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#but steve doesn't need to know about that
ashwhowrites · 2 days
Note
Could you possibly do a part 2 of the pick me, choose me, love me fic that you did for Eddie x reader
I had a few people wanting a part 2 so I hope this will be a great ending for everyone!
Pick me, choose me, love me part 2
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Y/N yawned as she opened her eyes. She was confused at first but then remembered where she was and why. She felt her stomach sink as she thought about Eddie. It killed her to know her best friend betrayed her and she felt sick at the thought that he knew how she felt for months and never said a thing.
She blinked away her tears as she felt a body moving next to her. She looked over her shoulder, letting out a small laugh as Steve's face was buried in the pillows. She rolled over to face him, closing her eyes to try to get more sleep.
Steve started groaning so she opened her eyes. She smiled when his barely open eyes looked at her. He gave her a tired smile, his hair all over the place as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.
"Morning," he said, his voice low and deep from just waking up. "Did you get any sleep?"
"I did. Thanks for letting me crash here," she said, a sad smile on her face. "Guess I should start figuring out what the hell I'm going to do."
"I know what you need to do first," he said, slowly sitting up. The sheet moved and exposed his hairy chest as he smiled over at her.
"What's that?" She asked, trying to keep her eyes respectful.
"Breakfast" he whispered. He laughed as she pushed his shoulder.
"Just when I thought you were going to be helpful!" She teased. She got out of bed and groaned. "Fuck, I don't have clothes or anything."
"I'll drive you home and you can grab a few things. We'll go to breakfast and plan what you want to do next." Steve offered, and Y/N smiled down at him.
"Thank you, Steve. For all of this and helping."
Steve slipped out of bed and walked over to pull her into a hug.
~
Y/N sighed as they walked up to her door, Eddie's car was up front so she knew she was going to face him.
"You can do this. Just go straight to your room and grab what you need." Steve encouraged. She nodded and unlocked the door.
Steve followed behind her as they walked in. Y/N held her breath as she walked into the living room, Eddie and Kathy were cuddled on the couch watching TV. Upon seeing her, Eddie stood up shocked. Kathy grumbled as her body slumped against the couch.
"Y/N?"
"I'm just here to grab a few things and I'm gone." She snapped, rolling her eyes when she looked at Kathy. She walked to her room and Steve stayed behind. Y/N knew Eddie picked Kathy but it pained her to see that after the huge blowout, he was still right by her side.
"Eddie, Kathy" Steve greeted
"Playing the knight and shining armor, Harrington? I mean how long has she been running to you and she still has no feelings for you!" Eddie smirked
"Let's see," Steve pretended to think, "I think the first time was when you got completely drunk and told her that sometimes you have dreams about marrying her. Oh! Then a minute later, your tongue was down a girl's throat! That was maybe freshmen year? So um since then!" Steve said as he snapped his fingers. "I don't need her to have feelings for me to care about her. It doesn't give me a purpose to be a cocky son of a bitch like you."
Eddie's smirk dropped and he felt anger rush through him. "I've always cared about her. Her having a crush on me didn't change any way that I treated her!"
"That's true," Steve said as he stepped closer. "It's her that changed the way you treated Y/N." He whispered, his eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder to Kathy.
"You're pathetic, Harrington" Eddie growled, "she has never looked twice in your direction and you think that'll change because she's hurting? You'll just be a rebound. You'll never be me."
"You think I want to be you?" Steve laughed, "She runs away from you and comes straight to me. She comes to me for comfort, for love, for support. You fucked up, man. If she wants a rebound, I'll give her a rebound. I'll give her every damn reason to never speak to you again. You got Kathy, you're not the winner here."
"You'd take advantage of her and fuck her?" Eddie growled, shoving Steve's body.
"Be careful there Eddie, sounds like you might be jealous," Steve winked. He loved edging Eddie on. "I'd never take advantage of her, I'm nothing like you."
"Steve, I'm ready to go," Y/N said as she walked out with a bag.
"Yeah, me too," Steve said
"Y/N, can we please talk?" Eddie asked, ignoring the pain he felt when she stood next to Steve and held his arm for comfort. She used to hold his arm when she needed comfort.
Y/N wanted to say yes, but seeing Kathy on her old couch reminded her nothing was going to change and she'd keep getting hurt.
"Nothing we need to say. Once I figure out where I'm going to stay, I'll be here to pack everything up. Enjoy your life, Eddie." She said sadly, tugging on Steve's arm.
Eddie watched as they walked out, a different feeling swarming around his stomach.
~
"I think if I moved a few blocks down, it should still be in my price range," Y/N said, cutting up her eggs.
"Do you really want to deal with that? And you'll have to find a roommate." Steve explained, then shoved a mouthful of waffles in his mouth.
"What else can I do? Staying with Eddie is not an option. He'll probably have Kathy move in so I don't think he'll give me the place."
"Live with me," Steve shrugged
Y/N choked on her water, coughing as she set down her cup.
"You don't want me living with you. I'm going to be a mess with all my emotions and you deserve a break some days," she joked, but a sad reality to her words.
"I'll never need a break from you. You've been staying at my place for years when you need it. The only difference is that it's your place now too." Steve explained
"I don't know. What about when you want girls around? You don't need a sobbing girl across the hall." Y/N argued.
"I want you there," Steve said as he reached over and held her hand. "Give it a chance before you go out and spend all your money. It's a free trial!" Steve joked
He smiled when she let out a laugh. "Okay, fine. I'll be your trail roommate!"
~~~
It didn't take long for Y/N and Steve to spend every moment together. She always felt happiest around Steve and she forgot how good it felt. He always had her smiling and laughing, and it was refreshing.
After a week, Y/N forced herself back to work. She wasn't sure how it would go now that she and Eddie weren't talking. Or at least she wasn't, he still called every day. She was worried he would be sitting at the bar like he always did, she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing him.
"What do I even say? Can I ignore him? Or do I have to sit there and serve him drinks like he didn't break my heart!" Y/N ranted as she got herself ready for work. Steve sat on her newly claimed bed, admiring her as she brushed through her hair frantically.
"Would you feel more at ease if I came with you?" Steve asked, "If he gets out of line, I'll cut in."
Y/N smiled at him through the mirror, "You'd do that for me? I'm sure there's a better way to spend your Friday night."
"I'd do anything for you, doll." He smiled
~
"So, how long are you going to wait until you tell her the truth?" Robin asked, playing with the small umbrella in her drink.
Robin and Steve were sitting at the bar, keeping Y/N company throughout her shift. The bar was busy and packed so she was able to keep her mind off Eddie. And it helped that he still hadn't shown.
"What do you mean?" Steve asked, Robin smirked as his eyes stayed on Y/N as she walked through the bar.
"Can you stop staring for a second and talk to me?" Robin joked, hitting Steve's arm.
Steve blinked and looked at Robin, "happy?"
"Yes, and you know exactly what I mean. You can't torture yourself by never telling her you are in love with her." Robin said she could see the emotions changing in Steve's eyes.
"I know and I will tell her. But she's still hurting right now and throwing that on her would be inappropriate. I want her to heal."
"No, you want her to be over Eddie." Robin corrected
"You're a pain in the ass," Steve groaned
"Drinks?" Y/N asked as she leaned over the bar to grab Steve's beer. He coughed as her cleavage poured out of the tiny tank top the bar made her wear.
Robin snickered and Steve was quick to kick her with his foot.
"For you," Y/N smiled as she placed the beer on Steve's napkin, he went to grab it and his fingers gently touched hers. Y/N couldn't help but let her fingers linger before she pulled away. Snapping back into reality as Robin coughed.
"Another one for you, Rob?" Y/N asked politely
"I'm good, gorgeous." Robin winked
Y/N winked back and went to help other customers.
"Do you have to flirt with her right in front of me?" Steve teased
"Let the show begin," Robin said with a smirk as she nodded her head towards the front. Steve looked to the door and there Eddie was walking in.
Steve glared flames into Eddie as he walked further into the bar and took a seat on the other side. Steve smiled when she walked right past Eddie and came to him.
"What do I do? I'm panicking" Y/N whispered, trying her best not to look over her shoulder.
"Want me to ask him to leave?" Steve asked, already standing up
"No!" Y/N said, "I don't need you guys fighting. It's my problem, I need to be an adult and just face him."
"I'll be right here if you need me. Just call me over," Steve said as he sat back down. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"Thank you," she said
Robin watched as she left. "He seems pissed. You really get under his skin, don't you?" she asked
"He doesn't like that she realized she doesn't need him," Steve shrugged as he sipped on his beer
~
"Is he your new bodyguard or does he just follow you around like a love-sick puppy?" Eddie scoffed
"What do you want to drink?" Y/N asked, ignoring his comment as she grabbed a glass
"You might not be talking to me right now, but I'm still your best friend and we can work this out," Eddie explained
"Are you going to break up with her?"
"Why does that have to be the only outcome?"
"Not understanding why tells me there's nothing worth working out. If you were my best friend you wouldn't have hurt me while you knew I have feelings for you. It took me too damn long to see that you don't care about me as much as you say you do. You picked Kathy, you get to live with that choice. And when you wake up and finally realize you picked a fake bitch over the girl who actually loves you, don't you even think about me." She spat, slamming down his glass of beer.
She felt proud as she turned around and walked over to Steve
Eddie gripped his glass as he fumed watching her laughing with Steve.
~~~
A few weeks passed and things were changing. The more time Y/N spent with the Steve, the less she thought of Eddie. She was moving on from him and slowly falling into Steve.
She realized it all on a random Sunday. Steve had his friends over for the football game, everyone was cheering and having a good time. Y/N didn't really watch football but she was dressed in one of Steve's jerseys, sitting next to him on the couch. Her legs were sprawled out on his lap, and his large left hand was softly tracing shapes on her bare skin. His eyes were focused on the TV, his mouth running as he talked with his friends. He was occupied by everything around him, but his touch never left her.
There was a knock on the door and Steve got up to answer it
"Hey Y/N," Robin greeted as she walked in with more beer
"Hey girl," Y/N smiled, she stood up so Robin could take her spot. The couch was full and Y/N prepared to head off to her room.
Steve sat down and cracked open a beer, within seconds he was lost in the game. But no matter how occupied he was, he would always know if she was missing.
"Whatcha doing over there? Come sit," Steve laughed as Y/N stood in the hallway
"Robin needs a spot and this is your friend time. I can hang in my room, don't worry about me!" Y/N shrugged
"I can grab a stool from the kitchen!" Robin offered, going to stand up but Steve pushed her back down.
"Nonsense, there is room for both my girls, come here," Steve said as he waved her over
Y/N slowly walked over, she leaned down to whisper in Steve's ear
"I don't want to be rude and make all your friends move," Y/N looked around the couch, all the boys zoned in on the TV and she didn't want to disturb that.
Steve didn't say anything, waiting until she stood up. Once she did, he turned her around and grabbed her hips, throwing her right down on his lap. She squealed in surprise.
Steve wrapped one arm around her and moved up to whisper in her ear,
"This okay?"
The feeling of his hard body against her back, the raspiness in his whisper, his breath tickling her ear, and the way his hand rested on the inside of her thigh made her think of Steve in ways she never had.
"Yeah, it's okay," she said, her voice cracking as she squirmed. Her eyes were on the TV but her mind was busy imagining Steve's hard body in different scenarios.
Ever since then, a crush on Steve formed and kept getting out of control.
~~~
More weeks passed and Y/N was a mess for Steve. She tried to keep it under control, cussing herself out for crushing on all the guys she moved in with. She knew how bad it ended last time and did not want to lose Steve too.
But he made it so hard
It was his birthday and he wanted to go clubbing. So now Y/N was slipping on her tightest dress, with her best heels, and perfecting her hair and makeup.
"Hey, are you re-" Steve cut himself off as his jaw dropped. He stared at her as she finished her lipstick. She stood up and turned around to face him. She shivered at the way he looked her up and down, once again making controlling her crush harder to do.
"Yes, let's go!" she rushed out, speeding past him so she could feel herself breathe again.
They were at the club for a few hours, a few drinks, and a lot of dances. They weren't drunk, but their liquid courage seemed to make them more free with each other. Y/N would never be grinding on Steve's body if she was fully sober. And Steve wouldn't be sucking on her neck if he was fully sober. But the heat between them was too much to ignore, the sexual tension needed to be acted upon, or neither would be able to move on.
So lost in lust, neither remembered how they got home. But it didn't matter as they pushed through their front door with their lips locked. They made out as they walked to Steve's room, pushing open his door. Steve pulled away as they walked towards his bed, she stopped when her legs hit the mattress.
"Is this what you want?" He asked, his chest moving rapidly as he breathed hard. She admired his red lips, loving the way she could see just how hard they were kissing. Then she looked into his eyes, so dark and swimming with lust. She wished she was looking at herself through his eyes because she must have looked beautiful by the way he couldn't look away.
"Make me feel good, birthday boy," she whispered, a smirk on her lips as he moaned. She gasped when he pushed her body against the bed and climbed on top of her.
His mouth was on hers as his hands moved under her dress. She moaned as he teased her cunt over her thin underwear. His long fingers slid up and down, his mouth sucking away her breath as she panted underneath him.
Neither wanted to spend time with foreplay, both early tearing each other's clothes off. He was painfully hard and she had never felt so wet in her life. She was running her fingers through his hairy chest and her other hand scratching down his back. His head buried in her neck as he pushed himself inside of her.
He started slow, memorizing how she felt wrapped around him. He had been dreaming of this for years and he didn't want to rush anything. But the way she moaned, begging him for more, and whispering dirty words in his ear made him want to lose himself inside of her.
"Steve please, I can handle it," she begged. He felt amazing don't get her wrong, but she wanted him to fuck her like an animal.
"I've wanted this for so long, I want to feel everything," he said against her lips, his forehead softly pressed against hers. She smiled at his words, feeling her heart burst.
"I promise this won't be the only time. Show me how desperately you want this, let yourself go," she said, reaching up to hold his cheek
He turned his head to kiss her palm
"Tell me if you need me to stop," he said
The second she nodded, his mouth attacked her chest. She moaned out as he bit down on her nipple, tugging it was his teeth as he drilled his cock inside of her.
"Fuck yes," she moaned, smiling as she felt pleasure running all throughout her body. He was long and thick, feeling like heaven inside her as he fucked her fast.
"You feel amazing, baby," He moaned
His bed was smacking the wall
His balls were smacking against her skin
Her moans were turning into screams
"Make me cum, Steve. Make me cum," she whined, throwing her head back
"Gladly" he smirked, and he slid himself out of her. Giving her no time to whine in protest as he flipped her around. She clawed at his pillows as he pushed her hips up, her ass in the air.
She gasped in pleasure as he slipped himself back inside of her, keeping a rapid pace as he moved his right hand down to her clit. She felt her eyes roll in the back of her head as he swirled his fingers against her clit, adding to the pleasure that was building in her stomach.
"Yes, yes, yes" she chanted like a prayer as she felt herself getting close. Then he slipped out of her again and she wanted to cry. But then she felt his wet tongue pushed inside of her.
She cried into the pillows as he tongue fucked her and kept his fingers rubbing circles on her clit. She didn't have time to warn him, her thighs shook and she felt everything snap.
Steve moaned as he felt her cum soak his face. He happily ate her cum, humming at her sweet taste. He groaned as he felt his cock twitch, he pulled back and pushed himself back inside her wet cunt.
She yelped at the overstimulation, crying into the sheets as he chased his orgasm.
"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum so hard" he moaned
"Fucking," thrust "Gorgeous," thrust, "best" thrust, "sex of," thrust, "my life,"
"Oh my god" Y/N whined as she felt Steve cumming inside of her. She could feel his warm cum painting her walls, every drop inside of him, her cunt milking him until he was empty.
His sweaty body collapsed against her back. He panted as he slowly stood up with shaky legs. She rolled her body over, a blissful smile on her face. Her eyes were heavy as she looked at him through her lashes, his sweaty and toned body standing over her.
He looked down at her in awe
She wiggled her finger to call him closer, he listened and leaned down. She smiled as she leaned up and softly kissed his lips.
~
The next morning Steve was in the kitchen making breakfast, his chest bare and a pair of sweatpants low on his hips. When he moved a certain way he could feel the scratches on his back and he'd hiss at the sting.
He was lost in memory when he heard a knock on the door. He turned off the stove and walked over to the door. He opened it and was surprised to see Eddie.
"I need to talk to Y/N," he demanded
"Hello to you too Eddie, and I don't think that is a good idea," Steve explained, ready to shut the door but Eddie stopped the door with his hand
"I don't care what you think, I need to talk to her," Eddie argued
"Well, she's not here so bye," Steve again tried to close the door but Eddie wasn't having any of it.
"I feel like I can barely walk, Steve. Jesus chr-EDDIE!" Y/N froze as she walked out of the bedroom. Her eyes locked between Eddie and Steve, both men looking mad as ever, but for different reasons.
Eddie felt his heart race as she stumbled as she walked, her words, and the dark marks on her neck. Eddie didn't take long to connect the dots; all he saw was red.
"YOU FUCKER!" Eddie screamed, taking Steve down to the floor. Y/n screamed in panic as Eddie and Steve began to brawl on the ground in front of her.
"EDDIE GET OFF!" Y/N screamed, grabbing his arm and shoving him away from Steve. Eddie stood on his feet, glaring as she helped Steve stand up. She frowned at the little blood that fell from Steve's nose.
"What the hell is your problem!" Y/N spat, turning around as her glare landed on Eddie
"He's my fucking problem," Eddie hissed, pointing his finger at Steve as he seethed in anger. "I knew all along that fucker liked you. Sitting in the corner, being a shoulder for you to cry on so he can make moves on you!"
