The uncertainty must have shown on his face because Dustin came around to the other side of the counter. Steve turned and waited until he was standing in front of him – but he still didn’t know what to say. His mind was spinning, hopeful yet confused.

“Do you see me, Steve?” Dustin asked, turning the question back on him. “Or do you see the Dustin you lost?”

The question hurt; the pain cutting because that was the problem, wasn’t it? He wanted Dustin to be able to do something that he wasn’t able to do himself. But how unfair had he been to deny them both a relationship they wanted because of his failure?

“Both,” he whispered the agonizing truth. “Always both.”

He thought this truth would hurt Dustin in the same way that it always hurt himself, but the younger boy smiled at him instead. Small and with so much understanding and Steve was thrown by the maturity he saw in it.

“You haven’t given us enough credit, Steve. We knew when we went looking that you weren’t going to be the same as the Steve that we lost – but we went looking anyway. You think it wasn’t something we talked about? That we might find a version of you that didn’t even know us? That we might find a Steve who was so different from who we knew as to be unrecognizable? It didn’t matter, we needed to know – I needed to know that a version of you was alive somewhere. Then we found your universe. A universe that looked so irreparably different from ours that we didn’t expect you to be like our Steve at all.” Tears welled in Dustin’s eyes and his voice turned raspy as he said with quiet weight, “but you were still his brother.”

“I was,” Steve said around the emotion tightening his throat.

“So, why can’t you be mine?” Dustin asked, voice breaking.  

The question was soft, quiet – brave. Innocently simple. Why can’t you be my mine? And the answer, of course, was that he could be. So why were the words so hard to say? He nodded quickly and the hope burning in Dustin’s eyes cut right through him. He had told himself to fix it; so that’s what he did.

“I can be,” Steve said with determination and sincerity. “I want to be.”

It didn’t matter, in the end, whose memories belonged to whom. Dustin was Dustin and Steve was Steve and everything they had gone through was still theirs. It didn’t matter that Dustin had lost Steve and Steve had lost Dustin – because right now, they were standing in front of each other, alive. With all the shared history of family between them, and how could Steve deny the miracle of that?

Dustin smiled, widely and toothily and rushed into his arms.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” Steve said into his hair, holding him closer.

“Never,” Dustin said, clutching him back just as tightly.

Steve couldn’t explain it – but the universe felt right all of a sudden. A missing piece of the puzzle had been found and the whole picture finally made sense. His wrong-footed shoes felt right, comfortable even. They released each other after a moment, surreptitiously wiping their eyes.

“Does this mean you’ll play D&D with us?” Dustin asked sheepishly.

Steve barked out a laugh and reached out to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah,” he said around a wide smile. “I’ll play.”

@just-a-tiny-void @mx-jinxous @child-of-cthulhu @awholedamnmesstbh @phoenix0bird @bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @hbyrde36 @a-gae-af-racoon @novelnovella @meela86 @lenathegay @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries @espressopatronum454 @r0binscript @seths-rogens @fruity-nerd @sani-86 @n0-1-important @swimmingbirdrunningrock @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @paintsplatteredandimperfect @viridianphtalo @goodolefashionedloverboi @13catastrophic-blues @newtstabber @tinytalkingtina @whole-moods @queenie-ofthe-void @nailbatanddungeon

-Hello everyone, I apologize deeply for how long this has taken. No piece of writing has challenged me more than this… I struggled so deeply to have these characters express their emotions in a realistic way. Every word was painstakingly chosen, rewritten, changed, changed back, deleted, and agonized over. That whole scene changed so so many times and I really love certain moments and I am completely unhappy with others. I would love any and all feedback! -If you'd like the full playlist for Eddie's tape please check out my note on this chapter on AO3 :)

[sapphirerogers]

Instead of ranting about Alba Baptista, her outfits, the pictures of them and so on, why don't you use that all that pent up energy to create something positive, for example, What If S2 Rogers Hood fanfics, because he's a wonderful character, and it's a really interesting setting that deserves to be exploited in fanfics? Or maybe alternate endings to ep 5 that don't completely dismiss Bucky and his lifetime bond with Steve?

Now I know some of you have zero creative ability and you're here just to doom scroll, read and reblog, and that's okay as long as you don't make this app a living hell for other people who don't see eye to eye with you. But please find something better to do than obsess over two strangers who literally do not affect your life in any way whatsoever and please stop bashing a woman against whom there's virtually zero proof of whatever claims you're making.

No, "a man is known by the company he keeps" does not apply to a friendship/relationship you've only seen online pictures of. You do not know the true nature of Alba's friendship with Justin and Kiko, so the assumption that she must share and/or be a supporter of the same beliefs as them is just harmful.

You'd have a lot to say about my mother if you knew her for a while, things not unlike what you say about Alba, but just because I share a roof with her and have some kind of a bond with her does NOT mean I am racist/transphobic/queerphobic like her. You would not have the right to pass judgment on me unless you knew me personally. By the same logic, you don't know shit about Alba's personal life so you definitely should not be talking shit about her.

No I am not supporting discriminative and offensive behaviour out of fondness for a handsome actor (I actually love him for more than looks, not that you care). If that were the case, I wouldn't have had the courage to spend an entire evening reading up everything I could find about Alba Baptista - I'd just be brushing everything under the carpet. I am saying everything I'm saying right now because I did my research and my verdict is that she does not deserve this harrassment.

As for whether it's PR or a real relationship, it actually doesn't fucking matter to you or me or anyone in this godforsaken fandom (why am I even calling it a fandom when most of you are just haters?) The world does not spin differently based on Chris Evans' marriage. Maybe yours does, and that's sad, but the big blue geoid we live on certainly doesn't.

