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imfinereallyy · 8 months

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Passengers

It took Robin three years to get her license. Which all things considered, the twice apocalyptic experiences, and, ya know, being poor, wasn’t too bad in her opinion.

20 was as good as any age to get behind the wheel of a vehicle.

Okay, if she was honest with herself, really honest, maybe her calculations were off. It wasn’t three years exactly. She could have gotten her license at 16; hell, she could have gotten her permit at 15. So it quite honestly had taken four, five years max to get her license.

But the first two years didn’t count to Robin.

She didn’t even give a thought to driving until she was 17, and Steve was driving her every day without question. She hadn’t thought about it until Steve threw his keys at her, telling her to drive, that Robin realized he was driving her every day because he wanted to, not because she was a license-less loser.

It cracked Robin open when she finally had time to think about it. After all the blood, and gore, and almost losing Steve several times, it hit her that this dingus really wanted her by his side.

So, Steve was really to blame if she ever got into a car accident. Sure, he didn’t push her to get behind the metal contraption, but Robin wanted to pay him back somehow, for all the rides and love over the years.

That was how now, Robin was seething in regret as she drove the rest of the way home, in the dark, from their road trip.

See, when Robin had pictured them doing things like this, it had just been the two of them. Steve in the passenger seat, arguing over music and the best car snacks. Windows down, yelling about who fucking cares, and just laughing their way through different states.

Robin hadn’t taken into account there might be other people involved in her bestie road trip fantasies. No, instead, it wasn’t the terrible two, platonic soulmate extravaganza she pictured. Instead it now involved them, Steve’s ex-turned-best friend, whom Robin had a horrible crush on, Nancy Wheeler, and a sweet metalhead who Robin saw as a brother, and Steve had a huge soul-consuming crush on Eddie Munson.

Robin begrudgingly would admit the additional two had made the trip better, so she didn’t have too many complaints. Actually, in reality, Robin only had one big hang-up about the whole thing.

Steve was in the back seat.

Which would have been fine if Robin had been there too, but she wasn’t. It was her stupid turn to drive in the home stretch of their way home. Instead, Robin had Nancy beside her. Which should have brought her joy but instead made her nervous and clammy and not at all suited to be behind the wheel of the death contraption they called a car. Plus, Nancy was asleep.

Her snores were pretty cute though.

Robin seethed silently; it was Eddie’s fault. He positively insisted on sitting with Steve in the back. Something which Robin would normally tease the both of them for, the oblivious idiots that they were, but Robin was a possessive little creature. It was a trait of hers she tried to bury deep down. She knew people didn’t like that; they didn’t like when people clung. Didn’t like that she felt like baring her teeth, even sometimes wanted to actually bite at people who tried to pry her people away from her.

It was funny, really; the only person who understood that part of her was Steve himself, which made her possessive side come out even more. Like seeks like, and crazy seeks crazy.

God, if she was every lucky enough to get a girlfriend, she was screwed.

Robin had resisted looking in the review mirror for twenty minutes. Probably not safe, but driving angrily wasn’t either, and if she saw the two of them giggling like school girls, she was gonna flip the car.

But Robin was never good at resisting temptation. She was most definitely the child who would touch the plate after someone told her it was too hot. So Robin took a glance, shoulders tense and mouth dry, and saw—

Well, shit. Robin melted. There in the back seat with their heads leaned against each other were Steve and Eddie, sound asleep.

The edges of Robin softened; she remembered Steve pinching his nose earlier, eyes squinting on his turn to drive. She had been in the passenger seat then. She had wanted to ask but instead said nothing, knowing he would wave her off. So she claimed her turn to drive, and then Eddie had been insistent that Steve come in the back with him and—

Robin was getting it now. Although Eddie had a big fat gay crush on Steve. That wasn’t why he wanted to be with Steve in the back. He had noticed, too. The edges of sleep deprivation creeping slowly into an oncoming migraine for Steve. Eddie had seen Steve pushing himself, and somehow also knew that if Steve stayed in the front, he would feel obligated to stay awake.

Robin hadn’t realized that, Eddie didn’t just want Steve; he paid attention to him. Eddie noticed Steve the way Robin noticed him.

Robin spared another glance at the two of them, wrapped around each other like vines snaking up an old oak tree. The last of her anger seemed to fade away. Even after all this time, none of them got a lot of sleep. Steve, most of all, seemed to run on fumes. Robin knew he couldn’t sleep soundly alone, but also couldn’t fall asleep around just anyone. For a long time, Robin had been his only cure for his insomnia. Steve never dared to fall asleep in front of strangers, afraid he’d scare them with his screams.

But here Steve was, in the arms of the man that he loves, not a single worry line on his face as he slept the rest of the trip away.

Robin knew, with certainty, Steve felt safe.

And because of that, Robin thought wistfully to herself, if Eddie Munson ever wants a turn at being a passenger, she wouldn’t mind taking the wheel for him, too.

***

a short lil thing to get me back in my writing grove. Is inspired by a friend of mine who is in her 20s and doesn’t drive. It’s totally okay and everyone moves at their own pace! And also I’m definitely a person who likes to drive others around as a sign of love (I am Steve coded I am beginning to realize)

Sorry if this isn’t any good, or seems rushed. Writers block is a bitch.

#steddie #stranger things #robin buckley #Robin is a feral gremlin just like the kids you can’t change my mind #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates #platonic soulmates stobin #POV Robin Buckley #outsider pov #background ronance #nancy wheeler #my writing #ficlet #steve x eddie

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ssweetleaf · 2 years

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bigmouth strikes again

♡ pairing- best friend!steve harrington x fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

♡ summary- steve doesn’t get jealous. ever. and when eddie ‘the freak’ munson tries to kiss you, he makes it his mission to split you open and show you who you belong to. but it’s totally not because he’s jealous,, definitely not.

♡ includes- SMUT, best friends to lovers, angst, pussy eating cuz it’s my fave, degradation, praise, jealous!steve, rushed bathroom sex, unprotected sex, (please don’t do that, use protection) spanking, shitty ending because you know me,,

♡ a/n- i was totally gonna make this a threesome including eddie, but decided against it :( seriously thinking of writing one of those now,,

Steve wasn’t jealous. Not at all. In fact, zero jealousy was looming inside of his mind even when ‘the freak’ Munson gave you heart eyes, practically pressing himself against you, letting all the prying eyes of the party ogle at the scene— god, Steve hoped that Eddie wouldn’t lean in for a kiss, he was so close, dangerously close and Harrington swore to all hell, he’d pour all of the contents of Eddie’s stupid lunch box down the fucking toilet bowl if he put his mouth on you—

Well, shit. Steve was totally jealous.

But how could he not be? The high school’s designated cult leader was flirting with his best friend! And yeah he wasn’t your boyfriend, but he sure as hell wanted to be, and seeing you all snug against Eddie’s chest, practically grinding against him while some Duran Duran song filtered throughout the house…Oh no, he was going in for the kiss,,

It didn’t take Steve long to be right by your sides, digging his palm into Munson’s shoulder and pushing him back with a surprising amount of force.

Poor King Steve was in deep.

“Get your fuckin’ mouth off her.” He grumbled, standing tall in front of you, shielding your body from his most deadly threat in that moment. Eddie blinked at him in a sort of disbelief, cocking his face to the side with hazy eyes.

“Well, I’m sorry-” he spoke, sarcasm practically dripping from the tip of his tongue, “I didn’t know y/n had a boyfriend.”

Steve stuttered over his speech, shifting from foot to foot and even looking back at you as if to say, can you believe this guy?

“Steve, what’re you doing?” You sighed while frowning up at him, of course he had to ruin a perfectly good interaction with a real pretty guy! You had thought it was time to move on from your stupid little crush on your best friend, and he had to go and fuck it up by inserting himself between you and a potential candidate to get over him. The worst part was, it just made you fall even deeper in love with Harrington than before, and you were really trying.

Steve was your best friend. Steve was your best friend!

“What am I doing?” He was still stuttering, gawking down at you as if you had two heads, and you could see Eddie was getting rather amused, watching the scene unfurl. “Seriously, y/n? I’m trying to get this freak away from you, before he gives you some- some disease!”

“What is your fuckin’ problem, Harrington?” Yeah, Eddie was no longer smirking, in fact he was scowling, pushing at Steve’s chest. All the ruckus was earning a small crowd, various inebriated eyes blinking up at the three of you.

What an embarrassment.

Steve shook his head, wrapping a hand around your wrist, though being careful not to tug too hard, attempting to usher you away, wanting to go somewhere a lot more private. Away from all the prying eyes; away from Eddie fucking Munson.

“Oh, I get it-” Munson smirked, getting all up in Steve’s space, face mere inches from his own and Steve could smell the weed on his clothes, “pretty boy stevie’s in love.”

Oh shit. He was blushing. He wasn’t supposed to be blushing, how the hell did Eddie figure that out?

“Shut up.” He seethed, scoffing at his conclusion, which was completely right actually, but he couldn’t ever let him have the satisfaction. It would ruin him.

“You jealous, Harrington? Is that right?” They were slowly starting to shove each other, harder with each go, but you couldn’t quite concentrate on the scene before you, those words coursing throughout your brain like a fucking mantra.

Pretty boy Stevie’s in love.

God, if it were true. You heart hammered at the thought, gnawing idly at your slick bottom lip — maybe it was time to interject. At the rate they were going, you were sure a fight would break loose, and you were even more sure of it when Steve went in for the punch.

For Christ’s sake!

His fist collided with the skin of Eddie’s cheek, splitting the skin of his knuckles and reddening Munson’s pretty face, the outline of a bruise already blooming.

“Alright, that’s enough!” You pulled at the collar of Steve’s shirt, pulling him back as much as you could— putting as much space between the two of them, enough so that when Eddie swung, his fist punched the air. “What has gotten into you, Steve!”

He shook his head, his knuckles throbbing, but it was worth it, he thought, curling his fingers around your wrist once again.

“Come on, y/n, it’s time to go.” Steve was still seething, but he wanted to get you alone. Fuck, he wanted to show you that you were his and no one else’s, he wanted to find the nearest bathroom and fuck you with his cock, nice ‘n’ deep until you knew who you belonged to, until the only name on your mind was his. Not Eddie’s.

His cock was stirring in his pants, and oddly, the growing welt upon Munson’s face had him throbbing.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry-” you tried to apologise, all while Steve dragged you off, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Steve scoffed, and Eddie called after you, shouting loud enough so you could hear him over the thumping of the current record.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? Sweetheart!

Oh yeah, now Steve was fuming. Tugging you behind him, his strides so large you could barely keep up with him, stumbling after him like a lost puppy.

Countless times you prodded at him, wondering where he was taking you. You could tell how angry he was, steam practically shooting from his ears and there were people staring.

It didn’t take him too long to find an empty room after searching through all of the locked and unfortunately unlocked ones— which mostly consisted of couples that were in the middle of fucking. Not a pretty sight.

“In.” His tone was clipped, brow furrowed and you wanted to smooth his worry lines away with the pads of your thumbs, but you quickly shook the thought away while he locked the door.

You weren’t totally sure what to do. Were you supposed to say something? To be frank, you quite liked the position you were in— the bathroom wasn’t small, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to step away from you, and neither could you, your chests heaving and you watched him sigh and groan.

“I don’t want him touching you like that,” He almost whined, rubbing his face with a palm, “I don’t want anyone touching you like that.”

“I- Steve, you can’t just decide who gets to touch me—”

“Do you seriously not understand what I’m trying to say?” He cut you off. What? Of course you didn’t understand, he was babbling and being rather possessive, and you wanted to punch yourself at how turned on you had gotten because of it.

“Enlighten me, Harrington.”

“You’re mine!” He huffed, “you belong to me, and no one else, especially not that fucking freak.”

You were gawking, cheeks burning and you swore your eyes were about to bulge out of their sockets. You hadn’t even realised he’d pushed you against the counter, trapping you there with a hand on either side of you, and you whined when his arms flexed.

The tension was thick, so thick you could cut it with a knife and his eyes flickered over your lips before he brought a hand to your throat, squeezing just barely. The scenario had gone from zero to a hundred so fast it could’ve given you whiplash and your senses were on a complete overload. The alcohol in your systems had you working at a fast pace, and you knew drunk Steve well enough to know how cocky he’d get.

“You gonna let me show you, sweetheart?” Steve’s lips ghosted over your cheek, breath fanning over the most sensitive parts of your neck and he even left a chaste little kiss to the skin. “Gonna be a good girl and let everyone hear how cock drunk you’re gonna be?”

Steve knew what you liked— all the late nights talking about what other guys did that turned you on, it really came in handy. His filthy words got to you, and you whined a quick yes before leaning in for a kiss. He stopped you however, pushing you back and the hand on your neck moved to your cheeks, squeezing them, making your lips jut into a pout.

“Not so fast, baby,” he cooed, “what’s the magic word?”

The fucking tease.

“Please, Stevie!” You fisted his shirt, whining and crying out already, all you wanted was his kisses.

“Atta girl.”

・✫・゜・。.

Your hips were flush against the counter, and his mouth was pressed hotly against yours, licking into your mouth and sloppily sucking your tongue into his. Steve thought he could’ve came from the pretty sound of your whimpers alone, but he promised himself he’d fuck you nice and dumb, split you open with his cock and have you all drooling and pretty underneath him.

He had to stay focused.

“On the counter, pretty girl,” his speech was muffled against your slick mouth, but you complied, shuffling awkwardly onto the bathroom counter and you only managed to lift yourself onto it with his help. “that’s it.”

He was quick to suck at your neck, mouthing at your pulse point and using his teeth and lips to litter your skin with filthy bruises. You were completely falling apart at the seams, mind buzzing and solely focused on Steve and you were so fucking wet, saturating the cotton that covered your cunt, and probably seeping into the fabric of your jeans.

“Take ‘em off.” You whined, squeezing at his biceps and letting a loud moan tumble from your throat at the sight of his swollen lips. He did as you asked with a smirk on his face, shuffling the denim down your thighs, fumbling to get rid of the shoes you were wearing and kicking them away.

“Such a greedy girl, hm? Fuckin’ dripping for me and I haven’t even gotten to the good part.” Three of his fingers rubbed you through your underwear, using his thumb to press down on your clit, “gonna let everyone know, isn’t that right? Gonna let everyone know how much of a whore you are for your best friend Stevie.”

