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tragicallybeautiful97 · 5 months ago

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Just For Summer - Steve Harrington x Reader

Steve Harrington x reader. Camp Counsellors AU. `lovers x enemies x lovers again. Pining, so much pining. Sexual tension. Stranger Things AU. Multi-chapter story. Eventual smut.

word count: 2,055

Chapter One

Camp Lake Haven was one of my favourite places in the whole world.

It was the first time that summer that I had felt excited. I had been cooped up the first week of summer - all my friends had gone on holiday with their families and I was left at home, forced to hear my parents fighting until the early hours of the night. My baby brother Will had managed to sleep through it, he always had the gift of sleeping like a baby, even now at the age of fourteen when most teenage boys laid awake like bats.

It had been the best summer of my life - afternoons spent swimming in the lake, evenings huddled around the campfire making s'mores and listening to the camp counsellors' scary stories. Camp Lake Haven really was a haven, a haven where I could forget everything and just spend time being a teenager. A teenager whose biggest worry was who to sit by in the Mess Hall, what swimming costume to wear to the lake - not about her parents impending divorce.

I loved Camp Lake Haven.

It was that love that ensured that I signed up to Camp Lake Haven even as an adult - as a counsellor rather than camper for the first time. More specifically this year I had gotten the job of camp nurse. I had just finished a gruelling degree in paediatric nursing and despite having a job offer in the city; I had decided to spend one last summer in Camp Lake Haven.

A final goodbye.

I walked through the crickerty wooden gate; the familiar sense of excitement running through me as I glanced at the faded Camp Lake Haven sign. Even at twenty four years old I still had the urge to run directly into the lake that was peeking through the trees towards the end of the camp.

I clutched at my rucksack as I made my way towards Cabin 11. I had been assigned it through email when I had signed up as the camp nurse. It was further back than the other cabins, probably to give the counsellors some privacy away from the prying eyes of the children.

“Is that Y/N I see? Back from the big city?” A voice squeals from behind me.

I turned around with a smile pulling at my lips; I would recognise that voice anywhere.

Robin comes hurtling towards me, various bags wrapped around her outstretched arms. She crashes into me, her arms wrapping tightly around my shoulders as I narrowly avoid a cool box to the face. I hug her back tightly, laughing as she spins us both around.

I had met Robin in my second year of Camp Lake Haven. We had become fast friends in a game of capture the flag. Both of us had been on our periods and wildly fighting off cramps. We had been in opposing teams and had stumbled across each other as we stomped angrily around the woods looking for that godforsaken flag.

“This is so stupid.” Robin had grumbled when she had seen you, wrenching her green team bib over her head.

I had huffed in agreement, taking my red bib off and tossing it to the floor angrily.

“Wanna raid the mess hall and see if we can find some ice cream?” I had suggested.

The rest was history.

“Please tell me you are staying in cabin eleven too? I emailed Hopper to request he put us together.” Robin pouted pleadingly when we finally detached.

“Aw I emailed him too!” I confessed. “Looks like the grump listened because I’m in cabin eleven thank god.”

Hopper was the head camp counsellor at Camp Lake Haven. He was a large burly man who was a man of few words, in fact the most you normally got out of him was grunt and grimaces. However his heart was in the right place, he loved the camp and the kids who came every year, and he was kind enough to give you the role of Camp Nurse despite applying a week late.

Robin led the way into the cabin, easy chatter falling between us. We grabbed the bunk closest to the window and I grabbed the top bunk by swinging my bag onto the mattress with some effort. Robin quickly claimed the bottom bed - it was an arrangement that worked every summer, Robin claimed that her fear of heights even included the top bunk.

“Did Nancy sign up this summer too?” I asked as I took a seat on Robin’s bed as she unpacked. She always unpacked while I was more of a ‘live out of your bag and hope for the best’ girl.

Robin froze slightly, her fingers tightening on her white t-shirt that had ‘STAFF’ written in bold red letters. Robin looked at you over her shoulder, her shaggy long hair falling over her eyes slightly.

“She did…” She trailed off uncomfortably, “But I wish she hadn’t.”

My brow furrowed in confusion before I noticed Robin was blinking rapidly to keep her tears at bay.

“Oh Robin, not again;” I sighed heavily, “What the hell happened, last time I facetimed you things were great between you both.”

Robin started flinging her clothes aggressively into the shared dresser beside the bunk beds, “We were fighting all the time…and she started to hang out with her ex, and I know they are just friends but it made me jealous and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“I’m so sorry Robin.” I apologised softly.

Robin sighed and stopped cramming her swimming costumes into the top drawer so she could fling herself onto the bed next to me, “Not as sorry as I was when I saw they had both signed up for camp this year.”

“Wait…both of them?”

“Yeah, her and fucking Steve the hair Harrington.”

My heart dropped at her words. I groaned myself, dread running through my veins as I buried my head in my hands.

“Please tell me you did not just say Steve fucking Harrington.”

“Oh shit, sorry girl I completely forg-”

Robin stopped talking as the door to cabin eleven swung open.

Talk about cosmic timing…

Steve Harrington was striding through the door, a duffel bag hanging from his shoulder and a worn copy of Bernard Cornwell’s novel Sharpe. I knew it was that book because he read it every summer, ever since he was twelve. He was mid-laughter, his head hanging back and a devastatingly boyish smile on his lips.

My heart betrayed me by accelerating, my skin thrumming as I listened to the beautiful sound. Steve had always had a great laugh, it was one of the first things I had noticed about him all those years ago, seven years ago to be precise. He had filled out over the years, muscles straining under his weathered vintage t-shirt as he readjusted his bag further up his arms.

Robin froze beside me and I reluctantly tore my eyes away from Steve Harrington to see what was causing his raucous laughter. Nancy was walking behind him, dressed in a soft pink cardigan and flared jeans. Her hair had been curled to perfection and her lips shined with what I assumed was cherry lipgloss.

“I swear to god it happened.” Nancy giggled ruefully before she came steaming to a holt, her eyes wide and she realised Robin and I were in the cabin staring back at them.

Steve followed Nancy’s gaze, his eyes taking in the scene before him. His eyes flickered to Robin before they made their way over to me. His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as he seemed to take a sharp inhale of breath. I immediately looked elsewhere, choosing to focus on the battered spine of his book instead of the mole that nestled in the corner of his lip.

That used to be my favourite place to kiss.

“Hi Y/N,” Nancy greeted hesitantly, her body almost curling in on herself with how uncomfortable she apparently was, “Hi Robin.” her voice cracked slightly at Robin’s name.

“Hi Nancy.” I greeted quietly as Robin nodded mutely beside me.

Steve opened his mouth, his dark eyes earnest. He went to take a step forward and then seemed to collect himself. He rolled back on his heels, clearing his throat before a smirk took over his face.

“Robin.” He nodded his greeting before his eyes zeroed in on me, “and Y/N…” he sniggered, “Wow they must really be scraping the barrel for camp counsellors this year.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Clearly, I wouldn’t let you or your stupid hair near my kids with a bargepole.”

Steve had the nerve to look offended. His hair had always been long, however this year the soft brown strands coiled around his jaw in a fashionable mullet style. I knew his hair was soft, I had borrowed his shampoo the first year I had known him…and I’d made a habit of running my hands through it every chance I got.

“If I recall correctly, you always liked it long Firecrack-.” He practically spat the nickname.

“Don’t call me that.” I warned heatedly, taking a step forward.

Steve cocked his head, his lips pouting mockingly, “Your fault for having red hair Firecracker.”

Camp Lake Haven was one of my favourite places in the whole world.

I first got sent to Camp Lake Haven when I fourteen years old - I remember feeling like I was in a vintage horror film; like Friday the Thirteenth, with the various wooden cabins, the thick canopy of trees swishing in the wind and the sound of childish screams and splashes from the lake. It was the first time that summer that I had felt excited. I had been cooped up the first week of summer - all my friends had gone on holiday with their families and I was left at home, forced to hear my parents fighting until the early hours of the night. My baby brother Max had managed to sleep through it, he always had the gift of sleeping like a baby, even now at the age of fourteen when most teenage boys laid awake like bats.

I loved Camp Lake Haven.

A final goodbye.

“Is that Y/N I see? Back from the big city?” A voice squeals from behind me.

I turned around with a smile pulling at my lips; I would recognise that voice anywhere.

“This is so stupid.” Robin had grumbled when she had seen you, wrenching her green team bib over her head.

I had huffed in agreement, taking my red bib off and tossing it to the floor angrily.

“Wanna raid the mess hall and see if we can find some ice cream?” I had suggested.

The rest was history.

“Please tell me you are staying in cabin eleven too? I emailed Hopper to request he put us together.” Robin pouted pleadingly when we finally detached.

“Aw I emailed him too!” I confessed. “Looks like the grump listened because I’m in cabin eleven thank god.”

“Did Nancy sign up this summer too?” I asked as I took a seat on Robin’s bed as she unpacked. She always unpacked while I was more of a ‘live out of your bag and hope for the best’ girl.

“She did…” She trailed off uncomfortably, “But I wish she hadn’t.”

My brow furrowed in confusion before I noticed Robin was blinking rapidly to keep her tears at bay.

“Oh Robin, not again;” I sighed heavily, “What the hell happened, last time I facetimed you things were great between you both.”

“I’m so sorry Robin.” I apologised softly.

“Wait…both of them?”

“Yeah, her and fucking Steve the hair Harrington.”

My heart dropped at her words. I groaned myself, dread running through my veins as I buried my head in my hands.

“Please tell me you did not just say Steve fucking Harrington.”

“Oh shit, sorry girl I completely forg-”

Robin stopped talking as the door to cabin eleven swung open.

Talk about cosmic timing…

“I swear to god it happened.” Nancy giggled ruefully before she came steaming to a holt, her eyes wide and she realised Robin and I were in the cabin staring back at them.

That used to be my favourite place to kiss.

“Hi Y/N,” Nancy greeted hesitantly, her body almost curling in on herself with how uncomfortable she apparently was, “Hi Robin.” her voice cracked slightly at Robin’s name.

“Hi Nancy.” I greeted quietly as Robin nodded mutely beside me.

Steve opened his mouth, his dark eyes earnest. He went to take a step forward and then seemed to collect himself. He rolled back on his heels, clearing his throat before a smirk took over his face.

“Robin.” He nodded his greeting before his eyes zeroed in on me, “and Y/N…” he sniggered, “Wow they must really be scraping the barrel for camp counsellors this year.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Clearly, I wouldn’t let you or your stupid hair near my kids with a bargepole.”

Steve had the nerve to look offended. His hair had always been long, however this year the soft brown strands coiled around his jaw in a fashionable mullet style.

I knew his hair was soft, I had borrowed his shampoo the first year I had known him…and I’d made a habit of running my hands through it every chance I got.

“If I recall correctly, you always liked it long Firecrack-.” He practically spat the nickname.

“Don’t call me that.” I warned heatedly, taking a step forward.

Steve cocked his head, his lips pouting mockingly, “Your fault for having red hair Firecracker.”

My cheeks burned at the nickname. Steve and I knew exactly why he called me Firecracker, and it definitely wasn’t just because I had red hair. That nickname was once rewarded with a horde of butterflies in my stomach, now it only created roots of contempt in my stomach. Contempt that Steve had now tainted another thing that had been ours that summer - another valuable thing that had obviously meant nothing to him.

I turned away from Steve, no longer able to look at him.

“I’m gonna check on Will, see what cabin he’s been assigned.” I said to Robin. I looked at her apologetically, the last thing I wanted to do was leave her in this uncomfortable situation with her ex-girlfriend, but Steve Harrington’s presence was suffocating and I needed to get far far away from him.

“I’ll come with you.” Robin offered quickly; happy for a reason to escape.

I nodded my goodbye at Nancy and walked past her to the front door, not before I shoved my shoulder into Steve’s ribs. It was juvenile but god, it felt good.

Steve laughed, but it wasn’t the warm laughter that he had entered the cabin with, it was cold and condescending.

“Bye Roomies!” He called cheerfully after us before I slammed the front door in his face.

I stormed away from Cabin Eleven, Robin hot on my heels as my feet automatically led me towards the lake. It was still early and the kids wouldn’t arrive for another hour or two, including Will who had chosen to take the bus with his friends. However, Steve wouldn’t have known that so he had served as a perfect alibi to run away from the trainwreck that was happening in the cabin.

“Wow,” Robin breathed out as we stood at the foot of the lake. “This is awful.”

I nodded in agreement, “Does Hopper have a sick sense of humour or something putting us all under one roof.”

I stared out at the large expanse of the lake, toeing a pebble in annoyance with my converse. It was a gorgeous day and the sun reflected on the lake, making the water almost appear like a mirror made of onyx.

The lake had always been my favourite place, my Mum would argue that it was because I was a Scorpio and it was in my blood being a water sign. Maybe she was right, but I could argue that it was because the air always felt hazy and warm surrounding the lake and after the long afternoons when it would finally glow pink with sunset, fireflies would run across the water like flecks of gold.

I took a deep breath and turned to Robin, “Look,” I grabbed her hands in mine, my fingers tracing over her chipped black nail polish, “It’s just for the summer. We just have to get through the summer and then we never have to see them again.”

Robin nodded in agreement, a sad smile on her lips, “We’ve got this. Just for the summer.”

Part Two

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #stranger things au #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfiction #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve x reader #steve harrington angst #billy hargrove #summer camp #second chance romance

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penny00dreadful · 1 year ago

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Somebody To Love - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

Looks like we're going the direction of two parts here = one chapter on AO3 so consider this your sneaky peek for chapter two! 😘

Eddie was not spiralling.

He was not.

He had not fallen into a complete self-destructive hole after his world was rocked by the sudden and out of nowhere realisation that Steve Harrington… Steve fucking Harrington, his employee, his best friend, his babysitter, his god-damn saving grace, his… his everything… was in love with him?

It hadn't...

It couldn't...

He refused to believe it.

So what if he had called the guy from the video shoot yesterday.

So what if he had taken him back to his home and done exactly what he had planned to do to him last night, for hours.

It wasn’t like he was trying to prove anything to himself.

It wasn’t like all of these god-damn feelings, that had cropped up in the wake of that realisation, were fucking drowning him and he needed to do something about them. To make them go away, to fuck them out and all but destroy the body underneath him to make himself believe that all of this was just some crossed wires or misinterpretation or him seeing things where there wasn’t anything to be seen.

Because there couldn’t be anything.

There couldn’t be.

But Eddie was forced to recon with the fact that maybe he had been running again when he woke up the next morning and looked over to find that bruised and tender expanse of skin stretched across the back of that guy from the video shoot and fuck, he couldn’t even remember his name.

Eddie had made a rule for himself some years ago after a particularly harrowing experience to never ever sleep with someone who seemed just a little bit too eager to have him specifically again.

And Jesus H. Christ had this guy been eager.

It wasn’t unusual, people clamouring to get into his pants. But there was a difference in between them and the type that this guy was.

Something just a little unsettling in hindsight about how badly he wanted Eddie to mark him up. To put bruises and bite marks and handprints on him, like it was some kind of trophy to parade around.

Look at me! Look at all these marks I got a rockstar to put into my skin!

Like, everything had been consensual on both ends, of course it had. No matter how deep Eddie would go, he would never lose himself like that.

But it still left a bad taste in his mouth in the light of day. Like Eddie could’ve carved his name into the guys forehead and he would have said thank you. Like it would be something for him to post online or scream from the rooftops about like a badge of honour that never ended well.

Eddie slid out of his bed, being thankful not for the first time that the obscene amount of money he had now allowed him the space and budget to buy a bed big enough to fit at least four grown men easily.

And it had, a few times in the past.

Shit.

Maybe he wasn’t as in control of everything as he’d always thought he was. Had he ever been? Had he ever had a proper handle on the amount of sex or drugs or alcohol he’d subjected his body and mind to?

Deep down he knew the answer to that. He’d known the answer to that for a very long time, he’d just never wanted to admit it to himself.

Not before now.

He'd never had a handle on it.

Because Steve had had a handle on it for him.

Steve had always been the one keeping him at a relatively safe level, ever since he’d come into his life all those years ago. Ever since the first time he’d had to stick his fingers down Eddie’s throat and ride with him to the hospital to get his stomach pumped.

He’d never been allowed to get to that level again.

Jesus H. Christ Eddie was just one walking giant fucking red flag, wasn’t he? What the hell did Steve see in him?

He felt like he was walking downstairs with a cartoon cloud hanging over his head.

Eddie didn’t stop at the kitchen, just continuing on down to the basement, reaching out for his guitar like a lifeline. He curled up on the couch and picked out nonsense on the strings, letting whatever music came out of him compliment his sour mood.

Eddie didn’t know how long he stayed down there, but eventually his mood started to lift. Music was always a bit of a gift for him like that. It always managed to make him feel better.

It was only when he caught sight of a melting bright pink frappuccino sitting on the coffee table that he started to panic.

Because that meant that Steve was here.

Of course Steve was here, Steve was always here, taking care of him and cleaning up his messes.

He realised then why he’d felt so comfortable leaving that guy alone in his house, alone in his bedroom while he hid underground like a worm.

Because he’d done it so many times before.

Because he’d always left it up to Steve to show the guys the door while Eddie fucked off to do whatever it was he decided he was doing that day, oftentimes exactly what he was doing now, brooding in his basement studio with his guitar.

He didn’t know what it was this time around but he couldn’t shake the feeling that if Steve came face to face with the guy upstairs it would be disastrous. Something would happen, something would go wrong.

Except he did know why it was different this time, of course he did. Because this time was the first time he was fully aware of Steve’s potential feelings for him and what it must do to him every time he had to go kick Eddie’s latest conquest out of the house.

He shot to his feet but only made it halfway up the stairs before the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed around the house and he froze in place.

Another creak came from up above and he shot back into action, running up the remaining steps like a bat out of hell and barrelling straight into the man himself.

“Jesus.” Steve had both of his hands on Eddie’s arms to steady him, he looked as put together as he always did but there was something about his posture that was off. He was a little too stiff, his eyes were slightly red and his face had a slight flush to it.

He looked like he’d been crying.

Or trying desperately not to.

“What happened?” Eddie clutched back at the lapels of Steve's suit jacket in a panic and Steve himself looked momentarily bewildered at Eddie's desperation before he tried to brush it off.

“Sent the guy home,” he shrugged, “the usual.”

“Something happened, tell me.” Eddie couldn't explain it, he felt like something was slipping through his fingers and he was powerless to stop it.

Steve shook his head. “Nothing happened, Eds.”

“No, no. Something happened, Stevie. What was it? Did the guy say something to you or-”

Steve’s face shuttered, that infuriating blank mask was put back into place.

Eddie dug his fingers in. “What did he say?”

“It’s- he didn’t say anything.”

“No, Stevie, sweetheart, tell me please. Please.”

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice was firm and unwavering. He let go of Eddie’s arms and prised himself out of his grip. “Drop it, alright? It’s nothing for you to worry about. He’s left. It’s done.”

Opportunity gone, that was the only thing cycling through Eddie’s head at that moment. He’d missed something, let something pass him by but he didn’t know what.

Steve wouldn’t be argued with, when he didn’t want to talk about something the guy was a fortress and no amount of needling would get it out of him.

“Okay.” He almost whispered as Steve turned, walking further into the house without a backwards glance.

Eddie didn’t follow him, he couldn’t. If Steve wanted space to deal with whatever the fuck happened, he’d give him space. Though he did have half a mind to call up that guy and find out just what the fuck he had done to make Steve react like that.

Steve had never been outwardly riled up by anyone Eddie had slept with before, he'd always been polite smiles and gentle but firm demeanour unless whoever it was decided they could boss him around too.

Then the smile turned cutting and he became more firm than gentle but he never got upset.

Nearly the whole day had passed before he saw Steve again, hidden away somewhere in his giant house, which was very unusual for the both of them. When Eddie wasn’t touring or writing or doing whatever else he needed to do for work he and Steve were inseparable. They hung out constantly, Steve practically lived in Eddie’s biggest guest room during those times.

But when he did see Steve again, it was with a cold pit of dread settling in his stomach. Because Steve was dressed casual. Like he wasn't at work anymore. Like he was... like he was leaving.

“I think I need a vacation.” His tone was light, but forced. Like he was trying to convince the two of them it would just be a simple jaunty outing and everything was fine.

Right.

A vacation.

Right.

Steve wasn’t leaving forever. He was just taking a break.

Eddie could handle that.

He could.

Steve deserved it after all. He’d been running around after Eddie for so long, always so dedicated, always so…

He deserved a vacation. He really, honestly, truly did.

“How-” Eddie cleared his throat and wrapped his arms around himself. “How long will you be gone?”

Steve looked at him with something close to relief that Eddie wasn’t putting up a fight with him. Maybe, just maybe there was a thread of sadness underneath it all but it was so difficult to see.

“A couple of weeks. Maybe a month. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll know until I get there.”

“Oh, one of those vacations, huh?” He laughed. Or attempted to. It was pathetically flat.

“Yeah. One of those.” Steve stepped forward and enveloped Eddie in a hug, warm and solid and soft and all encompassing, like he always was. “I’m… I’m gonna try to switch off, I think. So I’ll probably be out of contact for most of it.” Eddie nodded against Steve’s neck and squeezed him around the middle as tight as he could.

He wasn’t leaving forever, he was going to come back.

He was going to come back and everything would be fine and it would all work out.

“Where-?” Eddie shook his head. Steve wanted to get away and Eddie didn’t need to know where he was going. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. “Never mind.”

“I’ve already got my replacements lined up. They’ll be here in the morning. You’ll like them. Promise.”

Eddie pulled his head back, still comfortably settled in Steve’s arms but able to see his face now.

Close enough to kiss.

Eddie wanted to kiss.

“More than one?” He said instead.

"You're a handful." Steve smiled, a familiar, easy, mean thing. “I’ve left them a list.”

“A list?” Eddie huffed, wedging his arms in between the two of them so he could cross them over his chest before burrowing his head back into Steve’s neck. “You’ve left them a list like I’m some pedigree dog.”

“You are a pedigree dog.” Steve lifted his arm and patted him on the head, like he was petting him, like a dog, the bitch.

“I’ll miss you.” It was muffled and barely audible to Eddie’s own ears but Steve still heard it.

Of course he did.

Steve’s hand gentled, sliding to cup the back of his head. “I’ll miss you too.”

A car beeped outside and Steve finally let go, stepping back out of Eddie’s space.

Steve was leaving.

Steve was leaving now and Eddie wasn't doing anything about it. Was there anything he could do to make him stay? Anything he could do that wouldn't break the two of them?

With one hand on the front door Steve turned to look back at him. “See you in a few weeks, Eds.”

Eddie had to swallow down the golf ball in his throat and try to ignore the cavernous ache in his heart that had just sprung up to be able to respond but somehow he managed. “I’ll be waiting.”

With a small smile and two light pats on the doorframe, Steve was gone.

Eddie stood there with his arms clenched tightly around himself in his big empty rockstar foyer, in his big empty rockstar house long after the car had pulled away, long after the automatic sensor of the porch light switched off, long enough to feel the ache in his knees, his hips, his back from standing so still for so long.

He trudged upstairs still in a haze, bypassing his bedroom and heading straight into the biggest guest room of the house.

It was always kept pristine.

Eddie had worried initially that Steve had felt unwelcome here when he’d first started using the room but then he slowly came to realise that that’s just who Steve was.

Neat and tidy.

In nearly everything he did.

Eddie slid under the covers and burrowed his head in deep, deep into the pillow that smelled of hairspray and amber cologne.

He swallowed around that fucking golf ball that was only getting higher, threatening to spill over as he pulled out his phone and dialled.

“Twinkie!” Her bright voice came through despite the late hour.

“Chrissy.” Eddie gasped out her name as his sob finally broke free, shocking himself at just how harsh it was.

“Where are you? What’s wrong? Do I need to call Steve?”

He hiccupped in a breath. “No, don’t call him. He's... I’m at home-”

“Okay, I’m on my way, honey.”

She stayed on the phone the whole drive over, they didn’t talk. He just quietly wept over the line until it went dead when her footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

Chrissy crawled under the covers next to him without a word, just pulled him into her chest and let him cry.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @child-of-cthulhu @sweetwaterangel @anaibis @katytheinspiredworkaholic @littlewildflowerkitten

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #fanfic #steddie fic #penny00dreadful #stranger things fic #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar eddie #personal assistant steve #personal assistant steve harrington #modern au #somebody to love

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bangaveragewhitewine · 1 year ago

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Clean Slate

Steve Harrington X Reader

It’s summer in Chicago, 1994. Being single in the city isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You feel less strong single independent woman, and more like the lonely teenager who floated between friend groups. A blind date with a familiar face might just be the clean slate you didn’t know you needed.

Clean Slate playlist

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings/Content: Both you and Steve are in your late-twenties. Some mentions of anxiety and feeling lonely. Other than that, flirting. Steve being dreamy. No use of Y/N and the reader is referenced as a being woman.

