#this is just what steve thinks friends are supposed to do i guess

[steven-g-rogers]

Steve turned back to Tony and sighed.  He wasn’t sure what to say.  What else was there to say?  He’d explained it all, he’d said sorry.  Tony’s feelings were valid but he could either live with them or not.  There wasn’t a hell of a lot Steve could do.   He wanted them to be on friendly terms again, but maybe this was just an unworkable issue and they never would be.

His shoulders sagged.  He felt so exposed with his lack of shirt and shower dampened hair.  But if Tony was open to it, he supposed he could get the ball rolling.

“I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings here.  I get it, Tony.  This is big and painful.  I was friends with your father.  In fact, Bucky - that’s the guy who did it - he was too. I can only imagine how he’s going to feel or already feels about what they made him do.  And you’re right.  I should have told you as soon as I realized what I was being told.  At the time - I had a lot of other things happening.  I didn’t get a moment to pick up the phone and call you.  But that’s no excuse.  The main thing was - I was scared.  Simple at that.  I didn’t want - well - this.”  He gestured between them.  “I want to find Bucky and bring him back here and how can I do that now?  I guess in my head I thought what was the point of knowing if it was just going to hurt you?  It was selfish.  I was selfish. I didn’t keep the secret long, but I shouldn’t have kept it at all.”

He let out a breath and looked down at his feet, his hand moving over his stomach.  “I want to take the pain away.  I want you to let it out.  I don’t know how.  Or even if I can.  But if you have an idea, tell me.  If it’s in my power I’ll do it. You want to scream at me?  Scream at me.  You want to hit me?  Hit me.  I mean it.  I can take it.  But if we’re going to work together, we have to figure out some way to get along and if we can’t, one of us has to leave.  And honestly - I think given everything, that person should be me.  I can always go back to the army or Damage Control or something.  The Avengers are your baby.”

He looked back up at Tony.  “Please believe me though.  I didn’t do any of this to hurt you.  I know it’s beside the point because you were hurt anyway.  But my intentions were pure.  But you know what they say about good intentions.  Just - tell me what you want me to do?”

There were times when Tony had to admit his natural bull-headedness was a curse rather than a strength, being stubborn to a fault wasn't getting him anywhere and neither was avoiding speaking to Rogers about it at all. How were they supposed to work together if they could hardly stand being in the same room as one another with the bad blood between them?

"Alright fine, you want to talk? Let's talk." The inventor hoped he spoke loud enough, raising his tone of voice to catch the captain's attention before he exited the gym to leave him to his own sulking.

"On one condition," A pause hangs in the air as words are carefully mulled over in his head, repeating them to himself like a mantra. "No 'I'm sorrys', I don't want to hear a single apology out of you." The Iron Man couldn't take people feeling pity for him, much less from someone like Steve who was supposed to be his teammate and an equal.

A foot taps in a steady rhythmic beat on the floor as the younger man raises a brow curiously, waiting patiently to hear what the centenarian soldier had to say.

"The floor is yours, Steve."

[patheticgirlsteve]

steve ties eddie’s shoes for him. not because eddie is incapable of doing so himself or has ever even asked steve to do this for him, steve straight up just wants to tie eddie’s shoes and eddie just lets him because why not? he, like steve, also thinks that this a normal and not at all weird thing to do for your buddy

[steddieprompts]

Another cutesy little steddie thing. all fluff. Post vecna. 1648 words.

---

It’s not that Eddie was a wuss…

Ok maybe he was, but still this was a terrifying prospect… asking Steve Harrington out.

It didn’t help that he was getting advice from a 15 year old.

“Do you think he likes you back?”  Dustin asked, tapping a pencil against his chin.

“I don’t know, Henderson,” Eddie ran his hands over his face.  What was he doing?  “You’re supposed to be helping me figure that out.”

Dustin tapped his chin again and looked at the ceiling.

In all honesty, Eddie would usually talk to Jeff about this stuff, but he had to be visiting his family in Ohio because of stupid Thanksgiving.

“Well, you guys hang out a lot, that’s gotta count for something.”  Dustin pointed out.

“You hang out a lot with Sinclair and Wheeler.  You wanna make out with them?”  Dustin pulled a face.  “That’s what I thought.”

“I am happily in a relationship, thanks.”  Dustin pointed out.

He always had a reason to point it out.

“I know, and I would like to be as well, so if we could get back to the discussion at hand…”

“Ok, ok… Well, Steve hasn’t really been dating recently… right?”

“No, he hasn’t.”

“Maybe that means something?”

“I don’t know… He says he just hasn’t met the right person yet…”

“Well… he used ‘person,’ not ‘girl!’  That’s a good sign!”  Dustin pointed his pencil at Eddie.

“Sure, but you’re missing a key point in that statement.”  Eddie sighed.  Dustin squinted at him.  “He’s met me, Dustin.”

Dustin’s eyebrows shot up.  “Fair point.”

Eddie dropped his face into his hands.  Dustin started up again.

“Your idea that Steve might like you is a hypothesis and science dictates that the only way to conclude if a hypothesis is correct is to prove it.  To run experiments.”

Eddie let out a belabored sigh.

“So, test it,” Dustin continued. “Ask Steve out.”

Eddie stared at Dustin, knowing he was right in his own little, nerd way.

“Yeah… Ok, alright, yeah, I’ll do it.”

\\\\\\\

The next day was movie night at Steve’s with the whole crew.  The kids, Nancy, and Robin were all in the living room putting out snacks and arguing about where they would sit.  Eddie figured now was as good a time as any.  He crossed over to the kitchen, meandering over to Steve who was waiting for the popcorn in the microwave.

“Hey.”  Eddie offered once he was a few feet away.  Nailed it.

“Hey,”  Steve looked over at him, “how’s physical therapy going?  I’ve been meaning to call you, see if you needed any help.”  Steve responded with a soft smile at Eddie, the kind that made all the nervous energy in him disappear.  The microwave beeped and Steve pulled the popcorn out, hissing when he grabbed the hot part of the bag before dropping it in one of the big plastic bowls he had waiting.

Eddie grabbed another bag out of the box, unfolded it and handed it to Steve.

“Uh, good, good, I guess.  I never really know if I’m doing the exercises right.  The paper instructions are shit.”

Steve laughed at that, “Yeah, I’ve been there.  I could come over some time, help you figure them out?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.  That would be great… actually.”  Eddie swallowed.  “But, uh, before that happens, I, uh, I have to ask you something.”  Eddie stumbled over the words before looking over his shoulder, making sure no one else would be witness to him getting shot down by Steve Harrington, even if he was in a house full of friends.

“Yeah?”  Steve turned toward Eddie, leaned his hip against the counter, the picture of nonchalance.

“Yeah,” Eddie cleared his throat, “Would you, uh, ever consider, maybe… shit. Start over.”  Eddie clamped his jaw in a grimace before starting again.  He couldn’t look at Steve yet.  If he saw any bit of apprehension or negative emotion, he would never actually get the full question out.  “Would you like to go out… on a date… with me?”

Eddie finally looked at Steve instead of the cabinet behind his head.  His initial look gave him nothing.  Steve looked the same, if not a little more still, a little more focused.  But he wasn’t saying anything.  The nervous energy was back with a vengeance and Eddie was starting to feel twitchy the longer Steve stared at him.

And then Lucas walked into the kitchen.

“Is this one ready?”  he asked, pulling the bowl with the popcorn bag in it across the counter.  The microwave behind Steve beeped.  He was still staring at Eddie.  Eddie was still staring at Steve.

“Uh-huh.”  Steve answered.

“Should I get that one out?”  Lucas asked.

“I’ll get it in a second,” Steve said, his eyes now roaming over Eddie’s face.

“I don’t mind.”  Lucas offered.

“Dude.”  Steve’s eyes finally left Eddie and he felt himself deflate a little bit, muscles twinging from where he had been clenching them.  “I’ll get it. Can you give us a minute?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah? Sure?”  Lucas replied, quickly grabbing the bowl and heading back towards the living room.

Steve’s eyes flicked back to Eddie and he felt suddenly compelled to talk.  Like a tidal wave, his insecurities drowned him.

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have sprung this on you.  I’m not your type, I know. I—”

“Yes.”

“Don’t even know if…”  Eddie stopped to process what Steve said.  “Yes? Yes, I’m not your type or yes you… you want to…”

“Yes. I’ll go out with you.”

Eddie finally looked at Steve, really took him in instead of concentrating on not collapsing in on himself.  Steve looked almost… shy?  Nervous?  There was the slightest blush on his neck, the smallest, guarded smile.  He, Eddie now noticed, had been white knuckling his own arm ever since Eddie asked.

Interesting.

Eddie relaxed a little.  “Yeah?”

Steve’s smile grew bigger as he nodded. “Yeah.”

Eddie couldn’t help the smile that took over his face.  He did it.  He asked Steve out. And Steve said yes!  What’s more, Steve looked caught off guard in the best way possible.  “Oh, just you wait, Harrington.  I’m gonna wine and dine you like you’ve never been wined and dined before.” Eddie grinned.

“The popcorn’s getting cold! What’s taking you guys so long!”  Dustin yelled from the living room.

Steve turned to the microwave to get the popcorn and Eddie reveled in Steve’s smile.  The way it looked like he was restraining it, the way Steve looked lighter than he had in weeks.

They walked back to the living room together, and Eddie kicked Mike off the couch so he could sit next to Steve. Halfway through the movie, Steve slipped his hand into Eddie’s.  On impulse, he pulled Steve’s hand up to kiss the back of it, before shifting closer and leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder.  When he felt the press of Steve’s head on top of his he thought maybe he was dead.  Maybe the bats had finished him off and he was in heaven.

He would have to thank Dustin for pushing him to ask Steve.  He would never hear the end of it.

When the movie ended and everyone was leaving, Eddie hung around the living room so he would be the last to go.  He refolded the blankets, rewound the tape and put it back in its box, and picked up the popcorn bowls and candy wrappers.  He was in the kitchen throwing things out, thinking maybe he had enough time to run to the bathroom, when Steve reappeared.

“Everyone head out?”  Eddie asked as Steve approached him.

“Mhmm.”  He replied before stepping around the kitchen island and stopping in front of Eddie. “Coast is clear.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie grinned, stepping closer.

“Mmm,” Steve hummed before leaning in, pressing his lips to Eddie’s.

Eddie had kissed quite a few people before, boys and girls alike, but this kiss with Steve.  It was different.  It filled him up, distracted him from everything else so that when his back hit the counter it almost startled him.

“Sorry.”  Steve hummed, pulling away.

“Don’t be.”  Eddie managed to get out before pulling Steve back in.  He was definitely in heaven.  Except in heaven, he wouldn’t be almost peeing his pants.  Curse that whole bottle of coke.

Eddie pulled back with a soft, ‘shit.’

“You okay?”  Steve asked.

“Yeah, fantastic, great. Except I think I’m about to pee my pants. Don’t go anywhere, Big Boy.”  Eddie said before practically running to the bathroom, Steve’s surprised laughter following him down the hall.

When he got back, Steve was washing the popcorn bowls and pizza plates from earlier in the night, sweater pushed up to his elbows, the locks of hair hanging in his eyes swinging with his movements.  Eddie stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist.

“No one has ever asked me out.”  Steve said after a few seconds.

“What?”  Eddie let go in surprise, moving next to Steve so he could see his face.  “Seriously?”

Steve nodded.

“The way girls talked about you I would have thought they would be lining up.”  Eddie mused.

“No. I’m the guy, you know?  I mean they definitely dropped hints, but none of them asked me.”

Eddie reveled in that for a second.  He was the first person to ask Steve Harrington out.

“So, how does it feel being on the receiving end?”  Eddie asked, nudging Steve.

“So good.”  Steve smiled at him, the sincerity of his words bleeding out of him so much that Eddie had to dart forward and peck him on the cheek.

“Where do you want to go?”  Eddie asked.

“You said you were gonna wine and dine me,” Steve replied, “I trust you.”

Those words sent a bolt of pure reassurance through Eddie.  “Oh, Steve Harrington,” he half sing-songed, half chuckled, “I’m gonna date you so hard.”

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

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

“Marry.”

“What?”

“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”

“Eddie, we’re not playing FMK; you’re supposed to be telling me his name.”

“Oh. That’s…. Joe Jonas.”

“…he’s literally from Hawkins. And he’s holding a hockey stick.”

