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#senses of steve
rogersideup · 1 year
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The Senses of Steve
Taste
Series masterlist
Previous part: Smell
Summary: With no one around, and nothing but a head massage to occupy your mind, you finally felt like you knew where you belonged.
Word count: 14,580
Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.
Authors note: Hi besties! We’ve finally made it to the end :,) this chapter is currently un-edited because I wanted to push it out without you guys having to wait another day. I’ll be back to edit it and add proper content warnings tomorrow. Thank you for all your love and support on the series and dealing with the mistakes if you’re seeing this before the edit. I appreciate you all sm <3
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"Here!" Steve announced as he walked into the room and placed a glass of freshly made iced coffee onto your vanity from behind you. "Drink this, coffee usually relaxes you, right?"
Your hair was up in a high messy bun and your makeup was only halfway done. You definitely looked a little crazy, but you kept telling yourself to trust the process. At some point you'd look like the best version of yourself, but right now... "Thank you, Baby." You smiled, dropping your eyeshadow brush from your hand to pick up the coffee.
He was right, vanilla cold brew was one of the most comforting tastes in the world to you. You drank it every morning without fail, sometimes you'd go for a second cup mid-day as a pick me up. Through good days and bad, you could always count on a good cup of coffee to wrap your senses up in a big hug and comfort you through any chaos life threw your way. One sip in and your nerves were slightly calmed, not enough to stop overthinking everything about the night ahead.
"Your dress is almost done being ironed, I'll grab it since I have to go get my suit anyways." He told you with kind eyes looking into yours through the mirror. "How are you feeling?"
His big warm hands gripped your shoulders, rubbing and squeezing away at the muscles to try and ease the anxiety. Tonight was a big deal, all of the avengers were asked to partake in an after award ceremony for the bravest men and women in the military. As a team you would smile, shake hands, and thank those for the sacrifices they've made after they were awarded with titles of great honor. Some people work decades for titles like these.
That in itself wasn't the issue, if it was just that you would have no problem attending.
The problem was that a few avengers let it slip that you would be receiving your own award tonight. The highest award the nation had to offer for gallantry, the Medal of Honor, all because you ran into that building with that bomb.
Oh, and your mom was going to be there receiving her own award.
Said mom you haven't spoken to since eighteen years old. Doesn't know anything about your life Mom.
"I don't understand why I need an award for doing what I signed up for." You huffed. "Oh you did the bare minimum? Here's a shiny medal!" you mocked, finding any and all ways to not show up tonight.
"What you did was not the bare minimum." Steve giggled at your antics. "You deserve the award, and you deserve to accept it." He kissed your cheek. "Stop deprecating the value just because you don't want to go. This is a big deal, we're going to celebrate our brave girl accordingly."
"Steve?" You questioned, he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder to get a better view of his favorite face in the mirror.
"Hmm?"
"Do you remember the year 1941?" You asked rhetorically.
"No, not at all." He shook his head with a mischievous grin.
"Oh, so you don't remember when you stood up the United States Senator in a room full of reporters and 10 members of the Parliament by not accepting your Medal of Honor?"
"Doesn't ring a bell" Steve giggled.
"Huh" You contemplated his lie.
"What can I do to make this easier?"
"Promise me we can leave right after it's over?" You begged.
"Promise." He agreed.
"Yeah? And what if the senator comes up to you and is like 'oh! Captain Rogers! It's so nice to see you! Let's have a fourteen hour long conversation about the political climate of our country that's so boring our partners are going to want to gauge their eyeballs out!' Hmm? Then what?" You challenged, earning more laughter from Steve.
"I'd say, sorry Mister Senator. My beautiful girl just got her Medal of Honor and has very important business to attend, I hope you have a wonderful night." He assured you.
A groan full of nothing but pure dread slipped past your lips as you slumped forward letting your elbows hit the vanity and your head fall into your hands.
"Baby, it'll be fine." His serious voice came out.
"I don't want to see my Mom." You complained fully understanding that you probably sounded pathetic to him. "I don't want to see my Mom, I don't want you to have to see my Mom, I don't want to hear anything she has to say, I don't want to have to fake a smile for a crowd as she walks across the stage we're on, I don't want to shake her hand, I don't want pleasantries, professional courtesy, and small talk where she pretends to care about anything I've been up to just because I'm an avenger now."
"What are the chances this is going to go poorly?" He asked.
"90 percent" You mumbled.
"That's a 10 percent chance that it'll go well." He raised. "We've made miracles happen with less than that, yeah?"
"I think the only thing worse than seeing her again going poorly is it going well. I don't want that." You lifted your head. "I don't want anything to do with her."
"Okay." Steve nodded in understanding, pressing a series of gentle kisses to your shoulder. "Then take it for what it is, okay? One night. Just a couple hours where you have to coexist in a room with someone who's a stranger now. You shake her hand once, you smile for the photo. Then when the time is right, you accept your award from all of us, we shower your in all the love and pride we could possibly give you, then we sneak out have some fun at the private after party, and the two of us will go to bed peacefully and completely relieved that the night is over."
"You missed a huge part" You reminded him. "Socializing, mingling. We're always expected to mingle."
"And I'll be with you the whole night" He grinned. "If she approaches, I'll do whatever I can to get you away. I'll make sure nothing terrible happens."
"How do you feel about tonight?" You questioned, trying to check in on his mind.
"Fine. Not too keen on meeting someone who caused you so much pain but getting to celebrate you outweighs all of that."
"You're too sweet for your own good, you know that, Rogers?" Your eyes closed and your face scrunched up with delightful giggles as he purposefully placed feather light kisses in the crook of your neck to tickle you.
"Remember how you got your dress altered?" Steve asked.
"Uh huh?"
"Took all that pretty fabric off the bottom cause it was too long for you." He smiled, still looking at you in the mirror. "I had them turn some of the extra fabric into a pocket square for my suit so we can match. Doesn't that make you like... a million times more excited to go?"
"A milliondy-trilliondy times more excited." Your smile stretched from ear to ear.
"It's going to be so great. Everyone in the room will know that the prettiest, bravest girl at the event is all mine cause I get to carry a little piece of your dress in my pocket."
"You're so sweet, I'd be lost without you." His arms wrapped around you from behind, and squeezed you generously.
"I'm the lucky one" The smile in his voice was apparent. "I'm going to the store really quick with Bucky, when I get back I'll bring your dress."
"Thank you" You appreciated his warmth for the last few moments with a big deep breath, lifting your hand up behind you and placing it on his cheek. The little hairs growing along his jawline were longer than you've ever seen or felt them since meeting him, it made you smile knowing he was feeling far too lazy to shave.
"Don't worry, I'll get rid of this thing on my face before tonight." He read your mind.
"I wasn't worried." You opened your eyes to read his expression. "I think you pull it off nicely."
"You know how much I hate shaving" Steve pouted.
"So why not grow a beard?" You questioned with a tiny bit of skeptical confidence.
"I don't think people want Captain America to be anything but clean cut." He admitted.
"I think Steve should be whoever he wants to be, and Cap is just going to have to be okay with that." You smiled as he nudged his cheek further into your hand. "You're perfectly capable of saving the world with a handful of hair on your face."
"I'll take that into consideration, beautiful." Steve giggled and kissed your hair once more. "I'll be back soon."
"Okay, have fun with your boyfriend!"
"I will" He laughed. "I love you, you're going to be fine."
"I love you too."
Steve came back about an hour later with your dress when you were finally done with your makeup and just finishing up your hair with a final run through of hairspray to keep all your hard work in place.
The both of you get dressed together and you couldn't help but to be endlessly thankful for him in those moments. He was helpful from cracking jokes to ease your mind, making you laugh as he cursed his three piece suit for being so confusing and having too many buttons, down to helping you zip up your dress and insisting on buckling the straps of your heels.
When you were both fully dressed, perfumed, and styled to the public's standard you took one final look at each other. Your shaky hands reached to straighten out the dark teal colored satin pocket square made of your dress, and centered his tie one last time before his hands caught yours.
He kissed the back of each one and professed that you were the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and in true Steve fashion, admitted that you were, in fact, so pretty that you still made him nervous.
Your love was so sickeningly sweet that the only thoughts that filled your head as you walked down to the event was questions of how you got to be so lucky, and what you could've possibly done to earn the life you had. The life where you were an avenger, and your boyfriend was quite literally the superhero of your dreams.
The same superhero tale that was told to you as a kid, the very one you dreamed would sweep you off your feet and provide you with the love you desperately needed and craved when you laid awake at night as a teenager, wondering what you did to deserve a dead father and a mother who didn't love you.
You had him now. You felt proud that you didn't need him to complete you. That teenager angst of two half's coming together to make a whole had been thrown out the window and been replaced with something so much healthier, and safer. You and your knight and shining armor were two wholes that enjoyed the luxury of love and affection. You could only hope that your growth shined through your posture and glowed through your skin with a golden, glimmering sheen.
You grew exponentially faster and larger than life since the last time your mother saw you. All you wanted now was for her to see it with her own eyes, and drink in the harsh reality that you were whole without her. Though not by choice, you were whole without your father. You are whole without your superhero, but a little extra shiny and radiant with him by your side.
You stepped through the large double doors into the luxurious and lively event room, a nostalgic wave of emotion overtook. It felt like parent open house night in elementary school, that after school event where your parents come to see your classroom, meet your teachers, and see some physical proof of your hard work.
This time your artwork didn't hang on bulletin walls with your name signed at the bottom with glitter glue, you weren't reading your poetry to classmates and their parents, your teacher wasn't praising you for being a joy to have around and a good example for your peers.
You couldn't help but to wonder if she felt the same- if your mother had grown and changed in your years of not speaking. Perhaps she bloomed and blossomed the same way you did, the harsh reality of life turning you both into diamonds. Maybe she was whole without you too, maybe she found the half of herself she lost with the passing of your father. There was a chance she was golden and glimmering, shining brightly with radiant wisps.
Steve pulled you out of your thoughts by squeezing your hand with excitement as he recognized a handful of friendly faces he hadn't gotten a chance to see in a while. You shared that joy with him when you finally worked up the nerve to look around the room too and being met with a whole bunch of old colleagues, mentors, and commanding officers you were more than happy to introduce to Steve.
Most of them reunited with you through kind words, congratulations, and praises higher than you thought you deserved. You accepted them modestly, mostly because if you didn't Steve would fight you tooth and nail until you did, then invited them to the private after party in the private sector of the compound.
If you didn't invite people to your own after party, then Tony would be the one to fight you.
As more familiar faces approached to reconnect, you soon found yourself in a bubble of love. The smile on your face never dissipated and laughter began to slip out as if you had nothing to be worried about in the first place.
The room continued to fill and more people began to take their seats in time for the ceremony to start. The Avengers were expected on the stage the whole time to take pictures and congratulate those who received their medals, so before they started their work, she wanted to loosen up a bit and start the night off right.
Steve was having a conversation with a group of people you didn't recognize, so you made a brave choice. When the moment was right as to not interrupt anyone, you let go of his hand and placed it on his upper arm to grab his attention. He leaned over a bit to hear you more clearly in the crowded room. "I'm going to grab a drink really quick, I'll meet you on the stage okay?"
His eyes became concerned and he continued leaning down to speak quietly in your ear. "You want me to come with you?"
"It's okay, Honey, it'll be fast." You reassured him. "Can I get you anything?"
"I'll have what you're having" he grinned and sent you off with a quick kiss to the crown of your head.
"Okay, I'll see you up there" His actions brought a smile to your face as you walked up to the bartender.
You waited in line before placing an order for two drinks, and as you waited for them, a hand landed on the curve of your waist.
"I made a promise to stay with you all night, I can't break it." Steve reminded you.
"Well I'm feeling better than I thought I would so it's perfectly okay if you do." You let him pull you close into his side, his big hand was keeping you warm.
