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#i should be studying like steve
stevesbipanic · 2 years
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Eddie was worried.
Steve was supposed to be home two hours ago, sure he'd been late before when he was on the closing shift but never this late and he always called. Eddie couldn't wait any longer, he grabbed his keys and practically ran down the stairwell to his van.
Eddie pulled up to the bookstore Steve had started working at since Robin had left for college. The lights were still on, Eddie didn't know if that was a good thing or not. He walked by Steve's car and through the unlocked front door.
"Steve? Sweetheart you here?"
Eddie got no reply, he was about to have a full blown panic attack when he saw him. Tucked behind the register, head in a textbook was Steve, asleep and alive. Eddie hoped one day a missing phone call wouldn't make him jump to something horrible but today wasn't that day.
"Here there, baby, it's time to go home," Eddie said gently shaking Steve's shoulder.
"E-Eddie? What are you doing here, what time is it?" Steve groggily replied.
"It's almost 9, Stevie, c'mon let's get you home." Eddie gathered up Steve's books into his backpack picking it up and helping a sleepy Steve to his van.
Steve fell back asleep on the drive home and Eddie didn't have the heart to wake him once they got home. It was a struggle but eventually Eddie managed to carry Steve back up to the apartment, he was glad they only lived on the second floor.
He placed Steve on the couch and went to reheat Steve's dinner. He hears shuffling behind him before feeling Steve wrap his arms around his back and snuggle into him.
"Have I told you lately that I love you?"
"Everyday sweetheart, I love you too, let's get some food in ya and then we can shower and go to bed alright?"
Steve nodded taking the plate and leaning on Eddie again once they got back to the couch.
"You're running yourself into the ground, baby, it's worrying me a bit, what if you fall asleep driving?"
"It's just a little longer, Eds, I've got these last two finals and then I'll have my diploma and be able to work at the school."
Steve had been working hard to be qualified to be a school guidance counsellor while also working to pay rent, bills and for school since his parents had cut him off because of his "unsavoury" company, Eddie still felt bad.
"I know, angel, and I'm so proud of you, just wish you weren't so tired so much."
"At least I sleep well with you, Eds."
"Being cute ain't gonna make me any less worried, Stevie."
"I know but it'll all be worth it soon."
"You're gonna be a great counsellor, sweetheart, now c'mon I know for a fact you have no class or work tomorrow, I'm making sure you sleep in and get breakfast in bed in the morning."
"The threat of your burnt toast is enough to keep me asleep."
"It adds flavour, baby."
"Whatever you say, Eds. Thank you for looking after me."
"Always, Stevie."
The next day Steve slept in last noon and enjoyed burnt toast with runny eggs with the biggest smile on his face because he knew Eddie would always look after him when he couldn't.
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stevebabey · 1 year
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part one, part two, part three. this a part four. this is so accidentally long but hickies as promised, w a brief return out touch starved steve <3 mwah!
Eddie is sure his kiss tastes of uncertainty.
He can’t help the way his lips betray his nervousness in their obvious restraint. He knows he had been far more enthusiastic last night, eagerness behind every kiss. This kiss is… softer. Shyer.
He can’t help it. Because even though Steve said yes, had maybe flattened Eddie’s heart by adding a please, Eddie’s still… unsure. Still worried. Still waiting for a punch to come because that’s what happens to boys who kiss boys.
But… Steve’s hands are still holding onto Eddie’s wrists, keeping them in their place where they cup Steve’s face so gently. When Eddie had leaned in, lips grazing Steve’s, he had felt the other’s tightening grip like a silent prayer, saying come close, stay close. Even now, the grip around Eddie’s wrists holds firm.
Though it’s the last thing he wants, Eddie breaks the kiss. He draws back, savouring the moment — the sweetness of Steve’s lips for what might be the final time — with his eyes shut tight. Did I do it right this time? He thinks, he hopes. Can I kiss you and keep you?
“I’m…” Steve starts, his voice a whisper. Eddie’s eyes open. His fingers flex along Steve’s jaw instinctively. “Really confused.” Steve admits quietly.
His face is reserved. Only slight ripples of anxiety peek through. The crinkle between his brows speaks of his abundance of confusion. Eddie’s eyes drink in every expression and he can’t stop help how his eyes catch back on Steve’s lips. He stares when Steve speaks.
“I thought you— I thought you didn’t want…”
“Didn’t want this?” Eddie echoes, with a tone of incredulity, eyes darting back up to look Steve in the eye. He punctuates the last word with another touch, the pad of his thumb touching Steve’s bottom lip bravely.
Steve shivers. His eyes flutter for a moment, in a way Eddie has come to know means his strange aversion to touch is flaring up but — but Steve’s hands keep Eddie from moving away when he tries. Steve nods slowly.
Eddie swallows — tries to push down the ache to kiss him again. They’re still twisted; Steve still doesn’t get it.
Neither does Eddie though. He can’t even imagine what Steve came over to apologise for. What mental gymnastics he had put himself through to somehow be the one who needs to apologise in this situation.
“Where the fuck,” Eddie breathes softly, with an appalled chuckle, letting Steve know he wasn’t mad. Wasn’t in the slightest bit annoyed, only confused. “Did you get that idea?”
Beneath his hands, Eddie can feel Steve’s cheeks grow hotter. The colour soon follows, a glorious crimson that fills the apples of his cheeks. And sure, fine, okay, sue Eddie if he enjoys the sight a little too much. Steve all flushed in the face, ears definitely warmer than they were a second ago.
Steve starts to stammer. “You— You sounded annoyed when I was leaving.” His brows are nearly touching in the middle, drawn together in concern. “I thought you were regretting—“
Eddie interrupts to clarify, suddenly aware of where they’d gotten so muddled. “I sounded annoyed because you were leaving, Steve. Not…”
Not because you asked for a kiss. Eddie’s throat dries up. He can’t say it aloud, not just yet. The words dance on the tip of his tongue. Eddie doesn’t trust himself not to fumble them.
Even though, Steve’s sudden departure had been due to a genuine misunderstanding, Eddie can’t— he’s not… He’s got to be realistic with himself, just in case. Not say too much too soon.
Steve reads into the silent lull in Eddie’s words and in an instant, his eyes are widening in understanding. Somehow, his cheeks glow even warmer.
“Oh,” Steve says, the word doused in relief, in understanding. “Oh my god—“
The rest of his sentence is lost as a car drives by, tires groaning loudly along the tar road. It serves as a quick reminder of where they are. In public, in such close proximity. Eddie steps back instantly, hands ripping away from Steve as a lick of panic runs up his spine. His eyes track the pale blue car down the road.
They were covered by the van but, still.
“C’mon,” Steve says softly, calling to catch his attention.
The panic wavers wildly for a moment before eventually relenting, Eddie dropping his shoulders as he turns back to Steve. He’s delighted to find Steve is no less red in the face.
Steve clears his throat, “We can call a tow back at yours.”
He gestures to his car, an invitation, with a smile. Eddie’s not even sure he’s meant to say something so reassuring; a mixture of the use of we and the implication Steve would come back home with him. Would come inside.
Eddie can’t help how he ogles at Steve. He’s doing another once-over to make sure Steve isn’t a mirage about to fade. Maybe Eddie had actually crashed his van when the engine spluttered on him and all this was a weird and extremely vivid coma dream.
Except, Steve doesn’t look perfect — not like a dream would.
Eddie can tell from the flatness of his hair, he likely didn’t sleep well. He’s got a tired but kind smile on. It’s shyer than Eddie’s ever seen before.
He’s still wearing that bright green Family Video vest for Christ’s sake — if Eddie was in a coma, he had some serious self-reflection to do if his brain picked this as his dream-Steve fit.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, with a nod and a smile of his own. “Lemme, uh, lemme just grab my stuff.”
Eddie turns to hide his face before Steve can see it grow into a wild frenzied smile, too gleeful to contain. He pops the driver’s side door and scurries around, grabbing all the essentials; cigarettes, lighters, and tapes with actual good music on them.
Steve’s waiting for him, still in the same spot when he slides the door shut. Eddie works the rusted lock to lock it up. No, Eddie thinks gleefully, this is not a dream.
-
Steve is surprised it’s not more awkward.
Not that he wants that— honestly, this sweet in-between phase where Eddie keeps glancing over at him, brown eyes longing and like he was checking if Steve was still there, as he talked on the phone, suited Steve just fine. More than fine.
And yeah, okay, maybe Steve swooned a bit when Eddie started twirling the cord of the phone, so much like a lovey-dovey teenage girl that Steve nearly laughed aloud. He wasn’t sure if Eddie even realised he was doing it. Just leant up against the wall, stealing glances at Steve — his fingers fiddling with the cord til they began looping it over and over.
Steve wouldn’t though— laugh at Eddie, that is. It feels pretty much impossible to do anything except sit with all his giddiness, just knowing that… his feelings for Eddie are mutual.
That Eddie hadn’t regretted the kisses in the slightest. That Eddie had wanted Steve for just as long.
It’s achingly sweet to look back on that first hug Steve had asked for — knowing they had both been toeing the line, trying desperately to keep their pining to themselves. Idiots, Steve scoffs to himself affectionately, they were both idiots.
Rerunning the memory of his hasty exit last night is less of a breezy memory. Steve doesn’t want to think too hard about what malicious ideas Eddie’s brain might have spun up to taunt himself.
He must’ve thought that Steve had left for entirely worse reasons. That the reason Steve hadn’t been able to look at him because he thought Eddie was… that he regretted… Steve shakes his head. None of those thoughts are pretty.
And, more importantly, they were untrue. Steve very much liked those kisses. His only regret that night was leaving the way he did. Honest, Steve would have more kisses if he could.
Something scorches across his heart delightfully because he can have more kisses — he just has to ask.
“Okay, thank you so much,” Eddie says appreciatively into the receiver. He dashes another look over at Steve, an apology in the form of his sorry grimace. He focuses back on the phone. “Yeah, I’ll be in tomorrow to see the damage. Thanks, again.”
He sets the phone back in the cradle and for a moment, Steve can’t see his face. Can’t see any of the nervous contemplation. Eddie finally seems to grasp his courage and spins, fixing Steve with a smile.
“Um,” He says, a nervous chuckle leaking through. Eddie moves closer but he moves all skittish, one of his sneakers catching on nothing. He stumbles just a bit, taking a quick seat on the couch arm beside Steve.
“Wh—“ Eddie starts to say. He huffs another nervous chuckle, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “This might be a stupid question but what… now?”
Steve thinks for a moment. He’s considering how to go about this when Eddie blurts out in a hopeful tone— “More kissing?”
There’s an unspoken please. Steve revels in the blush that follows the words.
He smirks up at Eddie, eyes tracing the bloom of pink on his cheeks. “What? On the couch, like I’m some common whore?”
“You seemed to have no problem with it last time, my liege.” Eddie points out dramatically, all with a grin.
“And I have no intention of repeating last time.” Steve counters. Then frowns.
“Well, except for the good part.” He corrects himself. “The first part! Just- Christ, can we go to your room instead, please?”
Eddie’s on his feet in an instant. He brings his hand up to his forehead and gives a salute with enough force to rip his arm off. Then marches down the hall and disappears into his room without waiting for Steve.
Steve thinks the nerves might be getting to him.
He walks the steps he’s walked a hundred times before, crossing into Eddie’s room and pressing the door shut behind him.
Eddie’s sat on the bed, criss-cross apple sauce style. He’s kicked his sneakers off — one’s by Steve’s foot, the other on the other side of the room.
Steve swallows and toes off his own shoes. He approaches the bed, climbing on gingerly and folding his limbs to match Eddie. That familiar swoop of nerves sits oh-so present in the pit of his stomach. Steve tries to think of it as a good thing — it’s good to have something so good that he’s nervous in his excitement.
For a moment, they just sit. Staring at one another. One of Eddie’s fingers is digging into the rips of his jeans, toying with the loose strands. It gives away his restless energy.
Steve waits. He asked last time and he knows — he knows Eddie wants to kiss him. But a small part of him…
“Why is this so hard?” Eddie blurts out all of a sudden. Like before, the words seem like they’ve come out without Eddie realising, but he barrels on. “Shit, I’m so fucking nervous. You make me so nervous, Steve.”
Eddie’s eyes won’t settle. They dart around. Move from Steve’s eyes to his lips, down, to the bed sheet beneath them. Like he still isn’t sure if he’s truly allowed to look. His admission makes Steve sorta wanna roll over and scream into the pillow. In a good way.
“I’m— Me too," Steve admits, a smile curling at his lips. “The- fuck, the way I feel about you honestly scares me shitless.”
Eddie seems to be both chuffed and relieved at his words.
“But I… want to kiss you,” Steve says assuredly. The next sentence he poses as a question, words a little more hesitant. More nervous. “And… and you want to kiss me?”
Across the bed, Eddie grabs a piece of his hair, twisting it nervously as he pulls it to cover his face. His usual nervous tell. Steve can’t help how he breaks into a grin when Eddie nods fervently.
“Cool.” Steve breathes. Then mentally smacks himself for saying cool. He tries to recover but Eddie beats him to it, with a question of his own. “Can I kiss you now?”
Steve answers by shuffling closer, til their knees are touching and then — like beside the road earlier — mimics the touch Eddie had given him.
Hands on either side of Eddie’s face, gentle as they curl under his jaw. Steve can feel the curls of his hair tickling at his fingertips. Another inch forward and he’d be burying his hands in Eddie’s hair. Steve bookmarks that urge for later.
Eddie looks nervous. Steve is undoubtedly making it worse, taking his time like this. But he can’t help it.
He wants to look — wants to stare, wants to devour every detail of Eddie’s face. Commit it to memory so he can picture it with his eyelids closed. What Eddie Munson looks like while waiting for a kiss.
The amount of affection that swells in Steve’s chest hits like a sucker-punch, enough he sucks in a tiny breath. He can see the smallest quiver in Eddie’s lip.
“You gonna stare all day, Harrington?” Eddie teases, but it lacks conviction when the words wobble a bit.
“Just enjoying the view,” Steve remarks, and then, finally, he kisses Eddie.
It’s the floodgate. It’s a frenzy, kiss after kiss after kiss, the softness of them slipping away in lieu of making up for missed time. Steve kisses every apology onto Eddie’s lips and he receives forgiveness a dozen times back. It’s bliss.
Eddie’s a very enthusiastic partner, to say the least. He’s a little messier with his kisses, hands gripping the front of Steve’s shirt tightly, pressing forward in a way that pushes Steve back— but Steve certainly doesn’t mind. He removes his hands from Eddie’s face to lower himself back, elbows against the comforter as Eddie follows eagerly.
For a moment, a sprout of doubt pulls them apart. Eddie hovers, not getting too close. “This is… this is okay?”