Author’s Note: Being in your late twenties sucks, huh? I’m just getting back into writing again, inspired by the amazing authors who have made me fall in love with Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson again and again. I had such fun writing this and fucking around on Canva 💖

Please do not do any AI fuckery with my work or repost on other sites.

(divider by me, that’s why it sucks)

edit: Read Pinch Me a follow up to Clean Slate

This was a bad idea. With every step you took from the subway, your desire to be back on your sofa eating pasta in your pyjamas grew more and more. A blind date? You definitely hadn’t been in your right mind when you agreed to this. Thinking back on it, when had being wine-drunk with your best friend ever cultivated a good decision?

After a steady stream of bad first dates, disappointing situationships and one walking red-flag you had called your boyfriend for eight months, Annie had finally taken pity on you and took charge of setting you up with someone. Over almost room-temperature white wine and an empty pizza box, she had made you pinky-promise to trust her as Mermaids played in the background. She couldn’t stand any longer to see you cry over preppy yuppies and wannabe grungers who only wanted to meet you to hook-up or string you along (alongside several other women who also deserved better). She had seen how deep it cut when you were stood up, left waiting by the phone by some mediocre poser who had already moved on. Slurring her words, Annie had held your tear-stained face and told you that you were wasting the best years of your life on idiots who stamped on your big heart and dimmed your light. Bolstered by her words, and more wine, you ended up dancing and scream-singing in your little studio apartment to a mixtape of songs from your college days and fell asleep on your second-hand sofa with your pinky fingers linked.

A few days later, after the hangover had subsided and you had done your best to forget your tearful confession of just how lonely you felt in the city, Annie called you up to ask if you were free on Friday night. Thinking another girl’s night was on the cards, you said yes.

“Great. I have someone I want you to meet, he works with my brother. Does Hardy’s at 8 work for you?”

The pinky-promise with your best friend since college could categorically not be taken back and so you found yourself reluctantly agreeing. As long as he wasn’t a murderer, or as emotionally unavailable as your last three suitors, how bad could it be?

“Well when you fall in love and have beautiful babies, just remember who set you up, m’kay?” Annie had said when you called her up, considering cancelling. “You’re going!”

After going away to college from your small town upbringing, a move to Chicago was supposed to be the ultimate dream, but inside you still felt like the awkward teenager from Hawkins, Indiana. The outsider at every party, every hang-out at the mall or the arcade. The add-on to every friend group who said ‘you can come with us if you want to’ instead of an actual invitation. When you called your mom on the phone, she insisted that you had it all, that you were a real modern woman. She had been married and was already a mother at your age, and she was proud that you had the opportunity to be the bright independent woman you always wanted to be. It just didn’t seem so shiny now that it was your reality.

With the bar in your sights, you took a deep breath and swiped the tiny beads of sweat that gathered over the bridge of your nose. Summer in the city was heavy with humidity; you could feel the lining of your long slip dress clinging to your thighs, riding up under the delicate black floral. The claw-clip holding up your hair was truly doing the lord's work, keeping your freshly washed blow-dry blind date-ready.

You knew very little about your date - his name was Steve, he was a teacher with great hair. He was going to be wearing a blue shirt and would be on the lookout for the girl with the pink rose embroidered on her bag. Your entire outfit had been put together around the one piece you loved that could be picked out in the Friday night crowd of the bar. Classic first date; Annie was committed to helping you live the rom-com fantasy you deserved.

Des’ree’s words of wisdom, and your best friend’s blunt insistence that you were a hot bitch, echoed in your head as you took a moment to compose yourself and let your hair down over your clammy neck. Inside the bar was barely any cooler as you made your way through the stragglers from after-work drinks mingling with those who were just starting their night out. The desire to go home had never been stronger as you propped yourself by the jukebox and waited, trying not to cringe as you thought about what you looked like to the couples and groups of friends drinking and laughing around you. It felt far too similar to the house parties of your youth. What if he didn’t turn up? Or worse, what if he did and turned on his heel after realising you were his date? What could be best described as an overwhelming feeling of dread crept over you as you fidgeted with the strap of your bag, trying not to look too eager for the mystery that was Steve.

Hearing your name brought you back to reality and out of your doom-spiral. As if. Steve Harrington was making his way over, the crowd parting with ease for him. Surely you had hit your head and this was some sort of dream…

“Hey…” A smile crept onto his face as his eyes darted between you and the beacon that was the rose embroidered on your bag. A city of millions and your blind date was the boy who had defended your honour at the age of five years old after Daniel P. pushed you in the playground; Steve had called him a ‘butthead’ and told Mrs Holland on the other boy.

You hoped that the dim light of the bar hid your pink cheeks as Steve stopped in front of you, looking even more dreamy than he had at junior prom. The blue shirt made him glow golden, fitting just right over the breadth of his shoulders. His hair was coiffed perfectly, defying humidity and gravity and giving him a few more inches of height.

“Steve..” You couldn’t help a shaky laugh as the realisation washed over you both. It was easier to tune out the rest of the bar as he pulled you in for a quick but tight hug. You could have sighed at the feeling of his arms around you; you might have done just that, melted into a puddle of a girl had he not peeled away to get a good look at you. An irritating little pocket of anxiety in your chest could hardly believe he remembered you.

“Nice bag. I think you’re the girl I’ve been looking for.”

You felt like you could swoon. Or moan. Steve Harrington was effortlessly charming, more so than when he reigned in Hawkins High. Losing his crown had humbled him, that and working retail in your dead-end hometown. He looked genuinely pleased to see you, someone familiar in a city of strangers. You feel your teeth sink into the dusty-rose of your lip as you smile.

“Thanks.” You will your voice not to shake as your heart pounds hard. “Annie told me you had great hair. I should’ve known it was going to be you.”

His laugh is soft, but you can still hear it over the music and voices in the bar. With one huge gentle hand on your elbow, he steers you to the bar to order drinks, standing close enough to see the sprinkling of moles and freckles on his neck and cheek and the hair peeking from the unbuttoned top of his shirt. Steve Harrington was a man now, all grown up.

“She did, huh? I think I’ve met her once, I work with her brother,” Steve edges closer so that you could hear him. “How long’ve you been in Chicago?”

“She didn’t even know you were ‘The Hair’.” You smiled and felt the weight of his gaze; you couldn’t ignore the sparkling feeling in your tummy. “Um I left Hawkins in ‘86, went to college in Indy. Moved here in ‘93.” Steve leans in to hear you, nodding as you count up the years in your head. “You’re a teacher? So are you more Scott Clark or Coach Kelly?”

Steve laughs again and shakes his head as he pays for your drinks. “Neither. Maybe a little Clarke, without the sweater vests. I teach third grade so they would definitely roast me if I did.” He runs a hand through his hair, smirking, “But I do coach basketball after school too, you got me.” He spots a seat and steers you to a little high-top table, pulls out the stool for you before sitting opposite, visibly relaxed. There’s something about how you have bypassed the awkward introductions part of the date that makes you feel a little more at ease. But this is Steve Harrington. Any minute now he’ll make a polite excuse to leave after remembering how bookish and weird you were in school.

Except he doesn’t.

“I still can’t believe it’s you. You look great,” he says, not trying to flirt too hard. Steve is looking at you like he’s happy you’re here. Happy you’re his date.

“I can’t believe you remember me. I was.. so boring,” you laugh at your own expense before sipping your drink, looking at the ice clicking against the glass.

“Quiet maybe. Not boring though,” he ducked his head, making you look into his golden brown eyes. “Hey. Clean slate? That’s why we left Hawkins. If you can forget how much of an ass I was in high school, I can forget…” Steve pauses and hums as he thinks back.

Forgettable. Unremarkable. That’s how you felt, blending into the background everywhere you went. You hadn’t been a cheerleader, or even a band-geek. Yeah you went to parties, but usually left early. You didn’t monologue on the lunchroom tables or get detention, and in the one play you auditioned for, they asked you to paint the sets - you couldn’t fade any further into the background if you tried.

And Steve had never been an ass to you; his kingly confidence had burned fast and bright in the school halls until his fall from grace. He had always been polite, kind even; he asked to borrow a pen a few times, scolded Carol Perkins when she pushed past you and made you drop your lunch one time. He did just enough on a group project on Macbeth to keep him on your good side…

“Huh.” Steve frowns, looking a little fond as you snap yourself back to reality. “I can’t remember anything embarrassing about you. All good.”

Your cheeks flamed and you couldn’t stop the nervous giggle that bubbled up from your chest. “Smooth, Harrington. Wow, remind me how you’re single?” He was definitely just being nice. You could remind him about the time you drank way too much peach schnapps and lemonade at Tammy Thompson’s 18th birthday and had to be picked up by your mom, or when you said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’ in ninth grade - both of which still haunted you when you tried to fall asleep. But Steve just grins back at you.

“I mean it! You had that pink scrunchie permanently attached to your body, and a little snort laugh. Totally cute, not embarrassing at all.” He stays smiling as he sips his beer, seeing how you’re stunned that he remembers. Not smug, totally hot and he’s not even trying. You’re aghast.

“You remember my fucking scrunchie…?” “If you tell me you still have it…” “Steve, it’s literally on my bedside table.”

Steve’s laughter makes you join in, snorting involuntarily as your shoulders shake, which just makes him laugh more. It's been a long time since a date made you laugh like this, let alone feel like you’re floating.

When you both settle, Steve reaches over and takes your hand. You remember how you had wondered how holding his hand might feel when you saw him walk Nancy Wheeler to class way back when. It felt better than you ever dreamed it might.

“Hey. Lemme tell you something, when I saw you over there I wanted to come right up and say hi. And then I saw your bag…it made my week.”

Butterflies soar in your belly and you feel your cheeks heat up again. “Steve..”

“But just know, I thought you were cute in school. I just.. had my own shit going on and I was pretty shitty for a few years. So if you can give a reformed asshole a chance, I’d love to hear about how you’ve been, and actually get to know you.”

Steve squeezes your hand as CeCe Peniston sings Finally to the bar. The song totally sinks in now as you squeeze Steve’s hand in return, making him beam a smile your way.

“Okay, Clean slate. But Steve? I totally had a crush on you. Even when you were doing keg stands and goofing around in math.” You make him smile even brighter, even as he shakes his head.

“So cute. Damn, you’re definitely trouble.”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” You raise a brow and sip your drink again, feeling less anxious now. The drink helped, but knowing that you could make an impression on Hawkins High royalty was certainly bolstering.

“One question. Very important.” You straighten up before leaning toward him, almost conspiratorially. You don’t miss how his eyes dip to your lips before meeting your gaze.

“Go for it.” “Are you sure about the sweater vests? I think you could really make them work.”

Now it’s your turn to grin into your glass as Steve throws his head back. “Oh I’m so in trouble with you.”

He lifts his glass, meeting you in the middle to clink it against yours with a signature Steve Harrington wink. Maybe something good could come from a wine-soaked pinky promise.

bonus Steve inspo for the girlies who made it to the end - ily💖

#steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington x y/n #steve harrington is a total dreamboat #my fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x f!reader #bangaveragefics

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tearsfortheyouth · 1 year ago

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OBSESSION - Steve Kemp, Part Two

Part two!! Welcome back guys :) Make sure to leave a vote/reblog/comment. It really helps!!

Five months into her best friend’s disappearance, (Y/N) meets someone new, and for the first time in months she feels as if she can finally breathe again. She never thought she’d become the newest obsession of a charming psychopathic cannibal.

- WARNING(S): NON-CON/DUB-CON, grief, drug abuse, kidnapping, Steve Kemp is a red flag himself, cannibalism, manipulation, blood

The car was silent, the heater the only source of noise between us. I fiddled awkwardly with the hem of my sweater, the purse in my lap. One of Steve’s hands held the wheel of his car, the other holding his half-finished cup of coffee, and he sipped at it, his eyes on the road.

From outside my window, I could see it had started to snow, and a thick white blanket began to slowly but surely coat the city's roads. It was pretty, but I shivered at the thought of walking to and from work in this weather.

I hated the cold.

“Thanks again for giving me a ride,” I broke the silence, eyes shifting to the man beside me. “I really appreciate it.”

He turned, grinning at me. “No trouble, (Y/N). The city can be dangerous, ‘specially for pretty girls like you.”

I blushed, turning away from the man to look back outside the window, hiding my face. He seemed to notice this and groaned. “I shouldn’t have said that, I was just meaning that— well, you’re pretty, and obviously it’s really late and—“ he shook his head, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Jesus, I’m just gonna stop talking now.”

I smiled at his awkward nature, my teeth nipping at my inner cheek. It was cute, the way he got embarrassed. He seemed awkward, and part of me liked it. “It’s fine,” I assured quietly. “I just…I don’t know how to handle compliments.”

He glanced at me, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

I nodded. “I just don’t get very many, I suppose. They make me nervous.”

He hummed quietly, his brows furrowed as he stared ahead. “You—you don’t get any?” He sounded surprised, almost as if he were in disbelief, and I shrugged.

“I keep to myself,” I said simply, and his eyes flickered towards me briefly before quickly moving back to the road.

“I don’t see how,” he began, taking another sip of his coffee. “You’re definitely the cutest barista I’ve ever seen.”

I flushed red once more, an embarrassed laugh escaping me. “You’re just a charmer, aren’t you?”

He smirked, tilting slightly. “Guilty as charged.”

“Oh hey, you missed my turn, Steve,” I quickly pointed out just as we passed by the turnoff to my apartment.

Before getting into his car, he had told me he knew the city like the back of his hand, and I furrowed my brows, nipping at my bottom lip nervously.

“Oh, we did…” He replied, turning behind him to cast a quick glance to where we were supposed to have turned. “I know another way, don’t worry,” he said, turning to cast a charming smile.

I nodded slowly, my hands coming to grip my purse tightly. Part of me knew it was nerves. Afterall, I hadn’t been alone with a man since the summer of my senior year in college. The bundle of anxiety chewed the inside of my stomach.

What if Steve was a murderer? Was he going to take me and kill me? Was he going to kidnap me?

Suddenly, I remembered the paper on my medication bottle.

Paranoia was a side effect of my meds.

I took a deep breath, my eyes falling shut.

Steve isn’t going to kill me, I tried reasoning with myself. Steve seemed like a genuinely nice man. He was awkward and nervous and good looking. Creeps weren’t good looking.

Right?

I looked over at him, his handsome face concentrated on the road as he drove, his other hand gripping his coffee. He had mentioned he was a doctor, and that he had files to look over tonight. In the back, a stack of files sat, a thick yellow folder with a patient's name being all the proof that I needed to know he wasn’t lying.

Creeps weren’t doctors.

The silence in the car seemed to go on and on, and part of me yearned for him to break it.

Opening my mouth to speak, I quickly shut it when I realized I truly had nothing to say. Instead, I continued fiddling with my purse, every so often glancing over to the doctor beside me.

After a couple minutes, he seemed to catch up on this, and he turned to send me a quick look. “Do I have something on my face?”

I smiled, shaking my head with pink tinted cheeks.

“Just can’t get enough of me, can you,” he winked, a laugh leaving his lips.

“Dear god, just keep your eyes on the road, okay?” I giggled, rolling my eyes.

It was about another five minutes of driving before we turned onto a familiar street, and I breathed a small sigh of relief.

It had just been my paranoia.

See? Steve was a nice man.

“It’s this unit right here,” I smiled, and his car came to a stop outside the building, putting it into park.

Neither of us made a move.

Sitting in silence for a couple seconds, I picked up my purse, bringing it against my chest and hugging it, turning to face the man beside me.

He was already looking at me, his blue eyes soft and inviting. Even in the darkness of the car, they seemed to glow.

“Well, um,” I coughed awkwardly, brushing hair from my face. “Thanks for the ride.”

He smiled in response, nodding once, placing his coffee cup into his cup holder.

“Well, uh, I should…I’m just gonna go. Have a good night, Steve.” I smiled, my hand reaching to open the door.

When he said nothing, I hopped out, letting it shut behind me.

Snow fell around me, and suddenly, I longed to be back in Steve’s warm car. I shivered as I wrapped my jacket tighter around me, blinking away the snow from my lashes as I hurried up the sidewalk.

Just as my hand hovered over my building's door handle, a voice called from behind me, and I turned, squinting my eyes to see through the snow.

“Wait, (Y/N)!”

“Steve?” I called back, confused. “What-?”

Finally, Steve reached me, panting and drenched in snow. “I” he breathed heavily, “I’m gonna regret it so much if I don’t. Can I please have your number?” He held his phone out, lips parted as he scanned my shocked face. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again. I don’t wanna wait too long.”

Wiping snow from my frost-nipped face, I breathed a laugh, nodding my head quickly and taking his phone. My heart fluttered as I punched in my number, a handsome grin adoring his face. Handing back his phone, he took a glance at it before switching it off.

My breaths blew out in puffs of smoke, and I licked my chapped lips.

“I’ll text you,” he promised, watching as I pushed open the door of my apartment unit.

“You better,” I mumbled, flustered. “I’ll see you later, Steve.”

With a final smile, I let the door shut behind me, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I was once again greeted with the heater of the apartment lobby. Rushing upstairs and into my own apartment, I locked the door, a huge smile on my face.

I felt giddy, and I couldn’t stop myself from giggling at the thought of Steve. The way he had run into the snow after me, just to get my number.

I blushed at the thought.

Moving to my nightstand, I picked up my medication, quickly grabbing two from the bottle and shoving them into my mouth, swallowing them dry.

I quickly changed into my PJ’s, brushing my teeth and putting my tangled hair up.

Throwing myself onto the bed, I stared up at the roof, and soon, I found myself drifting to sleep, Steve on my mind.

————————————

It was only a few days later that Steve and I had our first date. It had been his idea that we have a picnic under the night sky.

It was a cute idea that I loved, so I didn’t hesitate to say yes.

He had come to my place around eight that night, a bag full of groceries and an expensive bottle of wine. Together, we put together sandwiches and other types of food before getting into his car and making our way to a park nearby.

So, here we sat, a blanket the only barrier between our bodies and the damp grass beneath us. It was cold, but we were prepared. A thick blanket covered each of our bodies on top of jackets and mittens. The cold was strong, but so was our ambition for seeing the stars.

Already on my second glass of wine, I sipped carefully, watching as my breath turned to smoke. Though it was below thirty degrees that night, I could hardly feel it thanks to the blankets and jackets that surrounded me.

Steve sat beside me, his chin lifted as he looked up at the dark sky above us. His eyes gleamed, taking in the beauty of the stars. Slowly, I did the same, staring up into the abyss.

It was truly beautiful.

“Do you see that one there?” Steve asked, his finger lifting to point to a constellation.

I glimpsed where he was pointing, my gaze falling on a clump of stars. I nodded, humming as I took another sip.

“That one’s Leo. The stars take the shape of a lion.” His finger drifted over to another bundle of stars. “Then there’s the Ursa Major. Over there is Cassiopeia.” His hand moved over once more, finger pointed. “This one’s my favorite— the Orion.”

I licked my wine stained lips, the cold nipping at them as I looked towards Orion, amazement gleaming in my eyes.

“In Greek Mythology, Orion was a hunter, just about the fiercest hunter ever. Achilles is the most well known Greek warrior, but I’ve always thought Orion was the greatest.”

I turned to look at him, eyes drinking in the man before me. He stared up at the sky, and suddenly, his eyes flickered to meet my own. I blushed, quickly turning away and taking the last sip of my wine. I didn’t miss the way he smiled in adoration.

“Are you going to have another glass?” I asked, eyeing what was left of the wine.

“Mmhm. It’s all yours. One of us has to drive tonight,” he teased, picking up the bottle and pouring me the last of its contents. I giggled, the alcohol making me feel warm and less awkward.

I liked this version of me.

Bringing the glass back to my lips, he watched me closely as I took another sip, and I looked at him, almost choking on the liquid. “Don’t look at me like that,” I said, flustered. “It makes me feel nervous.”

“I make you feel nervous?” He pressed, a teasing smirk resting on his face. He took a grape from the bowl of fruit, popping it into his mouth.

I snorted at his cocky attitude. “Maybe…just a little bit.” I held my fingers up to show him the amount he made me nervous, and he raised his dark brows.

“Just a little?”

“Mmhmm,” I confirmed, snacking on a strawberry.

His gaze lingered on my face, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He hummed, eyes scanning each detail of my face before flickering them back up to the sky. Suddenly, his hand gently pushed my shoulder, his finger flying backup to point to something in the sky. “Quick, look! It’s a shooting star.”

I glanced upwards, and sure enough, a shooting star passed over our heads.

“Make a wish,” he urged, looking back down towards me.

Quickly, my eyes fell shut, and I tried to find something I truly wanted in life.

A face flashed before my eyes, and my heart fluttered at the familiar warm eyes that once lit up my life.

My wish was decided.

Finally opening my eyes, Steve was still looking at me, his features soft. I smiled gently, taking one last sip of wine from my cup.

He shifted himself on the blanket, leaning to lay down and stare up at the sky. I followed suit, hugging the blanket closer to me.

“Tell me about your family, (Y/N),” he said quietly, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked upwards, his gaze observing the stars above us.

I forced a tight-lipped smile. “I grew up in the foster care system, so, I don’t really know much about them, honestly.”

“Oh,” he mumbled quickly. “I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine,” I giggled. “I don’t really mind not having a family. Definitely saves me from the family drama.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “You’re telling me.” He adjusted himself on the blanket once more, arms coming to rest behind his head. “What about your friends?”

I bit my inner cheek. “I don’t really have any,” I admitted.

He turned to look at me, brows knitted together. “Not even one?”

Silently, I shook my head, ignoring his eyes on me. He looked back up at the sky.

“I had one.”

I sucked in a breath, pausing.

I didn’t really talk about Lilith. I hadn’t spoken her name since the moment everyone began to accept that she was dead and gone; however, this time, something felt right about saying her name. It felt like it would be…okay to tell her story.

To tell Lilith’s story.

“She was the only person in my life, really,” I continued, my eyes never leaving the stars above me. They seemed to urge me to speak, calling for me to continue my story.

“She went missing in May. She had told me she was going to Manhattan for a doctor's appointment, but I knew she was lying. My birthday was that Friday, and we had been in Manhattan together a couple weeks before.” I sighed sadly at the memory of Lilith and I walking the streets, glancing into the windows and gazing at expensive gifts we longed to afford but knew we never would. “I had seen these beautiful necklaces—two of them with pink heart diamonds and gold chains. They were the most beautiful necklaces we had ever seen, and I had promised her that one day, they’d be ours.” A solemn laugh fell from my lips, and I could feel Steve’s gaze burning into my face.

I could feel tears welling in my eyes, but I blinked them away.

“She had spent the next coming weeks saving every cent of her paycheck. She had picked up so many shifts from her job that I had hardly seen her during the time between our shopping day and the day she left. I waited and waited for her to come back.” A tear slid from my glazed eyes, trailing down my face until it reached my lips, and I licked it away, a sad smile gracing my lips. “My birthday came and went. So did Fourth of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and next week, it’ll be Christmas.”

Steve was silent beside me, and I felt a warm hand caress my arm, his thumb massaging the area in comfort. Leaning up onto his arms, he leaned over me, his face contorted into a look of grief. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N)…I-I couldn’t even imagine-“ His hand reached up to wipe away a tear from my eye, eyes trailing up and down my face.

It was as if a boulder had been lifted from my chest, and I breathed a shaky sigh. It felt good to be comforted, to have someone to wipe away your tears. I had forgotten what it was like to have someone care, and now, as Steve’s hand brushed against my cheek, I couldn’t stop myself from leaning into his touch.

His lips turned up into a gentle smile, blue eyes glistening in the moonlight.

Lilith would want me to be happy. That was all she had ever wanted for me in life, so wouldn’t she want the same in death?

Death.

All these months, I had been fighting the idea that Lilith was dead, battling a war in my mind that so desperately ached to see her again. When you’re alone, it’s easy to hyperfixate on daydreams, to fill your head with delusions and convince yourself that things aren’t the way they truly are.

Lilith was gone. My best friend was dead, and no amount of sulking and isolating myself was going to change that. No amount of depriving myself with human connection was going to bring her back.

Staring into his blue eyes awoke something in me. Staring into his blue eyes made me realize what I was missing in life. It made me realize I couldn’t go back into the abyss. I could no longer stare up at my ceiling longing to sleep and never wake up. I could no longer find comfort in scalding hot water, or spending all my free time in bed.

I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t.

Staring up into his blue eyes, I did something that even surprised myself.

I leaned upwards, closing the gap between us, and pressed my lips against his.

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #dark!sebastian stan x reader #dark!sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #dark!steve kemp #fresh movie #steve kemp #dark! sebastian stan x reader #Steve kemp x reader

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first-edition · 1 year ago

Text

Sunday Love

“Southern belle”Reader x Cowboy! Bucky

(Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors)

Sum- You‘re back home visiting your mother and sister only to be introduced to your sisters fiancé and his best friend, who just happens to be town heartthrob.

CW- fluff, Fem reader, talk of scars, hint of alcohol consumption, eventual smut, p-in-v Unprotected, breeding kink if you squint, kissing, pet names, profanity. Blood, anger, cussing

“There she is!!” Your mother runs Down the stairs of the porch pulling you into a hug.