"Is she here yet?" He questioned.
"Haven't seen her" You shook your head.
"Right now I think I might be more nervous than you are, I keep looking for features of your face in every person I talk to wondering if it might be her."
"Well, I've always been told I look more like my dad anyways." The bartender handed her the two drinks, she grabbed them both with a polite thank you and handed one to Steve. "these should help."
"Do you think she knows we're together?" He asked, trying to further understand the situation at hand like he was plotting the best way to fight a battle.
"Look at us" You giggled with a slight snort between your first and second sip. "Matching bracelets, matching outfits, I think the whole world knows we're together."
"...and that article was published in tmz last week" he thought out loud. "I'm just trying to figure out if she would approach me."
"Maybe." You shrugged. "But her opinion of you means shit to me."
Steve took a long sip of his drink, silently praying he would experience a miracle and maybe feel even a slight buzz from the alcohol. "I've never met any of your family before, even if you don't care I still feel like I care."
"Steve" Your hand found its way to his chest. "Everyone you've met tonight, the team, literally the people we both live with and see every single day are more like my family than my mother is. You have met my family, and news flash, they all love you. Everyone loves you. I love you."
"So if she hates me?" He asked.
"You get to join the club! She hates me too" You smiled, Steve bit the inside of his cheeks to try and hold back a laugh at your statement before shaking his head. "You're so handsome."
"You're deflecting" he raised an eyebrow.
"No I'm not" you denied. "I'm simply distracted by your beauty."
"You know, I've been thinking about what you said earlier." Steve let you know.
"Oh no, I say a lot of things all day long."
"I think Cap is okay with trying a beard"
"But you just shaved like an hour ago" You pouted.
"Steve shaved what an hour ago?!" Natasha's voice rang from behind the two of you.
Steve scoffed like a disappointed dad at her innuendo. "My face."
"I'm trying to get him to grown a beard."
"You missed a spot" She reached up and poked his chin, naturally he looked down at where her finger was pointing and she took the chance to drag it up his face to annoy him like two children in the elementary school playground. "Ha-ha made you look" she taunted.
You let out another adorable half snort as you laughed at the banter.
"You're so lucky we're in a room full of people right now or I'd be chasing you around the compound." Steve stated.
"So scary" you lied and over exaggerated your words, throwing your hands up in defense to hype up Steve's words. "Natasha, I'd be scared if I were you."
"Yup. I'm terrified." She said flatly. "Anyways, I was told you needed to get your freshly shaved face up on that stage. You too, teal dress."
"Sure thing" Steve nodded, and offered you his arm to walk over together.
The two of you followed Natasha since the three of you needed to get to the same place anyways.
You took your spot between Steve and Sam, anxiously playing with the straw in your cocktail as you felt eyes on you from all over the room. Once the guest speaker started, you tried your hardest to keep your eyes down on your feet to avoid meeting the gazes. Sam caught on to your nervousness, and in attempts to ease your mind he subtly put his arm around you.
He grabbed Steve's wrist and booted his arm off of you, just to take the formerly occupied spot and pull you into his side. Steve looked over at him and quickly shot a questionable sad puppy dog face, and Sam used his free hand to motion for him to relax.
"See this woman in the front? Blonde hair black dress. I saw her trip over her own heel in the parking lot earlier." Sam whispered in your ear. "And the guy next to her, blue suit, tried to catch her but ended up falling on his butt."
You tried to contain the laughter as to not draw attention to yourselves, trying your hardest to uphold the Avengers respectful and professional reputation. To get him back, you gently nudged him with your elbow and stepped away from his hold.
Focusing on the speaker made time fly so fast, before you knew it they were presenting you with your medal. Since you weren't technically in the military anymore, and the avengers held a special place in the hearts of the nation, an exception was made and rules were changed so that the team were the ones to present the medal to you at this ceremony completely separate from the rest.
Tony was able to say some remarkably kind words about you before placing it around your neck, surrounded by the very team who you thought all deserved it more than you did. They were the ones who assisted you in that very moment, the only difference between them and you was being in the right place at the right time.
As it was placed around your neck, you had no choice but to look straight into the crowd of people who were clapping for you. Unexpectedly, someone stood from their seat.
It caused a ripple of everyone else following the lead, and before you knew it everyone was standing. You wish you could tell them to stay seated, you wish you could hand the medal right back to where it came from, but you were stuck.
Your eyes were now glued on the woman who stood first for you. Your own flesh and blood, aged a couple years, grey streaks littering the hair color you once knew, standing and clapping for you with a smile full of pride smeared across her face.
Maybe she did change, but your teenage defenses came flooding in and your felt yourself become small. You shrunk inwards, prepared to tiptoe quietly as to not mess up the smile on her face that was always so fast to disappear at the smallest of accidental disappointments. The chances of her getting better were slim, but the chances that she was smiling and clapping for you, her precious daughter, was all a show for her own peers in the section around her was larger than your life itself.
Steve sensed your drop in confidence the very moment it happened, and followed your gaze. When he saw her he didn't even need to ask for confirmation, because although you denied your similarities, he found a woman who shared your smile and nose.
Unsuspectingly, you started receiving hugs and congratulations from each avenger. When Steve left a quick kiss on your cheek and pulled you in for his turn, you took the chance while you had it.
"She's here." You told him quietly, pretending as though he was congratulating you again for the millionth time that day alone.
"I know, I see her." Steve let you know. "Are you okay?"
"Yep" you had to keep it short and sweet to stay inconspicuous.
You managed to hold it together regardless of your personal feelings. Steve was right, there was so much love and happiness to be spread around tonight surrounded by your colleagues that you managed to bite your tongue and swallow away the bitter taste her presence left in your mouth.
When it was her turn to shake hands and take pictures with the team, they all did you a solid by taking up all the available space surrounding her. You managed to get away with a disingenuous smile at the very end corner of the group photo you knew she was probably dying to post on social media to show off your success.
The same success she had no part in nurturing, no reason to be proud of.
Years of your professional life was spent perfecting a handshake that was firm enough to show confidence, and soft enough to come across as friendly. She got your absolute worst, a single shake with a flimsy grip.
Petty? Maybe. Immature? Possibly. But you made it through a night you were dreading for months, so you were just proud of yourself for getting through it.
The moment the event was over and your professional engagement was no longer required, all of the Avengers were ushered off the stage and into the back halls to go straight to the private after party.
As insisted, you were going to have a fun time and nobody was going to take any excuse as a valid reason to not let loose. The moment you made it into the room where the party was, Tony placed a shot in your hand, and you immediately took it.
The vodka shooting down your throat pulled your mind away from the icky feeling that lingered in your soul. Your medal was taken off your neck by staff you'd trust with your life and was placed in a safe locked box in your room.
Music started, heels came off, and more people arrived to fill all the empty and quiet places with nothing but love.
Bucky and Sam grabbed you mid conversation with your old commanding officer and you were flung over Sam's shoulder. More shots, so much dancing with whoever could get their hands on you.
Every once in a while you'd look around to find Steve, and he was always somewhere around the room being pulled in a million directions talking to someone new with a big smile on his face. He seemed to be having just as good of a time as you were.
A few hours and a few shots went by before you needed a break from the high energy on the dance floor, so you grabbed a water and sat at the bar next to a friend you were happy to catch up with.
You swore you chatted her up without a care in the world, fifteen minutes felt like three hours. She got up to go to the bathroom and you chugged down the rest of your water before another person approached you.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing at a place like this all by herself?" Steve spoke smoothly like he was in an old time movie.
"Well you see, I'm not one to frequent a place like this, but it was dark and stormy out. I needed a warm place to go." You went along with the joke, your eyes did glance out the window to make sure it was, in fact, dark and stormy out. It was probably getting late but you had no concept of the time at the moment.
"Well, did you find it?" He questioned.
"Find what?"
"A warm place to hideaway from the storm?"
"Well, I certainly found a handsome fella to occupy my time while I wait for it to pass. With a face like that I outta' come around here more often." You shamelessly flirted with your own boyfriend.
"You found just the right man, Miss. You know, a beautiful dame in a dress like that in this part of town is quite dangerous. I'm going to have to beat everyone away with a stick." He smirked.
"Yeah? What would I have done without you?" You bat your eyelashes.
"Who knows." He shrugged.
"And what would those people have done to me?"
"They wouldn't appreciate you the same way I do." He shook his head.
You stepped closer to him and he took the chance to put his hand on the small of your back to keep you close. Feeling quite possessive of your sweet soldier, you claimed him too with a hand on his chest as you leaned in to make it a little more provocative.
"So, what would you like to do to me?" You blinked slowly.
His mouth dropped and cheeks flushed as you started pushing his buttons in a room full of people closest to you.
"Seems like you're not such a nice girl after all." He shook his head, eyebrows still raised and cheeks stippled with shades of pink.
He looked so cute like that.
"Never said I was, Captain." You instigated once more, definitely a little too drunk for your own good.
"Okay that's it" Steve laughed. "You're in for it now."
"No I'm not." You denied in a fit of giggles as you started taking big backwards steps towards the exit.
"Where are you going?" He questioned, taking large playful steps towards you. "You can talk the talk but can't walk the walk?"
"Oh you wanna walk the walk right now? In front of all of these people?" You questioned, getting ready to run. "Never knew you were such a... voyeur."
"Baby, you're bad." Steve laughed as you turned around to face forward and squeaked out a drunken giggle, running barefoot through people trying to lose him.
He followed as fast as he could to the best of his abilities until he saw you run right out of the party ballroom into the more calm and quiet compound hallway.
With no people in his way now, he was able to pick up his speed and catch you from behind the second you let your guard down. His arms around your torso allowed him to pick you up and twirl you around causing another eruption of laughter.
He couldn't help but to laugh at your chaos and take on your contagious smile when he spun you around once more to face him.
"If I'm so bad then why'd you run after me?" You laughed, very gently play punching him.
He did a very good job at blocking your punches just as gently as you threw them at him.
"You're so bad" he repeated, shaking his head once again. "And when you walk around looking like this?! Truly a danger to my health and well-being"
"I feel like you brought this upon yourself." You threw the tiniest of punches to his shoulder, but his hand caught your wrist. "Who let you think that Captain America in a three piece suit was legal? Hmm? You're killing people, Stevie."
"You're so drunk" Steve laugh rang out.
"You're not drunk enough" You bantered.
"I tried to match you, but it's not working."
"Well obviously you're not trying hard enough!"
"Have you eaten anything in the past few hours?" He asked, poking your sides to instigate your childish laughter.
"You're so pretty, I'm going to eat you" You caught his arm the same way he caught yours a few seconds ago, and took a big ol' pretend bite right out of his bicep.
"Maybe you need more water" He rubbed the part of his covered arm that you pretended to bite, unable to wipe the stupid smile off his face.
"Bucky!" You exclaimed as Bucky walked out into the hall.
"Are you trying to eat him?" Bucky asked. "I came to rescue Steve from the cannibal in the hallway."
"You can't blame me, he looks and smells so yummy." You defended yourself, lifting Steves arm up to Bucky. "You want a taste?"
"I'm good." Bucky laughed, grabbing Steve's arm and placing it back down to his side.
"More for me" you shrugged.
"Sam and Nat wanted to know if you would take another shot with them?" Bucky asked what he actually intended to come all that way for.
"I don't know if that's such a great idea, big guy over here thinks I should be eating more food and drinking more water." You shook your head with a smile.
Bucky gasped and wrapped his arms around you from the side, cradling your head in his metal hand. "Steven! You're trying to sober her up? On her big night? You monster!"
"She tried to eat me!" He defended himself, hands up in defense, cheeks starting to feel sore.
"He sucks" Bucky rocked you back and forth. "Another shot?" He asked again.
"Will you hold my hair back while I puke?" You questioned right back.
