#asking Steve six million questions

[sp0o0kylights]

I'm rewatching S3 and there's a part at the very end of the 7th episode where Mike tells Dustin he couldn't understand half of what he said over the walkie.

Dustin responds by going: "Goddamn low battery"

AND STEVE, our BOY responds by going "How many times do I have to tell you with the low battery!?"

WHICH MEANS: this is a situation that's happened before, specifically, happened enough between the two of them that Steve's bitched multiple times about how Dustin needs to replace his batteries more often bc he lets them go low.

So either somewhat vigilant Steve is canon OR (the more likely scenario canon wise) Dustin bothers the living shit out of Steve with the walkie and Steve just casually accepts this as part of their friendship, and gets annoyed when Dustin's battery dies on the reg lol.

[l0vergirlwrites]

gulity as sin ; eddie munson

synopsis: since eddie joined your friend group, you’ve fallen for him. but sometimes the feelings you’ve harboured for him make you feel guilty—but he’s just too dreamy, so how could anyone blame you?

warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of weed & alcohol & partying, mentions of sexual thoughts, downbad!reader & eddie, love confession & makeout!!!!

note: i just had to get this out of my system but i’ll write my next ttpd fic based on the winning things on the polls don’t worry!!

“just so you know, you’re staring at eddie like you wanna fuck him” robin whispered in your ear as she came to your side with extra vcr tapes to stack near the back of the store.

“jesus! am i really?” you asked in a hushed whisper, face crowing warm with embarrassment. you couldn’t help it when eddie just looked so good as he leaned on the front counter talking to steve.

while you mentally face palmed yourself, robin gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “just a little bit”

peeking back over her shoulder at eddie to make sure he wasn’t looking at you (because you’re anxious & paranoid), you let out a breath of relief. “you think he noticed?”

she laughed “i hope not”

letting out a quiet gasp, you shoved robin’s shoulder “thanks for the vote of confidence, rob” you said sarcastically.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!—but seriously…” she paused for moment to create dramatic effect. “when are you gonna fess up & tell him how you feel?”

the big question.

with a big sigh, you shook your head in retreat. “probably never. it’s just some stupid crush—& besides, we’re just friends. i don’t know if he’d like me like that, rob.” you said while getting back to work, trying to get the image of eddie’s ring clad hands out of your mind so you could focus.

“is that really how you feel? or is your fear of rejection speaking for you?”

narrowing your eyes at her, you rolled your eyes knowing she was kidding (but was she? were you really hiding behind a guise so you wouldn’t get hurt?).

“you know,” she paused to look at eddie. “if he doesn’t want to jump your bones, i’d be floored” she said cheekily, causing you to nudge her rib cage.

“he doesn’t” you stated, but in your mind you hated the thought of it.

“if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night” she chided before moving onto a different shelf, the open space letting your eyes drift back to eddie, only to find that he was looking right at you.

“you coming to the party by reefer rick’s place on the weekend? i convinced stevie boy here to tag along—“

“—& to be the DD. i don’t know how i got roped into this” steve cut eddie off with an exasperated expression.

with the spotlight (eddie’s eyes) on you, you couldn’t help but feel stuck in place & your mind was running a million miles a minute.

clearing your throat, you nodded. “yeah sure! i should be able to if keith doesn’t make me come in last minute”

the last sentence caused eddie to roll his eyes.

“who cares about what keith says—you’re coming & you’re gonna have fun! you’re deserving of blowing off some steam, right?” eddie said convincingly.

“he’s right! fuck keith & his stupid last minute shift calls“ robin agreed with steve soon following suit.

jokingly with your hands up in surrender, you finally agreed. “maybe you guys are right…”

“of course we are, babe!”

the pet name eddie called you made your stomach flip in six directions, your face growing warm until steve beat you to speak.

“when the hell did ‘babe’ get into your vocabulary, munson?” he asked eddie with a quizzical eye.

“oh calm your tits harrington—“

“hey man, i don’t have tits & i am calm so shut—“

“hey!” you yelled, shutting them both up. “no bickering on my watch, idiots” you pointed to them both, causing eddie to place his right hand in his heart in apology.

“what do you expect,” robin chimed in. “they’re five year olds”

you both laughed a bit at her comment while the guys just rolled their eyes.

“well, i’m gonna head out & prep for my next campaign. butttt, i’ll see you geeks saturday?” he asked while twirling his van keys around his index finger.

before steve could try to rebuttle against eddie about him calling you all “geeks”, you beat him to it.

“yes—we’ll be there! bye eds” you waved sweetly, your hand flattering when eddie shot you a wink before heading out the door.

as the glass door chimed & shut after his departure, you immediately turned to robin.

“he winked at me!” you mouthed to her with excitement.

“are you guys secretly talking without including me, again?”

turning to steve, you gave him an apologetic look. “she was just fawning over how eddie winked at her” robin said with a nonchalant smile, causing you to gasp.

“robin—“

“why do you care if he—wait… ohhh… that makes sense” he lit up like a light bulb, going back to checking through the return log on the computer.

you stood there stumped at his reaction.

“is me liking eddie predictable?” you asked aloud, causing steve & robin to share a glance.

“yes” they said collectively, leaving you to sigh & turn back to the shelf to finish stacking the pile of tapes.

**~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~**~*~*~~***~*

it was now saturday, & you were on speaker phone with robin as you were getting ready for the party.

you had decided to wear a short flowy black skirt, fishnet tights, your favourite black boots, & a dark green babytee with your favourite band on it. it was simple, but cute (& you secretly hoped eddie would think the tights were a nice touch).

“do you think you’ll tell eddie how you feel once you get some liquid courage in you?” she asked genuinely.

with a thoughtful sigh, you stopped applying blush to your right cheek. “gosh, rob—i don’t know. i don’t think it’s a good idea”.

you could tell she was shaking her head from the other side of the phone.

“remember when i was too afraid to tell vicky i liked her?”

you knew what she was gonna say. “yes, i do”

“so, you remember how you told me i should just ‘go for it! do it before it’s too late—what’s the worst that could happen?’, right?”

you slumped in your desk chair, fidgeting with your makeup brush. “yes…”

“sooo, you gotta practice what you preach—tell him before you regret it!” she encouraged, but still, you were horrified to.

“what if—“

she shushed you. “no what ifs. don’t do that to yourself—just be honest when the right moment comes along”

staying silent for a moment, you thought it over in your head before coming to a conclusion.

“maybe you are right, robin”

“i’m always right—regardless of what steve says” her words made you laugh, relieving you of a little stress.

**~*~*~~~*~***~*~**~**~*~*~~*

it was now nine-thirty on the dot & you could hear steve’s beamer honking from your driveway, signalling that it’s time to go. as soon as you stepped onto your driveway, you were met with hollers & whistles from your friends in the car—including eddie.

as soon as you saw him with his head out the window, whistling & vocally saying “shit y/n, looking good!”, you could’ve sworn you were going to collapse then & there.

shushing them before their hyper annoyed your neighbours, you (coincidentally) got into the backseat with eddie.

“you have everything?” steve asked before reversing the car.

“yes, dad” you joked before a silver flask was shoved into your lap.

“got you your favourite” eddie told you with a smile, causing you to audibly “awe” & thank him before taking a swing from it.

despite steve having a fancy car, the backseat was surprisingly small, so you knew it was going to be a long night with how your thigh is already pressed into eddie’s & his fingers were tapping his jean clad thigh dangerously close to your exposed one.

you caught him every now & then staring at your tights too, which didn’t help the fantasies brewing in your mind of him taking them off you.

“you excited?” you asked him while steve & robin were caught in their own conversation.

swiping his tongue across his teeth, he looked at you with a gaze that made your stomach tighten. “as long as you stick close by, then yeah i’m excited” he nudged you gently, allowing you a moment to process what he just fucking said.

tucking your hair behind your ears (a sign that you were nervous & liked him & were going insane), you let the conversation drift into comfortable silence as steve turned the radio up.

thank god for that.

**~*~~**~**~***~**~*~~**~**~*

the party eddie brought you guys to was packed at some random house on lover’s lake.

& it reeked of pot & beer, which was normal & expected.

with the flask eddie gave you in your right hand & eddie’s hand in your other (because the front lawn was packed & he didn’t want to lose you), your group maneuvered your way inside to disco party lights, sweaty bodies, more pot & more beer.

your grip on eddie’s hand was taut as you continued sliding past more & more people while muttering “excuse me, sorry!” over & over until you guys arrived on the dance floor.

“do you want anything?” eddie leaned down & whispered into your ear so you could hear over the music.

you took a second to answer because of how warm his breath felt against your skin. “no i’m okay, i got this remember?” you said with a smile, holding up the flask he gave you.

returning you a smile, eddie let go of your hand because robin was pulling you to dance a little.

“be back in five!” eddie mouthed to you, holding up five fingers & looking at you until you waved in acknowledgment.

“okay there’s no way he doesn’t want you” robin yelled into your ear as the song changed & people roared happily.

laughing & shaking your head, you disagreed.

“cmon! let’s just dance, yeah? destress!” steve yelled to you both before bopping his head to the music, causing you & robin to look at each other before laughing & join in.

the more songs played & the more you swing back eddie’s flask, you could feel yourself letting loose a little—possibly even making you feel courageous.

so much so that when eddie returned with a red solo cup with some sort of drink, you slung your arm around his middle for a quick hug.

“missed me?” he yelled in your ear.

“just maybe” you replied, feeling his right hand rub your arm up & down before fetching a joint from his pocket.

“missed me more now?” he asked again, laughing when you nodded your head, eyes glassy from the smoke in the room that was building.

“outside?” he yelled again, & you were the only one that agreed.

*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~**~***~*

departing from steve & robin to go smoke, eddie grabbed your hand once again & kept you close as you both made your way to the back porch that outlooked onto the water.

the backyard was still filled with people, especially jocks who were doing dumb keg games, but you didn’t mind. with your back against the siding of the house & eddie in front of you, caging you in, all you saw was him.

& god he looked hot. his hair was a bit frizzy, but his leather jacket managed to showcase his muscular arms & his slightly cropped band tee allowed you to see the happy trail on his abdomen.

it took everything in your power not to fold then & there.

“you want the first hit?” eddie asked as passed you his drink & pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

with a simple nod, you placed the joint between your lipstick covered lips & leaned forward for eddie to light the end of it for you. the action felt extremely intimate & already hand your skin tingling.

with the joint slotted between your fingers, you took a few hits & relished in the buzzed feeling it already gave you. & knowing eddie & is interest in pot, you knew whatever was wrapped within the joint was the good shit.

while you were taking your hits, eddie was reminding himself to not get hard at the thought of your lipstick rubbing off onto the joint or how you looked pretty with smoke exhaling from your mouth—he could feel his pants start to feel the tiniest bit tight at his view of you.

when you handed the joint to him, eddie stood beside you on the wall & took his time (possibly so you could look at him a little longer?).

& you didn’t care because he just looked too perfect with his head tilted up, the veins in his neck showing in the porch light, the joint rested between his ring clad fingers—you could already imagine yourself getting off to this image of him later—but you reminded yourself to stay cool.

everything was fine! you guys were just friends!

“you feeling okay?” eddie asked, turning to you who was already giving him soft doe eyes.

“better than okay” you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder because you felt too warm under his gaze.

“wanna get off inside?” you heard him ask, causing you to cough & blink for a moment.

“shit—what did you say?” you looked at him, feeling his hand begin to interlock with yours again.

“i asked if you wanna go back inside—you sure you’re good?”

oh god, now you were hearing things.

“y-yeah, good idea” you mumbled as you followed his lead, holding on tight to avoid getting broken apart through the sea of teenagers & college students.

you only broke apart when robin pulled you in for a hug, hearing her say “it felt like you were gone for ages!”

for the rest do the night, you told yourself to he lost in the music rather than thoughts of eddie munson doing nasty things to you, which was going pretty successful until you felt his breath on your neck again.

“wanna dance?”

& how on earth could you say no?!?!

you let him pull you into his arms, his hands firm on your waist while yours were loose around his neck.

with the pot & other alcohol mixing in your system, you felt on top of the world. especially with eddie’s eyes on you. he’d twirl you around in circles & give you room to dance your heart out with him in your grasp & steve & robin would give each other knowing glances about whatever was brewing between you too.

you felt hot, sticky, & tingly all over your skin (not just because eddie was touching you) so you pulled his head down a bit to yell in his ear. “i’m gonna find a washroom!” & he was leading you around the house to find one without a question.

once you both found one of the third floor of this outrageous house, you pulled eddie in with you & turned on the light, thankful there was a dim setting.

“jesus, that was bright!” eddie shielded his eyes, causing you to laugh as you hopped up onto the counter.

exhaling a sigh of relief, you let your head lean back & rest against the mirror while eddie leaned against the closed door.

“do you need me to like, turn around or something…?” he asked, wondering what you were going to do.

“no—i just wanted to go somewhere quieter. less sweaty bodies”

he nodded understandingly before shamefully looking you up & down, telling himself to not get hard at the sight of you so pretty. you were already falling down a rabbit hole of all the things you want to do with him right now, each more dirty than the next—it would be just so easy for him to take off your skirt & unbuckle his pants—wouldn’t it?

but the guilt started to seep in & make you hide your face to groan in annoyance because why on earth were you spiralling like this?

“is something wrong?” he walked to you, holding your wrists & pulling them away to uncover you.

“just going insane is all” you replied, causing you both to laugh until he reached up to wipe off some of your smudged eyeliner from your under eye. he just needed to touch you somehow.

“guess what an old friend told me while i was getting a drink earlier”

you tilted your head in wonder, staring directly at eddie’s lips as he spoke.

“he saw us walk inside & told me that we looked like some couple from a movie—don’t remember which one though…” he ended with a murmur, too focussed on swiping his thumb on your cheek until you spoke up.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, suddenly feeling small in this washroom with his hand directly on your skin.

eddie was closing in on you now, & you didn’t want it to stop.

you instantly felt sober now. especially with how each swipe on your skin felt like he was making you his—which was definitely an exaggeration but how could you need feel that way when he was holding you so delicately?

shaking his head ‘no’, eddie’s brows furrowed. “of course not—it’s not a bad thing. i-i just thought it was, i dunno, cute—“

“cute?” you questioned softer than him, a smile in the beginning stages of forming on your face.

was this your moment that robin was talking about? you sure hoped so.

“i-i think that’s the right word” he stumbled over his words, feeling your right hand brush some hair out of his face.

“i think so too”

& then there was comfortable silence.

you weren’t sure how to move forward from here. do you tell him all your feelings for him that you’ve keep hidden in a vault at the back of your mind? do you tell him that you’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks? that he’s the only one that makes you feel so many things?

you wish this part was easier.

“would it be, i dunno, uncalled for if i told you that you’ve been driving me crazy?” eddie asked, immediately unlocking said vault inside you.

“are you serious?” you asked, completely sober now as you pulled his hand away from your face & fixed your posture, eyes locked on his for the answer.

“as serious as the dead” his breath hitched, unsure if he made things worse or misread whatever signs you sent, but before he could apologize your hands were already on his face to pull his lips to yours.

it was a messy, top lip & hungry kiss that you’ve been dying to experience since you first laid eyes on him. & god did it felt right, with his tongue meshing with yours & his hands gripping your fishnet covered thighs as he pulled you closer to his body with aching need.

it was the kind of kiss that tried to convey just how you felt about him, the wanting & lusting from afar, the longing glances & lip bites when he made you feel a certain type of way.

it was catastrophic & heavy but sweet with laboured breaths of beer & smudged lipstick.

“holy shit” eddie breathed out against your lips, chasing him for another kiss because it was just that good but you were smiling & clashing your teeth against his & giggling from how silly it all felt.