“Mama!” You smile hugging her back. The sweet smell of fresh backed pie wafting through your noise as she squeezes you.

“How’s the big city treating you darlin?” She asks excitedly. Evened since you moved out of the house you’ve lived in Vegas you barley have time to visit your family all the way back in south of Montana.

“Loud. Im uh im actually thinking about moving back here but I know yet.” You reply she smiles even wider pulling back from you.

“Where’s peg?” You ask.

“PEGGY GET OUT HERE!” You mother yells her thick southern accent drowning the noise of your car engine still running. Your bright red headed sister comes running outta the house her hand entwined with someone else’s. A tall blonde man who wears cowboy boots, washed out blue jeans with a brown belt, a white tshirt that has an American flag stitched to the shoulder sleeve.

“Y/n!” Peggy let’s go of the man to hug you. You hug her back but your eyes never leave the man in front of you.

“Hi Peg.” You reply slightly less happy than before.

“How’s the big city treat’n you.” She asks.

“Mmhm great Peg who’s this?” You ask crossing your arms and leaning against your car. A red catallac

“Oh come on y/n stop that.” She pulled your arms apart.

“Pleausre to meet you, my name is steve rogers your sister has told me mighty fine things about you.” He says. You eye him up and down as he reaches out a hand. You shake his hand a strong grip on him.

“Y/n…steve and I are engaged…were getting married.“ a huge smile embarks on her face you raise your eye brows.

“O-oh..” you say nearly choking on your own breath.

“I meant to call you but with all the wedding preparations and stuff it’s been a lot.” She says. Your eye catches someone else exiting your childhood home.

Your mother seems to take notice to your aversion and sees bucky standing on the porch.

“OH y/n You remember bucky? Dont you?” She says bringing him down the porch he keeps his hands tucked in his pockets. The dark leather cowboy hat sitting low on his head barley covering bright ocean eyes.

“James barnes.” You say

“Doll. Its nice to see you again” he says a small smile follows your face as he remembered the nick name. You walk up to poking his chest above the black T-shirt he wears.

“Last time I saw you, You were half my size and fat.” You giggle.

“Hmm last I saw you, you was mean and would steal liquor outta mr l/ns stash.” He chuckles. You gasp slapping his arm. Only leaving him with a chuckle.

“I gotta run sugar but I hope to see you tonight?” Steve says to your sister.

“Yeah of course!” She smiles smitten as they share a kiss you avert your eyes in disgust.

“Y/n you should join us tonight bucks holding a party at his ranch tonight.” Steve says.

“Mm you know im kinda tired jet lag and all so i-“

“Youre coming missy, now turn off your engine and bring those bags inside. Bucky be a sweetheart and help now would yah?” Your mom says with out hesitation he nods and grabs the suit case next to you.

“Oh becarful that super-..” you stand a bit stunned as he easily picks it up no grunts or hesitation.

“Heavy.” You finish as he turns and walks inside. You turn to your sister.

“W h a t?” You mouth. She giggles.

————

The loudness of music and people yelling and laughing fill your ears. You walk around seeing kids running with cotton candy, and lemonade.

“Y/n!?” Your sister yells your name. You look over seeing her with steve.

Walking over to them you sigh.

“Hey.”

“You made it!” She smiles giving you a quick hug.

“So..what is this?” You ask.

“Buckys dad passed a way last year and he gave him the ranch and bull ring. He fixed the place up a bit and it’s more of a grand reopening.” Peggy smiles.

“Oh I didn’t know that.” You say she nods.

“Y’all having fun?” Buckys voice speaks from behind you a large smile forming on Peggy’s face.

“Absolutely my little sister just got here too!” She says.

“Im 6 months older than you.” You snidley comment.

“Bucky. Why dont you show y/n around hm?” Steve says.

“Uh yeah. You want a tour?” He asks.

“Yeah sure.” You say. Peggy giggles as you walk off with bucky.

He shows you the bullpen, the horses, the dance floor where everyone is, where the food and drinks are, and finally the mechanical bull where you see your sister riding and screaming.

You notice the entire time hes showing you around he’s stopped by girls, being asked to dance and given a few free drinks which he dosnt take.

You both take a seat at an empty table acrcross from each other. Buck sips on a beer.

“So. Why are you back in town?” He asks

“Mama wanted me to visit so here I am. And might I say I did not expect you of all people to keep getting stopped like that.” You chuckle.

“Ah yeah. Apparently if you loose your arm go through trauma and loose weight the girls of the town go crazy for you.” He says

“Dark horse type then?” You say he nods chuckling. Before starting up the conversation again a girl comes over placing her hand on his shoulder she’s red headed in black jeans and cropped white shirt.

“Bucky wanna dance with me the shuffles gonna be on.” She says

“No. No thanks nat.”

“You promised me a dance last year.” She smiles

“Yeah well we didn’t have a party last year did we?” Bucky says annoyed.

“James ple-“ she starts

“Don’t call me that and get lo-“ he begin only for you to cut him off

“James.”

He looks at you.

Nat takes her hand off him he relaxes.

“Wanna show me the barn? I’d um…I’d like to see the pigs.” You say he huffs and nods getting up to full height towering over nat.

“Come on doll.” He say leaving his beer. You get up as well he holds out his hand to you you glance back at the girl her friends now gathering. You take it in yours following him out.

———-

Bucky leans against the barn wall arms crossed making him look larger than before.

“So pigs? We don’t got pigs.” He says you giggle and nod.

“I know. It’s just. You looked awfully uncomfortable with her you know her well?” You ask he nods in reply as you look down kicking around a loose rock.

“We dated for 2 months after my dad passed. She’s a real….Real, peice of work.” He says taking his hat off about to hang it up on the side while running his fingers through his hair.

“Can I see?” You ask seeing his hat holding out ur hands.

“Mm” he replies handing it to you see the scores black leather with a metal peice around the base. You put it on and it dosnt sit quite right as his head is bigger that urs.

“Howdy.” You say lowering your voice tucking your thumb into you pocket to mimic Bucky. He chuckles rolling his eyes.

“The names Bucky doll im the town heart throb and I’m super strong and ignore everyone except y/n.” He chuckles standing up from his relaxed posture.

“I ain’t gonna dance shuffle with no girl becuase I’m a dark horse. Ooh!” You mimic before almost falling but he catches you keeping you up. Chest to chest.

He tilts the hat up to see ur eyes.

“Th-thanks.” You say his blue eyes boring holes into you.

The space between you closes with his lips on yours. Before he can pull away again you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer to your he inhales as his arms pull you in by your waist.

Walking you back. Your back hits the wall of the barn as his hands explore your waist. You hands find his hair pulling gently at the locks leaving a grunt to leave his lips.

“BUCKY!?” You hear someone fainting yelling his name. You can feel the frown on his face before he pulls away.

“BUCK!?” The voice gets closer printing him to pull away. And turn his head to see Steve running into veiw drenched in something.

“SHES GON WILDE NAT IS DESTROYING THE BAR.” He exclaims Bucky immediately leaves you and his hat and rushes out with Steve.

Running into the back nat is holding a crow bar smashing it across the bar table and legs causing beer and glass to spill everywhere. People run out others try to stop her. Slipping in liquid or almost getting hit by the winging crowbar.

“NATASHA! STOP!” Bucky yells at her.

You run in seeing her destroying everything bucks dad had worked for. She picks up a chair throwing it at bottle cabinet making everything fall and crash to the floor.

She turns rage filling her only to se you wearing buckys hat.

She grabs a bottle and chucks it at you you shield your self with your arms which the bottle smashes against casing you to fall.

“THATS ENOUGH!” Bucky says grabbing the swinging crowbar in his left hand the metal against the crowbar ringing when it hits his hand. With his other he grips nat by her hair pulling her to the entry of the bar the crowbar in his o th we hand as she squeals in pain by his grip. The Barr doors open revealing four police men who were called erlier

They immediately take her from Buck in hand cuffs dragging her out screaming he drops the crowbar and hurries to you where your sister and Steve already are.

“F-fuck.” You whine as blood pours from your arm shards of glass sticking out of it.

PART 2

#bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #cowboy #Cowboy Bucky barnes #bucky smut #sebastian stan x you #bucky x female reader

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swan-of-sunrise · 2 years ago

Text

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part II)

Summary: In the wake of the announcement that John Walker would be the new Captain America, (Y/N) lends a patient ear to both Sam and Bucky, and an open-minded Steve gets an important and well-meaning lesson on modern forms of discrimination.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for a frank discussion of racism/bigotry

A/N: Writing more Sam and Bucky and their constant squabbling was so much fun, and it really did wonders counteracting how sad it was writing Steve’s emotions about Walker becoming Cap lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part II) May 2024 Rockport, Maine (Previous Chapter)

Two weeks later, (Y/N) was sitting alone on her wraparound porch and fiddling with Natasha’s old red hourglass-shaped belt buckle, her lost friend’s treasured memento unable to give her its usual sense of comfort as she listened to Sam talk. He’d filtered through a wide range of emotions in the days since Captain John F. Walker had been named the new Captain America – shock, anger, sadness, outrage – before finally settling on heartbreak. Seeing a white man with the same blonde hair, blue eyes and chiseled physique that the country had come to expect in their Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan did nothing short of break Sam’s heart and – although she was nowhere near a trained psychologist – she suspected that it only served to validate his intrusive imposter syndrome. She’d made it a point to call and check in on him every day since, and she was happy that her best friend hadn’t shut her out; just as he’d been there for her during so many difficult times in the past, she was giving him the strength and support that they both knew he needed.

“I decided not to watch that GMA interview that aired this morning,” Sam sighed over the phone. “I mean, why put myself through all that?”

“Believe me, you didn’t miss anything you couldn’t just find out with a quick Google search. The guy’s like a walking slice of plain white bread.” (Y/N) smiled to herself as her best friend snorted in amusement at her joke. “Scott was blowing up my phone throughout the entire thing; Walker had better watch himself, because he’s only been on the job for two weeks and he’s already got Ant-Man pissed off at him.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tic-Tac angry before and now I kinda don’t want to; all the shrinking and growing still freaks me out a little, and I haven’t forgotten how that little shit deactivated my wings like it was nothin’.” Their laughter faded away into a heavy silence that was eventually broken by Sam. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She frowned in confusion. “For what?”

“For not trying to convince me to talk to Steve about all this. I love the guy, I really do, but with all this that’s happened…it’s somethin’ that he can never really understand. Maybe he will someday, but it’s not up to either of us if he does or doesn’t.” Biting her lip, (Y/N) struggled to think of how best to respond to his statements but he continued on before she could say anything. “So, how’s everyone doing today? Enjoying the warm weather up there?”

“Well, Steve took Carina and Indy for a walk after the GMA interview, so it’s just me holding down the fort; I tried working a little on the first draft of my book but I couldn’t get Walker’s annoying mug out of my mind, so I decided to sit out here and give my best friend a call. What about you? How’s your search for these Flag Smashers going?”

A few days after the new Captain America was announced, Sam told her about the emergence of an anti-nationalist group that aspired to return Earth’s governments and society to how it was after the Snap and before the Battle of Earth: a united world without borders or patriotism that cared about helping each other in times of need. As someone who lived through those turbulent five years and who didn’t necessarily agree with everything the Global Repatriation Council was doing, their initial mission statement sounded appealing to (Y/N); however, their methods were violent and destructive and most concerning of all, they were comprised of suspected super-soldiers and possessed a replica of Doctor Erskine’s serum. An Air Force friend of Sam’s had a close call with the group in Switzerland and for the past two weeks, they’d both been tracking their whereabouts to try and apprehend them.

“Pretty good, actually. Torres managed to track them to Munich and Redwing picked up some aerial footage of their suspected base just outside of the city, so we’re flying out of D.C. at oh-nine-hundred.”

“In that case, I should probably let you go so you don’t miss your flight…” (Y/N) twisted the belt buckle around and around in her grasp and tried not to think about the last friend she’d said goodbye to before an important mission. “Good luck out there, Birdbrain.”

Sam chuckled and replied, “Thanks, Booksmart. I’ll give you a call as soon as I can, okay?”

They both said their goodbyes and after hanging up, (Y/N) sat back in her rocking chair and held her belt buckle to her chest as she closed her eyes. “Keep an eye on him for me, Nat.” Her eyes flew open when her phone rang again and she scrambled to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey, doll, it’s Bucky. Where the hell is Sam?”

(Y/N)’s shoulders sagged in sudden realization. “Oh, shit. I take it that you watched the GMA interview…”

“Yeah, I did, and it’s about time that he and I discussed how he just threw away that shield.” The super-soldier’s voice was filled with ire and she could hear his agitated pacing in the background. “I’m at your guys’ old place in D.C. but he’s not here, so I thought you might know where he’s at.”

“Bucky, none of this is going to change what’s happened-”

“Do you know how much it hurt to hear a total stranger sit there with that shield and call himself a brother to Steve? Do you have any idea how it feels to have Steve’s legacy tarnished by a guy who would’ve gladly kicked his pre-serum ass if we were back in the 40’s?”

Clenching her jaw in growing irritation, (Y/N) stood and started pacing across the porch. “Believe it or not, Bucky, I do. You think I didn’t try everything I could to get answers for what they did? It took threatening to go to the press for Senator Smith’s office to return my calls and when they finally did, I got an incredibly condescending explanation about what constitutes as government property. If I went any further than that, then I’d risk my family’s safety and privacy, so now I’m forced to sit by and watch a man who I know isn’t worthy of the shield parade around as Captain America while all those asshats on Capitol Hill congratulate themselves for preserving the so-called sanctity of a mantle that they’ve never understood.”

She could hear Bucky sigh. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to accuse you of not caring or anything. It’s just…that shield, Steve’s legacy…it means a lot to me. And to see Sam just throw it all away for no reason…”

“You want answers? Sam’s scheduled to fly out of Joint Base Andrews at 9 o’clock for an overseas mission, so if you want to talk to him then you’d better make it quick.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). I owe you one.”

“It’s no problem, but can you do me a favor and actually listen to what Sam has to say? He’s really been beating himself up over what’s happened, and you coming in hot with angry accusations isn’t going to make him or you feel better.”

“…Okay, okay, I’ll try. For you.” Bucky’s pacing slowed and she could tell he was weighing his words. “How’s Steve handling all this?”

(Y/N) leaned a hip against the porch railing and looked out at the gentle waves in the distance. “When I figure that out, I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I should probably let you go now; by the time I drive across D.C. and talk my way past the MP’s, it’ll be time for Sam’s flight to take off. I’ll call you soon, doll. Give Carina a kiss for me, okay?”

After they exchanged their goodbyes and she tucked her cell phone back into her pocket, (Y/N) looked down at the belt buckle in her hand and gave it a small smile. “Could you keep an eye on Bucky too while you’re at it, Nat? Something tells me that Sam won’t be traveling to Munich alone…”

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

“Dinner was delicious, sunshine,” Steve commented later that evening as they cleaned up the kitchen together; there was a mischievous twinkle in his azure eyes when he spared her a brief glance and continued drying the dishes she’d finished washing. “You know, you’ve come a long way from only knowing how to make spaghetti, tacos and scrambled eggs.”

Narrowing her eyes, (Y/N) playfully flicked some soapy dishwater at her chuckling husband. “This coming from the guy who used to boil all his food and who never touched hot sauce until he was ninety-seven.” They finished washing and drying the dishes in comfortable silence, and it wasn’t until after they checked on Carina fast asleep in her crib and made their way back out to the living room that she decided to bring up the subject of the new Captain America. “Sweetheart, if I ask you a question will you promise to give me an honest answer?”

Steve’s brow arched but he nodded all the same. “Of course. What is it?”

“What was going through your head when you saw the announcement naming John Walker as the new Captain America?”

They sat down on the couch and Steve’s hand automatically found hers, his thin fingers intertwining with hers as he considered her pointed question. “Honestly? For a split second there, I thought that I was seeing a ghost on the television screen.” (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in confusion and he continued. “When I was accepted into Project Rebirth and sent to Camp Lehigh, I joined an entire regiment of potential candidates and over the course of a week, we were ordered to complete training that would determine which one of us would be chosen as the SSR’s first test subject. Doctor Erskine made it pretty clear from the beginning that he wanted me, but Colonel Phillips was gunning for a guy named Gilmore Hodge.” He huffed out a quiet chuckle. “Talk about a horse’s ass. Hodge was a bully; he fought with the other guys in the barracks, he cheated during training to get higher scores and he hated that a woman was the one personally overseeing our training.”

“Wait a sec, was he the soldier that Peggy told me about once, the one she knocked onto his ass with just one punch?” Steve nodded and (Y/N) grinned appreciatively. “Peggy Carter was such a bad-ass. So, Walker reminds you of Hodge?”

“Mm-hmm, right down to the blonde hair and blue eyes. Everything I’d read or heard about him since paints him as the perfect soldier, and it was all summed up in that GMA interview this morning.” Steve bit his bottom and looked over at the wall beside their small piano. He’d spent their first month in Maine framing and hanging some of the sketches he’d completed over the years; scenes of his childhood in Brooklyn featuring his mother Sarah and Bucky, portraits of his fellow Howling Commandos and everyone he’d worked with at the SSR, doodles of the laid-back days spent with the Avengers and more drawings of (Y/N) throughout the years than she could count. Doctor Abraham Erskine’s portrait hung proudly towards the center of the wall, a place of honor for the man who changed Steve’s life in more ways than one, and Steve’s eyes softened a little as he continued. “Doctor Erskine came to the barracks to see me on the night before the scheduled procedure. He told me about the time Schmidt took an unfinished dose of the serum and how he became the Red Skull, but then he said something I don’t think I’ll ever forget: ‘The serum amplifies everything that’s inside, so good becomes great and bad becomes worse.’” His azure eyes flicked back over to (Y/N) while the corner of his mouth lifted into a humorless smile. “The second thought that ran through my head after seeing that broadcast was ‘Thank God that they didn’t get their hands on Erskine’s serum too.’”

Sensing his pensive mood, (Y/N) draped her legs over his lap so she could cuddle up against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “The government did what the government does best: purposefully overlooked the accomplishments of a Black man in favor of maintaining the status quo. It’s a tale older than America itself.”

“But…” Steve’s voice was filled with an uncertainty that she’d come to associate with him being a man out of time. “Sam was the one who decided to give the shield to the Smithsonian. Unless…did he mention if someone contacted him and convinced him to hand it over?”

“No, no one convinced him. Sam doesn’t talk about it much, but he suffers from something called imposter syndrome; it’s when you believe that you’re less capable than those around you, that any success you’ve had in your life is only the result of luck and that at the end of the day, you’ll be outed as a fraudster. Many, many people of all walks of life struggle with imposter syndrome but it particularly affects the BAME – Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic – community.”

The thumb that had been caressing her knee slowed as Steve carefully asked, “So, when Sam said that he felt like the shield belonged to someone else, what he really meant was that it belonged to someone who looked like me?”

(Y/N) nodded. “To you, you were only passing along a superhero name and a vibranium shield to the person you believed was meant to have them but to Sam, he was faced with accepting a mantle that reminded him of the atrocities of our country’s history and a future where he’d be the first and only Black man ever named Captain America. It’s a heavy burden to bear and in the end, Sam chose to put his well-being first.”

“I didn’t think that…I-I should’ve known…”

Sitting up, (Y/N) cupped Steve’s face and gently coaxed him to look at her, her heart breaking a little as she looked into his distraught eyes. “Sweetheart, none of this is your fault. You only did what you thought was right, and there’s no way that you could’ve known any of this on your own. Sam doesn’t blame you, so you shouldn’t go and start blaming yourself.” She gave him a sad sort of smile. “If only there were more people like you and Sam in the world…I guess I should count myself lucky that I have the both of you in my life.”

Her husband’s expression softened and he shook his head. “Nah, we’re definitely the lucky ones, baby.” His thumb and forefinger lightly grasped her chin and held her steady as he leaned forward to capture her lips in a loving kiss.

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

The next day, (Y/N) spent the morning and much of the afternoon on a conference call with Greg and the editors going over the first draft of Assemble: The Unabridged History of the Avengers and while a freshly-inspired Steve worked into the evening on the cover art, (Y/N) set up Carina’s playpen in the garage and kept an eye on her daughter while she worked up a sweat with their suspended punching bag. Her time with the punching bag was when she allowed herself to reflect on the nightmares she experienced as a result of her PTSD; they were usually memories of all the losses she’d suffered at the hands of Thanos, playing over and over on a constant loop in her mind, but exercising helped her acknowledge and slowly push through them.

While she was taking a quick water break and checking Carina for signs of sleepiness, her cell phone began to play the tell-tale tune of Sam’s ringtone. “You hear that, Cari? Uncle Sam’s calling!” The infant clapped her little hands together and (Y/N) grinned as she reached for her phone, but she arched a brow in surprise when she saw that it was actually a FaceTime request; with a shrug, (Y/N) answered and was met with the sight of Sam’s withdrawn face. “Sam? What’s wrong, Sam?”

“It’s probably easier to tell you what isn’t wrong,” Her best friend sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bucky and I went to Munich yesterday and got our asses handed to us by eight super-soldiers, he took me to Baltimore to meet an old man named Isiah Bradley and I got to learn that the Army once experimented on Black soldiers while trying to replicate the serum, Bucky got himself arrested because he missed a therapy session, and I was forced into an uncomfortable couple’s counseling session with Mr. Stares-A-Lot himself.”

“Wow, that was…a lot.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting your workout, (Y/N), but after the day I’ve had, I just really needed to see a friendly face.” Sam’s expression relaxed when he caught sight of Carina playing with her stuffed white wolf. “Two friendly faces, actually. How you doin’, cutie-pie?”

“Say ‘hi’ to Uncle Sam, lemon drop.” (Y/N) helped the infant wave her chubby hand at the screen and grinned when her best friend chuckled. “Hey, that got you to smile! Did you want to talk about it?”

Sam shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m too tired to go through it all again.”

Before (Y/N) could reply, Bucky appeared from behind Sam and gave her a half-wave. “Nice to see you again, doll. Is Samuel here tellin’ you all about my time in the slammer?”

“Bucky, are you all right?” She ignored the glares that both men were shooting one another and waved her hand in front of the camera to grab their attention. “Hey, if you guys stop doing that weird macho shit, you’ll realize I asked you a question.” Carina let out a particularly loud coo and (Y/N) glanced over at her with an apologetic smile. “Yes, Cari, that was a bad word that Mommy shouldn’t have said, but your uncles are driving Mommy insane right now.” She looked back at the screen and raised a pointed brow. “How are you feeling, Bucky?”

“Well, I feel better,” Sam interrupted as they walked out onto a sidewalk.

Bucky sighed in annoyance. “I feel awful, (Y/N), but thanks for asking.”

A police car’s siren blared through the phone’s speaker, ending as soon as it began but replaced with a familiar boastful voice. “Gentlemen! Good to see you again.” Instead of hanging up the FaceTime, Sam switched to a normal phone call after exchanging a look with Bucky and although (Y/N) was confused by his action, she listened closely as they approached John Walker. “Who were you talking to? Your girlfriend?”

“My best friend, actually. She was checking in on me, but she had to go.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), right?” (Y/N)’s brows rose in surprise but she remained silent, mindful that the phone was on speaker. “I’ve studied the files of all the Avengers in preparation for taking up the mantle, in case I ever have to work alongside them. I sent her an email, you know, giving her my condolences and asking for her personal blessing to carry Steve’s shield, but I guess it must’ve gotten lost somewhere ‘cause I never heard back.”

“That’s because I sent that unopened email directly into the goddamn trash,” She muttered under her breath and heard Bucky cover his snort of amusement with a small cough.

“Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance and you guys know that.”

Sam sighed. “So, what do you got?”

“Well, the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.”

A new voice spoke up, and (Y/N) quickly recognized it as belonging to Lemar Hoskins, Walker’s partner known as Battlestar to the public. “They geo-tagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.”

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of those camps.”

Bucky snorted in derision, and (Y/N) could very-well imagine him rolling his eyes in plain view of Walker. “Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since the Blip, so I guess you’ll have to look real hard.”

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?”

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?”

“No, we don’t know, Bucky. It’s only a matter of time before we find out.”

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?”

(Y/N) listened to the heated exchange between Bucky and Walker with growing concern, and she was thankful when Sam interrupted them before they could escalate. “Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them, but you guys have rules of engagement and all kinds of authorization you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible, so it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.”

There was a moment’s pause before Walker replied, “A word of advice, then: Stay the hell out of my way.”

She could hear footsteps walking down the street and after a minute, the phone call was switched back to FaceTime and she saw Sam and Bucky’s concerned faces on the screen. “So, what do you think of the new Captain America?”

“I think that you two need to be careful around him,” (Y/N) answered honestly, perching herself on the garage’s workbench and shaking her head. “Something seems off with him. I mean, ‘targeting civilians’ was concerning enough, and then he basically threatened you both when you wouldn’t agree to work with him? I don’t know about either of you, but I’m even more grateful that he doesn’t have the serum than I was before.”

