#Steve Stronghold | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aidaronan · 1 year

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"First movie you ever saw in theaters?" Steve lounged opposite of Robin on the couch in his living room, the stereo on low, spitting out Madonna on the local radio station.

"Oh, that's easy." Robin bit off part of a licorice. "Freaky Friday. I remember because I was terrified for weeks that I'd end up switching places with my mom and have to, like, balance a checkbook or something."

Steve laughed, separating m&ms in his hand. "You still don't know how to balance a checkbook, do you?"

"Like you do." Robin playfully glared at him. "Okay, here's a good one. First kiss."

Steve ate the sole blue m&m first, a grin spreading across his face because he usually lied about his first kiss, but he didn't have to. Not with Robin. "Camp Stronghold when I was nine. We met up in the boathouse after lights out to trade contraband."

"Contraband, huh?" Robin raised her brows.

"Candy. I swear my parents loaded me up like I was going to prison. 'This is as good as cash in there, Steven.' I think my dad wanted me to network or something. Because, you know, I was totally gonna start a small business with a group of eight-year-olds."

Robin snickered. "And the kiss?"

"Ah. I didn't actually want candy. I just wanted this kid to like me so bad, and I didn't know why until we were there in the dark tripping into each other because we couldn't see. I had all these butterflies, and we were standing close enough that I could feel the heat off his sunburn in the air." Steve could still picture it. The way he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face. "Then he kissed me, just this quick peck on the lips before he turned tail and ran. I left the boathouse with a Snickers and one massive first crush."

"Did anything else happen?" Robin asked.

"No. It was the last week of camp and I think he freaked himself out over it. I don't know. He didn't even really say bye to me after we climbed off the bus to meet our parents. Never saw him again. I honestly never even thought to get his name."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. I just hope he's doing okay, you know? That he's got people in his life that make him feel like he's allowed."

Robin looked at him softly, reaching out to give his ankle a squeeze. "Hey, you never know. You might run into him again someday. Maybe he's your soulmate or something."

"Please. I think you're pretty obviously my soulmate." Steve nudged Robin with his foot. "But I guess he could settle for 2nd place."

"Oh, there's a toast for sure." Snacks tumbling off her lap, Robin reached for her can of Coke on the coffee table and raised it as high as she could reach. "To both of us finding our 2nd places."

"Cheers to that." Steve thrust his own Coke into the air.

____

It felt like a big cosmic joke that Steve would be in a boathouse when he realized who Eddie Munson had been all that time. Eddie had looked so different when he'd transferred into Hawkins that Steve had never even given him a second look, not during their shared classes, not during any of those cafeteria tirades. Not during the numerous occasions where he gave the kids rides to D&D.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"

It was the eyes that finally pulled back the curtain and cut away all those in-between years. Steve had never been close enough to clock them, but he couldn't deny them now. Not at such close range, Eddie holding a broken bottle against his neck, trembling with so much fear that Steve worried he might actually use it.

Dropping the oar from his own shaking hands, Steve said the only thing he could think to say.

"Well, this brings back memories."

Eddie didn't respond, the fear in the air drawing out every second, making it feel infinite. Behind them and in another universe, Dustin said a bunch of stuff Steve barely heard for the pounding in his ears. He watched beads of sweat roll down Eddie's forehead and waited for something to give.

Like clouds fat with rain, Eddie finally broke open, tension draining out of him, arm and weapon dropping to his side. He exhaled a shaky breath, maintaining eye contact, his expression too complicated for Steve to fully read.

Steve was about to say something else when Eddie finally spoke, cocking his head to the side and leveling Steve with a look.

"And here I spent all these years thinking you forgot."

#steddie #ficlet #mine #long post #first kisses

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midastouch013 · 17 days

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The Assassin and The Sunshine

Summary: You and Yelena were the most least-likely pair, or atleast that's what the avengers (Minus Natasha and Wanda) thought. So what happens when they see how the blonde acts when you get hurt

Warnings: Gunshots, medical stuff (minorly). Angry Yelena

----

Yelena Belova, with her steely gaze and lethal precision, was the epitome of intimidation among her peers. Her reputation as a formidable assassin preceded her, casting a shadow of fear wherever she went. With every calculated move and icy demeanor, she commanded respect and evoked a sense of unease among those around her. She was a force to be reckoned with, leaving a trail of apprehension in her wake.