“that is why i’ve been going insane” you panted against him, hands falling to grip the cotton of his shirt.

“i’m crazy about you eddie. & it’s not the drugs talking, i promise” you swore, scouts honour.

with his forehead pressing against yours & laugh escaping his lips that had little bits of your lipstick, he squeezed your thighs. “i would hope not, ‘cause i’m really crazy about you too”

you closed your eyes now, relishing in the weight lifting off your shoulders & how his touch felt electric. “eddie” you exhaled.

“yeah, sweetheart?” his fingers were pressing different patterns on your thighs to the point where you asked in yourself if he was writing ‘mine’ across the fishnet material.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” you asked, already longing for this feeling to last, praying this wouldn’t be just a one time thing at a party.

“i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, so yeah, i think we can make it happen” eddie smirked, kissing you quick before pulling back to see your swollen lips.

“wanna go back to the party & surprise the geeks?”

“i’d love to”

& with eddie whisking you from the counter, hand on your hip as he lead you back downstairs, you both immediately saw steve & robin jumping up & down happily when they witnessed you two looking like love sick idiots who finally fessed up.

young love, am i right?

[cranberrymoons]

hey sweetheart

prompt: meetcute at work (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: e (18+) word count: 896 words tags: modern au, line cook eddie/waiter steve, hooking up

welcome to Day 4 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

Steve is halfway through his first week when he meets him: the line cook with the long hair pulled back in a bun, the stark black lines of tattoos snaking up his arms, the flirty little smile that he flashes in Steve’s direction when Steve comes back to pick up Table 6’s starters.

It’s a hell of a time to start a job in the first place: mid-holiday season, no one around to train him except Robin who’s only worked there a couple weeks longer than he has and knows next to nothing about The Way Things Work.

But she’s Robin, and she’s familiar, and she knows him well enough to warn him to avoid the flirty long-haired line cook with the big brown eyes and the dimples and the million watt smile directed right at him and – 

Fuck.

“Sweetheart, you rang in Table Twelve wrong,” the guy says, leaning forward over the pass with a ticket in his hand. “This says no onions, but the special isn’t made with onions.”

Steve stares at him as he loads Table Six’s plates onto a tray. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, but only barely.

“My name isn’t Sweetheart,” he says eventually. “And so – just extra don’t put onions on it. Who cares?”

The cook raises his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. “Thought it sounded nicer than ‘hey new guy’, but if you’d prefer that –”

“Steve,” he says. He shoulders his tray. “My name is Steve.”

The cook gives him a little smile, eyes flashing in the bright fluorescents of the kitchen.

“Alright, Sweetheart.” He tilts his chin up. “Extra no onions for Table Twelve, and you can call me Eddie.”

---

It continues on like that for a week or two: Eddie flirting, finding any excuse to ask a question about his ticket. 

Steve knows what he’s doing; he’s worked in restaurants before, and he’s fucked enough hot line cooks in his time that he should know better than to fall into the trap, but still, he finds himself drawn in, entertaining Eddie’s endless teasing and prodding and poking until he starts doing it back – little digs about his shift meal, questions about a menu item that he already knows the answer to.

“Dude,” Robin says, halfway through his first month. 

It’s rounding up on Christmas, and the place is packed, corporate groups out for holiday parties and couples on dates. 

“If you don’t stop flirting, I’m going to cut your fucking dick off,” she says. “Seriously.”

And – okay. That’s fair. 

Steve pulls himself away from where he’d been leaning over the pass, asking Eddie a question about the catch of the day that he’s already asked three times tonight. Clears his throat and straightens up. He tugs his tie back into place, claims the braised oxtail that’s destined for Table Two and clears his throat.

“Sorry.”

Eddie sends him a wink, and Steve feels himself flush.

“Please tell me you’re not going to fuck him,” Robin says as they exit the kitchen.

Steve sighs. “I’m not going to fuck him.”

---

And of course, he’s lying through his teeth.

The very next night, they’re both off work, and he gets a text from an unfamiliar number, just –

hey sweetheart 

Steve flushes as he stares down at his phone, scratching a hand back through his hair. He takes a breath.

Wonder who this could be , he texts back.

All he gets in response is a simple,

😇 

---

Two hours later, he’s flat on his back in Eddie’s bed, clinging to his shoulders and whining as Eddie fucks him so hard he loses his breath, so hard he feels like his brain is rattling around in his skull. He digs his teeth into Eddie’s skin, ankles locked around his back and not even bothering to hold back the noises that Eddie’s punching out of his chest, just –

“Fuck,” he gasps, voice coming high in the back of his throat. “Holy shit, I –”

Eddie’s mouth runs up the column of his neck, hands trailing over his skin, nails dragging sharp lines down his sides.

“You going to come for me, sweetheart?” he asks, voice low in his ear. “Show me how pretty you can be?”

And that’s – for some reason that sets Steve off, turns his skin over to fire as he grips tighter to Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging in, back arching off the bed, coming so hard he sees stars.

---

And then later, when they’re both fucked out and exhausted and Steve is preparing to take his cue to gather his clothes and make a graceful exit, he feels Eddie’s mouth skimming up the side of his neck, hand tangling in his hair, dragging him into another kiss.

A real one, with teeth and tongue and lips, a kiss that isn’t intended to go anywhere other than just to be , and his breath catches a little in his chest, hand skittering over Eddie’s back as he rolls over on top of him.

“Stay?” Eddie asks, voice quiet and hopeful and muffled where their mouths are still pressed together. He smiles, lips quirking up and drawing Steve along with him. “You know I know how to make breakfast.”

And Steve breathes out a quiet laugh, bumping their noses together. He sighs.

“As long as there’s bacon.”

[also on ao3]

[ichorai]

airbag ; steve rogers.

track one of OK COMPUTER.

pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

words ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?

warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)

main masterlist.

Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there. 

It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.

Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too. 

Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old. 

It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight. 

Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”

And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.

Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.

During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.

Will you marry me?

And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.

To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay. 

“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.

You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.

Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.

The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.

Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.

“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”

There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.” 

Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”

Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”

There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”

Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words. 

“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”

“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”

She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”

Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.

Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.

Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.

“I packed us sandwiches.”

“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car. 

“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”

Steve arched a brow. “Like?”

“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”

Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead. 

The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got. 

The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.

And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again. 

Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward. 

Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills. 

He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”

When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”

Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs. 

The proposal would have to wait another day, then.

He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”

“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.

He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.

Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”

“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”

You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next. 

“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.

“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”

Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”

The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often. 

Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.

It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.

He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.

And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you. 

To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut. 

With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead. 

The proposal would have to wait another day.

Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come. 

And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.

“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.

When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.

The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.

You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…

And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight. 

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view. 

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?

“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.

A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Did Natasha tell you?”

Tony snorted. “We all know.”

“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”

“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”

Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question. 

Or was it? 

“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”

With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”

Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests. 

Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.

“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”

And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again. 

Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?

He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.

His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music. 

Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy. 

“Sandy?” 

“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”

“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”

“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?” 

With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.

“Honey, I gotta go.” 

Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”

“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”

It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip. 

The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.

A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve. 

He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric. 

But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.

“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything. 

“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”

Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”

His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.

“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”

Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”

You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut. 

“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.

“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.

“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”

Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.

Should he? Now, when he had the chance?

“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on. 

Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.

“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”

Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.

“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.

A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears. 

Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.

“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”

Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother. 

A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief. 

“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone. 

“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”

Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”

Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”

The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.

“You ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—

But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.

“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head. 

Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”

Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.

And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it. 

The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe. 

“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.

You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.

When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FIFTEEN

in which Eddie learns what it means to be honest, and you learn that some answers can only lead to more questions.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4.7k+

→ a/n: this chapter is my enemy. that's all. all the homies hate this chapter for the hell it gave me both in writing it and posting it

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

15:00 ────────ㅇ─────── 24:00

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

You were so caught up in your own disappointment, you never saw the flash of recognition that crossed Eddie’s face. Only the anger that followed.

“Is that the dude who stood you up?” 

His voice is weak as he asks the question, a breath that barely reaches your ears as you jump at the unexpected proximity. 

“What?” you spin around to face him, “Jesus Christ, why are you creeping over my shoulder at my phone? Trying to see who else doesn’t follow me on Instagram?” 

He cringes at your bitter tone, all the vodka you’ve turned to venom in your hurt, “You didn’t answer my question – is that him?” 

“Why do you care?” 

It’s the short version of the real questions binding you. A million different threads of confusion, and each one constricts you tighter than the last, all of them tangling together in the confusion. 

Why do you care when you dislike me so vigorously? Why do you care when you’ll only use my answer as ammunition against me? Why do you care to hurt me so badly tonight? Why do you care if Nancy and I are friends? Why do you care to point out how I don’t belong in this group-

“I don’t,” he interrupts your internal panic, pausing the restless twisting of anxious twine. 

You take a deep breath, you let your eyes wander over him, taking him in. He’s ditched the soft-spoken act, his voice coming out powerful finally. The confidence is almost overdone; he sounds as if he’s trying to make up for something not there. 

You crave for distance to be put between the two of you, but he makes no move to step away as you ask, “Then why do you keep asking me?” 

You can’t begin to understand him, completely unsure of where to ever start with the task. He’s a hollow stranger of the man you’d initially met that night in the bar. You’ve seen how he acts with the others, how he treats Nancy like royalty at times and how he’s warm with Argyle. You’ve seen him share joints and laughter alike with Jonathan. It’s hard to miss when he and Steve both begin to get overly passionate about a topic, Robin always finding a way to join in. Eddie is capable of warmth and care, of friendship and genuine love, but not when it comes to you. 

“I was just curious, sue me.” 

“If I had a good lawyer, I would,” you snap back quickly, patience wearing thin. 

It makes him grin – a damn grin. Shit-eating as ever as he replies, “I know a guy if you’d like one,” and he keeps grinning, and you don’t even notice when a line is crossed and that faux glee no longer meets his eyes as he continues,  “Speaking of knowing a guy – do you know the guy on your screen?” 

The threads are twisting again, and the friction is leaving your blood boiling. “Fucking obviously.” 

“Is he the one who stood you up?” 

“Fuck off, Eddie.” 

You can’t handle this right now. You’re drunk – not so drunk you won’t remember the night, but still damn drunk – and you’re overthinking. Letting the threads cut off circulation to your brain, letting yourself only be consumed with overthinking about your place within the group. You don’t even have the capacity to question why Eddie is so persistent in finding out about the bartender who left you looking like a fool the night before; you miss his genuine, burning curiosity and the anger that still broods in him as your anxiety bubbles up. 

Were you and Nancy friends? Maybe Instagram did matter. Surely, she followed everyone else in the group, didn’t she? 

“Why won’t you just answer the question? Why are you so damn stubb-” 

“You don’t care!” you nearly scream, throwing your hands up in defeat, slamming your phone down onto the counter beside you, “You don’t care, you’ve made that clear, so I don’t understand why you need to hear me say it so fucking badly. Why do you need to hear me admit how pathetic I am? We both know where this is going – I say yes, you use it against me, I end up looking like a fool for a second night in a row,” your chest heaves and your eyes burn, but you won’t look at him. You can’t bear witness to him watching you bleed in the middle of Steve’s kitchen, “I’m not doing it. Not tonight.” 

He looks as if you had slapped him. Stunned, aghast, taking a step back to finally give you the space you had so desperately craved. You don’t even really care about it anymore; the damage is done and you’re already spiraling, thanks to him. 

“Do you think so little of me?” 

His voice is small again. Deceptively soft, a treacherous whisper you know you can’t look into. He’s not really hurt. It’s all probably an act, a guise to get you to play into how he wants the night to go. 

“With what you’ve given me to work with?” you scoff, still blinking your eyes rapidly, trying to stave off the waterworks, “Yeah. Yeah, I am starting to think that little of you.” 

“Have you considered I was just trying to be friend-” 

You’re not sure how his sentence is going to end, whether he would claim to be trying to be friendly or trying to be friends. You’re not sure which one makes you more livid.

It’s the second one. “You just mocked me, made me doubt if I had fucking friends all because of Nancy not following me on Instagram. Don’t you dare say you were trying to be friends with me right now.” 

If you were more sober, you would have cursed yourself for blatantly revealing to him that he’d gotten to you. Your wounds were now on display for him, and you stiffened as you realized and awaited the expected handful of salt he’d be rubbing into them. 

We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.

The fight’s only just begun and you’ve already lost – not just this battle, but the entire war.

You know they would choose him. If your friends were given the choice between you two, they’d choose him. And it shouldn’t sting, it’s expected given how long the group has known each other, but Eddie’s animosity towards you has done nothing to soothe the ache stirred by that truth. You would never ask them to choose, you know better, but you’ve always known the answer.

It’s him, not you. 

“I was joking-” 

“No, that was not joking. It wasn’t funny. It was mean.” 

Mean, cruel, ruthless. What Eddie did rings sharply in your chest, in your brain that’s currently running on overtime to process your waves of emotions. The threads are so tight, you expect to see a puddle of blood at your feet on Steve and Robin’s kitchen floor. 

“As if you’re any better,” he sharply laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, “You want to talk about mean? Let’s talk about my date with Chrissy and you’re fucking fiasco.” 

Your stomach drops. The battlefield lurches into uneven ground, because what you did really was unfair. But you had been bitter, and you had been mean, and you had been…. 

You had been jealous. Jealous not of the romance that was honestly leaving much to be desired between him and Chrissy, but that platonic friendship. The kind you had yet to earn from him. The kind you were starting to doubt if you ever had, genuinely, with the rest of the group. 

“I’m-”

“Sorry? Yeah, well, sorry don't make her call me back.” 

This is where, if you were speaking with anyone besides Eddie, you offer a real, genuine apology. 

But you’re speaking with Eddie. You’re burnt out from a long week, your pride still remains wounded, you’re suddenly questioning if you even have any friends, you’re drunk, and you’re speaking with Eddie. 

A genuine apology would be like terrible shards, dredged up your throat and being clung to desperately by your whining pride. You’re bleeding enough as it is without that. 

“My apologies, friend. I am so terribly sorry you weren’t able to get your dick wet.” 

You both deserved what was coming, really. You deserved it. Because suddenly, just as it always ended up between you two, hateful words were exchanged. The worst part isn’t when Eddie snarks about how at least he can get his dick wet, unlike you, nor is it when you spit out how being a slut isn’t something to be proud of. It’s a blur of sharp tongues and jabbing knives, both of you swiping for any which way to make the other bleed. 

It’s the cruelest you’ve been to each other yet, because somewhere below all of the surface-level insults, there’s real pain pulsing there. There’s your bloodied threads of anxiety, wretched thoughts and doubts as to if you should even be in this apartment tonight. There’s something more in the lines that form between Eddie’s furrowed brows as he matches your anger. His volume raises right along yours, and whenever his voice breaks over certain quick-dagger remarks, you don’t look into it. Especially not when it happens as he brings up the bartender again. All the failed dates, as he so kindly reminds you of. 

“For someone who claims to not fucking care, you sure do talk a lot about those ridiculous fucking dates,” you seethe finally. Somewhere in the argument, you’d downed the rest of your drink, leaving an empty glass beside you. 

“Because they prove my point!” he shouts in exasperation, “Because you… you… you can’t take a fucking hint.”

A final thread wraps around your throat. You feel as if you can’t breathe. 

“And what is that hint, exactly?” your tone shakes as you ask it, past anger and past heartbreak. 

Why do you still care what he thinks? Do you still care what he thinks?

The vodka says yes. 

Yet Eddie says no, shaking his head immediately.