“Yeah, me too. Speaking of the serum, it looks like we’ll have to start there if we wanna gather more intel on these Flag Smashers.” Sam glanced over at Bucky walking beside him. “What are you thinkin’?”

“Well, I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said ‘my people’-”

“Oh, don’t take that to heart, that’s not what he meant.”

“No, he meant Hydra.” At Bucky’s statement, (Y/N)’s jaw dropped as she slowly realized what he was intending on doing. “Hydra used to be my people.”

Sam scoffed at Bucky’s implication. “Not a chance.”

“Walker doesn’t have any leads-”

“I know where you’re going with this, no.”

“He knows all of Hydra’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?” Bucky shot an imploring look at (Y/N). “C’mon, doll, back me up here.”

(Y/N) bit her lip and carefully thought their less-than-ideal situation over. “It sounds like you don’t have much of a choice in the matter, but you need to make sure you’re mentally prepared to face him again. I remember Siberia, Bucky, but I also remember how he took control of you in Berlin.”

Sam looked over at Bucky with concern in his dark brown eyes. “So, you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?”

“…Yes.”

With a slow nod, her best friend glanced between the super-soldier beside him and his phone screen. “Okay, then. We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

Despite the seriousness of their situation, (Y/N) couldn’t contain her huff of laughter. “Look at you two, already starting to work together like a team. Keep it up and you’ll figure all of this out in no time. Hey, maybe you’ll even end up becoming real friends!”

“You’ve got some imagination, doll; it’s no wonder why Steve fell head over heels for you,” Bucky remarked but managed to give her a half-smile. “Take care while we’re gone, okay?”

“I’ll give you a call as soon as we know more about what we’re dealing with.” Her best friend’s assured tone and the look of determination that was written across his features helped to ease some of her worry for the pair, and he smiled a little when she finally nodded. “We’ll see you soon, Booksmart.”

“Good luck, Birdbrain,” (Y/N) replied and when the FaceTime ended, she sighed and stared at her concerned reflection in the phone’s screen. “And stay safe.” She pocketed her phone and lifted Carina out of her playpen, giving the giggling infant a kiss on the forehead and tickling her stomach before handing her the stuffed white wolf. “You’re absolutely right, lemon drop. Your uncles are going to be okay because they’ve got each other’ backs. C’mon, let’s go check on Daddy and make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep on one of his easels again…”

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

A/N: The next chapter takes place in Delacroix, so buckle up for more angst and shenanigans! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

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

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part III)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Stumblin’ In Book I: “The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

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

#stumblin' in #steve rogers x reader #post serum steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #post serum steve rogers #sam wilson #falcon #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #john walker #captain america #lemar hoskins #battlestar #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america and the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #steve rogers x f!reader

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thorniest-rose · 1 year ago

Note

i think my biggest problem with the way fandom likes to police transformative works is how any morally dubious thing they spot is treated as if you walked up to their fav character in real life and did that thing to a real human. the outrage is so dramatic and personal! how dare you do that to my best friend the fictional character steve harrington! and when these people get their way it turns all art into the most boring, robotic, therapy talk bullshit stories with zero conflict, you may as well not fucking read it at all. it genuinely RUINS art, the way art is supposed to be and feel, and ironically it makes these characters seem almost non-human in their lack of mess

this is exactly it. "makes these characters seem non-human in their lack of mess" is such an incredible way of putting it. Like I love the Steddie fandom and all the amazing writers and creators, but a problem with modern fandoms in general is that it's so hard to find fics or pieces of writing where the characters are flawed, or do shitty things, or where they're even unlikeable at times. It's hard to find provocative writing that pushes boundaries and isn't afraid to be uncomfortable. It's like so much fic has to be feel-good or just faux edgy. And I'm not saying I'm above that, I've definitely watered myself down in the past because I'm scared of being ostracised for what I want to write. I understand why people want feel-good fic, because it's fantasy and escapism, and why a lot of people want to be accepted by fandoms so they have a sense of community. But I do think we've lost a lot of variety in fic over the past few years, and it's because people are scared of scrutiny and judgement, and big accounts pushing their weight around and calling them out.

And you're completely right. It represses freedom of expression and it censors art. And fandoms become mini police states where a chosen few dictate what's acceptable and what isn't, and if you dare write anything dark or complex or uncomfortable, then you're an awful person who obviously condones terrible things in real life. I'm sorry, what is the point of writing and of making art then?? If we all have to write the same things or else be completely ostracised, what's the point of creating at all?? I'm sick of it, and I think anyone who says "you shouldn't write this and if you do, you're disgusting" is a huge red flag and shouldn't be part of a community space like a fandom. But I refuse to be cowed and frightened away because I've been through this all before, and I'll keep writing and creating and I won't go away, because actually my writing means a lot more than the shitty opinions of a few sad, insecure people who shout loudly and try to control how the larger fandom behaves.

#asks

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atlasscrumpit · 2 years ago

Text

Steve/Tony x reader

(Evil Bucky)

Steve had gotten an odd letter.

It was from Bucky apparently.

"Steve, what's that?" Tony asked, walking up to Steve.

"I got a letter, it says it's from Bucky. I haven't seen him since he almost killed me." Steve muttered, surely it wasn't from Bucky.

"It says he wants me to come visit him. That he needs to apologise for somethings." He muttered as Tony looked over the letter.

"That surely can't be real." Tony muttered as Steve closed his eyes and sighed.

"Oh, it's definitely a trap. But maybe we should go check it out anyway. Get the team together." Tony suggested as Steve nodded.

"Hydra has to be behind this. Friday, call a team meeting."

"Oh, Y/N!" You heard Bucky sing out as you watched him enter his bedroom where you were cleaning.

You would've responded to him, but Bucky made sure a long time ago that you couldn't speak, wiring your jaw shut did the job.

"I have a friend coming over for dinner tonight, do you think you could be a wonderful girl for me and make dinner?" He asked, running his hand over your cheek as you smiled and nodded.

"Good girl."

Hours passed and you had cooked up a large dinner, Bucky said he wasn't sure how many people there would be.

You heard a knock at the door and made your way over to open it.

It was only Steve and Tony there, the rest of the team were positioned elsewhere.

You bowed to them and gestured for them to enter.

"Thank you." Steve said as you smiled and nodded.

"Well, there's the guests of the evening. Tony, I hope we can put out past behind us for this evening." Bucky said, walking up and shaking their hands.

"Bucky, it's really you." Steve muttered as Bucky smiled.

"Come on, punk. Would I ever lie to you?" Bucky said as Steve and Tony shared a glance.

"Come on in, my dear Y/N has made a lovely dinner." Bucky said as they followed him further into the mansion.

They saw a table set out for dinner.

Steve kept glancing at you, you tried your best to not look at him.

They all sat down and began to talk while you stood beside Bucky and did whatever he needed, like filling up his glass or dishing up for food.

Steve would still watch you closely every now and then.

Once they were finished with their meal you cleared the dishes.

"Do you mind if Tony and I talk for a moment?" Steve asked as Bucky smiled and nodded.

"Of course, I'll be in the kitchen helping Y/N." Bucky said, leaving them both.

"I've noticed a few things." Steve muttered as Tony looked at him in shock.

"A few? This entire place is a fucking red flag, Rogers." Tony growled making Steve sigh.

"There's something about Y/N. I haven't once seen her talk or even open her mouth. Something is seriously wrong here." Steve muttered as Tony groaned.

"I've watched horror movies, we probably just ate a person." Tony growled as Steve rubbed his head.

"Let's just see how this ends, we have provisions. I'm more worried about Y/N." Steve replied making Tony nod.

You and Bucky returned, you brought out some chocolate cake for them and more whiskey.

"Is Y/N your employee?" Tony asked as Bucky glared at him.

"Yes, she is if you must know." Bucky grumbled as Steve looked at him with suspicion.

"And she lives with you here?" Steve asked, before Bucky's face changed into a fake happiness.

"She does, of course. She happy here, poor dear is mute though. I rescued her from Hydra. Anyway, on with other things."

The night dragged on as Steve and Tony asked question upon question.

They didn't know what his end game was, neither did you.

"So, why did you invite us here? You're...different of course, but something seems off. What's your motive?" Steve asked, crossing his arms and getting into his Captain stance.

"Oh, come on, Cap. Can't a guy just invite his best friend over for dinner?" Bucky said, Steve noticed the comms had been quiet for a while.

"But, I'm disappointed you don't trust me." Bucky said as he snapped his fingers, the door burst open and the avengers were dragged in unconscious by Bucky's henchmen.

You backed up against Bucky as he grabbed your arms and chuckled.

"Don't be afraid, little Dove." He whispered as you nodded.

"Sorry, Steve. Didn't mean to ruin your plan." He said before Steve and Tony were knocked out.

"Go finish cleaning up then get to bed, sweet girl. I need to handle some things." Bucky said as you nodded and quickly rushed away to the kitchen, you were glad to be away from him.

You finished up and laid in your large bed.

Bucky was a monster and abusive, but he was nice enough to give you your own room and bed.

You were exhausted from today and quickly fell asleep.

You were woken up at about 3am hearing screams as you gasped and woke up.

You wrapped your coat around yourself and ventured out of your room.

You followed the noise to the old ballroom and saw Bucky torturing Steve.

You inhaled sharply and Bucky looked at you.

"Doll, I told you to go to sleep. Back to bed." He said as Steve looked at you with a bloodied face, making you stare back at him.

"Y/N, don't make me repeat myself. Unless you'd like to end up like Steve." Bucky growled as you looked back up at him and quickly ran away back to your room.

You quickly buried yourself under the covers and tried to block out the screams.

After about an hour you felt someone pull your sheets back as you looked up and saw Bucky.

He was luckily cleaned off from all the blood.

He crawled into your bed and you moved over for him.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"Babygirl, I'm sorry I yelled, I just don't like you seeing when I have to carry out my business." Bucky said as you nodded and cuddled into him.

You couldn't talk and he knew your way of apologising was to nuzzle into him.

"Get some rest, babygirl."

You woke up the next morning seeing Bucky wasn't with you.

You had a wicked idea you knew would get you in trouble.

But you needed to see Steve.

You needed to see the team, you hated knowing they were down there being tortured.

You put your coat around yourself and snuck downstairs.

You went to the ballroom again and saw the team beaten up and handcuffed.

Steve looked up and made eye contact with you.

"Y/N." He whispered as you went further into the room.

"Who the hell is she?" Nat grumbled as you looked at them all.

"Y/N. You can help us. These hand cuffs are making us all too weak to fight back. Bucky has the key in his pocket at all times. You're the only one who can get close." Steve said as you looked down at your feet and thought.

You didn't know what you were thinking but you nodded your head, making him smile.

You snuck back outside and to the kitchen to where Bucky was.

"I have a lot of things to do today, sweetheart. You remember what we do on days where I have business?" Bucky asked as he ran his hand over your cheek.

You suddenly leapt forward and hugged him tightly making him chuckle.

"Needed some affection, baby?" He asked as you nuzzled into him and gently reached into his pocket.

You kept it in your hand before pulling away.

"Get some breakfast, love." He said before walking away.

You sighed in relief before Bucky began to pat down his pockets.

"Love? Something you wanna admit?" Bucky grumbled as you looked up at him and backed away, shaking your head.

"So, you wouldn't mind opening your hand." He said backing you against the kitchen bench.

You felt tears in your eyes before you handed the key back to him and lowered your head.

He grabbed you by your throat making you cry softly before he gripped your hair and dragged you down the hallway.

"Looks like you want to end up in the same position as my friends." He growled before you made it to the ballroom and he threw you inside, making you fall to your knees.

"I'll be back, angel. Why not get aquatinted before i come back and beat the shit out of you?" He growled before storming away.

"Y/N, I'm sorry." Steve said as you quickly got up and pulled a key out of your pocket.

You knew Bucky would catch you so you stashed a similar key in your pocket before seeing Bucky, so you could grab the real one and get thrown in here.

You began to unlock everyones handcuffs as quick as you could.

Once you were done Steve helped you off the floor.

"Come on, let's get you out of here." He said before you shoved him off you and backed away, shaking your head.

"Y/N, it's okay. I know you're afraid to leave, but you'll be safe with us." Steve said as you breathed heavily.

Tony came closer to you as you looked up at him.

"I know you've grown accustomed to how he treats you. But, I also know you're just surviving, you're not living." Tony whispered as he cautiously reached forward and ran his hand over your cheek.

"We can keep you safe." He whispered as you nodded a little.

"Now, let's get out of here."

—

You were in the back of a car on the way back to the city.

Bucky was being taken into custody by shield, you'd gotten a few bruises and cuts but you were alive.

Tony was beside you while Steve drove and Nat sat in the front.

He handed you a piece of paper and a pen as you looked at him in confusion.

"Can you write?" He asked as you nodded and wrote down yes making him chuckle.

"Can you tell me why you can't speak?" Tony asked as you began to write and then handed it back to him.

"Wire?" Tony muttered as he looked at Steve through the rear view mirror.

"Your jaw is wired shut?" Tony whispered sadly as you nodded.

"Jesus Christ." Nat muttered as Tony held your face again and looked at you.

"We have a really good doctor, sweetheart. We'll get this sorted out. Can I ask why it's wired shut?" Tony asked before you began writing again.

You handed it to him again as he felt his heart stop.

"You were too loud when he would hurt you." He whispered as you nodded again.

"Sweetheart." Tony whispered as he slowly leant forward and hugged you.

You nuzzled into him, feeling safe in his arms.

"Let's get you home."

#Marvel #Mcu #Tony Stark x reader #Tony stark #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve rogers #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #Avengers #Avengers x reader #Dark bucky Barnes #The winter soldier

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agirlwholovesrockstars · 1 year ago

Text

If you don't know me by now

☆AGATHA'S MASTERLIST☆

☆ EDDIE MUNSON'S MASTERLIST ☆

summary : you're a popstar and your school Hawkins High invited you to come over to host an event and you're their special guest and you take relationships very seriously, that's why you don't do dates quite often because you only want to settle for the one and that is Eddie, you got curious about him since you always fancy rockstars

word count : it's not gonna be long, I promise 🤞🏻

warnings : 18+ Shy!Eddie Munson x FEM!reader, language, no use of y/n but reader is Agatha hehe (I really want to have a rockstar bf like Eddie in the future 🫠 let me have my moment here lmao) establishing a relationship, reader and Eddie are both 20, reader having period and dysmenorrhea, Eddie is a little insecure in this, that's just it!

what to expect : 100% fluff, a super cute fic- I swear to god hahaha

note to reader : Eddie Munson is literally my type of a guy 🥹🫶🏻 I always stress about the fact he is truly a goddamn walking green flag, I wanted to write a fic about Eddie that he is amazingly the best boyfriend that you could ever ask for! so yeah, that's like I'm kinda using my own name in here, call me delusional or whatever lol but he is all I ever wanted! too bad he's just a fictional character 🥲

author note : I've never read a fic that is FEM!reader who has intense dysmenorrhea and us ladies like that need a representation hehe I have TOO MANY FIC IDEAS just sit tight and see my other stuff in the making ;))

You've been on tour for 3 years and your parents are so pleased of you

by pursuing your dreams and working hard

You're determined, consistent and you faced so many obstacles in your career

you join opportunity that lays on you, once it's on there you never missed it, you auditioned, you practiced every single song, you keep improving your talent and skills

One thing you don't do is to never quit and to never stop once you finally had it

You always loved singing and it's the reason why you're still alive, it's what keeps you going

Music is your life

Without it, you don't know what you would do

ever since when you're a kid, your parents are always supportive and giving you boost to accomplish your goals

You loved to sing your heart out and that is all you ever wanted to do in your life is just to sing and perform

You also have a few genuine true bestfriends from the school that you studied, Hawkins High

Steve & Robin

Max, Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Erica, Will, Jonathan, Argyle, El and Nancy.... you like bonding with them but you and Steve & Robin are much more close

Hawkins, Indiana is your hometown, it's your birthplace, your childhood memories are in there

But the time when your singing career got skyrocketed, you and your family moved to Los Angeles

Your last concert has officially over, your manager Alex passed an envelope from your school, Hawkins High

Your eyes sparkle with excitement, you speedily open up the letter and read what it says

"Hi Agatha, will be having you as our special guest in Hawkins High for our school program this coming Friday, we are thrilled to have you."

You squealed in exhilaratingly while jumping in the process as you place the letter against your chest with a big smile on your face

"I believe it's about your hometown? Isn't it?" Alex says while she takes a sip of her coffee

"Oh! Yes it is! Alex!" You grinned at her and you paced back and forth inside your tour bus and obviously you couldn't wait for it

"Calm your heart down, sweetie" Alex puts down her cup on the coaster while she became apprehensive from your overjoyed discomposure

She kinda regrets showing the letter to you now

you sigh with a breathy laughter "Aw, I'm so sorry, Alex" you smile

"It's just that it's been so long, I missed my family, my friends" you chuckled a little bit as you remembered your memories with your friends

"Good thing, it's your vacation, you can do whatever you want after that" Alex while she looks over to your schedule

Alex is like your big sister, she is so protective of you, she acts very serious but once she loosen up, she is so fun to hang out with, you also chose her to be your own manager, your parents treat her as a part of the family

You sat down on the bunk bed "You could do whatever you want too" you say while you're trying to look at her eyes

she turns around to face you from the small coffee table "you know, I can't do that, right?"

"You sure you can, you just won't stop and try to take a break for awhile like all you do is work!" you straighten up and went for the small refrigerator and grab your pistachio ice cream pint

A small smile tugs at her lips while she thinks deeply "I feel like you're right"

"Well, of course, I'm right" you scoffed and shake your head while you search for a clean spoon

The silverware clangs as you look for one utensil

"What about you? don't you want to get out of the comfort zone and start dating?"

The cold dessert sends glacial through your mouth and it caused brainfreeze

Your face crumpled up while chewing at the pistachio bits from the ice cream

She snickers while watching you and you roll your eyes at her

"You know the reason why I can't just date like that- what if he isn't the one?!?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know that, hmmm" she places her index finger on her chin as she thinks again

You squint your eyes at her while you're scooping the ice cream

"How about we make a deal?"

It made you stop yourself by eating your favorite ice cream as you listen to her carefully

"Once you're in Hawkins Indiana, you'll date someone and I'll be traveling the places that I badly wanted to go, what do you say?"

You nod slowly "I'll say it's a deal then" you extend your arm out to shake hands in agreement

"But one condition, if you don't do what exactly as I said, I'll resign as your manager" she saids jokingly

You jeered on her "in your dreams, Alex" you say as you both shake hands

"Welcome To Hawkins" it says on the roadside

10am is the call time in your school

You've taken a bath, you fixed your hair, you did your makeup

You chose a dark brown polo blouse with black coat and bell bottom and you wear black boots

"Ah! I couldn't wait to see everybody!" You say as you sit down on the passenger seat

"I just know this is going to be awesome" Alex says as she taps her fingers on the steering wheel

"Why do you say that?"

"Nothing, I'm just awating at the anticipation that you're probably the first one going to lose at the deal"

You chortled while putting mascara on your eyelashes "We will see, don't we? Alex?"

Alex parked the tour bus and you ran quickly outside the vehicle

You inhale the summer breeze while closing your eyes for a moment

"Agatha?" someone called you out, you knew who's raspy voice coming from

You open your eyes and you saw Robin waving at you while bouncing up and down

"Robin!" You ran towards her almost knocking her off the ground

She laughs "I missed you too!"

"Where's Steve?" You say in muffled sound

"I'm right here" you pulled back from Robin and see Steve walking towards beside at the both of you

"Steeeeeeve!" Your eyes flickering with so much happiness in them

"I miss you like crazy" Steve says while hugging you

You pulled back while you're chuckled of how you acted seeing them again "I miss you guys so much!"

"Look at you now!" Robin excitedly says as she looks over to your tour bus

"Our little star became the shiniest ever!" Steve says and he booped your nose with his index finger and you giggled

"I'm on my vacation! We can whatever the hell we want!" You smile lopsidedly

"I like the sound of that" Robin smirks to Steve

"Best believe we'll be there" Steve says while throw his arm around your shoulder as they gave you a tour inside of Hawkins High

You eyes roam around the school hallways and you look over to your locker that you used before

There's a lot of changes and new renovations but it still feels the same

Robin nauseated in disgust "Ew- do you remember the time when Jason Carver is so head over heels with Agatha?" her face scrunches up

You groaned "He's not my type and I turned him down politely" you shrug

"He shouldn't been had given the kindness, he is a scumbag!" Steve throw his hands up

You laughed with them and something that caught your eye

Steve and Robin voice became a blur to you

A metalhead cutely smiles at the picture proudly raising his guitar on the school wall

You read the name of his band "Corroded Coffin" with 2 more unknown boys on the bottom, you assume that his bandmates

Your heart begins to race and you didn't even noticed that you're looking at it for hours

"Who is that?" You point at the picture

Steve & Robin stopped talking for a moment as they followed your gaze

"Oh, that's Eddie Munson" Steve places his hands over his hips and he mischievously grin

Robin smirks and they both know what's your type of a guy and you're so dead "We got a crush on the horizon!"

It made you tear your eyes away from the picture and you squeeze your eyes shut

You facepalmed and you put your hand over your mouth

Both of your bestfriends shared high-five right in front of your face

And you knew this would be so fucking unpleasant

The whole school gymnasium is packed loaded filled with a lot of students

Max and everyone is on the backstage

"I just don't get it why you don't date?" Max trying to look at your eyes while you giving yourself last few touches

"It's because, Maxine" you say in a sing song and made her roll her eyes at you

You know she doesn't like to be called like that

"I want a boy that who genuinely loves me! I don't wanna settle for someone who is an asshole" you say as you put back your black coat on

"She got hot shots for our boy, Eddie" Robin snickers

"Oh, do you now!" Dustin grins

Mike, El, Lucas, Jonathan, Argyle, Will, Erica, and Nancy started clamoring

"What qualities do you want from a boy exactly?" Will asks

"kind, caring, supportive, always there for you when times get tough, never fails to make you feel loved and just the perfect man ever" you let your hands fell down on your sides

"I know what I said is too good to be true because I-I know men like that doesn't exist I'm like writing a fictional character" you let out humorless laugh

"Eddie is the answer to your dreams, Agatha" Lucas nudges you with a giddy smile

You got confused "What do you mean?"

"Eddie is kind" El says to you

"He is caring" Mike smirks

"Number one supporter for real!" Erica says

"he's the one who will be there for you" Dustin grins

"He is truly the man won't stop showering you love and compliments" Nancy added

"In conclusion, the best man ever" Steve says as he fist bump to Dustin

"Why are you guys telling me this?"

"It's because he's the one that you're looking for!" Jonathan exclaims

"He has the greatest weed, man" Argyle is obviously high and you shake your head with a smile

"Eddie is our friend even we don't knew him that much but judging by his actions? He is a good dude" Dustin says trying to convince you

Your heart grows bigger and you try not to smile

The conversation went for a brief silence

The principal announced your name and your friends cheered for you

"Eddie might be watching you" Steve teasing you

"Oh, stop it, Steve!" You push him playfully

You grab the mic and greeted the audience

You winced at your friends for being so loud at the backstage and you laugh

"Deep Purple by Black Dog" instrumental starts playing

You started singing and the whole crowd was just in awestruck by your stage presence

You feel happy but also at the same time stress by your friends teasing you about your feelings with Eddie

Much to your dismay, Eddie overheard a lot shouts of joy and he stopped and looked over the gymnasium door window

Of course, he will halt his tracks as he heard the familiar voice and the band instrumental playing

He is shocked and almost collapsed that Gareth and Jeff help him back up to his feet

He grew weak just by seeing you in singing and he always loved you and hearing your powerful voice

You didn't know he has also have feelings for you

"Woah, are you okay- o-ooh- Holy shit!" Jeff jumps in excitement

"Is that Agatha?" Gareth eyes widen while he holding Eddie back up not looking at him

Eddie does not say anything as he pushes the gymnasium doors as he enters inside

His heart might explode anytime soon as he watches you closely

Gareth and Jeff gave each other's knowing looks as they both know how Eddie worships you in secret

even Eddie isn't vocal about it but they knew his about his infatuation with you

at the autograph table, Gareth and Jeff pushed Eddie with your picture on the line

Eddie made a perplexed expression on his friends but he followed them anyways

He wanted to back out as soon he became closer and closer to you

You haven't seen him yet on the line, you're so caught up from all the sweetest messages from your fans

"Oh no, I'm next" he thinks to himself

"Uh- hi?" he spoke, grunting softly how his voice shakes

He sounded so nervous he hates it

You're still signing and you raise your head and back down and back up again your eyes widened

You made a double look at him "it's him" you think to yourself

You're both staring at each other what it feels like forever

Your eyes softens as you stare at him longer "he looks so beautiful up close" you think to yourself

"Just act cool, Munson" he keeps reminding himself ignoring the fact that you're fucking staring at him like he's some kind of a celebrity

The girl he has a crush on is smiling at him

"Hi, Eddie!" You say enthusiastically your excitement to finally see him in person is clearly unshielded and that made him so extremely confused

"You know me?" He points to himself, he is so dumbfounded and you're enjoying this

"Yeah"

"Cool" a smile grows on his lips as he scratched the back of his neck exposing his muscles on his arms

You gasp softly at the sight of it and you drew your attention away from it before you could do anything that is embarrassing you saw his shirt, it says "Hellfire Club"

"You love to play games?" You motioning to his shirt

"Y-yeah, I do, you know D&D?" He clears his throat

"I do, but I still struggle to understand it though" you shrug

A light bulb comes to his mind "I-I could teach you" he smiles sheepishly

Your crush being so shy to you is so cute "I'd love that"

"You w-will?" His smile reaches to his cheeks

You nod and you give the autographed picture of yours

"I will also love to hear you play"

Eddie could just kiss you right away, he couldn't believe his own crush, knew about his existence and his band?