Steve grabs him by the collar and tugs him down, meeting him in the middle for another kiss. It’s a fat unanimous yes. Something glows hot in his chest when Eddie smiles into the kiss. Grins even. In fact, he has to take a moment to cheese it out, his face tucked into hiding against the crook of Steve’s neck.
Steve doesn’t mind. His hand strokes idly over Eddie’s hair, twisting in with the curls. He lets him take his time, lets Eddie work back up the nerve to kiss him again, except— with a gasp, Steve squirms at the sudden kiss on his neck, hot and soft.
“I think you were the one overdue for a hickie,” Steve breathes, hands threading through Eddie’s hair gently. He doesn’t pull him away though; lets Eddie figure out the best way to scrape his teeth against Steve’s skin as best he likes.
“Uh huh,” Eddie murmurs, barely heard. He’s too distracted.
“Eddie,” Steve tries, but it comes out far too close to a sigh. He tries again, this time with a proper tug to pull Eddie back from him.
It’s a bit of leftover King Steve the way he manoeuvres the both of them, rolling deftly so it’s Eddie upon his back and Steve hovering above him. Eddie manages to look both impressed and disgruntled at once.
Steve doesn’t let him get a word out. The pale stretch of skin down Eddie’s neck has been calling his name for too long and Steve is hungry for it. He grants Eddie one, two, three more kisses on his lips before he’s moving down.
He’s just getting started, lips pressed to hot skin when it happens. Eddie’s hands move up, skirting barely up and under Steve’s shirt, fingers searching. The unpleasant aversion prickles under Steve’s skin.
He locks up. He’s unable to do anything but; it feels helpless even as he tries to shake it off but he knows, he knows Eddie can feel it as he grows rigid under the touch.
It’s worse when Eddie tries to reel his touch back in. Steve wants to cry with frustration because it’s not Eddie— it’s fucking him.
“Don’t,” Steve pleads, his hand diving down to catch Eddie’s wrist and holding it there. He knows Eddie’s watching him closely, even as Steve’s eyes scrunch shut and he fights to fend off the uncomfortable feeling attempting to make home under his skin.
“It’s…” Steve wills himself to look Eddie in the eye, hoping the sincerity bleeds through his words. “It’s not you, Eds. Just— fuck, just… give me a second, okay?”
He releases Eddie’s wrist. Eddie nods, a minuscule motion. His brown eyes are watching Steve closely, darting all over his face wildly and after a moment, they still on his lips. Eddie makes a decision and pushes forward, planting a tender kiss on the corner of Steve’s mouth.
“S’okay,” He assures. Then gives Steve another kiss, this time on the lips, slow and sweet. Steve drinks it in, tries to savour the feeling of being kissed by someone who wants him. Wants him in every way they can have him. It's maddening.
Eddie’s hand moves an inch cautiously, testing the waters as his fingertips trace the skin of Steve’s tummy. He doesn’t flinch when Steve stiffens up again.
Like he can sense the frustration building up in the other boy, he captures Steve’s lips with his gently. Whispers against them again as soothingly as he can. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
It’s like the words run across the raised hackles of Steve’s soul, soothing and seeping out the tension from every muscle. Steve can feel himself relax under the words. Feels something inside him wobble and then tip over, finally soothed, finally settled.
This time when Eddie’s hand grazes along his waist, Steve shivers in a good way— and leans in closer, kissing back. His hands clutch back at Eddie’s hair, raking through to grip it sweetly. He tugs, jerking Eddie’s chin up and exposing his throat.
“Can I…” Steve begins. It’s a tease.
“Shut up,” Eddie grinds out, hands fixed on Steve’s waist. Now he knows he can touch, that Steve isn’t tensing up or flinching away, his hands are rabid. Hungry. They crawl across the skin, leaving hot scorch marks behind that tingle delightfully. “This hickie is so overdue.”
Steve grins wolfishly.
Eddie’s neck is a thorough shade of violet by the time he’s done, chest heaving. He looks devilishly handsome when Steve pulls back to admire his work and he barely gets a moment before Eddie’s back on him, lips hot against Steve’s own.
“My go.”
This time when Steve’s getting ready to leave, he half-heartedly pulls on his shoes. It’s a pitiful attempt to slow down the inevitable. He can’t believe leaving is harder this time; maybe it’s more to do with the hickies adoring his own neck and collarbones.
“Hey, I-“ Steve starts, already feeling flush in the face. Eddie’s watching him pack his stuff up, still pink in the face, but so evidently content with himself. He’s laid back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head. He’s showing off the dark lovebites on his skin, neck craned proudly.
“Mm?” Eddie hums, a cheeky smile on his face.
“When I— Robin.” Steve says, flashing a hand to his neck. “She’s- she’s probably gonna ask.”
Steve swallows. He somehow gets the feeling Eddie already knows what he’s going to ask — that he’s waiting for him to say it. Eddie’s grin says as much.
“And when she does, I—“ Steve continues, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. The kisses on it tingle beneath his own touch. “Can I… call you my boyfriend?”
Eddie glows. It’s the only word for the excited laugh that punches out of him, like a gleeful goblin.
Steve thinks he might just be falling all over again when Eddie rolls over and buries his face in his pillow. He pretends for Eddie’s sake not to hear his muffled shout that’s almost a squeal. His cheeks are ruby red by the time he sticks his face back out, his grin so wide it makes his eyes crinkle in the corner.
“Yes,” Eddie says, voice giddy. “Yes, please.”
And Steve’s so fucking glad he asked for that stupid hug way back when, because got a gremlin-level of affectionate boyfriend now to show for it.
-
and that's likely a wrap on the can i series for now ! i had an inkling of an idea for future but tbh i wasn't supposed to write this i like have 7 other fics callin my name. but alas! thank u so very much for the love on this, whether sending kisses to my touch starved self or talking bout needing a hug too in the tags <3 hopefully this heals all the right places <3 mwah my loves
tags below:
@original-cypher @maya-custodios-dionach @uwujinniee @attic-cat-blog @immortal-iratze @anaibis @orangeandthefairroadkill @etaka @silversnaffles @invisibleflame812 @eddie-hero-munson @jesskier @princess-eddie @impeachy @estrellami-1 @bloomingconflagration @newtstabber @iwouldsail @sundead @darksmistress @sydstroons @leethegay @superchellerific @eddielives1986 @jinxjinn @breealtair @steddieassheg0es @loopholesinmydreams @savory-babby @alittlegreyfish @izzy2210 @em9515 @killjoy-patrixtump @mrspasser @spectrum-spectre
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you still resent nancy and jonathan for getting together???? for “hurting steve’s feelings”??? despite the fact that he verbally supported their relationship like 2 hours after seeing them together. this from a season that released 6 fucking years ago. a season prior to him saying that he was NOT in love with nancy anymore. do you want me to call shawn levy and tell him of your dilemma. bestie do you need to rewatch the source material
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cringengl · 1 year
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What does this mean Duffers explain😡😡😡
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The Owl House  secondary characters as Pokemon Trainers
I have been getting back into pokemon lately, and (possibly since I already looked up/ explored palisman with every single character) I have recently been fixated on what pokemon would be on the kids in the owl houses team if they were pokemon trainers. I started with some of the secondary characters because I reasoned that hey would be easier at first and setting up their teams would be good practice for making the main 5 kids teams. After spending the better part of a week I have done nine different teams. Here are teams for some of the owl house’s best secondary characters
Boshca
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Boshca was actually really easy in part because I got this idea while on her page, and also partly because, while she doesn’t get along to well with people, the show has made variuos hints throughout the 3 seasons that she is an animal lover (duel track potions&beast keeping Boshca).
3 animals Boshca is shown to have an affinity for are: Ratworms, Pixies, and crabs (Maya). So I am going to turn those into an Arboc, a Cleffa, and a Crabby. Headcannon that Arboc evolved pretty easy for her, Cleffa will evolve when she learns some more about friendship, and she used an everstone on Crabby so it would always stay small enough for her to carry around.
Next like I said I was on her page when I got this idea so I want to credit @notcale who posted that Boshca would have a fire/fighting type mix team. They gave her some High-powered pokemon like Charizard and Blazikun, that I agree she would want, but I do not think is ready to handle. So for now I am going to give her a Charmeleon and Combustion. These are her teams powerhouses. Also I am going to say that Charmander was her starter and her Charmeleon has a rivalry with Willow’s Ivysaur.
Her sixth pokemon is a Gloom. She comes from a potion family, and its a pokemon that I remember was popular among potion makers. She caught the gloom because it reminded her of helping her moms out at their center.
Bosca’s team: Arboc, Cleffa, Crabby, Charemeleon, Combustion, Gloom. I think she would be more likely to become a pokemon coordinator than a gym battler (more showing off) and she totally taught all her pokemon to play Grudgby as both a training exercise and a first killer first round performance.
Skara
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Skara is tied with Steve with begin my favorite minor character, and I really wish she had more screen time. I wasn’t sure at first if she had enough characteristics to make a team out of.
Her 15th birthday party had real butterfly invitations and her palisman is a red and grey cricket. This tells me she is a little fancy and likes bugs, so I am going to give her a Heracross, a kiricketot, and a beautifly.
She is also a bard student which probably means she likes music. (We’ve never seen her with an instrument in show verse, but Dana has drawn pictures of her with some kind of recorder or flute.) So I will also give her a chimecho, a jigglypuff, and a Loudred.
Skara’s team: Heracross, Kiricketot, beautifly, chimecho, jigglypuff, and Loudred. Some things I have noticed about Skara is that she is really strategic, but also is pretty clumsy. So I headcannon that she would originally want to be a pokemon performer, but she would get tripped up a lot at first. She got into contests when she thought she didn’t have what it took to be a top performer. But I also like to think she would eventually go back to competing in performances once her and her teams skills improved. Maybe like Serena Skara would decide to do both.
Matt Tholomule
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A here’s the shows resident gremlin dork. He is fun to watch in episodes and was actually one of the most fun to make team.
Since his base track is construction I am giving him a Doutrio and an Alolan Geodude. Specifically an Alolan gGeodude because it looks like a regular geodude with drawn on eyebrows and facial hair, and we all remember “Man-Thoulomule”. These were his first two pokemon. We’ll say that he was paid for one of his odd jobs with a diglet egg, And he took the Geodude from some con he helped once. The con wasn’t treating it well, and when Matt said he would report the con’s dealings if They did not give him Geodude they called it useless and said Matt could have it.
Next he has a Sandshrew and a Evee. These two he caught. Specifically because they are baby versions of two of his brother Steve’s pokemon, Sandslash and Unmbreon. Since Matt admires Steve so much he wants to raise and train some of the same pokemon Steve has (Note in this Au verse the Emporor’s coven would be team rocket, and Steve is probably someone very similar to James. Unlike James he eventually leaves team rockett,) Also headcannon that while Matt originally caught Evee hoping to evolve it into an Umbreon like Steve’s, it doesn’t evolve until he starts getting into illuison magic as well, and (happy surprise) it instead evolves into an Espeon. Matt loves it and shows it off to Steve once he comes back home. Steve teases Matt some for having such a cute, pink pokemon (they are brothers after all), but also makes it clear does actually think its a cool fit for Matt.
Next up in Matt’s team is a Radicate; sorry no story for this one. I just wanted to give him a big, scruffy, rat. Lastly the most powerful pokemon on Matt’s team is a Mimikyu. I will acknowledge that that is a pretty high level pokemon for him. Well say its the last to join his team, and it probably has given him a few nightmares. But I think Matt would ultimately be a really good trainer for Mimikyu (much like Jessie was). Since both have dealt with lots of insecurities, and attempts to fit in by pretending to be something they aren’t.
Matt Tholomule’s team: Doutrio, Alolan Geodude, Shandshrew, Evee (later evolves into Espeon), Raticate, and Mimikyu. I am also going to copy Brock a bit and say that Matt tried out gym battling and would boast about how he was going to one day become a top battler, or all powerful gym leader, but his heart was never really in it. He eventually decides to become a pokemon breeder, which is what he and his team are happiest as.
Vee Noceda
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I wasn’t gonna do Vee at first because she only ever got small bits of character that I did not think would be enough. But after I did the others I decided to try to use Vee’s character bits to make a team, to see if I could.
Mylotic:Vee’s strongest pokemon. She needs a serpent to represent a basilisk fourm
Delibrd: Vee mentions liking birds in a letter to Camilia, and a running gag with her that has been present since Reaching out is how much she loves writing and leaving sticky notes. So a messenger bird is definitely something she would want.
Ditto: A pretty obvous one since it is a shapeshifter. Also the team I made for Luz has a Shiny Dido on it. So if I give Vee a regular Dido then the sisters can share being ditto trainers.
Hapiney: the baby of her group. Some art by Dana hints that Camilia has been teaching Vee first aid, and she has also started working through healing from her own trauma since moving in with Camilia, So i wanted to give her a baby healing pokemon to show these.
Alcremie (Berry, Vanilla) :Changed from Leafeon after I rewatched Vee’s character and noticed how often she is depicted to both enjoy and be a knowledgeable cook. I am not sure what Vee’s favorite flavors are, but the pokedex said that the Vanillia Cream one needs some time to develop trust in those around them, but once it does trust you it loves to feed you treat. That sounds like Vee. I also decided to give her the berry sweet one because blueberries are an earth treat that are used in many recipies
Pumpkaboo: because it matches the pumpkin on her sweater. Like I said I am using small stuff for some of them.
Vee Noceda’s Team: Mylotic, Delbird, Dido, Hapiney, Alcremie (Berry, Vanillia), Pumpkaboo. I definitely see her as aiming to become a pokemon breeder.
Edric and Emira Blight
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I am only giving the twins four pokemon each, instead of six, as they (particularly Emira) did not get enough character development for me to use for a team of six pokemon
Edric’s team consists of a Butterfree (his would be butterfly palisman), a Gallade (representing the Illusion track. Fully evoved because Illusion alone was so easy for him) a Gligar (this would be his beast track pokemon, picked due to his intrest in that track taking off after him getting Batric), and a paras (representing potions track).
Emira’s team consists of a Masquerain (her would be moth palisman), a Gardevoir (representing the illusion track. Fully evolved because illusion alone was so easy for her), a Chancey (Helps her learn healing, and look out for Ed and Amity), and lastly a Piplup (Dawn’s helped her manage her hair in the morning, something reaching out shows Emira also has trouble with... I debated cutting it from her team since she winds up just cutting her hair off. But well Em’s other three are sweet and she could use a pokemon that is not afraid to give attitude when others try to mess with her team).
The twins used to battle a lot in Tag team battles. They still do that together as a side thing. But now also have their own pokemon assistant jobs that. Edric is an assistant to a pokemon Perfessor at a lab, and Emira is an assistant medic at a clinic.
