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missingexaltation · 2 years

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This got way longer than I thought it would. Basically, a 'Wayne centered' steddie mini fic.

I love the dynamics that we could have had with this mini family, so this kind of threw itself together.

Wayne's seen Eddie with the girls he brings back home. Well, he sees the backs of their heads as Eddie walks them out early in the morning, past a Wayne who's thoroughly exhausted from the night shift.

Eddie always knows he's there, always offering a shrug and apologetic grin before practically skipping back to his room. Rarely the same girl twice, that Wayne could tell, but (more often than he'd thought possible, and doesn't he feel like an ass for assuming) dressed in that white and green cheerleader outfit.

Not that Wayne judged. He and his brother, Eddie's dad, had both been the same back in the day. The popular girls seemed to love a boy from the wrong side of town, and (unlike his old man) Eddie was a good guy under it all, so Wayne knew he was treating them girls right. If only for the night at least.

The surprise was that it was girls he was bringing home.

His friend Danny, who'd given Eddie the part time job at Thatcher's, had called it years ago. Said that Eddie reminded him of his brother, and that Wayne had better get prepared for the boy's teen years because it was gonna be rough. Sure enough, the moment Eddie turned thirteen Wayne had come home to find him packed up and ready to be thrown out.

God bless Danny Harris and his foresight, because Wayne had had a nice little speech prepared for a year or more, ready and waiting. And Eddie had soaked it in, those big ol' brown eyes grateful, relieved and full of tears as he unpacked again.

So sure, the girls were a surprise, but he let it go. Assumed the kid was happy with both, or either, and if he wanted to talk about it then he knew damn well that Wayne would listen. He'd done the difficult part already, the rest just details and semantics, and Wayne certainly wasn't going prying into his nephew's love life. It was safer anyway, for him to stick with girls for now. Or however long.

It wasn't until after the most horrific week of Wayne's life where he noticed things had changed. Eddie was home, a free man, an innocent man, and for his troubles had been relocated (with his uncle) out of the trailer park and into a nice, quiet and expensive part of Hawkins. Courtesy of some official-looking government suits.

They'd taken Wayne aside, given him some bizarre, bullshit story, and it wasn't until a few days later that he'd noticed his bank account was overflowing with compensation money. After the week he'd had, Wayne knew enough to keep his mouth shut, and life had seemingly carried on as normal. Neither he or Eddie had to work again, if they didn't want to.

Seeing Richard Harrington's boy in their new kitchen was more than a surprise. To his credit, the boy was cooking some breakfast thing or another, and trying to encourage Eddie to get his ass in gear for school. He didn't notice Wayne either, but Eddie sure did.

He remembered Danny's advice. 'Don't treat the boys any different to the girls, Wayne. Eddie'll pick up on that.' So he just waved a good morning and went to bed.

A few days later the Harrington boy was back again, herding Eddie out of the door as Wayne was coming in it. Noting the time, a gentle 'don't be late, boy' as the door swung shut, and that was it until the evening and Eddie was traipsing in from school. His mama's big brown eyes eyes looking at Wayne like a wild animal trapped in a corner.

Eddie had said nothing, hiding his face with his hair, looking for the world like he wanted to say something, until he yammered out some excuse and fled to his room to hide.

'That Harrington boy seems nice. Polite.' Wayne offered later, over dinner. Conversationally. Lightly. Apparently enough to cause a reaction, and as he'd never seen Eddie so red-in-the-face embarrassed he decided to drop it. Just a shrug and a nod in response.

He didn't see the Harrington boy for a long time after that. But he kept an eye out. The changes in Eddie were remarkable. Contrary to popular belief, he was a pretty quiet kid at home (guitar aside), but now he was reflective. Moon-eyed and lost in his own head. Practically floating from room to room and always with that damn smile on his face.

He realised that he'd not seen (or smelt) any of Eddie's drugs since they'd moved into the new house. A call with one of Rick's buddies confirmed that Eddie was out of the drugs game (finally, thank Christ), so he could only assume that this dopey, lovelorn version of his nephew was a consequence of something else.

Or someone.