Oh shit.

You were clenching around nothing, chest heaving because of his filthy mouth and nodding along to everything he said.

“Come on, thighs open-” his breath was getting laboured- impatient, pushing at your thighs and keeping them wide, falling to his knees and tugging your underwear to the side— a crude ripping sound followed suit, but fuck, you didn’t care, not when his pretty face nuzzled in between your thighs, breathing in your scent and fluttering his lashes up at you. He even had the audacity to smirk. “Gonna eat this fuckin’ pussy.”

Steve stuck to his word alright, starting off by mouthing at your thighs and slowly making his way to your folds, bumping his nose against your hidden clit before parting your folds with two fingers.

You were dripping, slick with arousal and all because of him, your clit throbbed and crooned to be in his mouth and you tugged at his hair, whining and batting your lashes.

“Please, Stevie,” his hips bucked at the sound, “m’so wet for you.”

He licked a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, starting at the base of your hole, right up to your clit and he dipped the tip of his tongue inside you, spreading your slick around, getting your clit all wet before suckling it between his lips.

He hummed against your cunt, the vibrations thrumming on your clit and he lapped and suckled, rolling it between his lips. He shook his head from side to side, and you cried out, tugging at his hair and pushing him deeper.

“Good girl,” those vibrations again! “Want you nice ‘n’ loud, d’you think you can do that f’me, honey?”

You babbled out a yes, cheeks already streaming with salty tears, running in long black lines, your lashes wet and thick with mascara— Steve thought you looked completely seraphic, even while your pussy was being devoured by his lips and tongue, even while you looked so fucked out. He couldn’t wait to get his cock inside you.

Full lips occasionally puckered against the inners of your thighs, the hot flesh slick with spit and faint outlines of his teeth before diving straight back to your pussy, lolling his tongue and sloppily thrusting his jaw like a starved man eating the forbidden fruit.

You were already so close, all from mere minutes of your clit being suckled at, but how could anyone blame you when he devoured your cunt like an absolute champ?!

It was as if he had read your mind,,

“Y’gonna cum, pretty girl?” he mumbled against you, crude squelching noises erupting throughout the bathroom and if it weren’t for the constant music thumping around the house, you were sure everyone would’ve been able to hear everything. “Be a good girl and hold it.”

“No-” you whined, sobbing into the air and pulling hard at his hair, guiding him to where you needed him most, practically fucking his face with the speed your hips bucked. “Needa cum, let me cum- I’ve been so good-”

Steve pulled away from your cunt, his palm landing a sharp smack to your thigh and his eyes were so fucking dark. A surge of warmth flooded your already sopping pussy and you couldn’t contain your sobs when he spanked you again.

“Too greedy for your own good-” he muttered, rising from his knees with a little bit of hesitation, he could’ve kneeled there for hours, but he wanted to keep you on your toes, show you who was in charge. “you cum when I tell you to cum, do you understand?”

His hands were on you again, squeezing at your cheeks like before, humiliating you, his cock throbbing just looking at the state of you.

And you fucking loved it.

He didn’t give you time to respond, using a free hand to open his belt buckle and unzip his fly— pushing his jeans and boxers down just enough for his cock to be free from all the confines.

He kissed you- once, twice, three times, then in quick succession, he had your t-shirt bunched around the curve of both breasts, tugging crudely at the band of your bra and thumb swiping over the little bow that lay pride and place between your tits. The weight of your breasts spilled out of the cups, so heavy in his palms and nipples achingly stiff when he rolled his thumbs over each one.

You poor thing, you were getting restless, thighs unable to clench and squeeze together because of his perch between them, resulting in you crooning and begging for him to hurry, to settle himself inside you and satiate the obscene throbbing of your desperately engorged clit.

Your spurring had him take his cock in his hand, and you ogled at how pretty it looked— the tip was your favourite shade of pink, glistening in the flickering light of the lamp, pearly white beads of pre-cum dripped along the sides of his shaft, slicking him up and sinking into the ridges.

So pretty. So mouth-wateringly pretty.

He was big too, surpassing any other guy you had been with before, and you just knew there was gonna be one hell of a stretch.

“Like what you see?” He flashed you a mocking smile. Cocky boy. “you’re practically drooling, messy girl.”

You wanted to quip back at him, or roll your eyes at least, but you couldn’t! Your gaze was glued to his cock, you were fucking gawking and yes, he was right, you were drooling.

“You’re so big.”

Steve’s tugs upon his cock faltered at that, you were whining so pathetically and he thought he was gonna explode. Compose yourself, Harrington, he thought.

“I know, baby, but you can take it, can’t you?” He cooed, “pretty pussy of yours is so wet, bet I’ll just slip right in, ain’t that right?”

His questions were truly rhetorical, and he proved his filthy mouth right when he slipped inside you with little resistance— your gummy walls sucking him in and he could barely move with your vice-like grip.

“Holy shit-” his hips stuttered, pressing his face against your tits so he could gather some composure. He wasn’t gonna last long. “Stop squeezin’ me like that or I’ll fucking cum.”

“Can’t help it, Stevie, I can feel you in my tummy-”

Fuck.

It took him a couple minutes, just standing there, balls-deep in your slick cunt before he started to thrust his hips. And once he had a rhythm going, he was relentless, fucking up into you nice and deep, just like he’d promised you before— his pace so fast, your fuzzy mind couldn’t quite comprehend it and you drooled at how deep he was, already nudging your special spot and making you writhe.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t answer, dumb from the deep thrusts of that perfect cock of his.

“So cockdrunk you can’t even use your words,” he moaned loud into the stuffy air, “fuck, imagine if Munson saw us. Saw you sat on your best friend’s cock. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, squealing and whining, so pathetic and pretty and a part of you wanted Eddie to see you- or anyone for that matter, so everyone would know that you belonged to your best friend Steve Harrington: one of the most sought after boys in Hawkins.

“Christ- didn’t know you were such a— oh fuck- such a whore.”

You were close, and you made that apparent— with the constant pounding of his cock and the bumping of his pelvis upon your puffy clit had you near to cumming, you hoped he’d let you cum this time, leaning in for a kiss that was entirely tongue and teeth, his lips still sticky with your arousal and you quivered around him.

“Gonna- gonna cum! Needa cum so bad-” he did too, you could feel it, he was groaning, whining, clinging onto your thighs and pumping erratically into you— he was throbbing hotly, and the thought of his cum inside you, all deep and stuffed full to the brim- holy shit!

“Me too- fuck, baby-” he clung to you, kissing any space upon you that was closest, “go on, cum with me. Be a good girl now-”

A flurry of stars and twinkly lights fluttered around the room and Stevie was a complete blur, but still managed to be oh so pretty. You were so full of his cum, warm throughout, and your hole quivered and your clit thumped with the bliss of cumming finally. Expletives fell from his lips, and yours too, feeling sated and breathless, but not entirely settled because of the spasms that racked your limp body.

Steve stood shakily between your still-parted thighs, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck with a thumb grazing your warm cheek.

He couldn’t pull himself out of you yet, too fucked out to put his softening cock back into his jeans.

It was silent between you both, apart from your laboured breaths.

“Y’know-” you managed to croak out, voice horse from the constant squealing and whining of SteveSteveSteve- and you raked a hand through his messy hair, “you were totally jealous.”

“I was not jealous.”

“You so were!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

♡ link to my masterlist

♡ likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated so much!

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fanfic #joe keery smut #joe keery x reader #joe keery x y/n #joe keery fanfic

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bigtreefest · 1 month

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Chapter 5: From the Ground Up

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: It’s time for Bucky to take charge in your absence.

Word count: 4,065

Content/warnings: Interrogation, restraints (not in the sexy way), allusions to violence, swears, name calling, pet name usage, female reader, kissing, horseback riding?

Author’s Note: I REALLY loved writing this chapter. This is where we start to see the other storylines of the Outta Nowhere AU emerge, so keep an eye out as those get released.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky was mad-no, he was seething as he paced back and forth in your home office. It was in the wee hours of the morning when his private jet had landed on the local airstrip. Within that same hour, Sam had personally escorted in the little nerd responsible for a good third of the turmoil going on in Bucky’s head: Jake.

Sam had taken the liberty of pre-binding his hands and duct taping his mouth shut. Bucky was going to enjoy ripping the goatee straight off his mousy little face.

Five hours ago

As soon as Steve had gotten off the phone with Bucky, he called the construction crew. They kept them on call for things like this, but the two of them never thought the stakes would be this high. It wasn’t often that someone important and non-expendable was put in this type of danger, let alone someone Bucky cared about. As he was finishing up the call and directing them towards your house, Sam reached out to him with a sticky note.

On it was a name and the address to an apartment in the city, along with Sam’s scrawled ‘pick her up on your way over.’ Steve nodded as he hung up his call and placed another, grabbing the duffel bag he kept packed by the door and heading out.

Three Hours Later

Bucky hadn’t left your side since the rocks collapsed. Luckily, the two of you had been able to find a small gap in the rocks where you both sat. It wasn’t large enough to keep air circulating, but it was big enough to at least allow the two of you to talk with each other. You and Bucky had shared so much, from him sharing his first business operation with Steve, to you detailing crazy college stories of when you, your roommate, and Curtis would hang out.

Bucky laughed along. There was a whole side of you he never knew. He had studied intently what showed up on paper, and he knew the hardships you’d faced from your deep conversation last week, but this? This was a whole new, more playful side. He was surprised to see your spirits so high despite the situation.

“I do not believe that one bit. No way you were climbing up clock towers at school just to steal the clock hands, or a random brick or whatever. You’re too straight-laced.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you leaned your head back against the stone wall. “Oh please, people already pay so much to go there, if anything, I had more than the right to do it. Our money pays for that stuff. Technically we owned it. Not the school.”

Bucky snorted. “You didn’t even pay tuition. Didn’t they pay you to go there?”

“That’s besides the point, Bucket. Fight the man. And anyway, if you think I’m straight laced, you should meet my roommate.”

Bucky grimaced. “Yeah, about that. She’s on her way here right now.”

Your ears perked up. “Decks is on the way? Oh, that’s good. She’ll be super helpful. She’s so organized, although, I can’t imagine she took well to whoever had to interrupt her beauty sleep. Who’s the poor guy?”

Bucky sharply inhaled. “Steve.”

“Oooo hooo hoo.” You laughed. “That’ll be a fun one for both of them. They’re either gonna love or hate each other. What are all the rest of the ETAs?”

Bucky looked at his watch. Well, really, he had been checking his watch this whole time to monitor his pulse, which was over 100 consistently since the tunnel buckled. He was shaking with concern for you, but kept his voice level to keep you calm, a trick he and Steve had worked tirelessly to master. “Ummm… looks like the construction crew should be here within the hour. And I’ll bet Decks and Steve will be pulling up any minute.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “Anyone else coming that I should know about? So I can figure out where they’ll best fit around the farm? Decks is great with the animals.”

You hadn’t heard all of Bucky’s or Curtis’s phone calls earlier since they stepped out of the cave to make them with better reception. Bucky didn’t want you to know Jake was on the way, mostly because he knew you’d make him promise not to hurt the rat, and he didn’t want to have to make that promise with the high likelihood it would be broken. He decided a better move would be to change the subject.

“So where did the nickname ‘Decks’ come from anyway?”

“Oh! Well it’s actually-“

Bucky heard footsteps near the mouth of the mine. He did his best to politely cut you off. “Wait, Honey, I’m so sorry, quiet for one second.”

He sat there and silently listened, the rustling becoming closer and clearer until he identified it as hooves clopping gently against the soft ground. He heard Curtis’s voice say something vaguely before he moved to get his feet underneath him and brush off his pants.

“I think Curtis is here with Steve and Decks. I don’t want anyone else to come in, just in case it’s still too unstable. Can you tell me exactly what you need them to do?”

You nodded, even though you knew Bucky couldn’t see it and began to lay out the instructions. Decks and Steve weren’t here to clean out the tunnels, they were here to help keep the farm running until you were freed, and no one knew how long that would take. It was best to keep only those who could be closely trusted around until this was all figured out. God forbid the authorities come knocking, or worse yet, Cole. Bucky held onto your every word before briefly leaving the tunnel to relay the information.

Bucky returned to you shortly after instructing Curtis to take Steve and Decks back to the house so they could rest before their long day tomorrow. Everything needed to run as smoothly as possible to not raise suspicion from your absence, which they were going to claim was due to a corn crop farmer’s conference out in Iowa if anyone asked.

After another hour with you, Bucky let you know the construction company arrived and was starting to stabilize the ceiling so they could dig you out. “I’ve gotta go deal with some business, so I’ll be back soon. Plus, I can’t get in the way of these vehicles. But say the word to one of the crew and I’ll be back here in a minute flat. I promise.”

Bucky’s promises meant a lot. That was something you had learned in your conversations. He never said something unless he had a plan to deliver. A man’s word was everything in his line of work.

“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that!” You yelled back.

Bucky chuckled. “I’m going to send Sam back here as soon as he arrives. He’ll keep you company.” And with that, Bucky made his way back to the house.

So this is where Bucky found himself, walking back and forth menacingly behind Jake, who had been tied down to the guest chair in your office. Jake’s eyes shifted back and forth with nervousness as he tried and failed to hold back whimpers and near-hyperventilating breaths.

Bucky had been silent for only ten minutes. He liked the way it made them squirm. He could sit and stare all day, completely unbothered, as anyone he interrogated slowly lost their mind. Of course, there were other, more fun ways, to get information, but he wouldn’t dare mark up your home. He’d never let the one they called ‘The Winter Soldier’ be unleashed in your sanctuary. This is the closest he would ever get, though, and it would never be seen by you.

Bucky stalked around Jake and crouched in front of him. “A milk maid came in here and told me that you’d given him information about this farm. Care to share?”

Jake shook his head vigorously and whined through the duct tape over his mouth. Bucky leaned in closer. What was more terrifying than being yelled at by him? Bucky with an alarmingly level voice.

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that. I can help you talk a little better, but you’ve gotta be quiet. There are people upstairs sleeping, and I can’t guarantee they’ll be as nice as me if you wake them. Promise to be good?”

