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the-lazy-cat-bakes-souffles · 2 years

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I can’t stop thinking about the way that when Robin hears Nancy’s name in Season 3 she rolls her eyes and calls her a priss, but then not five minutes later she runs into Nancy in the flesh who’s apparently in the thick of the insane situation Robin has become unwittingly wrapped up in. Her makeup is smudged and her hair is messy and she’s terse with Robin and all Robin can do is utter a flustered reply while giving her this look:

And then shortly afterwards Robin watches as Nancy plants herself in front of a station wagon full of kids and shoots at an oncoming speeding car with a pistol, fully ready to sacrifice herself to protect them. That night at the Star Court Mall changes everything Robin thought about this dainty, pretty, prissy girl who turns out to be a certified badass with nerves of steel.

After this, Robin is smitten. She volunteers to go with Nancy the moment an opportunity presents itself. When they’re waiting in the library, she assumes that Nancy has some genius trick up her sleeve because since Star Court she’s built up an idea of who she is in her mind: brilliant and brave and tenacious. Robin is so desperate for Nancy to like her that she loses all pretense of sardonic aloofness that we see around other characters and the words start spilling out, exactly as she described when venting to Steve about how she behaves around girls she’s crushing on.

Robin is self-conscious and apologetic about how she comes across to Nancy, she repeatedly tries to diffuse the underlying tension between them in any way that she can, and is particularly keen to emphasise the platonic nature of her friendship with Steve. Despite barely knowing Nancy, she starts using the nickname “Nance” right away. There’s a sincere and earnest effort to win Nancy’s approval and affection; Robin needs it more than she even realises.

And the thing is, it works. Nancy starts off cool and irritable and exasperated (which, one should point out, may be in no small part because she’d been up all night looking for her friend who she just found brutally murdered - cut her some slack folks!), but after those two hours with Robin in the library, she realises that she’s remarkably bright and creatively minded and complements her own logical way of thinking so well. You can see the journey she undergoes in that short period of time written on her face: bemusement and impatience soon give way to respect and the dawning realisation that she’s met her intellectual match, someone with the same insatiable curiosity and a whole new way of seeing the world to show her.

Nancy has so many emotional walls built up from years of repression and trauma, especially surrounding having and losing friends (not to mention, potentially, her own repressed queerness), but Robin despite her insecurities over her lack of filter and tendency to ramble and her other personal quirks manages to steal in past those defences. After that first encounter together, Nancy wants Robin by her side at all times. Even though she knows Steve, Dustin, Lucas and Max so much better, she picks Robin to come with her to Pennhurst, she asks Robin to explore the Creel House with her, she has Robin ride shotgun with her in her car. They stick together as a pair at every turn.

This is so, so important: Nancy grows to like and care about Robin because of her being totally and utterly herself. The Robin whose mouth moves faster than her brain, the Robin who is relentlessly inquisitive and goofy and clumsy, the Robin who is at her most overtly neurodivergent around her. And Robin is slowly but surely finding confidence in herself and courage through that relationship, she’s taking risks she never would have before, and learning that her perceived flaws are actually strengths. When talking to Warden Hatch at Pennhurst with Nancy, it’s her runaway way with words that saves them and leaves Nancy incredibly impressed. The unmasked, unfiltered, beautiful gay disaster Robin Buckley is the person Nancy comes to admire and develops a deep fondness for.

It’s been said many times before, but Robin and Nancy complete each other. As we’ve just established, Nancy quickly becomes a source of reassurance, inspiration and affirmation for Robin. And Robin is someone who can keep up with Nancy’s laser-focused fixations and faced-paced thinking, who can challenge her to consider things she never would have otherwise. She also encourages Nancy to be more honest with herself and makes her feel at ease at a time when she’s more lost than ever. Robin is always carefully reading Nancy and respects her opinions and feelings; she’s the friend and confidant Nancy has been missing in her life all this time since losing Barb.

When they’re talking in the woods, it’s not what Robin says about Steve or Jonathan that Nancy latches onto. What truly takes her aback is the realisation that Robin considers them to be friends, and both quietly, bashfully blush and smile to themselves at that confirmation. However adrift Nancy might be from her complex feelings over Jonathan and Steve or her unhealed emotional scars, she’s found an anchor in someone. However insecure Robin might feel about herself, she’s found a girl who she doesn’t have to pretend with.

And then we come to perhaps the most revealing scene of the season so far: when Eddie, Steve, Nancy and Robin are on the boat over Lover’s Lake. The parallels to Tammy Thompson are evident as Robin stares at Nancy who can’t pull her eyes away from Steve, and the way in which the camera focuses on the two characters in the frame imparts so much more than Robin simply being happy for the rekindled feelings of her friends. Her longing expression breaking into a soft smile and the bowing of her head feels like the sad acceptance of something she believes to be unattainable for her.

Nancy demonstrates her trademark reckless abandon to protect the people she loves when she dives in to rescue Steve without hesitation after he’s pulled under, but Robin’s reaction is gut-wrenching as she cries out Nancy’s name and reaches for her. And then Robin, who beneath her snarky facade is far more scared than she likes to let on, pushes down those fears and without wasting a second moves to go after her with a sense of resigned determination. The framing of this scene, the dialogue and Maya Hawke’s performance make it clear that Robin is willingly following Nancy Wheeler into hell. As Eddie says, that’s as sure a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.

Regardless of whether the romantic subtext is intentional or this relationship is supposed to remain strictly platonic, Nancy and Robin’s blossoming friendship is a very special one. Having swiftly dismantled their presumptions about one another, they’ve found true synergy, inspiring and pushing each other to be the best versions of themselves. In spite, or rather because of their differences, the two are slowly but surely forging a profound bond that is already one of the most charming and memorable on the show to date, and with any luck, we’ll get some meaningful and moving payoffs to their arcs together in Vol 2. Perhaps, through each other, Nancy and Robin will finally find the closure, catharsis and connection they’ve been yearning for.

Thanks so much to @meanlesbianrobin for providing the accompanying screenshots!

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #ronance #meta #stranger things spoilers #stranger things 4 spoilers #long post #mine

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rebelspykatie · 1 year

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Royalty AU where Steve becomes king after his parents die and they set up an arranged marriage proposal with Nancy before they passed away. He goes to visit her with Robin. Steve is overwhelmed and doesn’t really want to get married at all, but definitely not to Nancy. Robin’s crush on Nancy is glaringly obvious and he starts to feel guilty about being the one that gets to marry her.

So he starts hiding in the stables and riding the horses to get away from the palace. Nancy’s stable hand Eddie notices and thinks Steve is being a little shit for not asking if he can go out riding, until he catches him coming back with tear stained eyes. He doesn’t say anything to him the first time, but it keeps happening.

He finally talks to him and has a moment where he goes uh oh this guy is great, repeatedly telling himself not to fall for a betrothed king. He respects Nancy and doesn’t want to get in the way of this arrangement, but he feels something for Steve so fast. He finds out that Steve isn’t crying over his dead parents, who he actually really resented especially now that he’s caught up in this agreement, but over the situation with Nancy and Robin.

They start taking rides together and get lost in the woods for hours, sometimes having picnics, sometimes swimming in the lake. Eddie’s favorite is when he teaches Steve how to toss knives. He gets close under the guise of showing Steve how to do it, pressing their bodies close together and just breathing Steve in.

Robin brings up his relationship with Eddie one night and Steve just has a complete breakdown, crying over the expectations put upon him by his parents, the weight of running a whole kingdom on his own, and his unexpected feelings for Eddie. Robin opens up about her feelings for Nancy and they hold each other while they cry, thinking it’s hopeless.

Meanwhile, Nancy is scheming with Eddie to figure out how they can switch partners and get out of the royal arrangement. Nancy is meeting with legal advisors and having tea with dignitaries of both kingdoms to discuss the impact their severed relationship would have on trade relations and public approval of Steve if he marries someone not noble. Robin is a royal of some kind like a lady or duchess, so Nancy should be fine. Steve is all alone in his kingdom, so she wants to make sure he’ll be okay.

Eddie is speed running through royal lessons with Mike and Will, learning everything he can about Steve’s kingdom. He starts taking sword lessons from Nancy. When they finally confront Steve and Robin with their plan, both of them sit there in shock clutching each other and it’s like there’s one brain cell pinging back and forth between them as they simultaneously come to the conclusion that it means their crush likes them back.

When Eddie goes back with Steve, there’s an official celebration for their newly announced engagement. Once Eddie settles in, Steve finds out about the sword lessons and suggests Eddie become a knight, where he meets the group tasked with protecting Steve and the kingdom from danger. Dustin, Erica, Lucas and Max are Steve’s personal protection squad.

#my fantasy world is medieval but no homophobia #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #ronance #I started this draft one night and then forgot about it and came back like ??#this one is for the horse girls #babygirl is a horse girl #readers choice on who I’m talking about #katie writes

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sarahmadisonxoxo · 1 year

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The Date(Part 1)

“So, you finally asked Eddie out. Congratulations! "I didn’t think you had it in you” Robin sounded relieved, her back turned to Steve as she sat on the edge of the counter picking through a box of skittles. “Why are there so many purples in here? It’s objectively the worst flavor.” Steve quietly snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “They all taste the exact same Robin.” “ So why do they have flavors on the package... Steve. Think about that” she retorted, shooting him a pointed look over her shoulder. “Don’t try to change the subject Harrington... I want details. Eddie seemed...” “ I didn’t ask him out.” Steve blurted out cutting her off. “ But? He seemed so happy earlier. I could have sworn.” “ It wasn’t...” It wasn’t the right time. It wasn’t easy to find the right words... to express everything he wanted to say. The truth was Steve choked up. It was an unfortunate consequence of standing so close to Eddie. Not even close, just near him. That’s all it took for his brain to resemble slush. The faintest hint of leather, cigarette smoke, musk, and something faintly spicy. Cinnamon? Eddie did always seem to keep a pack of big red on him, carelessly shoved into his jean pocket next to his crushed pack of cigarettes. The metalhead seemed to have a preference for cinnamon candies. Steve had tried Eddie’s usual pick of red hots at their last group movie night. It took most of the movie and several beers to stop the burning on his tongue. Why did Eddie willingly choose that? He wasn’t going to judge though. “ I couldn’t do it. Okay? This isn’t just some girl” “ I know Steve. This isn’t a girl, it’s Eddie. A friend. Someone who cares about you, someone you care about. “ “ It’s ” “Different. Yeah, Steve I know. No one is forcing you to say anything, if you don’t want to tell him. You don’t have to” Robin understood, she understood that pushing Steve on this wouldn’t work. This was something he had to come to on his own terms. No matter how much she wanted to interfere... Steve hadn’t pushed her with Vickie. He’d offered full support when she’d admitted her feelings to him about Nancy. Steve going as far to offer personal advice on what she liked, her tells. Pushing him to open up to Eddie wasn’t fair. They could pathetically long after their respective crush in the safety of Family Video. The bell on the door rang. Cueing a half-hearted greeting from Steve as he kept his eyes trained on the computer. “ Welcome to Family Video. I am Steve. Please let me know if you need any help.” “ That was good... This time try it with more feeling. “Eddie’s laughter rang through the room. “I think I preferred the scoops ahoy greeting. What was it, Stevie?” “ What do you want Munson...” Steve questioned, not trusting himself enough to pull his eyes away from the blue screen. “Horror movies are on the back wall... and no I won’t wave any more of your late fees. “ “ Ms. Buckley. Always a pleasure” Eddie cheered, bowing in her direction. “ Hey Eddie...” Robin smiled, offering a two-fingered salute before diving back to pick through her box of candy. “Steve’s right though. We can’t wave anymore fees; Keith is starting to breathe down our necks. “ “ Good to know.” Eddie hummed, as if he was taking any of the information to heart. “Actually, I came to ask Steve something. “ That pulled Steve’s eyes from the computer, taking his first look at Eddie since he’d walked in. A heavily worn Metallica shirt with the sleeves cut. It had been an unusually warm summer. The dark fabric stuck to his body in a way that shouldn’t have been attractive. Dark lines of ink against his torso catching Steve’s eyes. He didn’t realize how long he’d been staring until Robin cleared her throat... At least Eddie didn’t seem to notice. Small victories, right? “ Sure Munson what is it? “ Eddie paused, like he suddenly forgot what he was going to say. Or did he lose courage? Enough of that... what would Eddie be nervous to ask him? He needed to be realistic. “ It’s about a... uh. “Eddie’s fingers came to fidget with a ring on his finger. “Can I ask you later? Would you mind stopping by after work? It’s a little embarrassing” “ Yeah sure man... Of course. I get off in a few hours.” “ Great” the metalhead breathed out, a sigh of relief? “Thanks, big boy... I’ll see you later. See ya Robin” “ Bye” No one spoke again until Eddie was gone. “ What do you think that was about? “Steve questioned, bringing his attention back to Robin. “ I don’t know...” She shrugged. “but I want details Harrington. All the juicy details” Story Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43957300/chapters/110526340 Part 1 /// Part 2 /// Part 3 ///

