God Damn It. This Is Awesome!!!!!!

God damn it. This is awesome!!!!!!

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

This part includes the Russian torture scene, so adding a warning for gore/violence just to be safe!

-----

Eddie comes by Scoops, once Steve gets the job there.

The first time, he laughs at the sailor hat for a minute straight until Steve rolls his eyes and calls back, “I'm taking my lunch!”

“Now?” Robin bitches. “Did you actually get a girl to fall for those ridiculous li-” She cuts off as she comes out of the back room and sees Eddie. “Oh. Huh.”

Eddie flashes a sharp toothed smile at her, and Steve rolls his eyes again and elbows him.

“I'll be back before the actual lunch rush hits this way,” he tells Robin, untying his apron and depositing it to the side of the counter.

To Eddie, he says, “Here, since this brought you so much joy,” and drops the sailor hat onto the top of Eddie's head.

Eddie gives a squawk and squirms around like he's trying to bat him off, though Steve notices he doesn't actually push him away as Steve adjusts the hat to his liking.

“There,” Steve says, shooting Eddie a teasing little grin as he steps back. “You keep that on the whole time, and I'll buy you lunch.”

“A small price to pay for a free meal,” Eddie says solemnly, but his eyes are crinkled a little like they do when he smiles, and he doesn't take the hat off the entire time they eat together.

—

He and Eddie sit out back behind Scoops, passing a cigarette back and forth. It's the end of Steve's shift, and technically he doesn't have to stay anymore, but he's not in a hurry to get home.

Dustin's away at camp, after all.

“Why the hell are you working here?” Eddie asks, sounding like he's been mulling it over for a while.

Steve snorts. “Needed to work somewhere.”

“Okay, fine, but haven't you done the lifeguard thing for like three years?”

Steve - didn't actually expect Eddie to know that, and he shoots him a little smile before he rolls his eyes. “Not a real job, according to my dad. It's just hanging out at the pool all day.”

Eddie scoffs. “Would your dad even know a real job if it bit him?”

“My dad's never really had to work for anything,” Steve mutters. “I didn't get into any of the colleges they wanted me to, so I needed to be taught a lesson. Pretty sure he was hoping it'd humiliate me.”

Eddie tips back, looking him over. “You don't look very humiliated.”

Steve shrugs. “Because I'm not. Yeah, sure, the outfit and the hat are stupid, but work is work. Ice cream makes people happy, I make people happy, it could be worse. Besides, he has no idea what I'm even making here. Every paycheck is a little more I can stash away where he can't touch it.”

Eddie's watching him very closely now, in a way that Steve's never seen before.

“How long have you been doing that?” he asks quietly.

“What, saving money that my dad doesn't know about?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.”

Eddie's face is serious - far more serious than Steve's ever seen him, than he thinks the situation warrants. Steve frowns.

“Since I got my first job, I guess? Anything I ask for from him comes with some kind of string attached, and I got tired of paying for it.”

Eddie's quiet again. “You've gotten in a lot of fights the last couple of years,” he says, slow and careful like he thinks Steve might bolt. “Lot of bruises.”

He clocks on to what Eddie's trying to get at, then, and a rush of relief washes over him as he hurries to set him straight. “Oh, no, my dad's not abusive or anything, just an asshole. He's never hit me.”

Eddie considers that. “Your dad can be an abusive piece of shit without ever hitting you.”

Steve licks his lips, takes his turn watching Eddie a little more closely. “Sounds like you're familiar with it.”

Eddie laughs, sharp and humorless. “Come on, man, you know who my dad is.”

“I know what people say about him,” Steve agrees. “But I've learned not to listen to rumors.”

Eddie flicks the cigarette butt off into the distance.

Steve gets out another one, puts it between his lips to light it. He takes a long drag, then - pulls his heart out of his chest, setting it between them before he passes the cigarette over.