Jake nodded carefully and slowly. Bucky reached for the tape at the corner of Jake’s mouth and ripped it off quickly. Jake’s head lurched forward, his mouth open with a silent scream between gasping breaths. Bucky examined the sticky side of the tape. There was no hair on it. The steam from Jake’s mouth must’ve reduced the stickiness just enough that it didn’t cause damage. Shame.

Bucky slammed his hands over Jake’s on the armrests of the chair. “Tell me everything.” He gritted out between clenched teeth.

Jake giggled uncomfortably. “Uh….there’s not really much to know, mister…sir….does this have to do with Peach? I thought she owned this farm now. Where is she?”

Bucky growled. “That’s not important right now, but yes, this is about this farm. Tell me everything you told the guy with the soft hands and the jackets that were too crisp to indicate a day of work in his whole life.”

Bucky had no intention to associate that with his own designer crisp suits that he wore everyday back in the city. That was different, it was a totally separate line of work, plus, he wasn’t trying to pose as something that he’s not when he wore them. Anyway, he’s not the one on trial here.

“Oh! You mean Cole? Fucking prick.” Jake mumbled looking down and to the side. “I can promise whatever he said to you was a lie. That guy’s always been awful. He hides a demon face behind his handsomeness.”

Bucky didn’t want to be on Jake’s side, but he couldn’t argue with that. But to keep him talking, Bucky leaned in closer, moving his hand towards the knife on his belt loop. Jake flinched and raised his hands in surrender as much as he could with his wrists tied down.

“Okay, okay, I promise I didn’t say much. At least not on purpose. I was at an investors party up in San Francisco when Cole bumped into me. He was bragging about how he had just inherited his parents’ company and it was way bigger than when we were in high school. Frankly, I didn’t care, I make an effort to forget about a lot from back then, mostly him, so I tried to disprove him by saying that there are still nice little farms around despite his family’s efforts. I told him I still had my mom buy me honey that Peach makes, herself.” He hung his head in shame.

Bucky huffed as he leaned back against your desk and crossed his arms. “Well, way to go. You know, they painted you to be some genius, but you’re an absolute idiot.”

Jake looked up and scrunched his nose. “Well I actually prefer the term loser, bu-“

Bucky raised his hand to stop Jake from talking. “I really don’t care. What matters is that you’ve made a mess for Honeybee that inconveniences all of us. I’ve gotta be the one to work on cleaning this up while she’s otherwise occupied.”

Jake cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow in confusion. “Who the fuck is ‘Honeybee?’ Are we talking about the same person?”

Bucky sighed and wiped a hand over his face, stopping with it covering his mouth. He looked at the helpless man in front of him. How had you ever dated this guy? If he used to be great, what on Earth happened to him? “God, you’re slow to catch on. Yes, it’s the same person, but I don’t think the sweet peach you used to know and love is in there anymore. Not after you abandoned her. And especially not after you gave up her operation on a silver platter to Cole.”

Jake swallowed as he caught on. He had seen the devious glint in Cole’s eye when they had run into each other, but just thought it was a product of Cole’s braggadocious success. Not his complete hunger for domination. Despite the way Jake left, he still cared for you. He didn’t want to see the thing you loved taken away, especially by the guy who caused him so much grief. The guy your family defended him from on so many occasions. He felt awful. You’d taken care of Jake when he was around, but when the opportunity came for him to do the same for you, he failed.

Tears began to well up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Whatever I can do to help, I will, please, misterrrr…….”

Bucky’s shoulders pushed back in arrogance. Jake squealed all the information he had and didn’t even know the name of the man interrogating him. That wouldn’t do, especially if Bucky wanted to eventually release Jake back out into the wild once this was all over. He made a mental note to have someone coach Jake on how to not give up sensitive intel so easily. But for now, Bucky would take advantage of the ease of informational access.

“Barnes. You get to call me Barnes.”

“Ooh! So like a cool nickname only I get to use? I feel so special.”

Bucky chuckled dryly at that. Jake really was clueless. “No. Not at all like that.” Bucky leaned forward, elbows on his knees as his face inched closer to Jake’s.

“Now tell me everything you know about the mines.”

Jake’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? Those old things? Yeah, Peach and I used to make out in the-“

Bucky waved his hand again as he closed his eyes, unable to look at Jake for another second. “No. Skip that part. What else?” He quickly said, dismissively.

“I know they’re old? Like crazy old and probably prone to collapse at this point. But Pe- I mean, your Honeybee does some occasional civil engineering contracting work. She could probably easily whip up a plan to reinforce them.”

Bucky looked at Jake more intently. He liked the way Jake said his Honeybee, but he couldn’t let that distract him right now. And anyway, you were very much your own person. Far from his. If anything, he was yours. He knew about all your business endeavors, but not those kinds of specifics. “Keep talking.”

“Yeah, I kept up with her after school-well, more like I asked my mom to keep up with her. Apparently she’s like, designed bridges for town and stuff. Why? What’s going on with the mines?”

“That’s not technically your business.” Bucky stood there, debating on his next move.

Jake’s eyes lit up as he gasped loudly. “Oh my gosh. Is she in trouble!? Did she get hurt in a mine!?”

Bucky slapped his hand over Jake’s mouth and whisper yelled at him. “What did I say about keeping it down?”

Jake winced and whispered back. “Sorry. Does Curtis know?”

Bucky nodded. “Yes. And he’s upstairs sleeping. Don’t. Poke. The Bear.”

Jake nodded again. He was being so compliant, Bucky figured he could let a few more details slip. Maybe Jake was a little smarter than Bucky gave him credit for. “She’s trapped in one of the smaller caves. I’ve already got a construction crew digging her out.”

“Wait wait wait. You guys have a proper plan for this, right? You’ve gotta put supports in first and then calculate the load-bearing rocks. You can’t just go willy-nilly digging or it could get worse.” Man, based off that language, Bucky had no doubt Jake truly did grow up around you.

“Good observation, Jakey. That’s where you come in. I know I could’ve just called you if I wanted to know what you told Cole, but I needed you in person to know how serious I am. Grab your little computer and we’ll get going so you can run the calculations while Honeybee talks you through them. You can still ride a horse, right?”

Jake moved to get up, only to be stopped by the restraints. Bucky turned around from the door, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Oh, that’s right, my bad. I’ll get you untied and then we can go.”

Sam was talking with you about where to put which construction vehicles when he heard hooves make their way to the entrance. Bucky dismounted the back of a horse holding a laptop, followed by Jake who was riding ahead of him on that same horse.

“Not a word of this, Samuel.” Bucky growled lowly into Sam’s ear with clenched teeth. “I’ve already threatened the kid with the same.”

Bucky still had no idea how to ride a horse on his own, but would never admit that, so he was actually extremely grateful that Jake could take the reins. Sam had taken the other horse to get to you, leaving only one back at the house for him and Jake to use.

Bucky handed Jake the laptop and patted him on the back harshly, making it more of a shove. This led him to the small hole where you and Sam had just been talking.

Bucky followed at a quicker pace, reaching the area just before Jake could and held his arm out in front of the blond to bar him from going any farther. “Hi Honey, it’s me. I brought you a little present to help out, I hope you’re not mad. It’s your old friend Jacob from high school. Say hi.”

“Jake? Like… Jensen?” You responded, trying to look through the small hole unsuccessfully.

“Yeah, Peach, it’s me. I’m here to get you out. A-and Mr. Barnes wants you to know he’s been nothing but kind to me.” Jake clutched his laptop firmly to his chest, leaning over to be heard better through the small opening.

Bucky gave a stern nod to Jake for already responding well to his coaching on the way over here. Jake sat down by the hole where Bucky had sat before and got to work.

“Okay, Bee. Like I told you before, you say the word and I’ll be here in a minute. You can time me.”

“Where are you going?” He could hear the slight worry in your voice.

“To run a farm. And by that, I mean listen to Curtis.”

You giggled. “Okay, Bucket. See you soon.”

He looked back and smiled before turning towards Sam and pointing into his chest. “You tell me the second she’s close to getting out. I’ll be there.”

Sam nodded. “Sure thing, boss. Need help getting back up on your horse?”

Bucky was already turned away and heading back to your house. He waved a hand dismissively. “No. I’m walking.”

Sam chuckled as he watched the mob boss trudge away. He knew something had shifted in Bucky’s feelings. And he definitely had his suspicions that Bucky couldn’t ride a horse.

When Bucky returned to your house, he didn’t go upstairs. He feared the creaking of the steps would wake Decks, Curtis, and Steve. Plus, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep. Why would he when there was so much to do to help you? He would just get in the way at the mines, so he went into your office. He pulled out the files and article you had planned to show him the previous night regarding Cole from the kitchen, and as he sat down in your chair, he saw a contract with a familiar watermark. Shit.

Fuck. Shit. Bitch.

The letterhead was from ‘Turners Farm Corporation,’ which he had expected, but the associated law firm was ‘Hansen & Co.’ Bucky had his fair share of law firms in his back pocket, but this was not one of them. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Lloyd Hansen was something of Bucky’s rival in the city. He was an unhinged lunatic. Where Bucky ran things with honor, poise, and calculated movements, Lloyd was messy, unpredictable, and reckless. He’d been trying to make multiple steps into Bucky’s territory, geographically and business-wise, but Bucky had done a decent job at shutting it down thus far.

And now Cole was in cahoots with Lloyd, well, not him directly on paper, just his bitch-ass sister who ran the firm. Bucky couldn’t believe-well, actually he could. He could believe that Cole would have teamed up with Hansen to build enough power for a takeover, especially considering it didn’t add up if Cole was making these moves on his own.

Fired by frustration that more than supplemented the sleep Bucky lacked from not just tonight, but this whole week, he snapped a picture of the contract and sent it to Sam. Sam would make sure it made its way through the right channels and contacts still back in the city. For now, Bucky had a more important priority than personally dealing with business: You. He had never been so grateful for Sam.

As he skimmed through the final page of the contract Cole had proposed to you, the first rooster crowed. Bucky got up to gather the eggs and make breakfast like any other day in the routine he’d grown so familiar with over just the past two weeks. But instead of cooking for you, he was cooking for the small army that came to your aid.

Curtis came barreling down the steps first, followed by Decks, and then eventually, Steve, who slumped and slinked down the stairs, reminiscent of Bucky’s first day doing the same. At least they were able to get themselves up.

Bucky plated their food, Curtis eyeing him with a small smile that Bucky failed to notice, and he sat down in his normal spot to start eating. He honestly didn’t have the appetite to do so, but he knew he’d crash without food since he already wasn’t sleeping, so he forced it down, preparing to go over the assignments with everyone once again.

Steve would be doing what Bucky had last week to set up the farmer’s market since it was scheduled to go again. Decks would be taking over the tasks you had, feeding the animals, and then doing sales with Bucky since people already knew his face. No need to raise more suspicion by introducing two new people to an event you were usually at.

Once everyone cleared their plates, they got to work, doing everything they could to be of assistance for the mob boss who was very evidently on edge.

It was early afternoon when Bucky got a call from Sam. He immediately picked it up.

“We’re close, boss. Only a couple more large boulders to go before there’s a big enough gap to pull her through.”

Bucky dropped the empty crates he was carrying onto the floor of the storage shed where he was returning them from the farmers market. Lucky for him, the storage shed was much closer to the mines than the barn.

Bucky was full-on sprinting in a way no one had ever seen. He never had to once he rose to power. All he did was walk, his long strides alone commanded enough respect. But this wasn’t about pride. It was about you.

He arrived at the mine entrance, breathing heavily, just as Sam was holding your hand, helping you step over a pile of sand and pebbles. Jake stood awkwardly to the side as you looked up from your feet to see Bucky quickly moving toward you. A smile took over your face and you sighed in relief. He scooped you up and spun you around before setting you down again and using his large hands to frame your face. Bucky didn’t care about the dirt and grime that had built up on the two of you. All he cared about was your safe return to his arms.

You watched as his eyes darted between yours and down to your lips. You wouldn’t hold back anymore. He had put all his resources into saving you, helping you. Without wasting another second, you leaned up on your toes and smashed your lips into his. When you pulled back, Bucky lost consciousness, collapsing in your arms.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Tbh I thought some moments in here were so funny, but I’d love to hear your thoughts!! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated!!! If I could, I’d make a secret handshake with you through the phone for following this plot line with me. 😉🤠

Series Taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

@vicmc624

@hawkeyes-queen

@blackhawkfanatic

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honeybadgerwritings · 2 years

Note

Imagine Eddie and Steve teasing the reader for being shy, but the moment someone else does it they immediately become all protective over you 😭

Oh my god they so would…this is the cutest fucking thing ever!!!

You’d just look up at them with a big ole’ pout on your lips, arms crossed over your chest, and they’d be staring down at you with shit eating grins.

“C’mon princess— no need to be so shy.” Eddie would lightly pinch your reddened cheek between his ringed fingers, “Dawww, look at those cheeks blush Stevie.”

The fluffy haired man would chuckle, bending down to your level and making you squirm under his gaze, “What’s the matter baby?” Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, “It’s just us… why so nervous?”

“Stop ittt!” You’d whine and stomp your foot, hiding your face in your crossed arms. They’d chuckle, relishing in your bashfulness. Eddie’d bend down next to Steve, smiling wide.

“Look at me honey.” And you’d shake your head, responding with a muffled “uh-uh.” Steve would snicker at that, hand reaching out to gently rub your lower back.

“Poor thing, can’t even look at us.” He’d make eye contact with Eddie, whose still enjoying this as much as he is. “You guys are mean.” You’d pout, still hiding your face, and Eddie would smirk, lifting your chin between his fingers so you have no other choice but to look at him and Steve.

“I know baby,” he’d look over to Steve and wink, “We’re just the meanest aren’t we?”

You’d nod, still pouting at them. Steve would lean forward, placing a kiss on your flushed cheek.

“We can’t help it though sweetness, you’re just too cute.”

But god help anyone else who tried to use your shyness against you. Maybe you’d helped another student by doing their homework for them, and hadn’t gotten a high enough grade on it to be satisfactory.

“You gonna say something?”

You’d want to tell them that it’s just a B+ and it’s nothing to cry over, but your shyness would get the better of you, and you’d shrink in on yourself.

“What, cat got your tongue? Too scared to own up to this— this bullshit?” Tears would begin to well in your eyes and you’d bite your lip, looking anywhere but at them. “Oh here we go, shy, stupid, and a crybaby. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Hey!”