Viney
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Blissy: So was originally a healing student, and even when she starts duel tracking with beast keeping in season 2 she is still known as "the best healer in school". I already gave hapinny and chancy to Vee and Emira respectively, so due her increased skills at healing viney gets a Blissy.
Fearrow and Litleo: So Viney's most iconic companion is Puddles, her baby Griffian. Griffians are a mix of being a large bird, and a lion. It is important to note that Griffians are also predators. With these in mind I picked a Ferrow (the more aggressive version of Pigeoto,a s Puddles was aggressive and Viney was still working on training her) and Litleo for her. Litleo can also represent her manticor palisman, since it was mostly a lion. (Litleo is unevolved partially to keep her team from being to Op, but mostly so I do not have to chose a gender for it).  
Seadra: So I really wanted to give Viney a good water type (She strikes me as someone who likes being by the water). I thought about doing a Gayrodoes or Huntail so I could still get in the serpant part of a maticore, but those didn't really work. Viney is still new at Beast keeping (again she takes car of and works with Baby animals) so a Gayrodoes could still be kinda much for her. Also let's be honest Huntail is really lame and Viney deserves something better. The water line I kept coming back to was the Horsea line, and the pokemon was Seadra. A strong line, and  a mid level one Viney could work with during the show time. It's toxiens can also have some healing effects if used rightly , whoch Viney would learn quick. Lastly by the time the epilogue came around she would have a super strong water/dragon type.
Viney's Team: Blissy, Fearrow, Litleo, Seadra
note I also really wanted to give Viney a bug type. Anyone have any idea as to which one she could be a good trainer for.
Jerbo
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Jerbo gets one less pokemon than Viney because his character was used a little less than her.
Exeggutor: Plant was his first track, and given that he likes to make plants grow legs and get up and walk, I am calling Exeggutor as the perfect duel grass type for him.
Grimer: abomination is his second track once he starts doing multracking. So since he is new to it I will give him a grimer instead of a muk.
Boltund: Jerbo has a unicorn-dog as a palisman so first i looked up if there was a fairy-type dog pokemon...there was two: snubble and fidough neither of which really worked for Jerbo. So I changed my tune. Whatever dog Jerbo's palisman is its tall and lean, with a long face, so I looked for dog pokemon that were shaped like that. I found boltund. That's a good boy dog, and with how inventive Jerbo is he deserves a strong electric type.
Jerbo's team: Exeggutor, Grimer, Boltund.
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faerune · 2 years
Text
steve’s parents and mr. reed not liking who their kids are dating: mrs. reed the minute she sees steve: STEVEN!!! hihoneyareyoueatingyou’resoskinnyhowisworktellmeaboutitillgomakeyousomethingtoeat
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unkreativstermensch · 9 months
Text
"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“
"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.
Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"
At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."
Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.
He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“
Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?
"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“
Eddie blinks. "What?“
"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“
Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-
Steve takes another step back.
"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“
Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"
"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“
Oh.
Oh no.
Eddie fucked up.
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.
His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.
She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.
Until he quits.
She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.
She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.
He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.
She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.
He’s a natural.
He takes to it like a duck to water.
She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.
He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.
And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.
He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.
But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.
He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.
Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.
He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.
He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.
He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.
Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”
He gets in.
He goes.
He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.
His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.
In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.
She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.
In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.
Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.
“Sorry, man. Running late.”
Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.
“Harrington? You’re a student here?”
He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.
“Munson? When did you get here?”
“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”
“Violin. You?”
“Guitar and songwriting.”
“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”
Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.
“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”
“What’s it trying to tell us?”
“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”
“Now?”
“Why not? Got better plans?”
Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.
“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”
Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.
“I could make dinner. If you want?”
“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”
Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.
“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”
“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”
Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.
But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.
“Sure.”
They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.
Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.
By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.
By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.
Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.
And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.
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lovebugism · 3 months
Note
OMG Stevie helping his shy!girlfriend with a bloody nose while at school just ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️
steve promises a good time in exchange for skipping class with him. you end up with a bloody nose. (established relationship, hurt/comfort-ish, 0.8k)
“Missed you,” Steve slurs against your mouth, pressing your body between his towering one and the cold bathroom stall.
You manage a quiet giggle between his sloppy kisses. He swallows the sunshine sound with his plush, pink mouth. “It’s only been three hours,” you tell him as you twist your hands in his wild hair. The chestnut strands feel like silk between your fingers.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” the boy mumbles before pressing his smile to yours. He licks into your mouth and sighs at the taste, almost like he’s never felt you before — like he hadn’t kissed the breath from your lungs all lunch period.
He’s insatiable, your beautiful brown-eyed boy, and he kisses you with haste accordingly. He’s always seemed to touch you that way. With a hunger, like every time he’s held you is the very first time. And with an eagerness, like any time could be his last.
Steve gets all boyishly aggressive beneath the weight of his yearning. And you, warm and fondly held by his swollen mouth and wide palms, can’t help when your head gets all swimmy about it. It’s a horrid combination, really. 
‘Cause when he ducks down to kiss your neck, you rise to the tips of your toes to swallow him whole. Your faces bonk rather gracelessly together accordingly — like a couple of poorly aligned planets.
“Oh, shit!” Steve exclaims as he pulls back from you, rubbing at his aching forehead.
“I’m okay!” you blurt — not because you entirely mean it, but because you feel like it’s something you should say after being so carelessly clumsy.
The boy’s face twists with a puppylike pout. His jutted lips are rosier and very ardently kissed. His honey eyes flit rapidly across your features, glazed over with leftover longing. You look about as far-gone as he does now.
“Are you sure?” Steve presses. Because you’ve got a tendency to downplay the severity of certain situations for the sake of being a burden. It’s a whole thing. You’re still working on it. “I know that had to hurt, babe.”
“I’m fine,” you insist despite the distant throbbing between your eyes. Shaking your head with so much vigor doesn’t help. “I promise. I’m good… I think.”
Steve peers down at you, visibly unconvinced. His narrowed eyes widen when blood drips slowly from your right nostril, trickling like a river of crimson down your cupid’s bow.
Your brows furrow at his suddenly concerned gaze. “What?” you wonder as you reach for your mouth. His eyes are very obviously pointed there, and you’ve got a weird itch now, anyway.
“Nothing! It’s okay, just— Maybe don’t touch it,” Steve blurts before ducking at your side. He unravels cheap toilet paper from the dispenser beside your thigh and wraps it around his hand. He rises again to wipe the nosebleed, only to find that you’ve smeared it with your fingers.
Your eyes go glassy at the cherry-colored blood staining your fingertips. “Gosh…” you murmur as your heart swells into your throat. You blink slow, head all swimmy — and not in the good way.
“It’s okay. You’re alright, babe,” Steve insists as he smooths a softly calloused palm beneath your jaw. He guides your chin softly upward and presses the tissue to your nose. “Here. Just tilt your head back. Hold this ’til the bleeding stops, yeah?”
At a loss for what else to do, you listen to him. You press the crown of your head against the stall wall and wrap a trembling hand around the boy’s wrist. You can feel his racing pulse beneath your thumb.
“This is the last time I’m skipping study hall with you,” you announce with an icy glare that’s hardly intimidating. “Ever.”
Steve’s lip quirks into a sheepish half-smile. “I figured,” he replies.
When the bleeding doesn’t stop, he takes you to the nurse’s. 
He sits with you in the concrete room, beneath the buzzing fluorescent lights and the overwhelming scent of bleach. His hands tremble with the longing to touch you while the nurse checks you over. She shoves a cotton ball up your nostril and a bulky icepack in your hand.
Steve would help you hold it if he didn’t think it would be the worst idea ever. He’s already gotten you into this mess — he figures it’s best to keep himself out of the rest of it for now. He idles in the corner, instead, and plays the innocent bystander.
“How did this happen, exactly?” the woman asks as she scribbles out a report. The pen against the clipboard sounds much louder in the quiet.
You glance over her shoulder at Steve for an answer. He shrugs with panicked eyes. The nurse peers at you over the frames of her cat-eyed glasses with a most impatient glare.
“I, uh— I just wasn’t paying attention,” you stammer less than convincingly. “Slammed right into a wall. Guess I should watch where I’m going, right?”
You force out a giggle while the older woman flashes Steve a deadpanned glare. “And I don’t imagine that you were the source of this distraction. Were you, Mr. Harrington?” she montones.
“Me?” he scoffs with a lopsided smile. “Of course not.”
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estrellami-1 · 1 year
Text
If I Should Stay
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
He’s staring at him.
Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.
The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.
“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.
“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.
“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”
“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”
Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”
“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”
Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.
Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”
Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”
Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”
Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”
“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.
“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”
Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”
He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”
“To- to prove you’re from the future?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”
He blinks. “What?”
Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”
Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”
Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”
“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.
A ring Eddie already has on his finger.
“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.
His hands start shaking.
“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”
“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.
“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect
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mrsbarnesblog · 8 months
Text
my everything
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.
Word count: 6.8K
Warnings: angst and fluff, I fucked up original timeline so there is no civil war in here, bucky needs and gets a hug, you're bucky's gf from the 40's, cryofreeze, self hate talk, happy end.
Author's note: enjoy💘
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“Aren't you fucking tired of this?” Bucky growled as he burst into the common room where Sam, Steve, and Natasha were sitting. "If you set me up on another date, Wilson, I'll break your fucking wings."
Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Calm down, cyborg. Look at you, all angry and stressed out; you need to get laid! When was the last time you’ve been on a date?"
Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise as he glanced between his two friends.
"Sit down, Barnes." Nat nodded her head at the couch across from her. Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, as too many feelings were bubbling inside of him, but he obeyed and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now explain what happened.”
 "This idiot is trying to set me up again.” He said, nodding towards Sam. "And I told you I'm not interested."
 “But why? Don't you want to feel like back in the days and have some fun with pretty women? This Hydra shit clearly wasn’t good for you. You’re too tense and always mad. Go on a date, maybe you’ll find a good girl to spend some time with.” Sam genuinely wanted to help his friend, and he didn’t understand why Bucky was so mad about it.
The look on Bucky’s face was weird. Like he wanted to say something but, at the same time, didn’t want to share his thoughts. 
“Are you already dating someone?” Natasha leaned with her elbows on her knees and studied his face. There was definitely something that Bucky didn’t want to say.
Steve looked between the three of his friends, and when Nat asked Bucky a question, it was like a bulb turned on in his head.
 "Buck…" Bucky met Steve's eyes, holding eye contact for a few seconds, like they were talking about something that only they knew.
 “Hey!” Sam said, waving his hands. “What are you two doing? Do you know something, Rogers?”
 “Buck, is it because of her?” The blonde said it almost in a whisper. “You still remember, right?”
“Did you have a girlfriend before the war?” Natasha, as always, understood everything immediately, and it was funny to see how Sam’s mouth fell open in shock.
Bucky clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap, not sure if he should reveal the truth. He had kept it to himself for so long—ever since he escaped Hydra and the memories from the past started to flood his head. It was too painful to think about you. To think about the woman who was his whole life many years ago. He remembered everything, and now he sees you in his dreams almost every night. Sometimes in nightmares, sometimes in the good ones, about the life that you two would’ve had if he hadn’t gone to war.
“What the hell are you hiding from us?” Sam shouted again, trying to get attention.
 “I…” Bucky frowns, staring at his hands. “I had a girlfriend... before the army, before the Hydra.” He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Just the thought of you hurt him, making him regret everything. That he left, that he didn’t marry you, and that the universe had this shitty plan.
 “And that’s why you don’t want to go out with someone?” Come on, man, how long has it been?  80 years? Get over it. It must have been another one of your girlfriends that you hooked up with when you were young.” He chuckled, looking between his friends, none of whom seemed happy with his choice of words.
 "Sam, don't—"
“You sound like an asshole.” 
 “Get over it?” Bucky didn’t let Steve or Nat finish their sentences before he barked at Sam, looking even more angry than before. “Just another one of my girlfriends? Do you have any idea what the fuck you're talking about, Wilson? " He looked like he was ready to kick his friend right in the face. “She wasn’t one of them. In fact, there was no “them”. In my entire life, I’ve never even touched another woman because I've been in love with Y/N since I was 14. We started dating when I turned 18, and I proposed before I had to go to the war.”
Bucky’s emotions quickly changed as the hot rage turned into a longing for memories and feelings. He felt a lump in his throat, so he reached into his pocket for his wallet, from which he pulled out your old and shabby photo, gently running his finger over your face.
“Y/N was everything to me. She said yes, and I promised her that I would return so we could get married. I imagined that I would spend my whole life with her, you know? I don't need any other woman. I do not want it. I still love her, and I don't care if either of you find it funny.
The room fell into heavy silence. Steve just looked out the window, remembering the times when the three of you went to Coney Island, and he was always the third wheel. You were his friend too, and the aching feeling in his chest was too heavy.
Sam felt a little bit awkward after saying these things about your relationships. He wanted to tease Bucky, not be rude.
Natasha was the one who took the first step when she stretched the arm so Bucky would give her the photo. “You two look so cheesy. She’s really gorgeous.” She smirked, looking at the old black-and-white photo of you two sitting on the bench. Your back was almost lying on Bucky’s body, and his arms were wrapped around you. It seemed like you were talking about something and enjoying the private moment. Bucky had the biggest smile Natasha has ever seen on his face, as he was looking at you with heart eyes.
 “Can I see?” Sam finally asked, nodding at the photograph in Natasha's hands. She passed him the photo and Bucky moved in his place, feeling a little bit uncomfortable about revealing this part of his life. 
“You two look cute. Weird to see a smile on your face.” Sam chuckled.
“Where did you find this photo?” Steve leaned closer to the picture, immediately remembering the day you and Bucky took it and the way Bucky has had it with him ever since.
 “I took it to the war. Always had it in a jacket, even on missions. She was with me that day on the train. I think Hydra found this in my pocket. When I ran away from there, I found a box with my stuff; the photo was there.”
 “Have you… tried to find something about her?” Steve lifted his head, studying his friend's reaction.
 “Yeah,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know how, but I didn’t find anything. Two years after my fall, there was no record of her. No marriage certificate, no place of residence, no place of work. Nothing. Like she just disappeared.” He shook his head in despair. 
 “But it's impossible.” Steve frowned, giving the photo back. “A person can't just disappear and leave nothing behind.”
 "I don't know," Bucky shrugged, looking back at the photo for a second and then slipping it back into his wallet. "Maybe it's for the best. I don't know how I would come to terms with the news of her death.”
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It’s been almost two weeks since that conversation, and luckily for Bucky, Sam didn’t attempt to set him up with anyone anymore.
Earlier that day, Tony announced that his new technology had spotted some weird activity in something that looked like an old and hidden Hydra base. It was pretty much abandoned, but there were signs of small energy consumption, as if something was still constantly working. That’s why the team of Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Tony had to check it out and destroy any possible danger.
