Every Step Of The Way

I’m a huge fan of this gif of Dacre and Joe. What a bunch of dorks. ❤️

Steve’s dad is the kind of guy who would have a kid with another woman and leave the baby with Steve to take care of. Unknowingly, to his dad, Steve is hiding Eddie Munson in his loft. His dad just dropped the baby off and left. That's when Eddie decided to wake up from his nap. He stumbled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, and his hair a mess. He was missing a sock. Steve stood at the counter with a baby on his hip.

"Oh, good, honey, I'm glad you're up. I think it's your turn to take care of our baby," Steve said.

"What the fuck? How long was I asleep for? Am I still awake?" Eddie asked.

"I think someone must have wished really hard because now we have a baby," he said sarcastically, messing with Eddie.

"Oh my God!"

Eddie was panicking. This was his fault. Stupid. He just had to go and imagine Steve with his baby, a baby that looks just like Steve. Of course, magic was real. The Upside Down was real. Eddie wondered if a fairy happened to be passing by when he made his wish.

"I'm sorry, Stevie, this is all my fault!" Eddie exclaimed.

"It's your fault that my dad passed off his child he had with another woman for me to raise?" Steve asked with amusement.

The little girl started making grabby hands at Eddie.

"Oh yeah, that makes more sense. Your dad is a dick, man. Ugh. Also, you cannot fuck with me when I just woke up," Eddie said rubbing sleep from his eye.

"Mama!"

"Oh yeah, you do kind of look like her!" Steve giggled. "He had the decency to leave a picture of her for Rosie."

"Fuck off, Harrington. Look, I'm not your mama, kid," Eddie said.

"Mama?" She looked at him with big, watery eyes and a pouty lip.

"Aww, you hurt her feelings!"

"Ah, hell, come here," Eddie said and took the baby. "I'm sorry, but - "

"Mama!" Rosie exclaimed and started bouncy on his hip. "Mama! Mama! Mama!"

"Okay, question, since she brought it up, where is her mother in all of this?" Eddie asked.

"Abandoned her," Steve replied.

"Damn, kid, doesn't she know how cute you are?" Eddie asked. "Okay, if you're going to call me something, why not Dada? I'm a dude, Rosie."

"Mama!" Rosie said firmly.

"Dada."

"Mama!"

"Dada!"

"Mama!"

"Eddie, you're arguing with a baby," Steve explained.

"Dada!" Rosie said, looking at Steve.

"Oh, well, it looks like you got your wish after all, Eddie," Steve said. "We do have a baby."

"I hate you."

A few days later, the party had been gathered together to meet Rosie. Eddie was bouncing her on his hip, cooing at her.

"Mama!" Rosie grinned happily and grabbed his face.

"Yeah, that's right, I'm your mama!" Eddie said happily.

"Eddie, you're a guy. You can't be her mother," Dustin said.

"Aww, my little Rosie-roo, Uncle Dusty didn't mean that," Eddie scowled at him. "I am your mama."

Eddie blew a raspberry at Dustin, and Rosie followed suite, dimples appearing as she poked her little tongue out. Steve came into the room and Rosie squealed.

"Dada!" Rosie exclaimed.

"Man, I thought for sure that Steve would be the mom in this relationship," Mike said.

"We all did, Mike," Lucas said, slapping him on the back. "We all did."

sounds about right.

That episode of Friends, where they try on the wedding dresses. Well, Robin and Steve decide to make themselves feel better as they have yet to ask out their perspective crushes, so they decided to rent wedding dresses. Well, a suit for Robin. Steve and Robin are playing toss the bouquet when someone knocks on the door. Steve grabs the bouquet and answers the door.

"I do!" Steve exclaimed.

Eddie stood there, stunned for a moment, and then he grinned.

"No one told me I would be marrying Steve Harrington today!" Eddie exclaimed. "I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion."

"It's okay, I shouldn't really be wearing white. I'm not a virgin, and you totally knocked me up outside of wedlock," Steve told him.