It occurred to him that in all the time he'd known Eddie, having raised him and loved him and taught him as much as he was capable, that he had never seen his boy in love before. And now, noticing Eddie swapping out his electric guitar for his acoustic, seeing the sunshine glimmering under Eddie's skin and beaming from his smile, it was overwhelming. Adorable.

A couple of months ago he'd thought his boy was dead, or hurt, and it had damn near devastated him. And now here Eddie was, alive and very much flourishing. Learning some song (by ear) that he wouldn't have been caught dead listening to a few months ago. Having giggly, hushed phonecalls on their new landline when he thought Wayne was out of earshot. Constantly smiling, an actual genuine, happy smile instead of his usual theatrical, false grin that he used to throw Wayne off the scent.

He'd confessed all of this to Danny, one night when Eddie was 'out with friends for the night'. Despite everything he'd hoped, he'd never thought Eddie had had much of a chance. The world was too grim and constricting, especially Hawkins. He'd done the best he could, loved that boy with all he had, and prayed it would be enough to give Eddie the best start he could offer.

He'd heard the things the other kids called him, he'd witnessed Eddie trying to get stains out of his clothes, or sewing up holes caused by being shoved to the ground. He'd held Eddie close in his arms and let him sob it out after a really tough day. He'd patched Eddie up when things got really bad, and had quiet words with his teachers. By and large, it all washed off, and come morning he was always ready to face the world again.

So yes. He'd told Danny everything and he'd cried. Real happy tears, though, and Danny was real fucking nice about it instead of making fun of him. They'd been friends since school, after all. Hell Danny had known Eddie most of his life too. Like the uncle Wayne should have been, in a life where Eddie's parents had been capable of raising him themselves. They'd celebrated with a six pack and toasted to what was hopefully Eddie's big turning point.

It took Eddie a few weeks longer, but he eventually brought it up himself. Kid was nervous, obviously so, but nothing out of the norm. (last time he'd been so nervous, he'd been summoning the courage to tell Wayne he was repeating his repeat year).

'So me and Steve are like a thing.' He said, just blurting it out like he'd been overthinking it. Wayne had paused, finished his bite of casserole, to give him a moment to think. 'He treat you good?' He asked.

If he'd not seen the way Eddie headbanged to his music, he'd have been concerned with how eagerly Eddie nodded his head, almost giving himself whiplash. As if his enthusiasm was the factor that was going to convince Wayne of his veracity.

'Well. Tell your boy he's welcome here anytime. I need to see what his intentions with my boy are, after all.'

Eddie had made a face, like he was disgusted, but also gleefully pleased. Like Wayne had passed whatever test he'd been set.

'I'm gonna marry him one day.' He'd declared, sighing dreamily. 'He's so fucking perfect, you know?'

'Language.' Wayne admonished, and chuckled to himself. 'And no, I don't know. On account of you hiding him away every time I'm home. Bring the boy around, let me get to know him.'

And so he did.

And, a few years later, he followed through on his declaration and married the Harrington boy.

#steddie #wayne munson #eddie munson #stranger things rambling that apparently turned into a mini fic #steve harrington #i love the little Munson family dynamics that we COULD HAVE HAD #i also headcanon Eddie as bi or pan #to me he finds a person attractive rather than a specific sex or gender #(and Steve ticks all the boxes)#Wayne is such a sweetie...i love him...more Wayne in season five please and thanks #i love the idea that Steve's around loads until Wayne mentions that he seems nice...then Eddie is instantly 'i MUST keep them separate'

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chestharrington · 8 months

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Girls On Film || Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve's absentee parents gift him a camcorder for graduation. What better way to find out how it works than making a sex tape?

Couple: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Content Warnings: explicit smut (f!receiving oral, handjob, p in v sex ft. girl on top), sex on camera, filming a sex tape, lovey-dovey adorable dorks in love

Word Count: 3.7k

Your heart soared with pride as Steve walked off the football field towards you, wearing a goofy-looking gown and graduation cap. As soon as he reached you, he lifted you up and gave you a tiny spin, smiling ear to ear.