Tumblr can be used for much better purposes than wishing death and destruction on an otherwise unproblematic man whose only crime is marrying a woman who isn't one of you.

[trashmouth-richie]

ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ

MODERN! EDDIE x FEM! READER

MODERN! KING! STEVE x FEM READER

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

summary: taking the back roads to Indianapolis was Eddie’s idea. the day trip there was Steve’s. But when Wayne’s borrowed truck grinds to a halt on the hottest day in September, the tension and the boys’ tempers aren’t the only thing to rise.

warnings: 18+ smut, alcohol use, drug use, drug mention, kinda sadboy! Eddie, king Steve being king Steve, modern times so things such as google and Snapchat are mentioned. no use of y/n, reader has a nickname, pet name usage.

The blazing swell of the late September sun had been pelting down on you all day. Stuffed right between your best friend Eddie and his best friend Steve, the humid Midwest air trickled through the open windows in a hazy wave of oven door heat. 

  Between Steve’s hair-brained idea of driving to Indianapolis for tickets to the annual Irvington Halloween Festival and Eddie’s even more ridiculous idea of taking Wayne’s single cab truck, without A/C to make the 4 hour round trip drive— it was no surprise when the clunking metal of the brown ‘86 Chevy spluttered to a grinding stop alongside the highway. 

  100 miles from Hawkins, and nothing but pent up anger boiling at the surface to keep you all company.

  “Oh this is just great Munson,” Steve groaned, swinging open his door and slamming it shut with a metallic bang. A ring of sweat set deep in the Hawkins athletic shirt he was wearing, a heavy hand pushing his hair from his face, “dude, let’s take the truck!” he mocks the long haired metal head, “fuckin’ told you this would happen!” 

  The boys weren’t exactly getting along for the entirety of this trip. Eddie and you had made plans to decorate your apartment tonight for Halloween, a month too early just like you did every year, a night full of themed snacks and cheesy 80s horror movies, the perfect opportunity to finally make his move. 

  But when Steve showed up at the light blue trailer looking for his wingman to help him score at Hargrove’s party— he was less than impressed to find you peeking around Eddie’s outstretched arm holding open the door, a shit-eating grin on your face. Even more pissed when Eddie told him that you would be tagging along. A roll of his eyes and a scoff on his lips as he pounded down the concrete steps. 

  Steve wasn’t your favorite and you definitely weren’t his. He didn’t get the appeal.. Always too loud, too annoying, acting like one of the boys when clearly you were just too insecure to have any friends that were girls. 

  As he stomped through the dead grass he told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that you turned him down freshman year, never mind that it was six years ago and Steve had plenty of girls added to his belt, his snap score and drawer full of stolen panties proved it. Never mind that his bruised ego from that night at a bonfire in the woods pushed him into his King Steve era. He flicked a cigarette into the dirt, muttering under his breath. 

  “Fuck off, Harrington.” Eddie gripes as he shoves the gear shift into neutral, he lowers down to his left and pulls the hood jack towards him. “It’ll be an easy fix.” He says to you, his breath fanning your sweaty cheek as he shoves open the door and jumps out, boots crunching along the gravel as he pushes the hood open. 

  To be fair, Wayne’s truck had about a 50/50 chance of making the trek to Indianapolis, but Eddie had wanted to take it for a few reasons, and not one of them was for a trip down memory lane like he had told Steve. 

  The first reason he wanted to drive the truck opposed to Steve’s BMW, was lol was because it was a stick shift. An opportunity to let him float the gears and have his veins pop out that he knew was a panty wetter for most girls, he had only hoped you fit into that category. 

  The second reason was simple: there was no air conditioning, meaning the small tank top you were wearing would undoubtedly become very hot, and maybe… just maybe you would think of taking it off to cool down. 

  And finally the third reason mimicked the first… you would be sitting bitch in the middle, and with each shift between gears, his arm would be sliding around the soft plains of your luscious thighs. The same thighs that were bare besides a high waisted pair of cut off shorts that had his mind flipping the perv meter to dangerous levels when you hopped off your bike this morning.

  Greeting him with the same smile that cooked his brain to mush for years. 

  Only today— you were starting to flirt back with him, pushing your ass out and bending at the waist just to untie your shoes. Even though in the history of forever, you had never once taken off your worn converse in the Munson trailer. You also were wearing a tank top, accentuating your curves, and Eddie was ready to chew a hole in the makeshift drywall of his trailer when you bounced up the steps to greet him. 

  Usually you hid your body with a baggy shirt and a pair of jeans, your fuck-off attitude is what earned you the right to have Eddie as a friend in the first place. 

  Tonight he was going to push the limits, share a joint with you when the yellow harvest sun dipped low into the indigo trees, kiss your ear with chapped lips while he held you when the movie had a jump scare… he had a plan. And Steve ‘cockblock’ Harrington was being the worst wingman of all time. 

  Sliding out of Eddie’s door, the Navajo rug blanket snags against the cracked leather of the worn seat. The back of your knees were sticky and shiny with sweat, same as your cleavage, not a single stitch of wind to be found along the gravel road— unless you counted Steve’s annoyed huffs.

—

  Steve bitched and moaned the entire time Eddie was bent over the truck. Investigating what had gone wrong, “aren’t you supposed to be some sorta mechanic?” He grumbled, pushing his hair from his forehead, slotting his hands back into place around the Levi’s on his athletic hips, “swear to God if you make me miss this party, and what Lily has been teasing me with on snap,” his eyes roll into the back of his head at the thought of it, almost letting out a desperate whine.. “I’ll shoot you dead Munson.” 