"Well, I can't let my baby become a bastard, now can I?" Eddie grinned and flounced up the stairs. "I'm going to change!"

A moment later, Eddie came down in one of his mother's slightly poofy red dresses and holy shit. He looked good in it, especially with his hair pulled into a messy bun.

"Well, come on, let's get this wedding started," Robin said. "I'm officiating."

Eddie and Steve stood in front of her, holding hands.

"Alright, Buckley, let's get this wedding started," Eddie said.

"Mwawiage -," Robin started.

Just then, the front door opened, and the kids came stumbling into the living room, rambling about wanting Steve to take them to the big arcade out of town that just opened up. They stopped and stared at the scene before them.

"I can explain!" Steve said.

"Are you eloping without telling us?!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Well, it's more of a shotgun wedding," Eddie explained.

"What?"

"Apparently, I got your babysitter pregnant," Eddie said.

"Mike! You told me that guys cannot get pregnant!" El hissed. "Friends don't lie!"

Oh, boy.

i’m literally so in love with nurse stevie !! he and his clumsy girl are so sweet 🤍

i was thinking, what if she was having a pregnancy check up and it happened to be at a time where steve was on shift so he like races down to where she is and does the ultrasound himself and gets to see the baby and she asks why he ran down here or something and he accidentally says “i missed my girls” and she’s like “wait it’s a girl?”

idk just him doing the ultrasound himself and accidentally telling her it’s a girl is just asjsueked ahhh so fkn cute

AN | Okay but stop! This is the cutest and with how much of a loveable disaster these two are, I could totally see this happening 🥺 This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language, Pregnant!Reader

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite your best efforts, a small sigh escaped your lips as you looked at your watch. Steve should have been off by now - he realistically should have been off about an hour ago, but you were used to that by now. There was a still small part of you that had hoped he would be here for the ultrasound. You knew you could just take home the photos, but it wouldn’t be the same. There was always next time, but today you were halfway through your pregnancy and it felt like a milestone. 

When you heard your name being called by the ultrasound tech, you stood up and made your way over. You suddenly felt very pregnant with how long it took you to properly stand up and make your way over to her. At least you weren’t waddling just yet.

“Hello there,” Mary was sweet with a kind face and gentle smile. She’d been the one to help you out since the beginning and had always made you feel better, especially when you had a million and one questions, “no Steve today?”

“He was going to try and make it,” you explained and she made a small sound of understanding, “but it appears he got stuck past his shift.”

“The ER has been pretty busy today,” at least that confirmed your thought that he got stuck working late, “and you know how he is. Always going above and beyond for everyone and everything.”

“Trust me,” you grinned as you set your stuff down and moved to lie on the table which had become a friend the past few months, “I’m well aware. He’s being even more cautious than normal these days. I can barely lift a finger before he’s offering to do it or helping.”

“Well…” she was grinning in spite of yourself as you sighed dramatically, already knowing where this was heading, “remind me how the two of you met again? Something about a broken ankle?”

“Very funny,” you snorted in amusement, “I’ll have you know that nothing bad has happened in months! I’ve been very careful.”

“Mhmm,” she shot you a wink as you laid back and slowly began to undo the button of your jeans. Before she could say anything else, a frantic knocking came at the door, causing you both to pause, “do you want me to check who it is or let them know we’re busy?”

“You can check,” you shrugged, “don’t want to keep you from something potentially more important.”

She gave you a small smile before slowly opening the door. Mary almost laughed out loud when she found Steve on the other side, a panicked expression on his face as he tried to catch his breath, “hey! Hi, sorry I’m late - is she still here? Please don’t tell me I missed it!”

“We were just getting started,” she stepped aside to let him in, and as soon as he spotted you, he gave you a huge grin and visibly relaxed, “better check with your wife to make sure she wants you to stay.”

