Summary: Adjusting to life in Jackson isn’t easy. But making friends with one of school teachers certainly helps. Or, Ellie makes a friend and kind of sets Joel up.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!teacher!Reader
Word count: 9.4k
Warnings: mostly fluff, smut (piv, fingering), soft Joel Miller, good dad Joel Miller, protective Joel, some jealousy, post-season 1, mentions of past death, mentions of depression and suicidal ideation
A/N: You voted and I listened! Here’s the Joel fic! Thank you for reading! As always, I would love to know your thoughts! Please please please, be sure to leave feedback! 💕
“He’s quiet, huh?” You ask, scrubbing a rag over the counter.
“What’s that?” Tommy turns back to you. He’d been staring across the community hall at his wife.
You grin, amused, and meet Tommy’s eyes. “Your brother. He doesn’t talk much.”
Slowly, you cut your gaze to the table where Joel Miller sits, his eyes on his daughter across from him. There’s an affectionate smile playing around his mouth. One that only appears when he’s looking at Ellie. “His kid does though.”
“Oh, yeah, Ellie’s always got somethin’ to say,” he agrees. “They’ve been through a lot.”
You nod, “Looks that way.” You don’t ask what, just go back to polishing glasses. “You put ‘em up next to me.”
I usually don’t respond to the tags because I’m never sure if people want me to but I had to reply to yours because you pointed out my favorite line. Thank you!!! I’m really glad you enjoyed 💕🫶
Steve’s the kind of boyfriend that picks you up and twirls you around whenever he hugs you, he traces his thumb over the back of your hand, he refuses to hang up first whenever you’re on the phone, he sneaks in your bedroom window covered in scrapes from climbing the tree outside your house, he likes when you read to him and play with his hair, he whines when you leave his side for more than five seconds, he always gives you his jacket when it’s cold, even if it leaves him shivering, he gets excited and kisses every inch of your face because he’s ‘just so lucky that you’re my girl’ <3
give me eddie finding out about steve’s multiple concussions. learning about the migraines, and the loss of focus, and the impaired memory.
then give me eddie feeling guilty about the boathouse, because he sure as shit whacked steve into that wall pretty damn hard; had watched his skull ricochet off one of those exposed wooden beams.
had seen buckley hurry over and instantly go for the back of his head, touching it ever so lightly. remembers thinking it was weird, because he’d held a broken bottle to the guy’s throat, and she was worried about his head?
give me eddie pouring himself into learning everything about caring for someone with a migraine, so he can be there for steve. eddie becoming number 1 steve defender (behind robin) whenever the kids poke fun at him for being ‘slow’. eddie making a point to watch steve’s reactions to things, and always taking the same to check he’s following and explain things a bit simpler if he isn’t.
because he will feel guilty about that boathouse for the rest of his life, despite steve’s protests. will remember it during every migraine he cares for. so, he’s gonna make dealing with the aftermath as easy as humanly fucking possible.
it’s sudden and it’s terrifying and eddie has no idea what to do. one minute they’re all yelling and laughing and just playing d&d, and the next, mike is collapsing to the floor struggling to breathe. gasping out the same two names over and over again. the panic attacks eddie’s had before were never, never this bad. for a fucking awful moment he thinks he’s about to watch wheelerdie.
lucas stays with him, crouched by his side and talking in gentle tones. murmuring words of assurance that, while good, don’t seem to reach his friend. dustin had sprinted out of the room yelling into a walkie talkie as soon as mike went down, so eddie has no fucking idea what he’s up to. not that he’s able to focus on much other than the kid (because, god, he’s so young, what the hell has happened to him?) trying and failing to just breathe.
he tries the shit that worked for him, trying to get him to breathe in time with his counts, but it’s like mike’s ears are full of cotton. there’s not even a hint of recognition in his eyes as either him or lucas speak.
dustin returns exactly three minutes later, trailed by the last guy eddie would’ve ever expected to walk through the doors of hellfire club. steve harrington zeroes in on mike like a hawk, crosses the room quickly and crouches in front of him. lucas scoots away, visibly relieved to see steve, so eddie reluctantly does the same. mike’s knees are to his chest and he’s heaving sobs so powerful they wrack his entire body. for about thirty infuriating seconds, steve just watches.
“oh god- oh fuck- fuck- will, will-” mike is saying, through stilted breaths. “will, el- el- i can’t- they’re-”
“mike.” steve’s voice is like honey, low and soothing in a way lucas’ can’t be yet. mike snaps his gaze up, finally proving his ears work. “where are you right now?”
“hawkins lab-” mike chokes, and eddie just listens, dumbfounded. “hawkins- starcourt- fuck-”
“no,” steve says gently. mike stares at him, slightly less glazed. “where are you?” he asks again, a little more pointed. a few seconds pass. mike’s eyes dart around the room.