Eddie's eyes drop down to his heart as he takes the cigarette, but this time he doesn't say anything.

Steve still doesn't ask to see his, even though he's tempted.

“You can listen to these ones,” Eddie says after a while. “They're mostly true.”

“You deserve better,” Steve tells him.

He looks over when Eddie doesn't say anything, finding him watching his heart. It's beating strong and steady.

“So do you,” Eddie says without looking up.

They sit in silence for a while longer, until the cigarette is gone.

Then Steve tucks his heart back into his chest and stands up. “Come on, I'll get us lunch.”

Eddie scowls at him. “You bought last time.”

“Yeah, but a conversation like that deserves a burrito bigger than your head, and I've got employee discount,” Steve counters, holding out his hand.

Eddie concedes, accepting his hand up.

—

Steve keeps making up excuses to buy Eddie lunch after that, every time he comes by at the end of an early shift or close to his lunch break on a later shift.

One day he gets them both pizza from Sbarro, and they sit at one of the sticky plastic tables in the food court. It's so small their knees knock together as they devour their slices, but -

But it also means that Steve can tuck his ankle up against Eddie's, hook his foot half around it, and have an excuse if he needs one.

He doesn't need one.

Eddie doesn't move his foot away, but he does shoot wide eyed little looks over at Steve like he's not sure whether this is a joke or not, and -

“Hi,” Steve says, soft and ridiculous and holy shit, he has to have something better than hi.

But apparently hi works, because Eddie ducks his head, looks back up at him with something soft and wary and surprised all at once.

“Hi,” Eddie says back.

And that's -

It's something.

—

Steve gets closer to Robin - their bickering has started to become playful, and even though her teasing's never been mean, now it sounds almost fond. She still gets annoyed when customers watch them work in complete sync and think they're a couple, but now she just rolls her eyes and complains to him later instead of throwing things off by trying to protest it.

It's nice. He thinks he might be winning her over, and it makes the days pass a lot quicker.

—

He doesn't see Eddie for a week after their pizza lunch.

He tries not to think much about it, just tells himself that if he hasn't seen him by the time Dustin comes back from camp, he'll call him.

—

This isn't like any beating he's taken before.

Steve'd thought he was prepared. He was prepared, at least in the beginning. Billy did just as much damage, even if it was in a shorter span of time, and the ache in his ribs and stomach and face is familiar.

He can handle it.

Besides, it doesn't matter how much they hurt him - protecting Robin and Dustin and Erica is more important than anything else.

"Let's take a look at his heart," one of the soldiers says. "See how honest he's really being."

Steve's pretty sure he makes a choked off little guh.

He doesn't want to let them anywhere near his heart.

But on the other hand - he isn't lying as much as they think he is, and maybe that will prove it? They'll have to undo his hands to get him to take it out, and he briefly considers trying to get the drop on them, but he has to concede that probably won't go very well for him.

It's not like they're really asking for his opinion, anyway.

They aren't making any move to untie his hands, either, and Steve's brow scrunches in confusion.

He sees one of them holding what looks like a mix of a gun and a taser. It - honestly, it looks pretty stupid, like a prop in a bad movie, and he wrinkles his nose at it.

They press it up against his ribcage, pull the trigger - and fuck, he jolts back with the force of it.

His chest splits open.

The shock of it makes him numb for a precious few moments, staring down at the gaping hole in his own chest. The pain doesn't hit him until they take his heart out. It feels like it's being carved out of him, ripped from his chest as though he were being mauled by a wild animal, and he has the somewhat hysterical thought that he shouldn't be alive for this.

His heart was torn out of his chest, and somehow it's still beating, erratic and racing.

"Hmm," one of the soldiers says, tilting his heart this way and that. "Feels real."

The soldier squeezes it, and this time Steve screams at the pressure tightening around his heart, making him convulse in his bonds.

The second soldier laughs.

"They're making such good fakes these days," the second soldier says.