“He’s alright, I guess,” you teased, but Steve wasted no time before gently talking your face in his hands and leaning down to kiss you. You almost melted into his tender touch and the feel of his soft lips on yours. When he pulled back he was practically beaming, “on second thought, he can absolutely stay.”

“As if you’d ever say no to him,” you looked at your husband and shrugged, giving both of them a sheepish grin. She was right - you couldn’t fathom any situation in which you’d turn him down for anything, “ready to get started and see your baby?”

“Definitely!”

“Actually, Mary, I have a request,” you raised your eyebrows, trying to fathom what it could possibly be. He turned towards her so you were looking at his back and spoke softly under his breath, “I know we don’t usually do this, but do you think I can do the ultrasound today? I’m trained on how to do them and thought it might be cool, you know? But I understand if you say no…”

“You’re something else, Harrington,” there was nothing but playful affection lacing her words as she shook her head in amusement. He gave her the best puppy dog eyes he could muster up, which all things considered were pretty good, “alright, I’ll let you have at it. But this stays between us and if anyone ever asks, I was here doing it and you were just watching. Yes?”

“Yes,” he cheered softly, “you’re the best, Mary.” 

“Don’t forget that the next time I need a favor,” she shot him a wink before turning back to you. You hadn’t heard their hushed conversation and looked at them in confusion, “well, I gotta get going but I’ll be back in a bit. Good luck!”

“You’re going…what? I don’t-” but she was gone and out the door before you could say anything else. You looked at Steve and raised your hands in confusion, “wait a minute, what are you two up to?”

“Nothing at all,” he smiled innocently before reaching to grab something off the cart, “but I’ll be conducting your ultrasound today, Mrs. Harrington. Now, whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh Steve,” you laughed at  him, rolling your eyes playfully, “well then, I’m ready whenever you are, my love.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a strange feeling to be lying on the hard examination bed, with your belly out (which seemed to have grown overnight out of nowhere) and covered in the cold jelly. You’d already learned that it was definitely not your favorite thing in the world. But the moment was perfect with Steve right next to you. As ever, he was calm and patient, treating you with such gentle reverence that made you weak in the knees. Good thing you were lying down or your clumsy self might have actually fallen. 

“Let us see what we have here,” Steve brought out the wand and settled it on your stomach, causing a shiver to run down your spine. At first there was nothing for a few moments, which caused your worry and anxiety to spike, despite the fact that you knew the baby was one - definitely in there and two - had been moving around in the day. You waited with bated breath until you heard the sound of the small heartbeat over the monitor, “just as I suspected, we have - a baby!”

He turned to you with an amused little grin and you couldn’t help but laugh at him, “really? I thought we were getting a puppy! Is it too late to exchange it?”

“Ahh, sorry honey,” he shook his head before kissing your cheek, “I think it’s too late. We’re going to be stuck with a small human.”

“I guess I can live with that,” your eyes were glued to the monitor where you could see the blob that was your baby. They were moving around and you couldn’t help the tears that sprung up along with the wave of emotion that washed over you. It all seemed so surreal; you were having a baby. A baby with your wonderful husband. What a crazy world it was, “look at that blob. That’s our blob!”

“Oh honey,” he turned to look at you, a soft smile on his pretty features as he tenderly wiped away the tears that had pearled up and rolled down your cheeks, “it’s okay. Baby’s looking great!”

“I know,” you leaned into his touch, letting his large, warm palm engulf your cheek as you offered him a teary smile, “it’s just all so overwhelming, and I’m already all emotional, you know this by now. I just…I’m really happy, Steve.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he kissed you, not minding the salty of your tears, and you sighed wistfully against his lips, “I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, Steve,” you teasingly poked at your belly, “and you too baby blob.”

“They’re going to come out of the womb thinking their name is Blob!”

“Tell them to stop looking like a blob then,” yeah, it might have been a blob, but you were already so enamored with it, “does everything look okay? Honestly?”