"Why do you care so much? It's not like Y/N is your girlfriend, Eddie. I'm not in the wrong for going after what I want. You've got your girlfriend to focus on so leave us alone" Steve spat
"Kathy and I broke up"
Y/N whipped her head to look at Eddie, pure shock on her face
"What?" Y/N asked
Eddie looked at Y/N, softly grabbing her hand. Steve held himself back from tearing Eddie's hand off.
"I miss you," he said, his eyes staring deep into Y/N's. "I realized everything too late, I know that. But you changed my life and I'm never going to get over losing you. I should have listened when you warned me and I regret nothing more than picking her over you. I'm jealous, I'll be honest. The idea of you and him," Eddie said as he nodded his head towards Steve with a pained look, "breaks my heart. I thought I was so angry about it because I wanted to protect you, but I know that's not why."
"Eddie, what are you saying?" Y/N gulped
"I'm saying that I'm jealous and angry about Steve because I have feelings for you. I think I always have, it just took so damn long to realize it. I love you and I'm sorry for all the pain I put you through. I want you to come home, and I want to work this out. I want you."
Steve could feel his heart-shattering in his chest with every word. It hurt to see the look in Y/N's eyes. It was everything she wanted to hear ever since she fell for him. Eddie confessed he was in love with her, and Steve had no idea where that left him.
"Eddie I-I" Y/N stuttered, she was honestly at a loss for words
"Just say you love me too," Eddie begged, pushing his forehead against hers, he held her face in place. His rough hands on her delicate cheeks
Steve had to look away, the water filling his eyes as he tried to hold back his tears
"I love you too," she whispered
Steve bit down on his lip as hard as he could, silencing his sobs as his body shook. He did everything for her, he treated her the way she deserved, and he still wasn't going to get the girl.
"But I'm not in love with you anymore"
Her words made both boys freeze
Y/N stepped back, taking Eddie's hands off of her.
"What?" Eddie whispered, a pained look in his eyes as she kept stepping back
"I spent years wanting to hear you say that, but I've never felt loved by you. But Steve," she said, walking over to him. She softly grabbed his hand, "he shows me how much he loves me every day"
"I understand," Eddie choked out
Steve and Y/N watched as Eddie left, the door closing behind him
"So, you've uh liked me that long?" Y/N asked, a small smile on her face as she turned to look at Steve
"Just a bit," he shrugged
Y/N stood in front of him, dropping his hand to reach up and wipe away his tears
"I like you too, you know just a bit," she joked, loving the way he smiled and laughed
"I was preparing to lose you" Steve sighed
Y/N nodded and cupped his cheek, she leaned in and kissed his lips. "You won't. I pick you"
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oscconfessions · 3 days
Note
Now that the askbox is back open and it has been a couple weeks:
The II twist is good and you all are misinterpreting it
When Steve Cobs said 'Mephone didn't just make the show, he made you' he means that Mephone created the contestants as real living people of whom are equitable to original characters
This means YES you CAN SHIP MEPHONE WITH HIS CONTESTANTS as that's just like you shipping yourself with your oc.
THIS ACTION THAT MEPHONE DID WAS SOMETHING HE DIDN'T REALIZE HE WAS DOING. He unintentionally created the contestants with his powers. This is why when he is asked by Cobs 'Why (he) did it', he responds with a very confused sounding '...What?'. That means he didn't put thought into their flaws and attributes, all of those things were unintentional.
AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, THIS MEANS THAT ALL THE CHARACTERS ACTIONS ACTUALLY DO MATTER. They all ARE real people. The show IS REAL. Just because Cobs told them that Mephone created them doesn't mean that they are not real in universe.
ANOTHER THING!!! WHEN COBS IS TALKING ABOUT MEPHONE AS IF MEPHONE IS A CHILD, THIS IS A TACTIC USED BY ABLEIST PARENTS TO MAKE THEIR ADULT CHILDREN SEEM AS IF THEY NEED TO BE CONTROLLED BY THEM. THIS IS LITERALLY AN ABUSE TACTIC. Yes there are people who do need to have support from their parents but Mephone4 has been proven to be able to function without the help of Cobs. That being said, IF YOU BELIEVE MEPHONE IS A CHILD, YOU ARE BEING MANIPULATED BY STEVE COBS TOO!!! YOU ARE BELIEVING HIS LIES!!! Yes, Mephone4 has done actions that are very immature, but, get this, Mephone4 is very developmentally disabled!!! It's literally shown to be a trait of his throughout the entire show!!! He can't do the things other Mephones are able to do while at the same level as them! Mephone4 is developmentally disabled, and Steve Cobs is using that flaw to make it seem like he's a child, WHICH HE IS NOT, in order to gain control over him.
Now, onto my theory for the next part of ii16;
Cobs will use this information against Suitcase and Knife. Cobs will most definitely make it seem like Mephone has been lying to them all this time about the competition. Cobs will most definitely try to manipulate them to get what he wants; control over the show and therefore Mephone4's actions. Now I know for sure Knife will not get this easily swayed by Cobs; Knife's entire arc in season 2 has consisted of trying to get people to stop being manipulated by others. Suitcase however... as strong as she has been throughout the season and as strong as she's slowly gotten, I am still unsure on whether or not she'd be able to see through Cobs. Part of me believes that she'd immediately believe him and decide that the only good way things can 'end' is if Cobs has control over Mephone4.
Anyways. Really needed to get this off my chest bc Jesus mcfucking christ ppl's media comprehension is TERRIBLE!!!!!! Go outside and touch some grass!!!!!
thank you anon for saying what needed to be said-📻
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You and me makes three
(or four, or five ...)
Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 4
Prompts: Breeding Kink & Vibrator
Rated: E
Words: 1,359
Tags: Omegaverse; A/B/O dynamics; Alpha Steve; Omega Eddie; Mates; Mpreg; Pregnancy Kink; Breeding Kink; Vibrators; Knotting; Possessive Steve; Jealous Steve
Notes: Set in the same universe as Whatever you want it to be
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“Steve. Stevie, c’mon. Wake up, please.”  
Steve shoots upright with a sound that's half snore and half growl, bleary eyes scanning the bedroom for threats. Then, his nostrils flare and the feral snarl gives way to a disbelieving frown. 
“What, seriously?” he asks. “Again?” 
Eddie shrugs. The movement makes more slick ooze from between his legs. Maybe he'd be embarrassed about it, if Steve's pupils didn't blow up like that, or if his scent didn't spike like it does. Or if he wasn't feeling this desperately, mind-numbingly horny.
“Sorry?” he says. “I'd take care of it myself, but it's getting kinda hard to reach, what with your kid in the way.” 
Being pregnant is fucking bizarre.
Eddie has tried to approach it with an open mind, once the initial shock wore off and Steve assured him he wasn't going anywhere. But now, six months in? The whole thing just continues to weird him out.
Don’t get him wrong, he loves Steve. He’s the most perfect alpha and mate Eddie could've asked for. He’s going to make an amazing father to this kid. Which Eddie is sure will be adorable. He just sort of wishes he could skip the part where he needs to grow it in his own belly, being forced to put up with another hormone-induced ridiculousness every other week.
Hell, he thought the morning sickness was bad. Or the mood swings. Or the inexplicable cravings for salt and vinegar potato chips at three in the morning. But this most recent thing is well and truly taking the cake. 
Steve yawns and grumbles, and Eddie can't say he blames him. The kid isn't even born yet and here he goes, robbing them both of their much needed sleep because his body has decided they need to get it on at least two times a day or perish. It’s fucking stupid! 
Still, Steve folds back the covers, pulls open the nightstand drawer, and slips closer. Eddie sighs in relief when his mate's naked body slots into his from behind, already hard and pressing against his entrance, right where he needs it. Only a second later, the warm, solid weight of Steve’s cock is joined by something else, something smoother and colder, and the sigh turns into a low moan. Steve laughs softly and kisses his naked shoulder as the dildo hums to life.
What did he say? Best goddamn alpha in the world. 
“This is so weird,” Steve murmurs as he pushes in, the combined girth of his cock and the toy stretching Eddie wide open, his free arm wrapping around the soft swell of Eddie’s belly to pull him close. “This was in none of the pregnancy books.” 
“I know, ri-?” Eddie starts to say, but needs to stop himself for the chirp that bubbles from his chest. He feels deliciously full, the low vibrations of the toy sending shivers all the way down his spine, making little fireworks sizzle low in his abdomen. “Right? Seriously, what the fuck? You’ve knocked me up already, not like you can put ano- … another one in there.” 
Steve, who has just started rolling his hips in lazy circles, goes very still. For a few seconds, the only sound in the bedroom is that of the dildo still humming away.
“What?” Eddie asks when he still hasn't moved after a while. “Steve, I swear to God, if you've fallen asleep with your dick inside of me I'll-” 
“No,” Steve blurts. “I'm awake. It's just …” 
He pauses to clear his throat and fidget, and that is when Eddie catches the change in his scent. Earthy and heady and distinctly aroused.  
“Oh God,” he groans. “Don't tell me that does it for you!” 
“What?” Steve mutters, and Eddie doesn't need to see his blush to know it's there. “You gotta admit, the thought is kinda hot.” 
His hand finds Eddie’s belly, splaying over the round shape of it, and Eddie’s own cock twitches treacherously.
“Shut up, it's not,” he says, even as the familiar feeling pools at the base of his spine, hot and tight and urgent. Steve chuckles, pressing his face into the crook of his neck and scraping his teeth over the mating bite there. 
“Your scent says otherwise, baby,” he murmurs, and Eddie can feel his smile against his skin as another chirp escapes him. “Just imagine … me stuffing you with my cock? Filling you up with my come, knotting you so good that not a single drop escapes? Breeding you round and full with my pups? I wonder how many I could put into you.” 
“Oh God,” Eddie groans, baring his neck for better access and rocking his hips back as Steve finally, finally starts moving his cock and the toy inside of him again. “You're such a weirdo.” 
Steve laughs, picking up speed. “Takes one to know one. Maybe that's the reason you can't get enough lately. Why no matter what I do, you never seem to be full enough. Why I need to use this thing…” 
He pauses to push the toy in further, hitting that spot deep inside that sends sparks of pleasure zapping all the way into Eddie’s fingertips and toes. 
“... to get you anywhere near satisfied for a few hours.” 
“Aw, don't tell me you're jealous,” Eddie says. He tries to sound teasing but it comes out a lot weaker than intended. It's difficult, being smart while Steve is taking him apart in all the best ways. “You know there's no need to, right? Not with your baby in my belly and your mark on my neck. I'm all yours and nobody else's, alpha.” 
Steve growls at the word, his summer forest scent filling the room like a tangible thing, and that is all the warning Eddie gets before the toy is pulled out and he finds himself flipped on his back, Steve's cock still inside of him, Steve’s lips claiming his for a hungry kiss.
“Nobody else’s,” Steve repeats. The bed frame creaks under the power of his thrusts as he fucks Eddie into the mattress. “All mine, forever and ever and ever.” 
Eddie can’t say he minds the thought one single bit. 
*
“You’re so beautiful like this, have I told you?” 
Dawn is starting to creep through the blinds of the bedroom window, but Steve keeps running reverent hands over Eddie’s belly, eyes full of awe, and Eddie preens under the attention. 
“Don’t mind if you tell me again, big boy.” 
Steve purrs, pushing back Eddie’s sweaty fringe so that he can kiss his forehead and the bridge of his nose. “Absolutely breathtaking. My mate, carrying my child. I’m gonna put so many in you.” 
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Eddie yawns, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back as well as he can. The movement makes Steve’s knot, still large and locked inside of him, catch deliciously. “Can we just try to make it one after the other? I like actually walking places instead of rolling. Call me old-fashioned, but it’s an ability I’m rather attached to.” 
“Oh, yeah?” Steve gives him a smug grin and rolls his hips. “There's another thing you're attached to right now, and that's my-.” 
Eddie slaps a hand in front of his mouth. “Ugh, you're such a dork. I hope the kid doesn't inherit your sense of humor.” 
Steve kisses his open palm. 
“I hope they inherit your everything,” he says, ridiculously earnest, and Eddie needs to bury his face in the sheets to hide the way his face ignites. 
“Whatever,” he mumbles at the pillows, ignoring how Steve’s chest quivers with barely concealed laughter. “Let's go back to sleep. Have you looked at the time?” 
“Says the one who woke me because he needed to get dicked,” Steve grumbles, but obediently pulls the covers over them, curling himself around Eddie. 
Silence descends over the bedroom, and Eddie loses himself in Steve’s soothing scent as he slowly begins to drift off again. 
“Don't listen to him,” he hears Steve whisper, just before sleep claims him. “I'm hilarious and he knows it.” 
A warm hand settles on his belly. 
“Sleep well. Can't wait to meet you.” 
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More smutty September
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innorogers · 2 days
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Reverie
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Steve Rogers x Reader (You)
Summary: Steve doesn't care about you past, but he is hesitating if he should take things further. Until he saw that punk trying to make a move on you...wait, did he say his name is Walker? John Fucking Walker?!
Warning: Minors DNI / Minors DNI / First Time / First Date / Fluff? / Smut / Unprotected Sex /
Characters: Natasha, Tony, OCs, John Walker, Timeline is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive.
Also: You don't have to read the previous two chapters, but it would enhance the experience if you did. And thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️
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Chapter 1: Insomnia | Chapter 2: Lucid
"We'd better get going…" you panted between breaths, your words more moans and whispers than actual sentences. As his lips moved further into your skin, the glasses of the windows grow foggier and steamed.
"...I know... we should," he replied, marking your collarbone with his voice hoarse and raspy. One hand pressed against your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, while the other tangled in your hair. "I just don’t think I can…" he muttered, kissing your breast and leaving love marks, sucking and soothing them.
Me neither. You thought to yourself while grabbing his head to pull him closer. And I don't want to.
But the car horns honked twice outside the building, jolting Steve to a halt.
"Shit, I don’t think we’re getting away with this..." he sighs, breathing heavily as he rested his head on your shoulder, trying to calm his body. It was hard, though, especially with you looking the way you did—hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, forehead damp, and lips swollen. Goddamn, you are sexy as fuck. Your shirt was half-torn, shoulders marked with bites, and you were panting in a way that drove him wild.
"We need to..." He tried to button up your shirt but sighed and gave up. Honestly, he wanted to do the opposite.
You laughed, fixing his messy hair. Jumping off the desk, helped straighten his collar. "There." You smiled up at him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "As much as I want to stay, we’d better hurry."
"I know, I know..." Steve grumbled as the car honked again. "Do you need to change?" he asked, adjusting his shirt and glancing at the waiting car.
"Nope, thank goodness for this," you said, grabbing your lab coat. "Or it would be too obvious." You covered yourself and smoothed out your clothes.
"Too obvious of what?" he teased. "You think they’ll suspect something?"
"Well... no." You quickly got ready and helped him by tugging the back of his shirt. "I doubt anyone expects us to show up together—they’ll just think it’s a coincidence."
"Tony knows. That’s why he sent the damn car." Steve scoffed, taking your hand as he led you outside, opening the door for you.
"In his defense, this meeting was set two weeks ago." You smiled, taking his hand once seated, fingers intertwined as you sighed contentedly. "I just forgot because I was... very distracted."
The car began moving, thankfully driverless and on autopilot, giving Steve the chance to take your hand again. The cool AC calmed both of you, letting you think more clearly. You tried to focus on the upcoming meeting, but it was impossible when he started kissing your fingers.
"He wants us to concentrate and send a car with no driver?" Steve grinned as the campus blurred by. “He is challenging my imagination.”
"Maybe no one wants to see what’s happening here," you whispered in his ear, as if anyone could hear. "Or we'd have to kill them afterward."
He laughed, finally relaxing, just holding your hand and gazing out the window.
You tried too, looking at the passing green grass and buildings, but your eyes kept drifting to him. And your mind is going wild. 
OMG what you’ve done, and what's happening here.
You and Steve had only met two days ago on the training field at midnight. Both of you were suffering from insomnia, and what began as a friendly, slightly naïve conversation to help each other sleep turned into the best night of your lives. 
And now... this.
Well, you weren’t sure what "this" was. 
After that night, he walked you to your room, kissed you goodnight, and probably went straight to read your file. 
Then, the next thing you knew, he showed up at your secluded lab and kissed you like there was no tomorrow.
Until your boss/friend Mr. Stark interrupted you from heading a home run all the way, by calling to remind you there were cameras everywhere and that PG-18 scenes should be saved for after hours or, better yet, off-campus. 
He also kindly reminded you that the meeting both of you were expected was in 20 minutes. And just in case you "got carried away and lost track of time," his words, he sent the car.
After a few seconds of silence, as you try to make sense of things, Steve suddenly realizes: "I don’t even remember what this meeting is about."
"It’s not a meeting. Technically, it’s a... how’d you call it? Hmm... an opening ceremony?" You repeat the words Tony used when he walked you through it. 
"Important people from important groups are coming to visit around, and to make peace after the Blip. They’re deploying their heavy hitters, so all our level 3s have to be there."
"And you’re... level... 2?" Steve asked, trying to recall. He had read your file but only focused on some key details of your past, not the present.
"I’m a level A," you chuckled at Steve’s 'is that even a thing?' expression and explained, "Just like Peter Parker. I have access to everything, as long as Tony wants me to."
"Oh... and... why do you need to be there?" Steve wanted to know more, but as the car approached the destination, he could see people walking toward the grand hall.
"Well, I’m not expected by the guests, but by Tony. And you know what they say: the most dangerous place is the safest. After all, I’m not exactly on their 'white list'..."
You saw his expression change, and he tightened his grip on your hand. "You shouldn’t be hiding. You didn’t do anything wrong."