You're the girl that he wants ever since you moved on from another town so soon

"The Hideout" he says plainly

You tilt your head at him and he realizes "I mean, that's the place we perform"

"Oh" you giggled "I'll be there to cheer you on" you wink at him

Your smile and your laughter is music to his ears

"You better go over there before your friends tease you" you jerk your head on the side and Eddie saw Gareth and Jeff clearly controlling their sniggering as they both watch you

He blushes and ducks his head down shyly

"My god, this man is so adorable, I could scream" you think to yourself

"You should come over at my place, I'm having a reunion party going on" you say not making it sound desperate that you want to have him forever

His lips apart at the thought that you're inviting him? He would die for you right now

"S-sure, I'll be there" he grins at you and walks away fast

His cheeks were on hot fire

You prop your arm up the table and rest your chin on your hand as you sigh

You're falling in love so hard with the cutest metalhead you ever laid eyes on

Alex saw the whole thing "I knew it was you" she squeezes your shoulder

You groan while signing the next picture "it was worth it, are you happy now?"

"I am" Alex smiles to herself while she crosses her arms

You thanked everyone and thanked the school staff

You expressed your gratitude and appreciation for everyone who came

You and Alex and your friends headed out towards the exit

You stretch out and immediately folded slightly as you felt an intense pain, you're having abdominal cramps

"Are you doing good, Agatha?" Steve asks, eyeing you in concern

You take a deep breath "y-yeah, I'm good, I'm just exhausted, that's all"

"You should get some rest like you just recently got finished from your tour and did this and now you're going to host a party" Robin always rambles if she saw you in pain

when she rambles really wildly that means she is worried about you

"You guys, I'm fine, this is nothing" you say you wave them dismissively

You know, Steve & Robin won't believe you but they check on you as they can

"How come I didn't knew about Eddie?" You ask in curiosity

"I think for a short amount of time, you've met him while you're just rising up from your career" Steve says

"What? Really? I can't seem to recall it"

"Yeah, you take home your studies instead when you're conflicted with your schedule" Robin added

Even you don't remember it, Eddie never forgets the first time he saw you, you're the only one that he loves until now he didn't knew that he can bump into you again, it's so unbelievable to him, he thought he might never see you ever again because of how popular you are

You're at your house and everyone is in there

Loud music coming out from the speakers

No problem with the food and drinks cause' Argyle got it covered

Everyone is dancing and having a good time

You remove your coat and you're trying not to hold your stomach

You're experiencing dysmenorrhea at the moment but you always ignore the pain that you're having right now

Eddie came with his RV van and he is very nervous

He checks on himself rearview mirror like in the 100th time

He calms himself down while taking deep breaths

"You got this" he says to himself

He's wearing white polo unbottoned on the front with necklace chains hanging on his neck and black denim pants with his Reebok

Of course he would never leaves the house without his rings

He rangs the doorbell and you swing the door open

Your words caught up in your throat and Eddie does the same

You swallowed and chuckled nervously "Hi, Eddie! I'm so glad you came!"

You step aside and he says "Well, thank you for inviting me, my darling"

"My darling" you restrain a squeal you feel so many butterflies on your stomach

Everyone shoots knowing looks at you while they glance at Eddie

Steve, Jonathan, Argyle stole Eddie for a moment

You hissed on another hit of pain again on your stomach

You plastered a smile on everyone but Eddie notices it

You looked amazing but he knows something else is bothering you

Eddie is a good reader when some of his loved ones are distressed

Just by one look, he knows it, he just knows it

The party is doing well as you planned

When everyone is saying their goodbyes to you and hugged you

You want them to stay for more, it's not even that late yet but all of them are like wanting to come home immediately

Eddie is the one who is left behind, who is clueless and confused just like you

You saw Steve & Robin dragging Dustin ass out of your house and you heard their mischievous laughter

Oh, they're up to about something else

You shake your head at them as you watch Steve's car drove away

You suddenly feel nauseated, you cover your mouth and ran towards the bathroom and slam the door shut

You throw up and it feels like all of your insides is gone just how painful it is

This is what you hate when you're time of the month, you have extreme dysmenorrhea

You cancel appointments, meetings, or even shows, if you're having sickness like this

Eddie runs after you but he step outside when he heard the door slam with a bang

Eddie heard your vomiting and is now worried about you, he knocks on the door softly when he heard the water running

You flushed down the toilet and wash your mouth on the sink

You cleared your throat "Um- Eddie- I'm fine, you can go home"

You sound so sick, he can't leave you alone like this

"Are you sure?" He steps back when he saw the doorknob moving and you go outside of the bathroom

You almost fell but Eddie catches you, holding you tightly

"Woah there, sweetheart" he says while he checks on you

You looked so queasy and you bring yourself to look at him and to his hands on your waist

You blinked and he just stares at you

All you can see is care, he cares for you, he hopes that you'll trust him to take care for you

He is so gentle with you and your heart flutters more

Maybe, your friends we're right about him

You say "OW!" while you hold your stomach and Eddie put his arms over your shoulders as he brings you to sit down on the sofa

"Eddie, no- no- you have to go home, please, I'll be fine" you reassure him

"I can't go home if you're like this!" He whisper-shout

You feel fluid coming out from your private area and you rush towards the bathroom again

Eddie watches you and you shrieked

He doesn't think twice of coming after you again

"W-What happened? Are you okay? What is going on?" He asks his tone might be too loud or too high in worry he doesn't care at this point

You open the door a little and he tries to open it wider but you stopped him

His face crumpled up in puzzled expression as he tries understand what's going on

"I-I'm having my period and I don't have anything, I ran out" you winced of what you just blurted out

He saw the period blood droplets on the bathroom floor and your stained underwear

You got embarrassed as you quickly covered all of your clothes out of the way where he can't see it

"I'll be back" he says while he digs up his keys on his pocket

You thought he will be disgusted but he isn't "W-What?"

"What do you need?"

"Uh- 28cm sanitary pads with wings- um- that's all"

You're taken a back with his eye contact and he listens very carefully to you

You can tell he that really does care and it feels genuine

You've never met a guy like that and it made you love him even more

"Clean up and I'll be back in a flash, I promise, just wait for me, okay?"

"Okay" you say softly with a small smile

Eddie only knew about girls having period is normal, he isn't the type of a guy that acts like it's the worst thing ever

Yeah, it does hurts like hell but he doesn't horrid by it, because he knows it's the natural thing that woman reproductive system has....

He had no girl in his life or even in his family, this is the first time that he witnessed a girl having her period

He picked up so many advices from his uncle and his friends of what a girl wants and what a girl needs

Eddie stops over at the 24/7 hour store and he gulps of how many choices at the ladies section

But he picks the one you that asked for, he grabs more just in case, he also taken a note of how you bleed so badly, your heavy flow can't take just one only pad it could gush out of it

So he took the menstrual pants that costs a lot more than your usual pads but he doesn't mind it, the priority is to taking care well of you

He put in his cart some cool fever and balm oil for your aching stomach

He also grabs 3 ice cream pints, pistachio ice cream, cookies and cream, vanilla

He saw you eating those three ice cream flavors

He takes the white cheddar popcorn he saw you eating that as well tonight

He also orders chocolate mousse cake

He shoves everything on the passenger seat as he quickly turns on the engine and droves back to your place

It's been 30 minutes since Eddie left and you're in your bedroom and you're on your pajamas

A hot compress laying on top of your stomach, that soothes the pain a little but you can feel is still there

You heard Eddie came back and he calls out for you

You stand up still wincing at your stomach and you're limping towards at your door

"Eddie, I've been waiting for yo-" you paused when you saw Eddie carrying too many bags

"Are you feeling any better? I bought these!" He says with a cheeky smile while he raising the bags

He puts down everything that he got from the 24/7 store near to you

"I brought these because I-I've noticed how much you bled, I think you need these" he gives it to you

Your eyes glows so much admiration, your heart made a backflip of how thoughtful he is

"I also bought 3 ice cream pints!" Your eyes light up when you saw all of your favorites

"Aww, Eddie, this is so sweet" you say

He became flustered while he shakes his head shyly

"Well, I need to take care of my girl" he grins while he continues to show what he got for you

"My girl?" You raise your eyebrows "you never fail to make me fall in love with you, Eddie" you think to yourself

You watch him and you can't hear of what he says anymore

You appreciate everything of this

You smile in content and you finally found the one that you always been looking for

You're very certain of it

You excused yourself and you headed towards the bathroom

as soon as you walk out from the bathroom he asks "Doing alright?"

"Yeah, I feel much better, thank you"

"You know, I don't feel like I should leave, I could stay" he says, his guts tells him not to do it

You became light-headed as you stumbled back and Eddie manages to catch you again

You fainted right between his arms

"Nope, definitely not coming home just yet" Eddie says

He carried you towards your bedroom and places the hot compress over your stomach and he covers you with blanket

He saw on the bed side table that you already taken a medicine "Buscopan Venus"

He carefully rubs the balm oil on your forehead and you sigh comfortably

He admires your pretty face and how your eyelashes flutters while you're sleeping

He let his eyes wander around your room and he saw the guitar pick necklace that he gave to you before, before you left, his eyes became misty, you kept it after all this time

You woken up and the pain is now gone but you can feel all of your insides are grinding with such pain

The flow is coming out of you is real strong

You looked over to your side and you saw Eddie sleeping peacefully on the couch while he hugs a pillow

You change your position on the side as you taken a chance to look over at his features

"He is so handsome" you think to yourself

His curls touches his cheeks, you loved his scent, you look down on his chest you noticed some of his tattoos peeking out

You remove your blanket and get up and walk towards to him

You crouch down and you can't help but hold his cheek and you caressed your thumb softly not wanting to disturb his slumber

"I love you" you whispered

You smile and take a last look at him before you exit your bedroom

Eddie thought he might be dreaming he heard his crush says "I love you" he changed his sleeping position

You look over to your living room and all of the mess is gone

You chuckled slightly, Eddie cleaned up your house

You walked over the refrigerator and heard someone walking down the stairs

Eddie rubs his eyes and yawns "Goodmorning, what are you doing? why'd you get up?"

"For breakfast? and uh- goodmorning" you say while you grab the bottle of apple juice and placed it on the kitchen table

Eddie noticed something streaming down on your bottom and your period blood goes through straight to your pajama pants

"Honey, you're bleeding"

"What?" while you're holding the waffle batter

He gestures to your pants and you groaned and annoyingly

"Oh no"

"What?!"

You ran back up towards to your bedroom and you saw your bedsheets are now covered with period blood

"I knew it" you say as you remove the bedsheets

He tuts "I got this, clean up and I'll handle this"

"Eddie, you've done enough-" he cuts you off

"Let me take care of you, please" his pleading eyes convinced you otherwise

You sigh in defeat "Fine, the laundry is on the left side"

As you finished freshen up, Eddie is the one who cooked waffles to you

To your surprise, he is an excellent cook

Eddie and you both shared laughs and even eat ice cream pints with you

"Gotta say, I love the waffles" you say as you wipe your plate using your fingers to lick off the remaining whipped cream

"The pleasure is all mine, sweets" he says as he grabs your white cheddar popcorn that he bought last night

You take it and open it up and you shove your hand down on the bag, you crunch one popcorn inside of your mouth

You smile "why are you so nice to me? why is that?"

His cheeks suddenly grows red "it's because I like you" he thinks to himself

"I just wanted to take care of you, that's all" he says avoiding eye contact with you

You bite your lip and you think of your decisions

You have to tell him how you feel

Eddie's mood slightly changes, he frowns a little bit because he is a nobody, he is so out of your league

He is a freak and you're a popstar, little did he know that you don't care of what he is

What you do care is how he treats you like the way you wanted to be treated

He is perfect and he doesn't know it

It's noon and he thought he is overtime staying over at your house

He wished to stay a little longer or he means forever and you think the same

He waves bye to you shyly while he walks towards to his RV van

He frustratingly groans of not saying the truth to you as he opens the door

"Eddie, wait"

You walked behind him

He brings himself around to face you, he thought you feel unwell again

"Thank you, really, for everything that you did today and last night" you smile at him

You can't even bring yourself to say it

"You don't have to thank me with anything, if you need something, just call me, okay?" He says as he pats your shoulder

"Okay, Eddie" you say softly with a smile

You might get melted if you stare at each other again, so you turn your heel and walk away

Eddie watches you, you pressed your lips together and you remember of all the things he did last night and today

Maybe.... You read him wrong, he was just being friendly and you on the other hand expecting something more bigger than that

You frown as you reach for the doorknob you can't even look back at him that way again

You wanted more than just friends

You can hear Eddie's keys jangling and he opens the door, you slowly turning the doorknob of your front door open

"I wonder...." You think to yourself

Eddie shuts the door and put his keys back to his pocket and calls you

He ran towards you

You heard his voice and your heart stops of what you just predicted

You dropped your hand onto your sides and he grabbed your shoulders

Turning you to face him, furrowing your brows as you look at him

You look down where he holds you, he stares at you with loving eyes

He caresses his thumb on your shoulders

Before you know it, he pulled you closely into his chest and he presses his lips to kiss you

You yelped at his action as you watch him closing his eyes as he kiss you fiercely

Your eyes softens with delight, his lips felt good

He pulled back and you pout "I-I'm sorry, I really like you- I do- I'm crazy in love with you, Agatha" he stutters

"You like me?" You say breathlessly

he is afraid of rejection but with you he will never regret that he confessed it "Yes, if you'll have me"

"I love you, Eddie" you say as you pulled him closer to you

You brushed his lips with your thumb and you cup his cheeks with a smile on your face

His heart might come out of his chest, he easily melts within your touch

You slam your lips onto his and his eyes widened but he recovered

He holds your waist tightly and you wrap your arms around him

The kiss was so desperate but burning with desire

He deepens the kiss as he slids his tongue onto your mouth and you mewl

None of you wanted to break the kiss and it felt the like the world stopped moving for a moment

Your eyes became glossy when you both pulled back

You giggled how plump his lips are

"I-I don't seem to understand" he lets out a breathy laugh

"I am so in love with you, you have no idea" you say as you throw your arms around him

You lay your head on against his chest

"But I'm just a-" you cupped his mouth and you shush him

"You're perfect, Eddie, you're an incredible guy" you told him while you pinch his cheeks

He chuckles and as he places a kiss on the top of your head

"You're perfect, you're an incredible guy" your voiced echoed to his mind his insecurity removes it self away from him the second you told him that like it didn't even existed

"I love you so much, Eddie, if you'll have me" you say as you pulled back to look at him

You read his eyes and you can tell how radiant they are- he is the most happiest man in the world

"Are you kidding me? of course, I fucking love you!" He exclaims and you bursted out laughing

He scooped you up and you whooped in shock and you crack up at his action

You hold at him tightly as you lay your head over his shoulder and you kiss his neck

He swing your door open and kicks it close

He sats on the couch and he places you on his lap as he peppers you with lots of kisses on your chest, neck, cheek and your hand

You giggling "Stop! It tickles!"

He snorted "I love you, I love you, I loooveee you" he says as he pecks a kiss to your lips

"I love you endlessly" you say as he clashes his lips onto yours

You can feel him smiling at the kiss and you sigh in comfort

Eddie gave you a piece of chocolate mousse cake as you make a conversation with him

You ate it and you hum on how indulgent it was

You both have the same interest with music, fashion, movies, and life, you find out he was also bullied too

You also have the right amount of friends, quality over quantity....

You've never engage in conversations enthusiastic like this

He made it so easily when you're with him

You can listen to him for hours

Eddie popped up on the VHS player and it starts playing "The Godfather" (1972), you heard the iconic soundtrack while your hands on the sink and you slowly your turn around

He flushed himself on the sofa with his one arm extended on the side and he looks at you beaming, you gasp with a tender smile sitting on your lips

"Oh my... H- How did you know?" you say as you tear off a paper towel to dry your hands

"I saw your poster on your bedroom and I think this is the good time to finally watch this film"

You let your jaw drop and he chuckles "You haven't seen it yet?!?" you're so appalled

"I'm sorry" he laughs "I'm more like into horror, I dig that kind of stuff"

you hum "You're in for a treat!" you say with a wide smile as you sat down beside him and he wrap his arms around you

You look up at him and he is already staring at you "You should expand your knowledge in films too, you're missing a lot!"

"Yeah, I think I need to" he nods

"Oh, yes you are!" you elbowed his stomach playfully and he snorted, you scoff at him "you're so uncultured!"

He dramatically acts like he is being stabbed in the heart and you laugh

You pat his knee "Now, pay attention" as you point at the television

He smirks at you and he squeezes you

you both cuddled up together at night as he embraces you while you bury yourself on his chest

He snuggled with you and kept telling you that you look stunning yesterday and he is so starstruck at your performance

You grin at him and he is worried about your period, you felt a little dizzy, so he gave you a glass of water

"Why do I deserve to have someone like you" you told him as you place the glass on the bed side table

"Because you let me take care of you" he says as you scoot over to give him space and you throw yourself onto him as soon as his on your side and he chortled

You both said "I love you's" a zillion times already

"I love you, sweetheart" he says to you while he rubs your back

"I love you even more" you say as you hug him

It feels so warmth on his arms, you can't even express how joyful you are

It's 6am in the morning and Eddie shuts his eyes when he saw the bright sunlight at the window, he flinches a little

He froze when you moved slightly not wanting to wake you up, instead, he put his arms around you

Caressing your head lulling you to sleep....

Dustin is right "he is a good dude" more like the greatest

🎶"Just trust in me, like I trust in you"🎶

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson cute #Spotify #agirlwholovesrockstarsfics

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two-sides-samecoin · 1 year ago

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I'm sorry if this comes out of nowhere, but I was thinking about r//nance, lol. So, like in canon for me, it was ooc for Robin to want to befriend the girl who broke her bffs heart so badly, bc why would she you know. So I keep thinking maybe Steve, who already blames himself, just doesn't really say negative things about Nancy, like he deserved this kinda treatment. I mean still I wouldn't want to be friends with that person who makes my bff feel that way, especially because I heard rumors about cheating and Nancy did move on pretty quickly, like not even a week so that would raise red flags. Anyway, if we all ignore this and Robin thinks of Nancy as this great amazing person who she wants to spend time together, wouldn't she then ask Nancy about Steve and their relationship?? And if so, wouldn't Nancy then have to admit to Robin how she used Steve as a placeholder? And if Robin finds the whole truth, wouldn't she want to stay far away from Nancy? Like it just wouldn't make any sense, realistically why Robin would want to be close to her after everything. It wouldn't matter if Steve would only say positive things about Nancy or reassure her the hurt he felt was only because of his mistakes. Robin is smart she would piece one and one together, Nancy hurt her best friend, and she wouldn't let this slide. This is why I hate this whole plotline about Robin kissing Nancy's ass in s4, I know the show doesn't acknowledge Nancy's mistakes in Stancy, but omg. Not everyone has to be best buddies, especially if there is history.

It was sooo ooc for Robin to act this way, like she should have been wary and maybe a bit cold to her. If Steve was my best friend, I would not whorship the ground his ex walks on. Robin seems like to have the same principles. In Rebel Robin, she hates it that Barb ditched her for Nancy, like idk how canon those books are but if it's true it's another thing why Robin should have been at least a bit bitchy.

The fandom and the show, but mostly the fandom, just wants everyone to be bffs, disregarding the major conflicts and mistakes. Like no realistically, Jonathan and Steve won't be friends, Jonathan is Nancy's boyfriend who knowingly cheated with her on Steve. Steve and Nancy can't be friends because of the messy breakup. Like every teen is like negatively linked to someone, which creates this clusterfuck. The only reason why the kids can all be friends is because they never cross-dated and genuinely like each other. The teens are only together in the group bc of trauma, not because they want to.

it’s totally cool! i love talking about this :) yeah it was quite weird especially cuz she had reservations before about nancy and now she changed it like at the flip of a hat - it’s so weird. yeah i think steve totally believes he was at fault for the relationship so i don’t see steve telling robin an unbiased version anytime soon of how he was the one at fault. yes about the hearing rumors! okay i find it odd how fandom has no problem judging what tommy says in season 2 and doesn’t realize the implications that the entire school knows something is going on with nancy and jonathan. also people were at a party when steve and nancy had their fight so i do not see anyway really trusting their judgement that something even happened between the two of them cuz everyone was drunk and not fully paying attention. all people know is that steve and nancy had a bickering over and steve left without nancy like i don’t think people would only come to the conclusion that they broke up. like there would be so many different rumors about this situation - none of them where nancy and jonathan come out to look like good people in the public’s eye so robin who already had reservations about nancy wouldn’t want to make friends with her after knowing that she possibly cheated or that she just didn’t care about steve. yeah robin kissing nancy’s ass makes no sense like why ‘she’s full of surprises isn’t she?’ like ngl that comment didn’t make sense to me cuz robin herself was never really surprised at nancy on screen about her guns or etc.

omg yeah robin would totally ask about it but ngl i kind of don’t see nancy even admitting that she was also at fault. like she already has no problem not admitting her mistakes in canon and she heard steve say that he was a shitty bf (which i don’t agree with) but i can hardly see nancy having to admit that steve was a place holder to his best friend of all people. also like i think it would be in character for nancy to not admit anything cuz she doesn’t think she did anything wrong.

yeah robin could have acted cold to her like i genuinely think she would have the same energy that she at first had with steve in the first place with nancy! like regardless if robin did feel comfortable now in her own skin - she wouldn’t just automatically trust nancy! or even enthusiastically try to make friends when she had reservations about nancy in the first place! SHE CALLS NANCY A PRISS! and like you said about the rebel robin - she has a bunch of reasons to not like nancy (although i don’t think the books are really canon but honestly i love robin being friends with barb and then being upset that nancy came along and took her from her)

fucking everything you said in the last paragraph!!! the fandom just wants all of the teens to be besties and it’s like that’s not even remotely canon or how the characters feel!!! it’s also not how any of the dynamics are in canon ! like idk what fandom’s obsession is with making everyone want to be canon bestie cuz it’s so much more interesting when they aren’t! cuz they aren’t in canon!!!! and yes everything you said about the party too! literally everything you said in that last paragraph is so perfect

#answered asks #thanks so much for this #stranger things #anti ronance #just in case lol

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danadaria · 11 months ago

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I know people can write whatever they want, but I was reading a fluffy Steddie fic where, all of the sudden, Eddie started insulting in such a hurtful and degrading way to Steve just because he was jealous; that made me drop the fic despite I was super invested :(

Like yeah, they may fix things in future chapters, but if this Steve would be my best friend I would say to him "NOPE. Red flag walking, keep moving honey. Move, move, don't look at him!!!".

But hey, it was my problem feeling uncomfortable, not the author's.

So I left the story, vent a little here, and everybody can go on with their life.

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slifarianhawk · 2 years ago

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Chapter 16: Dealing

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original P.O.V.

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After Steve stitched me up, I had archer pull up a black Escalade from the vehicle bay with an old Umbrella emblem on the side. this old stallion was my transit vehicle when I escaped from Surgei's grasp with the help of the BSAA.

Mr. Irving was sitting in the dining room enjoying a medium-rare t-bone steak with 2 over-medium eggs.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Irving?" I inquired with a smile on my face.

"Top notch, glad I could eat before we go and they even gave me three macarons. I must say the service is impeccable." He chirped.

"Good, I'm glad you are being well treated," I stated sitting on a nearby couch.

The time passed quickly, Steve made his way down by five forty-five as we were loading the Escalade. We stocked the arms and virus vials. I was even sure to pack something for me and Steve to eat while en route, roast beef sandwiches with naturally smoked gouda, full leaf butter lettuce, and roasted garlic and chive mayo.

Archer was at the front of the car waiting for the crew to move out. He turned towards Steve and Irving.

"Remember that if you are caught we never heard of you. The same goes for you, Ms. Alistar. We will remain on guard of the old Umbrella campus till you return." He spoke with high authority, "your unit from Africa set out to the location last night, return safely."

"Understood Archer," I spoke.

The other two nodded in agreement and we loaded into the Escalade. Steve took to the driver's seat and started the S.U.V. to roaring life. As soon as Irving and I took our seats, Steve sped down the long entrance way towards Pittsburgh.