And then there was you, Y/n Y/L/n. With a personality as bright as the sun and a heart as pure as gold, Y/n brought warmth and positivity to every situation. Her infectious laughter and unwavering kindness had a way of melting even the coldest of hearts, earning them the affectionate nickname of "the team's golden retriever."

Your gentle nature stood in stark contrast to Yelena's, and yet, somehow, the two of you had found a connection that defied explanation.

It wasn't easy, navigating a relationship with someone as closed-off as Yelena. She was slow to trust, and her walls were fortified with layers of steel. But you were patient, willing to chip away at those barriers bit by bit until you reached the heart of who she truly was.

The rest of the team couldn't understand it. They saw Yelena as an enigma, a formidable presence to be feared and respected. They couldn't fathom what you saw in her, why you would choose to be with someone so different from yourself.

"It's just... I don't get it," Tony remarked, glancing over at Yelena and you conversing in the corner of the room. "What's the deal with those two? Yelena's like a walking arsenal, and Y/n's... well, Y/n."

Steve nodded in agreement, his gaze following yours and Yelena's interaction. "I know what you mean, Tony. It's hard to imagine what they see in each other. They're like night and day."

Clint, who had been listening in on the conversation, chimed in with her own thoughts.

"Exactly! I still can't wrap my head around it," Clint admitted, scratching his head in confusion. "Yelena and Y/n... they're just so different from each other."

Bruce chuckled softly, glancing towards where you and Yelena were sitting. "Love is a strange thing, Clint. It's not always logical. Maybe Y/n sees something in Yelena that we don't."

Clint sighed, shaking his head. "I guess you're right. I just hope they know what they're doing."

It was a cold autumn day, and you found yourself on another mission alongside Natasha Tony, Steve, and Clint. The tension hung heavy in the air as the team moved with practiced precision through the dimly lit corridors of the enemy's stronghold.

The mission had been intense from the start, nearly dodging attacks at almost all turns, but as you ventured deeper into the heart of the HYDRA base, the atmosphere grew even more charged. Every step felt like a potential trap, every shadow a potential threat.

Suddenly, chaos erupted. Gunfire erupted from unseen assailants, and you found yourself instinctively stepping in front of Clint, shielding him from the onslaught. The impact was immediate, a searing pain lancing through your side as the bullets found their mark.

"Y/n!" Natasha's voice was a mix of alarm and concern as she rushed to your side, her expression tight with worry.

Clint knelt beside you, his hands hovering uncertainly over your injured form. "Y/n, are you okay?"

You managed a weak nod, gritting your teeth against the pain as Natasha and Tony quickly moved to assess your injuries.

"We need to get her out of here," Natasha declared, her voice firm as she glanced around the chaotic scene.

Steve's voice crackled over the comms. "Quinjet's on its way. Hold tight, we'll get you out of there."

As you were carefully lifted onto a stretcher, the team worked quickly to stabilize you. Despite the pain, you managed a weak smile, reassured by their presence.

"We've got you, Y/n," Tony said, his tone determined as he helped load you onto the Quinjet.

Clint squeezed your hand gently, his expression filled with worry. "Hang in there, okay? We'll get you patched up in no time."

You nodded weakly, feeling a surge of gratitude for your friends. As the Quinjet engines roared to life and the aircraft lifted off, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you, knowing that even in the midst of danger, you had your closest friends by your side.

----

As the Quinjet touched down back at the base, the team wasted no time in transferring you to the medbay. Before Yelena could arrive, the medical team swiftly brought you into the operating room, shielding you from her sight.

Moments later, the door burst open again, and Yelena stormed in, her expression a mask of fury. Kate Bishop, who happened to be sparring with her when FRIDAY had informed Yelena of the news, was right beside her, offering silent support.