“Oh, so now you don’t want to speak your mind?” you hate how vulnerable you are, the lilt of your voice with unshed tears and the crack in your chest that you’re sure he can hear. You want to scream, you want to pound your fists against his chest. You want to throw a proper tantrum, like an absolute child. Like a little kid on the playground who no one wanted to play with, “You had all this shit to say, and now you bite your tongue? Fuck you, Eddie.” 

“You don’t want to actually know,” he says flatly. He’s emotionless, and it burns you even further. Here you are, overflowing your cup with all your emotions, and his well has run dry. Even the tick you had managed to get out of his jaw is gone. All the anger, all the false signs of him actually caring have vanished.

You bite down on your lip, struggling to take a deep breath. Trying to even your anger, to bring yourself down to his level. You’re tired of the uneven battle ground. “I don’t? I never knew you were a mindreader.” 

“Don’t have to be a mindreader to see the way you’re about to burst into fucking tears.” 

You suddenly wish you could take the glass on the counter beside you and just toss it at him, full force. Make him physically bleed as he continues to stab at your pride, your ego, your emotions. 

You’re not even sure he’d bleed at this point. Maybe he’s a fucking robot designed to do nothing but hurt you. 

“Fuck you,” you state plainly as the first tear falls, repeating yourself with a more vindictive tone, “Fuck you. It’s not like you care about my fucking feelings, so just say it.” 

 “Fine,” he’s still so indifferent, still so emotionless, “You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted. Not by those assholes, not here-” 

It’s your final breaking point. You don’t care to hear the rest of his sentence, temper taking the reins as you reach for the glass beside you. 

You throw as hard as you can. 

You tell yourself it’s dumb luck and bad aim when the glass shatters against the wall behind Eddie and not his shocked face. Not mercy. Not the ghost of hope, evaporating with a whisper of glass shards as the final shovel full of dirt falls upon the grave. You can see it clearly, the gravestone that marks the fresh grave: Here Lies Possibility. Here Lies All That Could Have Been. 

It’s over. Eddie knows it – his emotion finally shows, but you don’t stick around to see it. 

Eddie’s wrong. For once, you see you’re not wanted, and make the choice to leave.

—

HOUR FIFTEEN - 6:00 AM

“It was about you. I got banned because of you.” 

You don’t know how to respond at first. Honesty hangs heavy between the two of you, suffocating in the morning light. 

You asked him for honesty. He gave you honesty.

It should be a celebration, but all it does is build a pit in the bottom of your stomach that threatens to weigh you down to the bottom of his ocean. 

When you finally respond, you enunciate each word carefully, “Eddie. What do you mean?” 

“I got banned. From the bar. Because of you.”

“No, yeah, I gathered that,” you stress, the crease between your brow deepening, “But…. I… elaborate?”

You can hear the cars on the street below, echoing honks and engines thrumming. Songbirds sing in the distance and shops are opening; the entire world surrounding you two is awakening with a long yawn and a gentle stretch. 

Your world feels as though it is coming to a full stop, but life is carrying on. 

“Which part?” he breaths out a humorless laugh, “The part where I got banned, or the part where it was because of you? Because the ban is pretty straight forward – I threw a punch at a guy, he threw a punch back, now I can’t step foot in Fat Tuesday on Mill Ave-”

“The part where it’s because of me, you idiot,” you interrupt him in exasperation, “What the hell do you mean you got banned because of me?” 

Silence. You’re met with silence. 

Maybe honesty has run dry, just like that. 

You search his face and count your luck, at least he admitted this much, before sighing, “Okay. You don’t have to tell me-” 

The honesty comes bursting out of him. The well of it is anything but dry, “It was the bartender that stood you up. He was there that night after our fight, after the party at Steve’s.” 

The bartender. 

You hadn’t thought of that guy in ages, had long since forgotten his name and face since he’d bruised your ego. 

“I…” your voice trails off, unsure and unsteady as you take tentative steps away from the balcony’s railing, “I’m… honored?” 

Honored isn’t quite the right word. You really don’t know how to feel right now. Should you be thanking him, assuming it was in your honor that he started the fight? Or should you press on, test the limits of honesty and figure out if you’re interpreting this entire confession incorrectly? 

Eddie chuckles dryly before he suddenly walks over to one of the two lounge chairs on the balcony, a small table separating them adorned with a crystal ashtray, “That’s all?”

“Should I not be?” Confusion bursts and blooms across your face, and Eddie’s only reaction to it is furrowed brows as he sits down, “I mean, you just told me you not only threw a punch, but took a punch from some dude who stood me up on a first date once. I think at the very least I should be-”

“I expected you to have more questions,” Eddie cuts you off as he taps his carton of cigarettes on the table beside you, more of a habit than a necessity. His knee is bouncing with each tap, an invisible beat you try to track and end up failing miserably before you take the other chair beside him, “You always have more questions.” 

I do, you think immediately, I have a million and one questions I can’t ask.

Each question flurries past you in a blur, and you’re sure if they’re capable of making you dizzy that there’s no way Eddie could handle them all being thrown at him. There’s also a small part of you still terrified that pressing too far will send him running; ask one wrong thing, and Eddie will retreat to his tall, defensive walls, once again separating him from you. Progress, no matter how minimal, is progress. You can’t risk backtracking. 

“Of course I do,” you repay his debt of honesty in a quiet tone, nimbly picking at the hem of his sweatshirt as it brushes your thigh. 

“Then ask them.”

“If I ask you more questions, are you going to shut me out?” 

The entire morning stills. The breeze turns stale, the sounds of the Sunday hustling and bustling seemingly pause. 

You can’t help but look into his big, brown eyes. You try to communicate with a single look, a silent plea for him to please say he isn’t. 

“I won’t shut you out,” he’s hardly louder than a whisper, but that’s enough for you.

You don’t know where to start: Did you punch him because of me? Did he say something first? Did you have an ulterior motive? Did you know about my date with him before that night? Did you guys talk about me?

The final one sparks a chill down your spine, uncomfortable at the thought of Eddie having discussed you with the bartender, having been the one to tarnish the man’s view of you enough to leave you stranded at a restaurant alone. 

Normally, you’d slowly ease him to the point of your actual question. But your patience has vanished as you look at him now, as you watch him under the promise that he won’t shut you out.

“How did you know him before the fight?” 

His lips twitch with a grin, “I was a regular, he was a bartender. Can I make it anymore obvious?” 

“Are you quoting Avril Lavigne to me right now?” you ask, flabbergasted before shaking your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts and move past this joke, “You know what? Forget I asked – so he served you often? Were you…. Were you friendly?” 

“Well, he once took me out behind the bar and kissed me, but he never got around to buying me dinner. Might have been because of my mean right hook, but who knows-”

“Eddie,” Your voice cracks in desperation, “Please, be serious. Just for one minute.” 

It kills you to say it, because part of you is convinced this is a vision of the boy you’ve been chasing after for so long. This is the boy who is best friends with Nancy. This is the boy who is always invited without hesitation to smoke with Jonathan and Argyle. This is the boy that Steve and Robin had ranted and raved about in all those classes before you’d met him. This is the boy you’d met that first night in the bar in brief passing, and had been seeking out ever since. 

A boy who felt like coming home after a long week.

It kills you to tell him to quiet down all the grins and jokes that are making your heart ache in such a terribly peculiar way.

“I’m sorry,” something in you gleams with gratuity when his grin takes it’s time fading, him throwing up his hands in faux defense, his playful tone still woven carefully. He’s not shutting you out. “I can be serious. I- Give me a second. Scout’s honor, I can stop fucking around.” 

“You better,” you jilt, caving into the joking ever so slightly. 

It’s easy to do when he looks at you this way. His eyes sparkle as if the honesty has freed him of some great weight. However he had expected you to react, it wasn’t this way. 

All at once, he has become something brand new to you. You’re in his sweatshirt, barefoot on his balcony as you can still smell his last cigarette lingering in the air, and you wonder if you’ve never considered yourself a morning person because you’ve never experienced a Sunday morning with Eddie. If you had felt his morning light like this before, even in a sleep-deprived haze, you would have certainly enjoyed the early hours sooner. 

“Okay, okay,” he takes a deep breath, forces away the grin you can still see in the crinkles beside his eyes, “To answer your question, no. We weren’t really friends, I didn’t even know his name and I’m pretty sure he didn’t know mine. He just knew my order.”

“Whiskey and coke,” you whisper, pulling a knee up to your chin, resting it and looking at Eddie with unbridled softness. Fifteen hours ago, you couldn’t have known nor cared about his go-to drink.

“Whiskey and coke,” he confirms. It’s in the pull of his lips – he’s fighting another smile, feeling just as soft as you are at the way you’ve learned something new about him, “Not that it’s hard to remember. Definitely easier than an amaretto sour.” 

“Amaretto sours are not hard to remember,” you shake your head ever so slightly, chin slipping and lips dragging across the skin of your knee. Eddie’s eyes waste no time focusing on the movement, “Okay. So you two weren’t really friends, that’s good to know. I guess my next question would be, was he working that night?” 

Eddie leans forward, elbows pressing into the tops of his thighs, “Are you asking if I’m badass enough to storm into a bar and throw a punch at the bartender on duty to defend your honor?” 

His words paint quite the picture for you. “Did you?”

“No. Lower your expectations of me, please.” 

It takes everything in you to not just throw your head back in laughter, having to settle on giggles suffocated against the skin of your knee still. You wrap your arms around your shin tightly, keeping your leg folded up into you as you shake with the soft laughter. 

“Okay, one last question - who threw the first punch?” you sigh. The image of how fearful Eddie had looked when he’d first admitted to this entire ordeal is silly now. You already know the answer to this question, he wouldn’t have been so nervous to tell you if he hadn’t been the one instigating the entire thing, but you ask it to humor the two of you. 

It’s a good distraction from the buds and blooms alike, all awakening along your vines. The vines don’t feel so constricting anymore. As a matter of fact, you think you’re able to recognize their beauty for the first time. Verdant greenery lined with splashes of reds, of violets, of yellows that are almost the same brilliant shade of gold that his eyes seemingly flash every time the sun hits them just right. 

“I did,” he answers just as you expected. He also shrinks into himself, just as you had also expected, “I just saw him there, and- actually, I don’t know if this next part is just an insult to injury but I…” he trails off, not taking a single breath as he meets your gaze. You’re sure he’s searching for anger, for repulsiveness, for hurt. He’ll find none. You only nod your head and encourage him to keep going, “Okay, he was there on a fuckin’ date, sweetheart. A date, the night after he stood you up. So I just…I just decked him. And honestly? I don’t regret it. He deserved it.” 

When he’s finally finished spilling his guts, you’re left fighting a grin and an overflowing chest of blooms. He’s flushed and nervous and goddamn it, he beat the shit out of some dude in your honor. You should scold him or be more upset, but you only start laughing again. 

“Why are you laughing?” Eddie scrunches up his face, continuing to lean forward, almost as if trying to get closer to you, “Seriously, what’s so funny about that?” 

You’ve thrown your head back in delight now, just as you had wanted to earlier, and release your hold on your leg as it falls back down from your chest, “Jesus Christ, I wish I could have seen that in person.” 

Eddie’s stunned. But you mean it – if your heartbroken self from six months ago had witnessed that, you would have considered Eddie your best friend immediately. This entire feud would have been cut six months short just from one simple punch. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp out, desperately trying to compose yourself once more, “I really shouldn’t condone violence. I just – man, I cried over that guy. A whole month of those stupid, cheesy, ‘good-morning-beautiful’ texts, and he had just left me hanging, y’know? I mean, I’m sure he’s not a bad person-”

“No,” Eddie interrupts, smiling right along with you, “No, as far as we should be concerned, he’s a fucking asshole. Fuck defending him, we’re never going to see him again anyways.” 

 We’re never going to see him again. 

Eddie probably has no idea what he’s done, referring to the two of you as a joint unit for the first time in a future tense, but it makes you ache all over. That heartache and warmth you felt for him is no longer secluded to just your chest; you feel it from your toes all the way to your scalp, traveling and leaving kisses of goosebumps in its trail. A sudden yearning floods your entire nervous system, the entire roadmap of your heart and your veins and your arteries – you like the image of you and Eddie, Eddie and you, still being a resemblance of a pair beyond just these measly twenty four hours. You like to imagine being able to call him up out of boredom some time next week. You like the thought of him joining on bar crawls with you and the girls. You like the thought of spending every Sunday morning with him from here on out. 

Some of those are reasonable. Some of those aren’t. The yearning rushes through you all the same. 

“Yeah,” you agree softly, “We’re never going to see him again. Fuck him.” 

Eddie hums and leans back in his chair, finally beginning to relax, leaving you a moment to reflect. 

He was telling the truth, he had been honest; he had gotten banned from a bar for you. He’d seen the bartender who stood you up, and he’d decided to defend your honor. Even after that night. Even after that fight. Even after the glass you had thrown. 

Even after the cruel words he had said. 

The yearning stops in its tracks, coming to a rough halt as you glance up at him sharply. 

Even after the cruel words he had said, even after claiming you weren’t someone who was wanted, he’d defended you. 

“You know what?” he suddenly says, but your mind is still whirling and you can only hum in response, “I kind of like honesty. I sort of dig it,” you wish you could muster up more than a smile as he boyishly grins at you, “What else do you wanna know? Hit me, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. The yearning rushes past the floodgates, the pink strikes your cheeks, the ache rings out from the very hollows of your bones. 

You know what you really want to ask him can’t be answered right now. Because even with the change in him, the one that weakens your knees and has you wishing for things in the future, he was still once the man from that night. He still once made you bleed, made you cry. And even if he’s apologized, and you know he means it, it can’t erase that fact. 

And it worries you. Because as all the feelings swell in your chest, you’re left with yet another unanswered question. 

Why would you defend me after that fight?

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[ladykailitha]

Soft Part 1 of 2

I was meant to be working on Grief (A Friend Indeed) this weekend because I didn't want to leave you hanging at the end of six (which I have written), but my muse wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this one. It's a little more than 3k, so I'm splitting it up. Which will give me more time to write part 7.

It's called soft because all the way through writing it, that's what the feel was. It was all fluff. And I really couldn't think of a better title.

*

Eddie walked into the apartment Steve shared with Robin and found Steve crying on the sofa.

"Stevie?" he asked, gently creeping up on the sofa as not to startle him.

"Hey, Eds," Steve greeted mournfully.

"What happened, babe?" Eddie asked, easing on the sofa next to him.

"Anna broke up with me..." he muttered.

Eddie blinked. "But wasn't she the one that brought up marriage, like just last week?"

Steve nodded. "Apparently it was a test or some such shit."

"What did you say?" he asked.

"I told her that marriage is great when you find the right person, but that it wasn't for everyone," Steve explained. "I said it was great feeling to stand up in front of your friends and family and declare your love for each other."

"Sounds great to me," Eddie said. "What was her damage?"

Steve sighed. "Apparently the answer to the question 'should people get married' is never ever in a million years and I'm a misogynist for even thinking about it."

"Ouch."

"Stupid me for thinking otherwise," Steve groused. "Hell I even went and put a down payment on a ring. A very nonrefundable down payment."

Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. "Shit, sweetheart. She should reimburse you for that, leading you on like she did."

Steve shook his head, pulling out a small box. "I bought this instead." He handed it to Eddie.

Eddie opened the box and inside was a beautiful white gold chain with a large clasp.

"That's pretty, Stevie," he murmured. "Birdie will love it."

Steve shook his head again. "It's for you. It's for your guitar pick." He jutted his chin at Eddie's necklace.

"What?"

"Can I show you?" Steve asked gently, holding out his hand.

Eddie nodded and took the necklace off and placed it in his waiting palm.

Steve set it on his thigh as he unscrewed one end of the clasp. He slid the pick off the bubble chain Eddie kept it on and onto the silver chain. He screwed the clasp back on and then brought the two ends back together. They connected without any help from Steve.