Hours and a bunch of silence passed till we reached the location of the exchange. An old abandoned factory just outside of Pittsburgh. It was surrounded by a bunch of gnarled pines.

"We've arrived," I said pulling out my pistol from the glove compartment. "I'll lead just stay quiet till we reach the inside. Ricardo gets the vials for Mr. Arias from the back of the car and is prepared for the exchange."

"No need to tell me twice." He said shaking his head, " you take your job seriously, no wonder Wesker chose you over some majini."

"Like I said before I'm the best at what I do," I spoke my voice dark and unyielding.

Steve drove without a word into the main building's central area. We were greeted by four men armed with AK 47s and a man with bright white hair.

"Arias." Steve whispered, " I'll be in the car in case things fall through".

"Right," I spoke stepping from the car followed by Irving.

"Ahh Ricardo my old friend I see you brought a bodyguard this time and she's quite the specimen, Wesker must be running low on the subject if he used this beauty for his experiments," Arias spoke.

"This is Wesker's wife's student, she has been in service to him since she decided to find him. She is the best at what she does." Irving spoke winking as he spoke, "she quite the asset if you get what I mean."

"Hold your tongue Irving. That is my employee you are talking about." A familiar voice said.

Steve walked forward holding his laptop revealing Wesker on screen.

"Glen it has been a while, allow me to introduce Alistar Lancaster, she is my new head of security." He spoke with traces of venom on his tongue.

"Dr. Wesker it's a joy to see you in some form I was wondering if I'd see you again. Ms. Lancaster, I'm sorry about this. It's going to be a long and dreary chat between colleagues." Arias spoke sighing with a smirk.

RED FLAG! just screamed off in my head. Gun, grab it. I quickly drew my samurai edge and pointed it at Arias's head, "what are you playing at Arias?" I quickly said as four AK- 47s pointed at me and Ricardo.

Arias started to laugh, "My my... Wesker, your new head of security is quite sharp. She is almost a replica of you. I wonder what would happen if she was exposed to the A...."

"B.S.A.A. EVERYONE FREEZE!" armed men poured into the room opening fire on the men in the room.

"HE SET US UP!" Irving screamed running for the car.

I turned on my com link," Steve take Irving and get out of here I'll lead the B.S.A.A. away.".

"Alistar no I'm your medical advisor. I'm not letting you just run off to get shot or captured. Wesker would kill me.'' Steve shouted through the com.

"Mr. Burnside do as she says she's faster than the average B.O.W. and can without a doubt outrun some morons with assault weapons." Wesker said calmly through the com link, "Archer was quite difficult to obtain this frequency from. I'm heading to your location Ms. Lancaster, rendezvous with me in five hundred meters."

"Why are you even here sir?" Steve asked as he quickly backed out in the old S.U.V. speeding away.

"Excella was annoying me and my mole monitoring my old enemy Redfield is coming this way."

Suddenly I was surrounded by Arias's men and was hit hard in the back of the head. Dropping to my knees I had released the grip I had on my samurai edge.

"No ....sir.... abort your objective. They will be wanting you arrested. I'm just a pawn..." I heard dark sniggering as a man with massive muscles and a harness started to reach for my ankle.

"I don't think you'll be needing this." Arias reached down and ripped off my com link collar.

A loud bang rang out amongst the rapid gunfire. I looked up and the muscle man was holding Arias running out.

"Bag her and tag her boys. Agent Redfield will want to question this one." A muffled voice said.

"Without a doubt, let's go Marco." another voice said as the two men hoisted me up and zip-tied my wrists together, and injected a sedative into my neck.

"Chris......damn......it." I felt my anger suppress itself and my arms go limp as I was walked out of the building and into the back of an armored B.S.A.A. vehicle.

"Sir we got her."

"Good, she's back where she belongs."

</ time skip \>

_____________

Chris's P.O.V.

_____________

The lady in the interrogation room was my sister. She kept calling herself Alistar Lancaster, a leader of an anti-bio-terror unit under the U.N. The Phoenix Corps and only heard them mentioned once by O'Brian. They were allowed to operate in undercover missions in major active bio-terror units to feed Intel to the multiple anti-bioterrorism units all over the world. We're comprised of former Umbrella employees and survivors. All made by T.

We were told to release her but I had a DNA test run. It had to be my sister. No one else I know would be crazy enough to use their dead daughter's name.

"Redfield, would you like to talk to her? She won't respond to us except to ask for water." Marco said handing me a lukewarm mug of coffee.

"I'll take a crack at it but O'Brian said we've got about forty-five minutes before her aid is picking her up." I sipped at the old burnt coffee.

"We did lose the weapons of hers in the firefight." He said with an annoyed tone, "she must be slow who brings just a pistol to a bio weapon deal?"

"Wesker did at the Spencer mansion when Jill...." I coughed the bile rising in my throat.

"Hey, sorry man I didn't mean to get you started up." Marco patted my back and left.

No better time than the present for dealing with this mess.

#wesker x reader #resident evil #re wesker #albert wesker #wesker #chris redfield #albert wesker x reader #wesker x oc #albert wesker x oc

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mmunson86 · 9 months ago

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Yo principal Williams you are about to get ya shit rocked don’t treat me different just because I’m a new teacher ! TF✨

OK, OK after hearing, Mr. Bridges explain why they want to to have the inmates to have pen pals & all that jaz….even though it’s a little bit odd I empathize with them a little

Eddie would come up with some sort of creative name, “the banished one” i like it , suits him🫶🏻

Yeah well fuck our ex & his new girl his loss & maybe Eddies gain down the line at some point🥹🫶🏻

Right? Like why is this man making me smile like a fool? We technically dont know what he looks like a but a biitch is crushing already

Ohh hell no good thing we are soon to he divorced because Henry was a walking red flag screw that man!

Well well our pen pal happens to be Steve & Robins friend, well at least we know some of his back story so he cant be too bad right?💗

I meaaan lets be honest Eddie give me attention and my mind is staying in the gutter lol🙈

Agreed we are surrounded by two of the best friends a girl could ask for,& i think its a crush, we are developing a crush on Eddie🙈💗

That dream with Eddie where he “says to only give the key if you want to. That he enjoys your company no matter what”

My freaking heart are you kidding me😩💗

Staahp we were talking to Wayne the entire time?!? My heart Wayne you having a heart attack was not the reason Eddie went to prison dont say that, shit happens you have done ass good of a job as you could 💗

Gosh i am loving this series i cant wait for more eeeeek!🥰

inmate!eddie munson x teacher!reader

cw: drinking, explicit fantasies

September 16th,1994

The idea to you was asinine from the moment Principal Williams brought you into her office to explain the program details to you. How no one else thought that the idea of thirteen-year-olds becoming “pen pals” with prisoners wasn’t insane baffled you. It was dangerous at worst and inappropriate at best, but, despite your best efforts to reason with her, your opinion as a “newer” teacher was dismissed.

Now here you are listening to the speech of the prison rep, Mr. Bridges, as he explained the program to your 7th grade class. Not like you had a lesson planned for them today.

Mr. Bridges stands a whole 5 feet and 6 inches with a short stack military fade and the most unsettling sunny disposition. He reads as incredibly fake, like a snake oil salesman, and his shiny, white, slightly too big for his mouth veneers not doing him any favors. It doesn’t surprise you that your newly divorced principal was able to be persuaded by this guy's charms, but thankfully you’re used to his kind of tactics from your own previous relationship.

Before leaving, Mr.Bridges approaches you at your desk. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he starts, leaning too far into your space. One of his thick fingers points at a paper he had given you before he started his speech, “but is a student absent today? We have an unassigned inmate—”

“We had a student move,” you say shortly, keeping your voice monotone and not bothering to glance at his paper, “so I’m short one student in this class.”

Bridges nodded, clearly deep in thought. His brows furrowed for a moment before perking up.

“Maybe you’d like to take on a pen pal?’” He proposes, his chipper disposition coxing on the migraine that wants to break through behind your eye.

The look on your face must have said it all as he tried to convince you further. “The inmates that signed up are all trying to better themselves before being re-released into society, ya’know?” His eye’s shift, landing on the floor with a solemn look. “We thought talking to kids that grew up while they were incarcerated would help them get in touch with the times, be able to cope with time they’ve lost. Give them something to look forward to when they get out.”

The pads of your fingers dig into your temples, eyes rolling to the back of your head before finally giving him the eye contact he so desperately craved from you.

“Fine, I’ll take whoever you have left, I guess. What’s his name?”

“Perfect!” Bridges hands clap together next to your ear, “The leftover inmate wants to go by The Banished One and he—”

“Banished what?” You ask, confused.

“Oh, The Banished One! It’s his nickname for the project. We have all the inmates disguise their names just in case the kids may be related to one of them.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, resting your head in your hand, “Okay, fine, sure I guess that makes sense.”

Bridges continued to assure you that all the letters are anonymous and would be vetted both ways, adding that only ‘good behavior’ inmates were allowed to take part in the program as a last push for your participation, you reluctantly agreed. Mostly just to get him to leave your classroom before your head explodes, but not without the stipulation that if you thought it was too much for your kids that you would pull them out. That seemed to be enough to satisfy him.

October 7th, 1994

The first writing session took place on a Friday, the soft sound of music from your mixtape playing for the kids to help them relax. It had been a long week of testing and you felt like an easy day was in order for both you and the kids, most of your other classes would just be doing free work.

You grabbed the stack of letters from your desk, Pictures of You by The Cure filling the air as you hand each student their respective letter.

“Don’t forget to keep personal information like names and where you live out of your letters. Once you’re done, bring them to my desk.”

Once the kids were settled, you returned to your desk and grabbed your own letter. The envelope before you had “Teach” written across the front, the pen name you chose to go by. The handwriting was like chicken scratch. Not much different from the 13 year old boys whose papers you grade, though, so you were confident in your ability to decipher the rest of the letter. But still had a roughness, an edge to it.

As you opened your letter, unfolding the paper to it’s full state, the first thing to catch your attention was the graffiti like drawings along the margins of the paper. It reminded you of a flash sheet at the tattoo shop your friends took you to for your 21st birthday, a permanent reminder of that day on your inner ankle in the form of a small butterfly that was already starting to fade. There was nothing too offensive; a rose, a sailor ship, a dove with an olive branch, all impressively done for just being pen on paper.

Once you got past the artwork, you began to take in the letter's contents. The single page was filled from front to back, barely any room for the signature at the bottom.

“Hey there, “Teach”... if that is your real name…” the letter starts. The lame opener makes you crack a small smile that you quickly cover with your hand. You read on, taking in each sentence, and you start to get the idea that your pen pal doesn’t take this pen pal assignment too seriously.

The letter is casual, a few puns here and there, with some Tolkien references that would have been missed if one wasn’t familiar with his work. It’s clear that this person is young, or at least young at heart, which saddens you to think about, but you try not to dwell on it.

Getting into the meat of the letter, your pal explains that went to prison in 1989 for drug related charges, but is set to get out in about a year if he keeps up his good behavior.

“I’m ready to get out of this place and get back to my hometown in Hawkins.”

A shiver goes down your spine for a moment when you read that he’s from Hawkins. Bridges assured you that the inmates wouldn’t know what school the kids would be from, but you weren’t expecting to be talking to someone from this small town. You wonder if Bridges knows more than he’s letting on with his comment about the kids being related to the inmates.

Once the creepy feeling dissipates you continue to read on. The details your pal gives about himself tell you that he’s very different from the people you usually hang out with. His favorite genre of music is metal and he used to play guitar and do vocals for a band every week before he started working as a mechanic full time. They’d have a crowd of 20 or so some nights, but it was usually just the regulars at the place they would play at.

The final paragraph of the letter consists of a seemingly scripted warning about the dangers of drugs and that no one should make the same mistake he did. You wondered if this was obligatory for the project. At the bottom of the page your pal signs with his chosen moniker “The Banished One.” When thinking about it, you find that it’s very fitting for an inmate.

After taking a moment to check in on your class, Morrissey’s somber voice serenading them as “I Know It’s Over” plays from the small radio’s speakers, you pull out your own pen and paper to start your response.

As you ponder on where to start, a thought that crosses your mind; does your pen pal even know they’re talking to an adult? The pen name you chose might be on the nose but you didn’t want to assume. Granted, your handwriting itself may be a dead giveaway if you were to compare it to a teens.

It took you a couple of tries to start your letter. Instinctively, you wanted to be formal, but the longer you thought about it the more you didn’t want to come off as a boring writing companion. You tried and failed to come up with something witty to match the vibe of your pal, but comedy wasn’t your strong point, though you’d argue that it wasn’t his either. Instead, you approached it as if you were writing to a friend.

“Hello! Nice to meet you “Banished One." Though, it sounds like you won't be banished much longer.”

Erring on the side of caution you chose to only respond directly to things he wrote, slipping in that you also enjoyed the works of Tolkien with your own reference. You mention that you listen to metal from time to time, more into radio rock at the moment, but you’d really listen to anything.

It took you a minute to calculate how to respond to the reveal of his dealings in drugs, ultimately deciding to lightly say that you hoped he learned his lesson unless he saw himself returning to prison in the future. You shared that you were familiar with Hawkins, noting that you loved the milkshakes from the old diner in town, but left it at that. As you closed the letter you complimented his artwork, informing him that the rose was your favorite and that you looked forward to seeing his artwork on future letters.

You’d manage to write enough to cover the majority of the back of your lined paper, signing your pen name a few lines away from the bottom. Going over your letter again, you can't help feeling like it’s a bit dull. Safe, but that’s what it's supposed to be.

October 24th,1994

It only took two weeks for Mr. Bridges to return with new letters for your class. Truthfully, you had almost forgotten about the letters entirely while trying to keep your students on track as the holiday season approaches. The emotional whiplash of seeing your ex out with his new, younger girlfriend while you were out looking for Halloween decor for your apartment wasn't helping either. It felt like no matter what you did, how much your friends tried to help, you just couldn’t catch a break. At least the manager of the local liquor store was nice to you.

When your students seemed too preoccupied with the stack of letters on your desk to pay attention to your lecture, you decided to call it a day and give all of you a break. You click on your small stereo and let the tune of Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah take over the room while you pass out letters.

Once the letters were distributed, you settled at your desk where your eyes met with the same chicken scratch handwriting as before. It was tempting to reach for it… until you glanced at the pile of ungraded papers that sat next to it, taunting you. You desperately needed to go over them, the deadline to turn in grades fast approaching.

You deliberated on what to do. You had to admit you were curious about the letter. Part of you wondered if you’d even get one back. You didn’t want to give any personal information away, so you couldn’t blame the random man in prison for not responding if he thought he was talking to an old lady teacher.

But the stack of papers is practically glaring at you.

A thought; you could always finish your papers later at home. But you did tell yourself you would be better at bringing so much work home with you this year…Your friends had an influence on that decision, making sure you took at least every other weekend to go out and do something — anything to keep you from shutting yourself in again.

With a sigh, you tuck the letter into your work bag, grabbing your pen to start grading.

“Damn it, why can’t I find one stupid pen!”

Slamming drawers and stomping around, the red liquid of your cup sloshing around in your glass as you grew more and more frustrated in your search for a pen to write out the checks for the coming month’s bills.

After searching the kitchen, you make your way to the living room and spot your school bag on the coffee table. In your rage, you slam the glass on the table and begin haphazardly pulling the contents out of the bag, praying you still had a pen that hadn’t been “borrowed” to never be returned by one of your students.

The feeling of plastic on the tips of your finger almost brought you to tears of joy. Pulling out a purple ink pen you decided that it would have to be good enough if your landlord wanted your rent on time.

After finishing with the checks, you return to your bag to put the envelopes inside to drop off tomorrow at the post office. As you lift the bag, your eyes meet with chicken scratch again away. A burst of buzzed excitement runs through you at the sight, even if for just a moment before you shook it off. It was just an envelope from some random man sitting in a jail cell, why are you getting so excited? Is it because you’re at home and not feeling the pressure to be uptight and rigid?

Or maybe it’s because you can’t remember the last time you received a letter that wasn’t a bill. It sort of gave you a feeling of nostalgia, taking you back to a time when you wrote letters to your mom when you were at camp, or when you would write to your grandparents around the holidays. It even reminded you a bit of writing in your diary, if your diary could write back that is. It’s not like he would have room to judge you from his jail cell, right?

You snatch the letter from the bag and walk back into the kitchen, grabbing the dark bottle of wine to refill your glass and plopping down at the table. Ripping open the envelope, you pull out the letter and immediately notice that it is covered in artwork just as the last one was.

This time you notice a 20-sided dice with a banner that read “critical hit”, a very detailed dragon head, and a stylized version of the skeleton guy that you’ve seen on the cover of Iron Maiden albums. The biggest piece was of another rose, but in the fully bloomed center was an eye. It was…interesting. Well done, but not what you were expecting. Not that you were expecting anything anyway.

Getting the artwork out of the way, you take a large sip of your drink and begin reading.

“Hello again, Teach,” the letter starts, “I think we need to discuss the elephant in the room before I can write anything else.” Your brow quirks up, a slight nervousness begins to creep in your mind.

“I was already suspicious when I was told the person I was writing to wanted to go by Teach. And no seventh grader I’ve ever known can write as nicely as you. Not that I know a lot of seventh graders...Anyway, can I ask how I ended up being pen pals with the class teacher? I know I could ask Bridges, but I think it would be more fun to hear it from you.”

Your lips tug into a smile, but this time you don’t feel the need to cover it. Why did it feel like a game he won or a riddle he solved? It wasn’t exactly like you were hiding it. But something about him figuring out something about you was…exciting.

As you get into the meat of the letter itself he goes on to ask you what subject you teach and how long you have been teaching. He asks if you like working with kids and if they ever made you want to pull your hair out. The phrasing of his words make you giggle.

“I was never good in school,” he states. “It took me three tries of my senior year to graduate. I used to blame my teachers saying that they didn’t like the way I dressed or my taste in music. I guess now I have to admit that it was probably because I didn’t bother to show up to class or do any of my homework…”

A full laugh shook you in your chair. Was he actually funnier in this letter? And why did it come off feeling so personal? The air about it was different, like you were talking to a long-distance friend rather than a felon, your cheeks starting to ache from smiling as you continue read his sketchy handwriting.

He went on to ask more about you, like what your favorite band was since you “liked rock so much more than metal,” with a little frowny face to punctuate his disagreement. He says the prison lets them watch MTV sometimes, which has been his main exposure to new music. Sometimes he gets a hold of new music every once and a while, but usually just listens to his old cassettes on his Walkman that his uncle gave him when he first entered the system.

“Some people have tried to steal it from me, but they learned pretty quickly that I have my ways to get things back, and that I'm not one to be messed with.”

That left you curious. A small glimpse into the inner workings of prison. You never really thought about what a person in prison could or couldn’t have. It was nice that he could have at least a small luxury, an item of value if it was under constant threat of being taken. You also couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by not being messed with.

Before you know it you’ve hit the end of the letter. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed. It felt like there could have been so much more to say, but his pen name barely fit at the bottom of the paper as it is. You take a piece of paper out of your notebook, pulling the frayed pieces off the edge and replacing the one in front of you with it. Hopefully your pal won't mind the purple pen or the probable lack of coherence compared to your first letter as you feel the wine really start to kick in.

Referring back to the paper like a student answering a question in class, you make sure to answer all of his questions to the best of your ability.

“Hello again, Mr. Banished. I see you have uncovered my secret that I am, in fact, a grown woman and not a 13-year-old. I hope that doesn’t bother you. I have been teaching English since I graduated college, coincidentally in 1989. It's like we traded places; I got to leave the prison of being a student in college and you went to prison for whatever drug related charges you acquired.” You laughed at your own joke as you continued.

“As for why you are stuck with writing a late 20’s school teacher rather than one of my students, that would be because of the aforementioned Mr.Bridges. We had a student move a few weeks into the school year and Bridges practically got on his knees and begged me to take on a pen pal.” You left out the detail of not being totally comfortable with the program. Not that you weren’t still hesitant, but the last thing you wanted to do was offend him by insinuating anything about the type of person he was for being in jail. The wine had rationalized with you that sometimes good people do bad things when they’re in dark places.

Continuing on, you wrote that he was probably right in both his opinions on why his teachers failed him. The older teachers at your school were stuck in their ways and judged students before really trying to help them. You did your best not to be the same way, hoping to be a teacher that your students could trust and come to if they needed help. It was a passion of yours since you were small, wanting to help people learn and grow, so what better way to do that than to teach?

“I am interested in what you wore that would call for such harsh judgment. I try to be as unbiased as I can with all my kids. If you asked them, they would say that I’m stuffy or rigid most of the time, but it’s mostly because I care about their education. And partly because being a new teacher is…really freaking tough if I’m being honest. These older teachers don’t take half of the things I say seriously because their own kids are older than me. It’s kind of bullshit, actually, but I just deal with it until I can get more experience under my belt.”

A sigh slips through your lips, pen tapping against the kitchen table as you feel the frustration bubbling. It’s not fair to dump these feelings on him, but the anonymity made it so easy to just put everything out there. He doesn’t know anything about you, and if you were to weird him out by getting a little real, then he could just not write back, right?

After taking a moment to collect yourself, you decided to just move on to a different topic.

“Sorry, that was a lot of feelings on my part. Is it too personal to ask what you do in prison? You mentioned getting to listen to music, but what else do you do? I’ve seen in movies that inmates work out a lot and play basketball outside. Is that real or made up for the audience? If it is real, does that mean you are super buff from working out all the time? Do you beat people up if they try and take your Walkman, or do you stab them? I’ve seen people do that in movies, too. I hope you don’t stab them, that would be scary.”

You can feel yourself getting a bit rambley in your tired state, so you decide it’s time to call it a night. You wrap up the letter by telling him that you’re going to go to sleep and that you were looking forward to his next letter. You sign your name and draw a small doodle of a flower next to it.

November 18th,1994

It was 3 am when you woke up the first time. A nightmare had you shooting up from your pillow, cold sweat drenched the collar of your sleep shirt, chest heaving as you caught your breath.

He had been knocking at your door, your pen pal. You never saw his face, but heard the anger in his voice as he yelled for you to let him in. You remember sitting in front of the door begging for him to leave you alone, telling him it was too soon. That you weren’t ready.

The nightmare became reoccurring, waking you at least 2 or 3 times a week. Sometimes it’s your ex, but most of the time it’s your pen pal. Even though you have no inkling of what he looks like, you just know it’s him on the other side.

The disturbance in your sleep was starting to affect your daily life, one of your coworkers asking if you were okay after over pouring a cup of coffee in the teacher’s lounge.

“Are you okay?” Mr.Clarke asks, helping you mop up the spilled coffee with some paper towels.

“Yes, I’m sorry, yeah,” you say, trying and failing to reassure him.

“Hey, I know that midterms can be rough with the holidays coming up. But, try not to stress out about it too much. I’ve heard good things about you from the kids in my classes that have you this year. You’re doing a good job, so don't kill yourself, okay?”

It was damn near impossible not to burst into tears at your coworkers words, but you held it together until you could hide in the faculty restroom.

The dreams didn’t stop though. Even Mr.Bridges felt the need to comment.

“Holidays stressing you out?” he asked with an energy that seemed inhuman to you, his sunny disposition could make the snow outside melt.

“No.” You stated shortly as you looked through your lesson plan for the day.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he said with a nod, “This is the most wonderful time of the year after all. We try to stay busy at the prison, keep the morale high and what not.”

He placed the stack of letters on your desk, along with a small box that read “Greeting Cards” with a wintery scene displayed on the front.

“These are for the students to give to the inmates.” You look at him with “no shit” written on your face. He cleared his throat, “But, uh, I’m sure you could figure that out. I know this time of year can be hectic for everyone, but we all deserve some holiday cheer, right?” Your expression remains unchanged as he continues on.

“Right, well, I’ll be giving the inmates their own cards to send to the kids with their letters. It might be a bit difficult for me to come back before Christmas, family affairs to attend to and all that. So, I went ahead and wrote the address and stamped the envelopes for the cards. If I don’t come back by, oh, let's say the 15th? Just go ahead and stick those in the mail and I’ll make sure the inmates get them!”

Before you could protest having to go out of your way to do his job, Mr.Bridges quickly made his exit as the warning bell rang, wishing you a happy holiday as he disappeared.

With the lack of free class time as you all crammed for test week, you decided to let the kids take their letters and cards home for the weekend to work on. As you passed them out, keeping the addressed envelopes in the box, you told the kids to write something nice in their cards.

“This may be the only card some of these men get, so think about that when you’re writing them this weekend.”

Getting to the last letter, you feel your stomach twist as you read your actual government first name in the familiar chicken scratch handwriting instead of your pen name. You hadn’t even realized that you had stopped dead in your tracks until the sound of the bell brought you back to your body.

“U-uh, ge--get your letters done by the end of class Tuesday!” You yell over your class as they begin migrating out of the room.