"Where is she?" Yelena demanded, her voice a dangerous growl, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

Natasha stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "Yelena, they've taken her into surgery. They're doing everything they can for her."

The blonde's tension only seemed to escalate at Natasha's words. "They better be taking care of her!" she barked, her tone sharp and threatening.

Tony and Steve exchanged uneasy glances as Yelena's fury filled the room. They shuffled awkwardly, intimidated by the practically burning blonde.

Yelena turned her rage on them, her eyes blazing with fury. "This is all your fault!" she accused, her voice cutting like a knife. "If anything happens to her, I'll make sure you all pay!"

Steve, ever the voice of reason, tried to reason with Yelena. "Yelena, we understand your concern, but right now our priority is getting her the help she needs."

Yelena's eyes flashed with fury. "Your priority should have been keeping her safe in the first place!" she shot back, her voice sharp with accusation, her Russian accent adding an extra edge to her words.

Tony, normally quick-witted, found himself at a loss for words in the face of Yelena's anger. "We did everything we could," he insisted, his tone defensive.

Clint, usually unflappable, shifted uncomfortably under Yelena's intense gaze. "Yelena, we're all worried about her. But yelling at us isn't going to help," he reasoned, trying to diffuse the tension.

But Yelena's rage was unyielding. "You think I care about your excuses?" she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "All that matters to me is her. And if anything happens to her because of you…"

Natasha exchanged a knowing glance with Kate, silently acknowledging that it was time to intervene and calm Yelena down before her fury escalated further.

"Yelena," Natasha spoke softly but firmly, stepping closer to her friend, "I know you're scared. But yelling at them won't help Y/n."

Kate nodded in agreement, placing a gentle hand on Yelena's arm. "We're all worried about her," she added, her voice calm and reassuring. "But right now, we need to trust that Dr. Cho and Bruce knows what they're doing."

Yelena's anger seemed to waver for a moment as she looked between Natasha and Kate, her resolve beginning to soften.

Natasha continued, her voice gentle yet persuasive. "Y/n needs us to be strong for her right now. She needs you to be strong."

Kate nodded in agreement. "We're all in this together, Lena. We'll get through this, but we need to stay calm and focused."

Yelena's shoulders tensed, but gradually, the fire in her eyes began to dim as she took a deep breath, her anger giving way to concern for you. "I just want her to be okay," she admitted, her voice softer now, tinged with worry.

Natasha squeezed Yelena's hand reassuringly. "We all do," she said, her voice filled with empathy. "And Helen and Bruce will do everything we can to make sure she is."

As the tension in the room began to ease, Yelena nodded in silent agreement, her gaze lingering on the closed doors of the operating room where you lay.

Natasha gestured towards a nearby chair, silently inviting Yelena to sit beside her. Yelena hesitated for a moment before finally sinking into the seat, her body trembling with emotion.

Natasha wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders, offering a comforting embrace. "It's going to be okay, Lena," she murmured, her voice soft and soothing.

Yelena leaned into Natasha's embrace, her walls crumbling as tears streamed down her cheeks. She buried her face against Natasha's shoulder, her sobs muffled against the fabric of her sister's uniform.

The other Avengers watched the scene unfold with a mixture of surprise and understanding, their eyes widening as they witnessed a side of Yelena they had never seen before.

Tony exchanged a glance with Steve, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered under his breath, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"She's stable"

---

The steady beeping of the monitors filled the room as you blinked away the fog of anesthesia, your senses gradually coming back to you.

As your eyes fluttered open, you were met with the sight of Yelena sitting beside you, her expression soft and full of concern. "Hey," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to her.

Yelena's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you awake, but she quickly composed herself, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she took your hand in hers. "Hey," she replied, her voice gentle and full of warmth.

Relief flooded through you as you squeezed her hand, grateful for her presence by your side. But, as you squeezed Yelena's hand, a wave of concern washed over you when you noticed the tears welling up in her eyes. "Lena, what's wrong?" you asked, your voice filled with worry as you reached out to gently cup her face with your hand.

Yelena's lower lip trembled slightly as she tried to compose herself, but the floodgates had opened, and tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "I was so scared," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought I might lose you."