“Nobody from Hawkins is that hot, man, no way.”

~~~

Gareth posts the clip to his personal TikTok. Before he can get around to reposting it on Corroded Coffin’s band account, it has more than 100k views. Things only spiral from there, because once the band shares it, the video goes more viral and ends up on the screens of the right people.

chiblkhwks: harrington94 is social media challenged, but we’re going to make sure he sees this. Will keep you posted.

The comment is immediately overshadowed by a busy day of PR. A photoshoot to an interview to a radio show to the green room at the Fillmore in Boston, before an intimate pre-album release show for members of their fan club. Eddie has completely forgotten about the video entirely, but Gareth’s phone pings with a text notification.

“A response has been issued!” He declares to the room, still grinning down at the screen of his phone.

The rest of the band shares a collectively confused look, all seeming pleased to find they’re not alone in whatever they’ve missed.

“What?” Jeff asks for the group.

In lieu of an explanation, Gareth just flips the phone in his hand around to show a TikTok, stitched with the clip they’d made earlier that morning.

~~~

“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”

#Stitch

“Is… is that supposed to be a compliment?” Steve asks, making a pinched face as he laces up his skates.

“You watched the whole video. He compared you to Joe Jonas.” The girl behind the camera responds, but he levels her with an unimpressed look. She doesn’t respond, and after a beat, he sighs.

“Yeah, alright, I guess Joe Jonas is hot. I’ll take the compliment.” He huffs, standing to his feet and moving from the bench he’d been suiting up on toward the ice. The girl follows him, gliding toward the net once they're in the rink, never falling out of pace with him.

“Do you know who it is talking in the video?” She presses, and Steve looks unimpressed again.

“You mean the other hot guy?” He asks with a grin, then nods. “That was Eddie. I’m surprised you don’t know him, the Party listens to Corroded Coffin all the time.”

The video loops back to the stitched clip from Gareth’s initial TikTok then. Everyone in the room processes what just unfolded.

“The Party? Did… did Steve Harrington just make a reference to DnD? Or is that some sports thing I dont understand?” Jeff asks.

Freak raises his hand, indicating he’s next to speak. “Not only that, but his nerdy DnD friends listen to us all the time?”

“Did King Steve call Joe Jonas hot?” Eddie asks, visibly still trying to connect the wires in his brain that fried at Steve’s agreement. “Did he call me hot?”

All three turn toward Eddie, whose face is still reflecting the long form math equation his brain is trying to work out, and Jeff sighs.

“Well, boys. I think we’ve officially lost him.” He says, bowing his head. Freak and Gareth join him solemnly, making Eddie huff and cross his arms over his chest.

“You’re all so dramatic.”

“Gee, I wonder who encouraged us to be this way,” Freak exaggerates through a grin, before shoving a guitar into Eddie’s chest, just in time for Paige to open the door and summon them.

“We can have a meltdown over Harrington after the gig,” Gareth promises with a pat to Eddie’s back as everyone moves around him, exiting the green room and heading for the stage.

~~~

Riding his post-show high, Eddie makes a bold move in the CC band TikTok, commenting under the video Steve had stitched.

corrodedcoff!n: we’ll be in chicago 1/26 if harrington94 and ‘the party’ are free 🎫

He only gets about 20 minutes of peace before Gareth is jumping around, proclaiming himself the greatest wingman in history.

“It’s an offer for free concert tickets made over social media, and he hasn’t even answered, Gare Bear.” Eddie tries to get him to relax, but he, too, is eager to see how the other reacts to the offer.

He wakes up the next morning to the answer he’d been waiting on, and his stomach flips as he reads it over.

harrington94: only if you guys come to the home game 1/27 🏒

__________

Steve doesn’t even bat an eye when Max shoves her way into the locker room, b-lining straight for him.

“Can I help you?” He asks without looking up, unhooking the padding from his calf and letting it drop to the ground in front of his locker.

“Are you using TikTok to publicly flirt with Eddie Munson?” She asks, voice quieter than he’d typically expect from her, but he just scoffs.

“I’m just being friendly! You’re the one who started this in the first place! What, you didn’t expect me to log on and check if they’d responded?” He asks in response, freeing his foot from the skate, before placing a cover over the blade and letting the boot drop into the lower shelf beside his locker.

“I’m just confused because you’ve been super weird about coming out, and now you’re out here hitting on a rockstar all over social media, that’s all.” Max says, and Steve freezes for a moment.

“Do you…” he trails off, before closing his eyes and rubbing a thumb into his temple. “You really think I just accidentally came out?”

“You called Joe Jonas and Eddie Munson hot, encouraged this rockstar to come to your game when he’s in town and also accepted tickets to see him perform, Steve.” Max was monotone, and held her hands up defensively when he groaned. “I’m not starting anything, I’m just saying that this could get blown out of proportion now.”

They discuss a little further, deciding neither of them will publicly acknowledge anything that’s been posted to the account for now, until they actually come up with a plan.

Once he’s in his car heading home, Steve calls Robin.

“Dingus,” she greets, as always, and he lets out a grumble. “Uh oh. What happened?”

“I think I accidentally came out on the internet, and it’s Eddie Munson’s fault.” He’s met with several seconds of silence as he starts his car on the path to him and Robin’s shared apartment.

“Eddie, the drug dealer from high school?” Robin eventually asks, confused, and Steve groans again.

“Yeah. He uh, also is in a band?” He supplies, and Robin’s quiet for a moment as she processes. Then, he hears the tapping of a keyboard. “What are you doing?”

“Looking Eddie up, obviously.” Steve can practically see her eye roll, even though they’re not FaceTiming. “You’re nothing if not consistent, I guess. Doe-eyed curly brunet.”

Steve scoffs. “You say as though you’re not the one currently waking up beside Nance every morning.”

He’s met again by a short silence, before Robin lets out a little puff of air, in a small laugh. “Thank you again for being so cool about that, by the way.” She says, before he hears clicking on her end. “Apparently, Eddie is out as bi. Corroded Coffin does a charity show for the Trevor Project every year, and he’s been to a lot of Pride events.”

Steve’s stomach twists with each new bit of information she provides, because a part of him wants to be that out, wants to be like Robin or apparently Eddie, freely sharing that part of themselves with the world and having no one give a shit. But that’s not how it works on so many levels for Steve. Beside the shit he’d have to deal with on the ice from certain other players, he had no idea how it would impact the team overall. There’s no way to gauge how fans would react, when there’s never been an openly gay player in the NHL. And that didn't even begin to touch on how his parents would react.

“Hey,” Robin breaks him out of his spiral and he realizes he’s been chewing a hole into his cheek. “I can hear how loud you’re thinking right now. Do you need me to come home?” She asks, gently, and he sighs.

“Please.” He mumbles after a long pause, and is grateful when he hears the jingle of car keys from the other end of the phone.

~~~

Robin scrolls through article after article once she gets to their place, pulling Steve onto the sofa with her and laying his head in her lap. Her fingers twist through his hair, doing her best to keep him calm as she reads up on the situation playing out to try and help gauge how big of a hole he’s dug himself this time.

“I don’t think there’s really anyone who thinks you were flirting with him. Not seriously, at least.” She tries to assure him, but he’d already seen the twitter posts to contradict that before she came over. He sighs and rolls onto his back, so he’s looking up at her, and shrugs.

“I kind of don’t think there’s any avoiding it, at this point.” He mumbles. “I’m not… I’m not ready to come out, not like this. Not on this scale. I think the only thing I can do is carry on and hope it doesn’t get turned into any bigger of a deal.”

Robin hums down at him, and continues to brush his hair back out of his eyes. “Okay. So you don’t come out yet. But don’t overcompensate for it, okay?” He scrunches his face up at her, and she types something into her phone before turning it back into his face. He immediately pales, met with a photo of him out with Heidi last year. With a black eye on full display, he looks miserable behind a fake smile.

“Low blow,” he grumbles, pushing himself away from Robin to sit up beside her, and she raises her eyebrow at him, still holding the photo pointed in his direction.

“‘Maybe they won’t notice or ask why my literal teammate punched me in the face at practice if I take a fucking supermodel out to dinner.’” Robin’s imitation is a little too good, a sure sign of too much time spent together.

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it!” He asks, taking the phone off of her and closing out of the image before locking it. He drops it back into her lap with a sigh. “I just don’t know how many times I can keep getting away with hiding it.”

“Well, it helps that Billy got traded out to LA. He would be insufferable about this, and would absolutely make everything 10 times worse.” Robin muses.

Steve sighs and hesitates for a moment before dropping his head back into her lap, curling into her. “I just want it to be on my terms, when I’m ready.”

“We’ll figure it out, and it’ll all be okay, no matter what. Okay?” She assures quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.

His phone dings with a new notification; Max texted him a screenshot from TikTok.

corrodedcoff!n: you’ve got yourself a deal 🤝🏻

[buckyalpine]

Mob Bucky likes his innocent date ft smut

Sigh. I wanted this to be wholesome but it’s horny instead I’m sorry. Might delete tbh. Imagine devilishly gorgeous mob Bucky getting joy out of making his shy date flustered til she’s tripping on her words and unable to speak. He got Steve to find him a date for an event in the evening, uninterested in having to actually find one for himself. He just wants a pretty thing on his arm that he could maybe fuck at the end of the night. Between busy schedules and mob work, Steve doesn’t find anyone so he scrambles to the last person he can think of.

His sisters best friend.

You’re not at all what he was expecting.

He walks down the long staircase in his all black suit, beard trimmed, his cologne intoxicating, coking an eyebrow when he sees the shy thing waiting for him that he’s supposed to go with.

You nearly squeak when he stands before you, too nervous to say anything, your heart running a million miles a minute, knowing exactly who the very James Barnes was. You had no business being here, you were doing this for Steve.

“Hi” you whisper, and Bucky can’t help but smirk at the way you keep tugging at your dress, not meeting his eyes, tipping your chin up to meet his wolfish expression.

“You must be Y/n” he doesn’t let go of your face, noting the goosebumps that now cover your exposed skin from your plunging dress. He doesn’t say much else, letting you squirm, quite enjoying himself.

You want to tell him he looks good, be the confident woman he probably expected to have, exuding grace and poise but you bite your lip instead, nearly whining when he lets go of your chin.

“Y-you um. You look b-beautiful” you finally stutter out, your face burning under his amused gaze.

“Is that so Bambi?” He smirks, cocking his head while you fidget with your fingers. “Hmmm. No one’s called me that before” he chuckles, taking your arm in his and leading you to the limo parked outside.

Your skin is so soft, you smell so sweet and for the first time ever, he doesn’t want to ravage his date to bits. Not when you’re such a soft precious thing.

The night goes well as you grow more and more comfortable with him. He dotes on you the entire time, not letting you lift a finger. He can’t help but take care of you, not letting anyone else near his precious little Bambi.

By the end, he wants to take you home safely like a gentleman but he wants more. And he knows you do too. He can see it in the way you look at him with such longing, nuzzling into his side further and further in the back of the limo.

You’re practically on his lap now, desperately wishing he’d just have his way with you without toy having to say anything but he’d never let that happen.

“What is it Bambi” he whisperers when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding you face in his neck. Your hand trails from his tie to his belt buckle, too embarrassed to go any lower.

“Oh you poor thing” he coos, bringing and pressing your hand on top of his erection, your shaky hands rubbing his bulge like a needy kitten, “do you want my cock baby, s’that it? My Bambi needs her cock?”

“Mhm” you whine, clinging onto him when the limo pulls up to his house, his thick arms wrapping you up and taking you right to his room with no second guesses.

When he gets you into bed, all his animalistic tendencies go out the window, holding back how badly he wants to pounce on you and ravish you like the cute little bunny you are, trapped in the wolfs den. Your gown has been thrown off, lingerie ripped to bits, laying on his bed as he crawls on top of you, his thick, leaky cock bobbing between his legs.

“Are you sure you want this Angel” he checks in with you first, cupping your cheek and swiping his thumb across your pouty lip.

“W-want you” you whisper, shakily reaching down to grasp his cock, swallowing nervously. “I just- I don’t-“

“You don’t have to be scared bunny” he kisses your cheek, placing his hand on top of yours, guiding your strokes. “I’ll teach you how to play with my cock baby”

You tighten your grip, tugging him to where you need him most and he can’t hold back much longer, he’s trying to hard but you makes it impossible.

“Fuck Bambi” he groaned feeling his tip run against your soaked cunt, holding back frok shoving himself in you “keep doing that and I’ll lose control baby”

“Lose control Bucky” you tug at him again and he shakes his head with a strained chuckle.

“I’ll hurt you bunny” he said warns again but you need him to take you apart till you cant walk.

“Please?”

“Bunny…” he warns one last time but you want anymore.