After being free from Hydra, Bucky didn’t take part in many missions because the team agreed that it would be better for him to heal and stay far away from triggers. But this base brought up many concerns: it was hidden far away, there was no information about it in nonofficial papers, and even Bucky himself had never heard about it. Tony insisted that someone with knowledge of the Hydra system should go there too.
When the four of them arrived on the quinjet at something that looked like a well-hidden abandoned bunker, they decided not to split up and go through the main and only entrance.
“Be careful; we don’t know that they might hide in here.” Steve said, going in first with a shield in front of him. Bucky and Sam went after him, holding rifles and checking the big and almost empty room.
“They should clean in here, kinda dusty.” Tony chuckled in his usual playful voice. 
“It’s not a good time for your jokes, Stark.” Steve was always a little too serious during missions, and Tony really liked pushing his buttons. “I see the light in the other room.” He whispered, carefully opening the door. 
“Holy shit.” Sam and Tony spoke at the same time when all four of them entered the giant room.
There were five big glass machines that were a little bit foggy and had a little lightning in them.
“What is this?” Steve ran closer to one of them and saw that there was a man inside. “Oh my god, there is a man in here... It looks like he’s alive.”
“There is a folder called “The Winter Soldier Program” with personal information.” Sam said, picking up a file from the shelf in the corner of the room. “George Harris, 27 from New York. Kathleen Hill, 21 from New York…” He read, mumbling to himself.
“It’s a cryostasis chamber. Hydra used it to freeze me.” Bucky lowered his rifle, coming closer to one of the chambers. Another man. “It lowers your body temperature to the point that you can be kept like that for many years. Hydra– “ Bucky went silent when he got to another glass camera. 
“Barnes? Why is there—” Sam didn’t finish his words when the sound of Bucky’s weapon falling on the cold concrete filled the room. 
“No-no-no, please, no!” He whispered, moving closer to the glass. He couldn’t believe what he saw. 
You were right in front of him, with closed eyes and too pale skin. That was impossible. It’s not you. There was no chance that you somehow ended up with Hydra. 
Bucky felt like he was unable to breathe. He tried to inhale some air, but the lump in his throat was too big. The tears blurred his vision; he didn’t hear anything around him, as your almost lifeless body was the only thing that he thought about. You, his sweet girl, somehow ended up trapped with monsters, and he couldn’t do anything to save you from it. 
“Bucky!” Two pairs of hands dragged him from the chamber, and the blurry vision of his best friend was now visible in front of him. “Bucky, listen to me! You should calm down, buddy. Just breathe, okay?” Steve deeply inhaled and exhaled to help Bucky, and after a few minutes, he was finally able to speak.
“T-that’s impossible, Steve. She shouldn’t be there! She should’ve found another man and lived a happy life with her family!” He said in a shaking voice, angrily wiping away tears from his face. 
“I don’t know how this happened, Buck; I really don’t. But she may be alive there.” Steve supportively squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. 
“We can’t just take these people out. We should transport them to the tower and find the safest way to unfreeze them.” Tony said in a serious voice, not joking around anymore. He walked closer to the chambers, studying each of them. “It looks like they are working on their own power, and this one, “he pointed at the one that was dark and with water drops from the inside. “Doesn’t work anymore. The man is probably dead.” 
“Are there any chances of getting them out of there alive?” Sam glared at Bucky, who was just staring at your peaceful but haggard face through the glass.
“I don’t know, but me and Banner will do everything we can.”
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It took another day to find a way to move four of the still-working chambers to the compound and ten more hours to defrost everyone. and to say that Bucky was completely stressed out and exhausted was an understatement. He didn’t sleep at all, staying in the room near the lab to get all the news as soon as possible. He walked around the room for hours, overthinking everything—what will happen if you die or if you survive? Is it really better for you to wake up and see all the damage that he has done for the past years? To see the empty shell of the person you loved in the past?
“Barnes!” Tony blasted through the doors with a grin on his face. “We did it.”
“You did it?” Bucky’s whole body was buzzing with energy and anxiety. “Where is she? Is she alive? Is she conscious? Can I see her?”
“Wow-wow, calm down. She is alive, but you can’t see or visit her right now. Dr. Cho has to run many tests to find out whether your lovebird is healthy or not.” Tony nodded his head toward the corridor so Bucky would follow him. “We put each of them into a different room, and your Blonde Bestie insisted on putting Y/N into the best and the biggest one. There is a special window through which you can see her, but she cannot see you from the inside. So you can be as creepy as you want to until she gets better.” Stark slapped Bucky on the shoulder to show some kind of support when they stopped in front of the said window. 
You were lying on the bed, surrounded by too many wires and monitors. Dr. Cho was standing above you, writing something down, and checking the device near your head.
She said something aloud, probably talking to FRIDAY, and came out of the room. 
“Oh, Mr.Barnes, I heard that Y/N was your girlfriend, right?” She smiled, and Bucky slightly nodded, not being able to completely drag his attention from your body. “I’ll tell you this: it’s my most difficult and unique case, but she’s a strong one. Her body heals faster than other people’s from cryo. I believe she’ll be fully awake tomorrow.” 
“Thank you, Dr.Cho.” Bucky felt a little bit better now that he had more hope that you could really be back. Dr.Cho gave him another smile and left to check on her other patients. 
“I have to find out if these people have families. Did Y/N have someone who might be alive?” Tony asked. 
“No, she didn’t.”
“I’ll go, and you, Barnes, will stay away from her for now, understood?” He pointed a finger into Bucky’s face. 
“Yes. I’ll just watch from here.” 
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You were alive. You were awake. Bucky saw with his own eyes as your body started moving and you slowly sat on the bed, confused by your surroundings. He saw panic on your face because you were clearly disoriented and scared to be alone in an unknown place. 
As fast as he could, he found Dr. Cho, who was in the room with Steve and Natasha. When he, choking on all the emotions, told them about you, it was a mess. 
Dr. Cho and a few other nurses ran to your room to check your condition because you were the first one to open your eyes.
Bucky, Steve, and Nat stood on the other side of the window. Bucky wasn’t able to fully convince himself that it was true that you were so close to him. It felt like a dream, like a weird picture that his brain created to comfort him. 
“She’s okay, Buddy.” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder because it seemed like he didn’t even blink or breathe. “You can see her soon.”
“No.” He mumbled.
“What?” His friend’s head shot in his direction.
“Someone else should talk to her first. Tell her about my past. Maybe she won’t even want to see me after everything I’ve done.”
“I can go and talk to her first.” Natasha softly smiled. She knew the feeling when you’re afraid that someone will leave you because of your past. “I think it’s better for Y/N to first find out that she woke up in the new century and that she was cryofrozen for many years. I’ll tell her that Steve is alive, and then me and you can both tell her about Bucky.” 
Bucky just nodded to her words, still not being able to look at anything besides you. He wasn’t sure that after you find out all the truth, you’ll allow him to even be around you, so for now, he tried to memorize you as much as he could. 
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Since the moment you opened your eyes, everything felt unknown and different. You couldn’t explain it, but something had changed. You didn’t know where you were, what time it was, how you ended up in that place, or who all these people were. You felt scared as too many doctors crowded your room and fussed around, talking about tests and medical procedures. 
The young woman who seemed to be in charge was actually really sweet. After only you and her were left in the room, she sat on your bed with a pile of clothes in her hands and smiled at you. 
“So, Y/N, my name is Dr. Cho, and I’m here to help you heal faster and without any consequences.” 
“Where am I?” Your voice was too raspy and harsh. It felt like you swallowed a glass of sand. 
She sighed, looking at her journal. “It’s hard to explain, but I promise that there’s nothing to worry about. You are safe. In a few minutes, someone will visit you to talk about everything and answer any of your questions. Now, I was told to give you these clothes so it would be more comfortable for you. You can change in the bathroom right there; there is also anything you might need like a toothbrush, soap, and so on.” She pointed at the door in the corner of the room. 
You stayed silent until Dr. Cho left your room, and then slowly, feeling kind of scared to move around this place, you went to the bathroom to change out of the hospital gown. 
The bathroom looked even weirder than the main room; you had never seen such furniture and interiors. And when you unfolded your new clothes, it took you a few seconds to figure it out. It was some kind of soft pants and a large t-shirt. What kind of clothes was it? Yes, they were actually comfortable, but it wasn’t something that you saw in the stores. 
While you were brushing your teeth, your brain was working too hard trying to figure out what the hell was going on, until you heard someone calling your name. 
“Hey, Y/N, my name is Natasha.” The pretty red-headed woman was standing near your bed with a tray and food in her hands. 
“Please, tell me what’s going on. Where am I? Why does everything look so strange here?” You said in a desperate voice, you almost wanted to scream because you woke up several hours ago, but no one told you a single thing.
“Don’t be nervous, honey. Let's sit on the bed; you’ll eat your special meal, and I’ll tell you everything you want.” She was so nice and genuine, so you nodded and sat down. 
Natasha placed a tray near you, and you saw that it was your favorite food of all time. You took a bite, and your taste buds were immediately filled with the taste of the meal that James cooked you almost every day. James. It was his recipe. The tears flooded your eyes when all of the memories about your dead boyfriend returned to your head. Yeah, how could you forget that it had been at least two years since he was gone? 
“Y/N? What happened?” Natasha’s worried voice distracted you. 
“It just reminded me of someone. I felt like I was home, and it hurts me because nothing is the same anymore.” You wiped your tears away, taking another bite. 
“I promise you that everything is going to be okay. You are not alone here.” You frowned at her words but still nodded. “So ask whatever you want to.” 
“Where am I, and why does everything look so different?”
“You are at the Avengers Tower, located in Manhattan, New York City. I know that might sound ridiculous, but you were in the cryostasis chamber up until now. It’s 2023, and a lot of things have changed in the world; that's why it might be confusing.”
You stayed silent for a few seconds, overthinking Natasha’s words. “It can’t be true. I can’t be more than one hundred years old now. And I look the same.” 
“This is how cryostasis works—it freezes the body so it can survive many years without any changes. Now tell me how you ended up with Hydra. What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?” 
“Back in the 40s, I was a nurse. My– my boyfriend— he died during the war.” You stopped because of the lump in your throat. It was too hard to bring back these memories because it was the first time you said these words out loud. “He died, and then my closest friend died too, and I just had no one left. I was alone, and I didn’t even know what to live for because all of my dreams about family and a happy life with the person I loved died too.” Natasha put her hand over yours on the bed and gave you a supportive squeeze. “Then one day in our hospital, scientists were looking for people who would like to test new serums. I decided that I had nothing to lose, so me and a few other nurses signed in.” 
“Kathleen, Josh, Adam, and Frank, right?” The woman in front of you gave you a sad smile.
“Yes, how do you know that?” 
“We found them with you. Adam’s camera was broken, so he died a long time ago, but the rest of them are here too, but, unfortunately, they haven’t regained consciousness yet.” 
You nodded. Your food was now done and set aside, and you sat on the bed more comfortably, bringing your knees to your chest. “These scientists were running some tests on us in the lab that they brought us in. It felt weird, and I remember that Kathleen always complained that it was painful. The last thing that happened was that they told us to step into a weird-looking machine that was meant to be a part of some kind of experiment. That’s it.”
“It was Hydra. A terrorist organization that tried to rule the world. They were evil, and you were lucky to get out of there alive.” Natasha pursed her lips. “Thank you for telling me this.” 
You two sat in silence for a few seconds until she looked over her shoulder at the weird-looking mirror that took up almost a whole wall. 
“Is anything wrong?” You furrowed.
“I have to tell and show you something really important, but everyone is worried about how you are going to react to this.” She studied your face with a weird expression. 
“Is there anything more crazy than me being in another century after I was frozen?” You tried to smile, but Natasha just nodded. 
“I’ll be right back. Please, try to breathe, okay?” She stood from your bed, took the tray, and left. 
Natasha came back, and behind her was the last person you ever expected to see again. You jumped on your feet, feeling like your eyes were lying to you. 
“This—this can’t be true... No, Natasha—Steve, you died.” You mumbled under your breath. Your heart rate was way higher than usual, and it felt like you were drowning. You put your hand over your eyes, as your body started shaking. It’s just a dream. It’s just a weird fucking dream.
Two large hands wrapped around your body, pulling you into the hard chest. “Sh-s, Y/N, breathe, just breathe.” His familiar voice filled your ears, and you started crying harder, gripping his shirt. He was rocking you from side to side like a baby, while your tears and sobs filled the silent room.
“What– how– how is this possible? You crushed the plane into ice.” You shattered, tears running down your face.
“The Super Soldier serum saved me. The S.H.I.E.L.D. found my body 12 years ago.” Steve loosened his arms around you, allowing you to look up at him. He was exactly the same. This blonde hair, these light blue eyes, and that soft smile that he always had for you. “Please, sit back on the bed. We have a lot to talk about.” His face was now more serious. Even though he was extremely happy to get back his second closest best friend, he knew that Bucky was dying without you.
Steve and Bucky both looked at your interaction with Natasha, and it was obvious that everything Bucky wanted was for you to be near him. He looked through that window without any distraction, and his face lit up with a small smile when you tasted the food that he cooked for you and became emotional. He knew that you would appreciate it.
“About what?” You wiped your face with the back of your hand and sat down, holding Steve's hand. Natasha, who was still standing in the middle of the room, passed him a thick folder and left. Steve sat near you and gave you a supportive smile. 
“Bucky.” 
You froze and snatched your hand out of his. 
“Steve, no. Please—” You wrapped your hands around your body, as if you were instantly trying to hide from the pain that was aching in your chest. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore. I can’t handle that. Talking about him w-when he’s not with me anymore.” The sods started to get out of you, and you hid your face from Steve’s soft and apologizing eyes.
“He is alive.” Steve’s hands fell on your shoulders, and he lowered his head, trying to make you look him in the eyes.
“Don’t lie to me! He is dead; I saw the reports; I got the letter from Phillips saying that he’s sorry for our loss!” You particularly yelled at your friend. 
“Y/N, listen to me, okay? Bucky is alive. He is here. Behind that door, he’s watching us right now.” You were shaking your head in denial. 
That was impossible. You knew all this story; Steve himself told you what happened that day. There was no chance for Bucky to survive the fall from that height in the middle of nowhere. Yet here was Steve, sitting right before you. His big blue and soft eyes were looking into your eyes, and you didn’t see a single sign of hesitation or lying in there. He was so genuine that you wanted to believe that your boyfriend was, in fact, a few meters away from you.
“How? And why? James– he would’ve been with me if he were alive. Why isn’t he here?” You sobbed, and then the realization came to you. “That food—the food that Natsha brought me. It tasted exactly like he made it.”