You pulled her into a gentle embrace, holding her close as she cried softly against your chest, which hadn't be affected much, and was already fixing up thanks to Bruce's cell regenerator.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm right here," you whispered softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Yelena leaned into your embrace, her tears gradually subsiding as she took comfort in your presence. "I was so scared," she admitted again, her voice trembling slightly.

You brushed a strand of hair away from her face, offering her a small smile. "I know, Lena. But I'm okay now. You're the one who's always saving me, even when you're not anywhere near me," you said sincerely, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

Yelena's lips twitched slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. "Yeah, well, don't expect me to always save you," she teased lightly, a small chuckle escaping her lips, as she resorted to her usual coping method of humour.

You grinned, feeling a surge of affection for the woman in your arms. "Oh, come on, Lena. You love playing the hero," you teased right back, trying to lighten the mood.

A genuine smile spread across Yelena's face for the first time since you'd woken up. "I kinda do" she chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly, before the both of you started laughing.

But as the laughter faded, a heaviness settled in the air once again. Yelena's eyes clouded with sadness, the weight of the situation crashing down on her once more.

You reached out, cupping her face in your hands. "Hey, Lena. It's okay to be scared," you said softly, your voice filled with empathy. "But we're together now. And we'll get through this, I promise."

As the Avengers stood at the door, watching the unexpected tenderness between you and Yelena, they exchanged surprised glances.

Tony raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with disbelief. " The White widow is a softie after all, what would you know?"

Steve nodded in agreement, a small smile playing on his lips. "Seems like we all jumped to conclusions too quickly."

Bucky, who had been silently observing, chimed in. " I guess, they are perfect for each other hm"

Clint chuckled, shaking his head in amazement. "Never thought I'd see the day when Yelena Belova was making someone laugh."

As they listened to the laughter emanating from the room, as you and Yelena continue to make each other laugh, the Avengers couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for the unexpected bond between you and Yelena. It was a reminder that sometimes, people were more than their tough exteriors.

#avengers #anon ask #anonymous #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x reader #natasha and yelena #yelena belova #yelena and natasha #yelena my beloved #requests open #request #reqs open

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metalhoops · 10 months

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Read Part 1 Here

As small and unassuming as Eddie’s trailer was to others, it had always been his fortress. It was the last stronghold against the forces of evil, and the bastion of all things metal and macabre. It wasn’t much, but it was undoubtedly his. When you grew up with little, you clung to what you had.

He’d come to Wayne’s at an age when the world had begun to haemorrhage magic, leaving a realm devoid of colour in its place. His uncle worked hard to stoke the flames of his creativity, buying or borrowing what he could to keep Eddie’s dreams of castles and kingdoms alive.

He’d spent a small lifetime buried in tomes of fantasy and mythology. He’d whiled away afternoons flicking through books that let him choose the story, always managing to die before finding the right ending. As a child whose mother died young, it was nice to live in a world where death could be undone.

Eddie managed to cling on to that last spark of childlike wonder into his early twenties. His childhood had been a landscape inhospitable for the companionships of knights and the trickery of wizards, yet he’d made it work. That kind of alchemy didn’t fade easily.

Yet, with Chrissy’s death tainting his memories of the trailer, he understood his fortress, his kingdom, was nothing but rubble and blighted soil. He was Frodo, returning to The Shire after the destruction of the ring. Eddie’s Undying Lands came in the form of a small bungalow on the edge of town, paid for with government hush money.

The place wasn’t much larger than the trailer, yet it felt vast in the late hours of the night when Wayne was working and Eddie was alone. They’d only been in the house a week. He still felt as though he were in hostile territory. He sat on his bedroom floor with the curtains half-drawn.

He’d spent the past half hour drawing them open before pulling them shut. If they were shut, the place looked deserted. People would be less likely to try to peer in, but he wouldn’t be able to see if someone or something was coming. If he left the curtains open, people would be able to see in. Eddie told himself he was being paranoid until he watched a pair of headlights flicker in the distance down the isolated road.