  “Take it easy Stevie,” Eddie grunted, his jaw tensed and an irritated tone on his lips. His brows turned inward in concentration as he twisted a wrench with strong grease covered hands from behind the hood, “just need’t..  fuck.” Dark smoke started billowing out around him.

  His foul mouth spewed a string of words that barely made any sense, ending his fit with a slam of the hood and his wrench thrown into the ditch. 

  You walk pointed nails across his sweat covered bare back easing his bruised ego with a sickly sweet voice, “it’s okay,” you preen, pushing your chest into his side  when he wiggles from your tickling fingers, his dark eyes swirling into calm and the huff from his breath lost in his throat, “I’ll just call AAA.” 

  AAA did not service in your area, and according to google— the nearest gas station was twenty miles away, a podunk hole in the wall that sold newspapers for a quarter and had 1 star reviews. 

  “Fuck,” Eddie shouted, kicking the tires and hiding the burn of ache traveling up his leg, “the hell are we gonna do now?” 

  “Guess we’re fucking stranded! Great idea Munson, gonna die by the inbred hands of the family from The Hills Have Eyes, but god we just had to take this piece of shit!.” Steve spit as he flopped back into the bed of the truck. 

  Eddie pointed a greased finger into Steve’s chest, “you,” he said prodding with emphasize, “were the one who didn’t want to buy them online, oh God Eddie let’s just get out of Hawkins for the day, make Lily sweat a little bit, make her think I have a bitch in Indy..” 

  “Fuck off,” Steve said shoving Eddie’s hand away, sitting up, casting a stank eye in your direction, voice laced in venom, “at least my dick is getting w—”

  A pack of cards hits Steve right in the chest, hard and knocking the insult from his lungs. 

  It was your idea.

  The slick pack of cards in the glove box with paisley red design on the front was sure to lend some relief and make time pass between now and when Robin would be on the way, driving Steve’s BMW with white knuckles and the radio off no doubt. You had texted her when the boys were arguing, explaining the situation and promising her a small white baggy from Eddie’s stash when you got back. 

  “great idea,” Steve accuses, “s’ gonna take at least 2 hours to get here,” his hands fly in the air in defeat as he yells, “she’s failed her drivers test four fuckin’ times because she drives like my grandma, and that old bag has been dead for years!” 

  “Cool it, you didn’t have any other ideas besides whining Steve,” Eddie defends, fingers wrapped around the neck of a foggy glass bottle filled with amber liquor, he hands it to you in a slick move of his wrist bending and presenting both a blunt and the bottle like a flower blooming in his open palm, “might as well relax a little s Sswhile we wait, make it worth our while.” 

  The liquor went down with a burn, hotter than the pinked shoulders of Eddie’s sunburnt skin. And the small band of splotchy salmon across Steve’s nose. 

  Eddie wrestled a dusty moth bitten blanket from behind the seat, and spread it on the bed of the truck. Before you could push your ass up onto the tailgate, he had wrapped his hands tight along your hips and hoisted you up. A grip so tight he didn’t want to let go, your body feeling just right in his palms, and you were feeling it too. 

  As the liquor bottle got lighter and lighter, the tension eased, Steve was actually laughing at Eddie’s jokes and wasn’t rolling his eyes as much when he had to give you a card or when Eddie praised you for winning again. 

  When Steve threw his cards on the blanket and twisted his arms in a pout at losing another round of Go Fish, it was his idea to play another game. 

  “It’s real easy,” he explained around a puff of smoke as he shuffled the cards back into the pack with his large tanned hands, a single bead of sweat sloping down from his temple and curling around his chin. “You hold up five fingers, and if you’ve never done what one of us says, you keep a finger up, but if you have… you put a finger down and take a sh—- hey dickhead!” 

  Eddie’s lips turn sinister around the glass bottle as rogue drops of Crown dribble from his chin. “Ooops,” he says coyly, eyes bigger than Betty Boop’s and already feeling the combined high and drunken stupor take over his body, “were you needing this?” 

  Dragging a hand down his face, Steve sighs, “yeah it’s kinda the whole point of the game, fucker,” 

  “Hey…” Eddie whines, “be nice Stephanie.” 

  With another ten minutes of arguing about Eddie being a jackass and Steve being crabby in hot weather, you all agree to play the game, the loser has to finish the bottle and strip off an item of clothing. 

  “Okay so let’s start this easy,” Steve explained, “never have I ever been arrested.”

  Eddie puts a finger down and scowls, “good one Harrington,” he adjusts his legs and leans back against the frame of the truck, “just because you got away doesn’t mean your ass wasn’t just as guilty as mine.” 

  “Shoulda ran faster,” 

  The boys make annoyed faces at each other and it’s Eddie’s turn, “never have I ever… nope I’ve done that… never have I.. shit.. okay pass! I gotta think.” 

  “Your turn,” he says, passing you the bottle of almost empty liquor.

  “Okay, Uhh..” you hold the bottle with both hands and gently peel back the label with your fingernail, rubbing the sticky residue between your fingers, you rack your brain for something that would get them both, “never have I ever… peed standing up.” 

  The boys roll their eyes, and each put a finger down, “cheap shot,” Steve whines, and glowers when you stick your tongue out at him. 

  “Oh I got one!” Eddie says rubbing his hands together, splaying a wicked grin on his face, “never have I ever, socked Billy Hargrove in the face.”

  You push Eddie’s shoulder and slap his chest playfully, as he laughs like a hyena, “he deserved it!” 

  Steve chokes on his inhale of the passed blunt, “that was you?!” 

  “Fuck yeah it was!” Eddie says proudly, “that’s why she’s banned from the pool.” 

  Laughing at the now funny memory of Billy slapping your ass as you walked by him in your swimsuit. 

  The way Eddie’s fist felt in your hands as you shoved it down, the rage in his eyes as he was ready to beat the bricks off of Billy. 