The booming voice would appear out of nowhere, startling both of you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Another voice would fill the silence as you’d watch Eddie brush past you. Steve would be right behind him, stepping in front of you to keep you from the person’s view.

“Say that shit again, I dare you.” Eddie would seethe, towering over them, and the person would tremble underneath his gaze, rambling out apologies as they step away from the three of you.

“Shut the fuck up and get lost.” Steve would spit, and they wouldn’t hesitate, turning on their heel and scrambling down the hallway. They’d forget where they were for a second as they watch the student run, until they’d hear you sniffle behind them, spinning around to find you with a trembling lower lip and teary eyes.

“They- they said I’m shy and stupid and-” you’d cut yourself off with a choked sob. The boys would be on you in a second, cradling your face, whispering reassurances, whatever you needed.

“Oh honey, they don’t deserve these tears.” Steve would thumb away the salty wetness from your puffy cheeks, while Eddie’d hold you from behind, arms around your waist and his chin resting on your head. “You’re so perfect, there’s nothing wrong with being shy.”

“But I-”

“Ah ah-” Eddie would cut off your worried remark, “You heard Stevie. You’re perfect. Our perfect, smart little thing.”

You’d nod slowly, sniffling as Eddie’d place a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “You guys didn’t have to do that for me.”

“Course’ we did,” Steve would grin at you, “Besides, we’re the only ones who get to tease you for being shy.”

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unclejezzzy · 1 month

Text

Dazzling Starlet, Bardot Reincarnate

It’s 1990. Eddie Munson did Steve Harrington the favour of being his first male sexual encounter and is filled with deep regret when Steve Harrington shows up at his apartment needing his help months later.

OR: Steve’s parents find magazines under his bed and Eddie begrudgingly lets him stay at his apartment and hates every second even though hes secretly a sweetie with a soft spot

"I cannot fucking believe it." Eddie grumbled, arm leaning against the surface of the bar as he glared over the rim of his glass.

"What?" Robin asked, immediately averting her gaze to Eddie's line of sight.

"Oh, you're talking about Steve again. Shocking." Robin sang, tone tainted in sarcasm.

It had been three months since Eddie had kicked Steve out of his apartment the morning after their surprising, yet oddly exhilarating sexual excursion.

He'd done Steve a favour, Eddie got laid. Quid pro quo. All's fair in sex and war.

Eddie was of the assumption that he was free of him, that life would go back to normal after Steve Harrington. Like plucking a blood sucking leech from your skin knee deep in a shallow river or finally digging out that splinter in your finger with a pair of tweezers.

But no.

Because Steve Harrington was everywhere.

All of the time.

Dancing, flirting, kissing.

He'd become a regular at Eddie's most sacred place. His Nirvana, his church. Valhalla, Abraham's bosom, whatever you wanted to call it.

Thursday to Saturday, as soon as those club doors opened at 9pm, there he was. He'd even made friends with the bouncers so he could skip the queue each time. The guy had a fucking membership card and every single person in there knew who he was.

Eddie shrugged it off at first. He's young, he's finding himself. He deserves to blow off some steam and have a little fun. The sex was pretty much the only joy of being gay so he couldn't blame him too much.

Eddie would watch him saunter up to past, present - and what he was hoping were future - flings without a care in the world. He cut his T-shirts up into crop tops to show off his abs, he started wearing eyeliner, he would tease and flirt with anyone who so much as looked in his direction.

He had a posse of men around him at all times with their hands all over him.

And Eddie was forced to bear witness to all of it.

Eddie whips around to face Robin behind the bar, slamming his glass down on the surface.

"I used to be the best fucking ride in here. Then he comes along acting like he owns the place and everyone flocks to him like Jesus' disciples after he waltzed out of his cave." Eddie seethed through gritted teeth.

"They're just a bunch of cock starved hedonists. Y'know I thought we had a little humility about us. Evidently fucking not."

Robin rolled her eyes, drying a glass with a dish towel.

"He's just the hot new thing, you know how this place goes. Some other poor unsuspecting twink will come along in a week and everyone will forget about him."

"I literally taught him everything he knows."

"Well - at least you don't have to deal with him anymore. You did him a solid and now he's - giving everyone else a solid." Robin snickered.

Eddie downed his drink, sliding the empty glass across the bar.

"Makes me sick." He spat.

"You're not jealous are you?" Robin smiled slyly as she poured a single measurement full of Eddie's favourite whiskey.

Jim Beam. Old reliable, Jim. That was the one man who couldn't piss Eddie off even if he tried.

"No, no - I'm not fucking jealous."

"Sounds like you're jealous." Robin thinned her lips and widened her eyes cautiously as she handed Eddie his drink.

"Screw you, man. I just think it's a bit rich coming from the guy who didn't even know how to finger himself three months ago." Robin grimaced as Eddie took a hefty sip.

"Like, how good can he be really? He's a bottom, all he does is lay there. I was the one doing all the work! Me!" He exclaimed as Robin continued to stare at him.

"What?"

"It just sounds like you're a bit upset that after your steamy night of passion, he seems to have forgotten all about you."

"That doesn't upset me." Eddie sneered.

"Its preferable he forgets all about me. I like it that way."

"Sure." Robin said, lowering her gaze to bite back a smile she was desperately trying hard to hide from Eddie.

"Are you forgetting that I could have had him again? I'm the one who sent him packing the next morning. I didn't get down on my knees and beg him to stay. I wanted him gone."

"Well, there you go then. I don't know what you're so uptight about!" Robin declared, slapping her hands against her thighs in defeat.

Eddie turned around, realising he wasn't going to be getting the validation from Robin anytime soon. Ever the pacifist.

Eddie watched as Steve raked a hand through his hair - his already cropped shirt lifting even higher as Eddie's eyes unwillingly glazed over the scope of his body.

God.

Steve gleamed at Eddie, making his way over to the bar.

"Oh my fucking God there's no escape is there." Eddie muttered.

"Hey." Steve called out breathlessly, smiling at Eddie.

"Hi." Eddie grumbled, leaning back against the bar and crossing his arms tightly against his chest.

"You look like you're having fun."

"I would say the same for you, but - looks a bit dry over here." He retaliated, directing his attention to Robin and offering her a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Could I get a vodka lime and soda please, Robin?"

"Sure thing!" Robin responded.

A little too politely for Eddie's liking.

"Vodka lime and soda? What are you a forty year old woman watching her figure?" Eddie mocked, peering at Steve in his peripheral.

"Well - I was gonna offer to buy you a drink"-

"No thanks. I don't take handouts." He interjected, hurriedly.

"So testy." Steve acknowledged - folding his arms against the bar, elbow knocking against Eddie's as he situated himself mere inches against his face.

"And for your information - It's the opposite of dry, thank you very much. We're having a blast."

"Yeah, it's a real hoot and a half over here." Robin deadpanned, topping Steve's drink off with soda water.

"Coulda fooled me." Steve shrugged.

"Not going out there?" He asked, cocking his head over to the main floor filled with bustling bodies.

"Nah, just observing tonight. I'm not interested in chasing around a bunch of fucked out crystal queens with blown out pupils right now."

"Y'know - I've seen you a couple times - you haven't left with anybody in a while." Steve acknowledged.

"So?"

"So - could the great Eddie Munson be past his prime?"

Oh, this kid had a death wish.

Continue reading on ao3

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie smut #gay eddie munson #ao3 #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #stranger things #gay steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve x eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie stranger things

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lovebugspots · 8 months

Text

How crazy can one man be?

For preface, the reader has the ability over nature. So things like plants, water, growth, healing, light are her powers. Think of a Fairy, and how Maleficent has that like golden dust.

—————————————————————

It was normal to be chased out by a crazed man because of being a mutant, mostly… But what was not normal, was getting chased by two super soldiers, widow, and a bird-like human? No idea.

The not-so young mutant saw them, and sprinted off when the group of heroes started chasing her, little did they know, they got the wrong mutant.

11:26 AM. June 13th.

Y/n was trying to have a somewhat nice day. Just trying to get her weekly shopping done, getting groceries, some new books, new cleaning products and laundry. But before she even got into the local grocery store she heard loud footsteps.

She turned around and saw the group of men and one woman all staring at her. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rodgers, Sam Wilson, and Natasha Romanoff. “Earths Mightiest Heroes”.

Y/n knew better then to run, usually.

But this wasn’t the case, Barnes started chasing her so quickly she ran and she heard his rough voice bark out.

“Get back here!”

“I’ll pass!”

She screamed back and started running as fast as she could, adrenaline pumping through her blood as her heart beat quickens.

She pumped her arms and her legs as she dodged the poor men and woman just trying to shop.

“Sorry! Oh shit! Sorry kid!”

She yelled apologetically as she body slammed a kid on accident…She looked back and saw that all of them started chasing her while The Falcon was sin the sky. So, in the heat of the moment she created a bomb out of her magic golden glitter, and threw it up.

“What the fuck?!”

Sam yelled as he descended from the sky, slamming down on the top of the building. He definitely now had a few broken ribs.

Y/n kept running, and unsurprisingly, the only person left running was Bucky. He still yelled for her to stop, but she didn’t. The adrenaline was starting to wear off as she got tired, her lungs hurting and sweat stuck to her skin. Her clothes now felt sticky, and gross.

Bucky to advantage of that and ran up to her and jumped on her, pinning her to the ground.

“Ma’am you are arrested for- oh shit.”

His beautiful steel blue eyes, they now were filled of regret. His pupils small and he got off of her.

“Oh my god…I-I am so, so, sorry. We thought you were…someone else…”

He professed, he got off of her, he helped her up. Y/n…wasn’t happy…

“Excuse me?”

Y/e/c was filled with unadulterated rage, he thinks that he can just say ‘I’m sorry for chasing you even though you aren’t the right person’ and she would accept?

“Did you say ‘wrong person?’”

She spat out and puts her hands on her hips. He grimaced and nodded, he wasn’t happy either, he was ashamed.

“I-I did-“

She cut him off quickly, and seethed out bitterly.

“So are the Avengers after mutants as well?”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed and she backed away from him, but her shakes his head and said softly.

“No not at all! I-I though, I mean, we, thought you were Mystique…”

Y/n’s eyes soften at that name, an old friend of hers, Raven.

“Raven?”

“Yes! You know her?”

“Of course…her death was impacting to all.”

Bucky’s eyes widen, his lips parted but he stammered out…

“Death..? She…died?”

Y/n nodded, she walked up to him and said.

“1992, Jean killed her.”

All Bucky could do was nod, he bit his lip and looked up at her. She sighed and asked delicately.

“Why are you after her?”

Bucky sighed, it was private S.H.E.I.L.D information. But she deserved to know.

“There have been reports about a shapeshifter, and the only person we could point to was her…”

He paused then continues softly.

“But her death isn’t in the system?”

Y/n nodded and answered.

“Xavier said nothing, so mutants wouldn’t get more hate then we already do…”

Bucky sighed and nodded, understanding her words. He stood up fully and puts his flesh hand (his right) out to shake with hers.

“I’m sorry about that. But I’m James, James Buchanan Barnes. But call me Bucky.”

He expressed, giving a beautiful smile…a smile that gave Y/n butterflies. She shakes the feeling off and puts her hand in his.

“Y/n Máxima, just call me Y/n.”

She smiles softly, shaking his hand.

Little did she know, he had the butterflies too. Except it was the ones where he wanted to puke from how harsh they were.

“What a beautiful name…”

He mumbled softly and takes his hand away, and he added softly.

“Hopefully I see you in the near future, Mrs. Máxima…”

She immediately missed his warm, and calloused hand. But all she did was smile and said.

“You will, I assure you of it.”

She looked around and when she looked back at him…he was gone.

—————————————————————

Hii this is my first work, not the best, but it was on my phone and I am way better with a computer. I will definitely make a part two when I’m not busy <3

And I will take requests, and such. I can do other MCU characters but I am in the process on working on my blog. So please be patient. :)

Much love-

Ry 🩵

#bucky x y/n #bucky banres #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #mcu x reader #mutant #x men comics #marvel #magic #love

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t-lostinworlds · 1 year

Note

" it's okay. i promise you, i will be here when you wake up. " with steve harrington please :)

A/N: i'm such a sucker for a love confession moment so it somehow made it's way here lmao. hope u like this @annab-nana !! <3

steve harrington x fem!reader | wc: 1.3k | best friends to lovers, canon typical violence, blood | prompts in bold!

The party was cornered when you found them.

They were trapped against the edge of the cabin, a Demogorgon towering over them. El was unconscious in Max's arms, Dustin was kneeling beside them, trying to reach for any help via his walkie, Lucas, Will and Mike shielding them on all sides.

Steve was at the forefront, knuckles near white as he gripped his infamous bat.

The self-sacrificial lamb, the self-appointed human shield.

And you were tired of it.

You were tired of seeing your best friend getting hurt, of him acting like he was expendable, that it didn't matter how badly beaten he got as long as he could save someone else, careless of his own life as if being at the battlefront was all he was born for, a penance.

So then came an idea—an exceptionally stupid idea.

But it was good enough.

"Hey, tooth decay!" you shouted, grip tightening on the kitchen knife you'd grabbed out of panic when you caught wind of Dustin's call on the radio. With a sharp breath, you cut across your palm, hissing as blood dripped down your fingertips, thick and crimson. You held it out, grinning when the Demogorgon started to look for the smell. "Heard you have some sort of iron deficiency!"

"What the fuck are you doing!" Steve yelled, and you wanted to flick his ear for trying to ruin your spontaneously dangerous plan.

Though a split second later, you could see it on his face, the realization of exactly what it was you were doing.

You slowly backed away when the monster turned, keeping your hand out to ensure your role: the bait.

"Get them to safety!" you called out when it finally walked to you.

"NO!"

It lunged.

You ran.

Hand stinging and tainted red, heart pumping in your ears, in sync with your fast pace, motivated by the much heavier footfall behind you, claws tearing into the ground, growing nearer and—

You yelped when a branch caught your foot, breath knocked out of you when you landed on your front. With gritted teeth, you crawled towards the knife, whimpering as you turned your body and rested your back against the tree, blade wielded, a poor attempt at defense.