"I didn’t?" You looked into his eyes, and he didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t had the time, or the courage, to read your full file. He was just following his instincts about you, his feelings, and his heart.
"But still, I don’t think they’re ready for 'this'." You gestured to your intertwined hands. 
"And this shouldn’t be the topic of today’s conversation. I think this event is more about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ kinda stuff…"
That made him laugh. He leaned his head back against the seat, muttering softly, "I wouldn’t care if they saw us."
"Eventually." You smiled at him. "And there’s something sexy about keeping it a secret, Captain." You sit in closer. "I like it." You blinked, motioning to the people passing by the car. 
"When they’re out there... and they don’t know... about this." Then you leaned forward to give him a kiss.
Steve’s body tensed at the touch of your lips, so you immediately pulled back, thinking you were pushing too far. 
"Yeah you are right, I’m sorry, they might have seen us..." You nervously glanced outside. "Although these windows..." and before you could finish, he grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed you deeply and fiercely, leaving you breathless.
"You’re right," he whispered, his voice low and ragged, as he bites your lower lip. "It is sexy. I love when you do things like this...it drives me crazy..."
“Oh…” your face was burning: “That’s settled then.” And you see the car is about to enter the parking lot arriving at its destination: “Can we do that again?”
Steve let out a loud chuckle before leaning over and kissed you gently: “Yes ma’am.” 
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To be honest, he doesn’t know what he is doing either.
As soon as Steves leaves you – You’ve finally decided to enter the compound separately, but not before he kissed you deep and hard in the elevator – His mind starts to clear. Senses are coming back to him.
As one of the greatest military tacticians in history, Steve acknowledges your past: a Hydra experiment, held captive your entire life until your escape and rescue; he knows you weren’t brainwashed, but borned and raised under Hydra’s control, and yes, he met you just two days ago.
His reasonable mind is making a lot of rational thinking as the military savant he is, and his strategies have always been like complex webs of logic, each thread delicately woven to ensure victory, while his enemies find themselves ensnared before they even realize it.
So yeah, he should be analyzing you, reading your file, investigating your past, predicting your moves—or at the very least, watching you closely to see if any remnants of Hydra remain.
But instead…
He can’t take his eyes off you.
You were steps ahead of him, and he felt like seeing you through those large professional lenses, where all the background is blurred in macro, drawing circles of light, and only your silhouette is sharpened.
You were smiling and nodding to people saying hi to you, a little bit shy, somehow oddly adorable... He was in awe. Some folks saluted you as if with…respect? He observed quietly. He even saw a lab guy saying to his teammate something like 'omg she said hi back to me'.
What's your superpower, Steve wondered. 
He’s sure he never noticed you before (how could he have missed you?), and he's certain you’ve never been on a mission together.
Suddenly, someone with a lab coat runs by your side, all excited as if they've drunk ten coffees in a row. 
"Dr. Lancaster, Dr. Lancaster? I figured it out..." He shows you an iPad, and Steve can see how everyone around you is pretending to be minding their own business but is actually listening to the conversation.
“…If we could modify the energy matrix in the arc reactor, we could potentially bypass the Coulomb barrier altogether…we can be talking about cold fusion without the magnetic confinement…!” The lab guy seems all over the clouds.
“Oh.” You look surprised yet shy, you sweep your hair back: “um…How do you plan on stabilizing the reaction without the electromagnetic field imploding?”
“I knew you’d get it!” The tech was so excited he nearly dropped his glasses: “What if we shift the reactor’s frequency to align with zero-point energy fluctuations?” He was jumping all over the place: “The Casimir effect could, theoretically, counterbalance the repulsion long enough to initiate fusion. No magnetic field required!”
“You wanna um…tapping into the vacuum energy of the quantum field to power the reaction?” You look amazed but concerned: “I mean, sure, theory holds, but the amount of energy you’d need to harness would be… astronomical. How do you prevent runaway entropy?”
“If you can artificially create a gravitational lens, focus the zero-point fluctuations and keep them from destabilizing. That’s how I did it.” A voice chimes in from behind. 
Tony, hands in his fancy suit pockets, shrugs and taps his watch. "Five minutes everyone, or you'll miss the warm-up act."
When everyone hears the big boss, they start walking faster toward the compound. 
Tony glances at you and the lab tech. “Test that theory using vibranium as the containment medium. It can store large amounts of kinetic energy without degrading, so you won’t vaporize this whole place. The first prototype is broken and used, so…we can get another one. And honey…” He turns to you and, with a glance at Steve, sighs in irritation. “Ugh... forget it.”
Tony walks past Steve and whispers as they head inside, "Ten minutes late. That’s a first."
“And worth every second,” Steve replies, giving you a final glance, smiling as he notices your blush.
“So... what’s her talent?” he asks once they’re a bit further away.“Being super smart?” 
It sounded sarcastic but he was super serious. Steve might’ve once thought being smart wasn’t a superpower, but after witnessing what Tony and Bruce can do, he now knows it’s one of the most powerful things of all.
“Yeah ‘smart’ is not even close, ‘brilliant’, or ‘magnificently intelligent’ would be the right words, and also…not that’s that important, but um…” Tony makes that typical ‘not a big deal’ face, trying to play it off.
“She…um…She possesses bio-synthetic ocular emitters that generate and manipulate high-frequency electromagnetic radiation across a variable spectrum, allowing her to penetrate solid matter and perceive stratified atomic structures and molecular compositions in real-time, facilitated by a neuro-integrated quantum processing cortex that reconstructs layered 3D imaging at the subatomic level with unparalleled precision."
Tony winks at Steve. And then rolls his eyes and says: “She’s got some kinda X-ray vision that lets her see the layers and components of things.”
“Couldn’t you just say that…”
They walk past the people and head backstage, where the team and a bunch of other people are waiting. Steve knows they won't be able to continue the conversation due to all the smart chat they'll need to do with these VIPs, so he stops before entering the room.
He needs to ask the most important question.
“Why did you keep her? Nat said you went through hell to keep her out of the feds' reach. Why?”
Tony raises an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smirk. Oh, Rogers, you’re falling hard, huh? He blinks at Steve. 
“Do you want me to be brutally honest?”
“Don’t I always?”
Iron Man started counting: “First, I genuinely think that someone with those powers would be highly prejudicial and harmful if she is on any side but ours. Second, I like her, well, not in the same way you like 'like' her...…but she is good, she is…” He tries to find a word: “Selfless. That makes me nuts, cause when you have no human ambition, what you gonna do to be a keeper, right?  Aaaand third, she asked. So...”
He shrugged his shoulders and started thinking aloud and spoke quickly as Tony always does. “You know what? This is perfect, yeah, so…I’ve struggled…no, never mind, this is perfect. Yeah ok, we gotta go…” 
He tilts his head toward Pepper, who’s staring at him. “Before I get locked out tonight.”
Steve has a hundred more questions, but when he sees Maria giving him the same look Pepper is giving Tony, along with all those important suits waiting, he gives in. “Yeah... right. The heavy hitters.”
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The "heavy hitters" weren’t just important people from important organizations. 
There was the Secretary of Defense, a bunch of senators, generals and colonels from the U.S. Army, the National Security Advisor—whatever the title is—Wakandan generals, CIA directors and their agents, and a whole lot of U.S. soldiers.
Steve was impressed, not by their presence, but because he had completely forgotten this event was on the agenda. And the reason for that? You.
Yeah the whole speeches, panels, interactions were just as you said, about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ blah blah blah, Steve wasn’t even listening. Who gives a damn.
His thoughts were elsewhere.
He was focused on you, and his mind was a mess.
So you can see through solid objects, huh? Does that work on people too? Do you see him as a walking skeleton? Is your power what makes you so smart, or were you always brilliant and Hydra just added the ability? Are you free tonight? What did you mean when you asked if he “considered taking this thing further”? Further to where? To like a date, or further as…forever?  Is that a love bite on your neck? Did he do that? God, you look stunning with your hair like that...
“If your gaze were a lightsaber, that poor girl would be ashes by now,” Natasha whispered as she leaned over to Steve. “Would you stop? It’s really weird.”
Steve chuckled, trying to put on a serious face, but he couldn’t help himself. He glanced at the speaker on stage, doing his best to focus.
It was a struggle, though. From what he knew about you, you came across as socially naive, unworldly even, with a deep trust in others. He was tempted but didn’t want to do anything that might feel like he was taking advantage of your vulnerability.
But…he’s doing it again, staring at you from afar, you look so adorable, damn it. Your hair is still a little messy, standing in the crowd and biting your thumbnail like a bored student waiting for the bell to ring.
You caught his stare, your eyes flicking up, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at you. He mouthed a ‘I miss you’, and your heart raced so fast you dropped your phone. Someone passing by picked it up for you, and you probably mumbled something like “'ank you” cheeks blazing so red you couldn’t even make eye contact or finish the sentence.
Steve forced himself to look away, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face. His expression must have been strange because even the speaker started to turn red. 
Natasha nudged him with an elbow, and they both smiled at the poor guy, who was now panicking under the combined stares of Captain America and Black Widow.
“Hey…” Steve overheard a voice behind him.
“Do you know who that girl is?” The guy who picked your phone up—some military man—was talking to his teammate, he was several rows behind and talking low but Steve could hear it anyway.
“Who? Where?” his companion asked.
“That one, I just picked up her phone. There…in the second row.”
“Oh! That one? That’s…” The team mate teased: “…someone completely out of your league.”
“Shut up.” The guy chuckled: “I’m gonna give it a try anyway. I’ll ask for her number. Damn that’s the most beautiful girl I’ve seen.”
Ok. Steve clenched his jaw. Fuck chivalry. He was done worrying about your social skills. Maybe it was time to take your advice and take things further. Or he could have Jarvis or Friday change your number...
“I bet you don’t get it.” A third voice joined the conversation. "Hoskins is right, Walker. She’s out of your league."
Did he just said, Walker? Steve’s eyes widened as his fists tightened.
“Yeah John, first round you don’t get it.”
“Well…” John laughs, “Guess you’ll be buying two rounds for me and my date tonight.”
In your fucking dreams, Walker. Stay the fuck away from my girl. Steve pulled out his phone. Not even thinking about how you’d gone from "who is she?" and "what are her powers?" to "my girl."
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A message from an unknown sender just popped up on your screen.
"What are you doing tonight?"
You frowned. Who is this?
You usually don't give your number to others. Mainly because you don't actually know your number (you don't have enough social events to bother remembering it). Plus, it’s in the public records for investigation departments, in case someone from work needs it. Cause who else would need it?
You glanced around. A few colleagues were watching you, but none gave any obvious signs of being the sender. 
Just in case, you replied: "Testing in the lab." The task Tony had given you earlier sounded promising, and you’re eager to give it a try.
"Can I join you?" The reply comes almost instantly. Must be Dr. Lin then—it’s his discovery, after all. Makes sense.
"Sure." you reply.
"Anything you’d prefer for dinner?"
Oh. No, wait. Now you're uncertain. When was the last time Dr. Lin had anything but organic food? The guy counts calories in every meal since you’ve known him.
"Who is this?"
Steve let out a loud laugh, and everyone stared at him, especially the speaker on stage, who was in the middle of a serious and tragic speech and was going through the emotional part.
"Stop it." Natasha shook her head, warning him in a whisper while smiling at the speaker. "Just stop it."
Tony rolled his eyes in the front row. Ugh, lovefools.
But Steve couldn’t stop laughing, and he didn’t stop messaging you.
"I’m your date, if you’ll have me."
"Oh. Mike? Sorry, I didn’t have your number."
His laugh stopped.
"Just kidding, Cap. I’ll have whatever you want ;)"
Oh damn, you got him. His heart leaped back into place. Steve looked up and spotted you, blushing as you put your phone away. He felt like giving a big smile but held back—for the poor speaker’s sake, who had already been tortured enough.
"A date it is." he replied. He considered adding an emoji, but nope—he didn’t know how that worked.
So, "whatever you want", huh? What should he bring? Did you mention anything about your preferences the night you met? Italian? Chinese? Thai? Japanese?
"Is there..." he asked Nat, his voice low enough only she could hear, "any good takeout within five minutes?"
Natasha was about to answer when her phone buzzed with a message from Tony: "Tell Rogers to knock it off." 
So they both put on their best serious faces and listened to the rest of the speech. Luckily, it was short, and Steve applauded harder than he should, just to make up for his weird behavior throughout.
"If you go straight to her." Once the whole thing was over, Natasha said softly in a voice only he could hear, "it’ll be too obvious. And Tony and Rhodey will shoot lasers from their eyes to your ass, stay put, this is important."
"I know." Steve smiled, shook hands with some senator, and stuck around for a bit of small talk, though his attention was elsewhere. 
He spotted John Walker approaching you. So moving without drawing attention, Steve shifted the group he was with closer to you.
He hated to admit it, but John Walker? The guy was fine. In that military uniform, with all those badges, he could probably charm any girl—if this wasn’t a hall full of superheroes. Steve listened carefully through the room’s noise, trying to catch your conversation.
Of course, you had no idea.
You didn’t know someone was nearby, standing and staring at you. You were too busy smiling at your phone like an idiot.
"Excuse me. What?" you asked when this guy repeated himself. The hall was full of chatter, so you had to get closer to hear.
"John Walker, ma’am." He flashed a bright smile, but you weren’t looking.
"Oh." You recognized him as the guy who picked up your phone earlier, and a blush crept onto your face as you recalled how clumsy you’d been, dropping your phone because Steve had smiled at you. 
"Oh... yeah, um, I’m Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster. Thank you for that... Captain?" You weren’t sure about his rank, guessing based on the uniform.
"Nice to meet you, Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster." He widened his smile, mistaking your blush for something else, and shook your hand. "Well... since I rescued your phone, any chance I could get your number?"
"Aw!" Steve’s hand suddenly clamped down on some poor guy’s during a handshake. "Quite a grip you’ve got there, Cap."
 "I beg your pardon." Steve forced a smile through clenched teeth, still listening to your conversation.
"Oh..." Now you were blushing for real. "Um..." You were trying to figure out how to get out of this awkward situation. 
Not only because you didn’t know your number, but also because you didn’t want to give it to Captain Walker. 
You thought fast and came up with the first lame excuse that popped into your head.
"I can’t. " 
You look at him with your most innocent and serious face. You sound so sincere and genuine.
"It’s confidential."
Steve let out a burst of laughter. That’s my girl. The senator in front of him—yes, the same one he had been teasing through the whole event—went pale. He was telling another moving story about his experience during the Blip when Captain America giggled. 
Tony threw an arm around Steve’s neck and mumbled in a warning tone: "What. Is. Wrong. With. You?"
"I’m so sorry." Steve hurried after the poor man, trying to keep a straight face. "Come on, Senator Kingsley...I’m sorry…" 
As soon as John Walker’s attention shifted to Steve, you took a step back and mumbled something like, "Um... Nice to meet you, Captain Walker. Gotta go."
"Yeah, what? Yeah, sure..." Walker turned around, but you were long gone before he could come up with a smart reply.
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Of course, you had to go—you had a date.
Two hours later, the idea was still circling in your mind. But...
"What am I wearing?" you suddenly blurted out.
"...What?" Dr. Lin looked at you, confused. "Now? A white coat…" 
He was just in a very inspirational speech about the theory of a quantum anchor to handle subatomic fluctuations when you interrupted with that.
You thought for a second, then decided you didn’t give a shit about the possibility of opening a wormhole that could deviate spatial-temporal coordinates or create a cascading paradox that unravels dimensions as you know them. You cared more about the upcoming date.
It was not just a date, it was the date.
So you took a deep breath, looked at your colleague seriously, and said, "I have a date, Dr. Lin. And I don’t know what to wear because I’ve never had one."
"Oh..." Dr. Lin looked you over. "That’s not a surprise, Dr. Lancaster." He whispered something like, "We should have known... you live and breathe only in this lab... just like your plants."
"I don’t have... anything." You spread your hands. "He’s coming to my lab in a few hours... should I...?" burn all my clothes and buy new ones? No way you’d make it in time.
"Well." He gave you a ‘what are you gonna do’ face and circled you. "Mm... not much we can do, actually. Here, lift your hair. No, not all of it, leave some strands. Yes..." He took off your glasses. "Do you have lipstick? No?! You don’t? Girl... GOD. Um... okay."
He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a chapstick. "Here. This is cherry. I don’t know... um... oh, and this!" He handed you a bottle. "Put this on."
"What is this?" You opened the tube, sniffing it. "Perfume?"
"Better. This, Dr. Lancaster, is the Felix Felicis of perfumes."
"Like... in Harry Potter?"
"Theoretically, this is a chemical liquid compound that exhibits adaptive olfactory reactivity, dynamically modulating its molecular structure upon detecting neurochemical feedback from the subject's sensory receptors, thereby... transforming into the individual's most psychologically favored aromatic profile." He grinned like a proud scientist.
"So, it’s a magic liquid that becomes your favorite scent when you smell it?"
"Not favorite, Dr. Lancaster. The most arousing smell." Dr. Lin’s eyes lit up as he introduced his invention. 
"Girl, put this on, I guarantee, he’ll be all over you. And call me Robert, I beg you.”
"Is that..." You raised an eyebrow. "Is that even legal?" And this was Steve you were talking about—the guy had senses times four.
"Oh come on, just use one drop." Dr. Lin dabbed a bit on his finger and tapped it on your neck. "There. I don’t think he’ll even notice, but just in case..."
"Oh. Okay." You still didn’t know what to expect.
"Look, I’ll leave you to it then." Dr. Lin—no, Robert—gathered his things. "Enough testing for today. And you’re gonna tell me all about it on Monday, okay? Oh, and Dr. Lancaster..." 