  The sick twist of his mustache when it formed a grin knowing that Eddie was on his last strike with Hopper and couldn’t defend you. 

  And the satisfying crack of his molars splintering in his gum line when you knocked your fist into his jaw.

  The pain and swollen fingers were worth it. 

  “And I’d do it again,” you say lowering a finger and taking a swig from the bottle, the burn of the liquor barely there now. 

  Steve laughs, a new sense of almost admiration, as he looks at you with his hair in his face, grabbing the joint from Eddie’s fingers and holding it firm between his teeth, “my turn,” he says clearing his throat, “uh..never have I ever… kissed Eddie.” 

  You and Eddie look at eachother and giggle awkwardly around the cloud of dense smoke, but your fingers never budge. 

  “Seriously?” Steve says incredulously, looking from you to Eddie and back to Eddie and then you again, “can’t lie in this game, dude.” 

  Eddie had come close to kissing you on a few occasions. Once in high school at Steve’s party after winning the beer pong tournament, he looked at you the way someone would a lover, wetting his lips and looking at your mouth, but in the end he gave you a bone crushing hug and twirled you around the room. 

  Another time during the 4th of July fireworks last year when you had both smoked two bowls from the pretty pipe he gifted you earlier that year on your birthday.

  The air was warm, just like today, and you leaned your back into his front as you laid lazily on the roof of his van. He was singing a song you were too high to comprehend and when you turned your head into his shoulder and looked up at him. 

  His fingers wrapped around a lock of your hair and you hummed in approval. Snuggling further into him. And the next thing you knew it was nearly dawn and you had fallen asleep. 

  It just never seemed like the right time. 

  “So who’s turn is it?” Eddie said clearing his throat. 

  “Oh n-n-n-n-n-n-no!” Steve said leaning further into the circle, clearly interested to know what’s going on, “we aren’t just gonna skate past this.”

  “Drop it, Steve,” Eddie said all too fast, his boots stretching out to kick at his thigh. 

  The bottle in your hands is suddenly heavy and you set it down with a clunk on the bed of the truck. And you pick hastily at your nails, avoiding two sets of brown eyes. 

  “Fuck it,” Steve says, tongue dancing around his mouth trying to stop a smirk, “I dare you to kiss her.” 

  You're certain your heart stops beating. 

  “Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs. Running his hand on the back of his neck, his open cut off flannel shirt showing off his tattooed chest. 

  “Y-you don’t have to Eddie, it’s okay…” you say trying to brush the tension off, not noticing the way his hands are fiddling with the ends of his shirt and how his eyes haven’t left you, “but I dare you to.” 

  It could have been the combined high. It could have been the fact that you hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eddie since you parked your bike against his trailer this morning. 

  He was always good looking, in that goofy best friend kind of way. And although your friendship was never normal, Eddie’s hands always searing through your skin like grill marks on a hotdog, it never crossed the boundary into something more. And you’d be lying if you weren’t curious about how his lips would taste. 

  That was all the convincing Eddie needed before he pushed himself up in a fluid motion, balancing on his knees, and leaning back with a second guess, but it’s you who leans up on your knees too, meeting him halfway.  

  His dark curls swing around your face as he gets impossibly closer. “You sure?” he asks, working a finger under the tip of your chin. 

  And your surprised when your nod is followed by soft lips, slipping against yours. 

  He tasted like the liquor you’ve been drinking and matches. Musky, and woodsy. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip and catches into the corner of his mouth, the brine of sweat on your tongue has you whining into his mouth and he swallows your noises with glee. 

  He shudders when you pull him closer, fingers hooked into the fabric of his shirt. His eager hands holding your face, lips smacking against yours, and for the first time today, it’s not the heat that has your panties wet. 

  Kissing Eddie is like finding money in your jeans after they go through the dryer. It’s easy, and slow, and so fucking good. 

  Seconds, minutes, days? go by before Steve clears his throat and mutters an ahem! 

  Eddie finished the kiss by nudging is nose down the apple of your cheeks and kissing behind your ear. 

  “Fuck…” is all Steve can muster and you bite your lip and sit back down, lips still buzzing with Eddie’s spit still on them. 

  Eddie is smiling and looking at you, eyes drunk on lust. 

  “I— uh, yeah, it’s my turn I guess, ” straightening your back and crossing your legs in a pretzel, you know damn well you’d get at least one finger down from Steve. “Never have I ever… kissed Nancy Wheeler.”

  Steve rolls his eyes and puts a finger down, and when a long finger covered in grease despite the many wipes against denim jeans  also disappears into a fist… a sloppy grin lines Eddie’s mouth as Steve looks like he might throw up. 

  “Are you fuckin’ serious man?” 

  Eddie explains to a butthurt Steve, “let me explain, fuck— it was like a hundred years ago, after junior year, she kissed me!” 

  It was true. 

  Nancy went to Eddie to buy some “forget-‘ems” (Eddie’s coined word for ecstasy) after Jonathan left her for the pretty long haired new boy from California. She was scared and didn’t want to be alone while she took the white pill. Drug use being foreign to her entirely. 

  Eddie? She had asked kindly, unsure about herself for the first time. Take it with me? 

  His long curls bounced as he nodded his head, taking one of the pills from her dainty hands and placing it between his teeth. Tipping his head back with a quick jerk and a rough swallow, hoping it looked cool, he looked into her blue eyes and gave her a grin. 

  It was strange, having the preppy Nancy Wheeler in his trailer with her proper fitting cardigan and light wash skinny jeans. 