After all, what would one kitchen knife do compared to hundreds of it in the Demogorgon's mouth alone?

The next thing you felt was sharp claws across your stomach, a shrilling scream leaving your lips, muffled by the ringing in your ears.

There was a shout of your name, a series of gunshots, a collection of footsteps, and then, everything went dark.

•••

The light came back in the form of constant beeping.

You groaned, lifting your hand to rub your eyes only to stop when you couldn't move it. Something heavy was on top of it. Blinking away the drowsiness, only then did you notice the rough fingers interlocked with yours.

Slowly looking up, you saw Steve watching you carefully, features momentarily covered in relief before they hardened.

Before you could ask him what was wrong, he let go of your hand.

You ignored the sting in your chest as you watched him stomp toward the door and poked his head out. You heard muffled voices followed by departing footsteps. Steve walked back inside but stood at the corner of the room, arms crossed, jaw clenched, eyes deadset on the tiled floor.

A few seconds later, Dustin came in with a nurse and doctor in tow.

Steve never said a single word.

Not when they checked your vitals, not when the rest of the party stumbled into the room with relieved smiles and grateful laughs, not even when it was later in the night when everyone had gone home, leaving the two of you alone once again.

No, Steve remained in his corner, unmoving, quietly seething. Because if he were a cartoon, you could practically see his hair flowing as steam blew out of his ears.

"What?" you said, voice hoarse, tone teasing. "No, 'thank you for saving our asses' speech?"

That set him off.

Steve growled as he started pacing in front of your bed, wearing down tracks on the tiles. You carefully watched him as he tugged on his roots, harsh palm over his reddened face, chest heaving, fist clenched.

Oh he was pissed.

"Steve—"

"I'm so fucking mad at you right now," he growled, shooting you a glare.

"I can tell," you muttered, fiddling the bandage around your hand.

"I can't fucking believe you've done that! Y-You and your fucking self-sacrificial ass—"

"Well, sorry for taking your self-sacrificial title in the group. Didn't know you're so sensitive about it," you scoffed, eyes rolling.

"That's not funny," he snapped, pointing a warning finger at you. "That's not fucking funny."

"Steve—"

"You almost died!"

You frowned at the slight shake in his voice, your slight annoyance replaced with worry.

"You almost…you could've died and I-I thought—" Steve took a sharp breath, rubbing his face frustratedly as he kept pacing in front of the bed. "I thought I lost my best friend! I thought I lost you b-before I could…before I—"

"Steve…"

"Before I could even say I love you!"

You froze.

"I-I don't care if you hate me for this o-or if I've ruined our friendship or what b-but I just need to—"

"Will you shut up and kiss me?"

Steve blinked. One, two, three before he stalked towards the bed, palms rough yet gentle as he held your face and all but crashed his lips on yours.

The kiss was heavy, sweet, desperate, laced with worry and need, a touch of longing, hints of lust, overflowing with love.

You pulled away when you felt wetness on your cheeks, heart aching when you realized the tears were not yours.

"You s-scared me," he croaked, eyes screwed shut, reflective lines running down his flushed cheeks. "You scared me so fucking much."

"I'm sorry," you whispered, thumbs catching the tears before they could touch his skin. "Hey, I'm okay now. We're okay."

Steve nodded wordlessly, forehead pressed against yours as he tried to even his breathing. Clearing his throat, his voice was still rough as he whispered,

"Promise me you won't ever do that again."

"If it means saving your life and the kids? You know I won't hesitate to do it again," you said truthfully with a small smile. "And I know you'd do the same, too."

"God you're so annoying," he grumbled, though the corner of his mouth twitched. You were right, after all.

You chuckled, sound dying with a frown when you saw the already prominent, dark circles under his eyes.

You didn't know how long you were unconscious nor how bad it got when that thing attacked you.

But you did know Steve.

How he probably hadn't left your side since then, how his guilt had been eating him alive as he carefully watched over you, ears tuned into the soft beeps, his damning thoughts not giving him a moment of respite in fear that you'd suddenly be taken from him if he did as much as closed his eyes for a few minutes.

It made your heart melt and break in the same breath.

"You should get some sleep."

He shook his head, words of protest already on the tip of his tongue.

"Hey," you cut him off, cupping his face, placing tender sweet kisses on his lips. "It's okay. I promise you, I will be here when you wake up."

"You better be or I'm hunting you down and strapping you to the bed."

You wiggled your brows. "Kinky."

"I hate you," he groaned, face buried in your neck.

"I love you, too."

You felt his smile grow against your skin.

"Now, go to sleep. We all know you need your beauty rest. Your hair is starting to lose volume, Harrington."

"You're unbelievable."

⤷ still accepting asks & requests! come join and frolic with me!

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lovedrots · 2 years

Note

Hi! I loved your peter parker fanfic, it was cute and it melts my heart🥹 can I suggest a tony stark x reader where he finds out about Peter and the readers secret relationship?

Thank you in advance! Keep up the great work!❤️

i. to fool a genius

i . to fool a genius - dad!tony stark + stark!reader

synopsis : you ( stark!reader ) and peter parker have been sneaking behind the avenger’s backs for months, trying to keep your relationship from them – or, more specifically, from your dad, tony. but, it takes more than hiding on roofs and in closets, to keep a genius from finding your secrets.

warnings : swearing, tony raising his voice / being a mean dad at first, mild angst to fluff ! quick-paced / rushed dialogue.

a/n : thank you so much, lovely! it means a lot that you enjoyed my first post. i hope i was able to capture your idea well enough for a one-shot:) i have a part 2 for this in mind, regarding the last sentence of this fic. so if you'd like to see that happen, please tell me. <3

word count : 2,840

the avengers tower was silent, the only noise that you could hear being your own voice as you hummed to the melody of paper rings, the words replaying in your head over and over. the final song you had heard during your date.

you’d just returned from an outing with peter parker at the bowling alley, your face flushed, hair messy, and face absolutely glowing. sure, your arms ached a bit, as you’d over-exerted yourself in an attempt to beat your boyfriend in the sport. but, you could barely feel the burn over the butterflies in your tummy.

now came the difficult part.

the elevator doors opened with a click, and you poked your head around the corner, brows narrowing for any signs of your, rather nosey, family –

“welcome home, miss stark.”

you shot back, landing against the elevator wall, leaving a thud. “friday!,” you seethed, fumbling against the metal bar, pulling yourself up. “i told you not to do that today … or any, for that matter.”

you smoothed out your wrinkled t-shirt, cursing the poor a.i. for messing up your simple order. it was a little childish, to get angry with a machine. but, had tony been in the living room, things would have been bad. like, civil-war level bad.

you could almost envision it; the infamous tony stark chasing a poor teenage boy around the tower, shouting profanities, all suited up. steve would be there, scolding your dad for the ‘bad words,’ as natasha and clint enjoyed the show. lord knows where you’d be; probably locked away in your room, with no one but friday to keep you company.

all the more reason to keep it a secret.

“miss stark, i am unable to override your father’s requests. they are top-priority in my system,” it’s voice trailed you as you slipped down the hall.

you crossed your arms, walking a faction quicker, towards your room. “keep that up, and i’ll reprogram you entirely,” you threatened under your breath, unlocking the doors to your bedroom with the print of your finger. a stupid, dramatic addition to your security, but a much needed one. especially after a drunken thor and clint had snuck into it, one night when you were out, to dig through your closet and have an ‘avengers fashion-show.’ thor’s idea, after watching miss america for the first time.

needless to say, half your clothes were stretched beyond recognition.

throwing your purse on the plush bed, collapsing next to it, you whipped your phone out.

peter had left you a sweet goodnight message; one you didn’t get too often, thanks to the risk of someone seeing your phone. but, recently, the two of you had begun to become less and less cautious. it read, “goodnight, princess :) tell me next time you can go out please!! also, may says hi. she misses you.”

you giggled, kicking your feet as you quickly sent a reply of your own. “what a charmer. goodnight, parker. tell your aunt that i miss her, too.”

you crandled your phone to your chest, heart fluttering as you stared at your painted ceiling, a wistful sigh leaving your lips.

“in your teen-angst days, y/n/n?” a deep voice mused. steve rogers. “i remember when i went through that … it passes. promise.”

although you appreciated the words of encouragement, they sure did ruin the moment. you groaned, rolling onto your stomach. “uncle steve, i am not brooding.”

he rose a thick brow, leaning against the doorframe of your room. stupid you, for not closing the door. “then, why’s your makeup all messy? and your hair. you look like a mess.”

your heart thundered, a hand raising to touch your lips, lipstick likely smudged from the kisses you planted all over your lover’s face. “shit – nothing. just a failed attempt at a new online trend,” you quipped, unwittingly covering your face.

“you kids are so weird, you know that? you want to look like a train-wreck?” he shook his head, bouncing off the wall with a grunt. “i didn’t come here to banter with you about your fashion choices, though. tony wants your help. main lab.”

you rolled your eyes, making a beeline to shove your uncle out the door. “whatever, tell him i’ll be there. let me just wash this train-wreck off my face.”

by the time your face had been cleansed, hair had been brushed, the entirety of the crew was home, huddled up on the couch. it was obvious that you’d just been training; natasha’s hair stuck to her temples, and vision, ever the gentleman, was rubbing circles into wanda’s skin.

you offered the gang a wave, brushing past them, into your dad’s laboratory. you had always loved it, since you were a kid; the holograms and little gadgets laying around were more than enough to entertain you, while tony sat in meetings day and night. as a pre-teen, you even managed to fix up one of his small, failed projects during one of his trips. though it was tiny, it was enough to have him ruffle your hair, and praise your brains. “must’ve got it from me,” he had said proudly.

you wandered over to the desk, setting your cell phone down next to you as you sat on your favorite seat – a pillowy spinning-chair that your dad had installed when you were 5, so you could watch him work.

“you called?” you said, crossing your legs, peering over his shoulder. it didn’t seem like he needed any help; the man was meticulously deconstructing the helmet of his suit, replacing panel after panel with shinier, sturdier metals.

he didn’t even look your way. “hey, kid. you seen underoos around? he was meant,” he pinched a metal tool between his teeth, “to swing by tonight. i’ve got some new features in mind, too add to his little costume. and some to remove.”

“remove?” you raised a brow.

“he almost electrocuted himself with the taser-web feature.”

you bit your lip, a gurgle of a laugh almost slipping past your lips. “n – no. i haven’t. he doesn’t even live here, y’know,”

tony’s exasperated exhale had you chuckling. “trust me, i’ve tried convincing him and his aunt. friday? call ‘underoos.’”

no response.

“point break’s probably hogging friday again. i can’t believe i gave him voice recognition,” he grouched, setting his mask down. he eyed your cell. “may i?”

you mindlessly nodded, having picked up a project of yours, fiddling with the wires and snaps. it hadn’t been working for years; the teleportation panels couldn’t seem to fabricate, after the one and only time you tested it. what could you have done wrong? the code seemed fine, and nothing had short-circuited –

“so … ‘baby,’ huh?”

your spine went stiff, warmth seeping out of you faster than quicksilver. “sorry?” you swiveled your chair around to see your father, your phone in his hands, dangling it between his fingers, screen facing you. it read a simple text, from none other than peter. ‘baby, do you have the algebra homework? i kind of lost my backpack, lol.’

it didn’t exactly help, that you had a small heart next to his name.

you almost dropped your project. “dad …” you tried, stomach churning. “i can explain.”

“no need. i’m not stupid, kid,” he snapped, slamming your phone on the counter with such force that you knew it was cracked.

obviously not, you wanted to roll your eyes. he was a genius, in case he hadn’t noticed. but instead, you meekly nodded, playing with the hem of your shirt. this was probably the worst way he could have found out.

“what did i say about boyfriends? or, more specifically, boyfriends that could get you killed?” he seethed, looking you straight in the eye.

you felt your cheeks heat, eyes welling. “pete won’t get me killed! for fucks sake, he’s a hero. and he actually cares about me.”

“same difference. he has enemies, y/n. you know what they’ll do when they find out about you? they’ll take you, and torture you, and then end your life.”

y/n. he only called you by name, when he was angry. it was always kid, kiddo, or y/n/n. “what difference does it even make? everyone knows i’m your daughter, you have even bigger enemies, dad. and you trust peter!”

“not with my fucking daughter,” he emphasized, jaw ticking. “i made some mistakes when i was younger, you know. mistakes that lead to a kid when i wasn’t even ready. so, i’m sorry if i’m just trying to protect our innocence!”

you scoffed, getting up, snatching your phone off the table, nearly slicing your skin on the sharp metals laying around. “oh, so now you’re using the fact that i was a ‘mistake baby’ to get the upper hand? real mature, dad.”

“don’t try to turn this on me,” he rose his hands in mock surrender. “you lied to me. i don’t even want to know for how long. i told you, to wait until college. you're not mentally prepared! you don’t even know what love really is!”

“shut up!” you yelled, splaying your arms. “i love him! i do. maybe you don’t know anything about love. i mean, come on! you slept around with women for years, and ended up with me. it took you, what, fifty years to actually get married?”

oh, you’d hit a nerve. he stood, eyes aflame, the lines on his forehead prominent as ever. this was the scariest you’d seen your dad. even when he was playing iron-man, he was still tony beneath the mask.

but this was different.

he opened his mouth to speak, fists tight – but you were faster than his words. before he could watch the tears stream down your face, you sprinted out and down the hall, past the rest of the avengers, who most certainly heard every word said, including pepper, and into your room. you latched it from the inside, falling into your bed, the duvet never feeling softer than it did now.

tony was probably leaving the house to beat peter to a pulp. it was all your fault. you knew to be more carful, to keep a close eye on your phone, your schedule. to not let anything slip. so, how in the world did you manage to out yourself in such a stupid, simple way? you always imagined you and peter telling everyone together, in the future. when you could all laugh it off, and your dad would be happy for you.

not like this.

why did you have to say all that? you could have reasoned with him, but you knew you hurt him, out of spite. and it ached, knowing you may have reduced your own father to tears. you told yourself you would never, ever use his dark days against him. but you lied. you flung it all in his face, with such malicious intent. and you despised yourself for it.

though your vision was blurred, your nose stuffy, you found it in you to pick your phone up off the ground, the screen indeed cracked. you opened peters contact, more than relieved to find that tony hadn’t blocked pete without your knowledge.