He glanced around your lab. "This is perfect. Private, secluded... just make sure to put away all the explosive liquids you have around... ok? See ya!"
“Oh.” You glance around too. Yeah, that’s a great point, you nod as you wave goodbye to a very excited Dr. Lin, still not having a clue what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what you do best: you work.
You do a little bit of cleaning, organizing; the place looks amazing, at least from your point of view, and since you had time, you start another round of testing.
You don’t even notice when Steve walks in, with the sunset sky behind him and the first stars rising in the north. He’s carrying a basket, and his breath is taken away by the sight of you standing at your workbench, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun, turning the whole room into a glowing, serene golden rose.
He stands there for a while, just watching, taking it all in.
“Cap, are you coming in anytime soon?” you ask, adjusting the metal pieces of the robotic arm. 
“I’m really hungry and tired of pretending I’m so cool with robotics here.”
Steve laughs and sets the basket on the table before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your hair. “Hey.”
You inhale deeply, finally letting go of the breath you’d been holding since you heard his footsteps. 
“Well, that’s not gonna do.” You smile and give him a proper kiss on the lips. “Yeah, now I’m recharged.”
Steve grins, holding you tighter as he kisses you back. “Yeah, me too.” He deepens the kiss. “God… you smell so good.”
Oh wow. You open your eyes as you return the kiss. Did Dr. Lin’s magic elixir really work this fast?
Well, then there’s a good chance this could go further, right?
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Of course he’s taking it further.
Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him. 
Maybe it’s because he’s been thinking about you all day. Maybe it’s because he was so mad and determined to be with you after that punk tried to make a move on you. Or maybe it’s just you—you have this unknown thing that drives him wild.
It's the way you move, the way you smile or talk or breathe or just… exist, that makes him unreasonably and madly… in love.
You finish dinner (a unanimously voted menu by the whole team—who knew the Avengers were so bored?), and are just starting on the cold white wine when he tries to wipe some ice cream from your lips. The next thing you know… you’re all over the couch.
Well, you started it, you think as he hovers over you. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have bitten his thumb when he was caressing your lips, or maybe you shouldn’t have breathed so heavily while he was kissing you and roaming over your body. Maybe you shouldn’t have whispered his name like that… but oh god, who cares? It feels so good.
“We should…” Stop. Steve tries to pull out his rational side, but his hands are far too busy running down your side, lingering on your hip.
“Go to bed?” You’re panting and shivering, your hands on his neck and his back, trying to pull him closer. “There’s, um… a bedroom right at the back, and… it has a beautiful garden view.” As if that mattered now at all.
Steve lets out a soft chuckle, resting his head on your neck. Then, after a pause, he lifts himself slightly, creating some space between you two.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… there’s no coming back from that. Are you…” He gasps, caressing your face. “And if we don’t do anything, it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
“And…” You sit up straight, looking at him, intrigued. “How… how do you feel about me?”
“It feels...” He thinks for a moment, intertwining your fingers with his and giving you a soft smile.
“Correct. Right. Complete.” He kisses your fingers, then looks up at you. “You make me feel complete.” He paused: “And you?”
You stay there for a moment in silence, glancing at him.
“Like…”
You try to describe it with nice words but you can’t.
“It's like my heart is so full, I can’t take it anymore…” You inhale as if you're feeling it right now and smile. “Like all the stars have fallen to one place and are shining too brightly.”
There's a moment of quiet before Steve speaks, his voice soft, like making a wish.
“I wish I’d found you sooner. I wish… I could’ve spent all the years I’ve been here with you.”
“This is perfect.” You kiss him with a smile, gentle and devoted. 
“Everything is perfect.”
He smiles and kisses you back, gently cupping your face in his hands, his touch filled with tenderness and love. But as the kiss deepens, Steve feels like he's burning. 
Everything about you is a vortex of sensations: his mind fuzzy, your warm body in his arms, your hair smelling of white roses, your sweet breath, your lips, and your tongue. He pulls you closer, one hand sliding down to rest on your hip, rougher than before, his lips moving more insistently. He doesn’t want to stop; he needs to feel more of you.
“If you’re not stopping…” He hesitates. “I don’t think I can …”
“I don’t want you to.” You sit on his lap, holding him close, fingers in his hair, whispering.
Steve lets out a shaky exhale, his voice a little rougher than usual, his gaze locked onto you like a lifeline.
“Are you sure?”
“…Steve…” Your voice is almost a plea. “Please don’t make me beg…”
And that does it.
Steve lets your request override any other thought. His tongue explores your mouth, hungrily claiming it as his own. One hand grips your hip, pulling your body flush against his. His mind is a mess, tangled with desire and excitement, everything around him melting away except for you. He leans into you more, guiding you back until your hips hit the nearest wall, pinning you there.
“Where's the bed?” he whispers in your ear. You stretch out your arm and point in the right direction.
“Hold on tight.” He smiles as he carries you to the room at the back and can’t help but awe when he arrives.
“Oh, so it was true. It has an amazing view.” He admires the floor-to-ceiling window with the garden in full bloom outside, bathed in a violet and blue sunset.
You laugh between the pillows. “Would you mind… saving that for later?”
Steve chuckles as he comes back to your lips and your arms: “I’m sorry…” his fingers follows the line of your body, pressing one in your waist and the other interlocking with yours: “I promise nothing will distract me from you now…” 
He was feeling the surge of his powers –  everything was enhanced: the scent of you on the bed sheets, the shivers running through your skin at his touch, the way your hair brushed against him, and the intoxicating sound of your voice…his body was reacting accordingly, and it was impossible to hold back. 
Especially when you kicked off your clothes and he could feel the whole of you: your skin silky and warm, the jasmine scent from your bath lingering. He was utterly lost in lust.
He feels his heart racing, his breath coming in short gasps, his hands guiding you with slow, deliberate movements, trying to hold onto some control despite the intensity of his desire. 
He interlocks your hand with his, while the other holds your face. He can’t look away from your gaze as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, sparking a wildfire of need within him. He whispers your name against your lips, his voice thick with hunger and longing.
“I don’t think I can’t hold back any longer…”
You gasp, drowning in a whirlwind of emotion: “Please don’t hold back…anything...” And you feel him to complete you, his fingers entwined with yours, murmuring something before sealing you with a kiss.
The moment he was in you was overwhelming, but you wouldn't recall the pain.
You were filled with sensations, having his lips in your ears, the fierce pressure of his fingers interlaced with yours, his body as close to yours as it could possibly be. Every centimeter of your being was united with his, melting into his warmth.
You felt him everywhere. In the intense gaze he held as he moved in a pace to match your pleasure, in his low moans and groans,in the droplets of sweat falling from his body onto yours, in his shivers and trembling, in the way he pressed his hand in your waist and marked every movement as he was lost in lust.
“God…” 
Oh no, Steve was not lost, he was drunk in a haze of pleasure and need. 
He had this urge of possession, hunger of dominance, mixed with the overwhelming and insatiable need of you.
He looks at you. Your watery eyes glistening with pleasure and desire, your moaning lips, red and swollen, naked body covered by a thin sweat and marks he left in your collarbone, in your shoulders and breasts, you dig your fingers into his skin, the sounds of your moans filling his ears and driving him even wilder.
“Please don’t stop…” 
God that begging tone of yours, he just can’t take it, he needs more.
“Steve…” You whispered again, your hands cupping his face. His breath mingled with yours as he leaned in closer: “please…don't stop…”
Steve moaned, his brain short-circuiting momentarily at your words, the sound of your voice begging it drives him wild with need and desire. 
He tightens his grip on your hips, his movements becoming rougher and rougher as you beg for him and you are lost in his fastened paces, and he knows you are close, the moans that’re leaving your lips driving him mad.
“Babe you are driving me insane…” He can't hold back his low growl as you whisper in his ear, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he pushes you harder, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as he gives you what you ask for, pulling you closer and closer, and he can’t help to moan as he looks at you reaching your climax: “Yeah baby that’s it…I got you…” 
You gave in as he kissed you and the bed knocked so hard against the wall, Steve’s senses are coming to an edge too as you finally reach the limit, your moan is the most perfect and most pleasing thing he’s ever heard. 
He murmurs your name on the verge of losing control, so you press your whole body to him as helping to be there, Steve’s mind suddenly goes blank as the pleasure takes over, every sense, every nerve ending consumed by ecstasy. 
He cums long and warm inside you, and that alone makes you feel you could come all over again. 
His words strangled groans of pleasure. He looks down at you, completely at your mercy, eyes hazy, filled with pure, unadulterated ecstasy as he tries to speak, but you seal his words with a deep kiss. 
“That was…” His breaths came in hard and fast: “That felt…”
“Complete.” You finish the sentence for him.
Complete. He used the right word. That’s how you felt. 
He laughs and falls on top of you, cupping your face and kissing your chin, removing stands of sweaty hair from your face. 
His chest is rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, his body still quivering from the intensity of the orgasm. 
" I... I've never experienced anything like that…You were incredible…You're incredible…"
You were panting too. But you were also reacting over his kisses.
Oh damn, Dr. Lin’s felix felicis worked just fine.
“So…um…” You couldn’t catch your breath: “You do have…Saturdays off, right? Does…the Avengers get that? Weekends?”
“What?” He was already laughing when you asked, but still nodded: “Yeah I have time…”
“And…how fast does your serum work? Do you need to like…some hours to recover?” 
“What?” Steve can't help but let out a laugh at your question. You marvelous, adorable, perfect girl. You are the woman of his dreams. 
He leans in to kiss you. Yes, complete. That’s definitely the word. He had never felt this way with anyone before, but when he was with you, everything seemed to align, as if the universe had conspired to bring you both to this moment, to this connection. He felt like a lost star in the universe finally finding its way home.
“Hours?” He kisses your neck and starts to go down: “babe…you might be a genius...but I really need to show you how this serum works for me…hours? Please don’t underestimate me…” 
His hands starting to caress your body, cupping your breasts and leaving a trace of kisses, feeling you reacting at the same time that he was getting hard again, still inside of you. 
You let out a soft, deep moan, your body responding instantly to his touch, your eyes lost in lust again.
“Steve…” 
He loves that begging moan, he was so ready to hear it again. And he was going to make you to do that all night long. 
“The night is young.” He positions his hands in your waist, holding you tight, as he presses himself again inside of you, harder than the first time, his eyes locked on yours as he speaks: “And I’m glad for it.”
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“Dr. Lin? um…Robert?” You knocked your colleague’s lab door on Monday, with a gift basket and a bottle of wine.
“Heeeeyyyy…” He was so happy to see you, Dr. Lin just turned around from his chair with a curious smirk: “Soooo? How was it? The mysterious date? I can tell you are satisfied…” he was practically singing. 
“Well…” You blushed slightly. 
The “date” has lasted the entire weekend. 
For the first time in your life, you were thankful for the body Hydra had given you, enough to endure and enjoy a weekend of endless lovemaking. 
You think you lost count of your orgasms by Saturday afternoon. But then of course, Sunday was also off, even for the Avengers. So you carried on. 
“Ahem…!” You cleared your throat, offering him the basket with the wine. “I’m just saying the Felix Felicis worked... as expected, even with just a drop.”
“Oh.” Robert's expression shifted. “Oh my gawd, I’m going to hell for this... Honey?” 
He patted your hand as he took off his glasses. “There’s no such thing as Felix Felicis…”
“What?”
“Yeah I lied…It was just a joke.” He made a ‘Sorry, not sorry’ face: “It was just perfumed alcohol.”
“Oh.” You were surprised. “Um... still... that’s just...” 
Wonderful. You couldn’t help but smile, handing him the basket anyway. 
“Thank you so much, Dr. Lin— I mean, Robert. Really, thank you.”
“Ohhh…you’re blushing,” Dr. Lin winks at you. “You look like someone who just discovered the meaning of life.” By going out of that lab and finally having human contact, and not dying there like a potus, he thinks to himself.
You grinned. “Maybe I did.”
“Well, whatever it was, keep that glow. It’s contagious,” he said with a wink before turning around and continuing his work.
“I’ll try my best.” You nodded, smiled at him, and headed back to your lab. You were in the hallway when you received a message from Steve.
“Miss you already,” with a heart emoji.
You sighed and smiled. 
Maybe it wasn’t Felix Felicis, but magic did exist—and it was real every time Steve looked at you like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered.
End but TBD
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Yay! That's a wrap on Chapter 3! ❤️ Thank you for reading so far. I apologize if my English isn't perfect; it's not my first (or even second) language.
I hope I got through the intensity and love that was intended. (At least at their first time, should be more about making love than fucking? If that makes sense...?)
Anyway, don't know where to place the timeline, but definitely is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive, aaaand the fact that John is here with Steve in the same place, makes it more interesting :3 (I just love writing jelous Steve)
Hope you liked it! Every feedback is highly appreciated <3
Love.,
Moon.
P.S: Chapter names are all related to dream states ;) I'm posting something every friday :) So see you next friday!!!
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lexirosewrites · 9 hours
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so i was driving to work the other day, taking the exact same route that i always take, and i passed a sign i see every single day. but for some reason, this particular day, i was hit so hard by a steddie thought that i instantly had to jot it down when i pulled into the parking lot of my job. i haven't stopped thinking about it actually, so i made it omegaverse and decided to send it in for slick sunday. this is VERY loosely based off something that happened in my own hometown a couple years ago. (also, for reference, the sign i saw was for a local business called munson construction, so the following thoughts make a lot of sense actually)
a!eddie and (possibly) b!wayne have a construction company. they don't a ton of business, but they make enough to pay the bills and put food on the table. they by no means live a life of luxury, but they're comfortable where they're at. plus, they enjoy what they do.
so, onto plot.
living in indiana, they don't get nearly as many tornadoes as some other states, but it does happen. one spring, hawkins gets hit hard. a lot of houses are completely leveled, even more are severely damaged. lives were lost. it absolutely devastates the entire community. so many families are homeless now. it doesn't take wayne and eddie long to decide that they're going to do whatever they can to help rebuild. they were fortunate enough to make it out on the other side generally unscathed. the worst they got was some damage from a tree falling on their roof, but it was a quick and easy fix for them. they know not everyone was so lucky. they want to do their part.
eddie doesn't expect it to change his entire life.
they start at the emergency refuge shelter. rows and rows of cots set up in the community center for those who either lost their homes completely, or have damages that make it inhabitable until repair. eddie is hardly one step in the door before he's drawn to a certain family. he elbows wayne and nods to the far side of the room. a baby is crying, being held and rocked by perhaps the prettiest omega eddie had ever seen. he needs to talk to him, even if it's only once.
as he and wayne approach, it becomes more and more obvious just how stressed the omega is. he rocks and bounces the child on his hip, desperately attempting to soothe. nothing seems to be working, though. the baby is still screaming, and people are staring. eddie's honestly feels really bad for the guy, who looks so overwhelmed and on the verge of tears. eddie can't just stand by and do nothing. he steps in, offering to help.
basically, from there, eddie learns that the omega (steve, duh) is a single parent who lost pretty much everything to the tornado. he and his daughter have been staying at the shelter, trying to figure out how he's going to get them back on their feet. obviously, eddie is in love instantly, and he is determined to take care of them in whatever way steve will let him. there's some back and forth probably, but eventually, steve also falls in love and they court and get married and blah blah blah happily ever after the end.
(a nice addition: post-marriage & mating, eddie builds steve a dream house by hand, where they grow their family and fill the home with love and support and all that good stuff)
ANYWAY, happy slick sunday :))
ahhhhh so cute!!!!🥺💕
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chippedshake · 2 days
Text
Ponyboy stands in front of the mirror, fifteen and one month old. His hair is longer than it used to be, and the still-blond tips brush his shoulders.
There are scissors in his hands.
"Glory, he looks different with his hair like that."
Ponyboy squeezes his eyes shut, hands gripping the sink for balance. The metal scissors clang against it.
"It used to look tuff. You and Soda had the coolest-lookin' hair in town."
He tries to imagine himself a year and a month ago. Squared off in the back, long at the front and sides. It looked real tuff.
He'd complained so much when he had to cut it off, making everything impossible for Johnny, and now he can't make himself bring it back to normal?
"Oh, come on, Ponyboy, it'll grow back."
It did. And now he doesn't know what to do with it.
"Oh shoot, it's just hair."
The front door slams open.
"Honey, I'm ho-ome!"
"I never shoulda showed you that," Steve grumbles
"Well, ya did, and now ya gotta deal with it." Ponyboy can hear the grin in Soda's voice.
Loud footsteps go into the kitchen.
"Hey, ain't Pony s'pposed to be home already?"
"Prolly is, just up in his room with a book. Wouldn’t notice a twister a foot away if he was reading."
Steve snorts. "You up for a game of cards?"
"Sure. I gotta go change first though."
"Ya mean you gotta go stick an ace in your shoe?"
"Somethin' like that."
Soda's voice trails away as he makes his way to his room, but Steve's has grown closer and closer, and Ponyboy knows he's going to see him and ask questions that he doesn't want to answer, but he can't move from where his hands still grip the sink, scissors trapped against it.
"Hey, kid." Ponyboy looks up and meets Steve's eyes through the mirror. He's standing in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, whole body tense with discomfort, his face drawn with the same worry that strings through his voice. "You want me to get Soda?"
Ponyboy shakes his head and tries to subtly wipe his eyes. It'd be a new low to cry in front of Steve.
Steve's eyes flicker from Ponyboy's face to the scissors in his hand and his ungreased hair. He grimaces when he notices the tears, like he's not sure what to do with them.
"You know, cutting it off don't mean you'll forget them. You've still got a lotta memories that ain't in your hair. Better ones, too."