“You’re looking at a college grad,” he said with a smug smile after he put you down. You beamed at him as he lifted his hand and showed off the shiny gold class ring. “I’m never taking this thing off.”

You grinned, tugging at the graduation gown. “What about this thing? You willing to take this off for me?” You smiled wryly and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

A throat cleared behind you both and you turned, looking at the party and Robin standing with various levels of disgust evident on their faces.

Robin wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Keep it in your pants, please. Or, I guess keep it in your large, nylon zippy robe.” She squeezed between you and kissed Steve on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Steve.”

Dustin stepped forward next and gave Steve a big hug— he’d hit a growth spurt since you last saw him and was nearly as tall as Steve. Lucas, Will, and Mike all offered their congratulations combined with complaints about how boring the ceremony was after they got through the H last names.

Max crossed her arms as El wheeled her over, trying her best to be nonchalant. “I can’t see you, but I know you look dumb in that stupid hat.” Steve gave a fake laugh, took the hat from his head, and placed it on hers. “Ew, it’s all sweaty, you jerk.” She smiled despite herself and held the hat against her chest.

Steve wrinkled his nose in a way that told you he was trying his best not to cry. You knew it meant a lot to him that they’d shown up.

“Why don’t we all go for lunch?” You suggested. “My treat.” Not wanting the reunion to end, and not wanting to turn down a free lunch, everyone piled into their cars and headed to Steve’s favorite place.

When you and Steve got into his car, you were greeted by the shrill sound of his car phone ringing. With a furrowed brow, he reached over and retrieved the bulky device from its bag and answered. Even from across the car, you could hear the tinny noise of his mother speaking on the phone.

“Yeah, the ceremony is over,” he said, jaw ticking. “I sent you both the invitation two months ago.” He looked over with an exasperated look, so you grabbed his hand to give a comforting squeeze. “Well, we’re all going to lunch if you can make it.”

You frowned, but didn’t say anything. Despite their apparent lack of care, you knew that he valued their approval and time.

“Oh. Right, I understand.” He sighed deeply. “Well, I appreciate it. Okay. Okay, bye.”

He hung up and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They, uh, they got double booked. They’re in Buffalo for a conference right now.”

Your gaze softened at the sight of his disappointed expression. “I know they’re proud of you, Steve.” He nodded, but didn’t look entirely convinced. You pulled the hand intertwined with yours up and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

————

When you arrived at your shared condo, you were greeted by a gift-wrapped box on the porch. You had to help him carry it in through the door, huffing as you both dropped it onto your coffee table.

Steve shrugged off the graduation gown he was wearing and kneeled to unwrap the present. A large card taped to the top revealed the senders, as if that were in question.

“To our firstborn son— congratulations! Love, Mr and Mrs Harrington.” The emotionless text almost made you grimace. You’d never read something more blatantly written by a personal assistant in your life.

“Jesus,” he muttered as he tore away the wrapping to reveal the gift. “This thing must’ve cost a fortune.” You glanced over as he held up a plastic case and found nothing that might have revealed its contents.

“What is it?” You asked, kneeling down beside him and leaning in close. He popped open the case and held up a hulking piece of machinery.

“It’s a camcorder,” he said with a grin. “It’s the best one on the market.”

You raised your eyebrows and tried not to ask what he even needed one of those for. Video cameras were for new parents and aspiring filmmakers, not college grads.

Your own gift felt tiny in comparison, even though you’d been saving for a few months to afford it. Between rent for you and Steve’s condo, groceries, and gas for your cars, it wasn’t easy to have expendable cash to buy nice gifts with.

You stayed quiet as Steve marveled at the fancy gift, holding it up to his face like he was testing how it looked through the viewfinder.

“Gorgeous,” he said, peeking out at you. “I think I found my muse.” You scoffed and covered the camera with your hand even though it wasn’t charged.

“Plug it in and we’ll see how it works later,” you said. “For now… I have a gift for you.”

He sat up, wearing a grin. “Is it lingerie? Is it dinner at The Olive Garden? Is it a bubble bath?” He leaned in and nipped at your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, tell me—“

You giggled as he pinned you down on the rug, peppering kisses on your cheeks. “Steveeee,” you groaned. He finally stopped, hovering over you. “You’re such a spoiled brat.” That made him grin even more. He pecked your lips chastely, then sat back on his knees.