The first soldier relaxes his grip, and Steve sucks in ragged gulps of air, too disoriented to really understand what they're saying.

"Much more sophisticated than patches and paint," the first soldier agrees. "What good would a spy be if he showed his real heart?"

"No," Steve protests. "It's real, come on, you can feel it."

There’s no sign of deception from his heart, but it's beating too wildly from the pain to really make a difference.

"We'll see about that," the second soldier says, handing a switchblade to the first.

The first soldier presses the flat of the blade against his heart. "Let's see what's underneath if we shave a little off?"

—

Steve doesn't really remember anything after that. He must have passed out, because the next thing he hears is Robin's voice, and he realizes he's in a different room, tied back to back with her.

His chest aches.

Everything aches, really, but his chest is the worst of it.

Steve looks down, sees himself solid and in one piece again. He might have thought the whole thing was just a pain induced hallucination if it weren't for the unstable beat of his heart. It's pulsing unsteadily, and he feels as though if he even breathes too hard, it might burst into pieces with the next beat.

But he's not alone now.

He's with Robin, and she makes everything better, and even though his heart beats too fast when he thinks of how much he likes her - it's the good kind of too fast, not the kind that makes him think his heart is going to explode.

He is pretty sure that his heart is going to explode, though, that they're probably going to die here. He knows Robin is thinking the same thing - he just knows, like going through Russian secret agent torture together has made them automatically on the same wave length.

They were heading towards being friends before this, he knows, wonders if maybe they could have ever been for real.

It's a shame he doesn't think he'll ever get to find out.

—

Dustin and Erica find them before Steve loses any fingers.

Which is good. He might not be on the basketball team anymore, but he still plays with Lucas sometimes, and he likes all of his fingers attached to his hand and not on the floor of a secret Russian base.

He tells Dustin that as they're escaping from said Russian secret base. Dustin looks a little pale, hugs him tight around the middle, which makes Steve laugh - it should hurt, he thinks, but he doesn't feel a thing.

The only thing he feels is kind of floaty, and the itchy, overheated sensation he always gets when he's had his heart locked inside his chest for too long.

When no one's looking, Steve takes his heart out of his chest.

His stomach turns.

Whatever he's feeling about it seems distant, too far removed for him to be able to react to it, but the physical sensation of his stomach heaving is present and accounted for.

It only barely looks like a heart. The shape of it is hardly visible, more like a double handful of the precut chuck roast he gets to use as stew meat, sluggishly oozing every time it beats.

The thought of putting it back in his chest makes his stomach heave again, but even like this, he knows he can't keep it out in the open.

He rips off the red scarf from his Scoops uniform, wraps it around his heart to hold it together, and ties it off.

There.

Now no one will notice.

-----

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @samsoble @persnicketysquares @cryptid-system @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse

More Posts from Samsoble and Others

samsoble

1 year ago

Steve had spent his entire life trying to be perfect. He tried to be the perfect son with sports and popularity, he even tried his best with his grades which was evident until his first major concussion. He tried to be the perfect friend to Carol and Tommy H., even the basketball teams and other jocks, by providing free rides, parties in his house, and being a listening ear for their teenage drama. He even tried to be the best Steve he could be after the popularity faded and the demons from the shadows of Hawkins emerged. Nothing was ever enough.

He wasn’t a good enough son that deserved not to be ignored or neglected by his parents. He wasn’t a good enough student to be allowed to get into a good college or even a local community one. He wasn’t a good enough friend to the people in High School and that’s why they left him.

Through everything though, he thought he was a good person afterwards. He helped the kids the best he could, he protected them with his life, and he would do anything to ensure the survival of everyone in the Party. He knew he was good at that.

Or he thought so until he saw Eddie wasting away in a hospital bed with handcuffs on his wrists and blood soaking through the bandages on the mauled skin of his chest. He tried his best to be a good friend that could support the Party until Dustin broke his heart into splinters for something he couldn’t predict.