‘he knows, pete. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to. he knows, and i think he hates you now.’ you clicked ‘send,’ pathetically clicking your cell off, not bothering to wait for your boyfriend’s – could you even call him that, anymore? – reply. you buried your face back into the covers, sobs and hiccups leaving in a string from your throat. your eyelids were so heavy. you didn’t want to hear anymore, didn’t want to see peter’s heartbroken face, when you would have to see him again.

so, maybe it was okay, when you let your cries lull you to sleep.

the sun was rising, when you awoke. it was an effort, to peel your eyes open; tears from the night before glued them shut, and you were almost content to keep it that way.

but a familiar knock pulled you from the depths of your depression. a pattern that you and tony had made up, to indicate that it was him at the door. normally, the memory made you smile. but now, it only had your eyes grow glossy.

you didn’t want to open the door.

“i know you’re in there, kid.” his voice was hoarse.

it broke you, in more ways than one.

you padded over, cracking it open to peek through the sliver. tony looked just how you felt, eyes red, puffed, hair a complete bird’s nest, a bit damp from his morning shower. but, even when clean, he looked distraught.

you pushed the door open farther, stepping aside. an offering, to hear him out. and one he took. he strode in, plopping himself on the edge of your unkept bed. though his eyes immediately found your phone, he didn’t dare touch it again, noting the long ridge that now ran through the middle of the glass. “looks like i owe you a new screen.”

he pat the space beside him, and you shuffled over obediently, gaze stuck to the carpet. you were fully prepared for a lecture. you deserved one, for what you said. never in a million years, did you expect yourself to be so crude. just remembering the moment had you blubbering all over again.

“dad – i’m sorry, i know you just want the best for me, and i didn’t mean anything i said! but i really like him, and, and i know, or i thought, you would be okay with it, since you like him, too! and you’re a great dad, i swear, i’m just sensitive, and –”

he hushed you with a gentle hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “kiddo, don’t beat yourself up over it. we both said things we … probably shouldn’t have.”

he paused, but the look on his face had you shut up and let him continue. “i do approve. of parker, i mean. he’s a nice boy, and definitely strong enough to protect my little girl. i just don’t want you to end up like me – but that doesn’t mean i regret what lead me to having you,” he quickly corrected himself. “i just don’t want you to resent that i wasn’t there for you enough, or didn’t protect your innocence when you were young.”

you understood, where he came from. even he, the smartest man on planet earth, didn’t know how to raise a kid. it was different from coding a machine. a machine, at least, would have everything planned out. it was as simple as writing a story; you knew where it’ll start, and you know where it’ll end. but humans? there are twists and turns, left and right, and there’s nothing you can do about it. there’s no ‘test runs,’ for children. you only get to use your judgment.

“i know,” you said quietly, but not unkindly. “but, dad, you’ve got to trust me more. i’m going off to college soon; you know i’m not really a baby anymore. i need to learn to take care of myself.”

this was one of the few times you’d genuinely seen your father cry, face-to-face. maybe even the first.

“how about i try that, yeah?” he said, weakly. as if he was afraid to let go. “i’ll start with peter. the kid … i’m proud of him. and you.” He rose from the bed, excusing himself, obviously too proud to break down in front of you. and though you wanted him to stay, to keep talking with you and to clear everything up … there would be a time and place for that. “you two make a good couple,” he nodded, turning form you to dab at his eyes. he rounded the corner, out of your room – only to backtrack and add, “but if he causes you any harm , i swear to thor, i’ll gut him like a fish filet.”

despite the shock still registering, you smirked. “not if i get to him, first,” you giggled through tears. tony’s deep laughter – though strained – was like the medicine to all your day’s problems.

you guys would be okay. it would be okay.

picking up your phone, you dialed peter’s number, a twinge of guilt churning your stomach as you recalled last night’s text.

he picked up on the first ring.

“y/n? hey, are you okay? is mr. stark okay? are we over?” poor boy, his voice was cracking nearly every other word. he sounded heartbroken.

“pete …” you cooed, shaking your head, though you knew he couldn’t see you. “dad’s okay. with you. with us.” … you opted to leave out the horrid fight you had, along the way. “so, no more sneaking in through my windows, yeah?”

you could hear him practically jumping off the walls, talking so quickly, so joyfully, that you could barely understand him. but it didn’t bother you.

after all, you were already busy planning a dinner, for tony to meet peter as your official boyfriend.

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 6 months

Text

Framing Escobar Chapter 5: Developing Scandals

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog festuring porn with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific Warnings: My terrible Spanish (I'm still learning) Some canon-typical violence/threat, guns, period typical sexism, no smut, lots of plot, Javier accidentally hurts reader physically, sexual themes, sexual tension, dead cat(yeah that moment), Javier Peña deserves his own warning. Let me know if I missed anything!

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You bolt upright in bed, sweat beading on your brow as you hear the blood-curdling screams coming from downstairs.

Connie.

Your mind races to yourself as you leap out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweatpants, a tank top, and force your bare feet into your sneakers. On your way out of your apartment you grab your revolver from the nightstand.

Javi looks at you in bleary-eyed confusion as you race past him, he’s topless, in his boxers, with no shoes on. You shake your head angrily at him as you pause to adjust the fit on your right sneaker. You don’t bother addressing him and fly down the stairs like the avenging twenty-something with too much ego that you are. Not stopping to think rationally about the probability of sprained ankles and potential murderers at the bottom of the stairs.

You’re at the Murphy’s apartment in a flash and your hand is already on the flat of the door as you barge in. Pistol extended, eyes scanning the room but the moment you see the Murphy’s you lower your piece. They’re staring in horror at something you can’t see yet.

“Connie? Steve?” You ask gently as Steve gives you a grimace as you cross the threshold. Connie slumps into his arms as the agony washes through her whole body, eddying out into ragged sobs against her husband’s chest.

Steve gestures with a tilt of his head to whatever horror has them both so visibly shaken. He returns his attentions to his wife, murmuring something you don’t dare try and eavesdrop to hear; he smooths her hair with one of his broad hands as the other arm pins her against him.

You walk a little further into the apartment and when you see the grotesque, very clear message, your stomach churns. Mr Puff, the Murphy’s cat is strung up, bloodied fur and mutilated body on display as he hangs from the ceiling. Whoever did this took their time, and they enjoyed it.

Bastards.

You seethe as you hear the sirens echo in the distance as you realise Steve has called in the cavalry, you tear your eyes away from the poor, bloodied animal and look up at Steve.

“It’s ok hon, go back to bed, and tell Javi not to bother, I know you can persuade him.” He says softly, his usually bright eyes were bleary with tears.

“On it Steve, look after yourselves.” You say, trying to keep the fury from your tone as you step back into the hall. You hear Javi’s door close as you’re half-way up the stairwell, his boots striking the wooden floors at pace.

You jog up the last few steps to cut him off, but you hit the top step just as he launches himself down the stairwell. Your bodies collide, his shoulder striking your chin as you fall back. Your arms reach out instinctively to grip the soft cotton button down at the collar. Your teeth clack together loudly in the small space, sending pain shooting through your gums.

“Puta!” Javi calls out as he hits you, your back hits the wall with a loud crunch. You feel the air leave your lungs as you see stars. Your chest burns as you squeeze your eyes shut. All you can see is the cat, as if the image is burned into the back of your eyelids.

“You ok hermosa?” Javi’s soft drawling voice makes you shiver, despite yourself. You realise you’re still clutching the fabric of his shirt and you practically throw it from your hands as you release him. Your head spins, there’s so much pain ripping through you as you try and make sense of what just happened.

“Fucking brilliant.” You groan as you inhale the intoxicating smell of the last man in the world – aside from maybe Escobar himself – that you want to see right now. But you can’t help the way your body reacts to being so close to him, your heart is hammering in your chest, your lips parted slightly, and your pussy clenches around nothing.

Pathetic

“Hey, hey, what’s going on? talk to me.” He breathes as you slowly come back to your senses, you’re caged against the wall of the stairwell, Javi’s body pressed against yours as you struggle to regain your composure, the slick warmth between your legs doing nothing to help matters.

“They killed the Murphy’s cat, strung him up, fucking awful.” You mumble, your heart hammering in your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut, you know looking at him will set off a chain reaction you won’t be able to control. His scent, the oppressive heat of his body, the pressure of his knee between your thighs, it’s all too much.

“Steve and Connie ok though?” He asks, his voice thick with heady desire, you know he’s drinking you in. You can only imagine how you look, no bra, nipples straining against the tight white tank top, the unhindered spread of your flesh across your chest. You can feel his breath fanning over your skin in hot bursts as he makes no move to pull away.

“They’re just shaken up.” You answer, your voice shallow and breathy as you remember the way he made you fall apart under him in a position not too different from this one. You remember the sweet taste of your pussy on his tongue, the way he moaned as you teased him, goaded him, came for him.

“You ok there sweetheart?” He asks, still pinning you against the wall, still not making an effort to move away, no attempt to distance himself from you. You want to kiss him, you want to use him to forget that gruesome scene, to fulfil a need you’ve had since you woke up alone the morning after he fucked you senseless.

“I’m fine Javi, go back to bed.” You snap, trying to keep the emotion and desire from your voice. Your eyes are still clamped shut; you know that seeing his glassy mahogany eyes will undo any shred of restraint you are clinging to. You need to remove yourself from this situation. You feel him shift above you and the slow, purposeful press of his strong nose against your ear makes you shiver.

“Want to join me?” He growls softly and you hold back the moan that threatens to slip from your lips, ready to betray your base desires to him. It’s so inappropriate, the wrong time, wrong place, wrong man, but you desperately want to say yes.

“No Peña,” You hiss. The sticky, wet, evidence of your desire between your legs makes you desperate, hungry, stupid. But sense prevails, “I’m going to bed, my bed, alone.”

“You sure?” He asks softly, his one hand falling to cup your chin as he angles your face to look up at him. You wince as the knock to the chin throbs a little under his touch.

“Yes, let me go.” You breathe, your skin tingling at the way his fingers ghost your skin, you want him so much, but you can’t. Not now.

“Open your eyes.” He orders and you can’t resist the hunger in his voice. Your eyes snap open to dark, swirling pools of desire, his mouth is set in a slack-jawed smirk as he watches you react.

“Javi, let me go.” You plead, your lips trembling as your knees threaten to buckle at any moment, you shove tentatively against his shoulders with both hands, but he doesn’t move.

“Whatever you want,” he grunts as he steps back, the smirk on his face only widening as you breathe out. It’s a flustered, pathetic sound. You try to attribute it to the fact you’re still winded, but you know it was more than that, “Sleep well.”

He moves out of the way, letting you pass him on the stairs, you jog back to your apartment as quickly as your chest allows. You slam the door behind you and feel the urge to scream in frustration, or maybe it was anger, you don’t really know. Nor do you care.

All you know is that Javier Peña has a vice-grip on your heart – and maybe more importantly you cunt – and he knows it.

~*~

You spend most of the day in the basement, Alanis Morisette and other female rock bands and solo artists filling the void you feel in your chest. You had offered to develop Steve’s negatives too, and his work is good, but yours has the mark of it being your lifeblood poured into the task. The passion and experience of this being your thing meant they are just simply better. The thought makes you smile, it’s a strangely warming feeling to have pride in your work, something only photography had ever given you.

You make sure to get the framing on the Gustavo and Pablo photos perfect, spending more time than usual, ensuring the execution is flawless for these ones. You hang the last of the photographs on the line as you hear the knock at the door.

“I’m developing! Can’t you see the light’s on?” You call out, the irritation in your tone unmasked and unfiltered.

You despair, everyone should know you don’t fuck with dark rooms. You’ll make whoever is on the other side of the door pay for it if they screw you on the final stage of development. Especially today, especially after the incident with Javier in the hallway, and the murder of the Murphy’s poor cat. Today you’re ready to swing at anyone that so much as looks at you wrong.

“It’s urgent.” The muffled voice barks through the door. The handle jiggles as they try to enter the room anyway.

“It’s locked, I’ll be out now.” Your patience is running thin as you pinch the bridge of your nose, you leave everything in place and buttress the tip of your work boot against the door as you unlock it, anticipating the immediate shove that comes from the other side.

“Step back from the door Pendejo.” You bark, not taking any risks with the fantastic shots you had captured in Medellín. The pressure on your boot eases and you slip out, you come face to face with a Colombian police officer you don’t recognise.

“What do you want? I’m busy.” You grumble as you take in the hardened face, freshly shaven head, and pristine uniform of the man in front of you. His name badge reads Trujillo.

“Agent Peña wants to see you.” He responds with a raised eyebrow, when he was told to get the photographer from the basement he hadn’t expected a woman, let alone the twenty-something that had the gall to insult him in his own language.

“Ok I’ll be up when I’m done.” You roll your eyes, surely sending this man down to get you was a waste of his – and more importantly – your time.

“He said to bring you back up with me.” He falters for a moment, but you can tell he’s furious that you’re disobeying him.

“Well tell him that unless they want to lose the work I did yesterday, and that of Agent Murphy’s they can wait.” You snap, prodding Trujillo in the chest with your index finger aggressively.

“Fine, but Peña won’t be happy.” He glares at you for a moment before turning on his heel and walking off. You breathe out, the empowerment from telling a police officer to fuck off is exhilarating.

You slip back into the room and busy yourself with the final stages, cleaning as you go. You’re still exhausted and want nothing more than to just throw yourself in bed and sleep. You have tomorrow off; and a lie in, junk food, and time to yourself is exactly what you need.

As you leaf through the finalised images you smile, sorting them into yours and Steve’s work. You begin to slide Steve’s into an envelope when another, more urgent knock startles you and your eyes narrow.

“I told him I’ll be there when I’m done, what does he not get about-?” You’re cut off as the door opens, you realise too late that you hadn’t locked the door on your way back in.

But it doesn’t matter, not really, your work is done. But the door opens only a fraction before the lone figure slips inside, limiting the light that bleed through the door before its sealed shut behind him. The consideration mutes some of your rage, until you see who it is. Immediately your jaw ticks to the side as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Damn, you really pissed Trujillo off.” Javier’s voice cuts through you like a knife as he saunters over. Your pulse quickens and you hate how Pavlovian you are for this man. From the moment he had stalked over to you with Murphy just to tease the naïve tourist a burning desire had formed in your gut that you could not quell.