“Daddy” you whine in his ear and something inside him snaps. He doesn’t give you any warning, slamming his cock into you with one stroke, your pleasured cry music to his ears.

“What did you just call me?!” He pulls out to flip you over, spanking your ass while his balls slap your clit, loving the way you go dumb over his cock.

“Such an innocent little baby with a filthy mouth, huh doll, my bunny wants her daddy’s cock”

He grips onto the headboard, delivering powerful snaps with his hips, alternating between pounding you against the pillows and grinding his cock in you without pulling out.

“Such a tight pussy squeezing daddy’s cock, my naughty little bunny, you want daddy’s cream too baby? You want daddy to give you his fresh cum, hm? Breed this needy little pussy?”

“B-breed me daddy!!” You squeal, his words driving you towards your climax, crying into his sheets and arching your back more as his movements grow sloppy.

“Get ready for daddy’s cum baby- gonna breed this pretty pussy till your fuckin’ round n’swollen n’leaking with milk” he gritted out, grabbing your hips with slam back and meet his thrusts. “Together Bambi, cum with daddy, c’mon, be a good girl n’cum with daddy”

The most salacious and primal sounds fill the room as he pumps ropes of his cum into toy, your greedy pussy milking him for all he’s worth. He can’t believe such a quiet little bunny could turn out to be a minx on the inside but he’s never letting you go.

“You’re dangerous Bambi” he whispers, keeping his softening cock in you, having never felt so satisfied afterwards, practically floating in the clouds with you. “M’never pulling my cock out, you feel too good around my dick baby”

You giggle as he kisses your glistening skin, gathering your into his arms, your eyes growing wide when he doesn’t kick you out of his bed.

“You’re mine now Bambi” he says with a soft growl, holding you closer to his chest before pulling the sheets over you both.

Anyway. Wholesome version coming later.

[rebelspykatie]

Part 2

Part 1

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie stands and follows Steve to the door as he’s pulling on his shoes. He wants to stop him, pull the shoe out of his hand and drag Steve back to the couch, but he doesn’t have any right. He’s not entirely sure Steve won’t push him away if he tries to touch him right now, anyways.

“You think I’m straight and I was convinced you were into me,” Steve leans against the door frame to pull his other shoe on. He mutters under his breath, “I should’ve never listened to Robin an-”

“Robin was in on this?” He interrupts that thought. It throws Eddie. They’re such a tight knit group, he doesn’t know how they were so far off track with him.

“We spent hours going through every stupid interaction we had. Thought we had it all figured out.” He huffs and walks back over to the coffee table to pick up his wallet and keys. “I guess we’re both idiots.”

“No, Steve,” he tries to reach out and grab Steve’s arm, but he moves too quickly and Eddie’s left grasping air, “you’re not.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it, anyways.” Steve scrambles to pull his sweater back on, the cold just starting to seep into the night air outside.

“Can you just slow down for a second?” Eddie stops trying to catch Steve and plants himself in front of the door. “What do you mean, you’re used to it?”

“Are you going to trap me here?”

“Answer the question.”

“This part, Eddie,” he sighs and gestures between them like that means anything to Eddie. “Everyone I’ve ever confessed to or made a move on has had the same reaction.” He looks off to the side, unable to look Eddie in the eye. “I’m pretty sure I’m the problem. Good ole Steve Harrington, too stupid to notice no one is interested in him.”

“Steve, you’re not stupid.”

“Feels like it most of the time.” He pinches his nose again, still not looking at Eddie, more like through him, gaze pinned to somewhere in the middle of Eddie’s chest. “Can you please move? We can pretend like this never happened and I promise I won’t make any weird moves on you ever again. I’m still friends with Nancy and Robin after everything, I can do it with you, too.”

Eddie skips over the whole Robin part of that in his head because he doesn’t have the brain power to analyze anything beyond Steve’s feelings for him. He never saw this coming. No one, boy or girl or anything in between, has ever made a move on Eddie before. He’s the local freak. There’s no way he could have predicted the town’s golden boy hero would make the moves on him.

He takes in how disheveled Steve’s become in the last few minutes. How hastily he’s thrown on his sweater. The mess of Steve’s hair from the hand that’s run through it several times since he got up from the couch. Barely laced up shoes so he could get out the door faster. He’s normally so put together and this, the sight of him so frazzled, frightens Eddie.

They were fast friends after everything happened with Vecna, leaning on each other for support. Becoming inseparable with King Steve wasn’t something Eddie ever imagined, but it was so easy. Neither of them were what each other had built up in their heads from the rumor mill around Hawkins. Eddie’s never had a guy friend as close as Steve. Sure, he had Hellfire and Corroded Coffin, but Eddie’s always been a bit of a loner.

It was impossible to feel alone with Steve as a friend. He had a way of knowing when you needed support, always just there when Eddie felt alone or needed a physical presence when the weight of the upside down was dragging him down. There wasn’t a day in the past six months that Eddie didn’t see Steve, even if it was only in passing or a quick little jaunt down to Family Video, he’s a constant presence in Eddie’s life.

To lose that? Would be like losing a part of himself. Like losing a limb. Losing his home.

And he’s scared. He doesn’t want to let Steve walk out that door, the weight of losing him forever lingering in the air. But he can’t trap him here. That wouldn’t be fair to Steve.

He moves out of the way, taking a step towards Steve, but he sidesteps Eddie and reaches for the door.

“Steve-”

“Don’t worry about me, Eddie,” he doesn’t turn around, but hesitates halfway out the door. “I’ll be fine.”

With the soft click of the door closing, he’s gone.

And that should be the end of it. Closed book. Eddie doesn’t like Steve and Steve needs to move on. There’s not much Eddie can do about that.

But it haunts him.

If you didn’t know Steve, you wouldn’t realize that anything was wrong. He’s acting normal, smile on his face when he jokes with Robin, complaining about the kids being terrors, going to his job.

But there’s something in the set of his shoulders, in the way his smile droops when he thinks no one’s paying attention to him, in the way Robin protectively hovers around him when Eddie is nearby. It’s clearly a facade he’s putting on to get by.

And Eddie aches. There’s a pit in his stomach that opened up that day and it hasn’t closed. Steve avoids his touch and the chasm grows larger, dragging Eddie further into the darkness. Casual hangouts halted. No more divulging of nightmares or fears late at night. A piece of Eddie is with Steve and he’s bereft of comfort. Unsettled.

He lies awake replaying that kiss over and over in his head. Thinking about what Steve said after. There’s no comfort in the way he handled the situation. It feels like he miscalculated, like pushing Steve away was the wrong move and now his life will never be the same again.

Maybe it won’t. Maybe there’s no way for them to move forward and for him to not break Steve’s heart every day. Steve said he was an idiot, but Eddie’s positive he’s got it all backwards. Eddie’s the idiot.

And he can’t stop thinking about kissing Steve.

[arpicityandneed]

How about a cockholding stucky x black reader

a/n: How about hell the fuck yeah

18+ black f!reader. Husband!Steve. Dom!Bucky. Bi!Steve. Bi!Bucky. Dirty talk. Creampie. Cuckolding.

"Care to share with the class, Rogers?" Bucky drawled before taking a sip of his beer.

"What do you mean Buck?" Steve traced the rim of his beer with his finger, desperately avoiding his best friends eyes. There was no way in hell he was sharing the thoughts running wild in his head.

"You've been staring at your beer for thirty minutes. This is supposed to be our guys night out without y/n. Come on, punk. Talk to me." Bucky could have charmed the birds from the trees if he wanted, and Steve feel his defenses crumbling when Bucky turned his sincere gaze towards him.

"It's nothing." Steve mumbled, his dick already perking up from the embarrassment of the situation. God why was he like this?

"And the sky is green. Bullshit. Alright, you leave me no choice." Bucky took out his phone, showing Steve the screen with your contact on it. "I'll just call your wife and ask her, she'll know."

"No! Please, fuck, alright I'll tell you but you gotta swear you won't laugh." Steve panicked, the last thing he needed was for you to find out what a perv he was.

"That's what I thought." Bucky smirked and settled back into his seat expectantly. "Well?"

"Do you know.. what cuckolding is?" Steve glanced around the bar and kept his voice low, noticing the way Bucky's eyes immediately darkened.

"Now what would goody two shoes Steven Grant Rogers know about that?" Bucky's voice grew deeper. He leaned in close enough that Steve could smell his colonge, spicy and warm and all man. Steve had to readjust himself under the table as he tried to continue, his erection straining in his pants.

"I can't stop thinking about it. I saw a video by accident and..." Steve couldn't finish the sentence but by the way Bucky whistled, low and appreciative his best friend could guess.

"By accident huh. What your fingers slip or something?" Steve flushed a pretty pink at being caught.

"Something like that.” Steve avoided Bucky’s gaze for a long moment.

“So you want someone to fuck y/n?” Bucky asked bluntly, letting Steve choke on his beer for a second before patting his back gently. “Come on Rogers, use your words.”

“…Not someone.” Steve knew his face would be red as a tomato so he kept staring into his beer like it had the answers to the universe.

“Who?” Bucky asked, a slow wicked smile spreading across his lips when Steve refused to answer. “Oh now that’s interesting.”

“She always looks at you anyway.” Steve chewed on his lower lip as he spoke low and quiet. “Plus, I think you’d make her feel good.”

“Steve, if you let me—” Bucky’s pupils were blown wide when Steve finally looked up. “I’d make her cum till she begged for a break.”

~

Steve was having a hard time staying on his feet watching Bucky cup your face in his hands and kiss you for the first time. He sat like a stone on the chair they’d brought into the bedroom, grunting as all the blood rushed to his dick from the sight alone.

“I think he likes it.” Bucky drawled with amusement as he pulled back, noting the hazy look in your eyes as you gazed up at him. “I think you like it too doll.”

“You sure know how to kiss, Buck. Ain’t that right baby?” You called over to your husband as Bucky brushed your braids aside so he could start nibbling on your neck, his hands roaming over your luscious curves so possessively it made you shiver.

“How would I know?” Steve blushed furiously, not realizing how obvious his crush on his best friend was.

“You’ll get your turn Rogers, patience.” Bucky promised as he looked over his shoulder at Steve. “But first I think you wanted a show, right?”

“Fuck yes. Please.” Steve nodded so fast and hard Bucky laughed, some of the awkwardness of the situation disappearing.

“You know your safewords don’t you baby?” Bucky asked you as he started stripping off your clothes, your rich tawny skin exposed one inch at a time. You nodded and Bucky’s hands couldn’t stop pawing at your ass, your tiny waist, even your tits when they bounced free.

“Beautiful.” He breathed as Steve watched the love of his life get manhandled. Steve’s cock wouldn’t stop leaking in his pants, the wet spot growing with each passing moment until he couldn’t resist taking out his shaft and squeezing the base to try and stave off the orgasm that threatened to overwhelm him. He didn’t want to cum until Bucky was balls deep inside you—and god just the thought made his balls ache.

“Flattery will get you everywhere Mr. Barnes.” You ducked your head shyly from the praise but could resist tugging at his shirt with a pout. “Now you, I want to see you.”

“As you command Mrs. Rogers.” Bucky grinned and started tearing off his own clothes hastily, dying to get his hands on you. The second he was fully naked and Steve saw his cock the blond whimpered.

Bucky was fucking hung.

Thicker than Steve’s own cock and with heavy balls Steve knew would knock you up if given half the chance.

“C’mere big boy.” You murmured as you reached out to pull Bucky closer. This time when you kissed you felt his leaking tip pressing into your belly, making your cunt throb with need.

“I’m not gonna last if you keep teasing me.” Steve tried to sound stern but considering he whined the words, neither of you took him very seriously.

Bucky merely gave your ass a squeeze and ordered softly, “Bed. Now.”

Then he turned to Steve and walked over confidently, stopping just shy of shoving his dick in his best friends face.

“You’re going to watch, and you’re not going to cum without permission because that would make you a bad boy. You don’t want to be bad do you Stevie?” Bucky asked quietly, his control over the both of you ironclad without him ever needing to raise his voice.

“No, Buck. Sir. Fuck.” Steve wasn’t even looking at Bucky, not really. He was staring at his cock with shameless longing.

“If you’re a good boy I’ll let you eat my cum out of her. Deal?” Bucky smirked when Steve merely licked his lips. “I need an answer here, Rogers.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be good. Promise.” Steve blinked like he was waking up from being hypnotized and just for that Bucky decided he’d have Steve on his knees for him after he was done with you.

“Good boy.”

~

Steve had made a deal with the devil.