Bucky released you and stepped away. "Sorry, not my job. Steve can help you out with that"
"I'm trying to prevent that" Steve defended the situation.
"I don't know who I'm supposed to trust anymore!" You said dramatically. "You both wouldn't hold my hair back for me, that's so mean"
"I didn't say that" Steve denied.
"Bucky, I don't think Steve would love me if I was a worm" You told the other soldier.
"I'm sorry, Doll. I would love you if you were a worm even if he didn't." Bucky played along.
"If you were a what?" Steve questioned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"A worm, Steven." Bucky scoffed. "If she turned into a worm, would you still love her? Really, it's a simple question."
"Baby, if you turned into a worm I'd make you the worm house of your dreams and take care of you." Steve claimed your statement to be false.
"Ha! ...and Bucky wouldn't even hold my hair back."
"Which is exactly why you're my girl and not his." Steve proudly claimed you, following Bucky's actions and claiming you in his own arms after seeing you wrapped up with his best friend.
"Hey, give her back!" Bucky pouted.
"Nope, all mine" Steve denied as you laughed in his hold.
"I guess I should tell Sam and Nat no more sho-" Bucky started, but was cut off.
"Chameleon?" A fourth voice made you freeze in place, and the nickname you haven't been called since childhood made your once happy heart sink to the pit of your stomach.
You didn't want to look, you didn't want Steve to let you go, and you hoped that it was an odd coincidence from a stranger trying to pass through the halls.
Unfortunately, life doesn't always work that way. Steve slowly let you out of his arms, immediately fixing his tie and pressing down his suit jacket while standing tall.
Bucky cleared his throat, "Yeah, uh, I'm going to go find Sam and Natasha." He turned on his heels and walked right back into the event.
Steve didn't really know what to do in that moment, but you knew that you felt stone cold sober now and you wished you could go back to three minutes ago when you were having a blast annoying the soldiers.
"Captain Rogers, honor to meet you." Your mom appeared in front of you, reaching her hand out to shake his for a second time tonight.
For the first time ever, you saw Steve in a moment of being rendered speechless. He didn't know how to respond, if it was appropriate to congratulate her on success in the military, or if he should be yelling at her for being unauthorized in a high security building approaching a private event with no invitation.
He shook it, and opened his mouth hoping that something, literally anything would come out. Instead, she spoke once again.
"You two seem to be comfortable with each other!" She enthused. You knew where this was headed, and you immediately wanted to cry. "And my gosh, my little chameleon, you've become not so little anymore. I hardly recognized you, you've grown into yourself so well... an avenger? Wow."
"Is that so hard to believe?" You questioned, speaking your first words to her since 18 years old.
"Do you remember that photo of you that your dad took when you were 8 years old? The one where you were running around the back yard with a plastic Captain America shield?"
"Mom" You warned, already feeling embarrassed enough to want to fall through the floor.
"I still hear that tiny voice screaming loud enough for all the neighbors to hear that you were going to save the day. And here you are." She looked from you, to Steve, then back at you with judgmental eyes. "Yeah. It's a little hard to believe."
There was no super hero in the grand scheme of the entire multiverse that could come and save you from being belittled in front of Steve. You knew he couldn't cut in unless she was being downright disruptive, and he couldn't leave and live with himself for breaking a promise to you.
"And why is that?" You shrunk into yourself and glued your eyes to the floor, suddenly remembering your bare feet.
You were no longer glowing or radiant, you didn't feel quite as big as you did all those years away from her. You knew now what she saw, a drunken disappointment in the hallway, an imposter, a mess with no shoes taking advantage the only man who could fill the broken void of your childhood.
But you never thought of Steve that way, and certainly that's not why you fell in love with him. Standing in front of her and next to him, you had never felt so insecure.
Did you subconsciously fall into the lap of this relationship to heal parts of yourself that therapy couldn't? Was it weird or morally wrong to be romantically involved with Steve? Did you trap him with a sob story and make him feel too bad to leave?
Holy shit. Did you have do defend this behavior and your relationship in front of your mother?
Maybe it was time to retire this career and start a new one somewhere else. Something small and simple, maybe a barista in an independently owned coffee shop, or a florist spending your day with your nose deep in the flowers.
"I guess when you were a kid you were just so focused on yourself and so... heartless... it's hard to imagine you living a life revolved around selflessness and empathy." She spoke so casually you almost accepted those words as true.
You could hear Steve take in a big breath, he squirmed in place, visibly uncomfortable with the situation and upset by her words.
"Heartless" you repeated quietly. The room spun around you but you weren't sure if that was the anxiety or the alcohol. "Selfish. How? How are those the only two words you could think of to describe me when all I did with my life before adulthood was take care of you?"
"Take care of me?" She scoffed. "You know how hard I had to work every day to keep food in your mouth and a roof over your head?"
"That's the bare minimum you sign up to do when having a kid." You mumbled.
"After all these years I thought that maybe you would've changed your mind about me being some sort of villain."
"You've done nothing to change my mind. No apologies, no effort to mend our relationship..."
"Maybe it'll take you having your own kids to understand how hard it is to be a mother." She cut you off. "But seeing as you can't treat your own flesh and blood with respect, you aren't fit to be one yet."
"I think you've mistaken this event as an open house, and I think you're here way past your allotted time." You finally spoke up.
"And this continuing to be your behavior even under today's circumstances and in front of one of the most respected men in the world is disappointing." Her voice got louder to undermine the fact that yours did too. "Imagine explaining this to your 8 year old self. What would she think? I know your father would be disappointed at best."
"What exactly are you here for, ma'am?" Steve instantly snapped when she tried to weaponize his very existence using her dead father.
Your vocal cords were tied tightly into a knot, nothing could come out, you could barely breathe, and a single tear fell down your cheek. In attempts to not let her win, you wiped it away as quickly as you could.
"I wanted a chance to congratulate my daughter, but I'm not so sure she deserves that anymore." She spat venom at you. "You know, a flashy title and a medal around your neck means nothing without a family to love you."
"She does have a family that loves her, they're all in that room right now." Steve proudly wrapped his arm around you and pointed to the party. "There's a reason why you aren't allowed in there, so I suggest you leave. Especially because I'm sure your commanding officer would be disappointed to hear that you're continuing this dishonorable behavior in front of one of the most respected and remarkable women in the world."
You couldn't even help the sob that escaped the back of your throat before covering your mouth with your hand and hiding your face into his side. He could've used his own title and authority to scare her off, but instead he picked you up off the floor she held you down on and placed you on a pedestal above her head.
She tried to make you feel small, perhaps that's how she always saw you, but Steve always thought you were larger than life. His actions and words continued to prove that in every difficult situation.
He was always so soft and kind around you that you forgot that he even had such a stern and commanding bone in his body.
"She is my daughter." You mother stood her ground.
"You do not own her. Leave." Steve practically growled.
The silence was loud as she scoffed and walked off with a stomp in her feet, hands balled into fists.
Steve left you for a moment to tell the nearest security to escort her out and make sure she actually exited the premises this time, and by the time he got back and placed his hands on your shoulders to console you, he was nothing but soft again.
Your hands hid your face, too embarrassed to even speak to him at the moment. Overwhelmed, ashamed, consumed by anxiety on the brink of a panic attack, you couldn't step foot in that room again.
Not with tears streaking your mascara and the hem of your dress bunching against the floor due to your lack of heels.
Steve felt his heart squeezing in his chest when you couldn't even open your eyes to look at his face, he could only imagine you were feeling belittled and embarrassed. He would do anything to take that weight off your shoulders, make sure you knew that you had nothing to be ashamed of, but no words would break through the barrier you had to build in order to protect yourself.
You needed your own time and space to break that down, and you would. You were brave enough to do so. Just not right now, not when you desperately needed a bulletproof casing to keep all of the harsh words and criticism out of your mind.
"Baby" Steve's hands traveled from your shoulders up your neck and onto your own hands that hid your face. "You're okay, I love you. It's okay"
"I have to go" Your voice shook.
"That's okay" His thumbs ran along the backside of your hands. "I know you need some alone time, but would you like me to walk you home or are you going to be okay getting back on your own?"
"I'm fine." You inhaled deeply and rubbed your face once more before dropping your hands and crossing your arms over your chest tightly. "I'll be fine."
"Alright" Steve kissed the top of you head. "I'll come check on you in a bit."
It was hard for him to let you walk away by yourself when all he wanted to do was make sure you got home okay and tuck you in tightly under your blankets, but letting you go alone was what you needed in that moment so he forced himself to take that step back.
He walked back in that room and explained the situation to Tony and Bucky, and stayed a little while longer acquainting himself to all the important people in your life who loved you so deeply.
About an hour and a half later, it was well into the middle of the night and guests started leaving so he took the opportunity to sneak out and contemplate his next move on the walk back.
He didn't want to bother you or make you feel pressured into being around him if you still felt defensive, but the thought of you sleeping in a cold bed alone all night when you were already so sad made him want to cry a little bit.
He decided that the best thing to do was to change out of his formal wear and into some sweats before going into your room to check on you. Maybe some extra comfort would be beneficial to the both of you.
Unlocking his bedroom door and stepping through, he kicked off his shoes and ran a hand through his styled hair before noticing the lump under the covers of his bed. It made his heart beat a little faster before it melted into a puddle.
He changed into sweatpants and a hoodie as quickly as he could, as he brushed his teeth he took note of how you turned off the soundproofing to hear the rain putter against the roof and floor to ceiling windows.
Once he was ready to submit to the night, he walked over to the side of his bed you were sleeping on. Normally it was his side, but he could tell you planted yourself there for a reason, and who was he to disturb that?
He kneeled next to the bed, and only when he tucked your hair behind your ear did he notice that you were sound asleep.
All the makeup you worked so hard on was gone without a trace, your eyes were swollen and your nose was stained pink. Although you were sad, he couldn't help but to smile. He thought you looked just as beautiful this way.
Realizing he didn't want to wake you, he planted a feather light kiss to your head before walking back to the other side to slide in next to you.
Though he tried his hardest, you woke up to slowly being engulfed by your favorite strong arms, and pulled against your favorite warm body. You shuffled backwards a bit to meet the front of his body with the back of yours, one of your hands intertwined with one of his while the other held onto his forearm that was keeping you safe and secure. You brought the back of his hand to your mouth before kissing it and tucking it into your chest close to your heart.
"I'm sorry" you sleepily mumbled, feeling a pang of physical pain as he held you so tenderly.
"I'm not allowing you to apologize for something that's not your fault." Steve denied. "None of that has ever been your fault."
"You shouldn't have had to hear that, or see me like that. So, I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't be." Steve settled, his chin nuzzling into the top of your head. "I'm sorry you've been treated like that for so much of your life. You deserved so much better."
"I'm not allowing you to apologize for something that's not your fault" You repeated his words. "Thank you for sticking up for me, that's the first time anyone has ever spoken up to her."
"Anytime, Princess." He squeezed your hand. "I hope you know that you aren't the one your father would be disappointed in."
You nodded, feeling the tears rush back to your eyes. If you speak another word they would flood the gates and flow until you got yourself to sleep again.
"He would be proud, so so proud of you. I'm proud of you. Everyone in their right minds is proud of you, and the world owes you an un-payable debt."
"I didn't even do anything that special" Your voice accidentally jumped an octave higher in your losing battle against your tears.
"Yes you did, and I'll shout it from the rooftops until you understand." He squeezed you a little tighter. "I think the whole world of you. No matter what your role, daughter, avenger, friend, girlfriend, maybe even mom one day if you want to be, you hit the ball out of the park. You exceed all expectations, and if someone can't see that, that's on them. That's not on you. I'm the luckiest man in the universe to have the privilege of loving you."
"I love you so much" You told him, squeezing your eyes shut to try and stop the tears.