“I would never lie to you,” he wrote down a few things in your chart as you tried to peek over his shoulder as if you would understand any of it, “you know that. Yes, everything looks good. Strong, steady heartbeat, measuring around the perfect size. It all checks out - that is a healthy baby, and mother.”

"Good," you let out a nervous sigh of relief, "I can't wait to meet you little blob."

"Halfway there."

"Halfway there," you repeated, suddenly feeling like that was coming on way faster than you wanted, "slow down there little one!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve knew you almost better than you knew yourself. You were already tucked up in bed, half-heartedly watching some movie on TV, but mostly trying not to fall asleep by the time he came into the bedroom.  He had a glass of chocolate milk and a plate with some cookies in his hands. Your face lit up with excitement - you'd just been thinking about a sweet treat.

"Is this alright?" He asked, setting everything down on the bedside table before pressing a kiss to the side of your temple, "I had a feeling you'd been wanting something sweet right about now."

"You are my hero," you looked at him with big, wide doe eyes, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. He tasted sweet; you just knew he'd already snuck a few cookies, "thank you, my love."

"No need to thank me," he pulled up the big fluffy comforter and crawled under it. He made himself comfortable before pulling you into his side. You rested your head on his chest and sighed wistfully, "how are you feeling?"

"Good," you promised, taking his hand in yours and lacing your fingers together, "today was good. I'm just tired, but that seems to be the new normal. But it's worth it - it was amazing getting to see the blob today. Thank you for coming, Steve. You didn't have to rush and leave work though, I know how hard you always work …there'll be plenty of other appointments."

"Are you kidding?" He scoffed playfully, "I wasn't going to miss it. I was already missing my girls too much."

"I - wait," you sat up and moved across from him so you were looking directly at him, "your what? Your girls?"

"Oh honey," a guilty, sheepish look crossed his features, "I-I didn't mean to…say that."

"We're having a girl?" and cue the waterworks. You most definitely couldn't help it at this point, emotions like a live wire as the tears rolled down your cheeks, "Steve?"

"Yeah," his smile was breathtaking as he nodded softly, "we're having a girl."

"Oh Steve!" you threw your arms around his neck and held onto him tightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He was surprised by your sudden excitement but melted into your touch as he pulled you onto his lap, "we're having a girl!"

"I'm sorry," his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, "I know we said we weren't going to find out, and then I realized today at the ultrasound. I didn't think that one through. But I also didn't plan on telling you…it sort of slipped out. Sorry, honey."

"I know that's what we said," you pressed a big, excited kiss to his cheek, "but I've been dying to know too. I'm not upset, Stevie. I'm just…so happy."

"Yeah?" There was a dopey, lovesick smile on his face as you nodded fervently, "me too, sweetheart."

"It just makes it feel more real," you looked down at your bump, running your hand over it. Holy fuck. There was a baby girl growing there. A small gasp escaped your lips as you felt a flutter of movement, "oh!"

You grabbed Steve's hand and placed it on the spot you had felt the movement and watched his face light up as he felt her move. You placed your hand on his and gave it a gentle squeeze. You could see his pretty brown eyes glittering with unshed tears as, "Hey, baby girl. We're going to meet you really soon. Your mama and I love you so much already."

She moved around some more, clearly wanting to make herself known, and that left the two of you both emotional fools, "she likes you, likes your voice. She's totally gonna have you wrapped around her finger."

"Well, her mother already does so it's only natural," he touched your face, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek, as he studied you, “you know, some days none of this feels real. Like…how did I get my dream girl and get all of this, huh? Seems more like a lucid dream.”

“Dream girl?” you rolled your eyes affectionately before lightly pushing his cheek, “you’re so dramatic. I highly doubt your dream girl ever was the fool that trips over her own feet, manages to dislocate her elbow…among other things. It was a happy circumstance that we met!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he insisted, pressing his forehead against yours and letting his lips brush over yours, “you are my dream girl, and you were worth waiting for. You might be my clumsy girl, but you’re also my dream. I mean it - you are everything to me.”