How was he not supposed to cum when you were getting pounded into the mattress? Bucky had you on your stomach, prone boned until your eyes crossed from how deep he was inside your dripping pussy.

And he wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

“Best fucking pussy I ever fucked, goddamnit Stevie isn’t fucking you right—” Steve whimpered at that. “No way he’s giving you enough dick if you’re still this tight.”

“He,” you hiccuped, tears on your lashes from cumming so many times until the pleasure was almost painful, “He tries!” you cried and Steve’s tip leaked pre all over his fist as he squeezed as hard as he could.

“Not, fucking, good, enough.” Every balls deep thrust squelched its way through your creamy folds, and Bucky loved watching your ass jiggle every time his hips slapped against it.

“I’m gonna have to bend you over more often baby, gotta give you all the dick your hungry little pussy needs.” Bucky groaned as he got close after an hour of just reveling in how your pussy felt wrapped around him. His stamina and control put Steve to shame without even trying.

“Please…” Steve whined as he watched, his pretty baby blues glossed over and his whole face and chest covered in the pinkest blush.

“Need to cum, cuck?” Bucky got a little mean when he realized how much Steve liked being embarrassed.

“Yes, please, please—” Steve begged shamelessly as he tugged at his balls.

“Come here then, paint her face and tell her how much you like seeing her get fucked.” Bucky purred the words and growled when your pussy clenched around him. “You like that huh? Dirty girl.”

Steve scrambled to his feet and made it over to the bed in record time, jacking his cock furiously over you as you looked up at him so trustingly.

“You’re so -fuck- so fucking pretty baby. Taking his cock like you were born to.” Steve groaned as he came within seconds, unable to hold back any longer. But seeing your beautiful face and plush lips covered in his cum, the pearly liquid reflecting off your darker skin made him hard all over again.

“Good boys get rewarded, Stevie. And I gotta big reward for you.” Bucky fucked you harder as he started to cum, slamming his hips into yours so his cum was tucked safe and sound in the depths of your pussy. His load was thick and hot and overwhelming as it made its was into you. When he finally pulled out your pussy couldn’t hold it all in, leaking onto the sheets as your hole clenched on air.

Bucky leaned back on his heels for a second, enjoying the view, before he grinned at Steve.

“Come on cuck, come get your snack.”

[lovebugism]

Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕

ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)

“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.

Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”

You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once. 

He’s lucky he’s so pretty.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.

“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”

“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”

“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.

“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.

“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.

“You,” Eddie deadpans.

You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”

Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?” 

The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.

“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”

Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”

“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”

“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.

“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.

Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”

“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.

All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.

“You have everything but the looks.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”

“Can’t I?”

“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.

“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.

“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”

“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”

Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back. 

“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.

Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”

“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.

Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.

“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”

Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.

“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”

“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”

“It’s different. You know that.”

You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean. 

You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.

“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.

“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”

The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too. 

You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.

“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”

“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”

“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”

You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie. 

He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.

Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”

“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”

He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”

“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”

Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.

You cower under his stare. “What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.

“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.

“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.

You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.

“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”

You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again. 

This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.

Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.

“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”

“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.

“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”

Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.

The game of cat and mouse continues.

[tldrthor]

The Princess (and the chaos she brings with her) - steve rogers x fem!reader (1/?)

Summary: when Thor asked the avengers to guard a dear friend of his, they didn't think twice before saying yes. What they didn't know was that said friend is the princess of one of the nine realms, and a lost love of one Captain Rogers.

Part 1 // I thought you were dead // word count: 3.5k

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"(y/n), you have to eject, right now!" Steve screamed over the torrents of wind whistling through the ship. Schmidt was dead, gone. So was the tesseract. But it wasn't over yet. "I have to put her in the water!"

The girl behind him widened her eyes, battling against the elements to reach him. "There's no world in which I let you do that, Captain!"

"I'm not asking for permission!"

"Well then, I guess we go down together!" She painstakingly made her way to him, every step a feat of strength. Her previously neatly pinned curls no longer even resembled what they once were as her hair whipped around her face.

As Steve turned to face her, she somehow still looked angelic. He felt that right now, she was more heavenly than ever. He couldn't let her die with him.

"Buckle in." He commanded, as they began their quick descent. He looked at her, the first woman who had ever made him feel seen, the only person he had ever met who was as crazy as he was.

As the ice flew closer, he turned and placed a hand tenderly on her face. Tears welled in his eyes as his mind wandered to the future they could've had. God, they could have been amazing.

"I'm sorry, (y/n)." He whispered. She could only just hear it, even though they were right next to each other.

He pulled the yellow ejection lever on the seat she had just buckled herself into, watching as her eyes widened. "No! Steve, no!" She lifted her hands to stop him, to jam the lever, anything to stay with him. She wasn't quick enough.

Steve closed his eyes as her seat was ejected, hearing her scream his name. There was no world where he allowed her to go down with him, and he trusted that wherever she ended up, Stark and Peggy would find her. He hoped they would be able to find him, too.

He hadn't prayed in a long time, but as he went down, he bargained with God for her safety.

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"It is my honour to introduce the new and improved Captain America and the Howling Commandos exhibit, in honour of the 100th birthday of Captain Steven Grant Rogers." The crowd clapped as the senator stepped off the podium, motioning for Steve to take the mic. Bucky and Sam laughed at how uncomfortable the Captain was as he stood thanking everyone for an exhibit he never wanted. All part of the job, he supposed.

After the handshakes, and the photo ops, and the autographs and the meet and greets, the boys finally got relative peace to wander around the new exhibition.

"I can't believe you used to wear these stupid suits." Sam laughed, standing in front of the main exhibit. Bucky sighed, budging Sam's shoulder. "Says the asshole who wears a bird suit to fight." He retorts.

Steve laughed at his friends antics, but walked away when he noticed an addition to the exhibit he hadn't seen before. He stared, wide eyed at the name in front of him.

(Y/N): THE MISSING HERO?

Steve found himself drinking in every inch of the gorgeous photo underneath the text, her bright smile and barely visible freckles. The lighting highlighted the different hues in her immaculately pinned hair. She looked just like an angel, as she always did in real life.

Steve looked down, forlorn eyes investigating very few artefacts in the glass exhibit. Her folded uniform, found in her room after the plane went down. The blush lipstick you wore every day. Finally, an object that Steve didn't recognise. A golden ring, encrusted in unidentified jewels and a family crest no one knew. He frowned.

He had known her only a short few months, but he regretted never asking about her family. And now, it would haunt him that he never did until his last breath.

"They never found her, huh?" Bucky placed his covered hand on Steve's shoulder, a sadness tinged in his voice. He had only met (y/n) briefly, but he knew even then that Steve's heart rested in the palm of that woman's hand.

He had asked about her, once, but the look on Steve's face when her name was mentioned told him everything he needed to know.

"No. Howard searched for years, found nothing. Turned out that she had lied on her intake forms for the SSR, too. We don't even know if (y/n) was really her name." He took a beat. "We have no idea if she survived or not."

Steve didn't have to make the subtext clear, Bucky knew he worried that he had killed her by ejecting her from that plane. Bucky also knew there was no sense in trying to tell him she would have died either way, that the ice would've killed her.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, after another few moments of silence.

Steve nodded, looking at the photo. "I'm glad she's remembered. I just wish I didn't have so many unanswered questions."

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"So," Tony started. "Thor is arriving with the guest of honour later today, who we have agreed to protect here for the meantime. We don't have a lot of background for this one. The dark elves are the ones we're protecting her against, but Thor said threat could come from many areas. Do we have any questions?"

The team looked nothing short of bored. Well, most of them. Cap always had the good grace to sit up and look interested. Scott was straight up asleep.

"Is she important? How long will she be staying with us?" Steve asked.

"No idea, and uh, no idea. Anything else?"

"Is she single?" Sam asked, earning a laugh from some of the others. Steve shook his head disapprovingly, but smiled at his friend's levity.

As Steve stood up to go back to training, FRIDAY sounded around the room. "Excuse me everyone, my satellites have detected a bifrost signal heading for the compound imminently."

"Speak of the devil!" Tony clapped his hands as everyone headed out to the bifrost landing site (something that had been instituted after Tony's lawn got scorched one too many times).

Bucky smacked Scott upside the head to wake him up with a jolt. "Oh, where are you guys going?" He called behind them, jogging to catch up. Steve waited behind from him, laughing at his groggy friend.

A bright light connected with the grass just beside the landing site. Tony's hands covered his eyes as he mouthed are you fucking kidding me. When the light cleared, Thor stood tall in his usual armour.

"My friends!" His voice boomed, "I present to you, my fellow avengers, the honourable princess of Alfheim, jewel of the Alfar and ambassador to Asgard." Thor's voice boomed through the halls of the compound. "This is my friend, (y/n)."

Beside Thor stood a girl. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a heavenly stature. She looked like she could have been carved from marble by the hands of God himself.

A light Asgardian pink dress was covered by a golden chest-plate which fit her body like it had been moulded just for her. It was covered in intricate etchings of suns and stars, which caught the light and shone brilliantly. She wore golden jewellery, which was nothing like the avengers had ever seen. Golden ear cuffs covered her pointed ears, with her long hair pulled into an up-do, emphasising the golden, bejewelled tiara on her head.

"Princess?" Sam squeaked. Wanda smacked him, with a look that screamed don't embarrass us.

Tony tilted his head in confusion at the guest, who he could almost swear he recognised from somewhere. "Thor, you did not inform us that we were looking after the ruler of a planet. We would have been more prepared."

"I am not ruler yet, Mr. Stark." The girl cast her eyes up at Tony, as she smiled sweetly. Her voice was honey smooth, and anyone who heard it felt themselves being charmed by it. "I have heard much about you all from Thor."

"Should we bow?" Bruce whispered to Tony, who shrugged his shoulders. Thankfully, (y/n) took the lead and shook each of their hands.

She looked around at each of the gathered avengers. Thor made his introductions to the rest of the group. "Where are the others?" Thor enquired.

"Here!" Steve smiled at the site of his old friend, his view of the princess obscured by the large man. Bucky and Scott tagged behind him, also happily greeting Thor.

"Captain, it is very good to see you. Please, let me introduce you to the Princess (y/n)." Thor stepped aside to introduce them, but his eyebrows knitted together in confusion when neither of them moved, almost frozen in place.

"Uh... hi." Scott side-stepped the Captain and caught the eye of their guest. "My name's Scott Lang."

The girl tore her eyes away from the captain, unsure really on what to do. But her training kicked in, knowing that being rude was one of the worst sins a princess could commit. "Hello, Mr. Lang. I am (y/n)."

"Holy shit." Bucky breathed out.

The rest of the avengers watched the rather silent exchange with confusion. It was very unlike Steve to get so tongue-tied, and he would never be so rude as to not introduce himself.

"Captain Rogers..." The girl spoke first, confusing them further. "I believed you dead." Tears had welled in her eyes, intriguing the observing crowd even more.

"I thought you were dead." He breathed. "What... what is going on?"

Bucky interjected. "Um, hi. I'm Bucky, we met briefly in '45."

She smiled softly at him, but her eyes betrayed her confusion. "Sergeant Barnes, of course! Didn't you... also die?"

"Yeah, we've all got a lot of explaining to do." Bucky laughed as the absurdity of the situation caught up to him.

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

Thor's eyes darted between his friend and the captain. When Thor asked the avengers to guard her from the war on Alfheim, he knew some hijinks would ensue. This is not what he expected. He knew you had spent some time on Midgard before and when you returned you were emotionally distraught. He had simply figured the war you had fought with the Midgardians had taken it's toll.

He eyed both the Captain and you, suspiciously. You were his dear friend, but you had never talked to him about any mortal love.

"So, Princess. You've been here before." Tony enquired.

The Princess licked her lips nervously, glancing at Steve, who had barely moved a muscle, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yes, Mr. Stark. I spent some time here during the second world war. I left Midgard when Johann Schmidt was defeated, and haven't returned since."

"Tell us about your world, Princess. I've never heard of it before." Natasha, the red-head in the corner, asked the guest.

"You have heard of it before." The princess smiled, explaining. "I believe we are now known as a fantasy character here - you call us elves." She pointed to her pointed ears as each avenger clung to her words.

Thor smiled at his Midgardian friends' curiosity.

"The Alfar still live amongst you, they are simply unseen. I believe you may know Tolkien?" At the mention of the author's name, everyone's ears pricked. "He was one of my father's greatest friends and many of his book settings were inspired by Alfheim."

"What!" Scott exclaimed. "That's insane."

"Really, Ant Man?" Bucky responded, pointing out that they were all ridiculous, when you thought about it. The world was crazy now.