“You were so jealous of Eddie that you gave him the most dangerous job?! You knew how harmful the demobats were and you sent him there for a reason! That’s why you didn’t let him go with you, you wanted Eddie to die!”

After all he’d done to be good, to be the person people could count on, to be perfect; he still wasn’t enough. The kids still looked at him as the mean boy of the town and if the kids did, what did the others think?

Did Mrs. Byers still see him as the teenage dirtbag that got into a fight with her son and got him arrested?

Did Hopper still see him as the scoundrel that drank underage and threw parties that upset the neighbors in Loch Nora?

How did Nancy see him? She was the person who actually saw him at his worst, the one who opened his eyes to his failures. Did she still see him as the guy that he never wanted to be?

Steve had worked so hard his entire life to be what everyone else always wanted him to be. He hid so deeply beneath fake masks and facades that he didn’t even know who he truly was anymore, he didn’t know if he ever had.

All he knew was that after their latest run-in with the Upside Down, he went home to an empty house. He ignored the broken glass and the damage caused by the earthquake. He only focused on the fact that everyone else was currently with their families. His parents were who knows where doing who knows what but they were together, the only family they had ever wanted.

Robin was at her place with her family, her parents probably doting on her after worrying for so many days. They’d let Steve in but he didn’t want to intrude more than he’d already had. Nancy and Mike were with their parents, Jonathan, Will, and El were with Joyce and Hopper, Lucas and Erica were with the Sinclairs and Max, and Dustin was with Mrs. Henderson and Mews II. Even Eddie in a pain-induced state of unconsciousness was with Mr. Munson.

Despite all of his efforts to be perfect, to be deserving of love and pride, Steve was still alone. He’d worked for years to be someone worth loving, hell, someone worth tolerating, and it still wasn’t enough. All he had were his friends in the Party and after his talk, nay the lecture, from Dustin, he wasn’t even sure he had them. If he didn’t have them, what did he have?

Depression, PTSD, chronic debilitating migraines, night terrors, and scars?

What was the point of anything if that’s all he had? Did he really want to stick around to find out just for things to worsen like they always did?

After years and years of trying to be perfect, Steve realized he never truly would be. The night he got back to his house after watching the rest of his friends reconnect with their families, he packed up the Beemer and left Hawkins in the rear view.

He was sick of the expectations, the disappointments, and trying to reach a standard he could never sustain.

He left his heart behind wrought with guilt at leaving the Party without any notice and leaving before he knew Munson would be alright but he had no choice. If he didn’t have the kids, he had nothing and that was something he couldn’t face.

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samsoble

4 months ago

idk thinking about how sometimes you have to show up for people you aren't that close to, because sometimes you're just the person who's there. sometimes you invite a new friend to a party and end up having to sit with them through a panic attack. sometimes you run into an acquaintance on their worst day and they need to talk about what happened. sometimes someone is crying in a stairwell and you're the only one around to ask if they're okay. and none of this is "trauma dumping" or whatever the fuck it's just being there for people because you're the one in the room with them.

71K notes View Post

samsoble

11 months ago

Soooo...what about a mentally (kinda) ill. Steve Harrington due to the abuse he has suffered from his asshole of a father (well both the parents but wtv),the fights, AND the goddamn motherfucking RUSSIANS!! And the party gets to know about some hidden secrets...

Tag me if you want it or have written it...

(I am working on it and contains

TW! :

Child Abuse

Mentioned Harrington's

Steve's trauma

Russians(🙄)

Rape

Homophobic slurs 😭

Comforting Party🤍

Etc..)

:)))))

~Serenity

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samsoble

1 month ago

staying close w people long distance really is about the mundane stuff. i get texts like "made quesadillas" "spilled mop water all over the floor :(" "lady on the bus has not one not two but three tiny dogs in her purse" andits like wow. i love you more than words can express

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samsoble

1 year ago

“Marry.”