"I love you too." He calmly exhaled. "Are you feeling okay? Do you need a snack or some water?"
"I'm okay, I think I just need to sleep." You slowly flipped onto your other side to face him.
"Okay." He let you dig your face into his chest as he held you tightly in his arms to hide you away from the world that had hurt you tonight. "Wake me up if you need me, alright? Sweet dreams, sweet girl.
"Sleep tight." You mumbled into his chest.
He woke up pretty late the next morning given that everyone had been awake until 2am the previous night. The sun was shining aggressively bright through the large windows and hitting his eyes, he could hear birds chirping and the hustle and bustle of whatever was going on outside. You weren't with him in bed, but he could hear the sounds of cookware in the kitchen, the unusual whirl of the mixer being used.
He got up and stretched, not even bothered to fix his hair before dragging his feet all the way to the common area that was oddly empty except for you.
You could hear him coming, the shuffling socks on the hardwood was a dead giveaway. He stopped and looked around before blinking slowly at you in confusion.
"Where is everyone?" He questioned sleepily, sitting down on a stool at the island and letting his head and back slump forward onto his elbows.
"Deployed." You answered, measuring out powdered sugar to add to the butter and vanilla in the mixer.
"Really?"
"Yep" you popped the P dramatically. "Literally everyone but us two got put on emergency last night around 4. They must've heard what happened and decided to cut us some slack, we have the whole place to ourselves." You grinned with amusement.
Your dimpled cheeks were so refreshing to his worried and busy mind.
"Hmmm" he hummed, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander for a while.
After a few minutes, you placed a cup of coffee in front of him just how he liked it before rubbing his back and kissing the adorable blonde mess on top of his head. "Still sleepy?"
"I'm getting old, baby. I stay up late for one night and I feel like I have to sleep for two days to recover." He complained, perking up at the smell of coffee.
"Well, you can sleep all day if you want and nobody is here to make fun of you for it." You noted, stopping the mixer once your frosting was nice and smooth.
"Sounds so nice" Steve yawned after taking down some coffee and letting his head fall again.
As you put the frosting into a piping bag with a metal tip on it, you mind couldn't escape last night. You were trying your very hardest to disregard all the weird thoughts your mom planted into your head, especially the ones about your relationship with Steve.
You never questioned the dynamic before, no one has ever brought it up, but now you were clouded and fogged by worry.
A morning alone with him should feel domestic and happy, a small glimpse into what the future could hold if you chose that for yourselves.
Rain falling outside, both of you bundled up in your coziest clothes, your extra lazy boyfriend falling asleep slumped over the island with a hot cup of coffee, homemade cupcakes that were begging for some frosting.
People would kill for moments like these, and you couldn't even enjoy it through your racing heart and even faster mind. Your mom made you question your intentions with your sweet boy with one single glance, and now you couldn't help but to feel like he deserved better all over again.
You should've been brave and stood up for yourself. You should've told her how you really felt, aired out all your dirty laundry, screamed it from the top of your lungs, but instead you mumbled and muttered and cried.
Brave, mighty, strong, none of those words seemed to suit you. Maybe this really wasn't the job for you, and that feeling of uncertainty you had the first few weeks here was more of a gut feeling you weren't cut out for this.
You mindlessly piped frosting onto the cupcakes and got halfway through the dozen before Steve's head popped up in realization and pouted.
"You're baking?" He asked.
"Mhm" you nodded quietly, eyes fixed on the cupcake you were working on.
"Not feeling very talkative?"
"Just a little tired, that's all." You tried to convince him you were okay as to not inconvenience him any more than you already have.
He didn't do much in response to that, and it made your heart sink. You fully convinced yourself that he had given up on you.
You officially annoyed him and pushed jokes too far while you were drunk last night, you shouldn't have let Bucky hug you the way he did, maybe you should've found a different color dress that matched your complexion a little better.
"Oh my god!" You squeaked in surprise when you were lifted up and placed sat on the counter. "What the heck, man?!"
Piping bag still in hand, cupcakes pushed out of the way, Steve stood between your legs. You didn't even notice him get up or hear him coming.
"I love you, do you not understand that?" Steve questioned with all the seriousness in the world dropping from his tone.
"I'm confused" You cocked your head to the side.
He took the bag of frosting out of your hand and placed it on the counter. "You only bake when you're sad. I can tell your mind is running away from you, and you're shutting me out."
"I didn't mean to shut you out" you admitted sadly, your gut already telling you what's coming.
"You don't have to lie to me and say that you're tired instead of saying what's actually wrong. You know I can tell the difference."
"I'm sorry, I- it's just tha-" you scrambled to try and explain what what going on in your head. "I'm trying to process. That's all."
"You still won't even look at me." Steve told you, coming your hair through his fingers. "Why?"
You made it a point to look at his face, and all you saw was golden honey, the sweet angel who you've grown to love with all your heart.
You sighed and slumped.
"You can tell me the truth" he reminded you sweetly.
"My mom takes my self esteem and crushes it into tiny little pieces" You let the words leave your mouth. "Right now, I'm trying to convince myself that everything my brain is telling me is a lie and that I deserve to be here with you."
"Look at me" He grabbed hold of your chin between his thumb and pointer finger to direct your head back up. When you looked him in the eyes, he continued speaking. "I love you. All of you. Everything about you. If you need me to say that a billion times to believe it, I'll do it."
"Do you want a cupcake?" You offered, picking up a frosted one off the counter.
"I love you"
"There's no sprinkles yet but I can put some one really quick"
"I love you"
"It's vanilla cake with american buttercream" you started unwrapping it.
"I love you"
"I know you like cream cheese frosting but we were out of cream cheese so this was the best I could do."
"I love you"
"Steve" You complained.
"Hmm?" His hand rubbed your thigh while the other remained on your back.
"Will you please eat this cupcake before I lose my mind?" You pleated.
He took it from your hands and put it to your mouth prompting to take a bite first, and once you did he took one too.
"Oh my god" he thew his head back. "So fucking good. Another reason why I love you so much."
"Steve"
"What?"
"I love you" You told him.
"I know you do" He set the other half of the cupcake down, taking note that he would definitely finish it later. "Quite honestly, I'm a little offended that you don't know that I love you. Means I'm not doing my job right."
"I know you do, you're doing your job very well." You told him, he pulled you forward so he could touch just a little more of you.
"But?" He raised an eyebrow.
"But... how I'm feeling right now is not your fault. You shouldn't feel a responsibility to fix it. I'll be okay, I just need some time."
"Can I have more frosting please?" Steve asked politely.
Too wrapped up in your own mind to verbally respond, you grabbed the piping bag next to you, and squeezed some onto his finger that he had held out and waiting.
He quickly smeared the frosting onto the tip of your nose before his cheeks turned pink and a laugh escaped.
"Oh you suck" You but the inside of your cheek to try and contain the smile you didn't want him to know you had. "Jokes on you, you didn't even get to eat anymore frosting. Let me help you out with that"
You squeezed the bag as hard as you could over his lips, he turned his head to try and get away but it ended up smearing all the way up the left side of his cheek.
His mouth hung open for a moment in surprise before swiping it off his face and into his mouth.
"Just as delicious when I eat it off my face" He stated, then boldly licked it off the tip of your nose. "And yours"
"You're crazy" You said while wiping your nose with the back of your hand with joy that seemed to be breaking through the thick barrier of sadness. "And still so handsome, even with frosting face"
"Yeah?" A lopsided smile poked through.
"Yeah"
Steve grabbed the sides of your face before going in for a steady kiss, lengthy and impassioned. Just his lips alone were telling you everything you needed to know, like he was speaking to you through through physical touch. Just when you started to feel like you needed to catch your breath, he pulled away and let his forehead settle on yours.
"However you feel, however she makes you feel is not your fault." He whispered against your lips. "But what I'm never going to let her do is dictate the way you feel about yourself, and let her get into your head about the way I feel about you."
In a moment of lust and desperation to not have to process the hard emotions that came with the words he was speaking to you, you initiated another buttercream flavored kiss. Vanilla and sugar tasted oh so sweet on his tongue as his hands traveled down to your hips. Once again, the unfortunate human need to breath to survive got in the way of your plans to shut him up.
"I've never doubted your ability to keep up. You are your own toughest critic. I've never met anyone more capable of being here and being mine." He continued, planting a few quick pecks to your silky smooth lips. "I thank the universe for you every day, and I love you."
"Damn it, Steve." You dramatically flailed your arms before running your hands up his back. "How do you always know what to say and do to make any situation better? How are you this perfect?"
It started becoming a little hard to speak between kisses, and even though you were now glued to his front and latched onto him like a koala, you still couldn't seem to get close enough.
"I just thi-"
"Will you stop for a second and just keep kissing me?" You spoke against his lips. "I can't get enough of you."
"Yes ma'am" He nodded with shades of pink quickly stippling across his cheeks before following strict orders.
Passing time was a concept that completely dissipated as the two of you entangled yourself. Seconds, minutes, hours, none of it mattered. Not when your mouths tasted like cupcakes and your bodies were so warm to contrast the winter rain hitting the windows.
Your hands were never shy to roam and dance around his incredible body, you loved gliding your hands over all the smooth bumps and ridges of muscle. As you snuck your hands up the back of his hoodie, they found their rightful place on his shoulder blades. He physically shivered and you could feel goosebumps raise on his skin causing both of you to giggle into each others kiss.
"You know the good part of the whole team being gone is that we get to eat all the cupcakes by ourselves" Steve spoke again now that he found a natural break in the heat of the moment.
"I'm sure you'll have no issue accomplishing that" You agreed with him.
"And you know the other good part of the whole team being gone?"
"Hmm?" You questioned.
"I get to take my time with you." He kissed the very corner of you jaw right under your ear. "Savor every square inch of you" working his way down your neck, he made it to your collar bones. "You get to be as loud as you need, and I get to take you right here, right now."
His words got you worked up embarrassingly fast. The crimson headache flooded all of your logical reasoning, and every single part of your body was aching to get him closer, take him deeper, crawl into him. It was intoxicating.
"People eat on this counter, baby" You tried reasoning with him, though you were a little more than excited for what was about to come.
"I'll clean it" He pulled your sweater over your head just to be visibly annoyed by your tank top underneath. Attaching your mouths in a steamy kiss dialed up a thousand degrees, more worry filled your head.
"The cameras" You wined feeling like there were too many obstacles in the way. "What if someone hears us?"
He had never been this risky or adventurous before, it had your head spinning and your center throbbing with need. "Friday" Steve called out to the artificial intelligence controlling the building while working off his own sweatshirt.
"How may I assist you, Captain?" She responded just as he got it over his head and tossed it on the floor.
"Turn on private sector soundproofing, and turn off visual and audio recording" He had to practically pry you off of him as you started making advances on him, your hands wandered down the front of his stomach while you kissed his shoulders in attempts to get his pants off.
He caught your wrists in his hands and shook his head before attaching your lips together hungrily as Friday assisted in the necessary steps before the two of you could shed more layers.
"Request complete."
"This isn't about me, so don't even try it." He informed you, voice husky with arousal. "I want you to feel how loved you are, so all I want you to do is relax, feel good, and take it. Okay?"
"That seems a little unfa-" He cut you off by attaching your lips and grabbing the bottom of you tank top to pull over your head.
"Okay?" He asked again once you were in sweatpants and a bra. It was less of a question and more of a demand.
"Okay" You released a shaky breath and a semi-nervous nod.
No matter how many times you found yourself in this position with him, you never found yourself to be less nervous about it. He always made you feel comfortable, cared for and so so good, but he was just so incredibly beautiful and commanding.
It was like ravenous butterflies exploding out of your stomach, and flooding upwards into your racing heart, tingly lips, swarming in your brain. Just looking at his blown out pupils and fast breathing made you feel needy and restless until you got exactly what your body needed.