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve stranger things #bisexual eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #stranger things #lgbtq #fanfiction #headcanon #i hope this makes sense

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

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Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler have a well-known channel on YouTube (the name is something horrible and punny that Eddie and Robin made up, way before they blew up - Four Some (just some four guys and gals you perv). They cover pretty much everything - music reviews, various activities like ice skating, pole dancing or sculpting, they do tasting videos, social experiments and much more. Their personalities are so different but somehow that only makes their content more appealing. It doesn't matter if their videos contain Steve and Eddie replicating the famous pottery scene from the Ghost (and Robin's screeches that they ruined a completely fine vase) or Robin testing whether Nancy's vocal range increases proportionately to how many wine glasses she drinks

Gradually they grow their audience and gather a small crew that works with them. Barb Holland does a lot of editing and directing and she is getting recognized for her achievements, just like Gareth Emerson for his work with sound. Everyone in their crew are friends and are supporting each other in growing and promoting their talents.

There is only one person who has always remained a mystery. The person filming them, always hidden behind a camera. Credits always mention Chris C. and the fanbase tries to pry and figure out who they are, they really do, but the group shuts down their attempts almost instantly. "Chris has been instrumental to this channel's success," Eddie says and there is something hard behind his eyes, something that almost never makes it past his laid-back attitude and usual theatrics. "They have decided to stay out of our videos for a reason and we'd like you to respect their decision."

Not everyone drops it, but the four creators assume a united front and eventually, people stop prying. So it comes as a shock when around a year later, a new video drops on the channel. But the face in it is unknown.

"Hi guys," the young woman smiles and she looks so dejected, so scared, but the sound guy Garreth sits next to her and squeezes her hand, grounding her. "I swore I'd never sit in front of a camera again, but...I think it's time. So let me introduce myself. I am Chrissy Cunningham, but you know me as Chris C. And also..." she takes a deep breath, "I am also Chrissy from the Cunningham family channel."

Chrissy goes through it all. She talks about her life with her mother, an obsessive family blogger, who had Chrissy give up all her hobbies, her friends, her privacy from a young age. How her only friend became the school outcast, Eddie, and she had to keep him a secret too - not because she was ashamed, he meant everything to her, but because her mother would steal him too. How she could never have anything of her own, was always on camera, always tested for reactions, always forced to perform and mocked for it at school. How she couldn't handle it anymore and as soon as she was eighteen, she moved in with Eddie and his uncle. How it was only then that she started learning about herself, about who she was and what she wanted to do. "Now that you know who I am, I hope you can look past what I was made to do years ago and see me as...me. Just me."

She and Gareth leave their seats and are replaced with Eddie and Nancy. While Eddie mostly sits quietly, Nancy introduces their newest project that Chrissy suggested - documentaries on dangers of YouTube, TikTok and their insufficient regulations, especially when it comes to family vloggers and loss of privacy. "It might not be everyone's cup of tea, but that is exactly the point", says Nancy and looks directly at the camera. "We're here on camera, showing you parts of our lives that we want to show. But there are many who didn't consent to this, many who are being exploited for views. And on behalf of this chanel, let me address those who think this is okay. We're coming for you."

#steddie #ronance #drumcheer #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #barb holland #chrissy cunningham #gareth emerson #look I love YT #but some things are seriously fucked up there

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tieronecrush · 11 months

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OKAY I SAW SOMEONE ELSE ASK THIS SOMEWHERE ELSE BUT I HAVE MY OWN TWIST.

So actor!Joel and actress!reader are on set and they have a pool table & Joel finds out that reader has never played pool before and his determined to teacher her. So Joel invites her back to his place where he has a pool table in an “entertainment” kind of room at his place. Then he’s helping reader try to play but she can’t focus with his hands on her and him up against him so after a few shots she just decides to tease him. And then just take it away from there 😫

umm this request made my brain go crazy like first of all, actor!joel?? i picture him similar to matthew mcconaughey (probably cause both are from austin lol) but like slightly a little more awkward or kind of grumpy. just not as pretty boy suave kind of southern charm man like mcconaughey but still obviously handsome and endearing. also i am a sucker for competency of any kind so joel having a skill you don’t have and wanting to teach you?? hot. tysm for requesting this from me, i had so much fun with it!

orange crush

actor!joel x actress!reader

orange crush: the weaker player is given the 5 orange ball and the break, also known as the crush. this is a handicap with the name derived from the defense of the denver broncos football team.

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

word count: 4k

warnings: au joel, actor!joel, no age mentioned, no use of y/n, use of pet names (darling, sugar, sweetness, sweet girl, baby), really bad descriptions of playing pool/billiards, mentions of alcohol use, mentions of food/eating, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk

i did not proofread cause i am feeling lazy today, so apologies for typos or bad grammar

“Cut! Let’s wrap for lunch everyone, back to shooting in an hour!”

The loud bell rings twice after the director, Nancy, calls out to everyone on set, and you immediately relax from the scene's tension and fall out of character, looking up at Joel kneeling next to you on the mattress in the middle of the soundstage. Broad shoulders lead down to muscular arms, veins popping out of his forearms as he strains to hold his weight comfortably over you. His bare chest feels strong under where your hands are still resting, your legs spread around his hips. The intimacy coordinator, Julie, starts to cross the stage, with two robes in her hands.

“Great job, guys! It all looked awesome on camera, was the choreography more comfortable for you two this time?” Julie smiles as she hands Joel his robe, his frame scooting back away from you and standing up from off the mattress. He clothes himself as you sit up from your position, taking your own dressing gown from Julie.

“Felt a lot better to me, not sure how you felt about it?” Joel’s eyes fall away from you as you dress again, his body turning full towards Julie and his large hand moving up to cradle the back of his neck. The tiny hint of awkwardness behind his body language makes a smile tug at the corners of your mouth; the man is gorgeous and confident in his acting, but the suave persona that most of his characters have doesn’t quite reach Joel. He’s endearing and so incredibly respectful, his Southern manners and caring personality have pulled you to him like a magnet.

“I think it was a lot better too. Much more…natural, I would say.”

Joel nods in agreement and Julie smiles, clapping her hands together as she looks back and forth at the two of you standing on set. After a quick conversation about small details she wants to change up for the handful of takes they want to get after lunch, all three of you part ways. You run back to your trailer to change out of the (minimal) costuming you’ve got on and into some loungewear, heading back over to grab your lunch and eat with some of the crew like you’ve been doing for the entire shoot.

Your eyes scan the room for Joel, disappointment blooming in your chest when he’s nowhere to be found. It’s not like you two had made any plans to hang out over lunch, and after what you had spent all morning doing, you figured he wanted some space to recuperate before getting back at it in an hour.

Both of you have been spending more and more time together in between scenes and after half days of filming. He’ll grab you a coffee and breakfast from craft services most mornings, hand delivering it to you while you get your makeup done, and always getting the right amount of milk and sugar. After one conversation about how much you loved Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and how Joel had never read the classic novel, you had lent him your prized and battered copy. You'd shown up to your trailer the following Monday to the whole set of Jane Austen classics with beautiful artistic designs across their clothbound covers. The copy you had let him borrow sat next to the set, and the new Pride and Prejudice he had gifted you had been pulled out of the box and laid on top, and when you flipped open the cover, you were met with an inscription Joel had left in his chicken scratch handwriting:

“I can see why you’ve always loved it. You’re Elizabeth. And I admire you ardently. - J”

How could you not have a crush on him after that?

Once you're finished eating, there’s still a generous amount of time left on lunch so you head over to the break area filled with crew members playing cards, lounging around and chatting, and even playing ping pong and pool at the tables on the far end of the room. Searching for a group to join, the royal purple Lakers shirt you saw this morning in the makeup trailer catches your eye.

Joel is leaning over the pool table, cue balanced between the knuckle of his index finger and the pad of his thumb, concentration evident in his constricted pupils and the flat line of his lips pressed together. The hand reached back on his cue pulls the wooden stick back and snaps it forward, sending the white ball rolling quickly across the table and knocking the blue-striped ball inside the corner pocket.

Meandering up to the green felt-covered table, you settle next to one of the sound guys, Phil, to watch as Joel continues his turn. He makes it look easy, sinking two more resin balls into the pockets before his last shot misses by a few centimeters.

Joel’s focus breaks as he lifts his gaze from the surface and holds the cue vertically, head turning towards Phil to say something when he notices you standing there. A smile stretches his mouth to one side, boots shuffling along the concrete floor as he traipses up to you.

“I have to say, those were some impressive skills there, Joel.” He laughs softly and leans on one hip, holding the stick out to the side as it rests on the floor.

“Why thank you, sugar. Could’ve aimed a bit better at that last shot, but I think my angle was off in the first place so I don’t think I was gettin’ it in no matter what I tried.”

“I have no idea what you mean, so I’m just gonna smile and nod like I understand.” Your head moves up and down, and Joel gives you a playfully quizzical look.

“You’ve never played pool, like ever? Not even tryin’ one shot?” You give him a shrug, eyes pulling away from his to watch as Phil sinks one of his shots.

“Never. Didn’t have a table growing up and never had the chance to learn. I barely understand the basic rules, like why do you put them all in the triangle thing and how do you decide who’s the stripes or the fully colored ones?”

“Well, it’s pretty easy to pick up,” Joel glances at his watch and then looks back at you, your eyes meeting his as he addresses you, “We don’t have much time left on lunch, but I’ve got a table at my place if you’d wanna come by after filming tonight to learn.”

“Oh, no it’s alright. You don’t have to go out of your way to teach me the game, Joel. You should relax and enjoy the night off tonight.”

His lips quirk up in a boyish grin, head shaking as he hits the cue against the ground as if he were announcing a proclamation.

“I insist. I wanna teach you. Plus, what if the next big role you’re up for is for some femme fatale professional pool player? You would definitely need to know at least the basics to get the part.” That makes you laugh, picturing whatever ridiculous movie that would be a part of. Before you can get nervous about the thought of it being only the two of you at his house, the PA announces over the loudspeakers that you and Joel are being called back to set in the next ten minutes. You can feel a flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you match his smile, doing your best to hide the nervous excitement you’re feeling.

“Alright, Mr. Miller. I’ll come by tonight. How’s eight o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect, darlin’. I’ll send you my address.”

Joel is all over his house. Not physically, but you can see and hear and smell him around you as you make your way into the basement behind him, drink that he made you in hand, and listen to him answer your questions about when he moved into the house in the hills.