"Whoa!" Eddie said, enthralled.

"It's magnetic," he explained. "That way when you do shows you can do the whole rip it off your neck without having to buy new chains all the time."

He handed it back to Eddie, who put it on. He tugged on it normally but it didn't come off. He tugged harder and it came off in his hand. The chain slipped around his palm and reconnected. He wrapped it around his wrist and the pick fell perfectly in his hand so he could strum.

He played a little air guitar and then put back around his neck.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. "I heard that picks really don't last long, and that that one is really special, so I had these made too."

He pulled the cushion out of the jewelry box to reveal about a dozen picks with a hole drilled into the top so Eddie could string them on the necklace.

Eddie picked one up and saw that it had initials on it. "JL." He picked up another one. "DH." A third. "LS."

"Steve..." he whispered.

"They each have an initial for someone you love," Steve murmured. "Your uncle. Your band. The kids."

"Not you?" Eddie asked, tilting his head around so he could get a better look at Steve face.

Steve blushed a dark red. He tugged on the necklace and it came off in his hand. "My initials are here." He pointed to the two clasps. And sure enough there were engraved into the silver was a simple S and H.

Eddie's heart stuttered in his chest. "Thank you." His lip quivered a bit before he spoke again. "You didn't have to do this, you know."

Steve shook his head. "I had to get something with down payment. This wasn't that much. I promise. I liked getting it for you."

Eddie just nodded.

*

Eddie showed up for band practice, practically vibrating out of his skin.

Jeff leaned back. “Whoa, man. Who’s put caffeine into your veins?”

“Lookie what Stevie got me!” he said and yanked off the chain, it immediately demonstrated the effect for him.

“Holy shit!” Gareth said bounding up to him. “That’s so freaking cool.”

Eddie grinned. “He also got me these.” And he poured the picks into Gareth’s hand.

Gareth picked one up, after another reading off the initials. “JH, ES, DH... GH?”

He looked up at Eddie in awe. He held up the GH. “Is that me?”

Eddie nodded, pursing his lips. “There’s a JL and a BM in there too.”

“And the rest all the kids right?” Brian asked coming up behind Gareth.

“And Wayne and Robin,” Eddie confirmed.

Jeff wandered over, too. “No pick for Stevie?” he asked, pushing them around in Gareth’s hand.

Eddie quietly showed them the initials on the necklace itself.

“Holy fuck!” Brian said, wide-eyed. “That’s a declaration of love if I ever saw one, man.”

Jeff nodded. “Yeah, Ed. That’s some straight up romantic shit.”

“Come on, guys,” Eddie moaned. “It’s not like that. He put a down payment on a ring for a relationship that went bust and needed to spend it anyway.”

All three of his bandmates just stared at him in disbelief.

He squirmed a little under their gaze. “I bet Birdie got something even better than this.” He held up the necklace. “It’s only silver, it couldn’t have cost that much anyway.”

“Dude,” Brian said. “Your rings are silver. That is something else.”

Eddie frowned and compared the two pieces of jewelry side by side.

“Oh.”

He chewed on his lip. “I think I know what metal this is.”

Gareth rubbed his chin. “It looks like my mom’s wedding ring. And that’s...”

“White gold,” Eddie and Gareth said together.

Jeff’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “You mean to tell me that Steve got you a necklace made of white gold and you still don’t think it’s a declaration of his undying love you?”

“Guys...” he whined. “It’s only the necklace. It can’t have cost that much, okay?”

Jeff ran his tongue over his lips, a sly look on his face.

“What?” Eddie barked.

“I’ll tell you what...” Jeff said shrewdly. “If he bought something for Buckley, too, we’ll learn all fucking ten minutes of Master of Puppets.”

Eddie grinned. But Brian and Gareth didn’t even have the decency to look worried.

“And if he hasn’t...” Jeff continued. “You’ll play Free Bird at the next gig at the Hideout.”

Eddie groaned. Both songs were long, but he thought Free Bird was boring. Not like Master of Puppets, that song had depths.

But then again... he was sure that Robin had something even nicer from Steve. Like diamond stud earrings or some shit.

“You’re on.”

Jeff smiled as they shook on it and it made Eddie doubt a bit.

Nah.

He had this on lock.

*

Eddie came bounding up to the counter at Steve and Robin’s job at the bookstore. Just another in their long line of jobs they had together.

“Where is your soulmate?” he asked the very disgruntled Robin.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s at home. With another migraine.”

Eddie winced. “That’s the third one this week.”

Robin nodded. “He’s got an appointment with a neurologist next week, but I’m stuck here, while he’s at home being miserable.”

Eddie pouted. “Poor Birdie. I can check up on him on my way home?”

“Thanks,” she said, a little bit of tension leaving her body.

“Speaking of your soulmate,” he said. “Did he show you what he got me?”

Robin shook her head. “I didn’t even realize he had gotten you anything.”

Eddie frowned, but took off his necklace and handed it to her.

She smiled at the initials. “That dingus. That’s really sweet of him.”

He told her the whole story. “So what did he get you?” he asked when he finished.

Robin furrowed her brow. “Nothing.”

Eddie reared back his head. “That’s not possible. He loves you the most in all the world. He would have gotten you something.”

She gently took his hand, the necklace tangling around their fingers. “Eddie, he loves you, too. Just as much, just differently.”

He reached out with his free hand and fingered the braided chain. “Jeff... the whole band really thought it was a declaration of true love.”

“They sound pretty smart to me.”

Eddie pursed his lips. He nodded. “I’ve got to go. Don’t worry, I’ll still check up on him.”

He untangled their hands and put the necklace back on.

Robin watched him go with a fond smile on her face. They were both stupid. But they were getting there.

*

Eddie had made sure Steve had taken his medicine and was lying down in his room with an ice pack on his head.

He was snooping. He was usually against that. Like with every fiber of his being, but this was extenuating circumstances. He couldn’t ask Steve as it was for a surprise for him. Couldn’t ask Robin, he loved her but she would blurt out the surprise. Just randomly. Without prompting.

So he was snooping around looking for a specific piece of paper he knew Robin kept in one of three places. Her nightstand. Wasn’t there. Next to the phone. Again, not there. So he was rifling through their junk drawer in a last ditch effort to find what he was looking for.

EUREKA! He found it.

He copied the information and then put the paper back. He carefully put the paper in his wallet.

He stayed nearby until Robin came home, but Steve slept straight through the changing of the guard.

***

Part 2

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[talaok]

I was thinking about the reader having a close guy friend who has a crush on her and it makes pedro jealous and angry that why the reader can't realize it?

pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

warnings: angst, jealousy

"You know, I was thinking that tomorrow we could go to that sushi place you like" Pedro called from the bathroom, as he finished brushing his teeth.

You smiled to yourself as you got into bed before remembering something.

"Tomorrow?" you asked

"yes" He nodded, walking into the bedroom "We haven't gone there in a while"

"It's just...Steve asked me to go out with him tomorrow"

Even if he was turned around, you could see all his muscles tense.

"Steve?"

"yeah," you confirmed, "maybe we could go out the day after tomorrow?"

"Just the two of you?" He ignored your proposal, finally facing you

The question confused you a little bit

"Yup, he said we haven't seen each other in a while and he missed me"

"of course" he chuckled, a trace of bitterness in his tone

"What?" you frowned

"Nothing I'm just wondering if he'll finally use this opportunity to propose"

"What are you talking about baby?"

"oh c'mon you know" 

"no, I don't know" 

He was looking at you as if you had just admitted to not knowing how much 2+2 is.

"y/n listen as much as I'd like to believe you, I know you're way too smart not to know what I'm talking about"

You threw your blanket off your body, suddenly hot.

"Pedro" you stated as calmly as you could "I'm telling you, I have no idea what you're trying to say"

"oh really?" he raised his eyebrows, "you don't know? You don't know why I don't like when you hang out with the same guy who has not missed a single opportunity to tell you how beautiful or amazing or perfect you are? Who texts you 24/7? Who literally comes running whenever you need anything?"

Your mouth was parted but you needed a moment to process his words before being able to come up with some of your own.

"What are talking about?" 

He sighed frustratedly, running a hand through his hair

"I'm talking about the fact that he likes you! That he- actually you know what, I'm talking about the fact that he's in love with you y/n!"

And there it was

It was as if time had stilled, as if the world had stopped spinning.

Why was he getting so angry about this? How long had he been keeping this to himself?

And most importantly-what the actual fuck was he on about?

"Steve is my friend Pedro- I've known him for like six years, just cause he's a good friend doesn't mean he likes me" you sighed "Since when do you get jealous? This is not like you"

"are you serious?" he dropped his hands by his sides "You seriously don't fucking see it?"

"what? What is there to see?" you gestured, getting up from the bed

"y/n he gave you roses on valentines day!" he huffed a laugh raising his head to the ceiling "What friend does that?"

"that-that doesn't mean anything it was just a nice gesture it didn't mean anything"

"of course" he paused a moment before looking at you again, so many emotions clouding his eyes they almost looked a different color "y/n I don't know if you're lying to yourself or if you actually don't see it, but I'm telling you- he likes you"

"wh-" you stuttered, unable to do anything but beg your brain to start working again.

"he looks at you like your an angel sent from heaven y/n" he sighed "and you are, you know that, but I'm the only one who's supposed to feel that way" he said "not- not fucking Steve too"

"he-he's just a friend" you muttered,

you didn't know if you were telling yourself or him anymore

"I know he is" he nodded "but I also know that's not everything he wants to be"

"how-how would you know?"

"Because I'm not blind, baby!" he insisted, getting closer to you "because I would bet a million dollars that if you called him right now and told him you liked him he'd come running!"

"that's not true! We're just friends- he- he doesn't like me that way"

"y/n c'mon!" he groaned "How do you think it makes me feel? To see him drooling over my girlfriend every time we go out?"

"Pedro he doesn't like me!"

"He does! And I'm tired of pretending he doesn't" Frustration was tracing his every word "He needs to get a fucking grip, Someone needs to tell him how things actually are, and if you don't wanna do it then I gladly will"

"what do you even mean?"

"I mean telling him to back off!"

"Pedro I-"

"please-" he stopped you, his voice lower now, more pleading "please don't tell me again that he doesn't like you"

"but-"

"ok how 'bout this" he interrupted you again, "You ask him"

"What?"

"yeah, if you're so sure he doesn't like you why not just ask him?"

"Because... because it's weird"

"it's not weird- and if he's an honest man he'll tell you the truth"

You stared at him

Was he serious?

"Are you being serious?"

"one hundred percent" he nodded "Tomorrow" he stated, "you ask him, and I'm coming too"

"you're not coming"

He cocked an eyebrow "I'll be outside, I don't want him trying any weird shit"

"Pedro..."

"I just- I'm tired of it y/n"

You sighed "fine" before sitting back on the bed, feeling all your energy drained.

He sat beside you after a moment

"How long have you kept this to yourself?" you finally broke the silence, turning to him just to find his gaze already on you.

"Since I met him"

"Pedro...that was 2 years ago" 

"I know"

You paused, again

"You know that I would never cheat on you, right?"

"of course I do" he sighed "It's just- him... I don't like him"

You let out a small laugh "Yeah, I gathered"

"I can't help it" he murmured, his hand going to stroke your cheek "There can only be one man all over you" he smiled a lazy smile "and luckily... that man happens to be me"

[bigfan-fanfic]

The Clinic (Male!Reader x Mafia!Bucky and Steve)

Requested by @jayfeather965 for Your response to the captain and batdad ask has my creative juices flowing. The captain and iron arm Barnes are equal partners in a mafia, lovers and stuff. But then one of them, Bucky or Steve gets shot and separated from from the gang. Ends up going to a street clinic, with doctors who don’t ask questions. And naturally he’s fascinated by the doctor who helps him but calls him out for his arrogant attitude and takes no nonsense. Could you write a long story on this? Lmk please

Trigger warning blood, crime, mob au, etc.

"Babe."

"Yeah, boss?"

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

The Captain grips Barnes' chin in his fingers, tilting up his face. Barnes knows better than to resist.

Barnes is shirtless, the bandages wrapped around his chest and over his shoulder where he had been shot. His cheekbones still have the stitches in them.

The Captain is impeccably dressed, their states incongruous.

"What can I say, pal? It's hard to find a man that ain't afraid of me."

The Captain lets go, grabs the tumbler of whiskey in Barnes' hand, and tosses it aside.

It shatters in the fireplace and the alcohol makes the fire burst in a roar, but neither man hears it, because they are locked in a bruising, harsh kiss.

Barnes' hands frame the Captain's waist as the big man straddles him, clutching Barnes' face, his thumb brushing over the not-quite-healed gash in a way that is painful, but also grounding.

Cap growls, knowing that even with the pretext of healing, another man has touched what is his.

Only Barnes has been able to calm the raging beast inside him, this thing that makes him the most feared boss in the city, The Captain, and his iron right hand, Iron-Arm Barnes.

But maybe he's too hard. Like a callus that grows from overuse and dulls sensation. Maybe this sawbones has a tender touch Barnes has been missing.

For his part, Barnes has always been given to obsession. If the Cap had never had that growth spurt and hit the gym like a train crash, Barnes knew he'd have taken him. The little punk would be his precious little pet instead of his boss. But they would be together no matter what.

For Barnes, his blood wasn't his own, it flowed in the Cap's veins. So there wasn't a question of loving instead. They were parts of the same organism.

Barnes remembers you.

He dragged himself to your clinic after being shot, after his men had gotten away and he had been left for dead.

It's attractive, he won't lie, to see a man cool in a crisis. You get him on a table, strip him of his dirty and bloodstained clothes without a hint of lust or a sneak at his body, and you get to work picking shrapnel out of sensitive areas and stitching him up.

Barnes waits for a while after he wakes up post-op, knowing that he's not at full strength, before he reaches for his gun.

And you slip it out of his reach.

"No guns in my clinic."

"Do you know who I fucking am, sweetheart?"

"I don't care who you are. Bullets left at the door, or I let you bleed out on the floor."

"So much for the damn Hippocratic Oath."

"Fuck you. I have my license, and I don't ask questions. So maybe lose the attitude."

"Touché, sweetheart."

"Wipe that grin off your face. You lost a lot of blood."

"You gonna pump me full of morphine?"

"Bold of you to assume we have that kind of funding. The bullet passed through you clean. We're gonna need to change your bandages regularly for the next ten hours or so, and you're out of commission the next six weeks, at least."

"Really? I feel like a million bucks. A million bucks with a big hole in it."

You shake your head and take his gun, locking him in the room behind you.

"You gonna call the cops?"

Nope. That's not what you did.

"Name's Bucky."

You didn't tell him yours.

He talks incessantly, you answer some questions, remain silent for others

By the time the next morning rolls around, he's head over heels. "You're a shithead, Bucky. I don't wanna see you in here again, OK?"

He can hear the concern in your voice. You don't want him injured like that again. There's a connection there. A dangerous man, the battlefield angel.

And now he wants. And he wants his other half to want too.

They break their steamy kiss. It was a claiming, but Barnes is already owned.

"You still love me?"

"To the end of the line, pal. Never a question."

"You want the sawbones?"

"I'm yours, punk."

"Not what I asked."

"I want him."

"Then you'll have him."

"We."

The Cap grins. "I never met a guy with more heart. You think I have it in me to not get murderously jealous?"

Barnes kisses him. "Stevie, you're gonna be as head over heels as me. We're a team."

"I don't get you, pal, but I love you more than life."

"Then let's get us a sawbones."

[nburkhardt]

Robin doesn’t know how Steve and Eddie does it.