“You’re not playing fair,” your voice cracked as you wrapped him up in your arms, clinging onto him like a koala. You were lightly crying again, unable to control the hundred of emotions that were coursing through your veins right now, “you’re taking advantage of my fragile state.”

“Oh honey, honey,” you could feel the rumble of his chuckle in his chest, but you refused to loosen your grip on him, “it’s okay, just let it all out. I’ve got you - I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you were pretty sure that there was no better spot than right there in his arms, “you're the best thing that’s happened to me. I’m so glad I broke my ankle and got to meet you.”

“Baby,” he sighed softly, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “that’s…we would have met some other way, I swear it. But I guess…I’m glad you did too.”

“And now you’re my husband,” you pulled back and gently took his handsome face in your hands as he nodded softly, “and we’re having a baby.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, turning his face so he could press a kiss to your palm, “we’re married and having a baby.”

“Steve?” he never loved his name more than when you said, always so sweet and soft. He made a small sound, encouraging you to go on, “you’re my dream too.”

And he practically melted in your arms as he leaned in to kiss you, “glad we’re on the same page, sweetheart. But now, the important question is  - are you ready for cookies and a back rub?”

“Oh yes,” you practically groaned at the thought, “best husband ever.”

“I try,” he reached over and grabbed a cookie, taking a bite before offering you half, “I love you so much, my girls.”

“We love you too, Steve.”

somewhere only we know

a/n: i accidentally made this so long & ran with the request in whatever way my heart desired! hope this is enuf hurt/comfort for all ur needs <3 word count: 5.6k summary: You haven’t seen Steve in a few weeks, barely a couple phone-calls keeping your relationship beating. You assume the worst. Steve does his best to make it up to you. [hurt/comfort + miscommunication + established relationship]

It’s hard to not think he’s avoiding you.

Steve never seemed the type of boyfriend who would be foolish enough to ice you out without so much as a word about something being wrong. He wears his heart on his sleeve — more than anyone you know.

You’d also like to think you would know. That by now, all these months together, you’ve would’ve somewhat memorised the twists and turns of his emotions. But if he’s dropped any clues about being upset with you, you certainly hadn’t picked up on them.

You think you’d prefer his iciness to this odd avoidance.

It has to be that he’s upset, you reason. You would prefer he’s upset; that’s fixable, doable, and completely normal for a couple. The alternative is harsh, a cruel thread of insecure thoughts; perhaps Steve has suddenly decided he doesn’t have time for you.

And it’s a lot harder to pretend that thought doesn’t sting terribly.

Keep reading

Drabble Birthday Ask!

Reader finally 'catches' the thing Steve's been hiding... it's that he's tired. He's tired, and he thinks it's non-inspiring or embarrassing or a burden, and he has been acting weird to cover for that.

Steeeeeeb!!!! Yes of course some TLC for Stevie. Excellent. Would recommend. 11 out of 10. Always give him the peace and safety! (Don't hate me though; it's just a bit of established relationship fluff!)

I am uncharacteristically skipping the part where you confront Steve about this. Yes, that's right. Remain calm. Ro has passed up the opportunity to write an argument. Hold your applause. WC idk but probably 2k or less (bit of a surprise at the end, too 🤭)

It's so easy.

It's just so damn easy to lose track, to keep going, to repeat. One more conversation. One more chore. One more hour. One more day. One more.

More. Constantly more.

Steve is very good at giving more. He is consistent, constant, incessant, but you can see now that despite his unending strength, your husband can't hide that drawn, fragile look behind his eyes any longer.

Sometimes, that's life.

"Actually, scratch that shit," Tony says with a flagrant point to your face as you chat. "Life is always like that. I know what Big Guy needs, don't you worry. Consider it sorted."

This speed-date style convo tumbles through a ten-second-savoring of tea. You got one cryptic sentence about 'how you're doing' in before Tony perfectly translates your meaning.

For once, more is unnecessary. He knows.

Stark, however, doesn't even have a moment to finish the turn up of his lips in a smile before his watch is pinged.