“Bucky thought that it might comfort you. He found you in that laboratory, he has been near you since that day, and he saw that you were scared and disoriented when you woke up. And that's why I am here. Bucky insisted that I should talk to you first and tell you everything. He is afraid that you might not see him anymore after finding out everything that is written here.” Steve picked up the folder and put it on your lap. 
“The Winter Soldier” was written on top of the old-looking piece of paper, and for some reason you felt something weird in your chest.
“I want to let you know that whatever is in here, it cannot make me hate him.” You mumbled, hesitating to open the folder. “What’s in there, Steve? Tell me everything.”
“These are the papers that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra had on the Winter Soldier. Everything that happened to him: experiments, torture, assassinations, crimes. This is what happened to Bucky after the fall. This is what Hydra did to him over these years.” 
You felt a lump in your throat when you opened the first page and saw Bucky’s photo from the army. But nothing prepared you for everything you read and saw after that. He wasn’t even James or Bucky anymore. He was a Soldier. An Asset. Someone without an identity. All the detailed descriptions of the medical procedures, brainwashing, electroshock, torture, and punishments with attached photos made you want to vomit and cry hysterically. You couldn’t stop crying when your shaking hands took a picture of the love of your life sitting shirtless and unconscious on some kind of stool with wires attached to his head. 
How could someone do that? How could someone torture a person almost to death and then just write about it like it was a fucking dairy? 
“His arm, it’s metal. Why is it made from metal?” Your teary-red eyes shoot back to Steve’s face. 
“Bucky lost it during the fall. They gave him a new one, but it causes him a lot of pain. Physical and mental.”
“I don’t— Steve, I don’t understand.” You took another picture with Bucky standing in his full black costume and a mask, not a single emotion on his face. “Why did they do this? For what?” 
“Hydra wanted to have the perfect asset. Killing machine. To commit crimes, kill unwanted people, and basically rule the world.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking at the floor. “They made Bucky the best. They completely cleared his head from the memories of his past; they trained him to be invincible and invisible. They had a special combination of words to control him, so he would always come back and do as he was told.”
You closed the file and moved it aside, closing your face with your hands while you were crying.
“And he thinks that I can reject him?” You whispered.
“Y/N, please try to understand what such things can do to your brain. Bucky goes to therapy, but he probably would never be able to fully heal from this experience.” His hand fell on your shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “Bucky always was a good person; that's why right now he feels so much guilt that it’s unimaginable. Even if nothing of this is his fault, he can’t forgive himself for these murders and damage. He has PTSD, nightmares, and a lot of trust issues.”
“I understand, but I would’ve never rejected him. He’s everything that I had, and when I lost him, it felt like hell.” You took a deep breath, looking Steve in the eyes. “Please, let me see him. I need it, and he needs it too.” Steve’s eyes softened at you. He almost forgot the love that his two best friends had for each other. 
“Give me a minute, okay?” He smiled, kissed your head, and left your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You were really going to see the man that you thought you had lost forever in a few seconds. It was almost three years for you, but almost eighty for him. A wave of anxiety washed over you when you thought that maybe he doesn’t feel the same anymore and doesn’t have the same feelings as you do. You almost went down a rabbit hole until the door started to open. 
You slowly stood up, feeling a little bit uneasy. Even though you and Steve were just talking about it, seeing Bucky alive felt unreal. Your eyes were sliding up and down his face to remember every little part. He looked different, more mature, with a broad chest and shoulders and long, silky hair. 
Bucky’s heart was pounding in his ears, and his mouth was completely dry while you were observing him. You had tears in your eyes, and your lower lip was trembling when you tried to hold yourself from crying out loud. You were in some baggy clothes that Nat found for you, but you still looked fucking gorgeous. Still the most beautiful girl on the whole planet. 
“Doll…” Bucky’s raspy voice filled the room, and it was everything you needed. 
In just a second, you ran to him, falling right into his body. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your face hidden into his neck. 
As soon as Bucky finally hugged your smaller body and felt that it was real and that you were real, he broke down. Every last piece of strength went through the window as the tears rolled down his cheeks, probably soaking your t-shirt.
He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness for all of the awful things that he had done. He didn’t deserve you anymore, not with this much blood on his hands. But Bucky couldn’t do what he wanted because your grip on him was so strong that he wasn’t even able to move away for an inch. 
“James…” Your quiet voice filled his ears, and it sent shivers down his spine. Only you and his ma called him that, and he missed it so fucking much.
Bucky’s hands moved from your waist a little bit lower, and you viewed it as an opportunity to get even closer. Your legs instantly wrapped around his body, and Bucky, making sure that you wouldn’t fall, went to the bed and sat down with you on his knees. 
“I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done.” He sobbed, shaking his head. You pulled away a little bit, finally meeting Bucky face-to-face. 
“Don’t you dare apologize for the things that you weren’t able to control, James!” Your voice suddenly became rough, filled with so much anger toward the people who hurt your precious boy. His hand on your waist tightened, and you slid your own to cup Bucky’s face. “I want to kill every one of them. Everyone who hurt you, who punished you,” Soft fingertips traced the delicate skin of the templates where, as you remember from the photos, wires with electricity were placed. “You didn’t deserve to go through this, James. I wish I was there for you.” 
“You were always with me. Even when they wiped me, I still had someone in my head. A woman with a soft voice, who told me that I'm strong and that it will end soon. I would’ve died without it.” You both were looking into each other's teary eyes, both feeling too much love and desire. 
Your head slightly tilted towards his, connecting your foreheads, and for a few seconds, it felt like home. Like nothing happened and you two were just having a lazy morning in bed.
The calloused hand on the side of your face brought you back to reality. Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes were looking into yours, and, sharing one thought, you both moved closer and connected your lips. The kiss was so soft, slow, and gentle, like you had the whole time in the world. It was this type of kiss that said that you both were there and alive. It was a reminder of the love that you had for each other. Reassurance, that no matter what, you will be there.
“I missed you so fucking much, doll. Since the day I first remembered everything, all I could think about was you. Even tried to find you, but there was not a single document. I started to believe that you just found a man, changed your last name, and moved away from that mess.” You were so close to each other, not wanting to split up even for a second. Your hands were moving up and down Bucky’s hard chest while he was rubbing the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.
“Are you joking, James? No one was able to replace you. The only people I talked to during that time were your mom and Becca.” His facial expression slightly changed at the mention of his family, and you placed a soft kiss on his stubble cheek. “I should’ve been the one who took care of them, but I was nothing without you, and Winnie almost made me move in with them. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to be a volunteer for these tests.” 
Bucky shook his head, his eyes again full of regret and pain. “I hate that it happened because of me.”
“At least I’m here right now. With you.” You smiled, sliding your hand into his dark, long locks. “You know, James, you look really good for someone who’s older than one hundred years old. I like your hair. And stubble.” His eyes rolled back at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him without an intention to hurt him, and the realization of that made your heart swell with the need to take care of your boyfriend. 
“You know that you’re one year younger than me, right?” Your favorite little smirk in the whole world appeared on Bucky’s lips, and you smiled, moving a little bit closer to his body. The metal hand on your waist tightened, and you realized that you hadn't seen it in person yet. 
Your right hand reached behind you, grabbing a hard wrist that was covered in leather. Bucky’s body immediately froze under you, and his eyes snapped open. 
“Doll, no… You don’t have to...” 
“I want to. Give me your hand, James.” You said without any hesitation. Bucky looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, but then brought his metal hand between your bodies. “It’s just me, okay? I’m not scared, and I want to know everything.” You wrapped both of your hands around his hand and then gently started to take off the glove. 
The dark metal with beautiful golden stripes was shining under the bright light of the room. Your mouth slightly opened when you moved each finger with interest. Your gentle hands slid higher, rolling up the sleeve of the red henley Bucky was wearing. It was so smooth, without any sharp details, just an amazing and mind-blowing mechanism. 
“That’s so beautiful.” You mumbled in awe. Suddenly the plates under your hands moved, and a quiet whirring sound filled the room. You shot your eyes back at Bucky in shock, only to see that he was already looking at you with so much love that you almost melted. “Did you do that?” 
“It’s a new arm, not from Hydra. It reacts to my emotions. No one ever touched it without any fear.” You almost missed that last sentence, but the hurt in Bucky’s voice made you grab his face with your hands to get his whole attention.
“Listen to me, James. I’m not afraid of you. I won’t reject you. You are everything that I want. You still have the biggest and kindest heart of the guy that I met many years ago, and I’ll do everything to prove to you this.” The metal hand carefully touched your hand on the side of his face. “I love you. I love you so much, James.”
“I love you too, Doll. More than anything in this life,” Your lips crushed into each other, now sharing a more passionate and deep kiss. You slightly tilted your head, allowing Bucky to part your lips with his tongue and playfully bite you. It was almost too overwhelming, and you both were completely lost in each other until you finally needed to breathe. 
“Stay here with me, please. I don’t want you to leave.” You whined, trying to push your big and strong super soldier onto the bed. 
“I won’t leave, baby.” He chuckled, allowing you to push him back. You happily giggled and laid near him, interlacing your bodies together. 
You two were just staying in your own little bubble on your bed for what seemed like forever, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, until you finally fell asleep, feeling happy and peaceful in each other's arms.  
2K notes · View notes
hairmetal666 · 1 year
Text
The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.
It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:
"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."
His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.
"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.
"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."
He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.
---
The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.
---
The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.
Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"
"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.
Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."
Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.
"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."
The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"
"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.
Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.
"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.
"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.
"This is really good, Will."
Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"
"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"
"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"
Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"
"Really?" Their eyes light up.
"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."
"Cool," says Dustin.
He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.
Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.
"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.
He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."
"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.
"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.
"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"
"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"
"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"
"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."
They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."
The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."
Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.
---
He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.
---
His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.
"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.
"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.
He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"
She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."
He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.
"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."
"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"
They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."
El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."
"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.
---
Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.
Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."
---
He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.
Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).
"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"
"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"
"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.
Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."
"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.
"What's wrong?"
"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."
"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.
He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"
And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."
"What?"
"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"
"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"
"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."
Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.
"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."
"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.
"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."
"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.
"Um. Yes?"
Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"
"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.
---
Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.
Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"
"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."
"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."
"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"
Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.
Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.
"It's not funny!" Steve says.
That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."
Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.
Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.
"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.
"What, like, make them think they failed?"
"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."
Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"
"Why don't you get over here and see."
As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.
4K notes · View notes
stranger-nightmare · 2 years
Text
𝐀𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ~ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐
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strictly 18+ only // content warnings should be on each link
forwarning: obviously the voices aren’t going to sound exactly like the actors / characters so I’ve gone more for how the vibes and attitudes fit with the characters, you’ll just have to use your imagination tbh my darlings!!
these are intended for female / afab listeners
other than that go wild and happy listening my loves
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Eddie Munson
Eddie making you cum for the first time
topping a secretly insecure Eddie
Eddie trying to be rough for the first time
fucking Eddie after a dnd game
you and Eddie’a first time together
Eddie ‘I don’t think I can be gentle with you tonight’ Munson
getting high and fucking at a party
best friend Eddie finds your reddit page…
bad boy Eddie and bitchy miss popular
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Steve Harrington
your first time with Steve
friends to lovers with Steve (this mentions stranger things so it’s kinda meta lmao)
having a quickie in a closet at a party
your friend Steve catches you masturbating
Steve thinking about you and jerking off
rich boy Steve fucking you in his library
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Billy Hargrove
stripping for Billy
Billy puts bratty kitten reader in their place
Billy watching / helping you fuck yourself
hatefucking your ex Billy
Billy fucking you at a party (this one really sounds like him I’m screaming)
watching a scary movie with Billy leads to other things...
cheating on your boyfriend, Billy fucking you in a park
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Robin Buckley
enemies to lovers / hate fucking Robin
you and Robin hookup at a lake house getaway
thanking Robin for helping you study
taking care of Robin, her calling you mommy
encouraging you take a break from work, helping you destress
Robin showering her shy girlfriend with praise and affection
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Nancy Wheeler
brat tamer Nancy teaching you patience
dom Nancy lets you ride her boot
playing truth or dare leads you to hooking up
a ‘tutor’ session with Nancy
getting dressed all pretty for Nancy
you and Nancy escape a party so you can hookup
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Jonathan Byers
taking Jonathan’s virginity
Jonathan eating you out whilst you work
encouraging you to come back to bed
edging sub Jonathan
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link to search website yourself 
main masterlist // stranger things masterlist // stranger things audio list part one // stranger things audio list - other characters
p.s. I will keep adding more as and when I find them / when they’re sent to me
on that note, if you find any you think would fit the characters please do feel free to send them my way so I can add them to the list!!
tagging: @mothdruid @chaoticvigilantes @simp-lyme @brighteyedbushybrowed @haiishodenki @botanicalbarnes @dreamerlandz @kaitioo @multixfandomwriter @courtneyslove @elenarenee07 @anxiously-sidequesting @stargazineyes @celestbarnes @allthecurls-misc @luv-flor7777 @eddiemunsonswife21 @edensbuttercups @thegreatkneetaker @prettyboy-20 @brynnwrites
23K notes · View notes
caxde · 4 months
Text
yellow | steve harrington x reader
summary you're Dustin's older sister, you used to go out with Steve, but the distance broke you off, you're back in Hopkins, for good, and destiny makes you bump into eachother. (3.9k)
warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn exes! to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
-
“Since when do you own this?” Dustin asked as he pulled a yellow crewneck out of one of the boxes. 
“Oh, uh…” You hadn’t seen it in a while. It fell on your hands as Dustin gave it to you, the softness of the fabric still holds a reminder of his cologne. “It’s not mine, it’s Steve’s.” 
He grew quiet for a second, looking at you intensely. They were still friends, Steve had seen him grow up, and was close to him, almost like a brother, and when you broke things off, you begged him to not leave him. He kept his promise, he always did. 
“Sorry.” He muttered, an apologetic look stayed on his face even when he stopped looking at you, you shook your head. He didn’t need to apologise, not to you anyway. 
“How is he?” The curiosity always took the best of you, and you had left quite some time ago, not really thinking about him. Running away so you wouldn’t have to think about a broken heart. 
“I haven’t told him that you came back home.” Your little brother blurted out, with a grin on his face, letting you know he is really glad that you’re actually back, his way of telling you he’d missed you. “He’s doing good. He’s working, and he went back to studying… He’s happy.” He smiled back at you, seeing how your face was no longer expressing grief or melancholy, but a pleasant smile. 
You were unsure of a lot of things, but one thing that you were certain of, he deserves all of the happiness in the world. 
“That’s nice to know.” Your attention went back to the sweater. The coldness of the night he left it to you seemed to reach your fingertips, and the warmth of the memory reached your gut, butterflies that you thought dead flew for a second. “You should give it back to him.” You added, lifting your head up to look at him. 