Eddie was quick to action, darting into the entrance as a knock sounded on the front door. He grabbed a box cutter from the pile of unpacked boxes and peeked through the keyhole. You could never be too cautious, not when half the town thought you were a murderer.

Standing in the doorway was Steve Harrington, the former king of their ever-changing kingdom, looking lost and worse for wear. His hair, a Harrington point of pride, as good to Steve as a crown to a king, was a sodden bird's nest perched atop his head. Though that wasn’t all. One of his arms hung naked at his side. Steve hadn’t managed to pull it through his polo, leaving half his skin exposed, the other half covered in poorly wrapped bandages.

They’d both been hurt by the hoard of bats, but Steve's injuries eclipsed Eddie’s. Something about that fact sat wrong with him. It was as though he’d stumbled upon a wrong ending. He wanted to turn back and find a story where Steve was safe. Eddie dropped his makeshift weapon and swung open the door.

“Steve? Christ man, you’ve seen better days,” Eddie spoke, ushering Steve inside, locking the door behind him.

“I’ve had worse.”

Steve, like Eddie, appeared changed from what’d happened to them. He hadn’t known how to explain it. Most of what he knew about Steve Harrington was mythology, a collection of stories which changed depending on the teller. Yet, all those close to him, far closer to him than Eddie, had agreed something about him had changed. This Steve was a broken bone set wrong. Something about him always appeared to ache.

Buckley had hauled up in the Harrington manor with him after they were released from hospital, helping tend to his wounds and wash his perfect hair. She’d confided in Eddie when he had come to check up on Steve that he was forgetting things.

Perhaps forgetting wasn’t the right word. Robin spoke five languages, yet she couldn’t find the term to describe what was going on with Steve. He seemed out of place, like a sour note in a once sweet melody.

Maybe it was one concussion too many, Robin had justified, which was a collection of stories shrouded in contention. How many concussions had Steve had? Nancy swore Jonathan hadn’t hurt Steve badly during their fight. He’d been able to run away, after all. Jonathan admitted he probably had.

The kids all agreed Steve was knocked out cold after his fight with Billy while Robin recounted what’d happened in Starcourt. She’d later confess Steve had other concussions before Jonathan, though wouldn’t elaborate on their origin. Some stories only hurt the teller. Eddie had learnt how to read negative space. Occam’s razor told them it was the easiest explanation, but to Robin and Eddie, it didn’t feel like the right one.

Steve talked about things that’d happened weeks ago as if they’d occurred to someone in another life. Then there was the way he looked and spoke to Eddie. Every time he’d show up at the Harrington’s front stoop, Steve would look at him as though he’d risen from the dead, shook off the grave dirt and stumbled back into his life.

He had the feeling Steve was always seconds away from telling him something important, but he too, didn’t seem to have the language to convey it. When they stood together in silence, as they did that night in Eddie’s new fortress, he felt as though he almost understood.

“What brings you to my humble abode, Harrington?” Eddie asked, trying to keep his eyes from Steve’s exposed side.

“Mostly pride,” Steve admitted with a humourless laugh, ushering to his side, inviting Eddie to look. He did.

“I told Rob to go home for the night and uh...” Steve cringed as he tried to lift his hand up to pull it through his sleeve. Eddie stepped closer without meaning to.

“Shit, hold still. Don’t rip your stitches again or Buckley’ll hand my ass to me on a silver platter,” Eddie grumbled. His hand twitched, wanting to touch. Steve took a step forward, inviting him to. Eddie hesitantly brushed his fingers over the gauze, examining the bandages.

“When did you last change these?”

“Two days ago,” Steve admitted, leaning against the wall, trying to keep his balance. Eddie cursed under his breath, grabbed Steve by the wrist, and guided him to the bathroom.

“You don’t have to change ‘em. They’re pretty gross,” Steve protested.

“Which is exactly why I have to change them,” Eddie argued as he help Steve slide onto the bathroom countertop beside the sink.

“I’ll get Robin to do it tomorrow. She didn’t throw up after dissecting a frog in junior bio.” Eddie groaned and scrubbed his face with his hand.