Steve's tone is matter-of-fact, but soft, softer than it's ever been. To Ponyboy, at least.
Like how Dally's voice reached a high, pleading tone it'd never reached before when they were speeding down that dirt road.
"I know..." Ponyboy whispers, and Steve leans in to hear him better. "It's just the last thing I got from them."
"That ain't true," Steve says. "You got both of their jackets and that book y'all read in the church. You even got the pictures you drew of them."
"Yeah, I know. It just ain't the same." His voice still won't come out above a whisper, but Steve seems to hear him just fine.
"Shoot, kid, I know that." He steps forward and sits down on the closed toilet seat. "But you can't live your life for them. They're gone. And they ain't comin' back. If you wanna remember 'em the right way, you gotta forget them sometimes."
Ponyboy thinks about the last year. About his bookmark that's been on page 118 for five months because Johnny would never get to read any pages after. About all the movie posters he's seen come and go because it wouldn’t be the same to watch them without Johnny. About the blade that's always in his back pocket that he can't stand to look at. About the time he brawled with Curly and then started crying because Dally had been the one to teach him how to throw a punch.
About how every time he looks in the goddamn mirror, he gets scared by his own reflection and remembers the church.
Maybe Steve's right. Maybe if he wants to start living normally again, he needs to forget them sometimes.
"This just ain't us. It's like being in a Hallowe'en costume we can't get out of."
Johnny might never get out of his costume, but Ponyboy could. And he would do it. For Johnny. Because he wouldn’t want Ponyboy to live as a shell of who he once was.
But when he meets his own eyes in the mirror, he knows he can't bring himself to do it.
"Steve, you ever cut hair before?"
He looks up in surprise, and for a moment Ponyboy's scared he's going to laugh at him. Then he stands up and holds his hand out for the scissors.
"Can't imagine it's harder'n fixin' up a car."
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fandomfluffandfuck · 3 days
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Okay okay. I just had this beautiful mental image of competence kink Steve. And my brain produced two fairly different images: Steve sees Bucky do something incredible during a mission. Idk what. And *oh*, he pops a boner right there and then, as much as the cup of his suit allows anyway. He can barely wait to get off the quinjet post mission, much to the team's amusement, to blow Bucky and then fuck into next week because holy shit hot
Or, Steve having an unfairly wet dream about WS!Bucky in the leather and incredible skills with all the knife tricks and so on and feeling very guilty about that. Because getting the horny from something Bucky had no control over? Not cool, at least in his mind. Bucks somehow gets him to spill though, and then ties Steve up and uses his knife skills to get him out of his clothes very efficiently, leaving Steve there as a panting and moaning mess Uh yeah my brain melted a little
For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.
Oh, fuck yeah, I love competency kink. We can certainly talk about that and soak in the brain melt together, lol
Besides, we all know that that fucker has one
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gifs by @/linusbenjamin
and this moment haunts him 😏 because of it.
Plus, that single shield catch isn't even to mention the million other examples I could think of for Steve's fixation on the Winter Soldier. The ghost is strutting around in what's practically fetish gear, like, c'mon, give Steve some slack. It's leather and straps and shimmering metal and decisive, confident combat. Motherfucker.
I am SO fucking down to think about Steve watching Bucky execute some incredible feat on a mission and getting turned on because of it, and I will expand on that in a minute. But, also, the second option, too. YES. Steve wet dreaming about the Winter Soldier? God, it's more than just likely, that shit absolutely happened.
(I did write something about those wet dreams in this ask answer under "war paint")
(Also, you need to see this art, that is... yup. Knives and bondage and competency.)
Okay, competency on missions driving Steve insane...
(warning for canon typical violence!)
It happens like this: one instant Steve is solely focused on strangling the underling that's freshly come at him 'cause he's just trying to get through the masses of them before he can actually disarm this whole fucking shitty, dangerous situation alongwith it's leader, and the next instant Steve is totally, completely, and entirely distracted from getting an arm around this fuckers throat, squeezing off his air between his forearm and bicep. It could not be farther from his mind, really.
Rather than thinking about how he can best discard this underling and move on to the next--always plotting his following move, what punch should he throw, what kick, where's his shield, how should he throw his shield, who's around him, and are they his teammates or this month's big enemy--he's aching, not thinking, aching to drop to his knees. It is a visceral, very unchill reaction that Steve can't fucking control. There is no way on god's green earth.
The wanting to drop like a fly isn't because he's tired and ready to give in and surrender, nah, he could do this all day, it's because he's at fucking full mast in his uniform pants so suddenly that he needs a goddamn break from himself. His own hyperreactive body. It's dizzying, debilitating, how his blood rushes from circulating oxygen as fast as it can to his bulging, burning, working muscles to pooling heavy and hot in his cock.
All that hot, thick blood filling his dick out as he moves and twists, grappling with his fucking random ass bad guy, and threatening, incidentally, to rub himself salaciously against the hard pressure of his athletic cup.
His cup is cupping him.
He's big, he can't not. He's got no fucking room. It's... yeah, it's, just--
Jesus Christ.
Steve's aching to drop to his knees and more. It doesn't stop at getting to his knees. One moment and he has the worst kind of desperate craving crashing through him, leaving him hankering for the sensation of firm, muscular legs squeezing around his throat, the pressure tight on both sides, making him feel like his head might explode as he gasps for air or he might pass out without any air or he might cum from pure fucking lust at how hot it is or all of the above all at once.
All at once.
It is an onslaught of arousal. Just. His appetency is un-fucking-checked for the tingling, sharp burn of fingers raking through his hair and pulling hard until he feels it in his scalp and skittering down his back, richly feeding the fire at the base of his spine. He needs to feel body heat suffocatingly around his neck and shoved up against him from behind. Heat painted like thick, sticky tar up the nape of his neck to the crown of his head.
And all that weakening fucking hunger is inspired by one instant. A single flash that he catches, lightning-fast, out of the corner of his eye.
Dark leather molded to fit a shapely body perfectly, sinfully, waves of hair flowing like water, and the distinct glint of silver metal caught in the sun, flashy and, just, sexy.
Bucky.
Bucky, who's barely just been able to be comfortable in combat again after deprogramming but is ever-skilled. Honed. Deadly and gorgeous as a honey trap.
Bucky, who has spent more hours in the gym training with Natasha than anyone else combined--something about mutual trauma and understanding and trust.
Bucky in elegant, lethal motion, wrapping himself like a lithe snake around his own steroid-fit underling, his burly thighs squeezed around the baddies thick, muscular throat, his veins bulging in strain, balanced perfectly on his broad shoulders, and keeping the power in his own mismatched hands. The palm of his hands, like it's easy.
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Bucky is fucking winning, it's plain to see. No sweat.
Bucky has shocked this baddie by mounting him, throwing his weight around with ease in a way that shouldn't be possible for a man his size. Better, Bucky has thrown him even further off, fisting a hand into his hair cruelly, pulling so hard that his choices are to let his hair be ripped out and deal with the gritting pain or follow the hold and put himself in worse danger, prolonging the time before the pain. The unnamed baddie follows, of course. Anyone would follow someone as intoxicating and beautiful as Bucky. But he's then pinned there, throat fully exposed. Perilous. The most animal form of submission, this time forced and humiliated by defeat.
Bucky is the dominant fighter.
He is in control.
And he is making it known with what would be sickening glee if Steve was anyone but himself--if Steve wasn't so fucking aroused by watching Bucky wield himself as a weapon of his own choosing, taking control, and reveling in doing good.
God.
With his thighs around his neck, Bucky deftly plucks a long, sharp knife from its holster strapped onto his mouth-watering thigh and twists and twirls it around his fingers before holding it against the underling's throat. The threat is crystal clear and needs no further explanation: move and its lights out for you.
So, the underling folding to his mercy, Bucky slowly, slowly contorts his body, displaying his oh-so flexible spine and positioning his mouth right above his ear. Steve watches him whisper into his ear--his pink lips curling over the hushed syllables in the heat of chaotic, loud battle--and shivers.
Goosebumps come to attention all across Steve's body.
Shit.
He's unreal.
He's so gorgeous and so good and so charming.
At whatever he tells him, the baddie nods stiffly, all the color drained from his face, and Bucky retracts his knife unhurriedly, perfectly moving according to his own schedule, and confidently sheathes the blade it once more. Then, neatly, he unclenches his thighs from around his throat and slithers off his shoulders. It's almost a dance--totally smooth, well-rehearsed choreography.
He defies gravity.
As soon as Bucky is far enough from him, peeled away, the underling scurries off like a frightened rat, stumbling as he sprints off. Bucky watches him go with an unhinged, almost-pitying smile, an expression just for himself, as if to say, that's right, you better run. Tell the others, too. You fuck with me and it's over. Don't bother coming back.
Steve whimpers.
Realistically, it--Bucky devastatingly executing one of Black Widow's signature flipping, twisting moves as if it's his own and something developed specifically for him, an over 200 lbs man of pure muscle and metal--all happens in the span of seconds. Or, maybe it happens faster. It may not even be a single second. But for Steve, it plays in slow motion; it lasts ages in his mind.
Still, really, just it's one instant, and then his brain chemistry has been fully altered. Immediately. His wires have been crossed over and shorted out. Sparks fly. And his reboot back to being a functioning fucking human comes in the form of a punch to the face.
Fuck.
Steve groans through the pain of a fist colliding with his face, wincing, and opening and shutting his jaw to have it crack back into place. He's gonna fucking feel that later. But, for now, he has to ignore the heavy, aching throb of his cock, the pain in his jaw, and get back to fighting.
Later, he tells himself.
Later, that'll be his treat for getting through this shit day. He can kneel and beg, forgetting himself as a drooling, heaving, out-of-breath, hot faced mess at Bucky's feet, fumbling over words as he incomprehensibly pleads to have his shapely thighs wrapped tight around his head, his neck, his waist even, anything. Just hold him there until he fucking dies a happy death between those legs.
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Heaven.
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navybrat817 · 1 day
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Any stripper AU info? 🥺
Well...
Steve will eat you out for hours. He'll feast if you let him. Soak his face. He loves that. You're still a quivering mess when he finally fucks you and draws more orgasms from you.
Bucky is all about that praise. Tells you how well you take him, what a good girl you are, how perfect your wet pussy feels. Loves to grip your chin and make you look at him when he showers you with that praise. Doesn't want you to hide from him, especially when you tip over the edge.
Ari has a size kink. He's one of the tallest, if not the tallest, strippers. Taller than you, stronger than you, and he's going to overpower you. And, yes, your eyes widen when you see the size of his cock. And, oh, does he know how to use it.
Hal loves fucking you in front of mirrors or anything that shows a reflection. Not to watch himself, but watch you. Any position he can get you in and still see your face when he gets you off makes him happy.
Curtis is going to bite you. Not hard enough for break your skin, but enough that you feel it. Your neck, your shoulder, you'll feel those teeth when you clench around him.
Clark seems reserved when he isn't performing, so it's a slight surprise that he's into bondage. He can't help himself. Something about you being restrained while he takes you apart drives him wild.
Jax is a bit of a wildcard as it depends on his mood, but you're guaranteed to be in for a good night no matter what. Rough, gentle, on your back or front, he's getting you off. And you love every second of it.
...I genuinely don't know if this is the info you wanted, but... Love and thanks! ❤️
And I need to give this AU a name.
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cynic-spirit · 3 days
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The Partner
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Steve and Bucky were meeting with a new partner, another mobster named Ivanov. They had just finished negotiations, and the atmosphere had shifted from tense business discussions to more relaxed, casual conversation. Ivanov leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face as he sipped his drink.
Just then, Yn entered the room. As always, she walked straight to Bucky, her presence commanding immediate attention. Without hesitation, she greeted him with a kiss, her lips brushing his with a tenderness that momentarily softened his usual stern expression.
Ivanov, watching the exchange with a curious gleam in his eye, leaned forward and made a comment, his tone dripping with amusement. "You know, she doesn't realize how powerful I am. A woman like that should know her place."
The room went silent, the casual conversation halting abruptly. The easy-going atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a palpable tension. Bucky's jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed with anger, but before he could respond, Yn's demeanor changed.
Bucky recognized the shift immediately. Her posture straightened, and her gaze sharpened. What he referred to as her "formidable" side had emerged.
Yn took a seat comfortably, her movements measured and deliberate. She crossed her legs, her calm and composed exterior belying the intensity that lay beneath. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to speak.
"Mr. Ivanov, I might not know much about power in the way you understand it, but I can tell a good story. Something from history that I find fascinating."
The room, already tense, grew even quieter. Everyone listened intently as Yn spoke.
"Let me tell you about Cesare Borgia, a man consumed by his quest for power. In the early 1500s, Cesare used his father, Pope Alexander VI’s influence to dominate Italy through cunning and brutality. He manipulated and eliminated rivals, consolidating his power without restraint."
Ivanov 's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing as he listened.
"However," Yn continued, "his obsession with power led to his downfall. When his father died, Cesare lost his key ally. The new pope opposed him, and his enemies rose against him. Stripped of his power, he was captured and died in obscurity."
Bucky watched Yn with a mix of admiration and awe. Her calm, measured tone and the intensity in her eyes made it clear she was not to be underestimated.
"Cesare's relentless pursuit of dominance blinded him to the need for stability and alliances," Yn said, her gaze unwavering. "In our own lives, we must use power responsibly, understanding that true strength lies in restraint and respect for others. By treating those around us with kindness and empathy, we can avoid the pitfalls of unchecked ambition."
Ivanov was speechless, his earlier bravado completely gone. The rest of the room was equally silent, everyone taken aback by Yn's unexpected but poignant lesson.
Bucky felt a surge of pride and a touch of amusement. He knew she had left a significant impression. He glanced around the room, seeing the stunned expressions on his associates' faces.
Yn removed her glasses with a measured, deliberate motion, placing them on the table. This simple act made the others exchange knowing glances, recognizing the shift in her demeanor.
"Power does not corrupt men," she added, her voice firm. "But only fools who keep displaying it, thus reducing the command it has."
The room seemed to shrink around Ivanov, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact with Yn. Her words had cut through his bravado, leaving him exposed.
The silence was thick with tension, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Yn's gaze never wavered, her presence commanding and authoritative.
Bucky could see the discomfort in Ivanov 's eyes, a stark contrast to the confidence he had shown earlier. It was clear that Yn had not only made her point but had done so in a way that left no room for argument.
The others, still processing what had just happened, felt a mixture of admiration and respect for Yn. Bucky's heart swelled with pride, knowing that she had, once again, shown her formidable intellect and strength.
Finally, Ivanov mumbled, "I see your point," though his voice lacked its earlier conviction. Yn simply nodded, her message delivered with precision and impact.
Yn's gaze remained steady, her voice smooth yet sharp. "I know you do. You seem like an intelligent man, not falling into the same trenches as Cesare Borgia did."
She took a moment to let her words sink in before continuing, "It was, however, nice to meet you."
With that, Yn walked calmly to the bar, where she poured herself a glass of water. Her demeanor was poised and composed, a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere in the room. The others remained silent, clearly taken aback by the gravity of her words and the ease with which she had dismantled Ivanov ’s bravado.
As she sipped her water, the room was filled with a palpable respect for Yn’s ability to handle the situation with such grace and authority. Bucky watched her with a mixture of admiration and deep affection, knowing that her strength and intellect were unmatched.
"Well said, doll," he thought to himself. "You certainly know how to make an impact."
Ivanov glanced at Bucky with a smirk and asked, “So she’s your girl?”
Bucky’s chest swelled with pride as he replied, “No, Ivanov , actually I am her man.”
The room erupted in light-hearted chuckles, the tension from earlier melting away. Bucky’s statement, delivered with genuine affection, softened the atmosphere and highlighted the deep respect he had for Yn. The others, amused and supportive, shared knowing smiles, appreciating the bond between Bucky and Yn
As Ivanov exited the room, the door closing behind him, Bucky could no longer contain the swell of pride and admiration he felt for Yn. Without a second thought, he pulled her close and sealed his feelings with a passionate kiss.
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l0stfoster · 2 days
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I would literally kill for everything abt cursed au paul. Like when does his redemption start, when and how do him and darry reconnect, does he ever open up abt his home life to darry or anyone else, how do the socs react to him getting close to darry (or the greasers for that matter by association) . I NEED EVERYTHINGGGGGG 🙏🙏🙏
I’m so glad someone likes him as much as I do I've had him on my brain for weeks OKAY YAP TIME!!
When does his redemption start
- Paul's redemption arc starts out preeetty slow and begins after his powers come to the surface again post-rumble, about 4-5 months later. It was being around such a large number of the cursed that flicked a trigger in his brain. He HAD his powers long before then and used them as a kid, but his mother tried to force him to forget about them with her own because she wanted this curse to die. - Dude has a panic attack when he discovers them because he's suddenly a part of this group of people he's hated ALL his life.. and then there's a very temporary god complex because he might have this curse but he's still a soc, he's not really one of those things, is he? He's still got superiority to them, so who cares if he's cursed as well.. and then his parents find out. - It's the same exact situation he had when he was a kid. His parents were already distant and abusive/neglectful but the magic just makes it worse. His mother tells him to his face that she wished she hadn't had him, and it's the first taste of just what the other cursed go through. He's obviously forced to hide his power from the public for the sake of their reputation, but it's how his own parents respond to this that makes him reflect.
When and how do he and Darry reconnect?