  He could tell she was uncomfortable, the normal glow of her skin was lost behind shallow cheeks and dark rimmed eyes, pressed tight with setting powder to try and hide it. 

  maybe she should have had a smaller dose, being that her small frame had never dealt with drugs before. And right when Eddie’s high took over, Nancy Wheeler had started to feel it too.

  She ran around the trailer giggling and feeling the rough edges of the peeling wallpaper. She did flips on Eddie’s bed and spilled cereal all over the kitchen, laughing with dark wide pupil filled eyes. Completely rolling. 

  The high lasted longer than Eddie had thought it would, and she started to cry when thinking about her mom, crying harder when she asked Eddie about his. Forgetting she was gone. 

  She took it a step further by kissing Eddie square on the mouth, wet cheeks and harsh lips pressed to his before he could pull away. And immediately after, Nancy threw up all over his lap. 

  Ending the high and the four hour sudden friendship they had gained. 

  Eddie had told you the story one night when he got too drunk, making you swear to secrecy the next morning that you’d never tell a soul, and you hadn’t. Keeping the pinky promise with your friend all the way to your grave— if he hadn’t just spilled it all to Steve. 

  “See,” you say to try to smooth things over, voice calm and cool through your own high, “no harm no foul, Stevieee,” you chirped, hiding a small giggle behind bit lips. 

  “Really?” Steve spit, flustered and a bit bold trying to mask his hurt with venom. Tongue pressing deep into his cheek and his dark eyes locked on your own, hands tapping onto his bent knees, “then maybe we should even the score, huh?”

  Eddie blows a ring of smoke into the air, following its lazy descent into the dense humid sky. “You wanna kiss Chrissy?” He looks at you with a quizzical expression, laughing at your stunned face, not understanding what Steve is getting at, “be my fucking guest, dude.” 

  “No,” Steve says firmly, not breaking eye contact with you, dark knives of fury peel back each layer of skin, “her.” 

  Eddie says your name in disbelief, and you’re stunned to your core, realizing the air was suddenly much stickier and hotter than before. 

  He sits up straight and leans over the discarded card game, pointing at Steve, eyes narrowed in on him, “you don’t even like her.” 

  “Sure I do,” Steve lies, sniffing loudly, his wicked eyes glance towards Eddie and he licks his lips when he turns his head back to you, eyeing you up and down, as he leans back on his palms, “don’t I, Taffy?” 

  Eddie’s nickname he had given you when you were kids for love of the cavity inducing candy, felt wrong falling from Steve’s mouth, especially in the grim sentiment it was said in. 

  Of course he was referring to the way he had approached you at that party at the lake all those years ago. 

  You could still smell his Acqua Di Gio cologne, the way the sun highlighted his hair that summer, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the warm beer on his breath. 

  You make a face in disgust towards him, “I’m not kissing you, Harrington.” Crossing your arms in finality as if your words held enough power to command an entire kingdom. 

  Eddie shoves Steve’s shoulder, “what the fuck man,” mixed pleasure of pain and concern painting his face, “don’t be weird.”

  Steve knew how much Eddie liked you, having spent many nights on the roof of his practically abandoned home listening to Eddie through FaceTime over analyzing how to make his move. 

  “‘m not,” he says with a shrug, long fingers tapping against the metal of the truck bed behind him, legs stretched out so the tops of his air forces skim your bent knees, eyeing what he wanted, you. 

  “just trying to get even,” Steve said nonchalantly. 

  “She’s not gonna kiss you,” Eddie said, shaking his head and throwing his hands around, hurt lacing his voice, “give it up.” 

  Steve wiggled the toe of his sneaker against your knee, shooting you a wink, “not until she does.”

  It’s not as if the question hadn’t crossed your mind. It had more times than you’d like to admit. What would it be like to kiss Steve Harrington? 

  “Dude! She doesn’t wanna do it. Fucking leave her alone.” Eddie’s voice was loud and on the cusp of breaking as he pleaded with his friend.

  What would have happened if you fell for his charm instead of turning him down? He was definitely sweet back then, taking your hand in his and guiding you along the rough terrain of the woods. 

  “Let her speak for herself!” 

  Eddie’s eyes fall to yours in desperation, his heart aching for you to tell Steve off, “c’mon, tell him, Taffy.” 

  Pressing your eyes shut tight you can feel Eddie’s hand on your knee, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to remind you that he’s there. 

  “One.”

  “What?”

“What!”

  “Just one kiss, then you need to shut up, got it?” 

  “Taff, you don’t have to do this, we can— we can just get home and I’ll pay him or something.” He’s desperate, willing to do whatever it took to not have this happen. 

  “It’s okay, Eddie, what’s one stupid kiss gonna hurt?” 

  You don’t hear the way he groans and throws himself back against the side of the truck, pinching the corner of his eyes between his fingers trying to ignore Steve’s low chuckle and smirk planted on his face. 

  “C’mon then,” Steve presses, man spreading his legs and patting his lap, “get over here.” 

  You roll your eyes and push yourself up again, “cocky aren’t ya?” 

  “all confidence babe,” he says back, licking his lips, and you roll your eyes again before kneeling in front of him. 

  Eddie groans and kicks at Steve’s leg again. 

  “Sorry dude, just bro code,” he said to Eddie, “and you,” he says addressing you with a nod, “ready?” 

  “Yeah, whatever.” 

  He doesn’t move like Eddie, he’s grabby and rough, taking what he wants and not waiting for cues. He bullies his way into your mouth with his tongue, colliding yours with his and massaging it wildly. It wasn’t bad, just completely different than how you were just kissed by Eddie. When his teeth bite the flesh of your lip you yelp in surprise.

  You turn your head and Steve’s lips trail down your neck, hungry hands grab at your waist and pull you into his lap. Your eyes are closed but his are open, looking at his friend and moving his hand in a wave to beckon him over. 