“Didn’t know that was public knowledge, great.”

“Not many people knew. I just... we were in biology together.” Eddie knew they weren’t.

He knew every class he’d had with Steve Harrington, much to his chagrin. They’d had gym, history, and Spanish together. Like shiny plastic to a crow or jewels to a dragon, Steve always managed to capture Eddie’s attention. He’d like to blame it on the fact he found Steve attractive, but there were a handful of other hot jocks who made Eddie want to shove his hand in a blender. Steve had always been different to him, though he’d managed to keep his affections close to his chest. It’d never do him any good.

Steve had a habit of rewriting their mythology. Eddie had noticed him doing it often as a way of explaining away little things he’d have no right knowing, by fabricating new pasts. That was a piece of Steve’s new persona, which was reserved only for Eddie.

He wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. He liked Steve. Hell, the more the two got to know one another, the more Eddie thought he could love Steve, but their relationship felt like an empty hallway in a horror film. It was devoid of any real threat, but it felt as though something was lurking just out of view.

Eddie blamed his feelings of love for the strange gravity between them. Occam’s razor. He wanted to kiss Steve. He didn’t know what Steve wanted. That caused tension.

“Why did you come here? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Stevie. The door’s always open,” Eddie said as he peeled back the bandage.

He felt Steve stiffen and moved one hand to rest on the boy’s thigh. Steve’s hand covered his, lacing their fingers together and surprising Eddie. He tried not to look too closely at the wound. He found their first-aid kit and got to work, squeezing Steve’s thigh each time he pulled the bandaged taught.

“I miss you,” Steve said, once more sounding seconds from another confession Eddie knew wouldn’t come.

“I haven’t gone anywhere, dude. I saw you yesterday.”

Steve muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like,

‘I used to see you every day.’

Another past that’d never happened. A reinvention. To make matters worse, Eddie wanted to believe in that past. He wanted Steve to tell him their story, the one that lived only inside his head. Eddie would follow it. He’d do anything to stop the boy from looking so lost.

“Can I do something weird?” Steve asked, and all Eddie could do was nod.

Steve hooked his arm around Eddie’s neck, pulled the boy into the space between his dangling legs, and buried his face in Eddie’s hair. Steve’s hands balled into tight fists in Eddie’s shirt fabric, holding him so close he felt his bones creak like wooden floorboards underfoot.

“You don’t have to miss me, sweetheart. I’m right here,” Eddie assured, feeling the need to do something, say something to make everything better. Steve’s grip tightened.

“Do you ever feel like we’ve been here before?” Steve spoke, his voice muffled by Eddie’s skin.

He knew the answer Steve wanted. He couldn’t in good conscience give it to him.

“No,” Eddie confessed.

“But I wish we had.”

Steve pulled back so the two could get a better look at one another. Unable to help himself, Eddie leaned forward, trying to smooth down his hair.

“When you were seven, you scraped your knee so badly you walked with a limp for half a year and ever since you’ve hated the sight of blood,” Steve spoke, not daring to look at Eddie.

He felt his whole body go stiff. His hand in Steve’s hair froze. He was right, but Eddie couldn’t understand how he knew. He’d moved to Hawkins when he was twelve. His life before that was a mystery to the town.

“How?” Eddie began, but Steve wasn’t finished.

“You do that thing when you’re nervous. Yes, that thing you’re doing with your hair,” Steve observed. Eddie had taken a string of hair between his thumb and forefinger and half hidden behind it.

“And when you’re flirting,” Steve amended. Eddie’s brows drew together.

“Which you do with me, a lot. Took me forever to work out that’s what you were doing but give me enough time and a good enough thump to the head and I’ll realise it, eventually.”

Steve knew Eddie liked him. Shit.

“Took me even longer to realise I liked you too, but everything’s kind of screwed now, isn’t it?” Steve asked, his humourless, dry laugh coming back.

“Because every time I’m with you, I miss you. And I know that makes no goddamn sense, but I do.”

Eddie tried to unpick what Steve’s words meant, but he kept coming up short. Steve liked him. That much Eddie gathered. It was enough to send his stomach plummeting into his boots.