The princess chuckled, and rose from her seat at the conference table. "Thank you very much for your hospitality, Avengers. I would quite like to rest in my chambers, if you would be so gracious to allow me."

"Um, yeah... consider yourself allowed." Tony stumbled over his words. Very unusual for him, and it did not go unnoticed by the others. "Dinner is at seven."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark. Captain Rogers," She addressed the Captain, who looked up quickly. His face was pale, and he nervously twiddled his thumbs. "Would you be so kind as to show me my rooms?"

He popped up, almost comedically fast. "Yes. Yeah, sure. Um, this way." He walked out quickly, darting his eyes back to make sure the princess was following him.

She followed, gracefully. Her skirts fanned out behind her as she walked. The avengers in the room could scarcely take their eyes off her as she faded from sight.

As soon as the door closed behind them, the room devolved into chaos. People shouting theories and questions left, right and centre. Mostly, everyone was just bewildered. Bucky and Thor discussed how they had both known the couple separately, and whether each had talked about the other.

Natasha watched as Tony sat quietly on his tablet for a few seconds, searching for something she could only assume was relevant to the discussion at hand.

"Bucky, what's the deal there?" Clint asked.

He was interrupted by Tony. "Aha!" Stark called, silencing the room. "I knew I recognised her from somewhere."

He projected a photograph to the wall, and the avengers gasped.

The photograph consisted of Steve and Bucky front and centre. Bucky had his left arm wrapped lazily around Tony's dad, Howard. And Steve was looking directly at the girl next to him, holding her to him by the waist. It was the princess. The gaze he looked at her with... it was like nothing they had ever seen from him.

"They didn't just know each other, they were in love." Bucky replied to Clint's question, a hint of sadness underneath his words.

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

(Y/n) followed Steve along the large corridors of the compound, her smaller legs working double time to match his long strides. They walked in silence, for the most part. It wasn't the comfortable kind.

"Captain." She spoke first, again. As she called for him, he stopped walking abruptly, turning slowly. He met her gaze and then cast his eye down.

"(y/n)... I mean, um, Princess." He responded.

"(y/n) is sufficient." She whispered, almost guiltily. "I can't believe you're alive..."

"I can't believe you're alive," He retorted. "I searched for you, when I woke up. They couldn't find any records of you other than your enlistment form, and they found you had lied. People think you're just a ghost story..."

He took a breath. "I can't believe you're here and... an alien princess?"

"I know it's hard to believe, I hope you understand why I couldn't tell you back then." She laughed. "When I found that you and Sergeant Barnes were dead, I couldn't face being here anymore... I returned to Alfheim."

As she thought back on it, a tear sprung to her eye. On seeing her reaction, Steve couldn't help himself but place a friendly hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles. She briefly froze at the contact, but quickly, she moved her own hand down his arm until she was holding onto his hand with both of hers.

So much went unsaid, but the contact confirmed what they had both most desperately wanted to know. Would it be the same?

"If I had known that you and Sergeant Barnes were alive, Captain..." She admitted. "I would have returned in an instant, I give you my word."

He smiled, rubbing a thumb over the back of her hand. A red blush hugged her cheeks as he did so.

It was typical of him that he couldn't concentrate on the moment, "Why are you here?" He asked. "What are we protecting you from?"

She sighed. "The Svartalfar, or the dark elves. You may know them - they attacked Thor in the Midgardian city of London some years ago now." He nodded in recognition.

"They are determined to conquer Alfheim, and have set their sights on my family. They have already managed to get close to killing me."

She pushed the collar of her dress down, showing a large, angry, red scar just above her collarbone. His hands flew up to trace the scar. She gulped at the close contact, her eyes meeting his.

His expression gave away his concern, knowing that Thor had suggested she was in a lot of danger. "Don't worry, Princess. You're safe here." He smiled, softly. "We'll protect you with everything we've got."

"Thank you, Captain."

"It's just Steve." He unhooked their hands, and gave her his arm. She linked her arm in his, and he resumed wandering down the halls to her rooms. "Do you have any bags?"

"No, I fled to Asgard with nothing when I needed healing. The Asgardians were kind enough to offer many gorgeous clothes for me to bring, but I figured they were a bit conspicuous."

Steve laughed, "Yeah, they might be."

They walked for a little while longer, before Steve entered a room to the side. It was rather basic compared to what she was used to, but it would more than suffice for the meantime.

"This is your room." He stood by the door as she entered. "I'm just down the hall if you need anything. I'll get Tony to send you some less conspicuous clothes. See you at dinner."

"Thank you, Steven." He laughed at her inability to be too informal with him. He nodded at her, and turned to walk down the hall to his room.

As he entered, the photograph of her from the Smithsonian caught his eye from the nightstand. He picked it up, tracing her features with his finger - unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. Who would've thought? Not only was his girl alive, she was also alien royalty. Sometimes, just sometimes, he adored his strange, strange world.

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

"Sir," The agent walked into the dark room with purpose in her every step. "The Princess has been spotted."

The man in the chair looked up at the mention of his target. "Show me" he ordered. He watched as agent transferred the images on her tablet to the big screen, showing grainy, far away surveillance of the avengers compound.

As low quality as the image was, the woman arriving with Thor in the distinctive Alfar dress and armour was certainly the princess.

"Oh, my dear..." The man's deep voice dragged out. "You have walked right into our sights."

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

a/n: let me know what you think! if you can't tell, this is basically the set up for a longer series... i'm really excited to explore this character and get deeper into the relationships!

i've never really written in the third person POV before, so let me know if it's something you like or not, and i can switch for the next part.

please like/reblog if you enjoy! let me know if you would like to be tagged in the next part <3

[steveseddie]

asking for a friend

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: shopping | rating: t | wc: 1000 | tags: modern setting, meet-cute, steve works at target, eddie is a gay disaster, chrissy & eddie are best friends

read on ao3

Eddie hates Christmas shopping.

Every year he puts it off for as long as he can only to end up at fucking Target on December 23rd surrounded by screaming children, mean parents, annoyingly loud Christmas music and more desperate last-minute shoppers.

This year is no exception but Eddie does have someone else to blame.

Steve. Target’s hottest employee.

Eddie saw him for the first time a few weeks ago. He was at the cash register, looking both sexy and adorable in a tight red shirt and a Santa hat as he wished customers a Merry Christmas with a smile that made Eddie’s knees weak.

Knowing that he’d probably embarrass himself if he tried to talk to him, Eddie left the store, flustered and giftless.

A few days later, he came back and the guy– Steve, according to his name tag– was greeting people at the entrance. Eddie didn’t even make it inside that time.

He made a few more attempts but Steve was always there. Restocking toys, fixing the decorations, dressing up mannequins. And every time, Eddie turned on his heel and left.

As Christmas approached, Eddie started getting desperate so he gave Chrissy twenty dollars to find out when Steve wouldn’t be working. She welcomed the money and the excuse to talk to Steve’s coworker, and told Eddie that Steve wouldn’t be here today. And even if Eddie hated the idea of shopping on Christmas Eve Eve, it was his only option.

At least he only has one gift left.

So of course that’s when Eddie sees him. Steve helping a little girl reach a Barbie from the highest shelf.

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters, hiding behind a mannequin. He peeks around it to make sure he isn’t imagining things, after all he’s been thinking about Steve a lot lately so maybe–

Nope, that’s definitely Steve. He’d recognize that ass in those pants anywhere after watching him through the store’s windows.

“What the fuck?” Eddie repeats, balancing the gifts in one hand so he can call Chrissy.

“Hello?”

Eddie growls. “Chrissy, you bitch.”

“Hello to you too, Eddie.”

“Don’t be cute,” he snaps. “You’re a liar.”

“What?” She asks, confused. “Wait, where are you? I can barely hear you.”

Hell. “Buying Christmas presents.” Same thing really.

“Isn’t it a little late for that?”

“Duh! But I had to wait until Steve wasn’t working, remember? Well, guess who’s here?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I might’ve– gotten a little distracted talking to Robin and couldn’t remember if he said the 21st or the 23rd. Whoops.”

“You had one job, Cunningham!” Eddie groans. “I want my twenty dollars back.”

“Sorry, I spent them already.“

“On what?”

“Your Christmas present,” she giggles. “Hey, maybe this is a good thing. Talk to him!”

“Fuck no, I’m leaving. Fuck Christmas, it’s a capitalist consumerist ploy anyway.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she says but Eddie is already heading for the exit.

“I’m not! I just don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

“Eddie–”

But Eddie doesn’t hear what Chrissy has to say because in that moment he knocks over a pyramid of toys and faceplants amidst the boxes, his phone and his gifts flying from his hands.

Eddie groans, both from the pain and the embarrassment. He can feel his face already starting to burn and he seriously considers staying there, buried in toys, forever.

At least until someone says, “Christ, are you okay?” and Eddie has no choice but to roll over only to immediately wish he didn’t when he sees Steve leaning over him.

“I’m fine,” he mutters. “What are you doing here?”

Steve offers Eddie his hand, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “Helping you?”

“I mean, here,” Eddie gestures around them. “You aren’t supposed to be working today.”

“That’s not what my manager told me,” Steve jokes while clearly confused.

“It’s what Chrissy told me,” Eddie says, letting Steve effortlessly pull him to his feet.

“Chrissy? The blonde who flirted with Robin?” He asks. “I was confused why she wanted to know if I had any days off.”

Eddie hangs a hand from his neck. “She didn’t. I did.”

Steve frowns. “So you could avoid me? Is that why you never came in or bought anything?”

“It’s just that I always embarrass myself in front of hot guys and I was trying to avoid that!” Eddie sighs. “Obviously, I failed.” Then he realizes what Steve just said and blinks. “Wait, you noticed me?”

Steve’s lips stretch into a flirty grin. “Of course, I always notice cute guys.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, hiding his blush by tugging some hair across his face.

Still grinning, Steve bends down to pick up Eddie’s gifts. “So, want me to ring these up for you?”

Eddie gestures at his mess. “What about the toys?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell Jason to clean it up,” Steve smirks. “He’s our newest hire. And he’s a dick.”

Eddie chuckles. “Okay.”

They bring the gifts to the cash register and Eddie tries not to blatantly check Steve out as he does his job. Steve’s wink probably means he fails.

“All done!” He says, giving Eddie his bag and the receipt. “Merry Christmas–”

“Eddie.”

Steve grins lopsidedly. “Eddie.”

“Thanks, um, Merry Christmas.” He waves awkwardly.

Then thinks, fuck it. He already embarrassed himself anyway. “Hey, uh, when do you get off?”

“Asking for a friend?” Steve teases.

“Nope.”

Steve’s face splits into a grin. “I’m done in an hour.”

“Wanna get coffee with me? There’s a nice cafe a few blocks away.”

“I’d love to,” Steve says, “I put my number in the receipt, text me and I’ll tell you when I’m on my way.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, he checks the receipt and chuckles. “Cool,” he says, stomach fluttering as he walks away, almost knocking over another toy display because he can’t stop glancing back at Steve.

But he makes it out without embarrassing himself and he has all his gifts and a date with a hot guy.

Maybe Christmas shopping isn’t so bad after all.

[strangersteddierthings]

Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

-

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

[traveler-at-heart]

Lessons of Love

Summary: So, Nerd!Natasha and Fem!R, their first date and everything fluffy. I just have a lot of thoughts about them and maybe this will be a series (and it will eventually contain G!P Natasha so if that's not your thing, you've been warned). Nerd!Natasha x Fem!Rogers Reader

Don’t count the days, make the days count.

Natasha’s father had told her that as if it was ancient wisdom and not a fortune cookie message.

It was also easier to say it when you didn’t have to attend high school. There were days when she couldn’t cope with it, like when the football team was agitated before a match, or there was some drama around the most popular people in school.

Those times were a stark reminder that Natasha had no one to talk to, a confidant to mock the jocks or a friend to share the gossip with.

Genius comes with a cost.

That one was her mom’s way of comforting Natasha.

She was the smartest person in school, miles above her peers. What she didn’t have in social intelligence, she more than made up with a sharp, quick and brilliant mind.

But as she entered the chem lab, and took a seat at the last table where she was always alone, Natasha wished that things could be different.

If only for a day.

“Morning, everyone” professor Fury greeted as people went to their seats. “You might have heard about an explosion during class” the few giggles that were heard were quickly silenced by Fury’s glare. “So, to keep this from happening again, we’ll switch the teams for the rest of the semester”

Natasha’s heart raced. What if people could choose and then she’d end up front of the class, everyone staring because no one picked her?