- Around a month after Paul discovers his powers, and it's purely an accident. They bump into each other in soc territory (Darry's birthday was coming up soon, and he wanted to visit an old cafe there he'd visit for nostalgia's sake, Paul was just trying to get out of the house for a while) and they're immediately beefing. Miraculously, though, they both had their sights on the same place and ended up directing inside, still bitching (in reality, neither of them could bring themselves to walk away). The poor workers had these two absolutely at each other's throats for hours. "I hate you and I wish you'd die" as Paul buys Darry's exact coffee order he memorized from years ago. "You're such an asshole." While Darry gives Paul the pieces of his muffin that he doesn't like but Paul enjoys. They leave with bitter wishes of hoping they never see each other again. - Weirdly enough, it keeps happening. This goes on regularly until it turns into making out in back alleys as a goodbye. When I said friends to enemies to enemies with benefits I meant it. They're practically dating but both have convinced themselves that it is casual and that they're just homies. This happens over like six months. Steve and Two find out during those months and kinda don't care, Pony and Dally are THE most offended by it. Soda and Ace are there like "I'm insulted but you're an adult, and you're not stupid, so I can't really tell you to stop?" - There's a lot more forced proximity when Paul gets kicked out and crashes at the Curtis' when sleeping in his car isn't viable.
Does he ever open up abt his home life to Darry or anyone else?
- Not willingly. There's the doodle where he gets drunk and yaps about it to Two and Dally, but that's the most he'd speak of it honestly for a long while. Darry definitely knows that the Holdens aren't exactly great people-- met them once during highschool & Paul's father is the police chief so he's already on thin ice. (yes I nabbed that from Born a Grease <3) - They meet again bc Paul needs to attend something related to the police department for reputation's sake (pre-kicked out) and Paul will only go if Darry's allowed to come. Darry gets another taste of how shitty they are there because they make a scene and Paul's powers are bought up and outed. Paul, defending Darry: "The curse doesn't make people a bad person-" Mr. Holden: "You're right, it makes them not people." Paul: "..Then what the hell does that make me?" Mrs. Holden, shouting: "It makes you wrong." - Paul will never really tell them straight up, but they can make assumptions pretty easily. He gets nightmares occasionally and gets pretty uncomfortable whenever the cops are mentioned due to his dad's relation to them. If he's drunk he'll shit-talk them, The dude's an alcoholic as a coping mechanism. I could see him maybe telling Darry, but it wouldn't be something he wanted to do. He thinks it makes him look pathetic. ( I made a what-if doodle where Paul's hair grows longer each time he overuses his power, and he has a fucking MELTDOWN when he looks in the mirror and sees his mom bc of the length. It's non canon, but it's silly to think about )
How do the socs react to him getting close to Darry (and the Greasers)?
- Paul's pretty much thrown into association with the greasers (and by proxy, all of the cursed) as eventually, word gets out that he was kicked out, alongside that he's cursed. He loses most of the soc friends he has, save for Cherry & Marcia due to their own associations (Randy wouldn't turn his back on him either, but for his own safety has to keep a distance publically.) - And since it's related, Paul and Cherry (maybe Marcia, but hers is 50/50 since she has no power) become free reign for getting jumped by other socs due to their powers & associations with the greasers. The girls target Cherry and vice versa for Paul, but we still haven't figured out how they do it without powers getting in the way. (Our running idea for Cherry is that her hands are bound so she can't spark & they butcher her hair so it can't either </3)
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findafight · 1 year
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Robin chose Steve. Robin made the conscious and deliberate decision that she could and would trust Steve. She already liked him! She had fun working and bantering with him! They were already on their way to being weird little bffs and the torture just expedited the process. Steve chose Robin just the same! He thinks she's fun and cool and likes her so much! He chose to be honest and open with her too, putting himself out there.
Even though their interests on the surface level don't match why wouldn't they share them? Steve clearly caves when Robin wants to watch a movie he doesn't think he'll like, Robin can watch a March madness game or five.
Stop trying to take away their bond oh my god people can be close to more than one person!!! Their best friend doesn't have to be dismissive or mean or whatever in order for a romance to be special to them!
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flowercrowngods · 7 months
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something so monstrous pt.2
(in which kas feeds from steve and triggers a bad migraine pt.2)
🤍🌷 read part 1 here this part gets really intense on the migraine. descriptions of immense pain, fever dreams, and vomiting, some body horror imagery bc pain can be fun like that
Time and space lose all meaning as Steve remains on the precipice of something that is too violent to be called sleep, but not harsh enough yet to be unconsciousness. Real sensations evade him as everything turns into pain immediately. Even the twitch of his finger becomes a thundering blaze of blinding pain shooting through his body and settling behind his eye until he is sure he will wake up blind. 
The fear of that is everpresent, the blind spots too real to ignore every time it goes like this, and he imagines how they will grow. He imagines how they get worse every time until one day the pain inside his skull will be so immense it will take his eyesight in exchange for alleviation.
And even though it is unbearable, he opens his eyes whenever he can, just to make sure he can see still. It’s an added veil of terror that covers him whole and consumes him slowly but continually. 
At some point he notices something cold and wet being placed over his eyes, adding another layer of darkness that is welcome, even if it leaves an imprint of pressure and sensation on his forehead that makes his skin tear around it, his skull cracking and caving in beneath the touch. 
And still it helps a little, pulling him further toward consciousness but not further toward the pain itself. But Steve can only whimper weakly in response, six feet under a thick cloud of cotton-filled smog that even turns breathing into a chore, polluting his lungs with fear and horror and agony without compare.
He does fall into a fitful sleep at some point, grateful for the short reprieve, but it does nothing to alleviate his exhaustion. 
It feels like his eyeballs are being pushed into his skull for what must be hours upon hours, and the pain is so unbearable, so horrible, that he's not at all surprised when nausea rises in his chest, his body responding to its current state with confusion and a hard-reset. 
Steve keens, trying to roll onto his side, groaning at the flares of pain shooting up into his skull and down into his limbs. They only worsen the nausea and it's pure instinct that gives him the strength to sit up. 
"Kas?” he whispers, swallowing thickly against another wave. "Bathroom?” 
Instead of giving him directions or pulling him up to drag him there, Kas wastes no time. He gets up off the floor, approaching him with shuffling steps once more, and gently but quickly lifts Steve off the bed in a hold — firm, yet gentle — that brings another sting of tears to Steve's eyes. Pain and vulnerability and the need for everything to be over. That’s what makes him cry.
Still he manages to hold on, his head rolling onto Kas's shoulder, the skin of his neck blissfully cool against Steve’s overheated forehead pressing into him. 
Make it stop, he thinks. Longs. Aches. It’s supposed to be over. It’s all supposed to be over now. 
He whimpers again, and imagines that Kas is the one to softly shush him this time.
The coolness of Kas's neck is gone all too soon as the vampire sets Steve on the hard, uncomfortable bathroom floor. He doesn't go far, though, crouching down beside him and holding him up over the toilet. Steve can't see anything, but still he’s grateful that Kas left the lights off, the bathroom tinged in the same darkness as his bedroom. 
Pathetically, Steve rests his forehead on the toilet seat, chasing the coldness of it as pain and nausea reach their peak. It’s disgusting, but be’s not strong enough to care. A whine breaks from him, and he wishes Kas would leave. Even though the cold hand on his neck feels good, and even though he knows he wouldn't be able to hold himself up right now. 
I'm not weak, he wants to say. And maybe he does. But he can't recognise his own voice right now. 
"Not weak, maybe, but pathetic." 
No. 
"You know you are." 
Shut up. Go away. 
It doesn't make sense for Mr Munson to suddenly be here with them, to stand in the doorway and watch his nephew, who is more monster than human these days, holding up the pathetic form of Steve, who is more pain than human. More smoke than human. More vulnerable weakness than remotely human.
Go away. Eddie? I want him to go away. Tell— Go ‘way. 
The hand wanders, pulling Steve against cool skin again so his forehead rests against the toilet no longer, basking in the cold touch and the warmth of a body to hold him. 
"Safe," Kas says, and Steve wants to badly to believe him. Wants Wayne to leave, wants everyone to leave and just let him suffer in silence and solitude like always. 
Wayne starts talking again, but Steve can't hear him this time as he suddenly heaves and retches, throwing up what little he had to eat today. Over and over and over.
It goes like this for a long time. He has no idea how long. Has no idea where he even is anymore. 
The world tilts a few times when he loses his grip, his arms buckling, his hands spasming and giving out, and still he never falls. Only ever feels the cold, damp skin of Kas’s neck. 
Kas has to carry him to bed when he's done and on the brink of passing out again, and Steve doesn’t mind this time. Kas also hands him a glass of water or two before pushing him back to lie down again. That’s nice. 
The wet cloth returns, and Steve isn't aware of his surroundings for much more after that.
—— 
The next time Steve comes to, he feels like he was freshly dragged through Lover’s Lake until his lungs gave out. His head is pulsing violently, his senses are sluggish and everything feels foggy. He has no idea where he is, the room pitch black around him as he lifts a lukewarm damp cloth from his eyes. 
A soft groan falls from his lips as he stretches his aching, cramped limbs, rubbing his hands over his face and regaining the feeling in his body. Little pinpricks of phantom pain shoot through him, his mouth tastes like ash and his head protests rather violently against his pathetic attempt at sitting up. 
He is disoriented and something about his vision is still messed up, something in the depths of the room not quite right and leaving him with a dizziness he can’t quite shake, followed by a wave of anxiety that something’s wrong with his eyes. 
He blinks. Blinks again, finding more things in the strange room as he does, his sluggish brain slowly catching up and filling in the blanks.
It all comes back to him like a tidal wave when he suddenly finds himself blinking at a pair of red eyes, softly glowing and wide open. 
“Kas,” he croaks, his throat absolutely parched. 
One second he’s wincing at that, the next he finds a cool glass of water pressed into his hands before the eyes and the shadowy form they belong to retreat to the foot of the bed again. 
 “Thanks,” he murmurs, stalling as he takes a sip. Embarrassment rises in him, but he doesn’t want to apologise. The thought of that somehow makes the vulnerability that much worse, so he tries to ignore it. It’ll all be fine if they simply not acknowledge it. 
He wants to ask for the time instead, wants to know how much the migraine took from him this time, but he knows Kas doesn’t really understand the concept of it all, let alone know the numbers. 
A silence settles between them and it’s somewhere between welcome and uncomfortable. Just like everything that happens in Hawkins. It makes Steve feel like a ghost again, but this time he’s a ghost in the room, not just in his own head. He’s the one who’s out of place.
With a little sigh, he places the glass on the makeshift nightstand again and falls over onto his side. His head is mad at him for it, still feeling too fragile for sudden movements, but lying down feels better than sitting.
There’s a huff from Kas that sounds more amused than derisive, so Steve looks at him. Looks at the shimmer in those eyes before closing his own again, not wanting to be looked at right now. Not wanting to face it.
“You,” Kas says then, his voice quiet and without the edge of that animalistic growl. The sound of someone who’s not meant to speak at all. The souvenir of someone who was human once before Evil grabbed him and modified him to His liking. 
“Me,” Steve says, an automatic response, just as quiet. He’s listening. 
“How… How are…” Kas struggles, huffing in frustration at the words that refuse to come, but still it’s the most coherent Steve has ever heard him. It makes him sit up half way again; leaning his weight on one arm to focus all his foggy and cloudy attention on the vampire trying to ask him how he is feeling. 
No more words come, though, the question half finished in the air between them. But somehow it makes Steve smile. Just a little bit. This feels important. And huge.
“My head hurts,” he answers truthfully, amused when Kas’s eyes snap back to his. To search them. To communicate something.
“Hurts?” 
“Yeah. It will, for a while. Always does. Nothing to do about it, really.” He wishes he felt as indifferent to it as he sounds, but that’s just the tiredness clouding his tone. It’s fast approaching now that he knows he’s relatively safe. Now that he knows he can rest. His arm gives out and he slides, slowly this time, back to lie on the pillow. “But it’s not as bad. And the other pain is gone, so…” 
So. He could go home now. He should, probably. Ignoring the weakness in his bones and the exhaustion in his every fiber. If he closed his eyes again right now, he could fall asleep. Still, maybe he should—
“Stay,” Kas says again, and Steve really should have figured. He’s not quite well enough to really fight him on that, though, so he shrugs. 
“Fine,” he mumbles into the pillow, halfway back to slumberland already. 
There’s movement on the foot of the bed, and before he knows it Kas has tucked him in again, draped across the pillows as he is. It’s still unreal, that, but Steve won’t complain. What’s even more unreal, though, is the image Steve gets of Kas curling up by the foot of the bed in a similar position. As if he still means to keep watch. 
It’s ridiculous. A little weird. And sort of endearing.
——
The next time Steve wakes, everything around him is a little brighter, daylight fighting weakly to fill the room, but it stands no chance against the large wooden planks and thick curtains meant to block it out permanently. 
He blinks away the heaviness, taking stock of his body. There is a crick in his neck and burgeoning cramps in his side and hip from the position he’s still in, and this head still is a pulsing, aching mess — but no more than usual. 
He taps the pads of his fingers to his thumb before flexing his hands. Only then does he stretch the rest of his body and announce his wakefulness. 
Opposite him, at the foot of the bed, Kas is already awake and still in the same position that Steve saw him last. Did he even sleep? Does he need that? Or has he just been staring at Steve, watching him, ready to carry him to the bathroom again for round two. 
The thought of that makes his skin crawl.
“Hi,” he says to fill the silence that is all too inviting for his spiralling mind.
Kas grunts, but it sounds more like a hum. Sort of gentle around the edges. He doesn’t move, doesn’t seem at all fazed that they’re just kind of staring at each other. Steve swallows, not really sure how to go from here.
He fists the blanket and rubs the linen bedding between his fingers, feels the rough fabric catching on the callouses along his hands as uncomfortable seconds tick by. Still Kas doesn’t move. 
“Listen, man,” Steve says at last, thinking back to yesterday’s events and the vampire’s sudden care. “Thanks, alright? What you did, that was, uh. That was nice. You didn’t have to do any of that.” 
Another hum, and it occurs to Steve that Kas is back in his normal state, retreated back into his mind, hiding from the world himself now that it no longer needs him. It’s a strange thought, that Steve being hurt would be what brings him back. If at all. Maybe he’s reading it all wrong. Maybe it as just a coincidence, or maybe Kas tasted something in his blood that made him want to improve Steve’s physical state for selfish purposes. That’s probably more likely.
But it makes him feel even more wrong-footed than before, and it leaves him hyper-aware of the situation. Of their dynamic. Indifference and annoyance and… He doesn’t want it to change, doesn’t want some kind of debt between himself and Kas — especially not when Kas has no means to really settle it. But he also can’t feign some kind of gratitude when what he feels the most is mortification and embarrassment; and he sure as hell doesn’t want Kas to know that either. 
So he throws back the blanket and gets out of the bed, a little dizzy at first, but he doesn’t care as he slips into his shoes and hurries out of the room. 
He just wants to leave. Get out of here and go home, go back to bed and get over the mortification of having been seen like this. Of having been taken care of. By someone who doesn’t even like him. By someone who hissed and snapped at him one moment and then carried him to the bathroom the next. 
“It looks like there’s nothing human left in him, but we do have data that suggest otherwise.” Owens’s words echo through his mind as he crosses the living room. “It seems to be in hiding, the Munson part of him; that’s our hope at least. That you can get him back out one day, make him win over the vampire part. It could be like a self defence mechanism, I guess. We hope he can still be coaxed back into the land of the living. How, though, we don’t know.”
Was this what happened? Has Steve’s weakness triggered the human part of Kas’s tortured brain to take over? No, that can’t be. 
It seems unreal. Unlikely. Wayne telling him stories or Dustin talking about their campaign, that should have helped. Even Mike playing the guitar, or Robin rambling about something or other; all of that was much more close to who Munson was. Or used to be. Eddie Munson never struck Steve as someone who took care of people naturally. Someone who stepped in. He stepped up, sure, but only ever for the wrong reasons. 
It makes no sense. So it must be wrong; just Steve’s exhausted brain grasping at straws. It usually does that, anyway. Nobody knows if Eddie is even still in there. Part of Steve hopes he’s not. 
Just as he reaches for the front door, ready to just get out of here and pretend like nothing happened, he feels a presence behind him. Kas followed him out of the bedroom, standing in the doorway now with an unreadable expression. It's the blank one he usually takes on, but where before it was normal, it throws Steve off now. Maybe because he saw how Kas can look at him. How expressive his eyes can get.
He holds them, the red shimmer a little dimmer out here in the brighter living room. 
And maybe it's the blankness in those eyes, or the lack of judgment in Kas's every action, but whatever it is, it makes Steve let go of the door and turn to face Kas properly. 
"Why'd you do it?"
The vampire inclines his head. Listening. Always listening. Steve doesn't know how he never noticed that. It seemed so primitive before. Like how a dog will react to its owner speaking, but never process the words. Kas processes, though. So Steve keeps going.
"Why'd you... You kept saying that word. Safe. Do you, uh. Do you know what it means?" 
Slowly, his eyes growing a little less blank, Kas nods. 
Steve looks around the cabin, swallowing thickly, still feeling so out of place in here, still feeling the need to run and leave it far behind. But something makes him stay. Makes him want to understand. 
"You wanted me to feel safe?" Again, Kas nods. "Why?" 
There is hesitation there, and Steve wonders if it's because he doesn't want to tell him, if he doesn't know the answer, or if he doesn't know how to answer. It's a loaded question, maybe. 
"Pain," he says at last, his voice barely discernible from a growl, but somehow Steve seems attuned to it now. Maybe because he listens now. Because he wants to know. To understand. 
He waits, watching as Kas struggles for more words once more. Just like last night. 
"Know... Know... pain. Know.” He taps his temple with a clawed hand, and Steve's heart falls, his chest aching with realisation. 