A worn chestnut leather couch filled with navy blue and rich maroon red throw pillows takes up most of the seating area. You’re surprised by how soft all of his furnishings are, the touches of mid-century modern with eclectic patterns across the whole place with a Turkish rug across the floor and hints of his Texan background in his art decorating the wall and coffee table books on the glass surface.

It feels like a home.

And it’s immediately comfortable, feeling like you’ve spent hours or days of your life here despite it being the first time.

His pool table is a deep wood, burgundy felt covering the playing surface. It’s a much more modern shape than most tables you’ve seen before, fitting in seamlessly with the rest of the basement.

Joel sets his glass of whiskey down, crossing the room to grab a cue off of the holder on the wall. A small cube of blue chalk sits in his large hand as he comes back to you, trading your drink for the chalk.

“You want to rub the chalk on the end of the cue, keeps it from slipping against the surface of the ball.” He places your drink next to his and steps to the side of you as you both settle at the edge of the table helping you to get the pool stick into position.

His hands cover yours as he instructs you on how to place your hands and fingers to balance the cue for a good shot, leaning back but placing his palm on your lower back as his deep timbre vibrates in your eardrum and sends goosebumps down your spine.

“So you’ve got it all lined up now, does this position feel good to you?”

You nearly joke at the question, your mind pulling you to a completely different scenario. With a hem, you clear your throat and nod, using all of your power to make your voice come out cool and collected.

“Yeah, feels good.”

“Alright then, sugar, give it a shot. Just aim towards the center to break, and then we can take it from there.”

You can still feel him close behind you as you pull the cue back with one hand, forcing it forward and watching as it strikes the solid white ball. Rolling across the table, it makes a knocking sound against the resin of the yellow number one ball. The rest of the triangle falls apart, sending each piece of the game in all directions. You stand up, grinning happily at the results, and feel Joel’s chest against your shoulders.

He steps back a few inches to look down at you, mirroring your expression with a glint of pride in his eyes.

“Great job, darlin’. Seems like you might be a natural at this.”

You’re tempted to make a “that’s what she said joke” to break the tension building in the air, but any words get caught in your throat at the feeling of Joel’s warm hand resting against your waist. He turns you back to the table, mapping out each possible shot you could take to decide whether you’d take the solids or stripes. You go with whatever shot he said last, your brain not computing anything else but his proximity and the smell of his cologne filling your nose. Cedarwood, cypress, patchouli, and vetiver mix together, wafting off of his skin and smelling of summer. All you want to do at the moment is bury your head in his neck, taking in the scent of his cologne with his musk and pressing soft kisses at the corner of his jaw.

Thoughts babble on about him, half listening to him as he explains the game and helps you with each shot that you make. Heat flows off of him, his calloused fingers from playing guitar brush against your exposed arms in your short sleeve blouse, gently manipulating you into place.

Every touch ripples more adrenaline through your limbs, head lost in the clouds as you imagine him bending you into positions for a different reason.

After a few more shots, fully distracted in your mind, you decide that you’ve had enough of being the only one out of focus. It was so easy for him to get you worked up while teaching you, but wouldn’t it be just as simple to do the same for him as the student?

In the next shot that Joel is teaching you, his hands fall to your hips to angle them closer to the table. You take the opportunity to bend a few inches forward, seemingly reaching to stretch your arm on the table without using your elbow like he had taught you only about fifteen minutes prior. The bend of your spine swings your hips back more, pressing your ass against his thighs and the crotch of his jeans.

“Basically, you’ll want to-to, um,” Joel trips on his words at the contact, letting out a quiet exhale before continuing, “You want to aim the cue to the right side of the ball to spin it and get it to curve towards the left.”

You feign understanding with a nod, using your years of drama training to act confused. You move the cue way too much to the right, looking back over your shoulder at Joel with doe eyes.

God, you hate that you’re acting dumb to tease him, but it’s what you can think of to keep his hands on you.

“Like this?”

His lips press together in a straight line, eyes avoiding yours as he shakes his head. Stepping out from behind you, he moves to your side and touches the cue instead of your hands to move it to the correct placement.

You take the shot, the spin of the ball too fast and charts off course to hit against the wall. Your back straightens as you stand up, looking at him next to you.

“Maybe it would help to see you do it?”

“Sure, darlin’.” Joel’s lips curl up into a soft smirk, taking the stick from you and setting up the shot for himself. You press in behind him, leaning to look over his shoulder at his form. Fingertips ghost up his spine, splaying out to wrap around the nape of his neck to support yourself. Your chest is pushed against his muscular back, and your free hand slides from his shoulder down his bicep to rest in the crease of his elbow.

A smirk finds your lips as you hear Joel huff out a sigh quietly, easily taking his shot and sinking the ball in the pocket.

Joel stands back up, and your hands stay on him for a second, dropping to take the cue back from him but instead of handing it back to you, he lays it across the table.

“You don’t wanna play anymore?”

Joel leans a hip against the edge of the playing surface, head shaking back and forth as he locks his gaze with yours. His eyes are darker than you’ve seen them before, a confident composure across his relaxed features. He doesn’t say anything more, and you stutter to fill the silence.

“Well, um, should I head out? I know we have an early call time tomorrow so I totally get it if you wanna get some sleep.”

Joel stands up straight, broad frame taking up your vision as he closes the gap between the two of you. One of his hands goes to your cheek, thumbing skating across your skin and your eyes flutter closed at the touch.

“I don’t want you to go, sugar. And I don’t think you wanna leave either. Am I right?”

A thick swallow echoes in your ears when you nod, eyes opening again to fasten with his.

“Yes.”

“And I think, maybe, you want me to kiss you as much as I want to kiss you. Is that right, too?”

“Maybe. I want you to kiss me, but I don’t know how much you wanna kiss me, so I can’t confirm or deny that thought.”

Joel smirks and chuckles softly, eyes rolling playfully.

“Always contesting.”

“Yeah, but you like it.”

It’s your turn to smirk, leaning your head into his expansive palm. He tilts your head back to look up at him more, a glimmer of lust in his eyes, and his head moving closer by inches to ghost his lips over yours.

“I do. I like everything about you,” the Texan drawl weaves into his words, a rustic rasp in his voice that floods your core.

Before you can respond, your bottom lip is caught between his in a light kiss.

After a few seconds, he pulls away and you chase after him, connecting in a deeper kiss with him. Your hands find his chest, one slipping up and around his neck to hold him close. Your lips part as you inhale shortly, and Joel takes the chance to lick into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan that gets swallowed in the exchange.

Joel’s hand drops from your face, gripping your hips with his other and turning you to push you back against the pool table. His bulge is flush against you and you cant your hips against him in an attempt to release some of the growing pressure in your gut. Joel groans against your mouth, fingers notching in the waistband of your jeans, pulling his lips away and saying in between panting breaths.

“Is this alright?”

You nod quickly and grab his hands in yours, guiding them toward the button and zipper of your pants.

“More than okay, Joel.”

He takes your words and actions in stride, fingers popping the button loose and drawing down your zipper. He pushes the fabric over the swell of your ass and down your legs while you tug your shirt over your head. As Joel settles on his knees to free your ankles, your hands find the collar of his shirt and pull gently to hint at him.

Immediately, he strips out of the t-shirt he was wearing, tossing it to the side with your garments. Large hands skim across the velvety skin of your thighs, Joel’s ghostly kisses cresting waves of goosebumps. He presses his lips to your clothed mound, a shiver crawling up your spine as it arches and pushes your hips closer to him.

Joel looks up at you with a devilish grin on his face, grip shifting to the sides of your legs and working to turn you around. A hand at your lower back nudges you to bend forward to lay your front on the table’s surface, a whine falling from your lips when you feel Joel’s breath fanning across your panties that are stuck to your center with your wetness.

“Please, Joel…”

“Hmm? What, sweet girl? What do you need from me?”

His hands tease over the folds of your cunt, featherlight touches pulling soft whimpers from you. Your eyes close as you focus on the feeling of his fingers on your skin, taking a breath before answering.

“I need you to touch me. Please, baby.”

Joel hums at the pet name, pressing a kiss to one of your asscheeks before grazing his teeth over the same spot. You moan his name and he chuckles darkly from behind.

“I can do that for you, darlin’. Can I taste you too?”

“Yesyesyes. Pretty please.”

Joel works your panties from your waist, dropping them to fall to your ankles and you step one foot out of them. His hand holds one of your thighs and one of the sides of your ass, pursed lips blowing cool air against your soaked pussy.

“So pretty. Did me teaching you and having my hands on you get you dripping like this, sweetness? Naughty girl.” He smacks a light slap to your backside, using his digits to rub soothing circles into the spot as he leans between your legs and licks up from your clit to your taint, tongue pausing to slip into your entrance to tease you. A moan slips loudly from your lips, eyes screwing shut as you blindly reach to grip the edge of the table.

Joel sucks as your clit, thumb notching at your entrance. Your hips press back to feel more of him, and he lets out a groan at your need. He pulls away with a smack of his lips, biting a nip into your inner thigh.

“Taste so good, baby. Such a sweet pussy for a sweet girl.”

One of his thick fingers drags through your seam, gathering your wetness before slipping easily into your cunt. As he thrusts his digit in and out, his lips attach to your clit again, alternating between tongue-swirling circles and suckling at the spot. Whines pour from your mouth, his name the only coherent word you can speak.

A second finger glides in along with the first, stretching you further and filling you up even more. Grinding back against his face and hand, Joel’s moan vibrates against your pussy and adds to the pleasure he’s building up and up as he kneels behind you.

“Fuck, Joel, want your tongue.”

“Anything you want, sweetness.”

His fingers pull out of you, quickly being replaced with his tongue thrusting into you. Wanton moans and whines fill the room along with the squelch of your wetness against his mouth, the stubbly, patchy beard covering his chin scratching against your sensitive skin. His fingers coated in your arousal find your bud, working the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter toward your release.

“I’m close, baby, so fucking close.”

Without a response through words, Joel works you faster, free hand gripping tightly to keep you in place as you try to lean away from the intense stimulation he’s giving you. Eyes screw shut, jaw dropping with a rumbling moan of his name as you come, white spots sparking against the black of your vision.

“Such a good girl. Such pretty sounds from you, sugar. Could listen to you all night.”

His fingers are still circling languidly around your clit, his tongue swiping along your folds to collect your come. Your hips twitch in overstimulation, a hand reaching back as you straighten up, tangling with his graying locks to pull him away from you.

His chin and lips glisten in the low lighting of the basement, a dab of your wetness caught on the tip of his nose. A haze covers his eyes as he looks up at you as if you were from another world, completely pussy-drunk. Kisses are pressed delicately to the back of your thighs and you hum contently, tugging at his hair to ask him silently to stand up.

You turn as his arms wrap around your waist, hands gripping your ass to pull as close as possible. The two of you share a kiss, the taste of you all over his lips and his tongue. Pulling away, you rest back in his arms, a confession crossing your mind.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything, sugar,” Joel rasps out, squeezing the swell of your ass.

A smirk plays at your face, teeth catching your bottom lip between them before you speak.

“I know how to play. My dad started teaching me when I was like twelve. Had a table in my basement and everything.” Joel’s eyebrows raise in surprise, and after a beat of silence, a loud laugh breaks through the room and his head falls back. He laughs for a hot minute before looking back at you, a wide grin on his face.

“Are you telling me that you kind of…hustled me?”

“I mean, if you can do it for getting eaten out instead of money, then yeah, I guess I did.”

That gets him to laugh again, shaking his head as he leans down and kisses you sweetly.

“Darlin’, if that’s what you think of it as, you can hustle me any day you want.”

It’s your turn to press a kiss to his lips, pulling away with a grin.

“Well, I’ll make sure to only hustle you. Things might get awkward if I did it in the break area on set.”

“Extremely awkward. But I’m honored to be the only one to get hustled by you.”