“So, alphabetically” Fury read the list, Natasha going over the name that was before hers…

Rogers.

She looked at you, sitting next to Wanda on one of the first tables. You waved at the twins when their names were called, laughing at Wanda’s annoyed stare. Being paired with her brother meant she’d do most of the work while he fooled around.

“Rogers and Romanoff”

Natasha saw you gathering your things and looking around. When you found her, a smile broke out and you walked to join her in the back of the room.

How does one greet the most popular girl in school? Head of cheerleaders, little sister of legendary quarterback Steve Rogers, not to mention the most beautiful girl in all of Shield High.

Not that Natasha was paying attention.

“Hey, Natty” you greeted, sitting next to her and looking around. “Wow, you can really see everything from here”

“I-I guess”

Natasha wanted to crawl under the table and hide. What was she supposed to talk about?

“Guess it’s my lucky day” you said, unable to deal with the silence. Natasha had a hard time understanding if you were being sarcastic. “I mean, you’re the capitan of the Science Club. So, that makes you the best partner anyone could hope for in Chemistry”

Natasha didn’t have time to answer, as Fury finally started with the lesson. Once he gave you all the instructions and wrote some exercises on the board, everyone went silent. Of course, Natasha was done in half the time.

“Show off” you teased and felt your heart beating faster when Natasha actually laughed.

“Want help?” she offered and you went over your notes, nodding.

“I think I got most of them except… this one?” you pointed with your pencil. Natasha leaned, reading again and pulling her chair closer to yours.

“You see, when you choose a coefficient, try to select one as low as possible”

“And that would affect all of the atoms in the molecule” you said and Natasha nodded. “Ok, I think I got it”

But the redhead kept staring as you began to write again, and you poked her side.

“Stop it, Romanoff”

You went back to work, missing the way Natasha blushed at the physical contact.

“Good. Now, I want you to get to know each other even better, so you’ll do a project for next class. Do not sass me, youths” Fury raised his voice as everyone began to protest.

“We’ve known each other our whole lives, can we skip this one?” Pietro said while pointing to his sister, and everyone laughed.

“No” Fury said, turning to write on the board again. “Do some research on why it’s important to balance chemical equations and what other parts of chemistry rely on this skill. Bonus points for concrete examples where it helped advance important research on other fields”

He dismissed the class, and everyone began to pack their bags to move to the next session.

“So… uh… how do you wanna do this? Wanna meet somewhere?” Natasha said, unfamiliar with team projects. Teachers would let her work alone, because pairing her with someone meant she’d do all the work and split the credit.

“Yeah, not my place though. The boys have their weekly pool game after football practice and they can get so loud” you rolled your eyes, walking out of the classroom next to the girl.

Natasha’s stomach turned at the idea of being anywhere near the school jocks.

“So, the school library?” you offered, giving her a way out in case her house was off limits.

“I think my mom has more books about it than the library”

Damn it, where did that come from? She couldn’t handle a class with you and now she was suggesting her place? Where would you even work? And Melina would make some embarrassing remark, or Alexei would ask a million questions and say something silly…

“Yeah, cool. I’ll stop by after cheerleading practice”

“Let me give you the address”

“Natty, I know where you live” you chuckled, surprised that she seemed surprised. “Remember your birthday party? I was there”

“That was like seven years ago”

“Yeah, so? I remember” you smiled. “Gotta run, see you later”

Natasha stared as you walked to History class. You turned around one last time, smiling shyly and waving at her.

Natasha waved back, her cheeks turning red at being caught staring.

Crap, she wasn’t going to survive this assignment.

—

You went up the steps, fixing your hair before ringing the doorbell.

God, how were you going to manage this afternoon with Natasha? You were barely able to keep it together during class.

You were still torn on how to manage your fight or flight response when the door opened.

“Y/N!” Natasha’s sister practically shouted your name.

“Hey, Yelena. I’m here to…”

“You know my name” the girl said.

“Well, yeah, you’re Nat’s sister”

Speak of the devil.

“Yelena!” Natasha went down the stairs in record time.

“What?” Yelena said, talking back as soon as Natasha switched to Russian. They went back and forth for a while, and you stood outside, wondering if you’d ever manage to get in.

“Sorry about that” Nat finally turned to you, Yelena leaving the room in a rush.

“No worries. I couldn’t understand you. Literally”

“My room’s this way” Natasha said, scratching the back of her neck.

A second later, she regretted letting you go up the stairs first. Your skirt moved with each step you took, toned legs in full display. Natasha had to pray she wouldn’t trip on the way up.

“Which door?” you turned to look at her, her ears red. You bit your lip, trying not to think how adorable she looked all flustered.

“The one on the right” she pointed and you nodded, waiting for her to tell you it was ok to open it.

“Wow” you said, looking around at the shelves full of books and scale models of different machines.

“You can take the chair if you want” Natasha offered her desk, and you were so busy reading the titles of the books you almost didn’t hear her.

“Oh, that’s ok. I can sit on the bed” you said, placing your backpack in the corner. You pulled out your laptop and opened a new tab. “I was thinking we can get all the info we need, and then decide how to organize it. I’ll write a draft and you can review it”

It was Natasha’s turn to be distracted, appreciating the way you leaned against her headboard, stretching your arms above your head.

“I-I got some books from my mom’s study.  Let me find the right one…” she sat on the floor and you laid on your stomach, your heads at the same height as you looked over her shoulder.

Natasha began reading and taking notes, while you reviewed some articles on your laptop.

“Ready”

“Ok” you said, changing to sit next to her on the floor. Natasha felt your shoulder against her arm, and your sweet parfume invaded her senses.

You always smelled good. And looked so pretty. It was hard to focus but she managed just enough to dictate some of the things she’d found useful.

“You don’t have to write this down, but let me know if you think any of it is interesting for the paper” she said, and you really wanted to pay attention, but your eyes kept drifting to her lips. “Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, I’m boring you” Natasha said, closing the book and looking dejected. She was about to put it away when you reached for her hand, sitting up.

“Now hold on. You weren’t boring me”

“It’s ok”

“Nat, look at me” you asked. The redhead seemed to forget you had moved closer when you reached for her hand, and when she turned to look at you, you were inches apart.

“I…”

Was she looking at your lips? Were you leaning forward? Did she want this?

You didn’t have time to find out, as the door to Natasha’s room opened and you jumped back.

“Oh! Yelena was telling the truth”

“Hi, Mrs. Romanoff” you greeted, hoping she didn’t notice your cheeks turning pink.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you. Why are you sitting on the floor? Natalia, where are your manners?”

“Mom”

“No, that’s ok. I prefer the floor. Your hydrengias are looking spectacular, by the way” you tried to change the subject.

“Thanks to you! You were right about the change of place. Oh, I should have sent you a plate of cookies, you helped me with it and I didn’t even thank you”

“That’s ok, Mrs. Romanoff”

“Well if you want to stay for dinner, you’re more than welcomed” Melina turned to her daughter, with a more serious demeanor. “And you, remember to put those books right where they belong. I have a very particular system”

“Yes, Ma’am” 

“So…”

“I…”

You both spoke at the same time. 

“Sorry” you tried to breathe, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “You were saying?”

“I didn’t know you spoke to my mom about flowers?”

“Oh, that” you blushed and Natasha bit her lip, drinking in every word you said. “Yeah, Mom and I ran into her at the farmer’s market. They were talking about plants and we gave her some tips. That’s how we spend quality time, working on the garden”

Natasha nodded, but you still stared at her.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, looking at her lips. Natasha swallowed and nodded. “I… uh… why was Yelena acting weird when she saw me?”

That’s not what you meant to ask, but you had lost your courage.

“Oh…” the redhead looked disappointed. Or were you imagining things? “She’s obsessed with joining the cheerleading squad, and you being the President…”

“I’m not, anymore” you blurted out, surprising even yourself. “I mean, I’m still on the team… but I thought Pepper would do a better job” 

“But they won the Nationals last year because of you” Natasha protested, and you were taken aback by her sudden rage. “There’s no one better than you”

“That’s really sweet, Nat” you placed your hand on hers. “But it’s for the best. Trust me. I’ll have more time to focus on the school paper or… I don’t know, dating?”

“I guess you could do that…” Natasha said, looking at your hands. For the second time in the day, your eyes found hers and then traveled to those beautiful lips.

“Y/N!” 

Bucky shouted from the door. Damn it.

“My ride’s here” you said, disappointed. Natasha nodded, standing up and offering her hand to help you up. You took it, surprised at her strength. 

A gasp left your lips when you were face to face, inches away from her lips. All you had to do was step forward and stand on your toes…

“Y/N/N” Bucky insisted and you had to control the urge to tell him to go to hell.

“Sorry. I have enough notes to write something. Can I text you once it’s done?”

“Sure, let me give you my number”

“I already have it…” you blurted out, trying to hide your face.

“How?”

Now, this time you were grateful for Bucky’s insistence. 

“Coming, Buck! See you later?” 

“Yeah. I’ll walk you out” 

You nodded, allowing Natasha to lead you to the front door. Her father, coach Romanoff, was chatting with Bucky at the door.

“Good practice today” Alexei said and Bucky nodded.

“Thanks, coach” he then turned to you, offering his hand to get your bag. “Ready to go, doll?”

“Yeah. Thanks for having me, Nat. Say bye to your mom and Yelena for me?” 

“Sure”

An uncomfortable feeling took over Natasha as you walked next to Bucky, watching him take your bag and carry it for you. You laughed at something he said while he opened the car door for you and then drove away.

“They make a cute couple, don’t they?” Alexei said, but Natasha shrugged her shoulders and went back to her room, almost knocking Melina over on the way up the stairs. “Did I say something wrong?”

—

Natasha felt weird doing it, but she couldn’t help herself. 

She only opened an Instagram account to watch cool science videos. But she knew your username because Yelena followed you and now, she was acting like a creep, looking at your profile.

In search of what? She wasn’t sure. Maybe proof that you were dating Barnes.

“Hey” Yelena walked into her room and Natasha dropped her phone. “Ew, were you watching porn?”

“What? No! What do you want?” Natasha said, the blush in her cheeks only making her seem guilty.

“Well, just wanted to ask you if Y/N mentioned anything about this year’s tryouts?”

“No, we didn’t really talk about… that”

Natasha didn’t mention the conversation you had about stepping down as president. She had a feeling that was private.

“Ok, go back to watching porn” Yelena said, closing the door before Natasha could throw a pillow her way.

Then, her phone pinged and Natasha looked at it as if it was a cursed object. 

Unknown number: Hey, Nat. I have a draft ready. Lmk if I can send it to you

Natasha: Hi. Sure thing, I’m not doing anything

Damn it, way to be a loser, Natasha. 

She didn’t even wait a few minutes to reply.

Y/N: Ok, should be on your email now.

Natasha: Thnx, reading now.

Y/N: Gotta get ready for dinner. It was nice seeing you today.

Y/N: Outside of school, I mean.

Y/N: So… yeah. Anyway. I’m being weird, haha. Talk soon. 

Y/N: XO

Natasha’s heartbeat sped up with every new text. She caught herself reading them over and over again.

She didn’t have time to worry about what to reply, because her mother came knocking.

“Dinner’s ready. You can take your time… Yelena told me you were busy.”

“Oh, my GOD!” Natasha jumped out of bed, opening the door. “I am not… watching porn!”

“She said you were stalking Y/N’s instagram” Melina said, turning to find her youngest daughter holding a laugh.

“сука” Natasha screamed, running after her.

“Papa, help!” Yelena screeched, going down the stairs. 

“Language! And no running inside the house!” 

Melina sighed. With the way Natasha was looking at you today, she had a feeling that parenting was going to be even more complicated now.

--

Throughout the week, you never left Natasha’s mind. It was a strange feeling. She’d never dwelled on social interactions that much, thinking it wasn’t worth her time. 

But still, when Friday came, she was excited because you shared English class as well. 

And there you were, leaning against the door, speaking to Barnes. Again. Natasha sighed, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in her stomach at the way you laughed with him, smacking his arm playfully.

As usual, the redhead kept her head down and went to the last table of the classroom, where she could be left alone. Only, you walked straight to her as soon as Professor Harkness started the lesson.

“Hey” you greeted, sitting next to Natasha. 

“H-hi”

“Sorry, do you want me to find another place to sit?” you said, looking around the room. 

“No!” Natasha practically shouted, making you flinch. “I’m sorry. No, you can sit here”

You nodded, occupying the chair next to hers. It was going to be a slow day, as Ms. Harkness set up the projector to show a documentary about Patricia Highsmith. 