Right. He would. He would know pain like that. If what the doc says is right, if what Vecna taunted them with is right, if every working theory the kids have is right, then… yeah. Kas would know. He’s know something about pain. More than any of them. Pain so intense it splits you apart from yourself. 
"Shit," Steve whispers more to himself than to the room, crossing his arms in front of his chest to hug himself and keep from digging deeper, keep his heart from falling further, and keep the horror at bay. 
He doesn't want to imagine the kind of torture Kas went through. Is still going through, if what the doctors say has even more truth to it. If Munson is still in there, still suffering because human minds have a way of holding on to pain — Steve knows soemthing about that, too. 
"I'm sorry," he offers. It's all he can offer. In the end, it’s all that’s left.
And still it's so lame. It's not enough. 
But Kas just nods again, a pained shadow of a smile appearing on his face. Something transpires between them in that moment, Steve can feel it, but he can't really define it. Maybe some kind of understanding. Some kind of safety. 
"I gotta..." he starts, motioning to the door behind him. "I gotta go. Will you be fine? Did you have enough, y'know, to drink?" 
Another nod, and the smile widens a little. Looks a little less pained this time. 
"Good," Steve says, stuffing his hands into his pockets, lifting his shoulders to his ears, trying and failing to seem casual in the face of those glowing eyes. "I’ll– I'll see you around, yeah?" 
And then he's out the door, his head spinning and aching, his steps heavy with the weight of whatever has changed between him and Kas in the past twenty-four hours. 
... sooo. part 3 anyone?
🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently) 🤍 tagging for this work only: @forestnymph-666 @little-trash-ghost @jupitersgonemissing
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artiststarme · 5 months
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The Gift of Not Dying Part 14
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
It's been awhile but hopefully this will get me back in the groove of things. I hope you like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!
~*~*~*~ Steve watched as the dazzling smile on Eddie’s face dropped to reveal absolute, unadulterated horror. He clearly wasn’t expecting his best friend/tomorrow’s date/future boyfriend to show up at fuck past two in the morning with a bruised face and blood covered sailor’s uniform. Steve could only imagine how he would respond if Eddie had shown up to Hopper's cabin looking like death the way Steve must right now.
“Oh my god, Steve?! What the fuck happened? Are you alright?” Eddie ushered him into the trailer and gently pushed him to a seat on the couch. 
Steve didn't know how to respond to him. On the one hand, he didn't want Eddie to worry. On the other hand, nothing would ever be alright again. Hop was dead, his body still stuck in the Russian base under Starcourt where he himself had died multiple times. Steve could feel the throbbing of his broken heart's beats pulsating in his face still. He definitely had a concussion if the double vision and underwater hearing were indicative of anything. Worst of all, it was all Steve's fault. This entire situation never would have happened had he not tempted the universe. He was too happy, he knew everything would fall into catastrophe eventually and he hadn't warned anyone.
So instead of answering his best friend, he pulled at Eddie's shoulders until the man got the message and wrapped him in a warm embrace that smelled of Honeybunches, motor oil, and marijuana. All of Steve's favorite smells that usually calmed him down. But not this time.
He sobbed into Eddie's chest, tears and blood mixing together on his face and soaking into the thin black fabric of Eddie's shirt. Steve just couldn't stop. He cried for the pain he'd gone through in the Russian base and the incessant battery he'd endured at the hands of sadists. He cried for the loss of Robin's normal life and the fact that she would probably hate him now since he'd dragged her into the absolute shit-show that was his life. Most of all though, he cried for Hopper. He cried for his dad that adopted him into his little family and gave him a little sister, the dad that dropped everything to help Steve whenever he needed it.
Poor Eddie just hugged him through it all. He didn't know why Steve had woken him up from a dead sleep at an ungodly hour in the morning only to unveil a face more recognizable as ground beef. He didn't know who had beaten him up or why Hopper wasn't behind him in his truck ready to drag him back to the overprotected cabin in the woods. He didn't need to understand because his best friend was in need of help and a good hug which Eddie could provide.
After what felt like hours of crying, Steve rasped, “Eds, Hop is gone. He died tonight.”
Eddie’s hands stopped their soothing circles on his back and he pulled back to look him in the eyes. There was no joking there, just complete and utter dread and hopelessness in the eye that wasn't swollen shut.
“Chief Hopper died tonight? Are you okay, where are you going to go?” He backtracked for a moment and pulled Steve’s battered body to his gently once more. “I’m sorry for your loss, man. I know the Chief was like a father to you. What’s going to happen now?”
Steve wanted to cry, to scream at the world for being so unfair as to take one of the only people that had ever cared for him. But his eyes were dry and his heart was bone tired after such an arduous night. So instead of sobbing some more or breaking down, Steve shrugged. “I’m going to have to go back to my parent’s house. I can’t stay in Hop’s cabin without him there. And El is going to live with Mrs. Byers. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Eddie shook his head and placed a weary hand on Steve's face. He wanted to give him comfort but with all the blood and bruises on his face, he didn't know where to touch without causing more pain. “You can stay here. Wayne won’t mind as long as we don’t mess with his mug or cap collections. He’s got a habit for taking in strays. Hell, just look at me. You’ll always have a place here.”
Steve couldn’t move in though. Everywhere he went, misfortune followed. He was like a plague, sucking the life out of everything he touched. It started with his parents and he sucked the joy right out of their lives leaving nothing but bitterness and sorrow, certainly not enough love for the disappointment he became. It broke Nancy by killing her best friend and tainting their relationship. Steve should’ve kept his distance from Hop and El but his selfishness won out in the end. And now Hopper was gone. Steve’s plague had struck once again and had stolen his happiness with it. He couldn’t do that to Eddie and Wayne, they’d been through far too much already. They didn’t deserve to deal with him on top of it all. 
“Thanks but I don’t want you guys to get sick of me. I’ll just stay at my parent’s house and crash here when they come home. If that’s okay with you and Wayne.”
Eddie shook his head before entwining his fingers with Steve’s. “Of course it is. We’ll worry about that tomorrow. For now, let’s deal with your face. Did you go to the hospital? I can literally see the bruises swelling in front of my eyes. There’s no way you don’t have a concussion right now, why would they let you drive like this?”
“They didn’t, I walked,” Steve corrected distractedly. His mind was reeling over grief and pain, too distracted to abide by the story he was supposed to use. 
“Walked from where?”
“Starcourt,” his mouth just kept talking despite his eyes seeing the alarm on Eddie’s face. “The Russians stole my car keys so I couldn’t drive. It’s fine though, I have an extra set in the kitchen of my parent’s house. It was only four miles or so, not too bad in the grand scheme of things. I’ve had worse.”
Eddie just looked at him blankly, too indecisive to decide on concern, horror, or anger at whoever had done this to his friend. He was pretty positive he loved this weirdo, who the fuck had the audacity to keep beating him to a pulp? Couldn't these monsters see how lovable he was?!
“Um, I don’t know how to respond to that. I’m getting my keys and we’re going to the hospital. I don’t need to know what happened, especially since I’m pretty positive that you’re concussed and not making sense. I just need to know you’re okay so we’re going to the ER. Let me just call Wayne and we can go.” Eddie motioned with both hands for Steve to stay still and he did. Even when he heard crashing in Eddie’s room while he looked for his keys and panicked whispers when he finally reached Wayne on the phone, Steve remained in his seat on the old couch.  
He knew he didn’t have to go to the hospital, the worst that could happen already had, but he couldn’t reveal that to Eddie. So, he’d bite his tongue and go through the motions. That was his specialty after all. For now, he’d let Eddie take care of him. He would ignore the grief that blackened his soul and the pain that accompanied the thought of his found family breaking apart. He'd deal with the trauma of loss and pain and death sometime later when he could handle a breakdown alone. At this very moment, Steve would hold himself together and lie to his friend and the doctors he was forced to see to keep the Party's secret. He had already dragged Robin into this mess and had probably lost her in the process, he didn't think he could survive losing Eddie too.
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formosusiniquis · 9 months
Text
intrada (sugar plum holly and her cavalier)
Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Steve Harrington & Holly Wheeler; Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler WC: 5708 | G | Tags/Themes: ballet, references to The Nutcracker, pre-relationship steddie, good babysitter Steve Harrington AO3
It was supposed to be a date that would merge their interests, something that had seemed classy enough for Nancy and athletic enough that Steve thought it would keep his interest. Supposed to be, in that when Steve had gotten the tickets -- begged his mom first for her and his dad’s season ticket seats and then for help finding a good seat when she said she wasn’t about to waste a sixty dollar ticket on a date -- he wasn’t even sure if it was the kind of thing Nancy would like. A year and a half into their relationship and he was only just realizing how surface level their conversations were, either talking about work or treating every conversation like an interview and parceling out information like they were afraid to reveal too much about themselves. So he was really working off of a jewelry box he vaguely remembered from her bedroom when he bought tickets for a ballet that wouldn’t even happen for another five months.
He wanted to have them when she got to Indianapolis, something to look forward to for their first Christmas together in the city. The Nutcracker, a classic supposedly but if anyone would know its cultural significance he figured it would be Nance.
And Steve isn’t an idiot, okay. He knows that Nancy isn’t exactly thrilled to be in Indianapolis, knows that she’s not happy to be at her safety school and not Emerson. Imagines having to wait to see if she made it up the waitlist all summer wasn’t the greatest experience; and he has to imagine because any time he wanted to talk to her about it she blew him off to focus on alternatives and next steps.
That’s why he does it. Hopes that having something to look forward to at the end of her first semester will help. Hopes that this is the first of many Christmases together, maybe a tradition that they can keep up. Going to the ballet together every year until eventually they’re bringing their daughter along with them. Maybe it’s too early to think about kids, but this is the kind of future he prefers to imagine over future careers and what he’s going to do with the degree he’s stumbling his way through. So he thinks about Nancy with pinned back curls in a nice dress humming along to songs they hear every year.
It was supposed to be that. Until it turns out that their relationship really couldn’t withstand being in the same city as one another. Until he’s forced to confront the hindsight that they never really talked about anything significant in the year they were doing long distance. Until Nancy tells him that she’s transferring next semester, and she isn’t interested in doing long distance; that she isn’t interested in continuing their relationship at all.
So Steve resigns himself to just being out the money for the two tickets. It’s not like he’s going to go to a ballet by himself, and it seems shitty to bring another girl to something that he imagined becoming a staple of his romantic future with Nancy. It’s not the first time Steve has cut his losses. (But he’ll die before he tells his mom she was right about not giving him her good seats.)
He honestly kind of forgets about the whole thing. Finals week has just ended. He’s pretty sure he flunked the one actual business course he took this semester to keep his dad happy, and he’s trying to figure out if he can change his major without screwing his whole life up. He’s ready to have a few weeks off. 
Then Karen Wheeler calls.
Karen is a nice lady, though if he’s honest he’s not that upset that she isn’t going to be his future mother-in-law. She’s a little… flighty, as his mother would say with a backhanded smile. He privately thinks she sometimes forgets that she has three kids, losing track of one or the other at any given time. So maybe he shouldn’t be too surprised when she calls him two months after her daughter broke his heart begging him to take Holly to the ballet.
“Nancy mentioned it off hand months ago, and Holly hasn’t stopped talking about it since. I know it’s a big ask,” she had said in a tone that made it very clear she didn’t entirely care and would think poorly of him if he answered the wrong way, “but if you still have those tickets it would mean the world if you could take Holly.” He hadn’t missed the emphasis on the you either. Clearly Karen had no interest in making the trip to Indianapolis and he hadn’t needed to ask about Ted.
He didn't think of himself as a pushover, but he did think of little, blonde, six year old Holly: too quiet and too shy for her age. Fighting to be seen by a negligent dad and a mom who loves her children, but cares about appearances just enough to be blind. And he finds himself saying, “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Wheeler, but could you meet me somewhere halfway?”
It’s not until they’re settled into their seats -- on the floor but in the back, a booth behind them occupied by a pretty boy in a headset that Steve refuses to look at for too long -- that he realizes that he has no idea what this show is even about. Holly has been quiet since he picked her up, the least surprising thing about this trip right above Mike glaring at him from the passenger seat of Karen’s car as he moved Holly’s booster seat, but she’s studiously flipping through the little booklet the usher handed them on their way to their seats.
“Thank you for bringing me, Steve. I’m sorry Nancy didn’t want to come.” It is somehow simultaneously the longest and worst thing Holly has ever said to him.
“I’d rather see it with you, Holly Jolly.”
He’s saved from having to find anything else to say by the lights around them dimming, a prerecorded voice letting them know that any photography is forbidden and to expect a fifteen minute intermission, a bright and bouncing song picks up once the talking stops. He relaxes in his seat a little, relieved to get a few minutes before he’s expected to entertain a six year old that he’s spent more time with today than he had the entire time he and Nancy had dated.
Now Steve, contrary to what he very much knows is the popular opinion, isn’t just a jock. He knows there’s no talking in ballet. He’s even been to one before this, when he was still a cute novelty in his suit and bowtie accompanying his parents to the theater. What he is, according to his old nanny, every teacher he’s ever had, and about half of his exes, is a selective listener. 
It’s not his fault though that his brain instinctively cues into different sounds. The buzz of the light above him louder -- and more interesting -- than a lesson on factorials. The sound of someone’s relationship imploding hard to tune out no matter how interested he is in his own conversation. So of course the sound of someone talking cuts straight through classical music.
“Someone remind David he needs to smile at his partner, he looks like he’s dreaming of a murder suicide.”
And it wasn’t hard to find exactly who the voice behind him was talking about. The only frowning face at this Victorian party who was glaring daggers at the magician who was bringing in new dancers.
“Well he should know better than to sleep around the cast shouldn’t he, Birdie?”
A practiced reader of body language, Steve could almost see, underneath the choreography, the traces of impropriety. David’s undisguised glare. The wistful way the woman in blue tracked him around the stage. The woman in pink who mooned at the woman in blue. It made him wonder what kind of things were going on backstage.
He expects that to be in. He doesn’t really do theater much, too many memories of pinched arms and snarling trips home, but he does remember the one rule is no talking. But it doesn’t stop, barely slows.
“If Mark sets himself on fire doing this stupid firepaper magic shit do we get to go home early?
“Sure, Robbie Bobby, I’ll swap out for the Rat King last show of the run. Jay can do my job and I’ll do his.
“Five bucks someone slips on the snow as they exit.”
He wants to know if that stranger wins the bet but the curtain closes and Holly is shy and asking Steve where the bathroom is. So instead of working up the nerve to turn and talk to the man behind him, he’s smiling his best mom-charming smile and asking the first woman with kids he finds to take his guest into the girl’s room.
By the time she’s out of line, and Steve buys her the doll and the novelty sucker she’d been pretending she wasn’t looking at, they slip back into their seats as the lights dim again. No chance to make his own witty jokes or observations, break the ice and show off some of the Harrington charm.
The first dance goes by with little fanfare and Steve’s almost disappointed. Holly is wiggling excitedly in her seat next to him, clutching her own little nutcracker, and he’s not even paying attention to the stupid show that’s got her so excited because he’s too focused on a snarky stranger he’d only even looked at once.
“Jeezus christ, is Tom stuffing his dance belt? That’s some Bowie level shit happening up there.”
He had almost given up, so it figures the guy decides to speak up once Steve’s attention started to shift back to the stage. He nearly chokes on his own tongue, eyes darting straight down to the issue in question. Holly, the sweetest kid he’s ever met, pats his back softly, hesitantly, like she’s only seen the gesture before. “There’s a water fountain by the bathroom,” she tells him in a library whisper, “I can stay here and not move.”
“I’m okay Hols,” he lies, ignoring the itchy, squeezing feeling at the back of his throat and forcing the cough away.
It’s easy to do when there's something else to focus on, “No, Lizzie, I’m not going to shut up. No one cares if I’m occupying the channel.” The stranger seems to be gearing himself up for a monologue, “I’m not going to miss my cue, I am the cue. Robin’s not going to miss her cue  because it’s to music. Her cue doesn’t exist without me and she knows all of these songs and what note her cue goes with because it’s the eighth fucking time we’ve done it this week. If you or props have something you’ve got to say clearly you can get a word in edgewise.”
A few numbers go by after that, quiet except for the occasional professional, “Light cue, go.”
And then a song he actually sort of recognizes starts. A pretty strawberry blonde with a dainty smile tip toes and spins across the stage to plucked strings. Holly is enchanted, perched at the edge of her seat she reaches a hand over to clutch at Steve’s sleeve. A ‘tell me someone in the world is experiencing this moment with me’ sort of gesture. Awestruck and world rocked, stars in her eyes. Any resentment, any hard feelings that might have still lingered at babysitting evaporated. He got to be the person that let Holly experience this. A moment just for her, no family to take second place for.
The dancer on stage spins, clearing the floor in a series of tight, controlled rotations. Her arms guiding each step, swinging out and pulling her in, the driving force of her momentum. She’s moving fast, it’s an impressive display. Something shoots off in the opposite direction of that controlled turn, almost distracting in its break from that clean motion.
“Tell Props Chris just lost an earring.
“Fine, tell Wardrobe then.
“I’m not being a creep, I know she’s your girlfriend, Birdie. I merely observed her earring launching across the stage like an arrow from an elven bow.”
It’s like catching half of an Abbott and Costello act, like who’s on first being done through a telephone. It’s a strange sort of connection, listening in on a conversation that isn’t meant for him. He thinks for a sad second that he hasn’t ever had a friendship like this.
The show is wrapping up, dancers from scenes past making their way through for quick appearances. Holly is vibrating in her seat. Dancers in intricate costumes glide across the stage to bow toward the petite dancer in the nightgown and the strawberry blonde, Chris, beside her. A few moments later it's finished, the lights rising up around them and he shifts his primary focus back to Holly. 