“You sure?” Even if he was the youngest, he always treated you in such a delicate manner, it made you softer, you had missed him. 
“Yeah, it’s been long enough.” You chuckled as you said it, and he nodded along. You hadn’t been home in years, hadn’t seen him in two of those. 
“I’m meeting him in a bit, I can give it to him then.” You nod, and he mouths a soft okey before leaving the room. 
You had a moment, for the first time since you had arrived back home, where you were alone. No music, no noise, no one else with you. 
You left so you could go to college, that was your excuse. Then he broke up with you, the distance only exposed other problems, in both of you. When you did break up, he told you that he still loved you, but it wasn’t enough. 
The echo of his words still with you, it isn’t enough, am i not enough? 
The sweetness of his voice shocked with his broken tone, tears fell from his eyes when he said goodbye. That was the last weekend you came down, and you had been avoiding coming back ever since. 
The walls of your room were empty, the new coat of paint now dry, half full boxes of clothes and shoes and memorabilia were scattered around the floor, the bed half done, the cover still having to be put. It seemed like a new beginning, a new chance for yourself. 
Not a lot of people knew you were back. Dustin knew, of course. It had been funny seeing him finally drive, his hands still a bit insecure behind the wheel, but he looked so happy being able to pick his sister from the airport, it had made you beam with happiness when you saw him.
And you had called Eddie as soon as you woke up today. He was ecstatic, begging you to come to a party tonight, telling you that he’d come pick you up as soon as his shift at the garage was done. You knew he’d missed you, even if he’d come often to the city, and vent over everything he had going on. Avoiding to bring him up, even if you did. 
So you laid down on your floor, staring at the same ceiling you did as you grew up in that same house. 
Before you were aware of what you were doing, or why, a pen rested on your hand, scribbling down on a piece of paper. 
Hey, I’m sorry it took this long to give it back, guess I wasn’t ready to let you go. Maybe I’ll never be. I hope you’re happy, and that you have everything you deserve. I’m also sorry if it stinks of me, it has been with me for a while now. Bye. 
PS. Don’t be a stranger. I’m here if you need me. 
You signed it, and folded it one too many times before dropping it inside the little bag that had his sweater in it, the green clashing with the yellow fabric. 
Dustin grabbed it before he left, you smiled when you heard that his car sounded the same. 
-
Loud music, sweaty people and colorful lights. 
Your drink was empty, it had been for a while.
Eddie smiled while he danced and took a sip of his drink, happy that you’re finally back, his head swinging back and forth. His attention was split, between you and an unknown blonde girl that was on the bar. You smiled when you caught her staring. 
“You’ve got a fan Edds.” You chuckled as you teased him. Raising your voice so he could hear you. 
“Who?” 
“The blonde”
“I don’t think that’ll work.” He laughed, his shyness coming in as it always did when the attention was on him. 
“I think it will if you actually go talk to her… buy her a drink?” You shake your head in her direction, he knows you’re actually telling him it’s okay, you can go, i’m okay. 
“Sure?” 
“Yeah, I’ll go to the other bar and get a drink, wait for you there.” He nodded, and you smiled as you saw him blush. 
He looked back at her, he rubbed his chin in a nervous manner, before actually walking over to her. You laughed at him, smiling deeply seeing your friend acting the same he always had. 
As you shook your head to yourself, stifling another laugh you left him on his own, Eddie flirted better when you weren’t around anyway. You started walking to the other bar area, the only problem, you had to find your way through the dance floor before you could reach it. You looked at the people there, all of them dancing mindlessly, some couples that had been formed, kissing or dancing together -it always made you smile, seeing people loving each other, publicly, without fear- and some doing what you were doing, looking around while downing their drink. 
You were halfway through, when you saw him. 
Everything else became fuzzy, the only clear image in your vision was him, wearing the yellow sweater. 
Steve saw you too. 
And time seemed to stop for a moment, and before it started again, there was a few seconds of slow motion. His hair flicking to the beat of the music, as his lips curved upwards at the sight of you, his eyes softening. He’d missed seeing you. He looks the same he did. You thought, though taller, broader, happier. 
Before you knew it, you were face to face. 
You didn’t say anything. You just looked at each other. Years of not seeing him, of avoiding him, it all didn’t matter now. His smile had the same effect on you as it always had, melting you on the spot. He broke the distance, and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in close for a hug, your arms laying behind his neck, your fingers stroking his hair. 
I miss you. 
“Hi.” Steve whispered into your ear. An excited but yet calm tone could be heard in his tone. 
“Hi.” You whispered back, holding on to him for a second longer before pulling back. 
“Dustin told me you came back.” He raised his voice now that your head was no longer close to him. “I didn’t think I’d see you today.”
“I can tell.” You joked, as you grabbed his sweater, and you saw him chuckle in response. 
“D’you wanna go out? And talk?” He pointed at where the exit was. Of course you wanted to, you almost felt like you needed to. Hear his voice for once, not just remember it. 
As soon as you nodded, he started to head out, grabbing your hand as he passed in front of you. The same tingling feeling comes back to you, as if it was the first time you went on a date with him. The excited nervousness, the hopefulness, the wishing. 
Cold air hitted your chest, even if it was an unseasonably warm night, you blamed the alcohol because anything else would be too confusing, and you were really trying to not get too much into your head. Not now, when he was standing against the wall and his pretty brown eyes were fixed deep into yours. 
“So, how have you been?” He broke the silence, and the moment of admiration between the both of you. 
“Good.” You smile shyly to yourself. “I’ve been good.” 
“How did the big city treat you?” 
“Chicago is… Interesting.” You chuckled, as you scratched your forehead. He knew that was your anxious tick, the way you had when you had too many thoughts swimming around inside your mind. “Uh… You’d hate deep dish pizza.” 
He laughed, and the little butterfly hidden in your stomach came alive again. Warmness and goosebumps on your skin. 
“I did hate it.” He recalls, looking up for a moment, the street lights shining on him. He looks like a statue, you thought, unaware of how pretty he is.
“When did you try it?” 
“I was waiting for one of your classes to end, got hungry and saw a little place that was selling them, disgusting.” He shook his head in a funny manner, it made you giggle, so he did it again, wanting to hear you again. 
“I ended up liking it, y’know.” 
“Of course you did.” He teased, a finger poking your cheek, your face leaning into his touch. 
“You get used to it.” You shrugged, your hand reaching for your purse, searching for the pack of Marlboros you knew you had. 
“You’re good at that.” He grinned as his eyes became softer, he couldn’t stop looking you up and down. “You’re good at everything.”
“‘M not.” You laughed as you took a cigarette out, placing it between your lips. “I still can’t cook as good as you can.” 
“You miss my cooking?” He raised his eyebrows as he asked, a cheeky grin on his lips. 
“I dream about those meatballs you made.” You confessed, trying to hide your truthfulness with a giggle, that he saw through. His head tilted back for a moment, as his Adam's apple moved as he sifted a laugh. 
“D’you remember when I tried to teach you how to make Napolitanian pizza from scratch?” You started to laugh at the memory, failing to light your cigarette, hiding your face on the palm of your hand. 
His heart started to beat again, louder, stronger, faster. If you weren’t too busy trying to quiet yours down, you’d hear it.  
“God… I ended up covered in flour.” 
“Your hair was all white.” His tone softented, as did his eyes. His body seemed to be closer to yours, itching for contact. “I missed that laugh.” He finally confessed, even if the thought had been on his mind since he first heard it that night. 
“You did?” 
“Yeah, I missed you too.” 
It happened then. The wave of nervousness, relieved in an instance. 
He missed me. Hemissed me. Hemissedme. 
The excitement that came with it, the realisation that what you felt in some way was reciprocated. And that the complicated feelings were felt by the both of you. 
“Really?” Your voice was full of hope, your eyes shining bright at him. 
“Yeah.” He was blushing now, as he smiled. A wide upside down grin that made your stomach flutter. “Did you?”
“Of course I did.” 
How could you not? He has been the best person that has ever stood by you. Even if things had ended, you could only remember the good times, the fun times, the soft ones. How loved he made you feel every single day. How wanted. How cared for. 
“When we broke things off…” You started to rumble, as smoke escaped through your lips, finally having ignited the cig. “It wasn’t because I didn’t love you anymore.” 
“I know.” He muttered, his tone letting it known that he had a knot in his throat. “I still loved you.” 
“Yeah.” You looked up at him, your hand reaching for his, a needed familiar contact came back. “I needed to be okay.”
“Are you?” You knew he was worried about your answer, in a weird way, Steve never had stopped caring about you. And neither had you. 
“I am.” You nodded, the curve your lips made made him know that you couldn’t be lying. “I don’t have panic attacks every night, I’m fine being on my own. Honestly.” 
“I believe you.” His hand squeezed yours, the soft touch telling you he trusted you, implicitly. You felt yourself falling back into him. “And I’m proud of you, really.” 
“I’m proud of you too.” You finally took a step closer to him, your legs touching and a love sick grin on both of your faces. “Dustin told me you’re studying.” 
“Yeah well… I finally decided, I guess…” 
Even if your attention was on nothing else but him, when the doors opened and people started to come back to the street, smelling of alcohol, smoke and sweat. A chattering invaded the quiet street, and your focus changed. 
“Shit.” Your eyes were scanning the multitude, trying to find Eddie, or the blonde girl, or any of her friends. 
“What?” Steve’s eyebrow furrowed again, not really knowing why the swarm of people had made your demeanor change. Your hand letting his go, your body taking a step back. 
“I came with Edds… Do you see him?” 
“Oh, you’re with him?” You scoffed at the question, rolling your eyes lightheartedly, as you shook your head no. Steve nodded as the smallest grin appeared. A relief appeared in his face, and you chuckled at his question and reaction. 
“He’s a friend.” You still were trying to find him, people kept passing you by, taller, shorter and drunker. “D’you see him?” 
“No.” 
Steve left his hand on your shoulder, asking for your attention, knowing that you were getting into your head, and you were worrying too much too soon. And he also knew that once you felt his touch, your shoulders would relax and drop. Your mind stopped spinning. 
“D’you remember where he parked?” As soon as he speaks you feel grounded. You nodded, and he replicated the movement. “We’ll wait for him there then, come on.” 
You started walking, comfortable silence was one of your favourite things. Just knowing that he was there made you feel better, glancing at him from time to time, catching him staring at you everytime you did so. Making your lips curve everytime you catch him. 
The van wasn’t there. 
“Fuck.” 
“He left?” His tone was a bit agressive now, not at you, if anything he just was protective, so in consequence he seemed pissed that he had left you stranded. Alone. 
“I’m guessing he got lucky with the blonde.” You chuckled out of nervousness. Your hand playing with your hair, placing a strand of it behind your ear, trying to look everywhere but him. “S’fine, I’ll just call a taxi and wake Dustin up.”
“Shut up.” He scoffed, his arms crossing in front of his chest, looking down at you, a look of decision in his eyes. There was no way you were going home alone. “I’ll drive you, c’mon.” 
“I don’t have my keys.” You mumbled. “Dustin has mine. I was supposed to sleep over.”
“Then you’ll sleep over. Let’s go.” His hand reached out, an invitation you weren’t sure you should take, but do anyway. 
-
The car ride had been filled by music, and soft touches. Loving stares, and nervous chuckles. 
It really did feel like old times. 
It didn’t help that his house smelled the same, and time seemed to not move in the Harrington household. 
The only difference was the most noticeable of them all. All of the family pictures had been put down. 
“You changed it up.” You whispered as soon as you walked in, seeing the bare walls, were paint was darker where frames used to be. 
“They don’t live here anymore. So…” You knew he wanted to tell you about it, just as much as you knew he didn’t want to talk about it now, so you just nodded, and he understood what you knew. Words weren’t even necessary. 
“Who does?” You changed the topic, slightly, once you saw a jacket that wasn’t his hanged on the wall. 
“Robin.” He smiled, his face relaxing and becoming brighter. “Her parents didn’t really get the whole… uh… liking girls things.”
“Right, how is she?” You had wanted to reach out to her, but you weren’t sure if she’d wanted to hear from you, you worried, and Steve’s voice echoed in your head you worry too much.
“She missed you.” He confessed with a smile, starting to climb up the stairs, finding his way to his bedroom, you followed him closely. “We all did, I guess.” 
His head hung low for a second, remorse in his voice. Looking back at you for a moment before he turned on his bedroom light, his skin glistened under the moonlight that sneaked through his window. You smiled, seeing him in this light again, with the same background that you had becomed so familiar with once before. 
His walls where still the same colour, and bedsheets were still stripped. It smelled and felt the same as it had always done, and for a moment -however brief- you were back in time. 
You were eighteen again, and you were sneaking into his room for the first time again. 
The orangy bedside table filled the room again, and Steve had his boyish grin that had made you fall in love with him all those years ago. He looked at you, fondly, lovingly, melancholically, as you looked around, noticing the new photos on the wall. 
“Most of them are from Jonathan, some of them are your brother’s” You chuckled as you carefully looked at all of them, seeing what he had been up to. 
Him working at Family Video with Robin, him with his hands on his hips, apron on and full of flour with a rag over his left shoulder. Him asleep on the back of Eddie’s van. 
And your favourite one, Steve laing on your bed, looking straight through the camera, a smile that he was hiding behind his arm still evident by the way his face looks, barely woken up. You took that one, when he came to visit you, before you ended things. 
“You looked really beautiful.” You whisper, a tone of sadness could be noted on your voice. But your body relaxed when you felt him stepping closer to yours. 
“I don’t anymore?” He halved joked, the same lovesick look all over his face, his hair falling messily now that he had took his sweatshirt, hanging it back to you. A gesture that said you’re always cold before sleeping, you can wear it.
“Thanks.” You mutter before taking it, your body feeling his warmth through that piece of clothing. “You do. You always are.” 
He stood there for a second, and you could tell he wanted to say something he didn’t quite have the courage to do so. 
“What?” 
“Nothing.” He answered, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed. You scoffed as you shook your head. He knew that you were saying don’t lie, i know you better than anyone. “Think I’m still drunk.” 
“Maybe.” You admit with a half laugh, as you feel the weight of the alcohol that you did drink, and how it had swapped for tiredness not that the clock was closer to four. “You still have something in your mind.” 
“Yeah.” He stepped closer to you. His voice was softer, quieter, sweeter. And his eyes couldn’t stop looking at yours. Well, that might have been a lie, he did look at your lips once or twice. His hand reached for yours, nervous that you might pull away. But you never did. You never could. “I’m sorry.” 
“What for?” You squeezed his hand tighter, wanting that gesture to make his frown disappear, but you only see his anxiousness shine for a second. 
“I don’t know. Nothing? Everything?” 