“What?”

“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”

“Eddie, we’re not playing FMK; you’re supposed to be telling me his name.”

“Oh. That’s…. Joe Jonas.”

“…he’s literally from Hawkins. And he’s holding a hockey stick.”

“Nobody from Hawkins is that hot, man, no way.”

~~~

Gareth posts the clip to his personal TikTok. Before he can get around to reposting it on Corroded Coffin’s band account, it has more than 100k views. Things only spiral from there, because once the band shares it, the video goes more viral and ends up on the screens of the right people.

chiblkhwks: @harrington94 is social media challenged, but we’re going to make sure he sees this. Will keep you posted.

The comment is immediately overshadowed by a busy day of PR. A photoshoot to an interview to a radio show to the green room at the Fillmore in Boston, before an intimate pre-album release show for members of their fan club. Eddie has completely forgotten about the video entirely, but Gareth’s phone pings with a text notification.

“A response has been issued!” He declares to the room, still grinning down at the screen of his phone.

The rest of the band shares a collectively confused look, all seeming pleased to find they’re not alone in whatever they’ve missed.

“What?” Jeff asks for the group.

In lieu of an explanation, Gareth just flips the phone in his hand around to show a TikTok, stitched with the clip they’d made earlier that morning.

~~~

“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”

#Stitch

“Is… is that supposed to be a compliment?” Steve asks, making a pinched face as he laces up his skates.

“You watched the whole video. He compared you to Joe Jonas.” The girl behind the camera responds, but he levels her with an unimpressed look. She doesn’t respond, and after a beat, he sighs.

“Yeah, alright, I guess Joe Jonas is hot. I’ll take the compliment.” He huffs, standing to his feet and moving from the bench he’d been suiting up on toward the ice. The girl follows him, gliding toward the net once they're in the rink, never falling out of pace with him.

“Do you know who it is talking in the video?” She presses, and Steve looks unimpressed again.

“You mean the other hot guy?” He asks with a grin, then nods. “That was Eddie. I’m surprised you don’t know him, the Party listens to Corroded Coffin all the time.”

The video loops back to the stitched clip from Gareth’s initial TikTok then. Everyone in the room processes what just unfolded.

“The Party? Did… did Steve Harrington just make a reference to DnD? Or is that some sports thing I dont understand?” Jeff asks.

Freak raises his hand, indicating he’s next to speak. “Not only that, but his nerdy DnD friends listen to us all the time?”

“Did King Steve call Joe Jonas hot?” Eddie asks, visibly still trying to connect the wires in his brain that fried at Steve’s agreement. “Did he call me hot?”

All three turn toward Eddie, whose face is still reflecting the long form math equation his brain is trying to work out, and Jeff sighs.

“Well, boys. I think we’ve officially lost him.” He says, bowing his head. Freak and Gareth join him solemnly, making Eddie huff and cross his arms over his chest.

“You’re all so dramatic.”

“Gee, I wonder who encouraged us to be this way,” Freak exaggerates through a grin, before shoving a guitar into Eddie’s chest, just in time for Paige to open the door and summon them.