His eyes focus to the inside of his glasses. "Go for the World's Most Fashionable Hero," he deadpans, wandering off with his mug clasped like a lifeline in his hands.

Yeah, you know that feeling. Wit's End must be as contagious as pinkeye 'round these parts.

Steve's been silent for the last hour of the car ride. He checks the address. He checks the map. He checks the road. That's it.

Music he usually hates has been playing for fifty-one minutes and counting. No reaction.

Clearly, you were right to ask Stark for help.

The gravel drive up to the cabin is bumpy, and Steve apologizes for having to go so slowly.

"Almost there. I think it's--yeah, there. Okay, we're here." Your husband flips the key back and out of the ignition, a stunted sigh forcing it's way past his tight shoulders, immediately opening the door and heading for the trunk. "I'll get the bags. You get the--"

"Steve? Will you come with me for a sec?"

He looks at you--really sets his eyes on you--for the first time since loading the car.

"What's wrong?"

You crunch up to the short staircase to the long porch. "Just come up here, please."

It takes another wave of your hand in encouragement before Steve abandons the small duffels and totes. He's not used to leaving a man behind. He's got a mission. He's supposed to finish the job. Always one more thing.

More. Constantly more. That's Steve's life, and he does it without complaint. Never, ever complaining, even when he should.

His heavy, tired feet fall hollowly on the wood.

"We're starting now," you chirp, excited to surprise him.

Steve tips his bodyweight to lean on the banister, crossing his ankles before crossing his arms, his head down while sneaking a squint-and-blink to try and bounce his energy back.

"Sure, what's first on the list?"

"Oh, no," you correct. "The list is mine. Those are my activities for the weekend. You are here."

His brow furrows. "What? You're gonna--"

"Steve." You gently hold onto his arms. "I mean, you have nothing to do. Not a single thing. And I don't care where you do it, but you will be doing nothing all weekend. Sleep in the bed, on the couch, on the dingy over there, hell, right here on the porch swing. It doesn't matter. It's your rest, but you must rest."

"What about--"

"Nope."

"Or if--"

"Uh-uh, definitely not."

Steve looks slightly panicked. "Dinner?" he tries in a last-ditch effort to be useful every minute of every day.

"There is a bag of stuff that I will be dumping into a crockpot and walking away from, so, no, you can't do that either."

He's still not sure, eyes glassy and flickering about.

"There's fruit for breakfast, veggies and dip for snacks, and we don't have to even turn on the stove unless we want to. Now--" you release him "--I'm putting stuff away and--"

Steve opens his mouth to argue.

"--and not one word out of you. Not one, sweets. Go. Be free. Sleep. Stare at the water, or a wall, or the ceiling for all I care, but you have nothing else to do today. Okay?"

His eye twitches, a half-hearted glare melting into a challenge in his tight jaw.

"Okay???" you prod.

His hands fling out in defeat. "You told me not to say a word," he whines, automatically making his way back down the stairs.

"No bags," you scold.

He whips around, almost muttering.

"No bags." You rush down and past him toward the car. "And I will bring you looser clothes to sleep in."

"You--"

"AH!"

"But--"

"What did I just say, Rogers?"

Now he just looks petulant, a familiar mood in your household.

You stubbornly point to the cabin. "Go on. Git!"

He watches you bring in the mindfully-light bags you packed up for the trip, pouting and scowling in equal measure.

Steve has to show off at least once by snatching up a bit of potato that rolled across the counter in the transfer of dinner.

Instead of thanking him, you shove a t-shirt and thin sweats at his chest.

He fakes an oof of surprise and traps you for a quick kiss before going to change. He does leave you alone for the rest of setting up.

Steve is dead asleep on the deep, two-seater porch swing when you head to the little work shed, his knees bent so he faces in, his forehead buried in cushion to block out daylight, already snoring softly.

You have to hold your hands to your chest so as not to touch him. Tears of joy prick your eyes seeing him relax so quickly.