You laugh and shake your head at his cheesiness, rolling your eyes playfully before grabbing his shirt off the ground and pulling it over your head.

“Alright, rack up, Miller. We’re playing for real. Winner gets hustled, by my definition of the word.” You send him a wink as you step over to grab a cue, watching as Joel scrambles to set up a game for the two of you.

“Oh, you’re on, sweet girl. But I hope you realize, I’m winning either way.” He smirks at you and gives you one last kiss before nodding to the table.

“You got the crush, sugar. Go for it.”

“We both have the crush, honey. That’s how we ended up here.”

tagging some peeps: @swiftispunk @joelsversion @johnwatsn @beskarandblasters @atinylittlepain @lunapascal @ladamedusoif @pedrospartner @pedgeitopascal @addictedtotlou @death-wife @wannab-urs @northernwindd @devilmademepostit @scrambledslut @pr0ximamidnight @theelishad @thetriumphantpanda @dinsdjrn @midnightswithdearkatytspb @spideysimpossiblegirl

#joel #writing #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller au #actor!joel #requests #asks

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Steve x Eddie Werewolf AU

Part One

Part Two

Steve hadn't intended to be the Alpha werewolf of a capitol P Pack.

Of course, he hadn't planned on discovering an entire hell dimension hiding under Hawkins either so it was safe to say most of his predetermined life plans had gone totally sideways.

Now, as he stood amongst his friends, his family, who were once again gearing up to fight something they shouldn't have too, he couldn't keep his eyes off the odd wolf out.

Except Eddie "the freak" Munson wasn't out of place--and that was the problem.

Steve watched as he tussled with Dustin, the serious edge that had been clinging to the younger boy's shoulders disappearing as Eddie tackled him to the ground, cackling.

It made them look their ages for once.

"Are you thinking about bringing him into the Pack?" Robin asked as she poured more gasoline into a bottle, ever observant.

Steve didn't bother playing dumb. No point, with her. "I was going to offer, yeah. Before we go back into the Upside Down."

Robin hummed softly, setting the bottle aside for a moment.

"Would give him way better protection against Vecna." Steve said, as if that was reason enough to claim Eddie, and not like he hadn't basically adopted the guy since the older wolf stuck a bottle against his throat.

Which in turn had made Steve's own wolf wake up and take notice.

He'd thought he was going to have to fight off the urge to shift, form his hands into claws and tear into Munson. Instead what he’d gotten was a confusing tangle of approval, admiration and his ever present urge to protect coming out in full force.

It wasn't his fault he'd immediately noticed the sheer fear rolling off Eddie, and how he'd overcome it to fight anyway.

How he trembled as he knelt down, his wolf staring out of his eyes, but never once lost control.

Listened to Dustin, and respected the kid enough to calm down for him, even though the younger boy was really the only person Eddie knew was truly friendly, let alone trustworthy staring him down in that shed.

Then came all the sass, how he lit up when Steve brought him his favorite foods. The dramatic way he'd crooned and hugged Steve, like the act of giving a box of honeycombs was akin to a proposal.

(Of course, for Steve, it was.

One that he and his wolf made together.

An offering of family. Of protection, safety and love.

The decision wasn't just his to make, though and he knew it.

It never had been.

Steve might have been raised by snide, old school Werewolves, born and bred to do things the traditional way, but all tradition had ever done was hurt him in ways he had sworn to never pass on to his own packmates.)

"It would also give him a home with people who know and understand what going through all this does to you." Robin added softly, leaning into Steve's side and putting her head on his shoulder. "I definitely needed that. After Starcourt."

Steve put the bottle he was working on down next to Robin's, then leaned his head atop hers.

"We all did." He agreed.

"Plus he fits in." Steve didn't have to see her face to feel her smirk as Eddie went to pull on Dustin’s underwear, cackling madly as Dustin shrieked and called him a cheater.

"But you already knew that."

Steve smiled. "The kids love him, yeah."

He got an elbow to the gut for that one.

"Not what I meant dingus, and you know it." She pulled her head back, only so she could look onto Steve's face. "That boys been flirting with you since you brought him beer."

Steve sputtered.

"I've had to bear witness to the Harrington charm before, don't think I didn't see it in action the other day." Robin poked him in the cheek with a finger. "Just because you're a bit more reserved when it comes to flirting with guys doesn't mean I didn't catch it.”

Nancy walked up the hill, coming to sit down next to them as Steve sputtered.

For once she didn't say a thing about how close Robin and Steve were sitting, instead opting to sit on Steve's open side.

"Are we discussing claiming Eddie as part of the Pack?" She asked, causing Robin to give her a delighted grin.

"We are indeed, my extremely smart friend."

"No arguments from you then if I offer?" Steve asked.

He wasn't going to bother asking the kids, he knew what their answer would be.

The decisions were made among the elder pack members anyway, and would be until the kids reached an age were they could make decisions that didn’t constantly end in half of them getting killed, but with Jonathan out of the picture in California it came down just to Nancy and Robin.

Nancy put her head in a hand, watching as Lucas and Erica became involved in the tussle with Eddie and Dustin.

"No." She said, after a moment.

'He's dominant, Nance." Steve warned, because the last thing he needed was to bring Eddie in only for a fight to break out over who would act as the Packs Second in Command.

Nancy smiled, looking gentle as she tucked her legs up underneath her. "If he wants my position he can have it. The kids listen to him better anyway."

“You're sure?” Steve asked. He knew she was, could feel through their bonds that she was, but he had to ask it. Needed to hear the confirmation.

Nancy rolled her eyes at him. “Yes Steve. Now are you going to go get him, or are we going to wait for Vecna to spring something on us? Because for once it would be nice to add a pack member without some kind of threat forcing it.”

Steve rolled his eyes back at her, but quietly agreed.

“Make sure Robin doesn’t blow herself up making molotovs, would you?.” He asked as he stood, dusting grass and dirt off his pants.

Robin flipped him off.

xXx

"Guys, I need to borrow Eddie for a second." Steve called as he approached, mostly to prevent anyone from turning on him at the last second and trying to physically drag him into their game.

"Fine Steve, but I want him back as soon as you're done!" Dustin shouted, releasing his hold on Eddie’s jacket.

The older wolf grinned. "Oh I'm sure Harrington will be gentle."

Steve rolled his eyes, but turned around when Eddie reached him, taking a meandering path back up to the winnebago.

"You can call me Steve, you know." He said as they walked.

Eddie just jostled him with a grin, playfully bouncing on his feet. "Aww, but that's just no fun, Handsome!"

Steve felt a blush burn at the tips of his ears, but kept kept it off his face. "Handsome works fine too."

"So what're we talking about? Is this more Vecna plans? Stuff kiddies ears cannot hear?"

Steve wobbled his hand back and forth. "Yes and no. It'll help with Vecna, but it's…more than that."

Eddie raised an eyebrow at him as the path Steve took them behind the van, well away from the kids and just out of sight of Robin and Nancy.

"Well spit it out man, you're blue balling me here."

"You're not part of a Pack, right?" Steve blurted out. It hadn’t been until this moment that he realized he'd never actually offered this to anyone, having always claimed someone either in an emergency or via the kids being pushy assholes.

Offering a place in a Pack was a big deal, but given the nature of his, Steve felt he earned the ability to say his was beyond special. The people he invited into it were as well, and they deserved to be asked properly.

Eddie deserved to be asked, properly.

The same Eddie who blinked at his question, then laughed.

It wasn’t a nice laugh.

“What do you think? No one wanted me before I was the town murderer, and even if I survive this shit?” He leaned in, like he was sharing a secret. “Absolutely no ones going to want me now.”

Steve frowned at him, startled.

Caught how Eddie’s scent changed right before he got a handle on it, reeling his emotions in before the sadness soaking his words became obvious.

”That’s not--no--right, okay.” Steve huffed, frustrated at himself. “Any Pack would be lucky to have you, Eddie. They’d be stupid to buy the murderer crap.”

Eddie scoffed. “I think you of all people should know anyone would be stupid to take me on.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m a dumbass then.” He responded, before mentally kicking himself.

He was fumbling. He knew he was fumbling, and a part of him wanted to groan aloud.

This was not how this was supposed to go. He was getting Dustin to write him a speech, stat.

On second thought, maybe he’d have Nancy write it.

"What?” Eddie asked, but it was flat, the playfulness gone. Now there was apprehension in those big eyes of his, and fumbling or not, proper or not, Steve wasn’t having it.

Not for the guy his kids adored. Not for the one who had leapt into a lake after him to fend off bats, and then complimented him after.

"I'm saying I want-- I'd love to have you in mine."

A pause.

"My uh, my Pack." Steve clarified in the growing silence, like it wasn’t obvious.

Eddie stared at him.

Steve was blowing this. He was absolutely and totally blowing this, and he was going to workshop a whole damn spiel the next time this happened. (Not that he ever wanted to claim anyone else. Damn Pack was already too big.)

"I'm offering to claim you." He added dumbly, when Eddie didn't say anything.

"I'm dominant, Steve." The older wolf deadpanned. "Not enough to gun for your position--and frankly man after seeing your warrior form rip those damn bats in half I don't think anyone in Hawkins is dominant enough to take you--but."

Eddie worked his jaw, looked away. "I'd definitely be a problem for your current rankings."

As if Steve hadn’t already figured that out.

"Nancy has agreed to step down as Second." Steve told him, glad he'd had the forethought to have an answer to a problem for once.

Eddie gave him a disbelieving look. "Nancy, "more guns than sense--and she has a lot of sense" Wheeler agreed to bow out of being the Pack's second? For me?"

"For you." Steve agreed, knowing the implication that Nancy found him worthy to succeed her, would make Eddie blush. "If it helps though I think you're doing her a favor. I worry a lot about the kids and I think she's tired of riding herd on them. She's happy stepping down.”

"All of the power, none of the administrative overhead." Eddie agreed vaguely, fiddling with his rings. His hair swung down to cover part of his face as he stared hard at his hands.

"Which means of course, means you get to help cart around the kids." Steve tried to grin at him, hoping they were getting back onto firmer ground.

"I see how it is, you're bringing me in for my van." Eddie said, as if he hadn't ditched his vehicle halfway in the woods.

His voice was off though.

It wasn’t until Eddie made the mistake of glancing up that Steve saw how wet his eyes were. The tears he was holding back through force of will alone.

"I'm wanted for murder, Steve." Eddie whispered, voice pained. "I can't drag the kids down with me. I can't drag any of you down with me. I'm not worth that."

And oh, fuck that.

One hundred percent fuck that.

"You are absolutely worth it." Steve said fiercely, the hesitant, careful energy gone. Replaced entirely by the protective streak he was known for, the assuredness that had made him a good team captain and a better Alpha werewolf.

"And I hate to break it to you, but you're not even our first fugitive. So unless you can give me a solid excuse, Munson, then I expect you to accept."

That got him.

“You’re serious.” Eddie said, and it wasn’t a question. He stared full on into Steve’s eyes now, a challenge for a werewolf. This though, wasn’t one, and Steve’s wolf didn’t react negatively.

Knew instinctively, that he was being searched for any hint of a lie.

“When it comes to this? To you?” Steve found himself gravitating closer, honesty bleeding through every pore. “I will always be serious.”

A sniff, followed by a quiet huff of laughter as Eddie rubbed his eyes on his sleeve. "Shit, you sure know how to make a guy feel special."

"You are special.” Steve fired back. “That’s why I want you.”

It should have been we, as in we The Pack, want you, but Steve would examine where the “I” came from later.

“If--if you’re sure you won’t regret it…” Eddie trailed off, shyly holding out his hand as his face blushed scarlet.

Steve took it, offering a customary kiss to the hand with bare knuckles before tugging him closer. “I will never regret meeting you, Edward Munson.” Steve told him, eyes rolling gold as his wolf took a mental step forward.