  A second set of hands is on your shoulders and you feel Eddie’s lips against your neck. 

  “This okay baby?” 

  His breath is hot and stuttering as you reach up and fist your fingers in his hair, your answer muffled by Steve’s mouth. 

  You moan their names, and it drives Eddie wild. 

  Eddie’s hands lower the strap of your tank top scraping your skin with the blunt of his nails. He groans when he sees the absence of a bra strap, diving into your warm skin with a lapping tongue, thrashing slow against your skin, working a strawberry shaped bruise into your skin.

  Steve’s hands are already working to pop the button on your jeans, and you whine when you feel his hard cock beneath your leg. 

  “So fuckin’ pretty,” Eddie breathes as you crane your neck to meet his lips, desperate for your lips to connect with his sgain. 

  His hands fumble on your tank top straps and he groans when his fingers skim over the swell of your tits, you twist his hair in your fingers when his rough hands pinch at your nipples.

  Steve takes his shirt off and tosses it carelessly, his skin is warm on your bare chest as he licks at your exposed neck and earns another moan from you, causing you to whine into Eddie’s mouth and move your hips against his cock. 

  You’re all a tangle of bare chests and sweat coated skin. The boys are barely giving you any time to breathe between open mouth kisses and lazy tongues before the other one commands your attention. 

  “oh, fuck,” Steve whimpers when he works your shorts down, his large fingers find their way into the wet folds of your pussy, “no panties?” 

  Eddie pulls his mouth from yours to let out a desperate groan as your hands unzip his jeans, “shit, all day and no bra or panties,” his hands caress your cheeks and his thumb slips into your mouth open, which you close around him and moan, “you’re a bad girl, huh?” 

  “With the tightest little pussy, fuck,” Steve groans as he pushes a finger into your slick walls. 

  “Mm’mm” you answer them both at once, grabbing needy at Eddie’s cock through his boxer briefs as it flips into your hand, heavy and leaking a pearl of cum from the slit. 

  Noises of all kinds flood the bed of the truck. 

  Wet sloshing from you gushing over Steve’s fingers, him coaxing an orgasm from you as quick as he could, determined to hear your pretty mouth hum. 

Eddie almost in tears as your mouth devours his length  and the head of his cock slides into your throat. 

  The velvet skin of Eddie’s heavy cock slides in and out of your mouth at a slow speed, a small patch of hair rubs on your nose as you take him deeper.

  He’s muttering incoherently and Steve is egging you on. His lips wrapped around your nipples and teeth nipping harshly. 

  “Jesus Jesus sweetheart, Taff— I’m gonna, don’t want to shit shit shit,” you open your mouth and he slides out on accident as you cum all over Steve’s fingers. Sloppy and wet as he rubs at your clit like a DJ. 

  “Thas’it,” he encourages, “so fucking wet, pretty little pussy, yeah, you like this? The two of us giving you what you want huh?” 

  “Yes, Jesus Christ yes!” you’re a blabbing mess, as your high peaks and Eddie spins you away from Steve.

  Steve’s jeans are soaked from you and he’s pitching a tent big enough to host a family reunion. 

  “My turn baby,” Eddie says kissing you sloppy on your lips, “been wantin’ to taste this sweet pussy for years.”

  He helps you lay down on the blanket, making a makeshift pillow with the discarded clothes from the three of you. 

  You’re covered in sweat and more than likely sunburnt in places no one ever should be, but you could care less. Being worshiped by Steve and Eddie had you feeling like the sexiest woman alive, and nothing could compare to the separate high that alone was giving you. 

  Eddie nudges his nose in the crook where your thighs meet, tongue lapping up the pleasure leftover from Steve. “What’d’ya think Stevie boy? Wanna bet I can make her cry?” 

  Steve’s busying himself with unthreading his legs from his jeans, his cock in his hand as he strokes it up and down at the sight of you spread out and naked for them. 

  “You’re on, Munson.”

  Eddie’s tongue was tantalizing. Demon-like against your puffy clit and going further into your pussy than any tongue has before, including Robin’s. 

  His nose pushes up against your clit as he goes deeper, swirling his wicked tongue and slurping your folds into his mouth. 

  You’re buzzing all over. Vibrating from the intense pleasure. Moaning and yanking Eddie’s hair between your fingers as he moves and licks and darts his tongue. 

  Pretty whimpers elicit your body and are swallowed by Steve’s lips, as he hungrily works his tongue into your mouth. The swirling and twirling is all too much.  Their tongues work like hands on a clock and your second orgasm arrives quick fast and in a hurry. The tears spill from your eyes as your writhe and moan beneath them, clawing every inch of their skin. 

  Eddie cleans you up with his tongue holding your hips in place as you shake and try to wiggle away from him. Too sensitive as you lay practically lifeless on the bed of the truck. 

  “Told you,” Eddie says as he sits up, with a sheen of your arousal all over his face. Smiling wide. “I’m just that good.” 

  Steve sits up and tucks his cock back into his boxers, pushing his hair back from his sweat slicked face, “yeah yeah, whatever…” he says, looking out towards the blue sky and the wavering, heat wave horizon, a stupid grin on his lips, “better get dressed sweet girl.” 

  “Thought we were just getting started,” you whine as Eddie kisses his way up your body, laying on his back next to you, his finger threaded with yours. 

  Steve chuckles and points a long finger to the road, “it’ll have to be another time, princess, our ride is almost here.” 

I have a part two partly written .. lemme know what you would think of that?