He pulled your body closer once more, kissing you as one hand unhooked the back of your bra and the other held the back of you head steady. You shrugged it off and he tossed it onto the floor.
Steve couldn't help the satisfaction as you began to take off your own pants for him, so quick to trust him and allow him to make you feel good that you did the work to get him exactly where you needed him as fast as you could. All while his hands massaged your boobs, nipples between his thumb and forefingers, and his lips sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin on your neck that always left you whimpering.
"You looked so beautiful last night" he stated as his hands made their way to your hips, they squeezed gently before they removed the last remaining piece of fabric from your body leaving you completely bare for him. "I thought, wow how could anything be more beautiful than my girl right now? Then I woke up and saw you, and somehow I'm having those same thoughts all over again."
He kissed slowly down your body while pulling you forward to the very edge of the counter, and just as his lips made it to your lower belly, he stood back up and kissed your lips. He used his own body to encourage you to lay back onto your elbows as his hands massaged you thighs, they squeezed and moved in appreciation, celebrating how strong and soft they were. A risky movement occasionally sent a finger too close to where you needed him, and when his mouth attached to you right nipple, you almost saw stars.
Steve pulled his favorite sound out of you, tiny whimpers traveled from your throat, into his ears and right to his dick. Pleasuring you was his greatest form of gratification, nothing made him harder more than knowing you felt good.
"Baby" You complained, obvious need dripping from your voice.
"What's wrong, honey?" He pouted at your whine, almost mocking you.
"You're such a tease"
"We've got all day" He devilishly grinned, more fingers grazing your center. "So much time"
You felt so needy, throbbing beyond comprehension you couldn't even help yourself. You needed something, anything. "Please" you begged.
"How would you like me to please you?" He asked, just the idea of getting to choose made you let out a little noise.
Steve knew that you were completely oblivious to the way your hips were subtly rocking back and forth to try any feel anything at all, your thighs squeezed together to try and create friction. He wasn't having that, so he spread your legs apart and stood between them again so you physically couldn't close them.
"Something, anything" Your head spun.
"I just love you so much that I want to kiss every inch of you." He justified his actions. Holding onto your wrist, he kissed all the way down your upper arm to the back of your hand. Grabbing the piping bag once more, he squeezed frosting onto your two dominant fingers before shoving them into his mouth to lick it off and letting them linger while he coated them the best he could. You were speechless and so turned on that you we're convinced the pressure in your pussy would make you explode if you didn’t do anything about it soon.
"I want you to love yourself as much as I love you" He popped your fingers out of his mouth and guided your hand downward, making you touch yourself. "And since you're feeling too desperate to let me warship you the way that I want, you're going to practice some self love."
You couldn't even control yourself as you ran your fingers through your folds before adding pressure and drawing little circles around your overly sensitive clit. Letting out a moan, you couldn't believe how good you felt. All of this behavior was so new to Steve, it was naughtier and dirtier than your very private and vanilla prince ever let on. The whole scenario added to your pleasure as your mind ran laps around how hot it was.
"There you go" he sighed, finally feeling like you could both have exactly what you wanted.
Usually you'd feel a little self conscious under anyone's watchful eye, let-alone someone who looked like Steve, but his eyes were telling you that he wanted to devour you whole.
More moans continued to slip out past your mouth as you pleasured yourself in front of him, and he massaged, nipped and sucked anywhere he could get access to.
"How does that feel, princess?" He questioned, kissing you before you even got the chance to answer. "You making yourself feel good?"
"Mhm" You moaned out something close to a response.
"You look so pretty like this" He spoke into the shell of your ear. "Is this what you do when we're away from each other?"
"Yeah" you squeaked. “Miss you too much when you’re gone”
"When you send me all those naughty pictures when you know damn well there's nothing I can do to help myself?" He teased. "It's even more beautiful in person- watching you get off and I'm not even doing anything to help."
"Steve, please" You moaned, his words carried you a lot further than you'd like to admit.
"Nuhuh. Nope" He denied. "I'm not even going to think about touching your pussy until you give yourself all the love you need. Make yourself cum, then I'll consider."
New mission in mind, you started working towards your goal. Slipping in two fingers, one after the other while continuing to play with your bud made that fire in your belly burn even brighter.
Steve could tell you were getting closer, all he could do was prey that you'd climax soon because he's never wanted to please someone more than in this moment. You just looked so helpless, but that was something you'd have to get through all on your own.
"Besides, I'm enjoying the show a little too much to put an end to it yet." He smiled.
Although he was putting on a front, he wasn't a complete asshole and he still wanted you to feel his love stemming through every moment your bare skin was under his hands, so he continued to play with your nipples to deliver as much gratification as he could without touching you where he vowed not to.
More moans flowed and each one was louder and more worked up than the next, that pressure kept building and that fire kept burning hotter and hotter but it never snapped.
Thoroughly frustrated, you babbled out what you think was along the lines of "ugh,baby, I can't. I can't- please"
"Yes you can" Steve reassured you. "Come on, sweetheart, make yourself cum."
You thrusted your fingers in and out of your hole a little faster, rubbed your clit a little harder, and felt all the more frustrated.
"You make such pretty sounds, my love." He cooed in your ear. "We've got so much time, why do you want to cum so fast? Hmm?"
"I want you to fuck me" You cried out.
"Wow, all this just for me?" He asked. "Can't even imagine how pretty you'll sound when I finally touch you."
The pressure built and built...
"I've never wanted to make love to you more than I do right here, right now. Cum for me, let me make you feel good honey." He whispered.
His lips met yours once more then...
Snap.
You gasped and moaned a little louder than usual, Steve smiled against you.
"There she is!" He exclaimed proudly as you painted and tried to catch your breath. "How was that?"
"So dirty." You finally giggled, feeling a million pounds lighter with release. “I love it when you’re naughty like this.”
“You left me no choice” Steve tucked your hair behind your ear. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Oh, I feel great” You nodded with a tired attempt at a smile.
“Yeah? You wanna keep going?” He questioned searching for a genuine response. “This is all about you, my love.”
His genuine concern for your well-being during sex always made you want him even more.
“Please.” You nodded before reaching your hands around his neck and pulling his bare torso against you and attaching your lips. All you wanted in that moment was to feel his skin on yours.
“Need a break?” He offered.
“Steve”
“I love the way you say my name” He admitted, kissing your nose.
“Will you please just fuck me?”
“I will” He reassured you. “…eventually.”
You closed your eyes and accepted that you would get what you wanted with time.
“But for now, I have other plans.” He stood up to his full height, never allowing his hands to remain still against your skin. “Just relax”
“It’s a little hard to relax with you between my legs” You admitted.
“That sounds like a personal problem” he stated before sinking to his knees, and his hands finally making it to your pussy. His thumb very gently started working your clit again until he felt like you were ready to take his fingers. After sliding one in and curving it slightly upwards, your beautiful sounds came back to warm his soul. “Poor baby, you’re so wet.”
“Wonder how that happened” You sassed, eyes remaining closed to try and allow yourself to actually relax and concentrate on the sensation he was providing to your body.
With no warning, his thumb disappeared and was replaced by his mouth. His tongue explored for a few moments before his lips attached and started sucking and licking your bud.
It pulled a heavenly moan and you rocked your hips before falling back onto your elbows, your fingers lacing in his hair. Steve’s head popped up in a small moment of concern.
"Sorry, did I hurt you?” He asked, hands roaming the curves of your hips.
“God no- that felt so good” You shook your head, opening your eyes to look at him. “Keep going.”
“Okay, let me know if something hurts” He said, you knew he was always scared of not knowing his own strength accidentally hurting you. This conversation happened a minimum of once per every sexual interaction you two had.
"Darling... I'm not made of sugar" You reassured, caressing his head in your hands.
"You sure do taste like it" He retorted before attaching his mouth again.
His mouth was so warm creating a lovely contrast between the cold marble counter you laid on and his fingers made good work of that spongy spot inside your hole that he loved to call his best friend.
“Holy shit” You gasped, trying to bring back lost air from your lungs. “Oh fuck, yes, right there, keep going” you exclaimed as his mouth deliciously worked your clit in tandem with his fingers. That fire came back and burned bright with a vengeance.
You tried your hardest to keep your hips still, but the feeling was so overwhelming you couldn’t even control your movements.
Steve loved it when you started riding his face because he knew he was doing his job right. He was rewarded with your fluttering walls gripping onto his fingers, you dripped down his chin and coated his mouth deliciously.
“C-an you even breatmmmmm holy fuck” You cried out.
Quite honestly, he could’ve cum in his pants just from the noises you made alone. If he wasn’t so entranced by the taste of you on his tongue, and focused on making your mind think of nothing but him and his mouth he would’ve told you that he didn’t need to breathe, and that he could always catch his breath after he died of suffocation.
If that’s how he left this world, he would have gone a happy man.
“Right there, right there” You moaned out, completely unsure of how he even knew how to make you feel this good in the first place. “Just like that”
Since he was a smart man, he kept doing exactly what he was doing. His mouth continued licking and sucking as his fingers remained at the same pace.
As you panted and babbled out words and sounds that no longer made sense, he couldn’t help but to focus on the way you tightened around his fingers. You were so warm and wet his cock was twitching desperately in his pants, impatiently waiting for its own turn to please you.
Apparently, his mind ran so far away from him that he didn’t even notice the way you shuttered and bucked your hips right before your second orgasm crashed over you so hard that your legs shook and you couldn’t even squeak out a sound if you tried.
It pulled his mind right back to you, and he continued the motions with his tongue, licking up every last drop until your head lulled to the side and your body went limp.
You managed to produce a few pathetic whimpers as he continued going, it was becoming a little too sensitive to bare so grabbed his face and pulled him up. “Okay, okay, holy shit”
“Wanna taste?” He asked before hungrily attaching your lips.
It was intoxicating what he did to you. Your body felt limp and spent as if you could sleep for two weeks without a single care, yet when he attached his soggy face to yours and the taste of buttercream was replaced with your own essence, you found the energy to sit yourself up and kiss him until you were the one suffocating.
You reached for the band of his sweatpants, and he was two steps ahead of you trying to kick them off without having to remove his grip on your body.
Pulling them down for him, he was able to step out of them while keeping his mind and body focused on making out with you. You did the same with his boxers, and when his dick sprang free all you wanted was to take it into you hands.
It was his turn to gasp as you reached between your bodies to stroke him. He was hard as a rock, already twitching and leaking out in anticipation.
Just looking at it had you gushing all over again, completely unable to grasp how you could possibly be the one making him so pathetically hard without a single touch.
“Do you see what you do to me?” He questioned, taking himself into his own hand and pumping while you spread your legs in anticipation.
You nodded and gulped down a mouthful of drool, just wishing he would let you taste it but you knew that wouldn’t slide in this very moment. “Please, let me feel you.” Your arms found their way around his neck.
“You sure?” He checked in one last time just to make sure.
“Are you going to make me do it myself?” You asked desperately, only moments away from sticking it in for him.
“I’m all yours” He told you before stepping towards you one last time to close any distance, then slowly slid in the tip.
Watching your face warp with pleasure was the most beautiful sight and it gave him the butterflies every single time. As he kept slowly pushing his length into you, it felt better than a physical connection. It was always more than that.
It felt like intertwining your souls, becoming one being together. And when he was fully sheathed, he never failed to be incredibly loved by you. You gave him so much of yourself, so much of your body, so much of your trust that he felt a responsibility to do the only thing he could- make you feel just as loved in return.
No matter how hard he had to fight the urge to move, he always waited until you moved first. His eyes squeezed shut and his mouth parted as you gave him the physical green light to start rocking his hips.
He started slow until he could feel your body relax around him, then he thrusted faster. “There you go, you’re taking me so well Honey”
You felt absolutely ethereal, letting go of every single thought that wasn’t Steve in that very moment.