“We can have a meltdown over Harrington after the gig,” Gareth promises with a pat to Eddie’s back as everyone moves around him, exiting the green room and heading for the stage.

~~~

Riding his post-show high, Eddie makes a bold move in the CC band TikTok, commenting under the video Steve had stitched.

corrodedcoff!n: we’ll be in chicago 1/26 if @harrington94 and ‘the party’ are free 🎫

He only gets about 20 minutes of peace before Gareth is jumping around, proclaiming himself the greatest wingman in history.

“It’s an offer for free concert tickets made over social media, and he hasn’t even answered, Gare Bear.” Eddie tries to get him to relax, but he, too, is eager to see how the other reacts to the offer.

He wakes up the next morning to the answer he’d been waiting on, and his stomach flips as he reads it over.

harrington94: only if you guys come to the home game 1/27 🏒

__________

Steve doesn’t even bat an eye when Max shoves her way into the locker room, b-lining straight for him.

“Can I help you?” He asks without looking up, unhooking the padding from his calf and letting it drop to the ground in front of his locker.

“Are you using TikTok to publicly flirt with Eddie Munson?” She asks, voice quieter than he’d typically expect from her, but he just scoffs.

“I’m just being friendly! You’re the one who started this in the first place! What, you didn’t expect me to log on and check if they’d responded?” He asks in response, freeing his foot from the skate, before placing a cover over the blade and letting the boot drop into the lower shelf beside his locker.

“I’m just confused because you’ve been super weird about coming out, and now you’re out here hitting on a rockstar all over social media, that’s all.” Max says, and Steve freezes for a moment.

“Do you…” he trails off, before closing his eyes and rubbing a thumb into his temple. “You really think I just accidentally came out?”

“You called Joe Jonas and Eddie Munson hot, encouraged this rockstar to come to your game when he’s in town and also accepted tickets to see him perform, Steve.” Max was monotone, and held her hands up defensively when he groaned. “I’m not starting anything, I’m just saying that this could get blown out of proportion now.”

They discuss a little further, deciding neither of them will publicly acknowledge anything that’s been posted to the account for now, until they actually come up with a plan.

Once he’s in his car heading home, Steve calls Robin.

“Dingus,” she greets, as always, and he lets out a grumble. “Uh oh. What happened?”

“I think I accidentally came out on the internet, and it’s Eddie Munson’s fault.” He’s met with several seconds of silence as he starts his car on the path to him and Robin’s shared apartment.

“Eddie, the drug dealer from high school?” Robin eventually asks, confused, and Steve groans again.

“Yeah. He uh, also is in a band?” He supplies, and Robin’s quiet for a moment as she processes. Then, he hears the tapping of a keyboard. “What are you doing?”

“Looking Eddie up, obviously.” Steve can practically see her eye roll, even though they’re not FaceTiming. “You’re nothing if not consistent, I guess. Doe-eyed curly brunet.”

Steve scoffs. “You say as though you’re not the one currently waking up beside Nance every morning.”

He’s met again by a short silence, before Robin lets out a little puff of air, in a small laugh. “Thank you again for being so cool about that, by the way.” She says, before he hears clicking on her end. “Apparently, Eddie is out as bi. Corroded Coffin does a charity show for the Trevor Project every year, and he’s been to a lot of Pride events.”

Steve’s stomach twists with each new bit of information she provides, because a part of him wants to be that out, wants to be like Robin or apparently Eddie, freely sharing that part of themselves with the world and having no one give a shit. But that’s not how it works on so many levels for Steve. Beside the shit he’d have to deal with on the ice from certain other players, he had no idea how it would impact the team overall. There’s no way to gauge how fans would react, when there’s never been an openly gay player in the NHL. And that didn't even begin to touch on how his parents would react.

“Hey,” Robin breaks him out of his spiral and he realizes he’s been chewing a hole into his cheek. “I can hear how loud you’re thinking right now. Do you need me to come home?” She asks, gently, and he sighs.

“Please.” He mumbles after a long pause, and is grateful when he hears the jingle of car keys from the other end of the phone.

~~~

Robin scrolls through article after article once she gets to their place, pulling Steve onto the sofa with her and laying his head in her lap. Her fingers twist through his hair, doing her best to keep him calm as she reads up on the situation playing out to try and help gauge how big of a hole he’s dug himself this time.

“I don’t think there’s really anyone who thinks you were flirting with him. Not seriously, at least.” She tries to assure him, but he’d already seen the twitter posts to contradict that before she came over. He sighs and rolls onto his back, so he’s looking up at her, and shrugs.