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

A Dream

Part FIVE of The Soldat and The Flower  :: ONE  ,  TWO  ,  THREE , FOUR

Pairing :: Soldat!Bucky Banres x Petite fem!Reader

Warnings :: Overall sad vibes by the end, Bad Dream, Some Stockholm Syndrome, Slight Possessive Behavior

Word Count ::  1,271

Summary :: The Soldat has an almost perfect little domestic dream

A/N :: Gonna be honest, I meant for this to be a happy little "what if", but... Imma a little sad so- Yeah.

“Heya pal, got any special plans with your girl tonight?” A blond fella asked The Man.

He walked up to him as he knew him, a friendly smile on his face. Even though he didn’t know his name, The Man felt comfortable with The Blond. He was a friend, he was sure of it.

The Man smiled, giving The Blond a small shrug. “Just dinner, like always. What about you…” He trailed off, trying to remember his friend’s name, but he couldn’t. Who is he again? Who…?

Before he could question it any longer, The Blond spoke, “Just gonna take care of my mom tonight. She isn’t feeling too well. I’m thinking about introducing-” HONK “-to her. Hey, my mom also wanted to thank-” HONK “-for that flower arrangement she sent her-” HONK “-has a real talent with those flowers. She’d do great as a florist, don’t ya think-” HONK.

The Man nodded, agreeing quietly while wondering why the cars passing by today were so noisy.

After a short walk with his friend, the minutes blurring into a blob of time thanks to The Blond’s chit-chat, The Man was home.

He walked in greeted first by the scent of lilies, then by the beautiful voice of his flower. “Oh, you’re just in time darling! I just finished up dinner so it’s nice and hot.”

She stepped out of the kitchen wearing a slightly stained apron over a pale yellow dress. She had a large grin on her face, opening her arms up to be hugged by The Man.

After taking off his coat, he made a few long strides to get over to her and lift her up in the air in their embrace. She giggled happily, twirling in the air. When she was finally placed back down, she pulled him down by his tie to give him a quick peck on the lips.

“How was work today, B-” Ding! “-Oh! The cookies are ready,” She rushed back into the kitchen.

“Same old, same old,” He called out, following after her.

Walking into the kitchen, The Man saw a large bowl of spaghetti, cooked greens, and slices of bread on the side all set on the table for their dinner. She pulled out a hot tray of shortbread cookies, placing them on the counter to cool.

The two sat down, beginning to enjoy their meal together as The Lady told him about her day. She tended to her garden, gave the neighbors a bouquet of chrysanthemums as a thank you for a cookbook they had gifted her, and then read stories about Robin Hood.

“What about you, darling?”

He gave her a small look before averting his gaze to his plate. A small knot formed in his stomach when he thought about work. “It was fine. Like I said earlier, same old-”

“Same old,” She sighed. “You always say that about work.”

“Because there’s not much to talk about. You’d be bored by what I do.” He couldn’t quite recall why he didn’t enjoy talking about work, all he knew was that it wasn’t pleasant. He did the sort of job one wouldn’t share in front of polite company, that much he knew.

“I don’t know what you do.”

“Well, you wouldn’t want to because it’s-”

“Boring?” She stood up, walking over to the now-cooled tray of cookies. “Do you keep it a secret because you think I’d call you a monster if I found out?”

“Excuse me?” His brows furrowed, his heartbeat picking up at the thought of her being disgusted by him. “What did you just say?”

She began placing the cookies in a blue cookie jar. “I said, do you keep it a secret because you’re trying to keep Steve out of trouble all day instead of actual work?”

“Oh, yeah…” He thought for a moment. Who the hell is Steve? That name sounds familiar. Isn’t that… Yeah, it is that blond guy. Steve. “You know how Steve can be.” It felt odd saying his name.

With both of them full, The Lady began to clean up the dishes while The Man packed away the leftovers. After they had cleaned up, they headed to the living room to listen to Bing Crosby on the radio. The piano played softly before a deep voice started singing. They sat on the couch together, happy with one another’s company while doing nothing.

The Lady held his hand, fidgeting with his fingers. “Darling, do you love me?”

“That’s a silly question. Of course, I do flower.” He grabbed her chin with his free hand, pulling her attention from their hands to his face. He glanced over her features. The corners of her lips were down, her eyes were glossy. “What’s wrong? Why are you asking this?”

“Well… it’s because you never say my name.”

He was about to protest until he realized she was right. He never said her name because The Soldat didn’t know The Flower’s name. He didn’t even know his own. He didn’t know who he was.

-

The Soldat’s eyes shot open, the sight of a sleeping flower before him. He glanced behind her to see a blank white wall, not a wall covered in blue wallpaper.

In silence, he stared at The Flower, wondering for the first time who they each were before they were brought together. If their lives would have ever intertwined before. If she’d still choose him outside of these four walls.

The thought of them not being together saddened him. His arms tightened around her just a bit, a part of him wanting to make sure this was real.

-

When The Flower woke up, she smiled seeing that The Soldat was still in bed with her. That was until she noticed the depressed expression he had. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked, bringing her hand up to his cheek. “Are you going away for a few days again?”

“No. I just realized…” He was hesitant to reveal what caused his anxiety. He was eased by her caressing his cheek, sure that she’d respond positively. “I don’t know your name.”

Her concerned gaze turned neutral, lips turning into a thin line. “...You don’t?” She asked, surprised he had never asked Dr. Kreischer, or had been told already.

The more she thought about it though, he only ever called her “Flower”. At least he had given her some sort of name, she didn’t have one for him.

“Well, I don’t know your name either, so it’s okay if you don’t know mine.” She gave him a sad smile, “In fact, it’s probably best we don’t know each other’s names.” Her eyes began to water, but the tears didn’t stream yet.

His frown grew. “Why?”