As he continued to thrust into you, he laid you back util you were fully laying on the counter with your legs crossed around his back. He leaned over you and cradled his hands under your head to hold you close and make sure you were comfortable.
He kissed you passionately, sweeter than sugar as your hand roamed his back and the other squeezed the back of his neck.
You moaned into each other’s mouths as he found that sweet spot inside of you once more, and your mind went completely numb. He detached your lips but kept his face close to maintain eye contact.
“You’re absolutely decadent, my sweet Angel” he panted, and although his thrusts were slower than his normal pace, it felt overwhelmingly good. He was conveying his message perfectly, this was nothing but making love. “Nobody could ever make me feel the way you do, you know that?”
He continued hitting your sweet spot over and over again, making your eyes squeeze shut and your waist curve up off the counter.
“Open your eyes, sweetie, let me see your face”
You listened to his words, and he smiled when he saw your eyes again. His face was full of pleasure, and the thought of him feeling just as good as you were made your walls squeeze tightly around him.
“Holy shit, baby.” His head dropped into the crook of your neck as he savored your warmth, but it quickly popped back up again to look at you. “I love you so fucking much”
“I love you too” You moaned, running your fingers through his messy hair.
His thrusts turned into deep, long strokes that had you seeing stars.
“Oh my god, oh my- jesus” you gasped, fluttering around him.
“You feel so fucking good” he cried out. “Only you. You are the only one who could ever make me feel like this. Do you understand how incredible you are?”
You whimpered some more, holding onto him for dear life, “Steve-“
“I know, baby.” He kissed you, and when he attached his lips to your mouth he felt you fluttering even more.
So, he kept kissing you and trying to hang onto the pressure building in his own stomach as his balls twitched with every thrust.
You two stayed like that for a while, holding each other in your arms, kissing until you couldn’t breath, basking in the pleasure of each others bodies while he tried to fuck the very concept of your own greatness into your hard head.
Nothing but the sounds of moans, breathing, and skin slapping filled the room while you opened your eyes and looked up at him again.
Your heart skipped a beat or two as the realization of what he’s been trying to tell you finally sank in. Tears filled your eyes as you really looked at his sweet face, and his love clouded all of your senses.
You looked deeply into his blue eyes that held nothing but admiration for you, they were turned slightly upwards, desperate to make sure you understood the gravity of his true feelings. He touched your body in all the right places to make you feel all the right things, but at the same time he touched your heart and connected your souls. You could hear verbal affirmation of your effects on him. Heavy breathing, heavenly moans, and constant declarations of love. He genuinely meant and believed in every single one of them. The smell of his fresh cologne and your bodies mingling filled your nose, with the occasional whiff of vanilla cupcakes. But you were okay with that, vanilla always reminded you of him. When you tasted the product of your sacred love on his lips, it all seemed to make sense. You loved him, and he loved you back.
It really was that pure. It really was that simple.
So when there was physical evidence that you finally understood his point, and you made love to him so decadently, the efforts of his love washed over you once again.
A big physical release, along with a big mental release of all the self doubt you had been harboring since the moment you met him in that hallway.
His love spilled into you as the euphoria set in your brain, and you held him as close as you could. Sitting up as his movements became still, your arms locked him in tight, and your face shoved into the crook of his neck.
He left little kisses on your shoulder as he pulled out. He could’ve been speaking words to you, but you didn’t hear them. All you cared about was soaking in this moment.
Especially when he picked you up in his strong arms and you wrapped around him like a koala. He brought you into his room and got the two of you snuggled up in his bed for maximum comfort.
He could always clean the two of you up later, and the clothes on the kitchen floor weren’t going to run away if he didn’t immediately retrieve them, but right now was a moment that needed to be savored.
The two of you caught your breath together amongst the soft blankets against your bare skin.
Your arms squeezed him nice and tight before your body went limp against him. Snuggled up to his side with your head on his shoulder, legs tangled, your hand on his chest and his hand playing with your hair.
You intertwined your free hands, they rested comfortably on his stomach and your eyes focused on the matching friendship bracelets that have seen better days.
With no one around, and nothing but a head massage to occupy your mind, you finally felt like you knew where you belonged.
It was a place where you didn’t have to change yourself as a defense mechanism like a chameleon.
You didn’t have to put yourself under so much pressure that you shifted into something completely different like carbon into a diamond.
You didn’t need to save the world and all the people in it to prove your worth.
You were already worthy.
You belonged with Steve.
“I love you” You told him sleepily and spent.
“I love you too” You mumbled back, kissing the top of your head.
He smiled knowing that this time, you genuinely believed him.
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bigskyandthecoldgun · 5 months
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steve having a cat that refuses to be touched by anyone but him (it tolerates robin by extension ofc bc it has accepted the reality that they’re a package deal), and eddie gets warned by the entire party that steve’s cat hates people who aren’t steve or robin. eddie’s fully prepared to get scratched the fuck up, but the cat’s almost as friendly with him as it is with steve. huh. weird.
meanwhile, steve’s poor cat is trying to figure out a way to get its owner to stop being so sad all the time, and when one of the strange people he spends time with makes steve smile, the cat is determined to keep him around at all costs.
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in his 40s after 20 years of tours, award ceremonies and parties with fucking celebrities, Steve finally went back to school and studied to start working as a councilor in a high school.
He quickly becomes a favourite staff member among the students, especially the ones in the GSA he founded and runs. But to them, he is a complete mystery. He takes to just dropping shocking pieces of information in the middle of a conversation to watch the students’ shock. and he shamelessly uses the promise of a story to bribe students into behaving.
the best reaction by far, is the one he gets at graduation every year, when he tells that year’s graduating GSA members that he is indeed married to Eddie Munson, front man of the very famous metal band ‘corroded coffin’.
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rogue-alien · 2 months
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stevebabey · 8 months
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As Steve had found, sleeping beside Eddie is perhaps the most fantastic nightmare-repellant out there.
It’s why it’s so surprising when Steve lurches out of his sleep, sudden and unexpected. He startles a bit, confusion muddling in his brain as it braces for the familiar wash of terror… that never comes.
Instead of feeling doused in cold water, gasping and aghast, there’s a grogginess moving through his veins— something else, besides a nightmare, has woken him up.
It takes him another second to realise it’s Eddie’s hand. Eddie’s hand on his face.
“Wuh?” Steve rasps out.
He blinks slowly, the ceiling bleeding into his field of vision. It’s still dark out, indicated by the faint amber glow of streetlights spilling through the slit in the curtains. As sleep trickles out of his system, confusion takes it place — what is Eddie’s hand doing on his face?
As if the thought summons the action, Eddie’s hand on his face shifts, splaying across his cheek with a soft slap. He pats Steve’s cheek once, twice.
“Gone skip to town, baby.” Eddie says loudly.
What? Steve feels his face screw up, brows drawn together as he tries to make sense what Eddie’s just said. Gone to what? He pushes the hand off his face and lifts his head, peering across the darkness to the other side of the bed.
“What?”
“The river rapids told ‘em.” Eddie says, making no sense.
Steve squints and, wait, holy shit, is Eddie still asleep? A grin sneaks onto his face and just to be sure, he leans across and waves his hand an inch above Eddie’s nose. Nothing, not even a twitch. Holy shit.
“Told them what?” Steve asks, shifting up on one elbow to see if Eddie will respond.
“Where to go.” Eddie says, matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raising and falling as he says.
Steve snorts, his head ducking forward to smother it, even though Eddie seems far from waking. In fact, he snuffles a bit and turns his head towards Steve, nosing into the pillow. Steve can see his feet wiggling beneath the covers.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Mmf,” Eddie mumbles into the pillow. “Muffin man.”
“The muffin man?”
“What’s it to ya?”
Steve guffaws at the sudden Cockney accent that’s taken over Eddie’s voice. It makes him laugh so much that, incidentally, it’s loud enough to wake the other up. Steve’s pressing his face into his pillow, silent laughter shaking his frame, when Eddie’s bleary “…Steve?” reaches his ears.
He can’t stop laughing, a funny sounding squawk coming out his throat the moment he tries to explain. Eddie takes it the wrong way, a hand on Steve’s shoulder in a moment, that soft hushing voice dipped in sleep. “Steve? Baby? Was it another one?”
Steve rolls his face out so Eddie can see his stupid smile, can hear his laughter escaping out into the quiet night. He sees Eddie freeze as realisation moves slowly through him.
“You’re… laughing?”
It’s said with a breath of relief and Eddie’s entire body relaxes a bit. He swipes his hand up Steve’s shoulder, thumbing gently at his neck. “What? What’s s’funny?”
“You—” Steve manages to wheeze out one word. “—Sleeptalking.”
The two words are instantaneous, Eddie’s entire frame flopping down back onto the bed, bursting into his own sleepy giggles. Apparently, this is not the first time someone’s had this conversation with him.
“You fucking slept-talked, man.” Steve continues, his laughter finally beginning to die down. He’s still grinning, especially at the mirrored mutual, but slightly embarrassed, joy on Eddie’s face.
“It only happens sometimes,” Eddie admits bashfully. He grins across the pillow at Steve, wiping at one of his eyes tiredly. “When I sleep real deep.”
He lets out a deep yawn as if to prove it and Steve can’t help but yawn too. Damn, he was having a really good sleep— still, he can’t be mad at being woken for this.
“What exactly I’d say?”
“Ah, just,” Steve considers the truth and then discards it for a lie. “Talkin’ about how much you love my ass.”
Eddie’s cheeks turn red enough that it can be seen even in the dim light of the nighttime. He groans and buries his face in the pillow for a moment, before digging it back out. He darts across the sheets, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s shoulder.
“Well, it’s true.” He says, before turning over. His voice is a little muffled with his face turned away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, if I get back to sleep quick enough, I’ll have the same dream.”
Steve’s sure he’s got that dopey smile on his face that labels him positively whipped. He snuggles closer anyways, hand crawling over the dip in Eddie’s waist to tuck in, his body pressing up flush behind Eddie’s, a pair of perfect spoons.
“I’ll let you get back to that then, baby.” Steve hums, planting his own kiss on Eddie’s shoulder. Sleep claims them both, Eddie first and Steve… much later. But, well, Steve figures he’s lost sleep over a lot of things worse than this.
saw sleeptalking (and walking) eddie in this piece by @dwobbitfromtheshire and i literally. i was thinking bout sleeptalking eddie all day like headcanon freaking accepted— that boy talks stupid shit in his sleep 🫶 hope it’s ok to tag u! i wanted to give u credit
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a-little-unsteddie · 3 months
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cw: child abuse mentioned, child neglect
Steve, who was never allowed to play in the snow as a child because it was ‘too messy’. Steve, who stared longingly outside as he watched other kids play in the snow. Steve, wanting to build a snowman, or an igloo, or have a snowball fight, but was denied each and every time by his parents. “It’s uncouth, Steven.” “It’s dirty, Steven.” “You’ll just whine that you’re cold, Steven.” “No.” “No.” “No.” Until he stopped asking altogether, even as he stared out his bedroom window at the other kids playing. Steve who loves the snow but was never allowed to play. The one time he snuck out, he was brought inside being dragged by his ear and spanked until he cried.
And then some for crying at all.
Steve goes shopping with his mom and sees a snow globe and all but cries for her to get it for him. If he can’t have the snow outside, he wants to have a snow globe to have it inside. She lets him get it, but not without commenting ‘at least it’s not going outside’.
Thus starts a collection, of sorts. Whenever he sees a new snow globe, he makes his mom buy him it and because he never asks to go outside to play in the snow if she buys one, she keeps buying them for him.
He has around 10 or 15 snow globes by the time he’s a teenager and left alone more than he isn’t. He still doesn’t go out to play in the snow, even if he silently yearns to, because now he’s ‘too old’ to play out in the snow. Tommy doesn’t like being cold, so he never goes out, and Carol won’t do something if Tommy’s not there, so Steve doesn’t bother asking her to go outside.