“I kind of don’t think there’s any avoiding it, at this point.” He mumbles. “I’m not… I’m not ready to come out, not like this. Not on this scale. I think the only thing I can do is carry on and hope it doesn’t get turned into any bigger of a deal.”

Robin hums down at him, and continues to brush his hair back out of his eyes. “Okay. So you don’t come out yet. But don’t overcompensate for it, okay?” He scrunches his face up at her, and she types something into her phone before turning it back into his face. He immediately pales, met with a photo of him out with Heidi last year. With a black eye on full display, he looks miserable behind a fake smile.

“Low blow,” he grumbles, pushing himself away from Robin to sit up beside her, and she raises her eyebrow at him, still holding the photo pointed in his direction.

“‘Maybe they won’t notice or ask why my literal teammate punched me in the face at practice if I take a fucking supermodel out to dinner.’” Robin’s imitation is a little too good, a sure sign of too much time spent together.

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it!” He asks, taking the phone off of her and closing out of the image before locking it. He drops it back into her lap with a sigh. “I just don’t know how many times I can keep getting away with hiding it.”

“Well, it helps that Billy got traded out to LA. He would be insufferable about this, and would absolutely make everything 10 times worse.” Robin muses.

Steve sighs and hesitates for a moment before dropping his head back into her lap, curling into her. “I just want it to be on my terms, when I’m ready.”

“We’ll figure it out, and it’ll all be okay, no matter what. Okay?” She assures quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.

His phone dings with a new notification; Max texted him a screenshot from TikTok.

corrodedcoff!n: you’ve got yourself a deal 🤝🏻

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samsoble

2 months ago

Wrong Number, Right Person

938 words | no cw | i know i said i would do eddies pov but everytime i tried writing it it felt off :< | and so sorry this took so long!! i have a LOT of stuff going on personally

|previous chapter|

Robin snatched Steve’s backup phone from his hands before he could protest, scrolling through the messages with a gleeful smirk.

“Oh my god, Steve. You flirted with them.”

“I did not!” Steve lunged for the phone, but Robin dodged, hopping onto the couch to keep it out of reach.

“Uh, ‘I hate how funny you are’? ‘Okay but you have to say who you are though’?” She mimicked his voice in a ridiculous falsetto. “That’s textbook flirting.”

Steve groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “It’s not. I was just—curious.”

“Curious,” Robin repeated, deadpan. “Right. Because you totally put this much effort into every wrong number text.”

Steve opened his mouth, then shut it.

Robin grinned. “Exactly. Now—” She tossed the phone back to him. “Text them again.”

Steve fumbled the catch, barely saving it from face-planting onto the floor. “What? No. I already apologized for the wrong number thing. It’d be weird.”

Robin rolled her eyes so hard Steve worried they might get stuck. “Steve. You trauma-dumped about your terrible date to a complete stranger, and they not only listened but joined in on roasting him. That’s not ‘weird.’ That’s fate.”

Steve scoffed. “Fate?”

“Fate,” Robin repeated solemnly, pressing a dramatic hand to her chest. “Now text them, or I swear to god, I’ll do it for you.”

Steve hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen.

It was kind of nice talking to them. And they were funny. And—okay, fine, maybe a tiny bit intriguing.

He exhaled sharply and started typing.

Steve: so. about earlier.

Steve: i feel like i should apologize again for trauma dumping on a stranger lmao

The reply came almost instantly.

Unknown Number: nah, don’t worry about it. your suffering was highly entertaining

Steve: wow. glad my pain amuses you

Unknown Number: it really does. so, any updates? did you block the guy? change your name? flee the country

Steve: considering all options tbh

Unknown Number: i vote flee the country.start fresh. new identity.

Steve: you’re a terrible influence

Unknown Number: you have no idea ;)

Steve bit back a grin.

Robin, who had been shamelessly reading over his shoulder, nudged him with her elbow. “Oh my god, they’re flirting with you.”

“They are not,” Steve hissed, though his ears felt suspiciously warm.