Quickly, you return to your desk and rip open the letter. Unsurprisingly, it’s once again covered in artwork. The pumpkins and bats and other Halloween inspired art felt out of place, putting in perspective how long it had been since your last letter. But before you could look much further into the writing your next class began to file in, forcing you to set the letter aside for later.

You’d felt nauseous the rest of your morning classes, You wracked your brain about how the hell your pen pal could have figured out your actual name. You may have been...a little tipsy when you wrote that letter a month ago, but you’re sure you didn’t say anything personal enough that he would know who you were. Could he have asked someone on the outside to look into you? No, Mr.Bridges assured you that the inmates don’t know what school they are writing to. Maybe Bridges said your name to someone at the jail and the inmate overheard?

As soon as the bell rang for your lunch period, you practically rushed your students out the door and closed it. Throwing yourself into your chair, you grab the letter and begin reading.

“Well, well, I wasn’t expecting to be getting more lore in your newest letter! You have a very cute name by the way…Sorry I hope that wasn’t weird. Anyway! I guess I can tell you my name, too. Call me Eddie.”

Eddie.

So you had included your own name in your letter somewhere. You sigh with relief, though it still makes you a little uncomfortable that this stranger knows something personal about you. Sure he’s been nice, but he was still a felon. Though knowing his name made you feel a little better. Made him feel a tad more human to not use silly nicknames.

“Can I start by saying I loved reading your last letter?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise.“The purple pen was a nice touch. Something about a teacher complaining about other teachers is really funny to me, too. Nice to know the torment of some teachers isn’t just limited to students! And I doubt your kids think you’re stiff or whatever. You seem pretty cool to me. Even if I’ve only gotten to talk to you through a couple letters, you talk to me a lot nicer than I probably deserve.”

The smile that had made its home on your lips from his sentiments dropped into a frown. You felt yourself wanting to get defensive, wanting to tell him that he shouldn’t think that way about himself. That even if he was a felon, he still deserves respect.

“Being a younger teacher must be hard. You did all the college stuff to be a teacher so that should be enough to get their respect in my opinion. I don’t think I had a teacher who wasn’t at least in their 50s so they probably can’t see anyone under 30 as anything other than a kid I guess.”

“Hit the nail on the head,” you say to yourself with an airy chuckle.

As you keep reading, he changes the subject to something you don’t remember asking in your previous letter.

“So you wanna know what I look like, huh? Well back before I was in here I would wear my band shirts, Metallica and Judas Priest and all the bands that make the old ladies cringe. My jeans had holes in them, too. And I have this battle vest that I’ve put together with some patches of my favorite bands on it. My uncle Wayne says he’s keeping it safe for me at home. It’s not much, but I learned how to stitch patches on by myself, so it means something to me. Gives me something to look forward to when I get out.”

Your mind paints an image of a gangely teen trying to look cool to impress his friends or scare off the old ladies at the mall. Sounds like the kind of guy you had crushes on in high school. There may have been a picture or 2 of Kirk Hammit or Vince Neil or Eddie Van Halen tapped to the inside of your locker door in high school, but you’d never admit that now.

“I also had long hair when I was younger. Can’t call yourself a metal head without having long hair ya know. But I’ve had to cut it since I’ve been in here. I’ve got pretty curly hair and it was getting hard to keep up with it. It’s short enough to keep out of my face most of the time. I’m actually due for a haircut, so thanks for reminding me! Hair cuts are free in prison so I get it done way more than I ever did on the outside. You gotta tip your barber though or else they might “accidentally” shave all your hair off next time. Learned that one the hard way.”

He goes on to answer some of your questions about the inner workings of the jail. They do get to work out a lot, but says he’s not a “big meat head” like some of the other inmates. He doesn’t like basketball for “personal reasons” so he prefers to run laps. “When you’re trying to get out of a big fight it’s better to be faster than stronger.”

“I am also proud to admit that I have never stabbed someone. Almost been stabbed myself, but I used to get my shit rocked in high school so I’ve learned to dodge over the years.” Your hand comes to your face, almost forgetting that you asked such a stupid question. Of course he hasn’t stabbed anyone. You could excuse it if it was out of self defense maybe. But then you recall him saying before that he doesn’t get “messed with”, so what is he doing that people aren’t bothering him if not stabbing them? Your head spins with possibilities as you think about it more.

As you are about to read on, you are interrupted by a knock on your door, the sound causing you to jump in your seat. Quickly closing the letter and shoving it into your bag, you rush to the door to find a student from your 3rd period class, a shy one at that, needing clarification on the newest assignment. You let her in, forgetting the letter for the rest of the period.

The rest of the period then turns into the rest of the day. It goes by like a blur as everyone seems to be getting last minute things turned in for the week. Grades for the upcoming report cards would be due by the end of next Tuesday, so you told your classes to get any missing work in by today and you would give them partial credit. It was setting yourself up for a busy weekend, but anything to keep your mind off the upcoming holiday was welcomed.

It would be your first Thanksgiving single in almost 10 years, and your 4th since your mom passed. Your soon to be ex-husband, Henry, had convinced you to move to his hometown of Hawkins after your mother died to be closer to his family and to help his dad’s business as his accountant. It wasn’t your first choice of places to live, and after looking back on the situation, you realized that he had used your vulnerability to get a lot of what he wanted.

Things seemed fine at first. His parents bought your house and he had a good paying job. All you had to do was cling to his arm and keep quiet. You were kept well manicured, your appearance catered to his liking as he paraded you around at office parties.

The not so hushed whispers from the women in his office always talking about how lucky you were to bag an older man reached your ears. But you kept your tongue against your cheek. They could be jealous all they want, because if they knew what happened behind closed doors they wouldn’t be singing the same tune.

Waking up early in the morning, way before he ever did, just to put on your face. God forbid you weren’t presentable to him always. Afterwards you’d iron his white button ups and khaki slacks, make him a huge breakfast, present his clothes to him, and be waiting by the door on your knees for him to use your mouth before he walked out the door.

At the time, you felt like you had a purpose. That being a housewife was what you were meant to be. But the degree you had worked so hard on stared at you as you cleaned the house everyday. Your passion was just in reach, boring you every day.

That is, until fate, and the well timed retirement of your predecessor, gave you the opportunity to start teaching that year. When you got the call, you were over the moon. Henry even said he was proud of you.

Until you forgot to iron his clothes. It was just a stern talking to the first time, an anger in his eyes like you’d never seen before had you on edge the entire first day of class. You made it up to him by waking up extra early, using your mouth to start his day since you couldn’t be at the door for him anymore.

But, then you started falling behind on chores during the week as grading papers took up most of your free time when you weren’t tending to his needs. It’s not that you didn’t clean, it just wasn't the only thing you had to do every day anymore. Passive comments about becoming lazy were brushed to the side until they collectively spilled over into your first big argument. You told him he could help, too. He smacked you across the face.

Too busy juggling work and cleaning the house full time caused you to miss the signs that things were declining. It started when Henry had to start staying late for work, claiming that they had a “big project” that was going to require him to stay over longer. He made it seem like a temporary arrangement that ended up becoming a pattern for months. But, he assured you that a raise could come from his hard work. So you continued to sit at home, a cold, untouched plate sitting across from you as you finished another bottle of wine. At least he wasn’t there to put his hands on you.

Then it was the pair of panties that you didn’t recognize when you did his laundry. When you confronted him, he told you that it must be a pair you owned back in high school that was mixed in with his clothes somehow when you moved. When you pressed on, he gave you a black eye.

Then it was the perfume you didn’t recognize on your pillow case when you came home from a weekend trip to see your new nephew. He told you it smelled like your perfume, you just hadn’t been home all weekend to smell it. You didn’t argue this time.

Then it was his father’s secretary, Missy, calling your home and telling you that she was sleeping with your husband. She had been nice at last year's Christmas party when you first met her. Nineteen, dumb as a box of rocks.

“Are you and Henry still married?” she had asked with her valley girl accent, “Because when I stayed over I saw that he still had pictures of you two at his house.”

Now you’re stuck in this tiny town, your closest relative being your brother who has his own family out in Chicago. Thankfully, you had made friends with the ever charming Steve Harrington, who’s father also worked with Henry. He came as a package deal with his roommate Robin Buckley, and the two of them quickly became your best friends. They were as blindsided as you about Henry’s affair and helped you move into your new apartment. Steve offered to let you live with him and Robin, but you didn’t want to live in the same house as your ex’s coworker, even if he was never there.

“We should make a grocery list for next week.” Robin called from the kitchen to where you and Steve were sat in the living room. “Do we want to bother making a turkey or should we do something easier?”

“Do you know how to make a turkey?” you asked looking over the top of your wine glass as she taps a pen to paper scowling.

“She can barely make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, d’ya really think she can make a turkey?” You watch as a roll of paper towels is launched from the kitchen into the side of Steve’s head and your laugh erupts.

“Well, then were fucked,” you say between giggles, “because I can’t make a turkey, and I know Steve “grabs a pan without a mitt” Harrington also can’t cook one.”

“Oh, that was ONE TIME!”

Steve goes to throw the paper towel roll at you, but you dodge, “One time is enough to never let you live it down, Steven. Maybe we should get some chicken instead.”

“Oh, I can make us some potato salad!”

After some back and forth about what to make for your “Friendsgiving” as Robin had been calling it, claiming inspiration from a new episode of Friends, Steve was begging to talk about anything else.

“School seems to be better this year,” he looks at you carefully, “You haven’t been talking about it as much lately. Not negatively at least.”

“Yeah the only thing you’ve complained about is that prison thing your class was supposed to be doing.” She looked at you with a look of curiosity, “How’s that going?”

You blink and suddenly remember the letter that you had gotten earlier. It was sitting in your bag back home where you had left it on your coffee table again. You were so busy getting ready to go to Steve’s that you had forgotten to finish it.

“It’s going okay. Hey, did you guys go to high school here?”

They both look at each other, then back to you. “Yep, graduated a year after dingus, though. Class of ‘86.”

Steve gave Robin an annoyed look at the nickname before returning his attention to you, “Why do you ask?”

You pondered for a moment if it would be okay to tell them about Eddie. The program was supposed to be anonymous, but that was just to protect the kids. If he wasn’t allowed to give you his name they would have confiscated the letter, right? Bridges said the letters were vetted both ways, so if it was a problem he would have told you. But this seemed like a breach of privacy. You only had a first name to go off of and a vague description. He never said his age, so could be older than even you, or younger than Robin.

“Um, do you guys know anyone that goes by Eddie?”

They both perked up at the name, giving each other a look that you couldn’t read. You swore they could communicate telepathically.

Steve was the first to speak after a moment of silence. “Yeah, we know an Eddie. Why?” His tone was curious as he side eyed you.

“Oh, well my pen pal from the, uh, the prison thing. See his name is Eddie, and he told me that he’s from Hawkins. I don’t know much about him, but I think he may be close to my age and maybe he was in school with you guys-”

Robins laugh caught you off guard. “If it’s the same Eddie we know, then yes he was in school with us. Way longer than he was supposed to be, and we didn’t really get close until the end of my senior year.”

The look on your face prompted Steve to elaborate, “Eddie was -- is, a friend of ours that we got to know better through a mutual friend. He did go to prison a few years ago, but it was because he was scapegoated by a guy he bought weed from. We thought he was gonna go to jail for, like, the rest of his life or something. I had to convince my dad to get our lawyer that he keeps on retainer to represent him in court. The guy owed my dad a favor and he did it, Eddie only got five years.”

“There’s no way,” you said incredulously. Your jaw had to be on the floor. You knew this town was small, but was it really this small? Robin and Steve would be the type to forget to mention they had a friend in prison, too.

“What’s his last name?”

“Munson. Eddie Munson. We still talk to him on the phone every once in a while. Usually his uncle gets a hold of us, tells us that he’s going to call at a certain time so we can stay by the phone. Oh!” Steve stands up from his spot on the couch, clapping his hands, “I have my senior year book up stairs. He should be in it as long as he showed up to picture day.”

As Steve walks away, you turn to Robin, who has an amused look on her face.

“What?” You laugh, still in disbelief at the information that has been given to you. She shrugs, lips turned in a downward smile, “Nothing. So what do you and Eddie talk about?”

“What do we talk about? Not much really. We’ve only sent maybe two letters to each other. He always covers the letters in artwork though. They look like little tattoos.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely our Eddie,” She shakes her head, “His notebooks that he would carry around with him are covered in art. He told us he’s given himself some tattoos while he’s been there. We keep telling him he’s going to look like a felon when he comes out.”

“Isn’t he a felon, though?”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have to look like it!”

“Found it!” Steve yells as he comes back into the living room, blowing the dust off the book. He plops down on the couch between you and Robin and starts to look through the pages. “See, the funny thing about Eddie, he was supposed to graduate in ‘84, but he kept fucking around and ended up repeating his senior year -- three times.”

“Holy shit,” you were in absolute disbelief, “he told me that in one of his letters. He said he was because the teachers didn’t like him, too.”

“Yeah, that sounds like something he would say,” Robin chuckles.

“Ah-ha, He did show up! Here he is right here!”

Your eyes snapped to where Steve’s fingers pointed to the tiny black and white square. Eddie wasn’t kidding when he said his hair was super curly. The close up of his face makes his hair almost completely take the background out of the picture. You can barely see it but it looks like he’s wearing a Judas Priest shirt under a leather jacket and what you suspect to be the leather jacket he seems to treasure so much. When you finally let yourself focus on his face you’re met with a bright smile and dimples on either side. Dark eyes scrunched up from how high his cheeks were. You definitely would have had a crush on him if you had gone to the same school.

“Soooo…what do you think?” Robin sing-songs with an expectant look on her face.

You can feel yourself smiling and try to reign it in, “Well, he’s not a 40 year old biker looking guy with a beard so that makes me feel better. He looks nice, actually.”

“He’s a good guy,” Steve starts flipping through the pages of the book, “but everyone gave him shit because…of…this.” Stopping on another page in the book, you see a picture of a group of students leaning up against a wall, all of them wearing matching shirts.

“Hellfire Club?” You look between Steve and Robin.

“He hasn’t mentioned Hellfire Club?” Robin was baffled. “That’s like, his whole thing!”

You shake your head, brows furrowed,“What is it?”

“His D&D club? He’s seriously never brought it up?”

“No, not yet at least.” Taking the book from Steve, you get a better look at the picture. “Like I said, we've only sent a few letters back and forth. I wouldn’t say we’ve exhausted all of our topics for discussion yet.”

“You’ll never run out of things to talk about with Eddie,” Steve states sarcastically, “You’d think prison would have had an effect on his social skills, but that guy could talk for an hour about a crack he saw in the sidewalk.”

Hearing that made you wonder if he ever held back when writing to you. His letters were usually front and back all the way to the bottom of the pages. You wonder if they only allow him one page or if has to pay for the paper. Hopefully he wasn’t wasting his money to talk to you.

“When was the last time you guys talked to him?”

“Uh-“ Robin starts.

“It was still hot outside I think,” Steve interjects, “Like early September?”

“Yeah,” Robin nods, eyes wide, “September sounds about right.”

“Hmm, that’s around when we started writing to each other. I guess he wouldn’t have mentioned it if he didn’t know about me yet.”

“If it’s been that long we’re definitely due for a call from him.” Robin looks to Steve, you miss the mischief in her eyes, nor do you see the look he gives her back. “Maybe you could talk to him next time he calls us?”

Your head snaps up, eyes wide meeting Robin’s gaze. You saw the look now and immediately started shaking your head in protest.

“No, no, Robin I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You stand up from your spot on the couch, handing the yearbook back to Steve. Taking a few steps back to look at them, you bite one of your nails, thinking about the situation you’ve gotten yourself into. “Actually, if he does call, I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t tell him you knew me either. I’m sure he’s a nice guy but…”

“Hey,” Steve stood up and placed a hand on your arm, “It’s cool. You didn’t know Eddie before, and you barely know him now. I think Robin just meant that you could get to know him more since he is our friend. He’s gonna get out of prison eventually and we promised him that we’d just continue on like how things were before.”

“But,” you look at Steve with worry in your expression, “being in prison that long can change a person.”

“Eddie is too stubborn to let anything break him of being himself. He didn’t repeat his senior year twice because he’s dumb. He did it because he was too busy with what he wanted to do to bother with his schoolwork.”

“Actually,” Robin says, “he said prison is easier because he gets three meals a day and doesn’t have to do math, so…”

“But,” Steve gets your attention again, “My point is that you don’t have to go out of your comfort zone to be his friend for our sake if you don’t want to. Just keep talking to him on your own and see how you feel.”

You swear these two really were the only good people in Hawkins.

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded,” I’ll keep writing him, but I won’t mention that I know you two. Not yet at least.”

November 27th, 1994

Ever since your talk with Robin and Steve, your nightmares have changed. Now that you have a face to the name they’re not really nightmares anymore. Instead of a nameless, faceless voice at your door, you can see him through the peephole. He’s not knocking on your door with rage, but out of desperation. Still begging to be let in, but the lock is on his side. You hold the key in your hand, you just have to slide it under the door…

A sharp, grating ring wakes you from your sleep, eyes shooting open and taking in the room around you. The sun peaks from behind your bedroom curtains, the light just bright enough to pester the hangover migraine that’s already in full effect. You have to strain to get your eyes to focus on the numbers on your alarm clock that read just past noon.

The continuous ringing of the phone finally throttles you out of bed and into your kitchen. When you pick up the phone you hear Steve on the other end.

“Oh, good, you lived,” he exclaims, “Robin, she’s still alive!”

A muffled, “oh thank god” comes from the background in the receiver. You hadn’t anticipated being so emotional the night before, thinking you were past feeling sorry for yourself that you were alone on a holiday while your bastard ex had someone keeping your side of the bed warm every night.

All the emotions came up at Steve’s during dinner. It was just the three of you there, all with broken families. They had other friends who were home for the holidays, but they were doing their own thing this weekend. Robin and Steve insisted that you join in on the festivities but you declined, using not knowing them as an excuse.

Really you just wanted some alone time. Time to yourself, to let yourself feel whatever you need to feel without having to mask in front of strangers, brush off any awkwardness if the topic of your failed marriage were to arise.

You think Robin and Steve could tell that you were in your own head. They suggested taking you out to the only dive bar in town still open on the holiday, and assuming the place would be pretty dead, you said fuck it and all piled into Steve’s car. Sharing drinks and playing pool while metal music that made you think of your pen pal. You wondered what he was doing as you stepped outside to smoke a cigarette you bummed off an older, balding guy sitting at the bar.

After drinking so much that Robin had to drive your car home for you, their phone call really didn’t come as a surprise to you.

“Yes, god, I’m alive. Don’t yell into the phone, please.” You pinch the bridge of your nose to try and relieve some of the tension. The phone call is brief, Steve just wanting to check in on you and confirm that you didn’t want to participate in their outing.

“We’re going ice skating! And if you can’t skate, our friend Max would enjoy having someone sit on the sidelines with her.”

“Sorry, Steve,” you press your forehead against the cool wood of the door frame, “I’m sure everyone is very nice, but I’m just not feeling up to it.”

After a few cups of coffee and a long shower, you settle on your couch, flipping through the channels on the tv for something to watch and settling on a Beverly Hills: 90210 rerun marathon. It didn’t take you long to lose interest and you began fidgeting for something else to keep your mind from wandering into dangerous territory.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see your work bag on the floor at the end of your couch. The memory of tripping and knocking the bag over last night comes back to you, making you internally cringe at yourself. You grab the bag and see that the contents were an unorganized mess compared to how you normally keep it. The longer you looked the crazier it made you feel, so you carefully took the papers and folders out, laying them in front of you.

When you picked up your first period folder, the familiar envelope that you had forgotten a week ago fell out, landing in your lap. You quickly pick it up and open it, remembering that you hadn't even had the chance to properly finish reading it.

Something about seeing the letter again made you feel good. As you look at the artwork, you see the picture of the shirts his club members wore and smile as you realize he made the shirts himself.

You reread the description of himself and can laugh because he must have worn the same thing every day, recalling the holes in his jeans and his battle vest from his pictures. It was hard to imagine the wild mane of hair he had being cut short. Do they get conditioner in prison? Because his hair must be a mess without it.

Finally, you get to the part of the letter you hadn’t read. You felt your heart beating in your chest, an anxiousness building that you couldn’t explain.

“I’m running low on space to write and I don’t know when I’ll hear from you again, but I just wanted to ask-“

You’re thrown off when you see two lines of the letter have been blacked out with a black marker or sharpie. There’s no way to make out what was written, and the last line is just him wishing you a “happy whatever holiday you celebrate,” his real signature greeting you at the very bottom of the page. “What the hell?” You asked the empty apartment. The first assumption that comes to mind is that Eddie must have messed up what he was going to write and decided to black it out since he wrote in pen. Or maybe he wanted to write more, but realized he was running out of space? That would go with your theory that they are limited in the paper they can get.

There’s also the possibility he said something inappropriate and whoever checks the letters made him redact it. That was probably the least likely, but it makes you laugh to think about. Robin and Steve brought him up a few times while you were drinking and gave him the highest praises. But, you never know what someone would be willing to say or do when they’ve been touch starved for almost 5 years.

Butterflies invade your stomach when you think about it more. He’s probably had to take care of himself quite a bit while he’s been locked up. Where does one even do that in prison without prying eyes?

Your thighs clench together at the image you’ve conjured in your head. Steve had shown you some pictures of Eddie that he found from not too long before he went to prison. Sure, he resembled his yearbook picture, thin and lanky he once was. But the picture of him and Steve at a lake, both of them shirtless and clearly soaking wet, displayed muscles that he had likely gained from the mechanic job Robin mentioned he had. The tattoos that he had on his body were taking over, almost covering one of his arms completely.

The image of soaked curly hairs clinging to his face as he’s leaning into a shower wall comes to the forefront of your mind. Toned arms flexing as he holds himself against the wall with one hand, stroking himself with the other. You imagined his hands were rough and calloused from playing guitar and working on cars. He was long and hard as he pumped himself, water dripping off the tip with each down stroke. God, you can only imagine his face as he cums, a loud groan falling from his lips as he spills onto the shower floor, calling your name…

You throw yourself into the couch cushion next to you and physically cringe. Where the hell did that come from? Was this the result of your dry spell since you left Henry? A guy that you’ve never even met before gives you a little attention and your brain automatically goes into the gutter. Sitting up, you rub your face in your hands in an attempt to keep the scenario from replaying in your mind. At least you had successfully distracted yourself from the self pity you were wallowing in.

You roll onto your back, holding up the letter in your hand. You admire the artwork, the sloppy handwriting. A person wrote this letter. Someone who did something illegal and paid the price for it. Someone who is very loved and has an uncle waiting for him somewhere in this town, and friends who would do anything for him. And now, he’s writing you letters, and you wonder if he is feeling the same way that you are starting to feel…what are you feeling, exactly?

Sitting up from the couch, you grab a pen and paper from your bag.

“Hello Eddie” no.

“Hey, stranger” no.

“What’s up!” definitely not.

Another balled up paper tossed to the ground.

“Dear Eddie,” sure why not, “I hope you are having a wonderful holiday season yourself. Hopefully your uncle can come and see you for whatever you celebrate. If not, at least a phone call would be nice. Does the prison give you anything special for the holidays? Like a turkey for Thanksgiving, ham for Christmas, the traditional stuff. I spent the holiday with-”

Steve and Robin. You know them! I know who you are, too. Totally not weird, right?

“-my friends. They called it “Friendsgiving,” I think it had something to do with a TV show. None of us like to cook, so we ended up just picking up stuff at the store and then going out to a local bar. I’m writing this letter the next day, a little hungover I have to admit. But, writing this letter has helped distract me from the migraine I’m trying to stave off. It’s been very busy at school lately with projects, exams, a choir…thing? All that means for me is that I have mountains of paperwork to grade, and I spent the last month trying to get kids to turn in anything missing. It’s like trying to get squirrels to stay in a basket.

Winter break is just around the corner, though. Which means two weeks of getting to sleep in late, watching terrible TV reruns, and using the cold weather as an excuse to stay inside. Although, I think my friends will manage to get me out of my apartment one way or another. I feel like a cat who was adopted by two dogs who share the same brain cell. But, they have helped me a lot over the last couple of months so I owe it to them to be their voice of reason sometimes.”

You pause and have a laugh to yourself. You think about all the ridiculous adventures the two of them have taken you on in the last few months, doing things that you would never have done before Henry. They’ve taken the hard metal bones out of your binding and started loosening the strings. You wonder if you would have even said yes to doing this letter thing if you hadn’t already had your boundaries pushed a little.

“I hope this isn’t too much to ask, but do you have any big plans for when you get out? Places you want to go? Food you want to try? People you want to see?”

You smile when you dot the last question mark. It feels sneaky to ask when you know that your meeting is inevitable, and there is a small voice in your ear telling you that he wouldn’t want to meet you. You’re boring. Simple. Dull. Only shades of grey fill your wardrobe, your heart, where there was once colour. Broken.

The new bottle of wine you got at the gas station stares at you from the kitchen.

Anyway.