“Javier, I really don’t care, I’m going home, whatever you need to say, say it so I can go.” You say with a groan as you roll your stiff shoulders.

“Ok, but what’s with the attitude? I thought we were good?” He asks, his face growing stern as his brow creases and the curve of his lips press into a hard line. Ashamedly, the look of disapproval makes you squirm, his gaze boring into you as you try to keep your head.

“Because Agent Peña, I slept on it, and I don’t like being being played the fool.” You are actually proud of how confident – how self-assured – you sound, and you hold his steely gaze with your own.

“Is this about Helena?” He asks, his voice low as you watch his face contort in what you guess must be irritation.

“Of course it is Javi, and all the other women, prostitutes or not, that you are notorious for bedding and leaving hanging.” You say with all the fury and pain that had been festering for the last two days.

“Helena is the only other woman I’ve been with since I met you.” He protests but you know his heart isn’t in it, his tone is flat, sullen.

“And it’s been what, two days?” You bite back, your rage fully tapped into as you prepare a tirade of insults and abuse but then you realise you have something better. Something much more hurtful to say.

“I kissed Steve.” You admit, the nerves in your stomach fluttering as you let the admission drip from your lips like poison.

Immediately Javi’s eyes sharpen, his nostrils flare and the borderline growl he lets out is deep. It rumbles through his chest as he processes what you’re saying. The lighting in the dark room only makes his reaction more dramatic, his face is partially shadowed, and those impossibly dark eyes are almost black in the red light. He shoots you a look that’s outright possessive.

“You did what?” His voice is barely more than a whisper and you let yourself smile at the jealousy that’s bleeding out of Javi.

“In Medellín, I kissed him.” You repeat puffing out your chest as you speak, trying to look confident as your insides swirl with anticipation. You could already feel the arousal between your legs but you weren’t going to give in, not today.

“You making this up to fuck with me?” He snarled as he balled his fists, he was trembling slightly. You had almost hoped he would be cool with it, or at the very least not care, then you could move on, forget about the broken man with no feelings. But seeing him this wound up, this angry that you had kissed someone else shows you that he cares, and that’s more dangerous than you could have anticipated.

“No, but even if I was, can you see how it feels? How I felt when I heard you and Helena? It fucking sucked.” You say, tears forming in your eyes as you remember how utterly used, betrayed and cheap you felt. The realisation of his mistake is painted on his face, even in the eerie light of the dark room, it’s coming crashing down on him like an errant meteor.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Javier’s says as he runs a hand through his hair, his other hand limp at his side. You yearn to touch him, to comfort him, but you know he has to work through this, you can’t coddle him. He has to sit with this feeling if you’re to make it work.

“I hope so, because I don’t want this to be over, not yet,” You say as you have to stop yourself inching closer to him, “But I’m also not ready to forgive you Javi, I need time to decide if I can trust you.” You gesture between you with your hand and he reaches for you but you take a step back. His expression hardens and he nods curtly.

“Message received, I’m going to go beat on Steve for a bit, but you know where to find me if you want me, Bonita.” He sighs and walks out without another word, again being conscious about the light as he slips out of the door. The void left in his absence is sickening and you try not to think too hard about how much you wanted to just forgive him on the spot. The one silver lining in all of the pain that stabbed at your heart is his willingness to respect your boundaries.

One point in your favour Peña.

You think to yourself with a smile as you pick up the envelopes and head up to your desk. You see Trujillo on the way up and you think about what had been so important to send him to get you. Javi didn’t seem to feel the need to bring it up. You turn the corner and open up the office door and the sound of hushed arguing has you swimming in the bittersweet feeling of vindication.

“It was life or death Javi, back off.” Steve says with a bark as you cross the threshold.

“Sure it fucking was, what would Connie say if I told her?” Javi threatens and you smile despite yourself, you know Connie will find it hilarious and you were keen to fill her in on the gossip already.

“She already knows dumbass, god you’re such a fucking martyr at times.” Steve notices you as he speaks and the smile that spreads across his face is infectious.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” You say, your tone sickly sweet as Javi whirls around to look at you, “Just here to drop off my photos. Remember I’m off tomorrow, oh and Steve?”

“What’s up hon? Here to watch Peña get his ass kicked?” He asks with his usual bouncy cadence.

“Nah, just stopping by to say you need to work on your photography, I left you in the dust.” You wink and the laugh that erupts from Steve is delightful. You can see why Connie is so smitten with the man, even if he isn’t your type.

“Have a good day off hon.” He says with a shake of his head. Javier stares you down and you smile at him, he returns it sheepishly but immediately turns away and you feel the deep pang of sadness in your chest. For all his bluster, his womanising bravado, he does have a soft side and you felt like you’d just kicked a puppy. But something inside you is proud, proud that you set boundaries, proud that you made yourself heard.

You head home, practically dancing along the sidewalks of Bogotá as you celebrate your resolve, and the fact you had made the Javier Peña jealous. You stop by the local market and pick up some carb-heavy snacks, a few bottles of wine, some whisky, and some fresh oranges. You head to your apartment and put away the haul of snacks and booze.

You take a quick shower and put on a short red and black sun dress. You hate wearing dresses, but the oppressive heat of Colombia forces your hand more often than you’d like. You don’t bother with a full face of make-up, it’ll just end up running straight off in this heat, so you opt for some mascara and a splash of lip gloss before heading down to meet Connie.

Javier’s door is shut but you try not to think about him right now, tonight is supposed to be about you and Connie, a night to go out and let off some steam. You trot down the stairs, humming tunelessly as you reach their front door. You knock and Connie is out in seconds, her loose linen trousers and pink blouse stunning as she forces a smile.

“Hey Connie, let’s go dancing.” You say with as much enthusiasm as you muster, pulling a more genuine smile from the older woman as she takes your arm in hers. “I’ve got a better idea, let’s go get drunk.” She laughs and you head out onto the streets of Bogotá.

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stevenose · 11 months

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King Steve humbling your bratty attitude by following you into the bathroom. And when you say you have to go, he says, “So then… go?” When you shake your head, he steps forward, arms propped in the stall doorway. “I said. Go.”

:P He doesn’t move.

contains: implied reader with a vagina, but no specifics! watersports! mean!steve! bathrooms! don’t read if you are averse to any of these things!

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 kristen.

you roll your eyes at him. “do you have an obsession with bathrooms or something?”

it’s a lame cut. steve just stares at you.

“i’ve gotta use it,” you say, huffing. irritated with him. you’d like a single moment without him up your ass today. “didn’t come in here for you to make out with me.”

“then use it.”

“then leave?”

and when he stares at you, smirk growing, you realize.

“fucking perv,” you spit.

“what’d you say, honey?”

“anyone can come in here. it’s not a single person bathroom, steve, and it’s dinner rush!”

he rolls his eyes and scoffs - like you’re the one being difficult - and moves to the bathroom door to lock it. he moves the trash can against it for good measure, even though it isn’t heavy enough to stop anyone.

“steve,” you say again. “come on.”

he backs you up into a stall. stands there, leaning on the frame, arms folded across his chest. he’s staring you down. “come on. go.”

“why?” you ask. “you gonna get off on it?”

he moves forward, forcing you to sit, still clothed. you glare up at him when he grabs your cheeks to face him. “you fucking bet,” he seethes. “you’re gonna suck me off while you piss to make up for your piss poor attitude. understand?”

christ, if it doesn’t make you horny when he acts like this.

“you wanna piss your pants?” he asks, pulling his own down after unbuckling his belt. “or are you gonna take ‘em off? don’t care either way.”

#cw bodily fluids #stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #mean!steve

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ladykailitha · 11 months

Text

Here we go! The scene that started it all. The reason for the fic. Yes, the story is based on the song “Low Key in Love” by The Struts ft. Paris Jackson, but this was the scene that kept replying in my head until I wrote it. Also, you’ll need tissues. I cry every time I read this, sooo...

***

Let it not be said that that Alexander Harrington, known to his friends as Xander, didn’t know how to throw a party. When The Kings got signed his son’s senior year of high school, he threw the biggest bash the town had ever seen.

He had to invite everyone, of course. Though if he had had his way only the best people would have been able to come. But as he looked around his home satisfied, he figured it was a good thing to let the lowly masses see for once how the other half lived. Let them seethe in their jealousy and envy.

Steve on the other hand was miserable. He hated it. He hated Tommy. He hated Billy. And fuck it, let’s throw hating Jonathan in there as a treat. Because seriously what. The. Honest. Fuck? Where had he been hiding all that talent? Under a fucking rock? It wasn’t fair. Jonathan was naturally talented where Steve had to work so hard to get the moves right. Something Billy was always sure to mock.

He was sitting in his living room watching everyone have fun without him. People had long since stopped congratulating him on his record deal hours ago. Steve vaguely wondered where his father was. Probably smoozing with Tommy’s dad. Steve scoffed. He knew Alexander Harrington wouldn’t be deigning to talk to Joyce Byers or Neil Hargrove. One was working poor, the other was straight up trailer trash.

He could see Joyce talking to Jonathan in the corner of the room, rubbing his back and muttering comforting promises. Steve didn’t even think his mother had even stayed past greeting the parents of her son’s band before fucking off to get drunk off her ass in some fancy hotel bar. Portia Harrington did not mingle.

Steve got up and wandered in the direction of his room. Well, he tried to wander, but it was more like a beeline because no one even questioned his path or stopped him to say hello. In his own fucking house. Yeah. He was done.

He opened the door to his room and was shocked to see someone was already in it. The other boy had long brown, curly hair and deep soulful eyes. Steve gulped. He had never thought about how attractive boys could be until that moment.

Maybe there had been some fleeting crushes and even more fleeting glances at boys in the shower room or hot actors. But until this moment with this boy, Steve never really thought too deeply about it. He sure the hell was now, though.

“Hey!” the other boy said, whirling around to face him. “If it isn’t the man of the hour!”

Steve could smell the alcohol from here, but he wasn’t sure if it was that the boy had been drinking or if it was coming from the shirt the boy held in one of his hands. But now that he could see the boy’s face he knew exactly who it was.

“Munson, what the fuck are you doing in my room?” Steve spit out before his brain could catch up to his mouth.

Eddie blushed. His cheeks were already rosy with the alcohol but they burned red in embarrassment. “I was looking for the bathroom.”

Steve raised his eyebrow.

“Some asshole spilled drink on my favorite Dio shirt and I was trying to find a way to clean it,” Eddie said with a winsome grin, he held up the shirt to show him. Then he tried to take a step closer but tripped stumbling straight into Steve’s arms. “Did anyone tell you you have really pretty eyes?”

It was Steve’s turn to blush as he held Eddie up. “No. If anyone compliments me, it’s usually the hair.” He paused and cocked his head thoughtfully. “Or the ass.”

Eddie hummed appreciatively. “Both are pretty amazing,” he agreed, standing up enough to put one hand in Steve’s hair and the other on his ass.

Steve’s stomach swooped.

“You like that, pretty boy?” Eddie asked, pulling Steve closer.

He nodded and Eddie leaned forward to kiss him. Steve had been kissed and had kissed several girls up to this point, but this? This was on a whole other continent. It felt good.

Steve’s hands immediately went for Eddie’s hair, having been wanting to know what it felt like for years. And it was softer and silkier than he could have imagined.

Eddie broke off their kiss and Steve whined his loss. “Who knew Stevie boy liked the boys.”

Steve pressed forward and recaptured Eddie’s lips. Their hands immediately went for each other’s clothes, grasping and tugging as they tried to get at skin. They tumbled toward the bed as they scrambled to get Steve’s shirt and their pants off.

They land on the bed with a thump and a giggle. Steve’s shirt had gone and Eddie’s pants were unbuttoned.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Steve breathed, straddling over Eddie’s hips.

Eddie grinned, reaching up for him. “Then come get me, big boy.”

Steve leaned down to kiss him again, just then the door slammed opened and Steve’s dad stood at the door. There was no mistaking Eddie for attacking Steve, not with Steve on top. It was very clear that both boys were very into what was happening too.

Mr Harrington pulled Steve off of Eddie throwing him to the ground. He wasn’t a beefy guy, but Xander Harrington boxed to keep in shape. Tossing a surprised Steve took very little effort on his part. He grabbed Eddie and hauled the drunk young man out the back door. He tossed him onto the cold hard pavement around the swimming pool.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Mr Harrington sneered. “And if I see you back here before we leave for LA, just know I’ve got a shotgun and the best lawyers in the state.”

Steve who had been following close behind, rushed to Eddie’s side. He looked around for help, but of the few people milling about by the pool, none of them were paying this little drama any mind.

“And no son of mine will be a queer, do you understand?” Mr Harrington roared.

Steve tried to help Eddie to his feet, but Eddie kept shrugging him off.

“Eddie!” Steve murmured. “Just...please!”

Eddie looked over at Steve as if seeing him for the first time. He could tell that Steve hadn’t planned any of this. That Steve was just as distressed as he was about Xander Harrington’s rage. He let Steve help him to his feet and whispered. “Run away with me. Come find me tomorrow at the park behind the community pool.”

Steve nodded, a small, barely there movement. But it was enough. Eddie staggered away from the party, head pounding louder than his heart.

Steve showed up at the park picnic table, backpack slung over his shoulder, Eddie’s shirt in his hand. He managed to get it cleaned and dried so he could return it.

Eddie was already there nursing a hangover of epic proportions. He had dark circles under his eyes like bruises and red, puffy eyes. He whirled around to see Steve standing awkwardly at the edge of the trees.

“What do you want, Harrington?” Eddie snarled from the pain in his head.

Steve hesitated a bit before lurching forward with the shirt. “Um...you left this at my place last night. You said it was your favorite so I wanted to get it back to you.”

“So that’s where it went,” Eddie said, taking it from Steve gingerly, unsure were this bout of kindness was coming from.

“You don’t remember leaving it last night?” Steve asked, his voice cracking.

“Fuck, man,” Eddie sneered. “I drank so much last night I couldn’t even remember my own name this morning.”

Steve lips quiver. “You don’t remember any of it?”

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Wait I do remember being thrown out for kissing a guy. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?”

Steve gulped taking a step back. “No! Of course not.”