Steve: still not gonna tell me who you are?

Unknown Number: nope. but i’ll give you another hint

Steve: …ok?

Unknown Number: i have two eyes

Steve groaned.

Steve: revolutionary. truly.

Unknown Number: i know, i’m so mysterious

Steve: you’re so annoying

Unknown Number: you love it

Steve’s thumb froze over the screen.

Robin let out a loud “Ooooh.”

Steve elbowed her. “Shut up.”

Steve: bold assumption

Unknown Number: not an assumption. a fact.

Steve’s face warmed.

Robin cackled. “Oh my god. They’re good.”

Steve ignored her, typing quickly before he could overthink it.

Steve: okay. if you won’t tell me who you are, at least tell me how you got my number

Unknown Number: wouldn’t you like to know, harrington?

Steve blinked.

Steve: wait. you know my name?

Unknown Number: of course i do.

Robin gasped. “Ohhhh shit.”

Steve’s pulse jumped.

Steve: okay now i definitely need to know who this is

Unknown Number: where’s the fun in that?

Steve: i hate you

Unknown Number: no you don’t

Steve exhaled, exasperated but amused.

Steve: fine. keep your secrets. but i will figure it out

Unknown Number: looking forward to it

Robin snatched the phone again before Steve could stop her, typing rapidly.

“Robin—”

“Relax! I’m helping.”

Steve grabbed for the phone, but she danced out of reach, hitting send with a triumphant smirk.

He stared in horror at the screen.

Steve (Robin): so when are you guys going on your first date? since you’re so sure steve loves you

Steve’s stomach dropped. “Robin.”

The reply came instantly.

Unknown Number: name the time and place. i’ll be there.

Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Robin cackled. “This is the best day of my life.”

Steve grabbed the phone back, typing frantically.

Steve: IGNORE HER. SHE’S A MENACE.

Unknown Number: too late. i already like her

Steve: …this is a nightmare

Unknown Number: don’t worry, steve. i’ll make sure our first date is better than your last one

Steve: you’re insufferable

Unknown Number: you’re blushing

Steve was, in fact, blushing.

Robin collapsed onto the couch next to him, wheezing with laughter. “Oh my god. You’re screwed.”

Steve groaned, throwing an arm over his face.

This was not how today was supposed to go.

(And yet—some small, traitorous part of him was excited.)

Steve stared at his ceiling, phone resting on his chest. He should not be thinking about this. He should not be smiling at his phone like an idiot. And he definitely should not be considering texting them again.

But.

He grabbed his phone.

Steve: okay. one more hint.

Unknown Number: bold of you to assume i’ll give in that easily

Steve: bold of you to assume i won’t annoy you until you do

Unknown Number: oh? so you are planning on keeping me around?

Steve: don’t flatter yourself

Unknown Number: too late ;)

Steve huffed a laugh.

Steve: fine. no hints. but answer me this—do i actually know you?

Unknown Number: maybe

Steve: that’s not an answer

Unknown Number: it’s my answer

Steve: you’re impossible

Unknown Number: and yet here you are, still texting me

Steve rolled onto his side, biting his lip to keep from grinning.

Steve: …shut up.

Unknown Number: make me

Steve’s breath caught.

Oh.

This was bad.

This was very bad.

Because whoever was on the other end of this phone?

Steve was doomed.

taglist: @ellietheasexylibrarian , @tartarusknight , @ravenfrog

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samsoble

2 months ago

There’s a tumblr post floating around somewhere that says “We think that if we get better at writing, it will someday stop sounding like we wrote it” or something along those lines.

Does anyone happen to have a link handy? I want to reference it in an advice post.

55K notes View Post

samsoble

2 years ago

After many years, my „first“ Day on tumblr again.

1 note View Post

samsoble

2 months ago

fuck it homebrew boop button. reblog this post to boop the person you reblogged from.

148K notes View Post

samsoble

3 months ago