“Hopefully you’re able to get out in time for the summer. Wouldn’t it be nice to walk outside as a free man and get to feel the sun on your skin? I think Hawkins is having a Rose festival again next year. There could be some inspiration there for you for your art, and if not, the funnel cakes are worth the admission price. Everything else is overpriced, but what isn’t nowadays?”

Filling the last bit of the back of the page, you felt it only fair to give a few details about yourself. Just a general description, nothing too revealing. Not that there was much to give away since becoming a professional educator has taken any creative freedom from your sense of style. You did tell him that on the weekends you treated yourself by wearing comfy clothes all day. You didn’t tell him that you only felt okay to do that recently, since your ex husband always expected you to look your best.

As you reached the bottom, you remembered the redacted section of his last letter. Do should you ask about it? Would he even be able to tell you? You went ahead and brought it up.

“Before I close this letter, I am curious to know why the last bit of your letter had been marked out. I can only imagine what you could have asked that it had to be taken out. I hope it wasn’t inappropriate, Mr.Banished.” You added a little “ha ha” in parentheses so he knew you were just joking, careful once again not to offend.

“Looking forward to your next letter,”

You signed your name, fighting the urge to draw a heart next to it like the girls in your class writing notes to their crush. There was no way that feeling like this for someone that you’ve only had correspondence through letters and the bit of hype from your mutual friends can be healthy. Grabbing the box of greeting cards that you had sat on the coffee table, you wrote some well wishes and folded your letter to fit within the confines of the red envelope. You took a look at it for the first time since Bridges had handed them over and your heart dropped.

In one of the ethics classes you took in college a classmate did a presentation on Pendleton Prison. It had just come out the year before that there had been an abuse of power and prisoners were basically being tortured. It was hard to observe but informative. You couldn’t even imagine something like that happening to Eddie. You wondered if the reason they were participating in this program to begin with was to help with their reputation. We’ll let them talk to some kids and it will seem like we’re not abusing our inmates.

You look at the wine bottle again.

It’s fine. If Eddie was going through something like that, surely he would have told Steve and Robin, his uncle. But you wanted to be sure. You walk into your kitchen.

December 25th, 1994

“…You can say hello when you see me. You don't have to be afraid. There's a lot of things going around about me, but none of it's true. Okay?”

Your eyes flutter open, and you quickly close them when the harsh light of your tv playing Home Alone was too bright. Another dream about Eddie had taken over your mind in your sleep. You sit back to the door, the key in your hand. He doesn’t push you anymore, says to only give the key if you want to. That he enjoys your company no matter what.

Sigh.

As you sit up from the couch where you had dozed off the night before, you decide to make a cup of coffee and ring your brother.

“I could have come to get you. And brought you back. You know I don’t mind-“

“No, no, it’s okay, really. You have your own family now, I don’t want to dampen the mood,” you say as if you mean it. Coffee swishes around in your mug as you talk. It was true that your brother had a family of his own and was living the American dream. You liked that he invited you to be part of that, but you just couldn’t get past the notion that everyone would just look at you with pity. You’d rather be alone

Steve and Robin also invited you to Colorado with them. Steve’s parents had a house in Aspen where they were hosting Christmas this year. Steve insisted his parents wouldn’t care if you tagged along since they started to become fond of Robin. As much as seeing the beautiful snow covered mountains of Colorado sounds like a great reprieve for your mind, you still lied and told them you were going to your brothers. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

The sound of Kevin McCallister’s hijinks in New York got your attention. The movie distracted you for a while, until it didn’t. You watched the tv -- well, rather you looked at it for until you stood up, deciding to get out of the house, even if just to drive around.

The movie-esque scenery of small town Hawkins covered in snow was quiet and still, say for the few cars that you passed likely on the way to see family, traveling between houses. Something you and Henry did to make things fair for both of you. Your mom’s house first, then his parents.

Cars sat outside the Hideout, piquing your interest as you watched a man get out of a pick up truck and walk inside. It was close enough to five o'clock that you decided to pull into the lot, pulling into a spot by the door. Inside you were surprised to see it fairly occupied, mostly by men who looked like they worked at the factory in town or drove the big rig that was parked on the side of the building. The patrons seemed to talk amongst themselves, some semblance of holiday cheer keeping their spirits alive as their glasses clanked and boisterous laughs filled the air.

Sliding into an empty bar stool, you grabbed your purse to get your ID and some cash.

“Ain’t ya little young to be sittin’ alone at a bar on Christmas?”

You looked up from your purse at the man sitting next to you at the bar. He sipped from his glass, cigarette smoke seeping from his lips, attention set on nothing in particular. He was an older man, bald on top and plenty of aging on his face, but you had the feeling he was younger than he looked. Some of his features felt familiar to you but you weren’t sure why.

“Um, well, I guess so,” you stutter as you set your purse down between your feet. “But, uh, I really didn’t want to spend Christmas alone.”

A hum and a nod, “I guess loneliness knows no age.” He huffed a laugh before getting the bartender's attention. “What are you drinking?”

“Oh, no, please, you don’t-” you begin to protest, but he puts his hand up and waves you off.

“Trust me,” he takes a long drag from his cigarette, “I would be buying it for someone else if they could be here.”

Ah. You tell the bartender your order and the man tells him to put it on his tab.

“Thank you,” you give him a genuine smile, turning towards him to speak as the bar patrons become louder. You paused for a beat before speaking again, “I’m sorry you’re alone today.”

“Makes no difference to me really, just another day to me,” he takes a sip of his beer. You almost miss it, but you see the flash of a smile on his face.

“Just another day, huh,” you say smugly, dipping your head into his line of vision. He must have realized he was smiling because he covered his hand with his mouth shyly, the motion a contradiction to his hard exterior. Clearing his throat, he sat up in his seat, opening from his hunched position to talk with you properly.

“It’s just another day, always been to me, but,” He looks at you for a moment, then back down into his beer, “I used to celebrate, for my boy. Haven’t gotten to do that properly in a while. I’m hopin’ this year will be the last, that next year will be different.”

His endearment made your eyes misty. “That’s so sweet,” you coo, putting a hand on coat covered arm, “I’m sure things will work out.” You pull back when your drink is dropped off, quickly taking a few sips.

The man watches you, his head shaking in your peripherals. “So, what’s really got ya out here celebrating with Hawkins finest? Besides the, uh,” he gestures vaguely, “cheerful atmosphere.”

You stay quiet for a moment, eyes focused on the straw floating in your drink. Deep breath in, and out. “Do you want the half truth or the full truth?”

His body bounces from a chuckle, “I got a little time.”

Pouring your heart out to a stranger over drinks felt therapeutic, and not in the same way as talking to Robin and Steve. He just listened, nodded his head, grunted in what you assume to be agreement. This man, who looks like he hasn’t taken a day off in his life, made you feel more valid with no words at all than anyone else has in your entire life besides your own mother.

“And now I’m, like, kinda into this guy, but he doesn’t know I exist,” your words are a little slurred as you take down another drink. “Sorry, no, he knows I exist, but he knows nothing about me. Like, he knows some things, but he doesn’t really know me, ya know?”

His head bobs up and down, takes another drag of his cigarette.

“I feel weird feeling this way, because I would never have even considered a guy like him before. Henry, I told you about Henry, he was super uppity, snotty. A real tight ass. But, this guy is funny. Genuine, and his friends talk him up. Who wouldn’t fall for a guy like that? Even if he is rough around the edges.”

“Well, if it doesn’t work out with you and this guy, I outta introduce you to my nephew. He was always picked on in school for being different, but he’s a good kid. Just got into the wrong stuff,” the mans face sunk a bit, “My fault really.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “How so?”

“Heart attack. Had one while at work. Stayed in the hospital for a few, got the bill and almost had another one,” he chuckles at that. “I wasn’t even gonna tell ‘em, but he came over to visit and I forgot about it. Saw it sittin’ on the counter. Next thing I know he’s callin’ me sayin’ he’s booked on ‘possession with intent to distribute’. Buncha bull for some grass.” He put his cigarette out with a harsh stab. “But, he’ll be good soon. My deadbeat brother’s been keepin’ an eye on him in there and he’s been keeping his good behavior streak.”

“He sounds like a good kid,” you rest your cheek against the cool counter as you smile up at him.

“Yeah, he is.” His smile reaches his eyes, and so does yours.

“Well, gotta go, darlin’,” he slaps a couple bills on the counter and nods to the bartender, “Excpectin’ a call here soon. Get you some pretzels or somethin’ before ya take off.”

“Thank you,” your brows come together, “sorry, I don’t think I ever caught your name?”

“Names Wayne.”

“Nice to meet you, Wayne.”

thanks for reading.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x teacher!reader #eddie munson x yn #inmate!eddie munson #inmate!eddie munson x reader #inmate!eddie munson x teacher!reader #oto!eddie #eddie munson series #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson st

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tearsfortheyouth · 1 year ago

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OBSESSION - Steve Kemp, Part One

Oh lord help me, what did I get myself into. Here’s a multi-part Steve Kemp fic that’s been on my mind for a while.

- WARNING(S): NON-CON/DUB-CON, grief, drug abuse, kidnapping, Steve Kemp is a red flag himself, cannibalism, manipulation, blood

I hurried down the busy sidewalk, my hand gripping a thin piece of fabric as I shoved through people. “Sorry!” I called behind me as I accidentally collided with someone’s shoulder, sending the man an apologetic smile.

The crispy morning air nipped at my nose, my cheeks a gentle red. My lips were chapped, the chilly autumn air kissing them harshly. Finally, I reached her destination, and I swung open the door, the bell chiming from above me.

The smell of coffee filled the air, and I inhaled, breathing heavily as I moved behind the counter, muttering an apology to my store manager.

The older woman studied me. “Thanks for deciding to grace us with your presence,” she dryly quipped, her eyes flicking back down towards the milk she was currently steaming.

“I’m sorry, Mallory,” I breathed, tying my long hair into a messy ponytail. “I slept past my alarm.” Quickly, I wrapped my black apron around my waist, tying it into a neat bow behind my back.

Mallory hummed, unamused, before calling out the name of the customer, placing the finished beverage onto the handoff counter. She turned to face me, a thin eyebrow raised. “This is the fourth time this month, (Y/N). You can’t keep doing this. You were scheduled almost an hour ago.”

I winced slightly, my lip tucked between my teeth. “I’m supposed to get my medicine tomorrow. I swear it won't happen again.”

Mallory nodded as I got to work with another order, placing a croissant into the oven. From behind me, I could feel her gaze burning a hole into the back of my head. I ignored her, my gaze focused on the pastry in the oven.

“Have the nightmares gotten any better?” She asked carefully, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips.

I remained silent, bagging up the croissant and calling out the name. “It doesn’t matter, Mallory,” I quickly brushed off, sending her a quick warning glance.

Mallory was silent, a sigh escaping her. “Okay.” She wiped off the counter with a washcloth, cleaning the spilt coffee from the rush earlier. “Well, I’ll be in the back getting some stuff done. Call me if you need me.”

I nodded quickly, sending her a small smile. She disappeared through the door, and I let out a shaky sigh.

Sleeping at night wasn’t the easiest. Since the day she had disappeared, the nightmares hadn’t ceased. The day she disappeared, the color seemed to drain from my world. It had been five months — five long months. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat. Hell, I couldn’t even close her eyes without seeing her youthful face, her eyes filled with the rarest kind of joy. Happiness like that didn’t exist anymore, not in anyone. But Lilith wasn’t just anyone. She was my sister, my best friend, my savior. She was everything to me.

I didn’t want to believe she was gone and never coming back. I didn’t want to accept a life without her light. A life without her was a life of loneliness, a life of misery and suffering that she wanted no part of.

After the first month of Lilith being missing, it seemed as if the city forgot about her. She was just another woman in a city of millions. Hundreds of people go missing every year, and Lilith was no exception. It seemed as if those who knew me were walking on eggshells, afraid to bring it up.

It was as if she no longer existed.

Lilith Marie had been forgotten. No family, no friends, she was an outsider.

She was an outsider — she was like me.

——————————-

Four hours into my shift, the coffee shop had begun to settle down as customers began to hurry to their jobs. It had been a minute since someone had ordered. To not seem like I was standing around, I carefully wiped at the counter, the washcloth damp against my skin.

My black shirt had since been stained with powder from the pastries, caramel drizzle and coffee stains painting my pants in patterns.

Knowing the slow pace of the shop was only temporary, I set the rag down with a sigh, beginning to stock the fridges with milks and other ingredients I would need to make it through another rush.

Just as I was placing a new almond milk jug into the fridge, the bell rang, signaling that a customer had walked in.

I turned, bumping the fridge door shut with my hip before making my way to the counter, my eyes on the small tablet to take orders. “Hi,” I greeted monotonously, forcing a smile on my tired face. “What can I get started for you?”

Glancing up, blue eyes met my own. A man stood tall on the other side of the counter, a charming smile tugging at his pink lips. “Good morning,” he smiled, a hand coming to rub at his chin.

He was a good looking man—a shockingly handsome man, even. His eyes seemed to glance right through me, dark hair adorning his face. He was older, maybe a good six or seven years older than myself, but it didn’t take away from his attractiveness. In fact, being older seemed to suit him.

I found myself staring for too long, and I blushed slightly, my eyes falling back down to the iPad in my hand.

“Wait a minute,” he began, leaning forward slightly as he gazed at me carefully. “Do I know you?”

My brows furrowed, and I looked back up at him. Did I know him? He didn’t seem familiar, though it wasn’t like I spoke to anyone anyways.

Slowly, I shook my head, my lips parting. “Um, I don’t think so?” I stated, confusion laced in my voice. “I don’t recognize you.”

His eyes examined me a bit further now, his dark brows knitted closely together as he thought. Finally, he seemed to come to a conclusion, and his eyes lit up slightly. “You ran into me this morning.”

I blushed further, the memory of accidentally shoulder-checking someone replaying in my head. Dear god, I thought to myself, embarrassment filling me.

“I am so sorry, I was late to work and was kind of in a hurry,” I quickly defended myself, trying to save myself from further embarrassment.

He chuckled at my words, his hand held out in a surrendering manner. “Don’t worry,” he replied, a smile on his handsome face. “Been there done that many times before.”

A sigh of relief escaped me, and I let out an awkward laugh, a hand coming to brush a flour-coated strand of hair away from my face.

“Besides, I can’t complain about a pretty barista literally KO-ing me on the streets. I’m livin’ the dream,” he joked, and I could feel my cheeks growing hot.

Male attention was slightly foreign to me. I had been an awkward kid all my childhood, and I didn’t start getting male attention until I had graduated college. It felt…strange to be flirted with.

“I really am sorry about that,” I said quickly, a nervous laugh falling from my lips. I didn’t know what to say other than apologize.

I felt warm under his gaze, and I wiped my palms on my apron once more.

He waved my words off. “Don’t worry about it. As I said, livin’ the dream.” He smiled. “I’ll take a large black coffee.”

Quickly, I punched in his order. “Did you want any cream or sugar in there?”

“No thanks. The bitter taste wakes me up,” he explained, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

I hummed at his reply, telling him the price and taking his card. Quietly, I asked for his name, to which he told me “Steve.”

Steve.

“It’ll be out in just a second,” I told him simply, and he held a thumbs up, sending me a smile as he took a seat at one of the tables.

Steve seemed nice.

I was quick to make his coffee, careful to not splash the hot liquid onto my skin as I poured it into a cup. Setting it onto the handoff counter, I called his name. Quickly, he came to the counter, striding towards his coffee and picking it up.

“Thank you…” he trailed off, his brows knitted together.

“(Y/N),” I told him, smiling softly at the man.

He said my name quietly, as if seeing how the name felt on his tongue. “(Y/N)…” he smiled, nodding his head. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

And just like that, he was gone.

I stared at his retreating figure, feeling somewhat confused and embarrassed. He strode from my eyesight outside, disappearing down the block.

“Hmm..” I hummed, brows furrowed.

“Who was that?’ Mallory’s voice sounded from behind me, and I jumped slightly at the sudden noise. Turning towards her, I rolled my eyes.

“No one. Can I take my lunch break now?”

————————————

It was late when I returned home to my apartment. The night had settled in, blackening the streets and casting an eerie glow into my small apartment.

Closing the door behind me, I locked it, a tired sigh escaping me.

My apartment was small, but it was enough. I had made it into a cozy home, and it was certainly mine.

Setting my keys onto the table, I took out my ponytail, letting my long hair fall to my waist.

Though I was exhausted, I knew I wouldn’t get much sleep tonight.

It was the same thing every night: turn on the lights, feed the cat, lay in bed, and stare up at the ceiling.

Sighing, I went into my bathroom, silent as I began to run a bath. As I waited for the water to fill the bath, I undressed myself, rinsing my face with the cold water of the sink.

Looking into the mirror, I frowned slightly, my pink lips pouted. Slowly, I forced herself to smile, watching as my lips turned upwards.

I cringed.

My smile no longer reached my eyes. It was as if my eyes had lost all life, like a fog had clouded them. My smile dropped, and I bit my cheek in disappointment.

I missed being happy. I longed to feel something again, and yet no matter how hard I tried, nothing worked. It was like an empty void had taken hold of me and everyday, it felt as if I were falling further and further into the ocean of depression.

Running a hand through my hair, I moved it so it was out of my face before stepping away from the counter.

Turning the hot water off, I silently climbed in, skin burning from the heat. The burning soon melted away, being replaced with instant warmth that flooded through my bones. It was like a warm blanket had engulfed me, comforting me.

Ever since the disappearance, I had found comfort in the nightly baths.

Opening my eyes to stare at the ceiling, I let my head rest on the rim of the tub, a breath escaping my lips.

When my bath was over, I dressed myself, my cat meowing loudly as she begged me to feed her. I leaned over, smiling softly and giving her a pet. “Are you hungry, my love?”

She stared up at me and meowed, and I giggled, giving her some kitty food before returning back to my room. It was almost midnight now, and I yawned, throwing myself tiredly onto the bed in the middle of my room.

A few minutes later, as my cat curled up on my pillow beside my head, my blinking began to slow, and finally, I drifted into a light sleep.

Unfortunately, the nightmares were quick to follow.

————————-

A week came and went, and then another, and another, and soon, autumn turned into winter.

The medication achieved its goal of helping me sleep, and it kept the nightmares at bay. Since the day I had picked them up, I hadn’t dreamt. Soon, it became easier to close my eyes without seeing her face.

Lilith no longer haunted my body, mind and soul. Though she had left a scar, a clear indication that she had been there, it was getting easier to breathe.

Lilith would always be with me, for my heart was filled with her and her alone. But for the first time in months, my heart had become my own once more.

I was working an evening shift at the coffee shop today, sweeping up the floors and ridding it of the coffee grounds that seemed to plague it. It had been a partially slow day, and Mallory had gone home early to be with her children for the holidays. Christmas was a week from today, and though the streets of New York were bustling with last minute shoppers, the coffee shop I worked at had been the exception.

Dumping the dustpan into the trash, I heaved an annoyed sigh. The trash was filled to the brim.

Taking advantage of the completely empty coffee shop, I decided to take it out, tying the plastic into a knot and lifting it from the bin. Making my way outside, the chilly air licked at my skin, goosebumps rising as I strode to the dumpster a couple yards away. It was dark outside, and it was almost time to close up the coffee shop.

The trash was heavy, and I was just barely able to hold it up to my hips. My breathing blew up into puffs of smoke, the gravel beneath my feet crunching as I hurried to the dumpster.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” A voice called from behind me, and I jumped, a scream escaping my chapped lips.

“Fuck,” I breathed, my eyes wide as they met a pair of icy blue ones.

The man before me was the very same one who stood in the coffee shop weeks ago, the same man who I had bumped into on the streets that morning — and yet, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember his name.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled, catching up to me. Seeing I was struggling to carry the trash bag, he quickly reached out to help me. “Here, I got it.”

Before I could protest, he had grabbed the bag from me, his strong arms easily lifting it up. I blinked, muttering a quiet thank you, feeling slightly guilty for not remembering his name.

“What…what are you doing here?” I asked him, walking with him towards the dumpster.

He turned to cast me a charming smile, his white teeth flashing. “I wanted a coffee, but I noticed the store was empty. Had to make sure you weren’t killed by some psychopath,” he grinned.

I nodded quietly, my brows furrowing.

How had he known I was working…?

“Yeah, well, I’m all good,” I awkwardly replied, breathing into my hands to warm them up as the man threw the heavy bag into the trash.

“Come on, let's get inside. My god, you’re shaking.” Quickly, he shrugged off his jacket, placing it over my shaking frame, and I cringed uncomfortably.

“Oh, um, thank you,” I muttered, looking to the floor beneath our feet as we hurried back into the store.

He smiled in return, moving in front of me to open the door, waiting for me to go inside first. The bell chimed from above us, the cafe still empty. The people on the streets had retreated, given that it was now fairly late at night. Glancing at the clock, I breathed a sigh of relief.

10:30pm — closing time.

Suddenly remembering the warm fabric draped over my shoulders, I was quick to shrug it off, smiling awkwardly as I handed it to him, my cheeks a light shade of pink. “Want your coffee now?” I asked him, turning behind us and flipping the opened sign around, signaling to those that we were now closed.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, sure. It’s going to be a long night so I could use the caffeine.”

I hummed in response, moving around him and making my way behind the counter, grabbing a coffee cup. “Trying to pull an all-nighter?” I asked, my brows raising as I poured him his cup of coffee. The air felt stuffy, my head foggy.

The medication was starting to wear off, and my mind, soul, and body craved the warmth the meds would bring.

I blinked harshly, trying to stay grounded.

From behind me, I heard him breathe a tired sigh. “Pretty much, yeah. I have some files I need to go over before tomorrow morning.”

Passing him his coffee, I gave him a questioning look.

He noticed this, and we quickly explained. “I’m a surgeon and I have a client tomorrow who pretty much bought a new face.”

“Hmm… sounds about right.” This city was full of many who had opted for plastic surgery, so it didn’t exactly come as a shock. When he began to tug out his wallet, I shook my head. “You’re covered tonight.”

He smiled in appreciation, bringing the coffee to his lips, a hm escaping him. Licking his lips, he nodded. “I swear, you have the best coffee in town, (Y/N).”

My face heated, and I wiped my palms on my stained jeans. “Well, technically, Mallory has the best coffee in town,” I corrected him, and he rolled his eyes. “Y’know, since she’s the store manager and she’s the one who supplies.”

“Yeah, but I like when you make me my coffee.”

I scoffed, bending down into a cabinet and grabbing a trash bag, moving to replace the one I had just taken out.

Though I wasn’t facing him, I could feel his gaze burning a hole into my head, his eyes watching me carefully. I ignored the feeling, bringing a hand up to wipe my forehead as I resumed sweeping the floor.

“Well,” he finally began, taking a step backwards towards the door. “I should probably….” He pointed back towards the door, and I fought a smile at his awkwardness.

“Yeah,” I said, an amused smile tugging at my lips.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice low. It sounded somewhat disappointed, and he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Well, good night, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight…..?” My cheeks flushed as he quirked an eyebrow.

“Wow, you totally don’t remember my name.” He placed a hand over his heart, his face contorting into a feigned look of hurt.

I grimaced. “Not, no, I do remember it…Alex?”

He cringed, his lips pursed as he shook his head.

“Uh, Ben?”

“Wrong, again.”

“Okay, okay wait.”

He paused, his hand resting on the door handle behind him.

“Stephen.”

He groaned, his hand rubbing his face dramatically.

I paused for a moment, my eyes scanning him.

“Steve,” I finally decided, and he started clapping.

“The one, the only,” he grinned, taking another sip of his coffee.

Finally, I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek.

He really did have such a plain name.

He stared at me for a minute in silence, and I continued my sweeping, picking up the trash in the lobby.

“Can I drive you home tonight?” He asked, his voice soft. He seemed slightly embarrassed, and he reached to scratch the back of his head, a sheepish grin adorning his face.

Looking up, I glanced at him, and he could immediately tell I was slightly put off.

“I mean, I noticed there were no cars outside, and I remembered when you were running through the streets, so I just realized you didn’t have a car,” he rambled. “It’s freezing outside and I just want to be sure you make it home safe, Y’know?”

“Please don’t think I’m a creep,” he finished, his voice pleading.

I was silent for a moment, trying to get a grasp on a decision.

I could say no, tell him I wasn’t at all interested and continue living the life I had been living for the last couple of months. I could continue to grasp at the memory of my best friend. My best friend, who no matter how much I yearned to come back, would most likely never return home to me.

Or, I could say yes. Perhaps this one drive home blossoms into another ride home, into Steve coming in to visit me. Maybe, it even turns into dating. He was a good looking man who seemed genuinely interested in me. Maybe, I could heal from my past and finally find happiness again.

I could truly start living my life again.

Goosebumps rose on my skin as I decided.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

#Steve kemp #sebastian stan #dark!sebastian stan #Sebastian Stan x reader #dark!steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #fresh movie #dark! Sebastian Stan x reader #bucky barnes #marvel

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