Eddie eyed him warily. He could tell Steve was lying. But it was a strange kind of reaction. Like Steve was just as terrified of him, as Eddie was of Steve. That couldn’t be right.

“Whatever, man,” Eddie sneered. “Just go.”

Steve took a step toward him and Eddie leveled him with a glare. Steve stopped in his tracks, tears welling up in his eyes.

“You really don’t remember any of it?” he whispered.

“Not a god damned thing,” Eddie bit out. He was starting to worry that he had seen something he shouldn’t have or done something he shouldn’t have. Because Steve was really starting to freak out.

There was a snap of a twig beyond the tree line and Steve startled like a wounded animal. He turned around and ran the opposite direction of the noise and Eddie tilted his head.

What on earth had that been about?

Jeff came out of the trees with McDonald’s and hot coffee. “Best hangover cure there ever was.”

Eddie nodded and took his food from his friend. Jeff spotted the shirt next to him.

“Oh hey, man, you found it!” he said excitedly.

Eddie just nodded and munched quietly on his food. And as he ate, his head felt better but there was a great big black void where his memories of last night were concerned.

Over the next couple of days he kept expecting Harrington to come back, but the boy remained absent. He didn’t even know why he was waiting. Or what he was waiting for. But he felt it like a hole in his chest.

The next time he saw Steve Harrington in person was when he was introducing himself to the band at the sound check ten years later at the Love Loud concert as if they were total strangers. Just further proof the Munson Doctrine is never wrong.

***

I’m tagging everyone from the Star Child main list

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#My writing #stranger things #steddie #rockstar au #song fic #star child #extra scene #ladykailtiha writes

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sweepy-stringbean · 1 month

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psssst wanna talk about the Erathia/cfdau Nancy chin scar? -Eska

*laughs, rubs faces, gets up to stretch* YOU already know this hehehrsshdjf

Alright, I take it back these are not simple. I am sorry.

My Erathia 4 nonsense -

OG Erathia 4 feat. Flayed!Moss w/ Tenar backstab, in post cfdau - For this film, intense method actor, Henry Creel is cast to be the EVIL BIG BAD VECNA. Everyone hates him, he's creepy, often wears the stupid bucket on his head, and if not that he finds some one-eyed mask. Nancy and Henry have an amazing tension, are competitive, and push each other's skills. They take learning to sword fight seriously and it's kinda scary to watch. In the big final battle between Tenar & Ged vs. Vecna, it's the crew Dustin, Nancy, and Henry. Robin, Steve, and Max have the day off since their characters are deliberately kept from helping Tenar and Ged by Vecna. With this being the last scene between Tenar and Vecna, the two just go all out, 110%. Unfortunately, this leads to Henry accidentally cutting Nancy's face with a dulled but still real sword. There is a moment when they realize what's happened, but from all their practice, they developed subtle nonverbal cues, and signals to continue the scene. Everyone is stunned and just lets the two get to a good break in the duel before intervening. Nancy fusses to leave her face be for continuity. Ultimately lets her face scar as a feck you to the media and tabloids. She's tired of trying to maintain being perfect and everything they push onto her. Insert cfdau Nancy POV angst about reconnecting with the character and seeing a stronger woman in the mirror, something something. Robin is FURIOUS upon hearing this. The battle turns out amazing but Robin seethes whenever she sees the clip of Nancy getting hurt.

Erathia 4 VARIANT 1/? (FLAYED!Tenar AU AU) - A what-if that I LOVE. I really have committed crimes against Erathia and her people for this one. ANYWAY, a key difference between Moss and Tenar being mind-flayed is that Vecna lets Moss have some control and puppets her as needed. Whereas with Tenar, Vecna has one shot, and KNOWS he has to lock her down. He must have absolute control bc he's awful. I imagine poor Tenar gets basically put in a dark mind prison (think the void Eleven goes in the show). Her body becomes Vecna's Nazgul. Brutal, emotionless, too quiet (only heard by her armor), is always staring, always watching, just creepy as hell. When Lark and CO go to confront and begin their plan to separate Vecna and Tenar, Vecna decides to give a show of power. Using a knife he cuts Tenar's face and receives no reaction from her. (GOD I HATE HIM. I LOVE TO HATE HIM).

Listen I love dramatics and I have a long commute everyday to think about this stuff.

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yikesharringrove · 2 years

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Jealous Billy prompt? 💥

Him and Steve had this relationship that was mostly sex, but it ended because of a bad fight (Steve had feelings and so did Billy but he didn’t wanna accept them.) Now they have to face each other again because Billy got dragged into the Vecna stuff with the other four, but it’s awful because he can’t take his eyes off of Steve who clearly has a thing with Eddie (The two have slept together couple of times before so it’s not just flirting around, there’s really something there) and well, a fight happens. FEELINGS happen. Billy’s just, very jealous.

“It was very metal, is all I’m saying.”

Billy was seething.

Walking behind Steve and Eddie the fucking freak. It was his own personal torture.

The Freak leaned over to get in Steve’s space, Steve barely placing a half-hearted elbow put to stop The Freak from climbing into his skin, but smiled at The Freak with a look that made Billy sick.

Because Billy knows that look.

That’s the look of Steve Harrington having a major thing for the guy he’s talking to.

He would know.

He had that look. For nearly six months.

And then the end of June came and Steve told him he loved him, and Billy fucking freaked, and said all this awful shit to Steve that still haunts him and means Steve gives him all these icy stares, if he even looks in Billy’s direction at all.

He knows Steve and that weirdo are fucking.

He knows because of the stupid black hankerchief hanging out of The Freak’s back pocket, and the hickies that Steve couldn’t possibly to hide underneath that fucking perfect yellow sweater.

He knows because The Freak gave Steve his stupid denim vest and Steve slid it on with this shy little smile that made Billy wanna tear out his damn hair.

It’s fucking stupid.

That he’s stuck trudging behind everyone, glaring at Steve interacting with The Freak.

He had Steve. He could’ve had more with Steve, but he was too chicken shit for that.

So instead of acknowledging his feelings, he broke Steve’s heart.

And Steve ran straight into the arms of The Freak.

“I hate this place,” Steve said quietly, leaning over closer to The Freak, meaning their conversations to simply be between those two.

“I know. We’ll get our weapons, and we’ll get right back out.”

Steve shivered, and The Freak brushed a hand in a comforting motion over his back, dropping the hand quickly and glancing back at Billy.

“He looks mad,” he muttered to Steve.

Steve cast one glance over his shoulder, looking right at Billy and scoffing loudly.

“He doesn’t have a right to be.” Steve was still looking right at Billy.

The Freak glanced nervously at Billy, like Billy was a bomb waiting to go off.

Freak’s not exactly wrong.

Billy would fucking love to punch his stupid lights out.

What does he have that Billy doesn’t?

(Apart from Steve, that is.)

Nothing.

His hair looks totally fried, like it would be crunchy to the touch. Everything he owns is ripped and torn.

And yeah, Billy’s poor too. He grew up in a trailer pretty much identical to the one The Freak sells drugs out of.

But he’s better at faking it.

He learned how to sew and repair the shitty holes that wear through his shitty things.

The Freak just wears the shitty things looking like shit.

“He’s not allowed to be mad at either of us. And he’s not allowed to be mad at my fucking happiness.” Steve turned back to face forward, and The Freak gave Billy another weary look before facing front as well.

“That’s right, Freak. Mind your own business.”

Before Billy could realize, Steve turned to face him, making Billy stop dead in his tracks.

“What was that?”

Billy huffed a laugh.

“Was just telling the Freak to mind his own fucking business.”

Steve clenched his jaw.

“Don’t. Fucking call him that.”

Billy laughed again, stepping closer to Steve, going toe to toe with him.

“Why not? He is a fucking freak.” Billy pushed Steve’s chest, but he stood his ground.

Billy doesn’t know if he wants to punch him or make out with him.

“Just because you two are happy little queers together, doesn’t mean he’s not.”

“Hey!” Robin roared stomping towards them. “Don’t fucking-”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve rolled his eyes, talking over Robin. “Because all those times you sucked my dick was super straight behavior.”

“Well, at least I don’t go around telling every guy that looks twice at me that I fucking love them,” Billy hissed.

He knew it would hurt Steve.

But he’s never been able to stop hurting the people he cares about.

“Alright, alright.” The Freak pulled Steve back a bit, stepping between Billy and Steve. “Any other day, I’d be happy to battle you for Steve’s honor, or whatever, but if you hadn’t noticed, we’re currently stuck in a creepy ass hellscape, so if we could table this discussion for later, that’d be great.” The Freak gave him a sarcastic smile, turning around to pull Steve along by his elbow.

Billy waited until Steve and The Freak were several yards away, trudging along behind the group.

“You need to let him go.” Robin fell into step beside him. “He’s moved on, and you’re just making yourself miserable.”

Billy sighed.

“I fucking know.”

“And you’re not making him want to forgive you.”

Billy didn’t answer, kicking at a rock at his feet.

Robin, knowing she made her point, skipped along ahead, catching up with the other four in their little pack.

If they got out of here alive, Billy was absolutely gonna fight that freak.

#this is the one that got deleted and i really liked it before but i CANT REMEMBER the specific details bc im stoopid #yikes writes #it was lowkey weird writing unrequited harringrove like this lol #harringrove #steddie #steve harrington #billy hargrove #eddie munson

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hawkins-losers · 2 years

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Hi, could you please write a Steve x fem! reader one with the prompt number 59? Thank you so much!

(“You won’t let anything bad happen to me, will you?”)

Protective!Steve? YES

Hearing your screams, Dustin’s eyes widened. ‘’Shit shit shit.’’ He ran back inside. ‘’Get your bat!’’ he called to Steve.

When Dart escaped, Dustin had called your boyfriend and his baseball skills for help. He had tried to trap him himself, but all attempts had failed, leaving the demo-dog roaming free in your house.

It seemed that you had found Dart as you stared at the slimy creature on four legs standing in your kitchen, eating some type of charcuterie meat.

What the hell was that?

‘’Y/N! Get back, Steve is here-’’

‘’Dustin Henderson, what the hell is that thing?!’’

‘’I-’’

Steve quickly took out his bat with the nails from the trunk of his car and followed Dustin inside. He had no idea what this ‘Dart’ looked like, but if he ate Dustin’s mom’s cat, that thing would not hesitate to make you his next meal. His heart was beating fast at the idea of you being in danger.

You saw him get into the kitchen, a spiked bat in hand and ready to swing. ‘’What the hell is that?’’

‘’A weapon that kills demo-dogs. Now, get back.’’

You stayed behind with Dustin, watching your boyfriend whistle to get the creature’s attention. You grabbed your brother’s arm as its head opened to scream at Steve.

Dart then charged at Steve, who skillfully swung at the creature, hitting it with his bat square on the side of its head. Shaking its head, Dart screamed again, but Steve hit it - harder. He swung his bat few more times until the creature was knocked out.

Steve breathed out, wiping his forehead. ‘’Next time you see a slug in a trashcan, leave it, you little shithead,’’ he told Dustin.

A slug? You didn’t know what this creature was, but it definitely wasn’t a slug.

‘’Can someone explain to me what is going on?’’ you asked, looking between both boys who seemed to know more than you.

‘’On Halloween night, I heard a noise coming from the trashcans when I came back from trick-or-treating. I discovered this little slug-like creature and placed it in my turtle tank. After some investigating, we concluded that it originated from the Upside Down. Yesterday, when I came back from school, I found that it had broken out of the tank and eaten Mews.’’

‘’That thing ate Mews?!’’ you exclaimed, your heart breaking at the tragic fate of your mother’s poor cat. ‘’But, you told Mom-’’

‘’I know what I told Mom!’’ Dustin cut in. ‘’I wasn’t going to tell her my pet slug from the Upside Down ate it! God, Y/N, she would have a heart attack or something. Anyways. When I realized Dart was dangerous and could open his mouth like a Demogorgon, I called in Steve to help exterminate it, but you found it first and-’’

‘’Eh guys?’’ Steve interrupted, looking around the kitchen for the demo-dog who was no longer knocked out on the tiled floor. ‘’I think we have a bigger problem than a dead cat.’’

Your eyes lifted and you saw the backdoor was open.

Dustin must’ve seen it too because he began panicking, realizing Dart had escaped. ‘’Shit shit shit.’’

Oh god. This demo-dog freely roaming the streets of Hawkins was a terrible news. If it ate a cat, it could eat other animals or...people.

Reading the expression on your face, Steve pulled you against him and wrapped his arms around you. ‘’It’s okay. Dart is gone.’’

‘‘Okay?! Dart escaping is not okay, Steve,’’ Dustin said, seething. ‘’The more it eats, the bigger it gets and-’‘

Steve narrowed his eyes at the younger boy. Dude, you’re not helping the situation.

“You won’t let anything bad happen to me, will you?” you asked in the hold of Steve’s arms.

He kissed the side of your head. ‘’Never. I’ll always look out for you, I’ll always protect you from anything, anyone and...demo-dogs.’’

Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3 @cursedandromedablack @Slashersimpfor @savagejane1 @wh0reforbucknasty @eddiemunson-slut @slvdsjjk @hehehehannahthings @dreamdancers-world @grace-loux @iamharrystyleslover @matildavol6 @Original_babababoo @eddiemunsonbby @notbeforelong @lexi-2004 @violetrainbow412-blog @tatespillows @alwayslexii @lilygreennn @milkiane @imahomeslice @bunnygrl16 @cwritesforfun @marauders3rawh0re @your-mom21 @parkersmyth @voguesir @milkiane @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @lilygreennn @alexxavicry @charlie-chick @wandamaximoffs-deadchild @horrorstreet @rmeddar123 @Pastel-abyss-x

Steve Harrington taglist: @dylanstilinskiposts @captainbuckyyy12 @valevalentyne @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @heizenka @eddie_munsons_girlfriend @scarlet-kazuha @uhidklol-26 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @swiftbyul @Fandomfaeryreads @harrys-tittie @tinfoilhat2719 @straycatarang @wayfaring----stranger @starstruckspring @fourlokiss @mi-amoree1111 @starshipsxx @ghoulishlygrey @bubsonnobx @truewdw1 @bubsonnobx @ohhrexella @Dreamtiara @pastelbabygirl19 @steves-robin @eddiemunsonbby @evanstanwhore

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve stranger things

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