She averted her gaze, beginning to twirl some of his hair in her hands. “When I was little, there was a stray cat on my street that my mom and I fed. We couldn’t keep it because our landlord didn’t allow us to have pets. I always wanted to name the cat, but my mom wouldn’t let me. She said if we did, we’d grow attached to it and it would hurt more if the cat stopped showing up one day.” She looked back at him, tears now rolling down. “If we know each other’s names, it’ll hurt more if we’re ever separated.”

He was quick to wipe away her tears. “We won’t be. I promise.”

“And I’m sure you’ll do your best to make sure we’re not, but life is tricky to manipulate.” She sat up, ready to end the conversation and start her daily routine. “Besides, I like being called your flower.”

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[throwing-in-the-towel]

SONG/SCENE BREAKDOWN - ACT ONE

TULSA ‘67

- pony starts on the tire at the front of the stage with a giant screen behind him that’s cutting the stage in half. the screen lightens to show darrel and soda behind it, darrel folding laundry + soda laying on the car (which is used as a bed as well)

- pony jumps into the crowd and sits in an audience seat when he sings “when i am looking up and newman’s on the screen…etc.” while movie footage of paul newman plays on the screen that’s on stage

- when the first “this is tulsa 1967” is sung, the screen rises and shows the socs and greasers dancing/hanging out around the stage

- when pony sings abt the socs, they’re running around the stage throwing a football, all wearing letterman jackets. bob is putting his jacket over cherry’s shoulders

- when he starts singing about the east side and greasers, they come back on stage and are hanging out by the car on stage

- johnny sings his verse sitting on the tire with pony, they then join the greasers over by the car and sing the “we’re greasers!” section all together

- to end the song, the full company comes back on stage walking around pony who rotates between standing in the middle of everyone and ends the song at the front of the stage, with the greasers to the right of him and the socs to the left

GREASE GOT A HOLD

- a lot of this is seen in the today show performance the cast did!

- some things that were cut from that performance:

- soda is shirtless for this whole song, he takes his shirt off in the lead-up scene to wipe blood off pony’s face after the socs beat him up

- when he sings “g is for getting the girls every time bc you got irresistible charm” he motions at his abs

- after soda sings “e is for catching their eye” he directs pony and johnny to look at ace and says “isn’t that right ace?” -> ace is standing on the tire and turns around, grabbing her ass and saying “you wish” to soda, and he legit looks at her longingly (i’ve seen jason react in so many different ways, but he usually will stick his tongue out or just lust fullylook at her)

- the verse between two-bit and darry’s is essentially just repeated choreo that is done throughout the song

RUNS IN THE FAMILY

- darrel slams the hood of the car down to start this song (it was open from the end of grease got a hold when dally “knights” pony)

- he sings the first verse by folding laundry at the table, then the greasers come in towards the end of that verse (soda throws his shirt in the laundry basket darry is working on)

- they all sit on the floor by the car watching a small tv on stage, pony asks darry if he can go to the drive-in with two-bit and johnny, darry asks if dally will be there to which pony says probably and darry talks about how he knows pony looks up to dally. pony essentially ignores him and asks again if he can go to the drive-in. darry says yes and tells pony to wash the grease out of his hair and gives soda the laundry basket

- song continues with darrel singing while soda kicks the greasers out and soda puts the blanket on the car to transform it into a bed for him and pony

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

- essentially the same as the performance done on the today show

- super super sweet and funny scene between soda and pony that happens right before the song begins (will prob make posts abt specific scenes if asked about!)

- song ends and a scene between johnny and dally starts

FRIDAY AT THE DRIVE-IN

- cherry and bob enter by driving the corvette on stage

- super reminiscent of “dance at the gym” from west side story. greasers and socs each take turns dancing

- ace and two-bit dance together steve has solo dance moments as well

- ends with cherry and marcia sitting down for the drive-in

I COULD TALK TO YOU ALL NIGHT

- has a great lead in scene between pony and cherry where they talk about cherry’s home life, pony’s parents dying, great expectations, etc.

- cherry and pony are sitting on the bench at the drive-in singing to each other

- they get abruptly cut off during the last “i could talk to you all night” by bob slamming a fist on the car, leads into a confrontation scene between bob, cherry, and pony is dragged into it (super great scene, can go into detail in another post if requested!)

RUNS IN THE FAMILY (REPRISE)

- just such great staging

- pony comes in late from the drive-in with johnny, darrel obviously is fed up

- pony is sitting at the dinner table and darry is just singing/yelling at him, “eat my food” lyric is actually directed at johnny

- soda stands in front of johnny to protect him from darry

- ends with darrel hitting pony, johnny grabs pony and they run away

FAR AWAY FROM TULSA

- pony and johnny are both sitting/standing on the giant metal structure that is on the side of the stage, kind of like sideways monkey bars

- soda and darrel are still on stage in the dark, soda sitting at the table and darry on the floor with his back against the table

- ends with them jumping off and deciding to leave, but the socs show up (another great scene done here with bob’s death, super unique staging and just really awesome. have a lot of things to say about that scene)

RUN RUN BROTHER

- one of the best songs/scenes in the show imo (hoping they do this at the tony’s!!!)

- pony and johnny visit dally, dally gives pony his jacket and sets them on their way

- great usage of the wooden plank props that are on the stage, simulates the train and obstacles pony and johnny are running from

- during the “sooner or later you learn” verse, on the elevated structure in the back, the socs are on one side, dally is in the middle, and soda, two-bit and darry are on the other side

- that bit ^ in particular is super reminiscent imo of “non-stop” in hamilton. darry is standing in between soda and two-bit while they both sing in his face, almost condescendingly

- the wooden planks are placed on tires to create the train pony and johnny jump off of

- act 1 ends with pony and johnny jumping off the train on the last beat of the song