She’s had them for all weekend and is so tired and drained, it was fun at first but by the second night she’s done. How the hell do they do this every single day? She’s only had three and a half days and she’s so drained and actually she kind of wants to cry.

Steve and Eddie decided to adopt a pair of sisters, biological at that. One is six and the other three. They’re adorable and energetic, Robin adores them. Spoils the hell out of them, actually.

Currently though? All she’d like is for them to go to sleep. More accurately, the six year old.

“When are daddy and dada coming home?”

“I miss daddy and dada”

“I hold their hands when I go to sleep”

“How many sleeps until they’re home?”

It’s a near endless loop of some phrase asking for Steve and Eddie. The three year old woke up the first night crying for Steve, nearly wouldn’t go back to sleep either. At one point Robin just stood next to her, wondering if maybe movement would cause another moment of “I miss daddy, I want daddy” from the little baby.

When Steve asked her to watch the girls for the weekend because Eddie’s band was asked for a special show up in Chicago, she was all for it. These are her girls, she loves them! Plus, Steve hardly has long weekends anymore. Being a full time teacher for the middle school now and part time coach. Eddie also didn’t play as much anymore, none of the boys actually. All of them too busy with their own lives and families. Eddie’s record shop is one of the best in town now, and he tutors new musicians.

So, when Steve mentioned it to her? She said yes, go have fun with his nerdy husband and his band. The girls will be fine.

Well, she kind of regrets that now. The six year old, Charlotte, is a lot like her. Can’t stop moving, wants to play all the time, has a million questions. The three year old, Melody, despite not being biological Eddie’s is his mini me. And by that, she means the little girl is a wild card. She’s a cat in human form, doesn’t stop either and somehow worse than Charlotte. Her words are still coming out funny and Robin mimics her all the time. Both of them are definitely obsessed with their parents, normally she loves it. Loves seeing these two little girls get the world handed to them by her best friends, loves seeing Steve and Eddie heal themselves by being the best damn parents.

But after this long weekend? She needs a break from these girls. “Come on Charlie, just close your eyes and go to sleep”

Charlotte rolls over on the floor to look up at her, “I hold my daddy’s hand when I go to sleep”

She nods, “okay, you’ve said this, I don’t know how much I believe it but alright. They’ll be home tomorrow I swear. You go to sleep now, you’ll go to school and by the time you get out, they’ll be home!”

She hopes they’ll be home by then, Steve never gave her a time and at this point she’s hoping that they’ll actually be here by morning. She’d really liked to take a day just to sleep it away.

(Steve and Eddie end up surprising Charlotte at school to pick her up. Melody is still too young for school, so she squeals when they walk in through her front door.)

~~

Don’t ask for a time period. I just wanted to get out some frustration because this was me all weekend. Though unlike Robin, I’ve been around kids longer but my god was this weekend rough. I think my nieces have a bit of separation anxiety (probably due to when we were on lockdown for the pandemic) and a lot of the quotes I used here are real. Oh and the part where ‘Melody’ woke up crying for Steve? Yeah that really happened. at one point I legit was just standing awkwardly waiting for my niece to start crying again 🫠 (my sister & brother in law weren’t at a concert though. Just took a weekend away for their anniversary lmao)

[thefallennightmare]

Solace-one shot

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 3kishh

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff.

Summary: When the past comes knocking, will reader give up her perfect, quiet life to be with the one man she vowed never to speak with again?

Authors Note: here is a little something I thought of in my sleep, so I hope you enjoy! Also, I suck at summaries so apologies ha.

The sound of rain slapping against large, glass windows, eased my body and consciousness deeper into sleep. My soft snores echoed in tangent with the rain and I could feel my body sink further into the mattress, the last day falling away around me. It hadn’t been an exciting day, just spent working in the garden and working on my art; the same thing I had done so much of the last handful of years. It may not have been exciting to some but to me, it was my own solace. 

To be honest, the world past the treeline of my back yard scared me, even after all this time. I thought I had adjusted well but every time I went out into public for whatever reason, I was proven wrong. 

I never found myself complaining, however, with everything I had gone through and seen, I ended up retreating to this small cottage in the middle of nowhere Washington, away from civilization that scared me. Washington had no meaning to me, the farther I got away from him the better. I hadn’t seen him in over six years so I knew that I might have been over reacting in how far I tried to get away but I could never be too safe in something like this. 

Even if I hadn't seen him in so long, that didn’t stop the news or rumors of him finding its way to me. I never believed it, though. I knew who he was, truly. This life I had been living, we used to talk about how it would be for the both of us. Building our home together on a large piece of land with either the mountains or a lake in the backyard, somewhere for our kids to grow up in and us to grow old in. 

But with how things ended between us, I opted in creating this future without him. 

My body turned to the other end of the bed, the rain sounding behind me however with the knocking that echoed from the front door drained out the rain. It was a quiet but familiar knock. 

Our knock. 

Three raps against the wood then one solo knock followed by two more. 

My eyes snapped open, the drowsiness from sleep evaporating as I sat up in bed, gazing to the dark hallway outside of my bedroom door. All I could hear now was the rain until the knock sounded once more, this time a bit more persistent. 

“No way,” I muttered while letting my feet guide me towards my front door. 

It couldn’t be him. There was no way he could have found me, I made sure to cover my tracks when I moved out here. 

My eyebrows raised up in confusion when I looked out of the little peep hole, seeing nothing but darkness. 

Maybe I dreamed it?

I turned to head back to bed but when the same knock blasted behind me, I swiftly opened the door only to be met with more darkness. 

“This isn’t funny!,” I yelled. “You’re fucking with the wrong person.” 

The knife I had snatched from the table next to the front door clenched tightly in my hand. 

“Y/N.” 

Out of the darkness emerged the man that had been taking over my dream tonight, only this time he was in front of me, in the flesh, looking very different from the last time I had seen him. 

Long hair slicked back, a thick beard covering his face, and his once patriotic and noticeable suit was now worn down and almost dark, matching the way his eyes looked. 

They used to be so bright, full of life and love. But now, they were almost unrecognizable. 

“St-steve?” I stammered, stumbling away from him. 

A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “Hey doll.” 

My head shook, still not believing that he was in front of me. “Wha-what are you-how did you find me-what happened-is that blood?” 

A million questions ran through my mind and I didn’t know which one to ask first

I pointed to a wet spot on his suit, blood seeping through from what I was guessing a wound on his thigh; the large tear in his suit also gave me the answer I was looking for. 

Steve glanced down at it before a sigh fell through his lips. “I’m okay.” 

Our eyes locked and suddenly I felt myself become filled with rage. I hadn't seen Steve in so long that this is how he showed up on my doorstep? In the middle of the night and what looks like fresh off of a fight? 

 “How in the hell did you find me?” 

His lips parted to speak but a red head came bounding up the stairs towards us. The porch light casted over her face and even if I never met her before, I knew exactly who she was. 

“That actually was me. It took me some time, you really took yourself off of the map.” 

I raised a brow at her. “For good reason. You’re with him?” 

She nodded. “Natasha Romanoff.” 

It was my turn to nod, my suspicion of who she was proved right. 

“Y/N, we need your help.” 

Steve reached for me and I snatched my hand away, eyes sliced into him. 

“You disappear on me for years, after everything we had gone through together, and have the fucking balls to show up here asking for a favor?” I seethed. 

“We told him it was a bad idea to come here but he wouldn’t listen.” 

Another figure emerged from the darkness up my steps and I groaned in annoyance. 

“How many people did you bring to my house, Rogers?” I asked. 

“I’m Sam, Sam Wilson.” He nodded an introduction. “I’m sure Steve would be the first to tell you that we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t actually need your help.” 

I took in all three of their appearances and noticed exactly how tired they were. I wasn’t sure what the three of them had gotten themselves into but did know that whatever they were running from was important enough to come here. 

With a hesitant nod, I opened the front door allowing the three bodies to quickly slip inside. Knife still clenched in my hand, I did a quick once over of my wrap around porch to make sure that no one had followed them. Once it was clear, I slipped back inside my house and locked the door behind me. 

“So you're wanted for treason because you guys didn’t sign some kind of accords to stop you from fighting? ” I asked Natasha. 

“It’s complicated, I know. But we really do appreciate you taking us in. We won't be here long, I’m sure.” 

We were sitting at my kitchen island, two cups of coffee placed in front of us, and I glanced over to my living room where Sam and Steve were quietly talking amongst themselves; most likely their next plan. 

Steve had his back to me and in the way his shoulders tensed, whatever they had been running from had kept them on the run for awhile. 

“How long have you guys been on the run?” I asked Natasha, looking back at her. 

Her shoulders dropped. “A long time.” 

“Well, feel free to stay as long as you guys need.” I gave her hand a comforting squeeze. 

The relief that washed over her face was immediately recognizable. “I don’t know what happened between you and Steve but I do know that this was the last place he wanted to hide out.” 

“Yeah, well I’m sure he was thrilled to come here,” I spoke with sarcasm.

Natasha raised a brow. “What exactly happened between the two of you?”  

Clearing my throat, I stood from the counter and motioned behind me. “There’s a guest room down the hall next to the bathroom that I’m sure Natasha will want.” 

She smiled a thanks before nodding. 

“Uh, are you two okay with the couches?” I asked more towards Sam. 

He nodded. “Better than what we’ve been sleeping on.” 

Steve refused to meet my gaze, keeping it trained hard on his boots, so I took it as a sign to retreat back to my room. 

“Help yourself to whatever you’d like. There’s extra towels in the hall closet if you guys want to take a shower.” 

Sam and Natsha said their thanks and without another look towards Steve, I slipped back into my bedroom, the door open ajar. 

Shaky hands ran through my hair as I began pacing my room, sputtering words falling from my lips. 

“Why is he here? I’ve done so well without him,” I muttered to myself. 

I could feel my heart hammer hard in my chest and it echoed loud in my ears when I thought of Steve, sitting in my living room; a sight I never thought I would see. My feet dragged over towards the desk in my room and I pulled out an old leather bound book. It was filled with my own thoughts and some pictures, the specific one I was looking for almost slipping away. 

The edges were frayed and the color was faded but the smiles in the picture were still there, bright as the day it was taking, almost a hundred years ago. 

Steve’s small arms wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me close. My hand squeezing the other man's face, the laughter from that day was still fresh in my mind. 

I traced a finger over the other man's face, a quiet sob echoing through the room. 

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” 

This picture was taken before Steve became the soldier he was now, back when everything was easier. The three of us grew up together since elementary school and Bucky and I became close as we reached highschool. Everyone said we were the perfect couple and I thought so too until I thought I had lost him. 

The night Steve had come to tell me that Bucky was gone was one of the hardest nights I had gone through; the night Steve left me behind was a close second. 

I loved Bucky, still do to this day, and will always love him. 

Guilt pulled at my heart because as much as I loved Bucky, I don’t think I could ever love him more than him. 

Steve. 

With a soft sigh, I placed the book back into the drawer of my desk and slipped underneath the covers of my bed, which had gone cold. I forced my eyes closed, hoping that the past wouldn’t resurface, however no matter how hard I kept them away, they slipped back. Loud, angry voices, bouncing around my head. 

Bucky’s alive but he’s not the same as you remember. You can’t go after him” 

Screw you, Rogers! You can’t keep him from me. 

Doll, I swear it’s not a good time for you to see him. He won’t remember you.” 

Is this part of your plan? Keeping us apart because we’re sleeping together?

With a loud groan, I turned over in bed, facing the doorway, and I found myself wondering what Steve was doing right now. 

I love you, Steve. 

I love you too, Y/N. But I have to do this. It’s the only way to keep you safe. 

Throwing the blankets off of me in an instant, I tugged on a sweater and quietly slipped out of my bedroom and back door, sleep being foreign now. Thankfully I was able to go unnoticed by the voices coming from the living room. 

The cold breeze blew past me, wrapping around my bare ankles, as I sat on the back step, allowing the sounds of the rain to ease my racing mind. 

“You always found the sound of the rain comforting.”

My heart hammered against the cage in my chest as I watched Steve lean against the post, arms crossed over his chest. 

I nodded. “Do you guys need anything?” 

Steve shook his head. “Sam and Natasha are already asleep.” 

“You can't?” I asked. 

“We’ve been on the run so long that my body is used to being on guard,” he confessed. 

I started chipping away at the polish on my fingers, nerves wrecking my body. This was the first time in so long that Steve and I were alone and there was the unsureness of if he had still felt the same. 

I did, there wasn’t any doubt about it. 

“Has he reached out?” Steve asked, treading lightly on the conversation. 

I nodded. “He called me a few weeks ago to check in. He’s doing really well where he’s at. The young girl is helping him get his memories back.” 

It was Steve’s turn to nod. “Shuri, she’s taking good care of him.” 

Silence fell between us and I looked up to the sky, the large moon casting a glow over the skin of my face; Steve’s as well. 

I didn’t want to admit it outloud but he looked absolutely breathtaking, especially with the long hair and beard. 

“Does he know-?” Steve trailed off. 

“About us?” I finally looked into his eyes.

When Steve nodded, I continued with a sigh. “Yeah but if I’m being honest, it’s been so long since Bucky and I were together that the love we shared isn’t the same as it used to be. We both agreed that although we love each other, we both needed to move on.”

He pulled his sweater closer to his chest, the sudden breeze causing us both to shiver. 

“What about me?” 

I was on my feet quickly as I walked back towards my house, not wanting to have this conversation with him. 

“I’m not doing this, Steve,” I informed while walking past him. 

“Doll, please,” He reached for me. 

“Don’t,” I seethed while pulling my hand away. “You lost the right to call me that when you left me behind.” ‘

“I didn’t have a choice, Y/N. It was the only way to keep you safe,” Steve defended. 

“I told you that I loved you that morning and that evening you were gone! If you never loved me all you had to do was say that.” I spat. 

Steve ran a hand over his face with a loud sigh. “I did love you, sweetheart. I did it for you; for us.” 

“You left me behind, Steve! When I needed you the most, you packed up and left! Who does that to someone they love, after everything we have been through!” 

My screams could be heard miles away and there wasn't a doubt in my mind that Sam and Natasha had awoken, probably wondering what Steve and I had been fighting about. 

“I was with you on that plane when you took it into the water, or did you forget?!” 

Steve’s face twisted with sorrow. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day, Y/N. I blame myself every day that I allowed you to be on the ship. I thought I could have kept you safe.” 

Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes. “We both went to sleep together that day, in the ice. We both woke up together, seventy years later. But you weren’t the only one that had to adjust!” 

“I know, I should have been there for you,” Steve stepped towards me. 

I stepped back from him. “The second you left, Fury took me under his wing, trained me to be his next assassin, something that I never wanted for my life. You didn’t want it for me either. But I didn’t have a choice. I needed to survive somehow!” 

Steve parted his lips to speak but I continued to rant on, everything I had bottled up all these years finally spewing from my mouth. 

“I was in this new world where nothing made sense so Fury used that to his advantage. I did things I’m not proud of and it gives me nightmares to this day which is why I had to get away. I needed to get far away from that life.” 

“I’m sorry,” Steve apologized. 

It went in one ear and right out the other. 

“Why now? Why did you decide now to come back into my life? I was finally getting over you, settling into a life that wasn’t filled with death or heartbreak. Then you came back, looking like this, and it brought everything back,” I sobbed while motioning to his new look.

Steve inched closer to me. “We needed a safe space and I knew that Fury had some place set up for you where no one can find you.” 

“So you only came to hide out, then what? Plan to make me love you again, fall into my bed, then leave before the sun comes up?” I accused with a hard gaze. 

“That was never going to happen,” He reassured me. “I knew that if I were to come back to you that I would need to do whatever it took to make it up to you.” 