Not to overtake him, but to combine with him, to put the two halves of his souls back together in a way that only the strongest could.

“You would honor us should you accept our offer to be Pack.” That was him and the wolf talking together, the formal way his wolf spoke taking over Steve’s more lax language.

“God you’re unreal.” Eddie choked out, a wobbly smile taking over his face. “Ask me again. Formally and shit.”

Steve grinned.

Formal he could do.

'Thank you asshole parents, for assuming I'd be an Alpha and making me take the etiquette classes.'

Left hand went on Eddie's shoulder, right hand brushed his hair back before going a supportive hold at his waist.

Eddie sucked in a breath, scent mixing both with awe and fear.

Steve's wolf didn't like the former, set about immediately to soothe.

'Mine.' It whispered in their head. Unusual, if only because it usually laid claim with a solid "Ours" but Steve wasn't going to question it.

Vecna had done a number on him, as a Pack leader. He'd earned his wolf being a bit odd for the day.

He opened the door in his h

"Edward Munson," Steve said, knowing his eyes were pulsating gently with wolf gold as he leaned forward to touch foreheads with Eddie.

"We ask you to aid this Pack as one of its members. Defend those bound to you, as they in turn will defend you, so long as you run with us?”

Eddie breathed in shallowly, once.

Twice.

"Yes." He whispered, as if speaking louder would make Steve take the offer back.

Steve pulled on the Pack's Magic, felt it build within him, an invisible pressure that flickered to life as yellow electricity dancing out of his eyes, down his teeth.

He moved to the point where Eddie's neck met his shoulder, fangs extending, long in his mouth.

“Through bite and blood, I claim you as Pack.”

Steve gently kissed the spot once, before sinking his fangs deep. Channeling the magic he’d built deep into Eddie’s skin, directing it instinctively down and around Eddie’s chest. Arks of energy engulfed them both, a vibrant red magic rising to meet Steve’s yellow.

Eddie arched into the contact, but his neck remained in Steve;s mouth, body language submissive.

Magic pulsed like a live wire, growing visible around them in Steve's signature yellow, cackling across his skin to Eddie's and back. The two colors danced together for a moment, weaving and combining, until a bond was forged to the Pack.

The bond finished and Eddie went limp, knees giving out underneath him.

Having been prepared for just that, Steve held him close, before lowing them both to the ground.

Slowly he removed his fangs, the pack magic sealing the wound it left behind, with one long, careful lick.

“I’ve got you." He murmured as Eddie shook violently for a moment, gasping like a drowning man seeking air as the bond settled. “I’ve got you.”

For now, and for as long as Eddie would have him and his Pack.

#annnd we're officially goin out of order LOL #its cool its just like the Duffer Bros Two Days Later time skip!#steve harrington #werewolf steve harrington #Hungry verse #eddie munson #werewolf eddie munson #werewolf AU #not a/b/o #more paranormal romance #steddie #steve x eddie #claiming #claiming through a bite #hurt/comfort #sorta #0o0 fanfics

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rinrin-the-shark-teen · 1 year

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I see your Robin and Steve are platonic soulmates, "we make each other better" and raise you Eddie and Nancy chaotic soulmates "we can make each other worse".

They start to get along while Eddie is recovering in the hospital. She is personally offended by the witch hunt for poor Eddie and starts planning. Her first real interaction with him is after everyone has left for the day, so she sneaks in and immediately goes "I know everyone here is being all love and positive, but i am here for revenge. You in?" Eddie immediately loves her.

They plan for months on how to get back at Jason and his band of clowns.

They really click because they share the same rebellious spirit that no one else seems to really understand. There's a deep anger for societal situations, expectations and morals that just crushes their soul but no one else gets it. They love their friends and they all feel like outcasts in some way, but it is not the same resentment they hurt from.

Nancy defends Eddie with her life, Eddie's own feral dog. Eddie is the same, when disgusting men say shit to her or expect her to submit to them only because she is a woman. He is having none of that and he will slam them to walls and letting Nancy give the last blow. Not physical but verbal. Woman will crush a man's soul. And if later in there are rumors of them having small dicks, then thats just a coincidence.

Her and Wayne love each other from the get go, when she comes in to the trailer and easily greets him "hi Mr. Munson". Wayne gives her a look and goes back to reading "Just Wayne is fine." Nancy doesn't even look at him as she makes her way to Eddie's room "Okay then. Hi Just Wayne" and closes the door. Wayne just smirks and shakes his head. He didnt think he would get another Eddie, yet here he is.

They become the other inseparable pair. They are always together, joined at the hip. They don't share a braincell, they are all Nancy's but Eddie borrows some from time to time. Only to cause chaos. They have full conversations with just a look and it annoys everyone around. So they do it even more.

The best part is when they slowly start noticing the other falling for their respective platonic duo doofus and mock each other for it. "Are you really in a place to mock me, when Steve is your literal ex?" "Yeah well I was a young and dumb" "I'm still young and dumb" "Young is debatable" "Hurtful and unnecessary. Not like Robin is any better" "She uncovered a secret russian code???" "She also is currently sporting a broken pinky and a nice black eye because he tripped on her own feet" "..." "That's what I thought" They love spending time together, just existing next to the other. Nancy studies and goes over homework and assignments. Eddie writes lyrics or just reads next to her. Turns out they both love the same kind of books and its a favorite pastime of them. Just going to the hill, laying on the grass and reading peacefully. No one else gets it, but they dont care. They get it and that's all they need. Eventually, once they all get their shit together, a new issue arises. Robin and Steve are very jealous of their best friends and the amount of time spent with them. This only spurs them on. Steve: Why is Nancy here? Eddie: She set this up? Steve: But you saw her yesterday! Eddie: So??? Steve: So its MY turn today! Eddie: Steve, Robin is literally sitting on your lap.. Steve: Don't change the subject! Nancy: No no, please explain that..

Long story short, let them be best friends. They deserve it.

#eddie munson #nancy wheeler #stranger things #steddie #ronance

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the-lark-ascending69 · 17 days

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I just got an idea for whump Ronance.

What if Robin and Nancy gets captured by Brenner?

Like, they end up becoming his new lab rats. Thry get tortured and abused just like El was.

What do you think?

(Also, what kind of powers do you think they would have respectively?)

Anon I am so sorry i wrote a long asf response to this and then it got deleted and I was so mad I didn't want to do it again but now I feel inspired and motivated to give it another try.

SO. Wonderful concept! I love it! Let me share my thoughts!!

So what I came up with is:

At age 15, they both get lost in the Upside Down. They only vaguely knew about the other's existance from school but when they found each other down there, they became inseparable. This is an AU in which Will never went missing. Anyway they're terrified and starving and exhausted but at least they have each other, and they hold hands almost the entire time because they both desperately need the comfort.

Eventually, they make it out on their own after finding a gate... and it's in the Hawkins Lab. They come out on the other end before the unbelieving eyes of dozens of scientists, who were convinced no one would survive a minute in there without the proper equipment. Yet these trembling, starving young girls covered in grit survived with only the clothes on their back for a week.

Brenner recognizes them immediately - Nancy and Robin, the two girls from the missing person posters circulating through town. Everyone already thinks they're dead. They made fake bodies of them, for Christ' sake, he's not letting this opportunity go, especially after the disappearance of his only remaining test subject, 011.

This will be a new experiment. A different one. They are given different numbers for ir - A01 for Nancy and A02 for Robin. They get that tattooed in their arms. The purpose of the experiment is to study the effects of short-term exposure to the Upside Down on humans of their height, s.ex, age, health status and weight. They call themselves doctors. They give them separate rooms and run a series of tests daily on them. They try to be subtle at first as to not scare them too much - they don't want another 011 - so they call them by their real names for a while. They ask questions about their lives before the Upside Down and reassure them this is meant to test radiation levels - a standard procedure, before they can return them to their parents.

They immediatelly call bullshit. Why can't they talk to their parents now? Why can't they see them through a glass, at least, or a camera, if radiation is what they're worried about? Why won't they tell them what that place was or why it led back to the Lab? Do their families know they're safe? What is going on? They ask so many questions about every procedure ran on them, resisting in more and more extreme ways until the scientists need to tie them down and drug them whenever they want to do anything.

Brenner notices similar brain activity in them to that of his old test subjects, and he suspects the Upside Down might have given them some kind of ability. He keeps them in the rainbow room, hoping each other's company will help them develop their powers, yet for a long time nothing comes. They can't move objects with their mind, or astral project, or open gates. Even despite everything they do to them. Despite every horrible procedure they perform on them. Drugs of all kinds, leaving them delirious and weak for days. Electrocompulsive therapy. Hypnosis. Pain tests. Sensory deprivation. Solitary confinement. Brenner wants to activate their powers in one way or another, desperate after losing subject 011.

(It's terrifying each time. Nancy is invaded by pure rage while Robin is paralyzed by fear. Whenever they take one for a procedure, the other waits impatiently for her return, fully concious of what they're doing to her - or so it seems. Nancy, at least, thinks she knows what they're doing to Robin. She thinks they do the same things they do to her - tie her to a chair, put an IV in her, maybe, or stick a needle into her neck. Brenner will do this while casually telling her she'll only feel a small pinch, before doing such a monstruosity to her that she'll be woken up by seizures at night. It takes Robin some time to tell Nancy the truth).

They seem completely useless for a long time, but that changes the moment they capture a russian agent.

He was a scientist, working from an unknown location beneath Hawkins, trying to get intel from the Lab when he was caught and tortured to extract information from him. Robin wasn't usually allowed to wander the halls alone, but someone left the door unlocked and she was curious, and soon she found herself in front of a closed door, hearing panting and ragged breathing after this man received the beating of his life. He was talking to himself - curses and meanderings about death and whether or not he'd see his family again. Robin, despite having never learned Russian, understood everything, and in a perfect accent she began to talk to him. She didn't know why - she didn't even realize they weren't speaking English. For a moment he thought he was being rescued, and he shared with her a lot of information.

Brenner caught her in the act and severaly punished her. Solitary confinement for one week. She would only see other people when they ran tests on her, and even then they wouldn't speak to her at all. He ended up not living up to his threat when, not two days after the event, he noticed her brain activity going wild. He has fascinated, and he asked her what had happened, if that russian spy gave her something like a drug. "Russian?" she asks, only then understanding what had happened.

They believe her powers are related to xenoglossy, the supernatural ability to know a language without having ever learned it. Something extremely useful in that specific historical context. She'd be an incredible spy, and oh, Brenner can't wait to experiment with this. They kill the spy after she tells them everything he told her.

They begin to give her a special treatment over Nancy - not exactly for the better. Brenner wants to understand this new ability, developed not in the womb like in other subjects but when subject A02 is a teenager, possibly caused by exposure to Upside Down radiation, though that's not confirmed. Maybe it had more to do with their experiments. He thinks he hit a dead end when it's revealed Robin already knew intermediate-to-advanced French, Spanish and Italian from before being captured - she'd be just a regular poltglot in that case, a prodigious one, right, but with nothing of interest for Brenner. But he quickly realizes this is not the case. Robin didn't know a word of Russian before, and he develops a hipothesis he'll spend the following year testing. He tries her ability with different languages, escaling on rarity, complexity and distance from English. From reading a single short text, Robin becomes profient in Finnish - a non-indoeuropean language Brenner doubts she's ever had any contact with. Proficient, but not fluent. It seems like she can very easily extract a language's grammar from a short sample text, applying it to terms she's familiar with, but she can't magically "guess" vocabulary of grammatical rules not present in the material she was given. For example, by reading a text in which all 15-16 grammatical cases of Finnish are present, she will be able to apply them to any noun in nominative case she knows, but she can't do it with nouns she doesn't know, and she can't use grammatical cases not present in the sample text given to her. She also can't guess spelling or pronunciation without both text and audio samples, and she can't speak in accents she hasn't heard (though she can easily switch accents in a way native speakers of the language can't, a skill that is curiously not translated (lol) into her native English). She learns faster with audio than with text, but even faster with a real-time conversation. Brenner brings a colleague who is fluent in Japanese to test her and he's amazed by how quick her progress is. His hipothesis, seemingly now proven, was that hers was an entirely mental skill, not a supernatural one, since she doesn't magically have access to languages she never had any contact with. This would make her ability not real xenoglossy.