“You’re not making that much sense, Stevie.” It had slipped out, the old nickname. You felt a bit embarrassed until you saw him smile. A true deep fond smile. 
“I know, honey.” His didn’t, he chose to say it. The dopiest grin that made your heart skip a beat came back, while his fingers played with yours. You could feel the warmness of your cheeks staying there. “I just… I meant everything I said, when we were together.” 
“What-?” 
He interrupted you, too iger to let you know what he had been thinking since he saw you through the club lights and the sea of drunk people. 
“I told you, you were the one I love. It hasn’t changed. I’ve tried, believe me. I tried to stop loving you, and move on, and be with someone else, anyone, but they never came close to you. Nobody knows me like you do, nobody can read me like you do, and I don’t think I can love anyone else like I have loved you.” 
With every word, with every breath your body came closer to his, excitement and electricity growing with every word that reached your ears, you couldn’t really believe that it was really happening. 
And you weren’t conscious about what you were doing before you did. You just knew that your right hand was tangled with his, and that your left one was cupping his cheek, looking fondly at his eyes before closing the distance between your lips. 
They were as soft as you remembered. And he still tastes the same as he did. 
You enjoyed it, for as long as you could, your heart beating as one, as your breathing synchronized, and his neediness became yours. Your kiss, this gesture, was enough, more than words could even say. 
“I haven’t stopped.” Your voice comes out lower, softer, quieter than you intended to. Your forehead pressed to his. Your eyes still closed, enjoying the way your breathing was mixing with his. 
“Thank god.” He giggled as he pulled you close once again. 
The second kiss was longer than the first one, but it still made your heart flutter, and your skin warming up in familiar desire. His free hand found his way to your waist, holding you closely, afraid that if he opens his eyes you might disappear. 
“We can talk about us, tomorrow.” 
“Yeah.” 
You buried his head on his chest, as he pushed you closer to him. A warm hug that you didn’t want to see the end of, a closeness that you’d missed, and that you hoped you didn’t have to miss again. 
The promise that tomorrow you’d wake up next to him again, and his warmth wrapping you up under the sheets let you actually rest for once.
-
if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
There’s a table in the school library that’s nestled in the corner, right by a radiator; Steve has claimed it ever since his double block of ‘private study periods’ began.
Not that he’s planning on doing any studying: it’s the last day of school before the winter break, and while his face has healed up from the whole Billy Hargrove Incident, he still finds himself feeling wiped at random—like his body’s having a delayed adrenaline crash ever since he pulled Dustin out of that freaky vine-infested tunnel.
So really, this spot should be ideal for a couple hours of not having to think.
And it would be perfect, if his eyes weren’t instinctively drawn to movement at the front desk.
Because for the past god-knows-how-long, Eddie Munson has been in a back-and-forth with the librarian.
It had started when he ambled up to the desk with a healthy pile of books in his hands, placed them down neatly, all ready to be stamped. Flashed a charming smile.
Steve was too far away to hear the words, but he got the gist that whatever the librarian had said amounted to no, absolutely not, because Eddie scooped the books back up, dumped them on a table a little distance away from Steve’s, then hemmed and hawed before returning to the desk with a more modest pile than before.
He was sent away again with presumably the same refusal, and so the pattern repeated until this very minute: he’s returning with just one book in his hands, his smile less charming now, more desperate.
But… no luck.
Eddie slouches back to the table in defeat. Just stands there, staring down at the books.
And goddamn it, Steve thinks, now he’s invested.
“Hey. Munson,” he says in an undertone. “What’s up?”
He doesn’t miss the weird kind of double take Eddie gives him, but at least Steve knows it’s not because of his face being a mess this time—seriously, drawing looks from students when all he wanted was to get in line for crappy cafeteria pizza had not been fun.
“Nothing,” Eddie says with a shrug, and he flashes another wide smile that makes Steve think bullshit. “Apparently I racked up a mountain of late fees. Who knew?” He sighs, glancing at his wristwatch. “Guess I’ve got enough time to just read the—oh. Um. Hey?”
“These books?” Steve confirms, having already stood up to look at them.
Eddie blinks a few times. “Yeah, these—uh, Harrington, what the fuck do you think you’re—?”
Steve heads over to the front desk with the books. It’s not all that difficult of a decision to make; he remembers Tommy H had his own library late fees in freshman year, but got nothing more than a simpering, “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again, sweetie,” just because his mom knew someone on the school board.
“For checking out, please,” Steve says, not bothering with a smile as he hands over his library card.
The only resistance he gets is a raised eyebrow from the librarian before all the books are stamped.
“What the fuck,” Eddie says, voice flat; he doesn’t take the books when Steve tries to give them to him, so Steve just shrugs and goes back to his seat, sets the books pointedly on the edge of the table.
“Look, man, it’s up to you, but I’m not gonna take them. They’ll just be sitting here.”
Eddie huffs. He goes over to the books, his hand twitching towards them before drawing back, like he’s at war with himself.
“You—you didn’t have to do that,” he gets out as if it physically pains him to do so.
Prickly, Steve thinks.
“It’s no big deal,” he says. “My account’s gathering dust, so someone might as well get the good of it.”
At hearing that, Eddie looks a little less defensive. He chews on his lips for a few seconds, then says, his tone serious, “Harrington, I’ll—I’ll forget. Like, with the holidays… like, I guarantee you, even if I write a million fucking reminders, I’m gonna take these books and forget to bring ‘em back for months.”
“Oh, no,” Steve says dryly, “lemme go alert the press, I just heard a blatant confession to a crime. Dude, just take them, what do I care if your homework takes you months to—”
“It’s not even for school,” Eddie interrupts through gritted teeth, “it’s dumb, it’s just—”
“Jesus Christ. Lemme call the press again, sounds like you’re reading a book for fun.”
Eddie stares at him. Steve raises an eyebrow in challenge—he could do this all day; just the other week, he’d beaten Mike in a brutal staring contest that felt like it went on for hours.
Eddie breaks first. “Fine,” he says with another huff, but he’s less agitated when handling the books—lingers thoughtfully on their titles, puts a couple in his backpack. The rest he opens at seemingly random parts, but it looks like he knows what he’s searching for.
And then it seems as if he’s just going to pick up the remaining books and walk away—Steve expects him to, honestly—but he ends up staying where he is, gives Steve a look of consideration, almost like he’s a book worth reading, too.
“You stole my table, you know?” Eddie says.
“Uh, no,” Steve says automatically, then adds with more confidence, “I was definitely here first.”
Eddie snorts. “Nope. My senior year, uh,” he shrugs self-deprecatingly, “the first time around. That was my spot. Was pretty possessive over it too, think I signed the table, like, underneath.”
Steve’s eyebrows rise in interest; he runs a finger along the underside of the table and soon feels it: an E.M scratched into the wood.
“Huh,” he says. “Guess you’re right.”
A pause.
And then Steve surprises himself.
“There’s, um, room here, if you want? I’m not gonna use the whole table.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. There’s a long enough silence in which Steve considers just telling him to forget about it, but then—
Eddie sits down opposite him.
It’s not as awkward as Steve was expecting: Eddie seems focused enough on his books, on bringing out a battered looking journal with sheets of paper that look like they’re hanging on by a thread. He roots around his backpack some more, retrieves a ballpoint pen with a quiet, triumphant, “Aha!”
He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve isn’t even making an attempt to look busy; his own side of the table is bare.
“Didn’t know you were left-handed,” Steve says after a moment.
Eddie looks up from his note-taking. He smirks, waggles his eyebrows briefly. “Fitting, huh? Spooky.”
“Oh, I’m terrified.”
And Eddie actually laughs—hushed, but it still counts as one.
He soon returns to being absorbed in whatever it is he’s writing, which means Steve has less of a distraction when the familiar wave of tiredness washes over him.
He tries to sit up as well as he can, conscious of the fact that he’s not alone, but the radiator is the perfect temperature, and the steady scratch of Eddie’s pen has a soporific effect. He’s distantly aware of the fact that his head is nodding down with dwindling energy to try and stop it—hears Eddie’s voice, as if from very far away, rising in question.
Steve sniffs sharply, jerks his head back up and blinks hard. “What?”
“Oh, sorry,” Eddie says quickly, and he sounds genuine. “Didn’t know you were sleeping.”
“I wasn’t,” Steve says.
“Uh, okay,” Eddie says. His lips twitch. “That was an awfully long blink then, Harrington.”
“Shut up,” Steve retorts mildly. He stretches slightly, hides a yawn behind his hand. “Did you actually want something or—”
“Nah, wasn’t important.”
Steve frowns, unconvinced. The side of Eddie’s left hand is covered in ink, and Steve can see where his pen has started to die on him as his writing gets more faded across the page.
Steve puts a hand in his pocket, brings out another ballpoint and throws it at Eddie.
The pen bounces along the table, and Eddie manages to catch it one-handed.
“Good catch,” Steve says.
“Thanks,” Eddie says. He sounds almost uncertain.
Silence falls. It only takes another minute or two of hearing Eddie writing away for Steve’s determination to stay awake to waver again. He slumps forward with a mumbled, “M’just gonna…” and lays his head down.
Eddie stops writing.
“Hey, man, are you… okay? Like, if you feel… if you wanna go home I could take you to the nurse? Or—”
“I’m fine,” Steve says into his folded arms. “S’just… the aftermath of… stuff. No big deal.”
“Oh?” Eddie says tentatively.
Steve lifts his head up a bit, squints dubiously. “C’mon, Munson. You must’ve heard the rumour mill.”
Billy Hargrove had spread it all over the school, how he had ‘taught King Steve a lesson.’ In all honesty, Steve hadn’t cared all that much about how he himself came across in whatever story Billy created, was just relieved that at least Max and Lucas’s names had been kept out of it.
“I don’t put much stock in rumours,” Eddie says carefully. “Folks can say… all kindsa things.”
Steve nods faintly. Fair point.
“Okay, but you can take a little bit of stock in this one. Like, a smidge.”
Steve demonstrates with his thumb and forefinger.
It’s only when Eddie doesn’t smile in response that Steve realises he’d been hoping to make him laugh again. Maybe.
“Huh. Well. For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Steve says tiredly.
“Harrington. I’m not stupid, y’know? That was more than a… a stupid fight after school or something. Like, I can remember what your face looked like.”
“Gee, thanks.” Steve sets his head back down, closing his eyes.
“I didn’t—I just meant whatever it was, it… it went too far. Way too fucking far.”
Steve yawns again, doesn’t bother hiding it. “Yeah. Something like that.”
He’s resigning himself to the thought of waking up with a stiff neck before Eddie sighs and says, “If you’re gonna sleep, Harrington, don’t be an amateur about it.”
Steve looks up in time to see Eddie reaching underneath the table with one leg, hooking his ankle round the empty chair next to Steve and shoving it closer to him.
“Three or four’s probably the best amount for stretching out on,” Eddie says. “Uh, speaking from experience.”
Steve smiles. “Noted.”
He manoeuvres himself until he’s lying much more comfortably across the seats, using his backpack and coat as a pillow.
Frustratingly but predictably, despite his fatigue, sleep doesn’t come easily, so Steve looks underneath the table and asks, “What’re you writing about, Munson?”
He can see Eddie’s boots, how one foot is tapping away, as if in time to a song no-one else can hear.
“Um, I was just… getting inspiration for… it’s kinda like. Like a story, but—”
“Don’t hurt yourself, dude,” Steve says, “I know what a campaign is.”
The foot tapping stops.
“Aren’t you just full of surprises?” Eddie says.
He sounds a bit far away again, though Steve knows that’s just in his head; he can feel his eyelids drooping.
“You’ve got…” He sighs, voice trailing off as he finishes, “No idea…”
Eddie launches into a speech; Steve can follow it well enough for a little while, Eddie rambling about the kind of decisions he thinks his players will make in the game, but eventually the words become a blur, and he drifts off just like that, into an unexpectedly peaceful sleep.
He wakes with the lightest of touches to his shoulder, a soft, “Steve?” that nevertheless makes him jolt to full alertness in a blink, reaching for a bat he doesn’t currently have.
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelps, almost falling back against the table. “What the hell kinda military training d’you have, Harrington?”
“Just have good reflexes,” Steve says, hopes it sounds casual enough as he breathes through his suddenly racing heart.
“Yeah, that’s one way to fucking put it. Anyway, uh. Sorry, didn’t mean to, like, startle you, but you slept right through the bell, man.”
Steve sits up; the library is empty apart from them, the librarian shooting them a not so subtle glare. And he realises that while everyone else was rushing out of school, eager for the holidays to start, Eddie must’ve stayed. Waited for him.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, quickly puts on his coat.
“God, sorry, you didn’t have to—if I’ve made you late, I’m—”
“Nah, don’t sweat it.” Eddie puts his backpack strap across one shoulder. “I wasn’t in a hurry. Um, are you… like, good to drive? I can give you a ride, if—”
“I’m okay,” Steve says, struck by the consideration behind the offer. He means what he says though; he feels pleasantly refreshed. He smiles self-effacingly. “Think I need one class where I can just sleep, and then I’ll get through the day.”
Eddie gives a playful scoff. “That’s already a thing, Harrington, it’s called first period.”
They walk out of the library together, and Steve finds that it’s kind of… nice, honestly. He keeps waiting for some awkwardness to creep in again, but it never does.
“Big holiday plans?” Eddie asks, smalltalk that should be stilted, but it just sounds like he’s sincerely interested in the answer.
Steve shrugs. “Not really. Oh, I’ve got—you know the Snow Ball thing tomorrow, at the middle school? There’s this kid I know, I’m gonna give him a ride there, but—”
Steve breaks off with a fond shake of the head, knowing that there’s this kid I know doesn’t really give it justice, doesn’t say the full truth: that Dustin Henderson has somehow wormed his way into Steve’s goddamn heart forever.
“His mom’s invited me over for dinner tonight,” he continues. “Think he wants, like, a dress-rehearsal of his outfit or something, which is probably the closest he’ll ever come to admitting he’s nervous. I kinda feel for him, honestly. God, do you remember being thirteen? Everything seemed to matter so much, and most of it was just… stupid shit.”
They’ve reached the parking lot, and Eddie gives Steve a sideways look with a bemused smile.
“Woah, Harrington, we’re still in school, remember? Don’t think we’re meant to sound so world-weary yet.”
Steve chuckles. “Yeah.” He gestures at Eddie’s get-up. “Bet you’ve never once cared about the stupid shit, though.”
What people think.
Eddie’s smile turns more knowing. “Shockingly, Harrington,” he says, “I didn’t come out the womb like this.”
They both hesitate; they’re at Steve’s car now, Eddie’s van parked in a space that’s further away. There’s no reason, really, for the conversation to continue any longer.
But Eddie still lingers.