I sucked in my lip. “Do you still love me?” 

The question burned deep in my stomach, spewing out like vomit in wanting to know the answer. 

“Never stopped.” 

Steve didn’t hesitate his answer for a second. 

The dormant butterflies sparked, their wings fluttering in my stomach slightly. 

“Do you still love me?” Steve asked. 

Before, I wanted to avoid this question with every fiber in my being because I never knew how Steve felt so now that I had his answer, I knew what to say. 

“Never stopped.” I repeated his own words. 

We shared a small smile but I held up my hand to stop Steve, who wanted to take a step towards me. Even though we admitted that we still loved one another and no matter how many times he apologized, I don’t think I was ready to forgive Steve. 

Yet. 

My bottom lip trembled as I let out a shaky breath. “You guys don’t have to rush out of here. Stay as long as you need. To be honest, the company will be nice. And maybe we can talk more about our future.” 

“I’d like that,” Steve admitted, his voice breaking. 

Giving Steve a final smile, I made my way back towards my bedroom, silently hoping that I wasn’t going to regret letting him not only into my home but back into my life.

[sp0o0kylights]

 armed your words with explosive devices and put the trigger on your tongue.

I never know if a kiss will kill me. 

It's a joke. 

Or at least, Eddie meant it as one. 

He was flicking his hand out with the intention of pretending to "push" the weight off Steve's shoulders, following a joke about how he looks like he's carrying the whole world on his back.

Beyond the general air of a frazzled single mother, Harrington had been down to clown. He'd laughed at Eddie's first few jokes, even made a poor attempt at making one back.

So it surprised both of them when Steve flinches back, hard, sucking in a noisy breath.

For a moment he holds it in and Eddie mimics him, hand frozen midair. 

They breathe out almost together as Eddie slowly lowers his hand.

"Steve." Eddie starts off, voice soft. 

Steve jams his hand in his hair, face flushing red. "Sorry man, jock reflexes."

He catches the second Steve forces a smile back on his face, the way his desperate attempt at tugging on his own hair changes into a move designed to fluff it up. A laugh makes its way out of Steve’s mouth and to his credit, it sounds natural. 

This, Eddie realizes with an abrupt clarity, is Steve caught wrong-footed in public. This is Steve being off and fixing it before he breaks down. 

It’s a good cover, excellent even, and if Eddie hadn’t been watching for the signs, if he hadn’t started looking closer and closer at Harrington after finding him drunk and bloody in Tina’s bathtub, he might have brushed it off. 

Thought of it as Steve being a jerk, a jock, a guy who didn’t want to touch the filth that was Eddie Munson and was now trying to hide it.The same way so many others did, because they’d learned the hard way that a pissed off dealer won’t sell you any drugs. 

Eddie could even see him spinning this as having an off day. Maybe Steve was sore, maybe he was annoyed, maybe he was six other million things that he’d lead you to believe. 

Worse than knowing that he’d have bought Steve’s cover though, is that Eddie recognizes this. 

Has seen it before. 

Or micro versions of it. 

In class, when Steve’s asked a question he doesn’t know. In the hallways when someone tells a joke about his parents. In the parking lot when those kids snap at him, rolling their eyes and throwing their hands around.

Even the one basketball game Eddie attended, during his ill-fated attempt at joining the yearbook club before he finally started Hellfire. 

There had been a moment where Tommy had briefly turned on Steve, got some of the other boys to snap and snarl at the King in the face of a bad score. 

Called him stupid. 

Spineless and gutless. 

(Steve hadn’t even been the captain, back then.

 They held him responsible anyway.)

Eddie had thought it well deserved--even funny at the time-- considering what made up a man like Steve Harrington. 

Get big movie star hair, combine with no parents, and add tons of money. Shaken and stirred with little bits of never-ending popularity and girls swooning left and right over him, and you got Hawkin High’s most popular guy.

 Good to buy you whatever you needed, with a famously sharp tongue that he used in place of his fists. 

Grant still had nightmares over some of the names Steve had nailed him with. 

He was the school’s most desired bachelor until Nancy Wheeler took him down, proved even kings could be cheated out of their kingdoms. 

(One of the teenagers at the famed Starcourt fire, a hero in the papers for saving half a dozen kids. The pictures the news still occasionally shows often pin up those pictures of Steve, wearing this exact smile. 

It’s the same one he’s wearing now, as Starcourt burns in the background of each and every photo..)

The realization comes with a flood of knowledge--that Steve knows how to hide his issues, that he’s had issues for far longer than whatever--or whoever--is beating him up. 

Longer than Eddie himself had caught onto too--and Eddie had prided himself on seeing through people’s bullshit. 

If he does what Steve wants, let’s this drop, Steve will go on acting like everything’s fine. 

Just like everyone else does.

Eddie can’t do that. Has never been able to do that. 

"We both know that's bullshit." Eddie says, and he knew calling it out would get a reaction, but he’s not expecting the sheer strength of it. 

How Steve looks like he’s taken a punch, mask breaking fast on his face to reveal the hurt underneath. 

"Don't--" He tries to start, tries to breathe again and Eddie's not sure what caused it, but he knows the beginning of a panic attack when he sees one. “Don’t, please--” 

It’s the please that gets Eddie, the word sounding bruised. Like it hurts Steve to say it, that he only uses it as a hail mary that it may somehow help ward off whatever is coming. 

Eddie fights not to put his arms around Steve.

Protect him from whatever the hell is happening. 

"Hey." Eddie says, softly but clearly. "I’m sorry. Tell me what I did and I won’t do it again.” 

They’re in the middle of the school parking lot and neither of them can afford to misstep here. Not in a town like Hawkins. Eddie has a choice to make--to sweep Steve to somewhere safer, or to give space, back off so the younger man can regain control of himself and pick this up later. 

Steve takes a shuddering breath, hugs himself and bows his head. 

Eddie wants to go to him, to touch and comfort, but instead just hovers ever so slightly closer. “I’m here.” He whispers, just loud enough for Steve to hear. 

Steve takes the moment he needs, and Eddie knows he can at least give him that. Shield him from any onlookers with his own body. Use himself as a distraction if anyone comes up. 

His cheeks are wet when Steve raises his head. He wipes his face, bites his lip. 

It takes far less time for him to return to normal than Eddie would have ever thought, but then Steve Harrington keeps surprising him. 

“Shit.” He says, voice in a sort of croak. He clears his throat once, harshly. “Sorry.”

“I set you off, this ones on me.” Eddie says, keeping his voice smooth and calm. “I don’t want to push you, but I need to know what I said to upset you, so I can prevent it from happening again as best I can.” 

Steve looks up for a moment, away from him. Eddie allows it, acknowledges the move as Steve gathers the strength to face whatever hurt him enough to send him spiraling. This isn’t an easy thing he’s asking, and they’re in the worst place to do it--a potential audience can appear at any time. 

Eddie doesn’t want to lose this thread, though. Knows instinctively, how important it is. 

“It’s stupid.” Steve’s struggling to sound more normal, but the real surprise is that he’s starting to manage it. “It’s so stupid, but it’s--the word.” 

Short-term memory recall isn’t exactly a talent of his, but Eddie’s had plenty of practice with D&D. He runs the conversation back, and there’s really only one option that makes any sense. He almost says it again, but catches himself.

Thinks quickly on his feet. 

“Adult male cow crap?” He says, and tries to make his tone a little light. This is a calculated risk, Steve may very well believe he’s being mocked or teased.

The younger man snorts a laugh and thankfully doesn’t appear to take offense. “Yeah.” He drawls out, a tinge of embarrassment flushing across his nose.

It’s fucking adorable, and Eddie has to bite his lip to keep interrupting, inappropriate thoughts at bay. 

“Nance--when we--” Steve huffs an annoyed sigh, arms having shifted long ago to more of a defensive cross, nails digging into his sleeves while he taps his foot, aggravated. “It’s fucking stupid man, but that word got tossed around.” 

“Got it.” Eddie nods his head. “It’s gone.” 

“You shouldn’t have to do that.” Steve says, and it's got an angry undertone to it. “I need to get over it anyway. It’s been long enough.” 

The anger, Eddie decides, is self directed. 

He cocks his head. “Do people tell you to do that a lot? To just get over it?” 

Steve finally looks at him and to his credit the guy’s managed to go from actively falling apart to merely appearing cold and annoyed, as if the redness in his face itself is trying to help hide his emotions. 

That hurt thing flickers in and out of his eyes though, covered by an edge of something else, something stubborn. 

Yet again, Eddie finds himself wondering if he’s found Steve’s limit. If this is when he finally gets pushed away and threatened over all the things that have been revealed to him. Steve hasn’t made that move yet, but Eddie thinks that's mostly because Eddie keeps catching him off guard. 

To be fair, his own reactions are, at times, catching him off guard. This defensiveness of Steve, the way he wants to go slam whoever has hurt the younger man into a wall, to try and make everything better for a guy he previously hated…

Eddie knows what’s gotten into him. It’s his own personality, combined with his own inner sense of someone lost and hurting. Someone who needs to be rescued. 

He just never expected to have it pointed at Harrington. 

“Maybe.” Steve admits finally. “Doesn’t mean they’re wrong though.” 

Eddie can’t help himself. It’s a puzzle in front of him, dangled in the form of Steve and his weird injuries. Steve and his odd reactions. 

Beautiful, gorgeous, straight Steve Harrington, who once pressed his cheek into Eddie’s hands and closed his eyes like he’d found a slice of heaven. 

“Why?” Eddie challenges. He’s still close. Close enough that they’re going to have to pretend to be fighting if anyone else starts making noise. Eddie’s lost track of time entirely, can’t recall what period this is. Where he’s even supposed to be.

Hell, he never even asked why Steve was here. 

Steve’s mouth opens and closes, like he had an answer but suddenly thought better of it. 

He’s still tapping his foot. 

“Why would they be wrong? ” And at first Eddie thinks Steve is turning the challenge back on him, until he clocks the confused crinkle in his forehead, right between his eyebrows. 

Like a dog who just wants to be a good boy, and doesn’t understand why he’s being shouted at. 

‘Eddie, for once in your fucking life, focus!’ He thinks furiously at himself. 

“Because it hurts you. Because all of us “get over” things in different ways, at different paces.” He makes the quotes with his fingers, putting on a fun voice just to try and make even a small smile appear on Steve’s face.

It works, and Eddie grins despite himself and the seriousness of the moment. 

“Doesn’t matter how stupid it is, Steve-O. Our brains don’t care.” He knocks on his own to make his point. 

“I guess.” Steve says, and it’s not an agreement but Eddie will take it. 

Will take anything Steve will give him, which just shows how badly he’s screwing himself.

Straight boys, even ones wrapped up in some kind of mystery and sprinkled with dozens of other things that catch Eddie’s attention like Steve’s his own personal brand of crack, typically don’t mean anything good for him.

This time, he just hopes it can mean something good for Steve.

Eddie might not know much, but he knows Steve deserves something good.

[navnae]

This probably has been written but what if Steve and Eddie signed up for this show that will pay them a million dollars but they have to be a couple first. Everyone is skeptical because they don’t act like a couple in the slightest so the producers ask them to kiss since it should be normal. Steve is already planning in his head how to tell them truth and that him and Eddie were lying. Before he gets the chance to Eddie kisses him right there on the spot, like a real passionate that might get cut out of the show because it’s so intense. The producers are easily convinced and they don’t question either of them ever again. This leads them down a spiral of feeling that they have to deal with while being in a house with other couples that have wacky personalities.

This reminds me of a fic that I was going to write that had the spicy six + Chrissy and Jason, it was going to be a reality show type of feel.

[steviewashere]

Steddie Fic Recs. Part 7!

Previous Recommendations: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

I tend to post these on Tuesday, but I passed the fuck out last night. So, here it is on Wednesday, lol. No themes or anything here. Enjoy these fics if you choose to read them.

If there are any Tumblr blogs tagged and you'd like to not be, feel free to reach out to be removed. I have no qualms doing so. I respect y'all.

As always, the tags and themes vary on all of these fics. Heed all tags, ratings, and archive warnings with caution.

moonbeam by mourningshowers @keycarabiner

“Eddie hums. ‘We’ll figure something out,’ he tells Steve, like they’re friends or something. Like they’ll see each other somewhere after this and won’t just let their eyes skip over one another’s faces—like they’ll actually call out to one another, sit down, catch up.

Steve knows better. Knows their tentative alliance doesn’t exist outside of this mediocre 24-hour diner, at nearly midnight a few days after the Fourth of July. They both know it, Eddie’s just pretending not to.

Strangely enough, it doesn’t stop Steve from saying, ‘Sure.’”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 6,198, Rating: Teen and Up no Archive Warnings apply Different First Meeting AU Post Season 3

———— 2. you don’t know (what hell you put me through) by jewishrat420 @jewishrat420

“Steve kisses Eddie for the first time in the Upside Down.”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 937, Rating: Mature without using Archive Warnings

———— 3. Pancakes For Dinner by Soldotna_And_Queens @soldotnaandqueens

“Eddie sighs, looking up towards the sky, his eyes scanning the clouds like he’s looking for something, anything at all that could keep him from saying what’s on his mind. ‘I want to eat pancakes for dinner with them.’

‘What?’ Steve asks, his brow furrowing.

‘I want to make pancakes for dinner and sit in bed all night laughing. I wanna cuddle on the couch and watch Star Trek while they ask a million questions because they just don’t get it, and when we’re sick or have a cold, we can lay in bed and watch cartoons. I want to get stuck in their head to the point that they’re always thinking about me even at work when they should be focusing on whatever they are doing. I want to get dressed up and go to a nice dinner only to not make it past the front door before getting undressed again and spending the night in bed instead, taking each other apart and drowning in each other.’ Eddie babbles, a far away look slipping onto his face.

Or

How Eddie cryptically confesses his feelings for Steve and Steve can’t let him die without telling him he loves him too.”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 10,439, Rating: Mature with Archive WarningsCanon Divergence AU

———— 4. Summer ‘86 by how_about_no @goditsmeagain

“After everything that happened during Spring Break, life for everyone in Hawkins returned to somewhat normal. Well, aside from Steve’s new friendship with one Eddie Munson.

The gang decide they all deserve a break and head to Steve’s family beach house for a week, featuring copious amounts of fluff, found family bonding, blurring (or completely ignoring) the line between platonic and romantic, and bullying being considered flirting.”

Chapters: 12/12, WC: 51,300, Rating: Mature no Archive Warnings applyPart of a series: Summer ‘86 Verse

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Everything [part four]

[[PART ONE]] [[PART TWO]] [[PART THREE]] [[PART FIVE]] [[PART SIX]]

Pairing: Robin Buckley/ Female Reader

Requested By: NA

Word Count: 3,094

Summary: A tense and uncomfortable first week of senior year leads to you isolating yourself. But you miss your friends. You miss Robin. A surprise visit from Eddie leaves you reeling and unsure of the future.

Content Warning: Drug use (once again, just smokin some weed) Also, tagging this as an Eddie fic because Eddie is really the main character of this part don't yell at me.