In the middle of the room, they had the best view of the stage and the longest wait to leave. Steve tries to be subtle as he shifts Holly in front of him, afraid of losing her if she's out of his eyeline. He doesn't want to baby her by making her hold his hand. She's wiggling in place, but she keeps herself small. Careful not to bump into the people slowly moving out of the aisle in front of them. 
“Hols,” he starts to whisper, not wanting to embarrass her before he asks if she needs to hit the bathroom again.
But she grabs his sleeve in a child's iron grip,  "Steve, I want to meet the princess."
It turns out, it's hard to find a way to tell an excited kid that there aren't meet and greets after a show like this. Pleading blue eyes and a nervous smile looking up at him, desperate but scared to ask for too much. The least he can do is try.
The guy behind them is still there. 
The back of their line, Steve isn't holding anyone up by taking a minute to look. He's lithe, all in black. Hair pulled up in a half-assed bun, a headset tangled in the curls. He's wrapping up a thick cord, Steve couldn't guess why, but it draws focus to a toned arm that he's curling it around.
“Hey man,” the booth is a little bit above them, forcing Steve to rise up on the tips of his own toes to make sure he's visible, “I know you're working but I wanted to ask. The girl at the end- I, uh, I overheard you say she's your friend's girlfriend is there anyway you could convince her to come meet us.”
The guy startled a bit, probably surprised at being addressed. If he’s embarrassed at being overheard it barely shows a soft flush that could be from the warmth of the room. "The girl at the end?”
"The princess,” Holly shouts, bouncing up and down to try to see over the lip that blocks her view of the booth.
A change falls over the guy, his smile softens and eyes widen. He carefully drapes himself across the board of buttons and sliders to look Holly in the eyes. "Oh she's even better than a princess, she's a fairy. The sugar plum fairy. Is this your first time seeing the show with your dad?”
“Steve's not my dad.” She tells him with a little giggle, no doubt comparing Steve and Ted in her brain.
“Holly is my ex-girlfriend’s little sister.” He places his emphasis carefully.
“There’s a lot happening in that sentence.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, my Lady Holly, I bet I could convince Chrissy to meet a fan.” He promises with a flourish, “As long as your companion doesn't care that her faithful company will definitely be there the whole time.”
“Are you part of the group?” Steve asks, confident enough in his read of the situation to lay on a bit of charm. Letting his eyes trail down the sprawl of the guy's back. A thrill of victory at the little nod he gets back. “Then I won't mind at all.”
“Rockin’ Robin, tell me you still have your headset on?” He directs into his headset, “Great, remember that favor you and Chris owe me? I've got a fair princess who would like to meet our dear Sugar Plum Fairy.”
There's a lengthy pause. Even without the music playing the response is too quiet to be made out through his headset. “I don't see how that's relevant.” He hisses, “and she didn't ask to see an awful hag so you don't really even need to be there.”
His face clears after a second, looking to Steve like he wants them both to pretend that the earlier conversation hadn't been overheard. “Go through that door at the end of the front row right beside the stage.” The auditorium has cleared out enough he's got a clear view of the door the guy points to. “You'll end up in a hallway with a locked door at the end, wait there.”
“And if someone asks us why we're waiting there?” Steve asks, “I can tell them..?”
“Eddie, I'm- I Eddie Munson told you to wait there, if someone stops you before I get there.”
It's hard not to grin now that he has a name, Eddie, so he doesn’t bother. He puts on his best smile, the boyish and winsome one that always flusters whoever it's directed at, at least a little. Eddie is no exception looking back down at his work quickly. Steve takes a little pity, turning his attention back down to Holly.
She's twisting in place, hands clasped in front of her, as she stares off into space. He feels bad immediately, too familiar with what it's like to be a kid forced to entertain yourself while adults talk above your head.“C’mon, Holly Jolly, let's go wait for your fairy.” 
She takes his hand the second it's offered, swinging it back and forth, humming one of the songs from the show. “Steve, do you think she's a fairy like Tinkerbell or a fairy princess like Barbie?”
“I don't know Hols, what do you think?”
“Tinkerbell is kinda mean to Wendy, but she can do magic and fly. But Barbie is really nice so if she were a fairy she'd be a fairy princess and have a crown and help people.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes! And this fairy looked nice when she was dancing, but it didn't look like she had a crown. Can you be a fairy princess without a crown?”
Holly was buzzing, bouncing in place, clearly over whatever earlier nerves she'd had about talking to him. With her back to the door that they were told to wait by, she’s started listing all the different jobs Barbie has had and why they should make a fairy princess doll -- Karen’s homemade Barbie clothes, he learns, are not as well made as the hand me downs from Erica and Mrs. Sinclair, so she needs the real thing. Holly misses the way the door creaks open, the woman from onstage inching her way out of the half opened exit. 
Chrissy presses a finger to her lips, happy to help her surprise Holly, Steve keeps listening to her talk about why there should be a Barbie movie. He only nearly ruins the surprise when the dancer pushes down on the front of her saucer like skirt and it smacks her in the back as it flies up, letting her exit the back room.
Focused on her story, Holly doesn’t notice as the woman crouches down beside her. Not until she says, “This must be the princess I was told about.”
The screech she lets out is so joyful he almost doesn’t mind that his ears are ringing. Steve finds his smile mirrored on a freckle-faced girl dressed in the same all black as Eddie who is sliding out the door now as well. She sidles up to Steve, letting Holly have her moment with the fairy uninterrupted. “And you must be the prince charming.”
“Shut up, shut up,” Eddie pants, coming to a bent over rest beside Steve, “whatever she’s saying ignore it. Fuck.”
“You jogged like twenty feet,” the girl says, clearly unimpressed.
“Sorry Nancy Reagan, I say yes every time.”
“There are children present, have some class, Munson.”
The child in question could be on another planet, that’s how much she’s aware of their existence, Steve thinks.
“I have class every Monday, Wednesday, Friday; Saturdays are fair game.”
“Oh! That’s why you look so familiar,” the girl says, she’s looking at Steve now but he’s not really sure why. “We were in the same Communications and Public Speaking class, Prince Charming. Steve, right?”
He did have that class last semester, the only one technically tied to the business major his dad wanted him to have that he actually passed. “I, yes- sorry I don’t. I spent most of that class zoned out waiting for my turn to speak.”
“No, yeah, I figured. You sat a row in front of me and always looked shocked when you got called on, then you’d brush your bagel crumbs all over the floor when you’d go to speak.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, not really sure what to say to that especially not when it’s being said right in front of a guy he was kind of into.
“Birdie holds the strangest grudges in the history of the world, take it as a sign of respect, Big Boy. She hated me for half of our music theory class because my handwriting didn’t look like it matched my general demeanor.”
“No, I hated you because you always smell like weed and never do the homework but somehow are still the professor’s favorite. And I still hate you for all of those things, but your unfortunate personality grew like mold on my girl- I mean grew on,” her face takes on a look of panic as she pivots her word choice. It’s confusing, at first, until he realizes he’s the source of panic. A familiar joke made with a friend, forgetting the new, possibly untrustworthy stranger until too late.
The siren song of new friends and a possible date is alluring, but with Holly in the room he does have to be careful of what gets back to her parents. He remembers Ted’s political alignments and gossip tends to reach his parents faster than he can. So he does his best at assurance, “Chrissy, right, she seems cool. It was nice of you guys to do this, Holly is probably only a little bit more into fairies than I am.”
Eddie sputters beside him, hard to tell if it’s a good sign or if Steve has just royally fucked up his chances at anything; but if it means easing Robin’s fears of queerbashing he’ll ruin his chance for a date every time.
“Into fairies,” Robin asks, nodding over to Chrissy, who’s showing Holly how she balances on the tips of her toes, “or…”
“I’m light in my loafers, or half, light in one-”
“Ex-girlfriend,” Eddie supplies.
“Right.”
“Worst way anyone has ever described being bisexual,” Robin says. 
“Sounds like a challenge,” Eddie says.
“It was not.”
“I really appreciate this,” Steve says again to avoid the argument. Chrissy is helping Holly spin around on the toes of her patent leather mary janes, she’s giggling as Chrissy holds her pointed finger helping her twirl and twirl. “How’d you all get involved in all this? You’re still in school.”
“They always need a little help around the holidays, normally the theater kids get first dibs but there’s only like five tech kids and they’re all working the school show so the music department gets next go.” Robin explains.
“Chis is a prodigy so she put in a word for us specifically,” Eddie adds. Before he leers and leans deep into Steve’s space, it’s not an unwelcome move. “Unless that was you fishing for friends, Big Boy. Trying to figure out if you’ll see us on campus?”
“Oh,” Robin exclaims, like the thought had never occurred to her. “Are you finished with your gen eds? Wait, what's your major? Eddie, show off your party trick.”
He isn’t a total loser, so he doesn’t fidget or blush as Eddie runs his heady brown eyes up and down the length of him, taking him in. “Business and Marketing,” he declares after a second, but he doesn’t sound sold on it.
“I’ve been thinking about changing it,” Steve isn’t sure if he’s admitting Eddie’s right or just trying out what it sounds like to admit that he’s sick of being everything he’s supposed to be instead of what he likes. “I took Children’s Psychology for the whatever requirement and it was a million times more interesting than Intro to Econ.”
It feels like it’s going well. When Nancy broke things off Steve had resigned himself to finishing out college without any real friends, dating around and hoping for something that stuck. Here with these people, he can feel something starting. He wants to take that feeling and capitalize on it, follow through on something so another good thing doesn’t slip away from him.
That’s not the kind of luck that he has though. 
“Steve,” Holly buzzes, grabbing his hand with no hesitation, “Fairy Chrissy said that I can be a dancer too! Can Santa bring me shoes like hers?”
Christmas is a week away, if Stever were guessing, he’d say the Wheelers have had Holly’s presents picked out and put away for most of the month. “I don’t know, Hols, Christmas is pretty close and the North Pole is pretty far. Do you think the mailman would have time to get all the way up there?”
Her shoulders slump, making Steve immediately feel like the worst person in the universe for crushing her dreams. “He's watching though, so I bet he saw you ask right now,” he does his best to smile, hoping it's comforting since it feels tight-lipped and desperate.
“Yeah!” She brightens, starts to hum along to the song just a little off pitch, getting more excited as she goes until she's murmuring, “Knows if you've been bad or good.”
“Hey Holly Jolly, why don't you tell Fairy Chrissy bye and thank you. We don't wanna be late to meet your mom.”
She's still singing but she nods, turning and shuffling back to Chrissy, still a few steps away.
“Would she know where to get those, Chrissy, the shoes that Holly would need?” He asks Eddie and Robin in a whisper, hoping Holly is distracted enough by her goodbyes that she won't hear.
“Are you..?” Eddie asks, a blush staining the tops of his exposed ears. “Ex-girlfriend?” 
The emphasis catches his attention and, yeah, he can see how that looks. “Her parents aren't going to drive up to the city before Christmas, but the town over does lessons.” Barriers to entry, that's what his marketing classes called it, maybe he did learn something. He wants to make it as easy as possible for Holly to get what she wants. “She's a good kid, she should get what she wants for Christmas.”
That blush spreads, bleeding down from his ears across his cheeks. “You're a good dude.”
“Steve, I said bye. Do we have to leave now?” Holly asks.
“Let me say bye too, Hols, and we'll grab a treat before we meet your Mom.”
There's a pen tucked behind Robin's ear that he snags before he can second guess what he's about to do. Grabbing her arm first, he scrawls his number across it. “I've got a place off campus, no roommates if you ever want someplace to hangout or to study,” he tells her. 
He grabs Eddie's hand next, rubbing his thumb along the palm and slowly writing the same number on his arm too. Keeping a hold of his hand for as long as he can. “I've got a place off campus, no roommates, if you ever want to come by and do something, have dinner?” He'll start there, let his interest be noted, and hope that Eddie is the type to like guys who dive in head first heedless of the water below. 
Steve can already imagine a future where he's sneaking into the booth with Eddie. Watching shows he's never heard of before with a warm commentary murmured into his ear. Gossip and behind the scenes rumor, distracting him from a plot that's less important than the company. Maybe next year, after double dates and a growing closeness, he'll be able to sneak Holly backstage and she can meet other dancers too.
Maybe next year, he'll be convincing Eddie, and the girls he hopes will be his new friends, to drive down to Hawkins with him to watch Holly do jumps and spins of her own in their small town showcase. Eddie was good with Holly, Steve hopes it isn't a fluke, he's always wanted kids.
He's probably getting ahead of himself. Falling into the same trap he'd built with Nancy that had gotten him here in the first place. The romantic in him wants to spin this all as fate, it could be true after all. 
Steve takes Holly's hand, they both wave goodbye, and leave the empty arts center. The winter sky is lit up by a full moon, fat snowflakes slowly float down to the ground beside them as they head back to his car, and for the first time since Nancy broke up with him he feels good about the future.
It's a long drive back to the McDonalds where he's meeting Karen, with Holly already dozing in the back seat, it's time that he can sit and be happy. Regardless of whether there's a message blinking on his machine to welcome him back home or not; what was supposed to be a relationship compromise ended up being the most fun he's had in weeks. So maybe Chrissy will tell him where to get Holly's shoes, maybe Robin will invite him for coffee or swing by to compare classes, and -- if he's really lucky -- maybe Eddie will invite himself over for dinner.
But, as he hums along to the waltz whose melody lingers in the back of his mind, the possibilities are something to look forward to.
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lexirosewrites · 7 hours
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Due to trauma Steve presented very late. And when he did present,it was in april of '85, as a duel dynamic. Alpha and Omega. It's extremely rare,and messes with his hormone levels in such a way he is constantly going into pre heat/rut, and feels sick nearly all the time. Not only is it debilitating, he's so nervous about anyone finding out, its very taboo rare thing to happen., and he's terrified his parents will find out he's not just an alpha and will kick him out. Only people who (know until he tells Robin on the mall bathroom floor) are his doctors and himself, He no longer sleeps with anyone until he can sort things out. During the summer of 85 his doctor has come up with a plan of action, they believe a bitching will solve his issues,cornering him into being an omega should help fix things a bit. They think the process may need to be stretched out so it'll stick. He'd still have his alpha cock and his hormones should balance out and he'd feel exponentially better, though he'd still have to take medication for the rest of his life to prevent himself from becoming duel again, and possibly help him from being infertile, because that's also up in the air much to Steve's dismay. Trouble is he doesn't know any alpha he could trust to help him, it's such a HUGE daunting favor and he wishes he already had a mate to help him. He would ask Nancy but the history and the fact that she's with Jonathan is definitely not a good idea…and Robin can't help with the sexual aspect of it of course, though being around her makes him feel a bit better,and calms him a bit, but she's not the alpha he needs.
After the events of season three Steve gets worse and Keith, who didn't want to hire Steve to begin with, keeps threatening to fire him, because he keeps needing to take off work just to to rest. So he starts bringing in doctors notes to get him off his back and then rumors finally start flying. His parents even hear about Steve hiding some big illness and are horrified when he tells him the true reason, and want him to become a full alpha instead, which isn't possible for him. An attempt could kill him while becoming a full omega, while still dangerous, is the more sensible decision. They make it clear to him that they will not support him in that. All the drama makes him feel even worse and it goes on for months, he's even confronted with the whole FRIENDS DON'T LIE spiel and tells them "I'll eventually be okay, don't worry." He cant really tell them what needs to be done but that's all he can say.
85 ends and Steve still does not have an alpha that can help him, until he meets and befriends Eddie,during the nightmare that is the events of season four. They become friends and are there for one another during the healing process after the bat attacks and even as they get better from those injuries, Steve just keeps getting sicker,and his body feels alight when Eddie is around. He wants to ask Eddie, but he also doesn't want this new special friendship to implode because it's such a HUGE ask, that's one hell of a favor to ask from a friend (and crush!!!). During a particularly bad round of illness Eddie swings by to check on Steve and Steve finally tells him whats gotten him so sick, And Eddie immediately, without hesitation, volunteers himself. Tells him "I'll do it Steve. You take care of everyone so well, let me take care of you. Let help you."
eddie wants to take care of him 🥺😭💕
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welcometogrouchland · 2 years
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[ID in alt text] my magnum opus
#the owl house#toh#hunter toh#lilith clawthorne#i have hcs about their dynamic but they're mostly comedic tbh#like yeah it's fucked up that Lilith had beef with a child but it's also pathetic and i think that takes the edge off it tbh#hunter kinda knows this. he doesn't like her and i appreciate it when ppl read it as ''hes walking on eggshells around her''#based on that one dana art#i think it's a fair read#but i personally like to read it as equal parts nervousness and annoyance at having to be placed with Mean Un-Fun Lilith#hunter thinks she's a loser and has no idea why she hates him so much. he's just trying to do his job man#(my personal elaborate hc as to how this dynamic formed is that hunter as a child used to think Lilith was cool! he wanted to be like her!)#(unfortunately his braggadocios persona as the golden guard gave Lilith the impression that he was Out For Her Job and also Life)#(and bc she's Lilith these threats from a child are taken seriously. she will play nice when Belos is around but she DOES NOT TRUST HIM)#(and she's just not going to interrogate her own insecurities regarding yet another bubbly teen prodigy coming in and stealing her thunder)#(she is definitely not getting reminded of her own insecurities related to eda being better than her growing up. no sir)#(she totally doesn't see the emperor as her mom whaaat that's crazy)#(ANYWAY post canon i think they could be good friends. bitchy friends but good friends)#(someone the other comes to when they need a brutally honest opinion! steve hangs out with them too. ex emperor's coven buddies!)
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