A few more fun facts about her "power":

Her pre-existing skill with Spanish, French and Italian didn't improve until she was exposed to these languages again after being captured. She becomes incredibly skilled at solving puzzles and cracking codes. Brenner believes her power developed thanks to her intensive studies in languages through her childhood. Her brain activity is similar to that of non-native speakers of a language during the few first minutes of having contact with a new language, but in less than an hour, it will be the same as with native speakers. She's confused by some reconstructed languages, but not others (Proto-Indoeuropean was easy for her to learn, Proto-Uralic took her some time before learning more finno-ugric languages than just Finnish. If this were happening in the 2000s, when the Dené-Caucasian theory was already formalized, then Proto-Dené-Caucasian would have sounded like absolute gibberish to her).Some of Brenner's colleages hipothesize that her knowledge of living languages help inform her of the grammar and syntax of proto-languages in an extremely accurate way, to the point she subconciously knows when a reconstruction is wrong. This would make her an amazing paleolinguist. Brenner is less interested in the reconstruction of ancient turkic languages in Siberia and more interested her use as a spy and code-breaker - though it wouldn't have hurt him to take a second look at the idea of turkic languages, because that Russian agent, he was from a region of Russia called Tartary, and he spoke another language aside from Russian, the Tartar language, though he never got to speak it in Robin's presence. Brenner and his colleagues, not familiar with the vast diversity of languages on Earth, spend a long time working with an incorrect hypothesis because they couldn't notice Robin speaking Tartar to herself as a distinct language from all the others they were teaching her. A year and a a half passes before someone spent enough time listening to her to notice the difference. It's a discovery that shatters completely Brenner's first hypothesis on the absence of a supernatural element in Robin's ablity, and he's once again fascinated when he discovers it. His new hypothesis: Robin's power grants her access to a person's mind through speaking to them in a strange, confusing way, and he can't wait to destroy her, pick her brain apart and figure out how it works even if he kills her in the process.

In fact, he does. Literally. He does it over and over and over again, and Nancy has to watch it happen time and time again.

Because here's the thing: Robin wasn't the only one to develop powers, and in fact, she wasn't even the first one.

If you've heard of the videogame Life is Strange, anon, then you'll understand Nancy's power here: she can rewind time. Her power is pretty much the same as Max's in LiS - she can rewind time up to a certain point, though it causes a great mental strain, and eventually, she will discover she can time travel to specific points in time through photographs she's present in, as her younger self.

She discovers her powers the first time Robin is killed.

Misbehavior got her punished - solitary confinement after a long testing session. She had an overdose in her cell, and no one noticed in time. Nancy barely remembers what happened then, other than the horror she felt, before the events of the day flashed backwards before her eyes and she was brought back to Robin - warm, alive, breathing - in the rainbow room.

She begged her to do as they said, to behave, to not fight back. Robin is confused but Nancy is in tears and she agrees to do as she says.

This time, when she has an overdose, they treat her on time. She was in a comma for a week, but soon she was back on her feet and back in Nancy's arms.

It keeps happening - over and over again. The time she swallowed her own tongue during a seizure because Nancy didn't hold her right, and she had to try over four times (and watch her choke and die four times) before she got it right. The time she didn't die - but she lost her ability to speak after hours of electroculpulsive therapy, and she had her fake an illness so they would submit her to less aggressive procedures. It happened again when, after a similar trial, she forgot her own parents and thought the scientists were her parents. But she mostly just died. Over, and over, and over again. Mostly from overdose or brain damage during seizures, but one time, she was purposely asphixiated during a test. To this point Nancy still isn't sure what was it that they wanted to test with that. She suspects it was just torture for the sake of torture. To break her, somehow.

Nancy is terrified of long-term effects of all of this on Robin's health. She's scared the damage will cross the point of no return too early, to a point she can't go back to, a point in which she can't stop it. She can hold Robin's head during a seizure but she can't stop the seizures, and the lasting damage they leave.

Robin is aware of Nancy's powers. Nancy didn't even have to prove them to her - she believed her immediately whe she told her, and she trusts her judgment completely. If Nancy tells her it's better to do X, you can bet Robin will be doing X. Robin doesn't tell Nancy about her newfound ability immediately - she doesn't want her to worry about something she can do nothing about. But she does share it with her, after some time. She felt the need to explain to Nancy why the sudden interest on her. Nancy worries about her Robin so much, so so much, because she's just become Brenner's favorite new toy, and he'll do anything and everything to exploit her. She's in much more danger than Nancy is, and Nancy wishes she could take her place, make herself into Brenner's toy, draw attention away from Robin, but they both know the best they can do for their safety is to keep Nancy's invisible power secret. Nancy hates herself for not being able to take Robin's pain for her.

They escape one day. It's a complicated plan including short-distance time travel, manipulating russian spies through a stolen radio, several forms of treason and going out the same way they came in - through the portal. Nancy does her best to keep them safe with her power as they search for the other gate, the one they first crossed three years ago. And then, they're out. They're found unconcious on the side of the road.

They wake up a few days later in the hospital, surrounded by their families. Nancy's brother, Mike, has a new friend - a quiet girl with long brown hair and a 011 tattoed on her wrist, and she knows she needs to speak to her desperately, but she's exhausted, so for the time being, she'll sleep for some time, feeling almost at peace now, knowing Robin is safe and in the good hands of doctors.

#ronance #whump #tw torture #tw drugs #tw electrocution #uuuh that's it i guess #this took me forever to write but i'm satisfied!

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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For One Night Only | Part 3

“Steve?!”

“Nance!” The reunion was abrupt, two bodies colliding in the middle of the room amidst makeup artists and stylists in a tight hug that wound up with Steve being lifted off of the floor by little miss badass herself, Nancy Wheeler. “Jeez! Hitting the gym much?” He laughed as she set his whole 5’10 stocky mass back down on the carpet.

“Only on the weekends, running around after these idiots is great cardio, keeps me in tip top shape, what’re you doing here?”

“Munson needed a date to this fancy award thing, I got the invite, you know me, love being pampered and showered with attention. I thought you and Barb were in Cali with the Byers?” Even though she and Jonathan weren't dating anymore, both realising they found their best friends way more compatible with themselves than each other, they still had plenty of love for each other, enough to spend a week just getting baked on the beach together once every few months.

“That’s next month after the events season is up, still running ragged this month. These lot have got radio shows tomorrow afternoon and evening, and they’re invited to a premier next weekend for something that used one of their songs in the soundtrack, it’s… hectic. God it’s been…what—”

“Few years since face to face" they'd kept up the catch up phone calls though, their "babies first love" hadn't worked out but they made excellent friends. "You look good Nance…”

“I feel good… less stressed. Weirdly enough.” She didn’t have to deal with asshole bosses and sexism in the workplace, she just had to deal with nerds, and the nerds respected her. “Did Eddie tell you about the whole journalism thing?”

“That you finally told them to go suck several severely unwashed dicks? Not in those exact words but I’m proud of you Nance, I know it’s what you wanted to do but—”

“Sometimes we don’t know what we want until we’ve tried it and it sucks. Barb walked out with me flipping the whole office off, it was glorious.” She finished as he nodded, smiling brightly at the knowledge that Barb had stuck by her in that too, because of course she had, when had Barb ever not stuck by her? “So I see this whole thing is still working out nicely for you” She motioned to the entirety of him as he flourished his hands in a tadah motion. “You look good, it’s a good look on you, this job.” He got paid handsomely for doing something he genuinely enjoyed, he dressed well, he smelled good, he looked like he was worth a lot of money.

“Not to parrot you but, god Nance I feel good too, I’ve been seeing this funny old woman lately, she’s hilarious and her cookie recipe is to die for, if you ever get a moment, you should come with me one day she’ll talk your ear off about the most ridiculous shit.” He adored Gladys, she deserved the world, she was a welcome switch up to the occasional sexual hire he’d get, some people needed a damn good release, others needed to just talk to someone who’d listen.

He enjoyed both kinds of people.

“Okay so is someone going to explain what the hell Steve Harrington is doing in our room?” Gareth finally decided to break the baffled silence that’d fallen over the rest of the Corroded Coffin members as Nancy and Steve caught up like little old ladies meeting for a senior special at the local cafe.

“He’s my date!” Eddie chirped, tone dripping in smug with a grin to match. He’d parked his rear back into his own chair, allowing the stylists they hired to fuss a little more over his hair.

“No really.” Gareth deadpanned “What’s Steve Harrington doing in our room?”

“I just told you!” Eddie squawked indignantly, almost offended at how little Gareth believed in him. “I hired him, yes, but he’s still my date.”

Steve smiled and stepped forward in his defence though, “No he’s right… I am his date for the evening, and I really hope I can start fresh with you guys too, I know I wasn’t the best person in Hawkins, I don’t remember much of it, my memory isn’t great, but Eddie tells me I let some shit happen that I definitely should have put a stop to—” Tommy pushing Jeff into a locker, for example “so, i’m sorry for everything, I am, truly, I really hope you can forgive me.” The last thing he wanted was a tense night around the band.

He wanted to get along with them, not just for the sake of his job, but also because he actually was hitting it off with Eddie, he liked Eddie, Eddie was sweet, and prettier than he remembered any boy in Hawkins ever being.

That being said he really didn’t remember much.

“Okay so. It looks like Steve Harrington, it has Steve Harrington’s voice, and yet it says magical things that couldn’t possibly come from Steve Harringt-ow!” Eddie, thankfully the closest sat next to him, thumped Jeff in the arm “what the hell man?”

“We’re not dumb kids anymore, dude. Everyone’s grown here. Let’s keep the past where it belongs, yeah?”

“Would you say the same shit about Hargrove too?” Now Steve did remember Billy Hargrove, hard to forget a man like Hargrove, giant douchebag, hadn’t thought about him in years though, had no idea where he ended up and didn’t care to think about it. Just knew Nancy’s brother Mike was friends with the guys sister, Max.

Steve actually found himself frowning deeply at the idea that they associated the memory of high school him with Hargrove of all people.

“Ew no, but Steve never actually physically did anything to you, he just kinda… watched it happen, and he only did that once, sure it was still shitty but it ain’t the same and you know it ain’t the same.”

“Listen… I don’t expect forgiveness after a single apology out of nowhere, I didn’t reach out and I don’t even remember what happened, it’s all by sheer coincidence that I’m even here with the opportunity to apologise, but I do have a job to do here, and I intend to do it so I’d really appreciate it if we could at least put that past behind us for tonight, and if you want to hold a grudge, just save it for after the cameras finish rolling, okay? Not for my sake, but for your own. Do you really want the press to spin some bullshit Yoko story about how your front man is spending time with a guy you all hate? How it’s pulling you apart?”

The big one was the first to speak after that, Steve couldn’t remember his name either, but he knew it began with Fr… His brain supplied ‘Freak’ but that probably wasn’t it. “You know about Yoko?”

“I don’t live under a rock.”

“Nah just in a fancy penthouse apartment with a bitchy little Pomeranian and a walkin closet bigger than… than… uh— okay I was gonna say my apartment but I’m rich now so—” Eddie sniggered as Jeff floundered trying to be witty.