“Tell me what you’ve gotta tell me, Steve. I’m a big boy. I can handle it. Get some of that damn weight off your shoulders,” Eddie mumbled, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder and rubbing circles into the spot as though to prove a point. Instead, Steve looked at him with a crooked grin and uttered,

“Like Atlas, right?” He hadn’t picked Steve as a mythology geek. Eddie felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as though he were seconds away from putting it all together.

“We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we?”

“Not exactly, but almost.”

“Then why the hell don’t I remember it?” Eddie questioned, his voice growing strained.

“I don’t know. You never do. It doesn’t matter, it’s over.”

“What’s over Steve?”

“I’d ask you if you really want to know, but the answer is always yes,” He grumbled, nudging his face against Eddie’s hand.

Steve took a deep breath and told Eddie everything. He spoke about Eddie’s death, about being stuck in the same day for hundreds of repetitions. He told stories of Eddie’s death while brushing over similar terrors. Eddie knew he was getting a sanitised version of the tale, but still, he understood why the boy was haunted. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he were in Steve’s place.

Stories, where death could be undone with a simple flick of the page and another binary decision, were easy. In practice, with hundreds of little choices and thousands of ways things could go wrong, it seemed more akin to a nightmare.

“When you said you missed me,” Eddie breathed after a moment.

“Which version of me do you miss?” Steve’s brows pinched together, looking as though he’d been asking himself the same question.

“I don’t know. I think, shit. I think I miss a version of you that never existed. If that makes sense. I miss what I thought we could’ve been when everything was over. You’re alive. I’m alive. It was supposed to be easy after that.”

Eddie gave the boy a sad smile and nodded. To Steve, trapped in a never-ending cycle, Eddie had been his kingdom. He’d been a land to defend and a safe haven to return to. Yet, he’d wanted himself to be the same wide-eyed hero who’d left the empire, not the jaded veteran who’d returned home from war. They could never be the uncomplicated love story Steve had told himself to get through the days, but that didn’t have to mean things were ruined.

“Hey, Stevie? What’s your favourite movie?” Eddie spoke, causing Steve to really look at him for the first time since they’d started speaking of other timelines and death.

“Star Wars... The one with the teddy bears. Why?” Eddie got a goofy grin on his face, wondering how the hell someone who’d had the reputation Steve once had could love something as nerdy as Star Wars.

“You know a damn lot about me. Time we even the goddamn playing field.” Steve nodded and gnawed on his bottom lip. His eyes trailed down to Eddie’s lips. He didn’t have to know Steve well to know what he was getting at.

“Can I kiss you?” He questioned, his hand already tangling in Eddie’s hair.

His thumb ghosted over the space between his ear and jaw that always made his breath hitch. Steve knew how Eddie liked to be touched. That was a new revelation.

“We’ve kissed before, haven’t we?” Eddie questioned, Steve’s breath hot against his face.

“I haven’t kissed this version of you before,” Steve supplied with a smug grin.

“No fucking fair. You have the hometown advantage,” Eddie reasoned, and Steve let out a shocked laugh, a real one this time.

“You’ve never made a sports reference before.”

“So they’re surprises in me yet,” Eddie beamed, sick of the anticipation, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

The kiss was long and desperate. Steve clung to him, kissing him breathlessly, making Eddie weak at the knees. They had to pause when Steve let out a sharp inhale as Eddie accidentally grabbed his still-healing side. He muttered a slew of apologies, peppering Steve’s neck and jaw with kisses. He hadn’t shaved in days and Eddie felt a good kind of ache from the scrape of stubble against his jaw.

When they finally pulled apart, the two looked decidedly more dishevelled. Eddie caught his breath and whispered,

“You know, I’ve got Return of the Jedi on tape in a box someplace. You could stay over and we could... I don’t know, re-get to know each other,” Eddie proposed.

“I like the sound of that.”

#steddie ficlet #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #time loop au #stranger things #fic #ficlet #multipost fic #drabble #a #again based on a post by #@theamazingbard #back by popular demand #metalhoops writes

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