Steve becomes friends with Dustin and the rest of the party, and he still doesn’t let himself play with them, even when Dustin begs him to. He passes on the same excuses to him as his mom told him, and the words feel like ash in his mouth, but he doesn’t just play in the snow like he’s aching to. It’s too cold, he’ll be wet and miserable later, he doesn’t want to get water all over the house.
Mostly, they’re excuses because he’s kind of worried he doesn’t know how to play in the snow. That somehow he’ll be bad at it.
Eventually, when he and Robin become friends and their first winter together happens, he tells her this secret fear. It’s right after the kids go out to play, and it’s just them, and he whispers to her.
“I don’t think I’ll be any good at it.”
Robin is confused, of course, because how can you be ‘bad’ at playing in the snow? He elaborates to her that he’s never played and she’s less confused but more angry at his parents, which he thinks is an over reaction and she insists he’s having an under reaction, whatever that means, and the moment passes. Steve is relieved to have revealed that much to her. He still doesn’t go outside, and Robin gets cold easily, so she doesn’t want to go outside, so they stay inside together.
He still collects snow globes, when he sees them. He buys one in front of the kids and brushes it off as a white elephant gift for a family thing, but displays it in the unused guest bedroom with the rest of the snow globes. It’s on the other side of the house from where every other guest bed is, so usually no one takes it, and so he knows his collection is safe.
Even if he keeps it secret, and plans to keep it secret forever, until the following winter, after the spring break from hell and after the grueling summer and cool fall brings the snow again and Eddie Munson is a menace in his life. He’s by far the most energetic person that he’s ever been friends with, all touches and open affection, it’s almost too easy to fall for him.
Eddie is nosy as hell and of course it’s him that finds the collection of snow globes.
“What’s this?” Eddie’s voice echoes from down the hall and it takes Steve a few seconds to process where his voice is coming from before he’s rushing down the hall and into the unused guest room.
Along the left wall, there’s a shelf that stretches from wall-to-wall filled with snow globes.
Embarrassment shoots through him, and he shrugs. “…snow globes.” he explains badly, wincing when Eddie turns towards him with an unimpressed look. It quickly morphs into concern because for some reason, Steve’s started tearing up and once the tears start they don’t stop.
“Hey, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Eddie soothes, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, sweet thing.”
And the thing is, Steve does want to explain. Suddenly overcome with the urge to spill everything, in fact. So he does. He tells Eddie about his mom and dad refusing to let him play in the snow, the one time he got caught and got spanked for it, the snow globes, the fear of being bad at playing in the snow, still desperately wanting to despite it.
Through it all, Eddie holds him and listens. He hums occasionally to acknowledge what Steve is saying, but never interrupts him, for which Steve is glad because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to continue if he was stopped for any reason.
At the end of it, when Steve’s tears have dried, and they’re curled up in a pile of blankets on the couch, Eddie vows to teach him out to play in the snow. How to make a snow angel, a snowman, an igloo, a snowball — everything. He whispers these promises and plans into his ear, their hands intertwined where they lay on Steve’s lap.
And he follows through. With everything.
And the next time the kids beg him to play, he plays his part and says no, because he’s still anxious he’s going to do it wrong, Eddie throws a snowball at his back while he’s busy arguing with Dustin. And silence falls over everyone, waiting for Steve’s next move. Because he’s never given in, and no one’s ever pushed their luck like that.
Steve turns towards Eddie, narrowing his eyes at him.
“Oh, it’s on, Munson.”
The kids cheer and then it’s chaos of snowballs being lobbed at one another.
Later, when everyone is warming up with hot cocoa, and Steve is curled into Eddie’s side with a blanket tossed over their laps, Steve knows he’s never been happier to have met Eddie, who taught him how to play in the snow.
“Thank you,” Steve whispers to Eddie, who hums curiously, lazily looking at him from the corner of his eye. “For teaching me how to play in the snow.”
“Always, Stevie. I’ll always help you.”
And it sounds like a promise.
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cldhead · 1 year
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she's matching with both of her brothers and i'm vicariously living through headcanons
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moonysloverboy · 9 months
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eddie definitely has a harder time admitting he’s into jocks than steve has admitting he’s into guys
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solarmorrigan · 5 months
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Eddie, at 3 AM: Would you still love me if I was a worm?
Steve, who really wants Eddie to shut up so he can sleep: I already love you
Eddie: Aw
Eddie:
Eddie: Wait
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steddielations · 6 months
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nsfw text, bdsm
Thinking about Steve having his dom awakening, feeling guilty about how much he liked holding Eddie down and edging him until he was begging, meanwhile Eddie is obsessively jerking off over the memory, unsure how to tell Steve all the unhinged shit he’s sooo okay with them doing, something like this
Steve: it’s really bad, Eddie, you were getting mouthy with me and i just wanted to spank you, I’m awful
Eddie, about to come in his pants: wow that’s uh could you uh demonstrate maybe
Just!! Sub Eddie with some experience, reassuring Steve he’s not a monster for liking what he likes. Aftercare being just as important for Steve as it is for Eddie, he has to make sure he only hurt Eddie in the ways he wanted, good ways.
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missjashin · 1 year
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Wayne finding Eddie and Steve sleeping together and he is taken aback but not because Eddie sleeping with a boy or not even because he is sleeping with Harrington. No, he is taken aback because the boy is sleeping soundly with Eddie. His Eddie. Who happens to be snoring like a jackhammer.
And yet there Steve is. His head resting on the juncture of Eddie’s neck and shoulder, basically having his ear right on the level of Eddie’s mouth, but face relaxed like nothing has ever bothered him in his life.
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rogersideup · 1 year
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Hi, I’m currently obsessed with the senses series, I don’t wanna add to the pressure but do you know when the next part will be up?
Hiiiiiiiii!!! I’m still writing as fast as I can!! I’m hoping to get it out this weekend 😭🤍
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Good People - Final Part
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
It is not often that Wayne is happy with the monotony of work. Tonight is one of those nights, if only because it allows him to think about where he went wrong speaking to Eddie. He had never meant to imply he thought Eddie was like Al; he'd meant the apple and tree comment to for Richard and Steve. However, he does acknowledge why Eddie drew the conclusion that Wayne might have thought Eddie would follow in Al's footsteps.
Wayne's being a hypocrite, applying the logic to one boy, but not the other. And even though he never, not once, thought that Eddie would become Al, he'll never be able to take that thought from Eddie's mind that he had. He can apologize until he's blue in the face, Eddie might even forgive him, but he's not sure Eddie will ever believe him. Not truly.
And how could Wayne expect him to?
No. That's a shame Wayne will take to the grave.
Next strike to Wayne's conscious; the misjudgment of Steve Harrington, and how it ties into the fact Eddie accused him of not trusting his judgement, and, moreover, Eddie being right. Wayne hadn't trusted in Eddie's trust of Steve.
He should have. It's been years since Eddie came home crying about a boy, but what father doesn't see their kid crying over their first heartbreak and doesn't grow protective? And with Eddie, it's even more terrifying. Getting mixed up with the wrong boy could mean bruised ribs, black eyes, or worse.
In a town like Hawkins, a boy would just have to claim Eddie made a sexual advance and his murder could (would) be justified.
Now add the manhunt and being suspected of murderer to that. Well, Wayne's scared for Eddie's life almost every minute of his day.
But it's no excuse. Or if it is, it's a poor one.
Wayne doesn't know the full story but he does know that Steve was with the group of people on Eddie's side; that he was there with the Henderson kid, the Buckley girl, and Nancy Wheeler, digging Eddie out of the rubble from the earthquake, getting him to the hospital as fast as they could.
Steve Harrington was part of the group that saved Eddie's life, and that should have meant more to begin with. Instead, Wayne's been waiting for a shoe to drop that very well isn't coming.
He's going to fix this.
He'll give Eddie his space to be angry with him, and he'll try again in a few days.
When Wayne gets home, around 6:30am, Eddie's van is gone. He's not surprised. He probably left shortly after Wayne did, not leaving sooner just to avoid him.
There is a note on Wayne's bed when he makes it there. Says he's at Steve, and instead of letting Wayne know when he'll return it just says the words 'be back' followed by a bunch of questions marks. He ends it with 'call if worried' and leaves a phone number that must be for the Harrington residence.
Another hurt Wayne can't blame on anyone but himself.
Wednesday passes. Wayne eats breakfast, goes grocery shopping, pretends to care about his shows before sleeping the afternoon away to prepare for another graveyard. Eddie has not returned when he wakes, and two short hours later, he's off to work.
Eddie's van remains gone.
Returns from work Thursday morning and repeats Wednesday. He replaces grocery shopping with laundry and cleaning out the leftovers for trash day tomorrow morning. Goes to work.
Friday morning he returns home. No Eddie. He waits for it to be a more appropriate time, a little before 10:00am to call the number Eddie left.
It rings, rings, rings, then, a voice he hasn't heard in years. Richard Harrington's voice sounds as cold as it always was as the answering machine recites, "You've reached the Harrington's. We are not available. Leave a message."
"This is Wayne Munson. I just wanted to make sure Eddie's- that's he's alright. Let him know that I called. Checked on him. He doesn't need to call back but I'd appreciate it."
He hangs up the phone, lump in his throat. He misses his boy, and he wants to make his right, but he can't force that. Eddie has to always want to make it okay between them.
He's usually off Fridays, but he asked to pick up a shift. He can't face Linda without having fixed this. He spends the morning and afternoon doing all the small fixes he'd been putting off. Anything to keep him busy. He goes to sleep at his usual time, and wakes up two hours before his shift like normal.
Check's his answering machine but if anyone called while he was asleep, they didn't leave a message. There's still no van when he heads to work.
The plant tells him to leave an hour early. He tries to argue to stay but he's just waved off, told to go get some sleep because he's been looking a little worse for the wear.
He gets back to Forest Hills around 5:40am and finds there is another car parked at his home. Not Eddie's van, but the sleek maroon BMW that belongs to Steve Harrington parked where the van usually is.
When he pulls into his spot, the headlights of his truck light up Steve, sitting on his steps, wrapped in a coat. It can't be more than 50℉ outside right now.
Steve stands as Wayne cuts the engine and climbs from his truck. He gets to the front of his truck and Steve speaks.
"Eddie's okay," Steve says, hands shoving deep into his pockets, "I tried to get him to call you back yesterday but, well, you know Eddie."
Wayne nods, because he does know Eddie. "I appreciate you tellin' me. But you coulda just called."
"I could have."
They look at each other for a moment, and just as Steve opens his mouth, probably to tell Wayne he's going to go, Wayne speaks first, "you wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee to warm up?"
Steve tilts his head slightly to the left before he says, "are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Alright," and then Steve steps away from the stairs so Wayne can climb them and let them into the trailer. Steve follows behind silently but with familiarity. He's spent so much of his time here since spring break- the shame crawls through Wayne again. He'd assumed, once upon a time, that Eddie and Steve spent more time here than at Steve's because why would Steve want the trailer park boy in his big fancy house? Now, though, he wonders if it's because this place felt more like a home, even with Wayne's cold shoulder.
Steve sits at their little kitchen table, a luxury they didn't have before because there was no room in the single wide, one bedroom they'd had before. The new double wide (with three bedrooms) offered them a bit more space for a dining area.
Wayne's still suspicious of the government's offer to replace their destroyed home, but he wasn't foolish enough to deny the offer when it was made to him by Jim Hopper (newly returned from the dead back then).
"How do you take your coffee?" Wayne asks, once the machine finishes filling the carafe.
"Oh, I can fix it-"
"Nonsense," Wayne waves him back to sitting, "just tell me."