“You have to write a report about this so pay attention” the professor said, taking a seat to start the film.

While the documentary played, your mind kept drifting back to Natasha, sitting a few inches away from you. Truth be told, you had always found her to be beautiful, intriguing… but after spending an afternoon with her, those moments when you touched hands or locked eyes, kept replaying in your head. 

Instead of taking notes, you decided to execute a plan that was saved for the next Chemistry lesson. Drawing on a sheet of paper, you created a game of hangman, double checking the number of letters for each of the three words. 

Without looking at Natasha, you pushed the sheet her way. She looked at it for a second too long, and then at you. You were beginning to regret the whole thing, and then she underlined the letter T. You smiled, writing on the designated place.

Natasha took her time analyzing the sheet, but by the time the lesson was over, she had guessed some of the letters.

_o_i_   o_   _ _ tur _ _ y ?

The bell rang, and as the lights were turned back on, you looked at her, smiling nervously. 

“So… want me to tell you what it says? Or, you can take the sheet and text me if you figure it out?” 

God, you sounded so desperate. No wonder Natasha looked at you as if you had grown a second head. 

“I’ll take it” she smiled, placing it between her notebook and walking out.

“Actually, Nat…” you went after her. Why not just ask straight away and see what happened?

“Yes?” she said, turning to look at you. Truth be told, she was anxious to get out. Your proximity had distracted her during the entire class. And it only got worse when you slid that sheet her way, and she saw the way you were biting your lip nervously.

She had to force herself to look away from your lips. 

“I was thinking, if you’re not too busy…”

“Go on a date with me”

You were both taken aback by the interruption. The words were stolen right out of your mouth by a junior student, Peter Parker. He was staring at Natasha excitedly. 

“Never mind” you grumbled, rolling your eyes and walking away. 

Natasha flashed an angry glare at Peter, but you were walking down the hallway at record speed.

“What is wrong with you?” Natasha said. Peter was a year younger, but knew the redhead from science club. 

“Sorry, it’s just that I… those were the words that came out of my mouth to ask MJ out. MJ! And she said yes!”

“Yeah, start with that next time” 

Natasha spotted you across the hall, talking to Thor. Of course. 

“I have to go” Natasha pushed the boy aside.

She was so distracted, she never noticed where she was going until she opened the door to the computer room, where Barnes was making out with another senior, Sharon Carter. 

“Knock, damn it” Barnes said, but Sharon smacked his arm, looking stern.

“Don’t be a dick, James”

Natasha wanted to call Barnes a lot more than a dick, because who on their right mind would cheat on you? She stared at him a second longer, too angry to even speak, and then turned around, shutting the door behind her. 

You deserved so much better than Barnes. 

—

Y/N: Were you able to figure it out?

Natasha kept staring at her phone. She hadn’t replied to your message since yesterday and the longer she waited, the worse she felt.

Should she tell you about Barnes? Would you believe her? Or would you call her the worst name in the book and refuse to be in the same class as her? 

The girl was pacing around in her room, but of course Yelena chose that moment to play her music at full volume. Natasha let out an exasperated sigh, going to her sister’s room.

“Turn it down!” she yelled from outside, knocking several times to get Yelena’s attention. “Yelena? Your music is too damn…” let the record show she had tried to knock. Natasha walked into Yelena’s room without permission, ready to get into a screaming match with her sister. What she didn’t expect was to see you sitting on her bed, while Yelena showed you different things on her closet.

“I told you it was very loud, Yel” you said, smiling at the girl and then at Natasha, who took a step forward to shut the music down. “Hey, sorry about the noise”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to come in, sestra” Yelena said, examining a t-shirt and her favorite vest. She turned to you. “What about this?” 

“Yeah, that’s better. And hair braided, don’t forget that. Pepper and all the other girls love braids. I think the ones Natasha wears sometimes are really… uh, pretty”

You didn’t mean to sound like a creep, but of course you had noticed Natasha’s fiery hair braided from time to time. 

“So, since you’re standing there and made me turn off my music” Yelena turned to her sister, showing the outfit. “What do you think? Tryouts are on Monday and Y/N is helping me pick an outfit”

“That one’s nice” Natasha nodded, trying to avoid your stare. She thought she had today and tomorrow to figure out what to do over Barnes. But what if you came to talk to her and she just blurted the whole thing out?

So, she excused herself and thought it would be better to hide in her room. Peace didn’t last long, though.

“Knock!” Natasha grumbled when her sister got in. 

“Hey, you didn’t knock either just now. I wanted to ask if you got the tickets for the movie”

“Yes, of course I did”

“Good. I can’t go with you, so you should take Y/N”

“Wait, what?” Natasha hissed, trying to not lose it at Yelena’s ridiculous antics. “You can’t just cancel like that and she probably doesn’t even want to…”

“Ask her” 

“What?”

“Ask her. Or if you’re too afraid, I can do it for you. But honestly, Natalia. Just do it. You’re both driving me crazy”

Natasha didn’t know what Yelena meant by that, so she just rolled her eyes and sighed.

“I’ll ask her, I don’t want it to seem like my little sister has to arrange my outings”

“Fine. I’m getting some water, you should do it now. Don’t pass out” Yelena winked, knowing her sister could barely handle social interactions.

 Natasha felt her heartbeat strong in her chest, but didn’t wait too long before going back to Yelena’s room. She knew her sister meant it and would absolutely ask you out on Nat’s behalf.

“Hey, Y/N” she walked into the room, door ajar.

“Hey. What’s up? Want to try on outfits with us?” you joked. In spite of her nerves, Natasha smiled.

“I wanted to ask if you wanna go to the movies”

“Really?” you smiled. “What time?”

“It starts in an hour so… we can leave in thirty minutes if it works for you”

“Yeah. Awesome”

You didn’t think about asking which movie or anything else really. The fact Natasha had asked you was all you cared about. The redhead left the room once her sister came back, trying to hide her anxiety. Yelena gave her a knowing look, and kept chatting with you but wasn’t surprised to find you smiling out of nowhere, distracted and constantly checking your watch.

Once it was time to go, Natasha waited downstairs to drive you both to the movies. The ride there was quiet at first, until you reached out for the radio.

“Very cool” you praised when OK Go came on. “Their best music video is for I won’t let you down”

“What? No way! This too shall pass. That Rube Goldberg machine was insane”

“But what about all the extras and the umbrellas? Imagine the coordination it took. I tried to talk the girls into doing it for Nationals but they said I was insane”

Natasha laughed at that, humming along to the song, feeling more relaxed. You also smiled, and enjoyed watching her drive. She looked hot as she held the wheel. 

As you were arriving to the theater, you mentioned Barnes and how he always forgot to get the tickets and once again, Natasha’s anxiety came back. 

She was quiet as she parked and you both exited the car. 

“Wait. I’m sorry. I can’t do this” 

“Do what? What’s wrong?” you looked at her, searching her eyes. 

“Please don’t hate me” she pleaded.

“Natty, I could never” you shook your head, the term of endearment almost leaving Nat out of breath. 

“I saw… Barnes and Sharon Carter kissing in the computer room. I’m sorry”

“Ew. Yeah, they tend to do that anywhere they can. I’m the one who’s sorry you had to see it” you laughed, but the sound died down when Natasha looked at you as if you had grown a second head.

“Aren’t you dating Barnes?” she said, trying to understand everything.

“What? Gross. He’s like my other brother. Slightly less annoying than Steve, that’s for sure” 

“You’re serious?” Natasha said, feeling as if a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“I’m very serious and very much single… waiting for a pretty girl to come sweep me off my feet” you said, smiling as Natasha blushed. You took her hand, going inside the theater. “Come on, the movie is starting soon”

You waited in line for the candy store, her hand still in yours. Once it was time to get your stuff, you stood behind her, looking over her shoulder by standing on your toes. Natasha blushed at the contact, your chin resting against her shoulder while you asked the clerk for some chocolate.

“Let me” Natasha said, paying before you could give the man money. 

“Chivalry isn’t dead” you said, enjoying how much she was blushing. You smiled, helping her with the soda and finally going inside the room. 

“So, what are we watching?”

“It’s this new zombie movie, like found footage”

“Oh, cool” you muttered, feeling the palms of your hands get sweaty. 

“Sorry, I didn’t even ask if you were ok with that”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just a bit of a chicken” you laughed, settling in your seat. You hoped Natasha didn’t think you were lame and as the movie started, you really did try to be brave. And then a zombie came jumping through a window and you hid your face behind your hands. 

“Hey, it’s ok” Natasha took your hand. “We can leave if you want to” 

“No, I’m fine” you said, forgetting about the movie as soon as her hand let go of yours, arm going around your shoulders to comfort you. 

No way were you leaving now.

You leaned against her chest, hiding when something scary was about to happen. Natasha held you close, her hand going up and down your back in a soothing manner. 

Who knew all it took was some scary zombies to get close to her…

The movie didn’t last as long as you’d have liked, but still, you were happy when she kept holding on to your hand as you left the cinema.

“That was fun” you commented and Natasha let out a laugh. “What?”

“You were hiding half the movie”

“Maybe I liked that part the most” you challenged, pleased when she blushed again. “But next time, we’re watching a rom com or a sci-fi movie.”

“I’d like that” Natasha said and you were looking at her lips when your phone rang. “Want a ride home?”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“It’s not a problem. Come on” she walked next to you, opening the car door. 

“What else do you listen to?” you played with the radio, going from A-Punk, to Keane and Travis. “Really good taste”

“What about you?”

“Anything really. I have like 45 playlists that are completely random. I could send you one if you’d like” 

“Yeah, I’d like that” Natasha nodded. You smiled, enjoying the view (and by view you meant Natasha, her fingers tapping against the wheel) for the rest of the ride. 

Once you got home, she opened the car door for you again. You didn’t move from your spot next to her, enjoying the proximity.

“Nat?”

“Yes?”

“I like you” you said without a warning, and it was hard to tell who was more embarrassed, you or Nat. “I’m sorry for being so forward but I think I needed you to know. I’m thinking about kissing you and holding your hand and…”

For the first time in her life, Natasha did something without thinking. She pulled you by the waist, connecting her lips to yours. You groaned in surprise, but sighed against her mouth a second later. Your hands went up her neck, to keep her close to you as you moved your lips against hers.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself”

“Never apologize for doing that” you smiled, leaning your forehead against her shoulder. Natasha smiled, kissing your temple. “Are you good to drive?”

“Yeah” she nodded.

“Ok. I don’t want you to do it if you’re distracted or something. It could be dangerous, you know?” you rambled and Natasha saw genuine concern behind your words.

“I’ll text you when I’m home, how about that?”

“Yes, please” you sighed with relief. “Be careful. And thank you for today” without being able to help yourself, you stood on your toes and pecked her lips one more time.

Natasha got in the car, smiling as she drove back home. True to her promise, she texted you as soon as she arrived. 

She was expecting Yelena to greet her with a million questions, but the girl was back in her room, still listening to music.

Going back to her own room, she found the game of hangman you had done for her, now complete with Yelena’s handwriting.

Natasha was really clueless.

Movie on Saturday?

This whole time, you were asking her out. Natasha took a picture of the paper and sent it to her sister.

Nat: You went through my stuff.

Sestra: Ur welcome.

Natasha would never hear the end of it. Her phone pinged again.

Y/N: Glad you’re home safe. 

Y/N: Still thinking about that kiss.

Y/N: So… yeah. When’s our second date?

Coming to think of it, she was happy to pay that price. 

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 

You have made him whole. 

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 

When you pull away, he whines. 

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[eddiernunson]

I Can Do it With a Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW

NOW POSTED

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Excerpt here:

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be this gorgeous, it’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.” 

He dusts the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.” 

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?” 

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.” 

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.” 

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to class its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will. 

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?” 

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?” 

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tilted floors and fall into the depths of hell. 

“She asked you out?” 

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!” 

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per say. But a sweet girl like Chrissy, one that bore pretty blonde curls, a sweet smile and a sweet disposition, this is like your worst nightmare come true. 

Thanks to the notion of living in a small town, you could recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out. 

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing. 

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, watching in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.” 

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?”

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.” 

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this isn’t a new habit of his. 

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?” 

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you tried to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing. 

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what is probably another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed. 

You smoked more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself. 

-

Final word count is about 24k so I think I'll post on the 15 to give my editor a fighting chance. If you want to be tagged let me know <3

[fuctacles]

bonding activity

For @steddie-spooktober prompt "can you please stop trying to scare them?" | 1427 | T | getting together, fluff, post-canon | brainstormed with @blasvemous | Ao3 | ko-fi

more spooktober: witch

"Steve."