“Uh, enjoy your dinner, I guess. If the… dress-rehearsal goes shit, just tell the kid it’s good luck for the real night.”
Steve laughs. “He’s in the Drama Club, so that might work, actually. Thanks, Munson.” He opens the car door as Eddie nods, starts to head off to his van. Seized by a sudden impulse, Steve calls, “Happy holidays!”
“Yeah, you too.” Eddie turns, tapping at his temple exaggeratedly. “Won’t forget about the books, I promise.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “You better not,” he says, tongue-in-cheek.
He starts the car and heads for Dustin’s house, honks the horn when he drives past Eddie’s van, catches Eddie waving.
Steve thinks he quite likes the idea (regardless of whether it’ll put his library account in jeopardy), of the books finding a permanent home at Eddie’s place. Briefly imagines Eddie writing with an ink-stained hand, curled up safely in a world of his own—where the only monsters are the ones that live in between the pages.
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kennahjune · 8 months
Text
Steddie
I’m joining the s3 steddie train :D
Steve was late. He was so late and so dead. Robin was going to kill him— he’d never make it out of Scoops Ahoy alive.
This was his thought process after dropping Will Lucas and Max off at Mikes. This was also his thought process the entirety of the way to Scoops while he shoved his way through the mall.
The moment he entered the small shop Robins eyes locked on him in a glare. Steve barely gave her a second before he was going to the back room to get ready for his shift.
He heard the back room door open behind him.
“You’re—“
“24 minutes late I know,” he said as calmly as he could while trying to relax his breathing.
“Yeah and—“
“And you get an extra 25 minutes for your break, yes Robin I know!”
Steve finally closed his employee cubby and turned to look at Robin. “Look. Im sorry I was so late today but Will, Lucas and Max are assholes when they’re being petty and they needed a ride to Mikes cause all the others were busy! I’ll take closing shift today to if you’re really that mad.”
Robin stared at him angrily from the doorway. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms. “And yes, you will be taking the closing shift tonight. I have a study date with a friend that I can’t miss.”
“It’s summer vacation?”
“Shut up!”
Steve shrugged when the door closed.
He closed the door to his employee locker with a little more force than necessary. He had a migraine building and the bright, florescent lights of the mall weren’t helping in the slightest.
He walked out and began his shift.
Eddie wanted to enjoy his day off. Preferably by himself. But Gareth and Jeff decided that his personal life was their personal life. So here they were.
He had wanted to spend the day away from the mall, considering that that was where everyone seemed to be nowadays. But the guys were insistent.
So they were walking around. It wasn’t too bad, considering Eddie had gotten himself a new record and tape with his newest paycheck. They were sitting at the fountain when Gareth shouted right in Eddie’s ear:
“HOLY SHIT!”
Eddie just about punched him with how hard he jumped. Jeff spit out his Pepsi all over Eddie.
While Eddie was worrying about getting the sticky drink off of his skin, Gareth continued with; “is that HARRINGTON in Scoops?”
Well. Now he has Eddie’s attention.
Sure enough, just in Eddie’s line of sight, was Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform and a dorky hat.
A dorky hat that was soon snatched up by his current customer, Billy Hargrove.
Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and leaned over him to get a better view. “Is that Hargrove?”
“Yep.” Eddie popped the P.
“It looks like he’s messing with Harrington.”
“Yep.” Another pop on the P.
“And Harrington looks like he’s gonna fucking explode.”
Eddie agreed. Harrington was red in the face and not in the cute blushy-way he usually gets (don’t ask why Eddie knows that). He was talking back to Hargrove, probably something bitchy and sarcastic in typical Harrington-fashion based on the way Hargrove seemed to recoil for a moment before jumping back.
“Should we do something?” Gareth asked skeptically. Jeff shrugged where he was pressed against Eddie’s back.
“I’m going in.” Eddie stood and nearly knocked Jeff down in the process.
“Hang on—“
“Nope! Wish me luck, boys!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder while he dashed over. He heard them both get up and follow him.
Steve wanted to cry.
His head hurt so fucking bad and his back was killing him and he had ran into a shelf earlier and had a killer bruise on his arm and leg from it and everything was too fucking much.
Then, in all his asshole and dick glory, in came Billy Hargrove.
At this point, Steve would rather take another plate to the head then have to deal with his annoyingly aggravating voice. Hargrove came in, probably expecting Robin to be there, but got Steve instead. And honestly Steve would rather deal with him then leave Robin with him.
So he’s been enduring it, giving his own comments and comebacks but overall hating his life and just wanting to curl up and die.
Then his savior showed up. In all his black leather and chains, Eddie fucking Munson.
Hallelujah.
Hargrove seemed to back down the moment Munson showed up. Which wasn’t too strange considering that Munson supplied over half of Hawkins’ weed supply. Including Steve’s own for a while. He hasn’t bought in a while cause of the brat brigade.
But not the point.
Hargrove nodded to Munson. “Munson.”
Wow. Real cool, Billy. Steve held back a snicker.
“Heeyyy, Hargrove!” Munson cheerily greeted. But there was something about his smile that was off, to Steve. It seemed tighter than usual, his eyes not crinkling with the motion like normal. Don’t ask why Steve knows this.
Munson’s eyes seemed darker, too. Like he was angry. Maybe Hargrove didn’t pay him? Steve couldn’t bother to care with how bad his head started to pound.
He shouldn’t be at work with this migraine. He knows that. His doctor’s told him this multiple times. But he owes it to Robin for being late so much and he needs to prove to his dad that he can take care of himself.
“So what brings you here, Billy?” Munson asks casually, stepping farther into the shop. Steve seems to finally be forgotten about, and he places his head down on the counter. The cooled surface definitely helps with the spinning room.
He hears Hargrove say something back, but he isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are stating to go blurry and he really needs to sit down. But then Munson says something that catches his attention:
“Just leave Harrington alone, man. Last I checked he did nothing to you.”
What the hell? Steve wished he could lift his head and see what Munson was doing. What he looked like when he said that. If he looked as mean as he sounded.
Steve only lifts his head a few moments later when he feels a hand on his back. He shoots up quicker than he intends, and nearly falls back down if not for the hands still holding him up.
“Shit,” he grumbles quietly to himself, whining even quieter at the sudden rush of pain and the black dots in his vision.
“Easy there, your highness.” Munson.
Steve blinks slowly, letting Munson set him down in a booth. He doesn’t remember walking over but he’ll take it. He puts his head back down and intertwines his fingers behind his head. He groans quietly again, the pounding slowly receding.
“Hey man, is there something we could do? Do you need anything?” He heard Munson ask.
We? Steve wants to ask, but finds himself not caring. “Water, and my bag from the back please,” he rasps out. Talking makes the pounding worse.
He hears someone rush off to the back and a moment later a hands on his back again and is helping him sit up.
“Here ya go sweetheart.” Munson slides the glass of water and bag over to him.
Steve silently reaches into his bag and pulls out his small “to-go” med-kit. He carries it around mainly for the kids. Mike tends to be clumsier than he comes off as and Max is always trying out some new skateboarding tricks. From inside the kit he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows 2 with the water and goes for another 2 before a hand stops him.
“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take more than 2.” This voice is new but familiar. Steve squints past the blurriness and makes out someone he recognizes from school; Gareth Emerson.
“4,” Steve manages past the lump in his throat. Munson, Emerson, and someone else Steve doesn’t quite know look at him. Munson continues to hold Steve’s hand on the table, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It weirdly intimate but the comfort is very welcome.
“4 what?” The other guy asks.
“4 pills. I usually take 4.”
Munson and Emerson both wince. The third guy looks at him like he’s insane. Steve finally recognizes him as Jeff,… something. He actually never got his last name.
“Dude— are you trying to overdose!?”
Steve winced at the sudden loudness, whining quietly. Munson shushed Jeff and Steve heard him rush out an apology.
The bell over the door dinged at that moment, and Steve found himself face to face with Max, Mike, Will, Lucas, and— for some reason— Jonathan.
“Uh— hi?” Steve attempted for a greeting.
“‘Hi!?’” Mike yelled. “Hi yourself man! We called your walkie at least 4 times!! What the hell?”
“Are you ok? Why didn’t you answer?” Will asked in a much quieter tone.
Lucas and Max wasted no time before slotting themselves in the booth with Steve. Munson remained across from Steve, and Emerson and Jeff now hovered farther away, but Lucas slid right in next to Munson and Max next to Steve.
“What the fuck, Harrington?” Max demanded. But she clung to his shirt tightly.
“Language, Mayfield,” he reprimanded quietly.
Mike paused where he stood. “Why are you talking so quietly? Shit— do you have a migraine?”
Suddenly 4 pairs of little eyes were gazing at him with unmasked concern. Holy shit was this overwhelming.
“Guys—“
“Why didn’t you say that, Steve?” Lucas asked.
“Are you ok? How long has it been going on for? Asked Will.
“Why are even here if you’re not able to function properly?” Mike reprimanded in his own caring-ness.
Max clutched to him tighter. “Why aren’t you at home? You could’ve called in sick or something!”
“Shhh!” Mike shushed her.
“Don’t shush me—“
“Shut up!” He whisper shouted. “You have to be quiet and try to control your temperature while resting in a dark, quiet room to try and help with migraines. Pain killers help to but no more than 3.”
Everyone stared at him. He went a little pink under the sudden attention.
“Nancy gets migraines a lot from reading in the dark.”
Jonathan came over right then. Steve was suddenly overwhelmed by all the people surrounding him.
“Uhm—“
“Hey,” Munson called. Steve forgot about him for a good moment. “This is cute and all, but maybe we should not surround him? Poor boy looks like he’s gonna cry.”
Everyone turned to look at him. Tears had— in fact— sprung to his eyes.
“Sorry!” All the kids rushed out quietly at the same time. Max climbed out of the booth and Munson and Jonathan both assisted with helping Steve to the break room. Jeff and Emerson stayed with the kids, but Mike came with them since he seemed to know what he was doing better than the 3 of them.
On their way back to the room though, Steve’s legs nearly gave out from under him. Shit. It’s one of those days. Munson just barely managed to catch him under the armpits while Jonathan got him by the waist.
“Woah there, sweetheart.” Munson grunted.
“Careful, Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.
“Sorry. Spinning.” Steve exhaled shakily.
Mike came rushing back after realized they weren’t with him. “Damn. Spinning? Are you able to walk? Or are they gonna have to carry you?”
Jonathan looked up at the mention of having to carry Steve. “Yeah— I’m not able to carry him. I am so not strong enough for that.” He had the decency to look apologetic.
Munson chuckled quietly and the sound reverberated through his chest where Steve’s head was. It was soothing.
“Don’t worry Big Byers. I’ve got him no problem.”
Steve was given no warning before he was being picked up in a bridal carry. He winced sharply and laid his head on Munson’s shoulder. Jonathan whistled lowly from somewhere beside them and Steve blindly kicked his leg in his direction, scoring in kicking him in the arm. Jonathan snickered.
When Munson chased off Hargrove he didn’t expect for Harrington to all but collapse in on himself and try to fucking overdose on like 5 pain killers. He also hadn’t expected to be bombarded by 4 kids and 1 Jonathan Byers. Least of all did he expect to be carrying Harrington bridal style to the break room of Scoops Ahoy.
Somewhere behind him, Gareth turned the sign on the door to closed. Eddie silently thanked him.
The kid— who he vaguely remembers as Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother— opens the door and startles a half asleep Robin Buckley.
“Hello,” Jonathan throws her way before pulling a chair out for Eddie to sit on.
“Uh— hi? What the hell—“
Eddie takes the seat with Harrington in his lap. Robin looks dumbfounded.
“Migraine,” Jonathan helpfully supplies.
“Really, really bad migraine. Vertigo included. Full package tonight, folks.” Mike adds.
“Ok— um, is he ok? He doesn’t look ok. If it was so bad why didn’t he just call in sick?”
“That’s a good question,” Mike retorts quietly while rooting around in a freezer.
“What are you looking for”, Robin asks.
“Ice pack. The dumbass has everything in that first aid kit of his except a damn ice pack.”
“Language,” Harrington reprimanded quietly from where his cheek was against Eddie’s chest. Eddie chuckled quietly when Mike retorted with a half-assed “sorry”.
Eddie couldn’t help but admire the now sleeping Harrington in his lap. He bent in half like a shrimp, his knees just about to his chest, and his hands gripping tightly onto Eddie’s still-Pepsi-soaked t-shirt. But he looked so at peace while asleep. Like he hadn’t just had the worst migraine Eddie’s ever seen and wasn’t just about to pass out on his feet. Eddie smiled.
Mike comes over silently, managing to sneak up on Eddie and make him jump slightly and causing Harrington to whine. He’d been whining a lot today. And under “different circumstances” Eddie would’ve found it hot as fuck.
“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He seemed to be able mellow out a lot when he actually tried. He seemed like such an asshole out at the booth but now he seems quieter. These kids really cared about Harrington, huh?
“Here.” Jonathan helped him out and gently picked up Harrington’s head. Eddie caught Harrington actually kind of leaning into his touch. A strange but endearing friendship. Mike placed the ice pack— now wrapped in a cloth— on Eddie’s chest where Harrington’s head lays.
Harrington lays back down and is out like a light soon enough.
Eddie zoned out until there’s a very, very soft knock on the door. When he looks up, Jonathan is letting the other 3 kids in while Jeff and Gareth stand in the doorway.
“Is he ok?” Asks Jonathan’s little brother.
Jonathan nods and pats his head. “He’s ok, Will.”
The redhead walks over and takes a silent seat next to Eddie so she’s next to Harrington. She takes Harrington’s hand in hers and proceeds to just sit there and hold it.
“He’s ok, Max. Just a migraine,” the third kid, Lucas he thinks, reassures with a hand on Max’s shoulder.
“That’s what he said before. And then he was in the hospital.”
Woah, what?
“Hm?” Lucas looks at him.
Oh. He said that aloud.
“Wait what?” Robin asked quietly.
Jonathan’s whistled lowly. It seems to be a bit of a tic for him. “Yeah uh— funny story. Hargrove broke a plate over Steve’s head last year and nobody realized how bad it actually was until he passed out after claiming it was only a migraine.”
“He ended up in the hospital for like 2 weeks,” added Lucas.
“He needed several stitches on the side of his head.” Max unhappily supplied. Lucas squeezed her shoulder.
“It was a stage 4 concussion,” muttered Will and Mike put his head on his shoulder.
Eddie caught Gareth and Jeff’s eyes across the break room. Huh.
The Will kid came up to Eddie suddenly. “Thank you. For uh— helping with Steve. It means a lot to us. He means a lot to us.”
Mike, Max, and Lucas all nodded.
“Hang on,” Lucas piped up. “Who are you?”
So uh— set myself up for a part 2 there :’D
Part 2
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