"I like it with just enough milk to take the scalding heat out of it," Steve says, and while Wayne's not sure just how much that it, he tries anyway.
He sets a cup in front of Steve before taking a seat across from him. "I really do appreciate that you came to tell me Eddie's okay. I want to give him his space but...."
Steve sips his coffee before shooting his cup a small smile. Wayne must have got the ratio right. Then, he looks to Wayne and the smile drops, a more serious expression taking its place and he says, "Eddie wouldn't really tell me what your fight was about, other than, uh, me and that you... overheard some of what I said last time I was here. I don't, like, want to come between you and Eddie, but I'm not, I'm not going to let you scare me away. So, just tell me what I have to do to get Eddie to believe we're cool, and I'll do it. Anything, except for getting out of Eddie's life. 'Cause I won't."
"I would never ask you to do that," Wayne says. Steve squints at him, a look of suspicion now. Completely warranted, given what Steve has known of Wayne thus far. "I owe you an apology, Steve. For how I've been treatin' you."
Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh. What? Why?"
"You've been nothin' but good to Eddie. For Eddie. And I refused to see that. I made a judgment about you without knowin' anything but your name." Steve let's out a soft 'oh' at that, but Wayne plows on, "And that weren't fair, and it weren't right. I can't undo it, but I want you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."
"Okay," Steve says, after a moment. "I forgive you."
It's Wayne's turn to be surprised. He's a bit speechless. So much so, he takes a page right out of Eddie's book and asks, "are you sure?" which is a question he's never asked after having an apology accepted before, but one Eddie had asked a lot when he first came to live with Wayne, and they were learning to co-exist.
"Yeah. I get it."
He doesn't like that answer. Doesn't like the he contributed to the mind set that gave Steve that answer. "You're allowed to be mad at me for it."
"I think Eddie's mad enough for both of us."
It doesn't feel like closure. It doesn't feel like forgiveness, but Wayne doesn't know what to say. He can't just start sprouting all the bad things he thought about Steve; there's no reason Steve should have to listen to that. But without hearing it, Steve doesn't even know what he's forgiving Wayne for. "I'll be honest with ya, Steve. It feels like you shouldn't."
Steve frowns at him. "Why?"
Why? Why? For all the reasons Eddie yelled at him, and all the things Linda said, and all the agony he's felt these last few days. The guilt and the shame that still eat at him, even as Steve Harrington says he forgives him. "It's too easy."
Those three words have Steve leaning back against the chair. His eyes dance around Wayne's face before taking in the whole of him. Or, what Steve can see of him with from across the table. When Steve meets his eye again, Wayne sees recognition there. "If you can't forgive yourself, I get that. I do. I-I've spent most of my life as one big apology. And I'm not saying that I, like, don't still feel like- what I mean to say, is that, I forgive you. I'm not, like, gonna hold it against you that you were just trying to look out for Eddie, man. Like, two years ago your fears would have been justified, so."
"Don't make it right," Wayne argues, but he doesn't know why.
"No," Steve agrees, "but I'm forgiving you anyway. You think you're the first person to hear the name Steve Harrington and assume you know everything you need to know about me already?"
Steve's words sound like they could be confrontational, but his tone is light. Teasing? Wayne says, "no. Suppose I'm not."
"Every person I love has done that," Steve says, and the ease of which he says that has Wayne feeling some sort of way. Eddie's words echo in his mind 'you made me help him feel that way'. How many other people have made him feel like he's a bad person? "Even- even Eddie. He made a point, during spring break, to, uh, well, he didn't apologize for anything because there was nothing to apologize about, but he made a point to tell me I was very 'metal' and a 'cool dude' so.... I know my name comes with, like, a shadow or a curse or whatever. I think it will for as long as I live in Hawkins, but that's," Steve flaps his hand in the air, as if that fills in for the word he can't find, and it's a move so reminiscent of Eddie. "Anyway, if you aren't actually, like, ready to accept an apology, you shouldn't be making one."
Wayne sits in that for a moment. There's a lot more to Steve Harrington than he'd ever thought. So much he doesn't know, actually, but he thinks he's okay with learning more. This boy told Eddie he was half-way in love with him earlier this week, and while Wayne never heard Eddie say it back, he knew anyway. It's why he was so protective. "You're pretty wise for your age."
Steve grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that last part was all Robin. She says it all the time to me."
"Well, then you best stop apologizing when you ain't ready to accept the forgiveness," Wayne parrots back the words.
Steve throws his head back and laughs.
They finish their coffee with silence and small talk. Steve tells him about how he never thought he'd miss his job at the video store but working at Melvald's is making him long for the days when the biggest complaint was late fees. Apparently, there's so many more things to complain about in retail.
Wayne talks about working at the plant and how the tasks are repetitive and a bit labor intensive, but the graveyard pay is worth it. Steve asks him a few more questions about working at the plant that Wayne's happy to answer and the more Steve asks, the more Wayne becomes aware that Steve might be looking for a change of occupation. He makes a mental note to put in a good word to Floyd, just in case.
Steve leaves with the promise of returning with Eddie, as soon as possible. As he was heading to the door, Wayne asked why he showed up so early.
"Eddie can't stop me if he's not awake," was Steve's answer, a mischievous grin on his face.
Wayne watches from the porch as Steve backs out. Steve shoots him one last little wave with his fingers before heading away.
He goes back inside and washes the dishes. Even dries and puts them away, a feat usually done once a week; he and Eddie have no qualms with using dishes directly from the dish drainer. His only other chore for the day is leaving for work a bit early so he has time to stop at the gas station and fill up the truck.
Grabbing the remote from its spot on the coffee table, Wayne plops onto the couch to spend his day as mindlessly as possible with some TV.
He goes to sleep at his usual time and wakes up at 7:43pm according to his alarm clock; a little over two hours before his shift is to start. It's time for more coffee, he thinks as he dresses for work before heading to the kitchen.
He jerks to a stop when he sees Eddie and Steve sitting on the couch, leaned close and talking softly. He's not about to repeat a past mistake, so he makes his presence known. "Evenin' boys."
Eddie pops up from the couch quick as lightning, taking a few steps towards Wayne before stopping. "I don't like being mad at you."
Wayne nods, "I don't much like you bein' mad at me, either. For what it's worth, I am sorry."
Eddie closes the distance between them, then, and pulls Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne returns it instantly, how can he not? He hears Eddie say, softly, "it's worth an awful lot, you terrible old man."
They part, and Eddie speaks first, "but if you ever pull shit like this again, I won't be so quick to forgive."
"I won't," Wayne says, at the same time Steve says, "he won't."
Both Munsons look at Steve, who grins back at them.
"You think you know my uncle that well already, from one shared cup of coffee?" Eddie asks, sounding amused.
Steve shrugs, "no. I just, uh, plan to stick around, y'know. Kinda hoping there's no dude after me for him to be an angry dad about. I would appreciate it, though, Mr. Munson, if you'd skip the shovel talk bit of all this?"
Eddie sucks in a breath and Wayne's a bit shocked by what Steve's implied. What Steve's admitted, really, out loud in front of another person. Wayne wonders if any boy Eddie's ever liked before would have done that.
"What good's a shove talk when you've already told me you ain't goin' anywhere?" Wayne says, hoping his tone is as light and teasing as he wants it to be.
"Glad we're on the same page," Steve agrees, "but, uhh, do you want me to go? So you can have a real talk?"
"No," says Eddie.
"No," says Wayne, at the same time.
"Oh. Okay. Uh, in that case, you got anything to drink here besides coffee?"
Wayne nods and they all pile into the kitchen to get a beverage before settling in the living room. There will be time to talk later, Wayne realizes. He's going to apologize properly.
Later, though, when he'll really be ready to accept Eddie's forgiveness, because there's no doubt Eddie'll forgive him. So, he's going to sit in the living room and chat with his boys until he has to go to work.
By the time Friday comes around again, he'll be able to tell Linda she was right, everything's going to be okay one day, and maybe ask her on a date he's been putting off asking for since high school.
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Done!! I hope the ending is sufficiently cheesy.
I'm so sorry if I missed you! There were a lot of people asking to be tagged haha
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caitiespersonalhell · 2 years
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Boyfriend who is a boyfriend:
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Boyfriend who is a girlfriend:
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Girlfriend who is a girlfriend:
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Girlfriend who is a boyfriend:
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unfinishedslurs · 1 year
Text
gay bar (steddie)
“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”
Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar. 
“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.
The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“
As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”
It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!
Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.
Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”
“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”
“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”
Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”
He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos. 
Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”
What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”
“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?
Eh. Doesn’t matter. 
“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”
He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”
“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”
“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”
“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”
He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”
“Which one?”
“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”
“How do you even know about that?”
Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”
“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”
He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt. 
Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then. 
Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole. 
“That can’t be right.”
“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out. 
“You were Prom King.”
“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh. 
Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”
Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”
Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?
Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks. 
“What?”
“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.” 
Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve. 
No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time. 
He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country. 
He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here. 
“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”
What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”
Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”
Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”
“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn. 
Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears. 
“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”
He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken. 
He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening. 
“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”
“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”
“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone. 
Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”
“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”
Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”
“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”
“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”
“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”
Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 
“What?”
“You’re drunk.”
“Well, yeah. Duh.”
“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”
Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”
“Oh, so you’d call him because…”
“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”
“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”
“…Steve?”
“Yeah!”
“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”
“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”
“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him. 
“Are you drunk?”
“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone. 
“I just talked to you yesterday.”
Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”
“We miss you too, Steve.”
“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”
“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”
“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”
“Munson?”
“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”
“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”
“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs. 
“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”
“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”
“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone. 
“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“
“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt. 
“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”
“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”
“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters. 
“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”
“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”
“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”
“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”
“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car? 
“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho.  And that was before the melted flesh monster.”
Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”
Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”
“Didn’t he die?”
“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”
“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”
Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”
“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”
Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute. 
“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is. 
“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“
“That was him?”
“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”
“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”
“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”
“Don’t kill me,” Steve says. 
“Oh, god, did you punch him?”
“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”
He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums. 
“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”
“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”
“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”
“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”
He raises an eyebrow. “No?”
“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish. 
“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”
“Dude.”
Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham. 
“Well, Harrington?”
“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”
Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.
He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.
He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.
“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else. 
“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.
“Ugh. Who would want that?”
Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“
“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”
Eddie turns beet red in record time. 
“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”
“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”
“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”
Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again. 
Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles. 
“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”
Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”
“The what?”
Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”
“…oops.”
“When?” Eddie demands. 
Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”
Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut. 
Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”
Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest. 
Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”
Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”
“Steve!”
“You do!”
“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”
His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses. 
“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”
“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”
“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”
“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”
“I do?”
“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees. 
Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink. 
“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”
“You could leave.”
She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.
“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”
“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before. 
Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt. 
He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips. 
Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful. 
From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message. 
The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out. 
The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.
Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.
The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall. 
Robin has been similarly affected.
“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”
“We’re not that bad,” he says absently. 
“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”
“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”
She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it. 
Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them. 
“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”
Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock. 
“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex. 
Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner. 
“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity. 
“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”
Eddie shakes his head dumbly. 
“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!” 
With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. 
“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”
“I dunno, I think it might be working.”
“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument. 
“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”
“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve. 
Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“
“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”
Steve stares. 
“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”
“I mean, not really.”
“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”
“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”
Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder. 
“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”
“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”
“Thought I was fucking you.”
“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”
“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”
“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”
“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.
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morganbritton132 · 7 months
Text
Eddie is walking around what he thinks is an empty house while he live-streams. He walks passed the living room, pauses, and then turns around.
Steve is in the living room. He is in the living room with Max. Eddie dropped Steve off at Max’s house over an hour ago so, “How did you get here?”
Steve: Max drove me
Eddie:
Eddie:
Eddie:
Eddie: Max doesn’t have a license
Max, not looking away from the tv: It’s never stopped me before
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