Steve doesn't react. He's standing by the dirtiest window Eddie's ever seen, peeking from behind a curtain to see the groups entering the house. 

"Steve!" Eddie hisses insistently.

"What?!" Steve snaps back. 

Eddie widens his eyes at him. 

"We should get into positions," he reminds his friend as if they haven't been doing this for over a week now. 

"Mhm," Steve nods absentmindedly, eyes back on the outside. "You do that."

"Are you waiting for Henderson again?"

"Maybe."

Eddie groans, stepping back towards him. They have about ten minutes before the next group walks in, even more before they get to this part of the haunted house.

"Could you please stop trying to scare him? This house is the same every year, and this kid fought Demogorgons, why do you care about stupid fair attraction?" he presses, crossing his arms. 

"It's kind of my duty as an older brother," Steve points out, sparing him a short glance. "Besides, his attitude has been insufferable lately. Gotta teach him a lesson."

That, Eddie could agree with. Henderson has been a little shit about their current gig, talking all cocky about how it was 'entertainment for little kids' and they wouldn't have to do much. Eddie took scaring kids very seriously, thank you very much. 

He was also grateful for the scheme Steve and Robin had pulled to get him the job. It was a small thing, but enough to start getting on the good side with the residents of Hawkins. And also a good way to spend time with Steve, his new and unlikely friend. Eddie reminds him of that, too.

"We were supposed to be bonding," he pouts.

"We'll be bonding after I make Dustin pee his pants," Steve responds shortly, making Eddie scoff. But seeing how unwavering Steve is in his plan, he sighs and steps right into his personal space.

"Promise?" he asks, jabbing a finger into his ribs. 

Steve jolts, but it has the desired effect of getting his attention back on Eddie. He grabs his hand to push it safely away from his body, his eyes finally focusing on his friend and softening. 

"Yeah, man, I promise."

"Great. Because I actually like it here, which I didn't think I'd say about a legal job." Steve snorts softly. "I guess it's fun to work with a friend."

"Yeah," Steve finally smiles fully. "It is."

"And I know you'd rather be doing it with Buckley, but—"

Steve cuts him off with a shake of his head. 

"Don't be stupid dude, even the bestest of friends need some time apart. And it's a blast working with you. The way you made that dude cry yesterday? Fucking priceless." He grins. 

Eddie grins back. 

"Yeah, love how he grabbed onto his wife."

They burst into snickers until a girl rushes past them, reminding them to get into positions. Eddie salutes, and parts with his dear friend. 

"Please think about me fondly. I will miss you dearly," he sighs deeply, caressing Steve's bicep. 

Steve plays along, reciprocating his longing gaze.

"I am missing you already, darling," he says, pressing a phantom of a kiss onto his hand. 

Eddie snickers and skitters away towards his post. For the sake of the job and his sanity. 

Eddie's determined to keep Steve's attention on himself instead of people-watching. Maybe constantly bothering him isn't the best course of action but stick to what you know, right?

"You're putting a damper on my fun, Harrington," he says behind Steve's shoulder as he's eyeing the outside. 

"I know. I'm sorry." And he sounds genuinely regretful. Like his resolve is slowly falling apart, the point of childish games with his brother slowly getting forgotten. 

"You know, you would scare him if you'd just put effort into all of the groups . Keep it at one hundred and you won't miss."

"Yeah, but that's tiring," Steve whines. 

Eddie rolls his eyes. 

"Oh my god, you're such a princess," he mutters. 

"I'm not." Steve frowns, offended.

"Yes, you are." 

Steve already knows there is no point in arguing with Eddie, so he only glares his way. It's not a huge win, but at least he's not looking out the window. Eddie pushes toward victory. 

"And you could be having fun, too, if you weren't so focused on Henderson. I, for one, take pride and joy in my craft of making kids pee their pants," he says with reverence, hand pressed to his chest. 

Steve raises his eyebrows. 

"Yeah, and how many times have you managed that?"

"Zero, but I'm still enjoying myself! And I made one girl faint!"

Steve snorts. 

"Yeah, you'd be proud of that."

"Well, not all of us can do that without the help of a horror setting." Eddie rolls his eyes. "Which, you could be using to your advantage too," he points out, capturing Steve's attention enough to maneuver him away from the window. "You scare a girl, then you take her to a quiet corner to calm her down, a perfect crime!" he throws his arms up but upon seeing Steve's frown, he backtracks. 

"Well, not a crime, of course, but a little, uh, harmless mischief," he amends with an innocent smile. 

Steve's shoulders sag as he sighs.

"Yeah, that was kind of my whole point of doing this. But it's harder than I thought," he says with a wince. 

"Since when?" Eddie frowns in confusion. "I mean, yeah, your game has been off, but you always went for it anyway. Which, I respect as fuck by the way. I could never." He lets out a small, humorless laugh. 

The room falls silent and when he looks up again, Steve is looking straight at him.

"You should try."

"Yeah, probably," he shrugs, but Steve remains unfazed. 

"I'm serious. Go for it." 

They engage in some serious staring competition that makes Eddie squirm, his whole skin itching. 

"Dude, what are you—"

"Have we not been flirting this whole time?" 

Eddie blinks. 

"Uh."

"I wanted this job so we could be alone for once."

"Uh."

"And I'm sorry for getting distracted with the Dustin thing, but I'm back on track now." Finally, his confidence wavers. "That is, if we're on the same one, you know. I might have completely misread the situation."

Eddie shakes his head. 

"No, no. I was, uh, same track, page, yeah," he pulls a strand of hair over his reddening cheeks, but none of them moves. 

"Sooo, are you going to, or am I supposed to—"

"Oh, what the Hell," Eddie mutters, grabbing onto Steve's shirt to pull him forward. He places a lightly off-center kiss on his lips and can feel the body under his palms sagging with relief. 

Steve hums softly. 

"And you said my game was off," he mutters against his lips. 

"Oh, you little shit." Eddie smirks dangerously before he presses in without his previous hesitance. If Steve wants to play, Eddie's good at making up his own rules. 

They find a wall to rest against, and Steve's hand has just ventured to Eddie's ass when an ear-piercing shriek makes them jump apart. 

"What! The fuck!" They can hear Dustin's voice, but he's trying to blind them with his flashlight, so his face stays hidden until the rest of the gang joins him. Someone's light shows his pale, shell-shocked expression. 

"Why are you molesting my brother?!" He points accusingly at Eddie. "And you!" He turns to Steve, still braced against the wall. "You were groping my DM!"

Steve rolls his eyes. 

"Please, I barely touched him," he scoffs. 

"Yeah." Eddie crosses his arms to show his disappointment. "Because you so rudely interrupted."

"Ew! Ew ew ew ew ew!" Dustin covers his ears and moves forward, almost running into a wall in his haste to escape. The rest of The Party follows, though much calmer. Lucas even stalls behind to give the two older boys a thumbs up. 

"Congrats." He grins before disappearing after his friends. 

"Well..." Eddie trails off once the sound of distressed Dustin fades away. "I'd say we scared him pretty well, so, mission accomplished?" He smiles, throwing finger guns to sell his point better. 

"Two missions, even." Steve smiles back, motioning him to come back closer. 

"Two birds, one stone. Very time-saving of us." Eddie happily returns to his place in the other's orbit, which also means his ass is reachable again.

"We could go for two birds one hand later?" Steve offers, but all it does is make Eddie laugh loudly. 

"Holy shit, you truly have no game, Harrington! You're lucky I dig it." 

[after-the-end-times]

Is it Christmas Magic or is it Love?

For @steddieholidaydrabbles Prompt: Hot Chocolate ☕ Rating: G ☕Words: 1000 ☕ cw: none ☕ Tags: Getting Together, single dad Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Sometimes just having someone help feels like magic, Eddie hears what Steve's really saying and does something about it Ao3

Steve pushed rewind on the vhs player and sat back down on the couch, the blue of the tv screen lighting up the room and the sounds of Eddie and Robin shuffling around coming from the speaker of the phone Steve had pulled to the couch.

“You know, I kinda wish Santa and all that Christmas magic stuff was really real.” Steve said wistfully, thinking about how much easier Christmas would be if he didn’t have to be in charge of every single aspect of creating Christmas memories for his daughter.

“Um, what? You don’t think that’d be pretty creepy in real life?” Robin asks skeptically. They, and Eddie, had just finished their monthly movie night via speakerphone, Christmas themed since it was December, and Steve thought it’d actually be pretty handy if some nice old guy in town really was secretly Santa. Except,

“Ok, maybe you have a point about the whole ‘always knowing what you’re doing’ or ‘sneaking into houses in the dead of night’ thing being creepy.” He glances over at the boxes with the tree and decorations that still needed to be put up at some point. “Still. Would be nice.”

“What’d be nice?” Eddie asks.

He sounds like he’s honestly wondering, so Steve takes a moment to try to explain it.

“I suppose...it’d be nice to have the help, you know? If “Santa” could just take something off my plate so I wouldn’t have to do everything? Like, I would love if Santa could actually just magically know what Annabelle wants even after she changes her mind fifty times and then just poof! magic it here.”

He pauses, trying to articulate this other feeling he gets on Christmas morning, without sounding too woe is me. “Also, sometimes- Ugh! Nevermind.”

He tips over on the couch, pressing his palms to he eyes.

“No, what is it?” Eddie asks, his voice gentle in the silence of Steve’s living room.

“So, I guess...you know, it’s not like I got all those Christmasy traditions for very long when I was a kid, right? I mean, we did stuff, but it wasn’t, you know, just us, doing little things throughout the month, watching movies, going skating, making popcorn garland, and all that, right? And I love doing all those things for and with Belle, I really do! But, also,” He hesitates a moment, because this feels too vulnerable. But it’s just Robin and Eddie, so, “I want that? To feel that wonder and magic she feels.”

“Steve”

Oh no, that was Robin’s concerned voice.

“You know what? I think I’m just being mopey. ‘Tis the season, right? So, just ignore me. I’m the parent, so it’s my job to create magical moments, not- Anyway! When are you guys getting to town?”

🎄🎄🎄

Robin couldn’t get work off until the week of Christmas, but Eddie’s book tour was suddenly redirected, so he was staying with Wayne for most of December. Steve was excited to have him in town, but also assumed Eddie would still be too busy to do much with him and Belle. Steve knows his friends love his kid, but he also knows that not everyone wants to hang out with a 6yo running amok, hanging off him, or trying to run off with strangers at the mall play place.

But oh, how wrong he was.

The moment Eddie got into town, he called to ask if Steve and Belle were free. Which, they were, so Eddie came right over to hang out while Steve did kid laundry. He took one look at the boxes in the living room and asked Belle if she wanted to help put up the tree and decorate the house. By the end of his visit, the whole house felt like Christmas. The tree lit up the room with glowing light, showing off six years of kid ornaments, and now, after an hour of crafting, a handful of Steve, Belle, and Eddie ornaments.

A few days later, Steve was at work when Eddie showed up bringing him a large hot chocolate and, somehow, leaving with Steve’s shopping list of gifts. He’s honestly still not sure how it happened, but either way Steve definitely didn’t expect to get home after school pickup to find Eddie at home working on dinner, and bags of gifts tucked away in Steve’s bedroom.

The next weekend, Steve had planned on taking Belle to see Santa at the mall, but the entire day had gone wrong. And Steve just could not imagine standing in an hour long line with a squiggly 6yo, even if it’s the only day that works if he wants to include the photos with their Christmas cards.

Just as he’s seriously thinking of calling it, there’s a knock at the door. Eddie had finished that day’s book signing at a local bookstore and driven by to see if he could catch them before they headed out. Somehow, just having Eddie there made going to the mall seem not too bad.

The line was just as long as Steve feared, but he and Eddie took turns walking Belle around while the other held their spot in line, so it really wasn’t too bad. Steve was getting close to the front when he saw Eddie and Belle coming through the crowd; She was holding Eddie’s hand, looking very serious about whatever she was saying, Eddie slightly bent over so he could hear her, and Steve felt his breath catch in his throat and his eyes suddenly stung with emotion. Oh.

Steve pulls Eddie in to join them for their family photo with Santa.

Driving home, Eddie detours around the neighborhood, slowing down at brightly decorated houses to ooh and ahh with Belle, pointing out snowmen and Santas and reindeer.

Steve looks at him and reaches a hand over. This is what he wants, what he’s been missing. Not some Christmas magic that suddenly fixes everything for him, but this, him. Smiling over at Steve, Eddie links their hands.