“First of all, I have a cat, her name is Mocha and she’s a queen” a severely pampered colourpoint ragdoll currently being fawned over by her usual cat sitters Robin and Vickie “and second this job requires a walk in closet bigger than some houses, do you think a rich client wants to see the same outfit twice? Man I have a whole section dedicated solely to lingerie.” Eddie nearly choked on his own saliva.

Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie— shit he was still talking.

“Now, are we going to get our stories straight, or are we going to continue wasting time discussing my adolescent character flaws?”

Gareth finally piped up “Man, do you really have a whole closet section dedicated to lingerie?” And Steve just sighed.

#For One Night Only #PirateWrites #ficlet #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Corroded Coffin #yes. yes he does have a whole closet section dedicated to that #BARB LIVES

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tipsyleaf · 3 months

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Hatred | '24 Alphabet Challenge

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Prom night is supposed to be the greatest night of your teenage life... Right?

Words: 1.9k

Content Warning: Stancy mention, Jancy mention, past feelings mention, childhood friends, and unrequited love (Steve)

Prom night, supposedly one of the greatest nights of teenagers' lives. That's a sentiment Steve definitely wouldn't agree with, hanging out outside his own senior prom. He didn't even know why he bothered coming, knowing full well he'd see them together. Hand in hand, arm in arm, dancing to every cheesy slow song the DJ put on. As much as Steve tried to be supportive or ignore it...

He just wasn't over his ex-girlfriend yet.

But that didn't stop him from trying to be the bigger man in the situation. That's what Steve grew into being, the bigger person. No more being a total asshole for the sake of his own feelings. That's something Junior year Steve would do.

"Well, don't you just look so lively tonight." His trance breaks as he's approached by you, coming from the double doors of the Gym hallway not too far away.

"I'm not in the mood tonight."

Steve sounded both fed up and disgusted with your antics already. Even if this was just the first thing you said anything to him all day.

You lean against the cold brick gym wall. Feeling the rough bumps of the hard surface on your back and through your dress.

"Rough night, champ?" Steve sighs, rubbing his eyes, raw from a few minutes of being emotional.

"You don't know the half of it." Glancing over, he sees you for the first time. Admiring the floor length red dress, you always looked good in red. You looked good in everything, at least in his mind.

"Look at you, all dressed up and presentable for once." You smirk at his joke, making him chuckle and smile.

"I always look presentable thank you prick." Smirking to yourself before looking back at him.

"You look good in a tuxedo... Y'know, for you."

"Thanks for the backhanded compliment. Anything good from you is a rarity." You laugh, making him smile even wider. His eyes shift around the parking lot, watching cars pull in, and other kids come to join the party going on inside.

"What're you even doing out here by yourself? I thought you'd be in there with like 9 different girls trying to dance with you at once." He scoffs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"You know, too many options beating down my door. Couldn't disappoint them all."

"Came stag too, huh?" He just nods in response, not saying anything as you both look up into the inky night sky. The only sound to fill the cold April night air was the crickets chirping and distant chatting of other students.

"Are you holding up okay? I saw them dancing inside and... I know the breakup was hard for you, so I just thought I'd check up on you..."

Steve let out a rough sigh, feeling like a complete idiot pining for his ex-girlfriend still. Being broken up for almost 5 months now. He couldn't let her go in his head, they were each other's first loves. At least she was to him.

All of that came crashing to a halt after everything back in November.

"If I'm being honest, no I'm not holding up okay."

"I know I'm not a therapist or anything..." You shrug, glancing back at him as you nervously chew on your thumbnail.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. I've been talking to Dustin for months about it and no matter how much I try I can't get past it. Like Nancy's cast some kind of spell to stick with me or something." He sighs, looking at the asphalt as he swallows harshly.

"Now we can hardly make eye contact for more than 3 seconds before she turns away... God, she must hate me."

"Steve, she doesn't hate you. She's probably just feeling awkward about everything and trying to respect her new relationship by not hanging around her ex-boyfriend. They're just trying to find their footing as a couple." You reassure him, leaning over to give him a squeeze on his shoulder. Thinking about what he said, you shake your head, grinning at the thought of Dustin.

"And really Steve? Dustin. He's like 14 and barely knows how to handle having a crush yet. He's never even had a girlfriend yet. I know he's smart for his age, but c'mon."

"I know! He's just a great listener. He knows a lot for his age, it's actually kinda scary." You roll your eyes looking at the ground, starting to laugh to yourself.

"What?" His full attention is on you now, a small smile pulling at his lips as he watches you start to laugh harder.

"Nothing I just..." You cover your mouth, snickering again.

"I just never pictured myself giving you of all people a pep talk... You're you for crying out loud. Steven "The Hair" Harrington." You grin, bumping his arm with your elbow.

"King Steve... You're literally the most popular guy in the entire school, and I'm... Me." He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's the fun thing. We're so different, so we can see our point of view while still seeing each other's... Plus, it's nice not having someone around trying to kiss my ass constantly."

"Yeah, I'll just kick your ass instead." You smirk, pressing off the wall, your heels click as you step in front of him.

"Look, I know it hurts now, but it'll pass eventually... And if I can be honest with you... You could do so much better than Nancy frickin' Wheeler."

Steve could feel his eyebrows shooting up in amusement as you got in front of him. For some odd reason, just standing there in your presence felt somewhat calming suddenly.

"Oh yeah? Who'd you have in mind then?"

"I don't know," you think for a second and shrug, "Farrah Fawcett? I think she'd think you were cute. Celebrity or not?"

"Farrah Fawcett? You think Farrah Fawcett, one of the most famous women alive, would want me?"

"Yeah! You're a hot guy, why wouldn't she?!" It's his turn to laugh now, shaking his head as he bites his lip.

"Where the hell would I even meet her?"

"I don't know! I thought we were talking hypothetically." Steve nodded, his face turning serious again.

"It's just... It's hard looking past Nancy, y'know. She was the first girl I ever loved."

"I'm aware, Steve. It's just not always the best thing to dwell on. I'm talking from experience." You bite the inside of your cheek and sigh. Nervous to be this honest, but if it helps get the point across, then so be it.

"Can I be honest with you about something?"

Steve looks at you, seeing how nervous you look to talk. His lips part slightly as he nods.

"Of course."

"I used to have a massive crush on Jonathan ages ago and when he started showing an interest in Nancy it killed me... But he's my friend, so I encouraged him. It killed me but I got over it."

You turn your head, looking up at the sky again, taking in the shining stars above the two of you. Feeling embarrassed about laying everything out there for someone you've barely gotten to know again.

"Took a while but time heals most wounds. So, just know I'm here for you because I know what it feels like... Kind of."

Steve felt your pain as you talked about how you couldn't be with Jonathan, and how that's basically how he felt about Nancy in all honesty.

Silence fell over the two of you as you both looked out to the sky, admiring the stars again. Steve looks over at you, feeling somewhat peaceful. Yet still wanting to ask so many questions.

"How'd you do it? Stay strong like that. I can barely be in a room with her right now."

"I talked to my family. That helped a lot... But I know you aren't the closest to your parents, so that's why I asked if you wanted to talk about it with me." You smile softly, lips turning up as you half shrugged at his question.

"I know we weren't always on the best of terms, but you're my friend and... I care about you."

"We're friends again?" His eyes seemed to light up almost, just like he was a little kid again. Over the past year he's felt like you two were bonding. But never wanted to ask out of fear.

Tension fills the air between you two. It's been this way since you two started becoming friends again. Going through hell together alongside the couple, Steve was trying to avoid like the plague.

"Well you know, when you nearly die fighting inner dimensional monsters together you tend to start caring about their well-being again... So, in a way, I guess we have to thank them for something at least."

Steve smirks before shaking his head.

"Part of me likes to think we'd be friends again someday."

"Who knows." You add, silence falling between you again. It's not long before Steve shifts, pushing himself off the wall and looking at you.

"So let’s say, hypothetically, that I was stuck at this stupid prom without a date and I had no one else to ask but you...”

"Mmm. Mmhm, hypothetically." You nod along, fighting back the urge to smirk.

"Go on."

Steve looked away for a second, collecting his thoughts. He takes a deep breath, turning back to you.

"And, hypothetically, I might need to spend our senior prom dancing, like my life depends on it, because it's possibly the last fun night before the rest of our lives."

"I'm starting to think you don't know what the word hypothetically means."

"Shush," he cuts you off, making you giggle before he continues, "now, hypothetically, would you be interested in dancing with me?"

You nod, looking like you were really thinking about it. As if you didn't know your answer already.

"Well, hypothetically," you play along, making sure to hold eye contact, "I might be inclined to say yes... If it wasn't a hypothetical, of course."

You rub your hand over your mouth, smirking behind it. He holds eye contact, faking a scoff as he stares.

"You're gonna make me ask?" You nod, tongue going to his cheek as he also nods.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"I wouldn't be saying that to a girl you're about to ask to prom Steve." He chuckles, nodding. You got him there.

His expression shifts to a goofy grin as he sighs with a slight relief.

"You think you can survive the night without making fun of me?" He smirks, holding his hand out for you to grab, you smile back at him taking it gently. Giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"I don't know about the whole night, but I can sure try my best." Rolling his eyes, he pulls you into his side, lacing his arm around your waist.

You look up at him, your gaze meeting again. Taking in his deep brown eyes and soft smile brings... Old feelings from years ago bubble back up.

Your mouth opens to say something, anything at all. But the words won't come out as your heartbeat picks up speed.

That old crush you had on your old friend never really went away over all these years.

Or at least that's what you think at the moment.

#🌿 ivy writes #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things x you

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alleiwentcrazy · 1 year

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“Wow, man, that’s nasty. You should get that checked.”

Someone’s standing in the doorway, Steve’s sane enough to notice that. This someone is wearing the infamous hospital gown, is hooked to an IV, and has Nancy’s hair. Which is exceptionally weird, because Steve has always believed that no one could achieve that kind of volume. Especially while living in a hospital.

This someone is also, not unlike Steve, wrapped in several layers of dressings to shelter their burns from everything that’s bad in this world: infection, stares, more pain.

(Steve isn’t so certain about the last one, though. He sure is in a lot of pain at the moment.)

So someone is standing in the doorway, he’s positive. This someone is staring at him, their gaze curious and open, and it’s not a nurse, and it’s not a doctor. Partly that’s why Steve doesn’t believe that this person is even real at first. His visitors must wear gowns and gloves—something about it being too early to risk an infection. So despite the hair, it is not Nancy.

It’s a someone. Maybe. Probably. Steve doesn’t know—his eyes are barely open and he’s too high on painkillers to differentiate between dreams and reality. When the sweet numbness overwhelms him again, he has half a mind to say: Maybe it’s an angel, standing in my doorway.

***

As Steve’s recovery progresses (and the amount of painkillers he’s being pumped with decreases), he gets more and more aware of reality.

For starters, he learns that he’s not living some sort of fever dream. He was—is—a firefighter, who got pretty badly burned, and his sides, some parts of his belly, back and arms need very special and very expensive treatment. Hence the hospital bed, the gown, the dressings, meds, pain, et cetera. This burn center is going to be his home for the next few weeks, and Steve’s okay with that. It means that he got to save a life, even if his own was put at risk in the process.

He can live with that, definitely. With the scars and the pain, no problem. What’s killing him now is his own curiosity.

He hasn’t been seeing angels, turns out. He’s been seeing fellow patients – one patient in particular. That someone who hovered over the threshold when he first started his recovery. Steve’s been seeing him almost every day, taking slow steps across the hallway, dragging his IV behind him, the patchwork of dressings and scarring tissue changing frequently.

Without fail, each time this man passes Steve’s room, his steps slow down. Sometimes, he sends Steve a wink. On better days, Steve supposes, when the scarring on his cheek doesn’t bother him that much, he gives a flash of a smile. Even on the worst days, when walking serves as torture, he acknowledges Steve with a nod, like they know and respect each other.