Steve can follow orders when he wants to, you think with a smile.

In the garden shed, Pepper has all the cool crafting things, and you putz around with some wood pieces and paints for a couple of hours. You walk the perimeter of the cabin to find some nice wildflowers for a table centerpiece, mixing delicate stems of blue buds with expansive wisps of white and little pops of yellow. You attempt to figure out the dingy but decide against going on the water alone yet. Maybe tomorrow.

At no point does Steve move.

When you walk up to the house, fist full of flowers, he's out cold, softly swaying in the breeze as the gusts pick up in the afternoon.

You snack and listen to music in your headphones, doze in the bed after the sun warmed you a little too much, and then wake to the smell of stew.

The beep of the crockpot wakes him.

Bedhead and pillow mishmarks on his cheek look great on Steve Rogers.

Without argument, he washes his hands and sits at the reclaimed wood table.

Steve says only two things:

"Thank you" when you set a large bowl in front of him, and "can you pass the salt?" after he taste-tests the meal.

He reads a book until falling asleep for the night with you, curled with his knees bent again.

He does well.

He keeps resting, multiple times with his book open on his chest, barely to halfway after hours and hours of holding on to the browning paperback pages.

He rests in the bed. He rests on the couch. He rests (again) on the porch swing. Finally, he rests in your lap while you both float on the lake in the dingy.

He rests with you by his side. He rests with you in his arms. He rests even when you leave to do something else. It's exactly what you wanted, what he needed, and how it should be.

Steve mumbles a fair few things, but the most important thing is that none of it is important enough to articulate. He doesn't have to talk. He doesn't have to be heard. He doesn't have to be understood.

He only has to rest, and he's following orders well. He's completing his mission.

It is truly fascinating how close you can feel without words--okay, so you two aren't completely non-verbal for the weekend, but there are no long conversations. After being married for a while, those are not entirely necessary. You know each other too well for all that; Steve simply feels the stigma of being weak and tired from his youth.

He holds himself to a different, impossible standard. He thinks of it as pushing the limits of his serum, as offering everything he has to others, as respecting those he cares for by shouldering burdens. You think it's stupid.

It is the only stupid thing Steve Rogers does.

Now, after days of resting, you're pretty sure Steve knows he was being stupid.

You hope he knows he can ask for help or a break whenever he wants, before he needs it this badly.

To your great delight, Steve gathers up his things that were left around the house, but he leaves the actual packing to you. This is very helpful in keeping the final surprise.

He's watching the water, sitting up in the porch swing for once with an arm thrown over the back, an easy, calm smile stretched across his face, the first you've seen in months if you're being honest.

Steve gestures for you to join him, but you bite your lip and check the gravel drive.

Exactly on schedule, an engine revs and wheels crackle over the gravel.

You wink at your husband just as excited shouts ring out from Tony's fancy car.

"Papa! Papa! Look what Morgan and I found at the beach!"

"I made you a seashell necklace, Momma. You, too, Pops."

Your children race up the porch steps and jump into the space below Steve's arm.

His smile is still easy, but perhaps a little more excited than calm.

More. Constantly more.

But it's not all tiring...

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

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Joe for of Stranger Things Season 3 [Portraits] 2019

That was so cute

Uncle and nephew

How Eddie came to Wayne. This damn near made me cry, y'all.

Wayne hadn’t known what to do when his sister called him crying, her husband had been arrested again, and Eddie was nowhere to be found; at least so she though. Wayne knew she was drunk – probably worse than that – so he came running to her trailer which was just down the road of his own.

He screamed the kid’s name in hopes of finding him somewhere in the park, but to no avail. When he got to his sister’s trailer, she was sitting in the corner, knees tucked into her chest, still frantically crying. Wayne knew what had happened: Her useless husband had probably started some shit and things became physical quickly, leaving her with yet another bruise, another cut, or whatever it was this time. He had seen her in this state one too many times, feeling forlorn as to how to help her.