“hellfire.” he whispers, barely audible. steve nods, asks if he can come closer, if he can touch mike. the kid nods frantically, and then his hands are being peeled from where they were curled protectively against his chest. they’re placed against steve’s instead, and they spend the next few minutes breathing in tandem. harrington demonstrating and mike doing his best to follow.
his breathing eventually evens out, thank god, and the heart-wrenching sobs simmer down into quiet tears. mike all but throws himself into the embrace steve offers, tucking his head under the guy’s chin and seemingly making himself as small as possible.
“it’s okay, you’re okay.” steve promises, speaking into mike’s hair as he gently rocks them back and forth. “they’re okay. they’re just fine, both of them. you looked after them so well, bud.” he keeps whispering reassurances and sweet, kind words into the little cocoon he’s crafted. mike stays curled up there for a while, making a wet patch on steve’s shoulder.
then finally sounding more like himself, grumbles, “just ‘cos we’re hugging doesn’t mean i like you.” after maybe four or five minutes have passed. steve just huffs a laugh, because despite his words, mike is still clutching steve’s arms as he pulls back.
“of course not.” steve agrees. mike smiles as his hair is carefully ruffled. turns and reaches for dustin and lucas, who waste no time in piling themselves onto their friend. steve doesn’t go far though, keeping a hand in the hair at the nape of mike’s neck.
it’s only then that he finally makes eye contact with eddie, who’s watched the whole thing go down with a sick curiosity. because… who was this guy? this was not king steve, or the asshole, cookie-cutter jock steve harrington that eddie knew of. eddie had thought dustin’s nickname for him of 'number one babysitter’ had been an exaggeration; that maybe he’d watched them a grand total of three times back when he and nancy wheeler dated, and dustin had developed some fixation on him.
but… no, here he was. having brought hard ass michael wheeler down from easily the worst panic attack eddie had ever seen with the ease of someone who’s done it a million times. (and wasn’t that a harrowing thought?)
“you mind cutting it a bit early tonight, man?” he asks, softly, and it takes eddie a second to register that he’s speaking to him. “i know you’ve still got, like, 20 minutes, but-”
“no, no,” eddie cuts him off, kind of desperate for wheeler to get home and rest. “shit, man. that was… yeah, of course, take him.” steve smiles appreciatively (an annoyingly pretty expression eddie never imagined him capable of, let alone directing at him), and turns back to the kiddie hug pile.
“hey, boys? mike?” he calls, all gentle and warm. it makes eddie’s heart ache; even more so when all three turn to steve with big, shiny eyes. mike’s peek out from dustin’s arms. “how about we head off now, and stop at that payphone on the corner of glenview on the way home? give the byers a call in california?”
mike nods, hinging on desperate. dustin and lucas give him one more good squeeze before agreeeing themselves. steve corrals them all up, bids a fucking goodnight to the present company, (plus an extra one for eddie specfically), and shuffles them out of the room. eddie, and the rest of hellfire, are left stunned in the wake of babysitter harrington.
(when mike tries to apologise the next day, eddie absolutely refuses to accept it- and, at lucas’ timid request, writes the mind flayer he’d introduced out of the campaign entirely. the next session, it’s like the thing never existed.)
Summary: Bucky Barnes is the most important person in your life. When he confesses to you that he lives at the Avengers tower, and the ‘Steve’ you’ve been hearing about for months is actually Steve Rogers, you think that nothing can top that revelation– and then you find yourself trapped in Captain America’s bedroom getting a second-hand dose of NYC’s favorite new aphrodisiac, Mistress.
Notes: Bucky Barnes & Reader friendship, Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: Consent conversations, explicit sexual situations (they don’t succeed in resisting, folks), MINORS DNI
Fill: Masterlist for the March adoptable ‘Pheremones’ from @allcapsbingo
Steve making out with your pussy, his tongue greedily working itself inside of you, and his nose sliding in your slick and pushing against your clit on every upstroke. He’s groaning, whining, panting, and rubbing himself over the mattress. His big hands are wrapped around your thighs to hold you open — alternating between dipping a finger down to work inside your sopping wet cunt, also using two to spread your labia apart so he can devour every inch of you and your wetness. Occasionally he’ll bring your hands to his hair and encourage you to pull, loose tendrils tickling your inner thighs. He’ll lace your fingers together and hold on tight as you start to cum, but then he most likely has one hand full of his thick fingers to assist him in making you fall apart.
It’s not that he can’t just use his tongue (my god, the many times he has used that to devour and destroy you alone), it’s that he knows when it’s real good for you to have that added stimulation inside those tight walls, something to grab onto — it helps you crash harder. And Steve is greedy when it comes to you. There’s nothing like your pussy tightening around his cock or his fingers, fresh, creamy cum splashing out around his fingers and drenching his mouth and chin. God, there’s nothing quite fucking like it to him…
His eyes are blown to the wind, cinnamon flecks shattered in those midnight black pupils, crowing the space of his sclera. He descends upon you and you spread your legs, allowing, practically begging him to pet you through the aftershocks. Both of you are ready for more soon after…
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