Everything about him is a mystery to Steve, though. He, too, returns a small wave or a nod or anything, but he still half-believes he’s seeing things that aren’t there, so when this man with long, wavy hair and ridiculously brown eyes passes his room again, he can’t hold it back any longer.

“Beth, who’s that?” he asks. Beth, his nurse slash new hospital friend, looks over her shoulder. When she finally figures out what he means, she smiles.

“Isn’t that your angel?”

He looks at her completely mortified.

“Please, tell me you’ve just made that up.”

Beth laughs and adjusts the position of his bed. “Sorry, love. I’m afraid that everyone heard your delirious tirades about long-haired angels taking you to heaven.”

With how heavily her “everyone” implies everyone, he doesn't even have it in him to groan. He shouldn’t have listened to Robin when she told him that his high is one of the best things in the world.

***

“How come you never scream?”

Steve’s eyes have been shut tight for the whole time his doctor was poking and prodding around his wounds, but now they’re wide open and he, too, wants to ask himself that. How come he never screams? It’s the most pain he’s ever felt in his entire life. It’s ripping him apart, it’s eating him alive, it’s killing him, but he never screams.

He just keeps his eyes closed, waiting for it to be over. Thinking about Robin and his kids, about how he has to stay strong and never show fear because it’s his job to keep them safe and away from the pain even if—or maybe especially if—it comes with taking the pain on himself, bearing it, being torn by it. He keeps his eyes closed and doesn’t think about his failures or the times he was too late to save them; he keeps them shut because he knows that there are going to be more times when he’ll have to keep his eyes open to spot the danger ahead.

But his eyes are open now, open and staring at the man standing in his doorway, backlit and glowing like some non-human entity, asking him such a simple thing that will, without a doubt, make Steve circle down the drain when he’s alone again.

Steve doesn’t dare open his mouth. He’d scream if he tried, and he cannot afford to do that.

“Mr. Munson, you really shouldn’t be here right now.”

Steve shuts his eyes back again.

***

Steve’s recovery is slow, slower than anticipated. When he first got here, his doctors said he’d be able to walk soon-ish, but it’s way past “soon-ish” now and he’s still tied to his bed. It still hurts like hell, he’s still woozy from the painkillers, even though the strongest stuff is out of the question, he’s made sure of that. He’d rather feel everything than risk another embarrassing situation. Maybe it’s stupid, but that’s how it is.

Mainly, Steve just feels lonely. He’s allowed to have visitors, but they can’t stay with him as long as he’d like them to—mostly because they have lives outside of this hospital while Steve’s entire life is in this hospital. He’s lonely, he’s bored, and he’s envious out of his mind, because the man from his doorway gets his walks every day and Steve dreams of nothing but being able to move a little.

Each time Munson walks past his room, he stares. He can’t help it. He doesn’t have a mirror in here, but it’s painstakingly clear to him that he’s glaring daggers at a man that hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s just so jealous—his body aches, but it’s a different ache; it’s an ache of being still for too long. An ache of being out of the game. Steve hates being out of the game. It makes him come up with the worst possible scenarios—but he has to thank both his burns and his head trauma for the dizziness, weakness and total lack of coordination that keeps him from starting physio.

With each passing day, his stares get more daunting, but the man doesn’t stop sending him smiles and nods. He knows it’s irrational and unfair, taking out his own fears and anger on someone who can’t do anything about his situation, who’s in an equally shitty situation, actually, but he’s still working on not being mean without a reason. And it seems so harmless, because this stranger never stops smiling at him. No matter how much Steve tries, he can’t seem to convey his feelings, because Munson never stops.

It irritates him even more, enrages him to a point. When Munson smiles at him one day, Steve can’t take it anymore.

“Are you always this chirpy?” he asks, his voice dripping of malice. It disgusts him a little, makes him want to retreat—retreat far away from the version of himself that he dropped years ago, although it’s haunting him to this day. He wants to retreat, but he doesn’t. He pouts instead.

Munson stops in his tracks, raises one eyebrow. He looks amused, and it pisses Steve off.

“Your life must be quite miserable if walking around a hospital with unhealed wounds is your definition of chirpy,” Munson says. It’s supposed to sting, probably, but his smile is still there, despite his injured cheek. Steve’s pout deepens. Munson looks like a cat who got the cream. “Oof, soft spot. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he coos, looking like he’d like to lean against the doorframe, but his injured arm won’t let him. “We can be miserable—oh, sorry. Chirpy, we can be chirpy together.”

Steve doesn’t respond, he doesn’t know how. He feels warm all over. It’s not something he likes. He’d cross his arms over his chest if he could.

Munson stays silent for a moment, a smirk still playing on his lips. The quiet moment stretches out until he takes a big breath and takes a look around. “I’m Eddie, by the way. And I’m very, very late for my usual ‘walk as much as you can but be reasonable, Mr. Munson’ appointment, so I have to get going. But, uh,” he looks at Steve like he’s not sure of something for the first time in his life, even though he’s still playing along. “I could come around tomorrow, Mr…?”

“Steve,” comes the reply. Munson—Eddie smiles, again.

“Alright then, Mr. Steve. Get ready to be the chirpiest you’ve ever been.”

***

The worst thing is, it works. Steve does get chirpier.

It starts out small. Eddie just stops in front of the threshold, spits out the most random, obnoxious and seemingly nonsensical (although Steve suspects they’re all true) fact, like Did you know that cows have four stomachs? or Did you know that geckos can’t blink and they have to lick their own eyeballs to keep them from drying out? or something of sorts, and then he leaves while Steve lies in his bed, suspecting that he’s having hallucinations and fully questioning his sanity. Again.

It gets progressively worse, it does. It gets weirder. At first, Steve isn’t sure what to think of it. Eddie’s strange. He’s also a nerd. He talks in codes, his sentences are long and Steve finds it hard to follow his logic altogether from time to time. But he also makes Steve snort, sometimes even laugh—truly laugh, laugh from his belly. Eddie’s weird, but he’s Dustin-weird, Steve decides. Good-weird. Familiar-weird. Safe-weird.

He makes him feel less lonely. Steve invites him to sit beside his bed after a few days, so now Eddie comes, spits out his random nerdy facts, and they sit and talk around it until the nurses kick Eddie out for not doing his laps.

Steve’s less lonely. He’s so much less lonely he even starts missing Eddie when they’re not together—only a little, but he does. (He knows it’s dangerous. But what’s the harm in that if they’re both stuck here anyway? What’s the harm in a little hospital vulnerability?) It’s quite difficult not to miss Eddie, to be honest. Eddie makes it difficult—he listens when Steve talks, he never hesitates before explaining something when Steve doesn’t get it immediately, he’s patient, but at the same time, he talks so much. The room fills with intricate, engrossing stories and anecdotes whenever he opens his mouth.

The only moments when Steve feels even less less lonely than when he’s with Eddie is when he’s with Robin, and Robin’s the most important person in Steve’s life.

“Contraband,” Eddie says, sitting down on the edge of Steve’s bed one day. He puts something on Steve’s thing – cherry jello and a plastic spoon. His favorite. “Don’t rat me out.”

He smiles at Steve. His cheek is practically healed now; the scar isn’t as big as Steve imagined it from afar, but it sure as hell must have been a menace to get it more or less healed. That’s the only thing they don’t talk about. How they got here, how they got their scars. They support each other through it, but they never dwell.

At least Eddie doesn’t. Steve’s sure everyone knows his story – people love when firefighters let themselves get burned to a crisp while trying to save somebody else, after all, and gossip spreads around the hospital with the speed of plague.

“And get my best dealer behind bars?” Steve asks and scrapes a spoonful of jello from the cup. “They never have cherry. You’re the only one that seems to know where they store it.”

Eddie grins devilishly and leans a bit further. “Do you want to know a secret?” he asks and Steve mumbles something unintelligible in response. “I used to deal,” Eddie says. Steve’s not sure if he does it on purpose or not, but he starts playing with the hem of Steve’s sock, his fingers barely brushing the skin on Steve’s calf. It tingles, but he doesn’t mind.

Steve’s brows go up. “Is that how you got here?” he risks, not really knowing why. He’s not that curious—but it’s the scar on Eddie’s face that’s been haunting him for ages now. So different from his own forming scars, yet, in principle, the same.

Eddie’s face gets softer. Steve can’t recognize the expression properly, it’s different from Eddie’s usual, mischievous smirk. It’s quiet for the longest time, so quiet Steve thinks he’s going to choke on his jello from build-up pressure.

“I’m gay,” Eddie says, suddenly, his voice totally cool and leveled while Steve—

“I’m bi,” he blurts out in response, practically out of breath. To his absolute horror, Eddie chuckles.

“Well, that’s useful,” he says around his crooked smile, “but that’s not what I meant.”

When he points at his face, everything clicks. Steve tries to control his face, but the realization is too sudden.

“What?” he asks before he can think better of it.

Eddie shrugs. His expression is unreadable, but he isn't looking at Steve anymore, his eyes fixed on his own fingers that are still playing with Steve’s sock.

“My band has this one place for gigs that we all don’t really like, but they actually pay us some money. I’ve always thought that it’s enough – this and my arrogance, anyway – enough to scrape by. I’m not too cagey about being gay, and I wanted to spite them, I guess, show them that they can’t win,” he looks up. He looks sad, almost defeated, as much as Steve hates it. “They got their way, as you can see. Tried to pour something on me when I was leaving the stage, but they fucked up, both in terms of chemistry and their aim. It didn’t get me as bad as it could have, so I guess I won anyway.”

Eddie smiles again, but it reaches nowhere near his eyes. He looks so sad, so hurt, and Steve’s so, so angry. It’s easy for him to turn to anger, it’s easy and it’s freeing and he suddenly feels bigger and stronger than he really is, because he wants to destroy something, anything—but he’s not a fighter. He’s a protector. He’s not Nancy; he’s Steve. No matter how hopeless, how betrayed he feels, he doesn’t want to hurt. He wants to heal and save.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, afraid it’s too dumb and too obvious.

“I know,” Eddie replies impassively, looking at him from underneath his too long bangs.

“You said you wanted to spite them. But it doesn’t matter, it’s not your fault,” he drills. Eddie opens his mouth again, but before he gets to say anything, Steve squeezes his knee and looks at him intently. “It’s not,” he insists. “Whatever you said or did, it never mattered. They would have done it even if you’d praised them, you were never the problem.”

Eddie scoffs, but it’s not malicious. His eyes are a little bit glassy. “So you’re saying I’m perfect?”

For some reason, Steve doesn’t have a problem with reading that. Please, let’s not talk about it now. Then foreign fingers graze his own, and he gets it. Thank you, though.

Steve sighs, something tugging at the corners of his lips. The change of topic makes this both heavier and lighter at the same time. He flicks his spoon at Eddie and aims perfectly between his eyebrows.

“Bring me more jello tomorrow and maybe I’ll grace you with saying that out loud.”

“So you’ve thought—”

“Shut up, Eddie.”

Their fingers intertwine in the silence that follows. They look at each other like they can see each other and suddenly, Steve feels the weight of this moment. They’re not strangers anymore—maybe they have never been strangers. Maybe this was meant to happen from the very beginning. He most probably wasn’t seeing angels a few weeks back, but whatever it was that he saw hovering over his threshold, it’s just entered his house and is, hopefully, planning to stay for longer.

#tw for homophobia mention towards the end!!#pining #ok no guys. i do not know what this is lol #matching scars #it's their trope.... in every universe #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #st4 #steddie fic #steve x eddie #firefighter steve #modern au #hospital au #god how is that a thing #listen. i did the research but i've also watched too many episodes of grey's anatomy for my own good so this is 100% not accurate #let me live out the delusions #i've been scribbling down bits and pieces of this one for so long it just needs to see the light of day

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