Robin Buckley Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Series Masterlist

~~~

You began to pull yourself away from your friends. It started slowly, small things at first. You couldn't go to Steve's house on Saturday because you had too much homework. You couldn't watch movies at Robin's because your mom needed help at home. You couldn't go to The Hideout because you were grounded. You even started eating your lunch in the library to avoid Robin during school hours as much as possible.

For the first few weeks they all tried to call you. They all tried their best to force you out of your self induced isolation. But you wouldn't budge. You felt a nagging sort of pain in your chest each time they called. Until they stopped calling as often, and then barely at all. The only one who stayed consistent with phone calls almost every day was Robin. The one person you wanted to speak to, but the one you knew you needed to stay away from.

Even Eddie had shown up at your house on a Friday night a little over a month into your withdrawal from the group. His beat up two tone van parked in your driveway as he snuck around your house to find your bedroom.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he knocked at your window. It was dark and his brunette mane was hidden in shadows, but his million watt smile lit up your window when you looked over to him.

"Get dressed," he told you after you opened your window for him.

"No."

"Aw, come on," he urged playfully. His hands sat on top of one another on your window sill as he stood outside, the window somehow the perfect height so that he barely had to stoop to see through its frame. "We're all getting together at Harrington's."

"I can't," you lied, running a hand through your hair. "I'm grounded."

"Ah, ah," he stopped you, one hand raising as he shook his head. "You used that one to get out of coming to my show. Which hurt, by the way." He finished with a wink.

"Eddie, I just can't." You were sure that your pain was written across your tired face. You never were good at hiding anything.

"What's goin' on with you?" He asked. His voice was quiet, concern lacing his question as he tilted his head just slightly.

"Nothing's going on, okay. I'm just- I can't."

He was silent, which was weird for him. Not unheard of, but definitely not normal. You felt him watching you as you inspected your carpet, which really needed a good vacuuming.

"You really grounded?" He asked suddenly. His question made you look at him, finally. You just couldn't lie to him. Not anymore.

"No." You answered softly.

"Wanna drive around?" He asked. "Just me and you."

You'd never spent time with just Eddie. Not because you didn't want to, just because the opportunity had never presented itself. But you missed him. You missed the scent of cigarettes that followed him around. You missed his laugh and the way he called you his girl. Well, he called you and Robin "his girls" or "the girls." But you missed it.

You accepted his offer and ten minutes later you were in his van driving towards Steve's neighborhood. "Gotta drop these off," he told you, motioning to the baggie of joints in his cup holder. "But I won't stay."

You agreed to stay in the vehicle while he made the drop. You were sure he told you what excuse he was going to use to get out of the get together, but you didn't remember it by the time he stopped the van outside of Steve's house. You weren't even sure you'd heard it, your own heartbeat thump thump thumping in your ears the closer you got.

"I'll be right back," he told you as he opened the driver's side door and jumped out, leaving it run while he was gone.

He was in and out of the fenced in yard in record time, jogging just a little as he made his way back to the van. Back to you. "All set," he said as he put the vehicle in drive and pulled away. "Where ya wanna go?"

You didn't have an answer. All you really wanted to do was be alone. But you also missed your friends. You didn't know what you wanted. One of the many great things about Eddie Munson was that even though he could be a grade a douchebag, he was also incredibly observant. He saw how you sank into your seat, your head falling against it at his question. So he didn't push it. He just drove.

You perked up when he pulled into the McDonald's drive thru. He pulled up and ordered for the both of you. "Two cokes, two apple pies, and a large fry." The boy knew you. He paid for your food and handed the bag to you as he drove away, pulling back onto the road. You reached into the bag and retrieved a single golden french fry.

"I think they put crack in these things," you moaned as you swallowed. Eddie laughed beside you, turning to face you for a moment.

"Wanna smoke?" He asked, reaching into the paper bag on your lap and pulling out a handful of fries.

"I cannot go home stoned." You told him, even though you really did want to smoke. You needed it. You needed to feel the familiar weight in your lungs. You needed just a moment to stop thinking about Robin. About everything, really.

Eddie shrugged, "You can stay at my place." He offered. "Or I can drop you at Wheeler's. Or Robin's."

Her name struck something in you. The strange and almost scary combination of sadness and anger that hit your senses had you nearly in tears. But you were so tired of crying. And you didn't want to cry in front of Eddie. In front of anyone.

"Your place is good," you answered before giving yourself a chance to talk yourself out of it. "If your uncle doesn't mind."

"He don't care," he told you with a wave of his hand. "Long as I don't get locked up or knocked up he pretty much just lets me be."

You giggled. The first actual smile you'd worn in weeks came to your face and you had to admit it felt good. It shouldn't have surprised you that Eddie would be the one to pull you out of your funk. He always had a way about him that made you feel comfortable. You really appreciated that about him, especially tonight.

You found yourself on his bed a half hour later while he rolled two joints beside you. The food was long devoured and your drinks were sweating wet rings into his bedside table. You took the time to get a good look at his room. Everything about it felt so very Eddie. The posters on the wall, the jacket slung lazily over a hook on the back of his bedroom door. Even the guitar that was hung over the mirror on his dresser. It just felt right.

Eddie moved the tray he'd been rolling on to the floor next to the bed and took one of the joints in his fingers. He lit it quickly, taking a hit before passing it to you.

"Don't worry," he coughed. "It's the shit you like."

You smiled as you took it from his fingers. You brought the end to your lips and hesitantly inhaled. It had been over a month since you smoked last and you didn't want to over do it.

Before long the joint was gone, having been put out in the ashtray next to Eddie's bed. You moved from where you sat cross legged on his bed to lie on your back, your knees bent and your socked feet up on his blankets. He laid beside you, one arm stretched over his head while his hand rested behind his shoulders.

"So, where ya been," he finally asked, tapping your knee lightly with the knuckles of his free hand.

"Home." You answered as you turned your head on his pillow to face him.

He nodded silently as if he were choosing his next words carefully. "Just home?" You nodded. "Wheeler thought you got cooler friends or something." He smiled at you.

"Definitely not," you sighed as you turned your attention back to his ceiling. "Nobody is cooler than you weirdos."

"Well I know that," he laughed. "But we miss ya."

It hurt to hear those words because you missed all of them so much. You wanted so badly to go back to how things had been before. You needed this little group. But you couldn't help the guilt that washed over you as you lay there beside him.

"What's really going on?" He asked again for the second time that night.

You took a deep breath as you studied the nicotine stained ceiling of his bedroom. His hand was suddenly on your thigh, grounding you with its gentle weight. You wanted to tell him everything. You wanted to be able to come completely clean and confess how you'd been feeling the last few months. But you couldn't find the words.

"Have you ever liked someone?" You asked him, your eyes still focused on the ceiling. "Like, actually liked them? Like your world didn't start spinning until you met them kinda like them?"

He thought about your question for a bit. Silence fell over the two of you as he considered your words. "Can't say that I have," he answered finally.

You sighed. "Well, it sucks."

"Why?"

"Because… because when you can't have that person it, like, destroys you, ya know?" You turned to your side, his fingers now smooshed between your jean clad thighs. You propped your head on your hand as you continued. "It's like something that eats at you from the inside. All you think about is them. And it just, like, fucking sucks."

He turned his head slightly to face you. You could see the gears turning in his head but you suspected he wasn't quite connecting the dots. A sober you would have preferred this. But right now, in this moment as you lie beside him, just stoned enough not to care, you wanted him to know. You wanted someone to know.

"It's just… It's really painful to have to watch someone who you'd give everything to be with… fall for someone else." You told him. "So I uh, I guess I just decided to remove myself from the equation."

You still weren't sure if he really understood what you were trying to say, but he didn't push you any further. His fingers were still sandwiched between your thighs and he started rubbing his thumb gently along your leg. You reached your hand out to him, your fingers finding the soft cotton on his shoulder.

You had no idea how long you had been enveloped in the calm, serene silence when Eddie suddenly sat up next to you. "Gonna hit the head," he told you as he walked across the floor. "Need anything?"

"Water?" You all but croaked, suddenly realizing how dry your mouth was. He smiled, nodding his head as he walked out.

A few minutes later he returned with a water bottle for you, his own already opened and half empty in his other hand. He tossed the bottle to you as he set his on top of an amp before bringing his hands to his belt buckle.

"Turn around, ya little creep," he giggled. You did as instructed and rolled over on the bed. Behind you, you heard the soft metallic jingle of his pants hitting the floor. This was followed by a drawer opening and the sounds of fabric rustling. Without warning something soft hit your legs. "Can't let ya sleep in jeans," he shrugged as you lifted the grey and red flannel pants to inspect them. "They're clean, I promise." He giggled as he turned around where he stood, picking up his water bottle and draining the rest of its contents.

You quickly removed your jeans, not even bothering to stand as you shimmied them down your legs. You kicked them off the end of his bed blindly and replaced them with Eddie's pajama bottoms.

"Thanks," you said, giving him the green light to turn around and walk back to the bed.

He lifted the blanket and crawled in next to you. "Gonna get cold out there," his eyebrows rose as he nodded to where you were still lying on top of his blanket. With a teasing eye roll you drew your legs to your chest, raising the blanket above you as you slid them beneath the warm and inviting material. "C'mere," he whispered as he opened his arms to you.

You didn't need to be asked twice. You moved into his side, snaking a hand over his stomach while his arm rested over your shoulders and pulled you tightly to his chest. You hadn't even known how badly you needed this until it was happening. Not necessarily cuddling with Eddie, but human connection. You'd kept yourself cut off from everyone who mattered to you for so long you'd almost forgotten what it was like for one of them to just… be there. Be present with you.

"Better not try to get fresh, Munson." You joked as you let yourself fall into him.

He giggled quietly, the sound extremely welcome to your ears. "Never," he sighed. "Already promised Buck I'd never steal her girl."

Even her nickname was enough to make you go rigid in his arms. He'd called you her girl. Again. Eddie definitely noticed the change in your demeanor. His hand began to stroke up and down your arm as he spoke so softly you weren't sure you were meant to hear it.

"She misses you, too, ya know." He whispered. "Probably more than any of us."

You felt the familiar pain of tears at the backs of your eyes as he spoke. She missed you? You couldn't believe it. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the constant conversations you had with yourself about why you needed to stay away. Why it was better for everyone. Whatever it was, you just couldn't wrap your mind around what he'd told you.

You stayed quiet for a few more minutes as your mind raced. You had no idea where the sudden burst of courage came from, but you decided that it was time to be honest with Eddie. It was now or never.

"Eddie?" Your voice broke as it caught in your throat.

"Hm," he mumbled.

You took a deep breath. And then another. "You know, uh, earlier?" You started, not really sure where this was going to finish. "When I was talking about liking somebody so much that it hurts? Like, physically hurts?"

He grumbled another response. Your throat felt like it was closing as you got closer to your confession. Your body seemed to be going into self destruct mode at the idea of telling anyone your biggest secret. The one you had vowed to yourself that you would keep forever.

Your fingers tightened into his shirt and you felt him move beneath you. His head rising from his pillow just enough to look down at you. Hot tears began to fall painfully from your closed eyes which were pressed firmly into his chest.

"I-" you choked out. "I meant- I was talk-" another sob ripped through you before the words could even form on your lips.

"I know," he whispered. "Sshhh, it's okay. You're okay." His arm around your shoulder tightened and you found yourself almost laying on top of him, your own arms wrapping around him tightly as your fists twisted desperately into the soft cotton of his shirt. You felt his warm lips on your forehead, just below your hairline as his free hand came to the back of your head. "I know, it's okay. It's okay." He repeated into your hair as he held you.

You let yourself break completely at that moment. Months and months of pent up emotions flooding freely, soaking the front of Eddie's shirt in the process. You should have felt bad about that. But you couldn't even think about it. All you could think about was how good it felt that somebody in the world finally knew the truth.

When you woke up the next morning you had no idea where you were. There was a moment of panic when you realized that you were not tucked into your own purple sheets. The moment ended quickly as you scanned your surroundings. Metal posters decorated the walls and clothes littered the floor.

You were in Eddie's bed. You'd gotten stoned and spent the night in Eddie's bed. You'd also told him that you were in love with Robin. You felt sick as you recalled the night before. Sure, he'd been okay with it in the moment. But he was also stoned. Not as much as you, but he'd partaken in smoking right along with you.

What if he'd woken up and finally realized what you'd actually told him. Thoughts raced through your mind at a million miles a minute. He would tell Robin. He would tell her and she would be horrified. You'd be the newest town pariah as soon as word got around school.

"Good morning," Eddie said with a smile as he walked into his bedroom. He joined you in bed, laying on his side to face you. "Hope you're not expecting breakfast in bed 'cause the best I can offer is cold pop tarts." He laughed.

You faked a smile as you thought of your next move. Everything in you wanted to run out the door, slam it behind you and pretend last night was a dream. You wanted to forget. More importantly you wanted Eddie to forget.

"So, last night," you started. "I uh… I think I was talking kind of crazy." You tried to fake a laugh, but even you knew it wasn't believable.

"About what?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"About, like, I don't know… love and shit."

"Didn't seem too crazy to me," he said with a sigh. "Listen, you're one of my best friends. You're my girl," he smiled. "But I think that you need to talk to Robin."

"I don't really know if we've got anything to talk about."

"I think you two have everything to talk about."

~~~~~

I hope you all understand now why this was my favorite part to write. I've been so excited to share this one with everyone.

Feedback is always appreciated! If you'd like to be tagged in future Stranger Things fics, please let me know!! Have a good weekend!! 

Tag List: @oo0lady-mad0oo @uncrownedqueeen @alonezz @goawayrvse @messuhp @imlike-so-gaydude @imnotevenhereee

[inairbinad]

Steve's Got a Date with a Vampire! (7)

Now Complete! | Explicit Part One | Part Six | Read on AO3

warnings: none. just a fluffy little epilogue.

A few days after their first date—first everything—Steve and Eddie decided it was probably time to resurface long enough to actually socialize with other people.

Technically, only Robin and Nancy knew that he and Eddie were officially dating now. But Steve knew well enough that between Dustin’s big mouth and the fact that neither Steve nor Eddie had shown their faces anywhere but at work for several days, everyone in their little group had to know by now. 

Not that Steve minded. He wouldn’t mind putting out a newsletter about it, actually, he was so fucking happy. 

Especially when he kept getting to eat breakfast with Eddie every morning. Or Steve got to eat, at least, and Eddie usually watched while they talked.

It was sickeningly domestic, and Steve absolutely loved it.

“So we’re telling them we’re boyfriends, right?” Steve asked around a mouthful of toast. He considered torturing Dustin a little and pretending they were still dancing around it, just for shits and giggles. But Steve was pretty sure he was too enamored with using the word boyfriend to really get away with such a deception for longer than a minute or two.

“Mhmm,” Eddie hummed softly, not bothering to hide his own satisfied little smile at the thought. Steve had to brush his toes against Eddie’s leg under the table just to do something about how cute it was.

“What about the levitating thing?” Steve asked, unsure if Eddie wanted to keep that just between them. Eddie’s best guess about why it happened was that he was literally so happy he could fly, and Steve wasn’t exactly eager to dispel that notion in any way. Which is exactly what would happen if that became Dustin’s newest “problem” to solve. 

It didn’t seem like Eddie was all that enthusiastic, either. He chewed his lip in thought for a moment before responding.

“I’m really not quite ready to be the flying monkey again, Stevie,” he sighed. “They’ve just started getting used to the new me, anyway. No need to go adding extra oddities to the mix.”

“That’s fair,” Steve agreed, but felt the need to clarify one worry that was written all over Eddie’s face. “But you know everyone’s still gonna love you, flying or not, right?”

Eddie huffed out a soft little sigh, like he did know that deep down, but he had needed to hear it anyway. Then the corners of his mouth twitched up in a teasing grin that made Steve’s heart sputter.

“Oh yeah? Everyone?” Eddie asked, holding Steve’s gaze until his face felt hot from the implication. Eddie didn’t make him sweat it out for long, though, and deftly moved back to the point. “If Dustin finds out about the floating thing, he’s gonna want us to recreate the initial circumstances, for science and shit, and he’s gonna want to watch.”

“Oh, shit,” Steve breathed out, realizing there was no way on earth Eddie could start feeding from his neck again in front of anyone without it being an embarrassing disaster. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Eddie crowed, then slipped his hand up Steve’s thigh beneath the kitchen table and squeezed. “We can always practice figuring it out on our own.”

God, Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, with a surprised jolt Steve realized he didn’t have to quash that impulse anymore. So he leaned across the table with a smile playing at his lips and waited for Eddie to meet him halfway.

Despite days of Steve practically hanging from Eddie’s lips every chance he got, sometimes Eddie still got this little surprised look on his face when Steve moved in to kiss him. On the one hand, Steve wanted Eddie to know deep in his bones that Steve always wanted to kiss him, to touch him, to show his affection in a million ways big and small until Eddie didn’t question it for a second.

And yet.

The little quirk of Eddie’s brow when Steve would start to tip his face to the side, or the sparkle in his eye that read something like again?, and really?, and lucky me, drove Steve absolutely wild. Part of him hoped Eddie never stopped.

Steve didn’t think it’d be a bad thing if neither one of them ever lost a little bit of the wonder at being each other’s, out of all the other people in the world.

Steve relished in that same sparkle for a moment as he nudged his nose against Eddie’s. “Let’s just not fly too high, yeah?”

He really never tired of making Eddie laugh, especially not when he was close enough to feel it, or to see the mirth that lit up his eyes.

“Deal, sweetheart.”

Eddie finally brushed his lips against Steve’s in a soft promise that might’ve been enough to send Steve flying out into orbit anyway.

— — —

A couple of hours later, Steve was lazily lounging on a floatie and trying to catch some sun before the gremlins arrived, while Eddie read a book in the shade nearby. It seemed only fitting that they have another day by the pool, considering how this had all started.

Soon enough, Steve’s peace was thoroughly disturbed by the sound of Dustin’s screeching reaching his ears. Steve bolted upright and turned towards the racket, confused, until he noticed literally everyone standing around the edge of the pool and staring at his chest.

His chest that was littered with bites, bruises, and scratches, all on full display as he sunbathed.

“Oh my god,” Robin said, just barely containing a full-on cackle. When even Robin was staring at his chest with wide eyes and a tilt to her chin, Steve knew he had to be a sight. 

Steve nearly felt embarrassed—but not quite. This was his house, goddamnit, and he’d show off that Eddie was his boyfriend now as much as he damn well pleased.

“Get it out now,” he sighed as he paddled over towards the edge of the pool to climb out. Steve looked over to see Eddie’s reaction, only to find he was very determinedly hiding his face in his book. 

“I knew it,” Dustin squealed, practically bouncing. Steve didn’t think that was a particularly impressive claim, since Dustin had been the one to set it up, but he shrugged it off as everyone else chimed in.

“How are you not dead?” Mike asked, and Nancy did the honors of pinching the back of his neck in response. “What? It’s a legitimate question!”

“Max, you’re staring,” Lucas pointed out, and Max shrugged him off without averting her eyes for a moment.

“So what? We all are,” she said, completely unbothered. 

“Not like that,” Lucas argued as Steve finally got out of the pool and dried off. He wasn’t going to be the one to point out that Lucas himself was very much staring in the same vein as Max, since he was trying to stay humble.

“Dude, that’s true love right there,” Argyle said to Jonathan as much as he did Steve. It was the first thing that made Steve actually blush, so Robin took it as her cue to swoop in and shut down the commentary for now.

“Steve and Eddie are happy, yes?” she asked, looking between them. Eddie finally peeked out from behind his book and gave Robin a blinding smile and a thumbs up. Steve just nodded as he swooned a little. “Right. Then let’s be happy for them and try to act civilized.”

“Thank you, Robin,” Steve shot her a grateful smile that she returned in kind. Then he moved over to sit on the same chair as Eddie, folding himself between Eddie’s legs until his back rested comfortably against his boyfriend’s chest. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s middle, and Steve raised his eyebrows at everyone in a challenge.

No one was cowed, though. Dustin lit up like the sun itself, and the rest of the kids broke out in a chorus of “fucking finally”s while the older teens just gave Eddie and Steve looks of sympathy and happiness in equal parts. 

“That went about as well as we could have hoped,” Eddie muttered in Steve’s ear. 

Steve had barely hummed in response as Dustin came and plopped on the chair beside them. 

“You could at least say thank you,” he grinned.

Steve twisted around enough to look at Eddie, who gave him a sheepish smile in return when he said, “Spoke too soon.”

“Hey, we helped!” Erica called Dustin out immediately, gesturing towards herself and El. Steve already knew that El was involved, but Erica too?

“How did you help?” Steve asked her, cutting right into whatever argument Dustin was teeing up.

“Tina’s brother was the one working the Ferris wheel,” Erica shrugged, and Steve tensed just thinking about being stuck up there again. Eddie squeezed him a little tighter, probably to help Steve remember they were on solid ground just as much as it was to keep Steve from shoving Erica, Dustin, and El into the pool over it. 

Erica didn’t seem bothered by the queasy look on Steve’s face, and explained further. “I threatened to send pages of his journal to his crush if he didn’t let you all dangle for a while after El stopped the wheel. Now Dustin owes me a favor.” 

The devious glint in her eye almost made Steve feel bad for Dustin. Almost.

“You little shits,” Steve grit out, somehow both impressed and irritated at their dedication. “I’m scared of heights!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten on the Ferris wheel then?” Mike chimed in, and Eddie snorted. 

“What happened to leaving them alone?” Jonathan asked calmly. Steve wanted to kiss his forehead.

“I just think I deserve a little credit!” Dustin said. Robin came over to shoo him out of his chair so she could take it for herself, and by some miracle Dustin complied. Steve still wondered how the hell she got him to do whatever she wanted.

“Then so do we,” El affirmed, backing Erica up. “And so does Murray.”

“Murray?” Nancy perked up, more interested now. “What does he have to do with it?”

“Dustin called him up and asked for matchmaking tips weeks ago,” Lucas filled Nancy in. Apparently everyone was privy to Dustin’s plans, and had been all along. Steve didn’t know why he was surprised.

“Is that who you were calling sir over the radio?” Steve asked, the puzzle pieces finally slotting together. “For your ‘project?’”

“Yep,” Dustin beamed, still standing over them while everyone else dispersed to either the pool or their own chairs.

“So you didn’t really come up with any of those schemes on your own, then?” Eddie asked, sounding a little disappointed. 

“I did so!” Dustin squeaked. “All Murray suggested was getting you two alone where you couldn’t avoid each other. Preferably in small spaces, and maybe to encourage some friendly competition. But I did the rest!”

“Yeah, that tracks,” Eddie hummed. “No one but Henderson would’ve come up with the linen closet story.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Dustin challenged, and Steve didn’t really want to rehash how he’d fallen for the nasal spray excuse.

“And our dinner?” Eddie asked, trudging right along. “Did you know it was gonna storm?”

“Of course I did,” Dustin scoffed. “What do you take me for, an amateur?”

“And I assume El was why the power went out?” Steve sighed. 

“Actually, no,” Dustin laughed, obviously proud of himself. “But she would have been if it hadn’t gone out on its own.”

Steve twisted around to give Eddie a look. “I told you so.”

But Eddie had a much more horrified expression on his face, and it took Steve a second to realize why. If Dustin had waited around to see if the power went out, that meant he could’ve seen…

“Wait,” Steve grit out, feeling like his whole body was about to erupt into flames. “How long did you wait around and watch?”

“Just long enough to see you kiss!” Dustin defended himself. And while Steve would admit that was a mildly relieving answer, it still left him thoroughly mortified. 

“You little creeps just stood around in the rain to make sure we kissed?” Eddie asked, his voice sounding much squeakier than usual. 

“We had raincoats,” El shrugged. 

“I needed to be sure you had it covered, Steve,” Dustin said in his most condescending tone. “You weren’t exactly taking initiative!”

Steve didn’t know how Eddie escaped that particular critique, but Steve wasn’t really sure he could stomach any more of this conversation long enough to ask. He felt like he’d just dodged the most appalling bullet of all time—and one that probably would have ruined his sex life at that.

“If I say thank you will you shut up about it? Forever?” Steve asked, completely exasperated and unwilling to hear any more bragging from the little shits. 

Eddie turned into Steve’s shoulder to hide a laugh. Even after days of not taking their hands off of each other, little things like Eddie’s breath on his skin still had Steve feeling all mushy.

“Yes,” Dustin said simply.

“Thank you, Dust,” Steve and Eddie both said in unison. Then Eddie added, “Now shoo. Go play with your friends.”

Dustin rolled his eyes, but he was still grinning as he walked away.

Their peace only lasted about three minutes.

“I know I said we’d drop it, but…” Nancy trailed off, glancing between Eddie’s face and Steve’s neck and chest. “Does this mean we can stop our clandestine trips to the blood bank?”

Steve snorted, imagining Eddie and Nancy driving a getaway car full of bagged blood, but he could feel how Eddie tensed behind him. 

“Uh, maybe less frequently,” Eddie half-mumbled. “Still not trying to kill my boyfriend.”

“Hey,” Steve turned his head to look Eddie in the eye. “I’m fine, okay? No guilt, please.”

Eddie’s lips twitched every time Steve said please, he noticed, so Steve might’ve been tossing the word around a little more than usual. He figured it couldn’t hurt to be polite.

“That reminds me. I got you something,” Robin perked up and started rummaging around in her tote bag. Steve and Eddie alike leaned forward, trying to get a peek at what she was doing. “Aha! Here.”

Robin held out a large, rattling bottle for Steve to take. He pinched his eyebrows together in confusion as he read the label. “Vitamins?”

“Iron supplements,” Robin said. Steve wasn’t sure how she managed to look both playful and stern about it, but she pulled it off with ease. “Take two every day so you don’t get anemic.”

Dustin apparently found this hilarious, which only set off a chain of everyone else snickering in appreciation at Robin’s gift. Steve hadn’t even realized anyone else had even been paying attention to them, but he couldn’t muster much more than an amused eye roll over their antics. Even Eddie chuckled lightly before pressing a soft kiss into the bare skin of Steve’s shoulder, which made it all that much easier for Steve to refuse to be embarrassed about this, too. 

“Thanks Rob,” he said with a genuine smile.

“Oh you’ll thank Robin without issue,” Dustin said, which set Erica and El off again at demanding he stop taking all the credit. With the kids bickering again, Robin leaned in further so only Steve and Eddie could hear her.

“You should probably start eating more salads, too. Leafy greens in particular,” Robin suggested. When Steve just scrunched up his nose at her in reply, she sighed. “It won’t kill you. Might even make you taste better.”

Steve felt his bare chest flush, especially when Eddie’s grip on him tightened just a fraction as he huffed out another laugh. Steve powered through it anyway, shooting Robin a smirk. “I’ve heard I already taste pretty damn good, Robs.”

Eddie’s quick bark of a laugh came with an enthusiastic nod, and now it was Robin’s turn to look disgusted.

“Please don’t ever tell me that again,” she said, even though she was the one who brought it up in the first goddamn place. 

Steve just leaned further back into Eddie’s arms and gave her a smug look. 

“‘Pretty damn good’ doesn’t touch it, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured in Steve’s ear, too low for anyone else to hear. Then, quick like a cat, Eddie licked a stripe up the side of Steve’s neck until he reached Steve’s ear, and gently nipped at the lobe. It sent a shiver down Steve’s spine as he mentally cursed Eddie for making him want with such ease, and in front of everyone else. 

“Eds,” Steve warned over his shoulder. “Not again.”

“What?” Eddie said, voice dripping with faux innocence. “I didn’t even make any popsicles today.”

Steve leaned his head back against Eddie’s shoulder, groaning as much as he laughed. It was going to be a long summer, and Steve couldn’t wait to dive in.

Yeah I definitely have more Vamp!Eddie ideas so. Stay tuned.

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

Steddie Wish Baby AU, Baby Mine

Babies cried a lot. Eddie already knew that. But it seemed this kid, his kid, liked to scream their head off when he so much as put the baby down for even a second.

"Come on, please stop crying. I can't just hold you all the time." Eddie begged the kid as he sat on the couch, rocking the baby on his knee. Looking the child over revealed that this wish baby was a girl. Eddie knew as much about girls as he did about babies. Which was to say, very little. But he couldn't be angry at the kid. She didn't know any better. Staring up at him with her wide doe eyes, curiously reaching out. Her tiny hand caught a strand of his hair and gave it a tug. The baby let out a giggle as she did so. Eddie sighed. He wasn't ready for a kid. How the hell was he even going to tell Steve? Hey, I've had a crush on you forever, and hearing you talk about six little nuggets made me want one? No way. Eddie could do this on his own....somehow...besides, he finally managed to get her to calm down. How hard could it be?

"Eddie? Hey? Are you there?" There was a banging on the front door. The baby broke out of her peaceful trance and began to sob again.

"Oh God damn it." Eddie cursed as he got up. He hesitated to answer the door for a moment before realizing he couldn't hide the baby forever. Going over to the door, Eddie opened it and froze when he saw the very man he was intent on avoiding. Steve Harrington was on his porch. The screen door was the only thing between the two as Eddie gaped. Searching for words to say before managing to stutter a question out. "Er, ugh, Harrington....what are you doing here?" Eddie turned the baby away from the man. Patting her back in an attempt to soothe her.

"Dustin asked me to come check on you. Wanted to make sure you were okay." Of course Dustin would send Harrington to check on him. He watched Steve take a moment to recognize the baby. "Ugh, what's that?" Eddie couldn't help but snort.

"It's a baby Harrington. You of all people should know-"

"I mean, why do you have one?" Straight to the point. Eddie couldn't reasonably say babysitting. Who would trust a recently acquitted Satanic murderer with their child? The truth was out of the option too....

"She's ugh, well, you ever hear about the term wish baby?" Steve blinked at him. Looking at Eddie, then the baby in his arms, then back at Eddie.

"You made a wish baby?"

"Not on purpose!" Eddie defended himself. "It's a long story. But yeah. This little gal is mine."

"Oh." Steve stared for a moment. "She looks like you."

"Yeah."

"So....who's the mom?" There it was. The million dollar question.

"I can't tell you. It would ruin her life." Last thing Eddie wanted to do was drag Steve down with him. He only knew a few things about the Harrington family via passing comments from Steve and Robin. But he knew enough to know that if Harrington Senior found out Steve had a kid with another man, a Munson, he would not be happy. "Her parents would kill her if they found out."

"Shit." Steve paused. Only now did Eddie realize the baby had stopped crying. "So, are you going to keep her?"

"Yeah....yeah I'm the reason she's here in the first place. I can't just dump her off some place and run away."

"Raising a baby on your own is a lot. Do you even have stuff for a baby?" Eddie shook his head.

"No. I don't even know where to start." Eddie admitted as his grip on the baby tightened slightly. "Only been a dad for a few hours and I'm already doing a sucky job."

"Hey, don't say that." Steve frowned. "Listen-I'll take you shopping. We'll get the stuff she really needs and go from there."

"Steve, you don't have to do this. I'm not some charity case."

"No, but you are my friend." Eddie didn't want to admit how his heart skipped a beat when Steve called him a friend. "Come on, we can go to Wally World and get everything we need for the kid."

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Yeah, of course!" Steve nodded excitedly. He had no reason to be this enthusiastic and supportive, yet here he was, willing to help with anything Eddie needed for their baby. A small smile crossed Eddie's face. Knowing that even if he didn't tell Steve, at least he'd still be in their daughter's life.

"Mind holding her while I go grab my coat?"

"Oh, ugh-yeah! I can do that." Steve agreed. Eddie opened the screen door and stepped out. He carefully handed the baby to Steve, the child almost instinctively curling into her other father's arms like she had with Eddie previously. For a moment, it was like they were a happy little family.