Wayne had made the decision then and there that if – when – he found Eddie, he would take the kid home with him. His sister and her husband’s presence was no safe environment for a three-year-old, and even though Wayne himself didn’t have much to offer, he would make ends meet.

Before resuming his search for Eddie, he called his sister an ambulance. Although he didn’t have it in him to comfort her, he still cared enough to let her be taken to a hospital to get the treatment she needed, his priority being Eddie.

Wayne found the little boy cowering beneath his parents’ bed, hands pressed against is face, shaken by the sobs that were leaving his mouth.

“Hey buddy”, Wayne whispered to him softly, “it’s okay. You can come out now, daddy’s gone. And mommy’s getting help now, too.”

The boy peaked through his fingers to look at his uncle.

Wayne didn’t have any children of his own, he wasn’t particularly good with them anyway. But somehow, he had always had a soft spot for the curly-haired, brown-eyed boy. He was looking at him, eyes blown in terror.

Wayne reached out his hand. “Come on, let’s make a deal. If you come out from under the bed, I’ll make you pancakes. How’s that sound?”

Eddie’s sobs calm slightly. He crawls towards his uncle. “Promise?” – “Pinky promise.” Wayne smiles as the boy takes his hand.

Eddie didn’t realize until late into his adulthood that that promise wasn’t just about pancakes. It was about his uncle doing anything in his power to keep him safe.

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 | 𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐞

“Does he ever smile?” you sighed dramatically, flopping onto the couch beside Peter.

Peter barely looked up from his book. “Derek? No. I’m fairly certain the last time he did, a solar eclipse occurred.”

You groaned, sinking deeper into the cushions. “I knew dating him would be a challenge, but come on! I cracked tenperfect jokes today, and all I got was a broody eyebrow raise.”

Peter smirked, finally lowering his book. “That is his version of enthusiasm.”

You pointed at him. “You get it! So why can’t he?”

Peter chuckled, setting his book down. “Because my dear nephew has the personality of a wet paper towel. But I’ll admit…” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “Watching you try to break him is highlyentertaining.”

Your lips curled into a grin. “Glad someone appreciates my comedic genius.”

“Oh, I appreciate more than that,” Peter mused, eyes glinting.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile. “Focus, Hale. I need to figure out a way to make Derek laugh. Or at least smirk.”

Peter hummed thoughtfully, then snapped his fingers. “Tickle him.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Derek’s a wolf. Wolves have heightened senses. Which means he has to be ticklish somewhere.” Peter grinned like the devil himself. “Imagine his face if you just… went for it.”

Your eyes widened. “Peter. You’re a genius.”

“I know,” he replied smugly.

Not even a minute later, Derek walked into the loft, looking—as always—like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You shot Peter a look. He arched a brow, silently encouraging you.

Alright. Time to see if Peter’s theory holds up.

With the most innocent expression you could muster, you walked up to Derek, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hey, babe.”

Derek sighed, already softening under your touch. “Hey.”

Then—attack.

Your fingers dug into his sides, wiggling furiously.

Derek jolted. “What the—?!”

He grabbed your wrists, scowling, but there was something else—a twitch of his lips, a barely restrained laugh.

“Oh. My. God.” You gasped, eyes widening. “You’re ticklish.”

Derek glared at you. “No, I’m not.”

“You so are!” You lunged again, but this time, he caught you, hoisting you over his shoulder in a warning hold.

You squealed, laughing. “Derek, admit it!”

Peter, still on the couch, was openly grinning. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years.”

Derek groaned, setting you down with an exasperated sigh. But as he turned away, you caught it—a tiny, barely-there smirk.

Your mouth dropped. “Wait. Was that—”

Peter clapped dramatically. “Ladies and gentlemen, she did it. She made the sour wolf smile.”

Derek shook his head, muttering, “You two are the worst.”

But you saw it again. That flicker of amusement.

Mission accomplished.

▸ Everything

@alexxavicry