You scrambled to stand up and grinned. “Stay there, alright?” He nodded and you disappeared into your shared bedroom.

Hidden away in your bedside table was a glass trinket box you’d thrifted a few months ago. It was shaped like a heart, with little gold foil embellishments. You couldn’t leave without it. You knew the real gift was inside, but you still hoped that Steve would like the box.

Steve was fiddling with the camera when you stepped back into the living room, trying his best to plug it in to charge. When he saw you, though, he smiled and sat down on the couch, waiting for you to join him.

“It isn’t much,” you insisted as you handed it over. “I hope you like it though.”

He smiled and nudged your cheek with his nose. “Are you joking? This is adorable. I love it. I’m gonna keep all my important stuff in here.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Babe, open it.” He looked sheepish as he lifted the lid, then his expression softened. You watched with a fluttering in your chest as he lifted the chain from the box.

It took months to save up for real gold, and then for the pendants after. Two initials— his and yours. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back and get something you actually w—“

He cut you off with a quick kiss that made your head spin. “It’s perfect. Best gift I’ve ever gotten, hands down. And one year I got Yankees tickets behind the plate for my birthday.” He was quick to put it on, smiling over at you. “How do I look?”

You pecked his cheek. “A million bucks, babe.” He leaned in and gave you a real kiss— deep and intense. You smiled against his lips and melted into his touch. You’d never loved someone the way you loved him.

“Wanna know what’s crazy?” He said after he pulled away. You nodded and he gestured towards the bedroom. “I bought you something too. Stay here.”

You sat patiently as he got up and hurried into the bedroom. You heard scuffling and the sounds of moving drawers until he returned, holding a wooden box.

“Your gift is inside this, by the way,” he teased as he sat back beside you. You watched him with anticipation until he flipped it open and your heart stopped.

“So, uh, I got you jewelry too,” he said softly, or maybe your ears were just ringing.

Inside the box, nestled in the middle of a tiny silk pillow, was a diamond ring.

Like, a diamond ring. The kind you get married with.

“That’s—“

He nodded. “Yeah, it is,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Will you marry me?”

In lieu of a verbal response, you put the ring on and kissed him like he was your one and only source of oxygen. It felt like it anyway— that if you parted from him even a little you’d cease to exist.

“Yes?” He asked, smiling nervously. “That’s a yes?”

You kissed him again. “It’s a yes, Steve. I wanna marry you.”

———

Steve forgot about the video camera in the excitement of the engagement. Because he had to call Robin’s hotel and let her know, and then she spilled the news to the party, and suddenly it felt like everyone from Hawkins was in the tiny condo.

After hours and hours of catching up and celebrating the day, you and Steve were left alone in a quiet house.

“So… the future Mrs. Steve Harrington…” you turned and rolled your eyes at the sight of Steve holding the video camera that had been charging all night. “Anything you want to say to the camera on the night of our engagement?”

“How do you know I’m not keeping my last name?” You asked as he got closer, putting the lens right in your face. You giggled and ducked out of the way as the lens came close to knocking against your nose. “You’re such a child.”

He grinned. “Alright, give me something to remember this night by. For posterity, baby.”

You smiled wickedly at him before lifting the hem of your shirt, flashing your tits at him and the camera. By the time you lowered your shirt back down, his mouth was ajar. “We are never showing anyone this video now.”

You grinned. “Nuh-uh, baby, this is all for you.” You raised your brows in a challenge and stepped into the bedroom, leaving him to hurry behind you with the clunky machine.

He stood in the doorway, camera focused on you as you slipped off your blouse and skirt. The whirring of machinery inside the camera indicated he was zooming in on your tits. You stifled a laugh at the noise as he zoomed out again, taking in all of you.

“Strip for me,” he directed behind the camera. You gave a wry grin as your thumbs slipped behind the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs slowly. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Gonna put on a show for me?”

You settled on the bed on all fours, back arched as you crawled towards the headboard. Steve groaned at the sight, breath shuddering as you flipped around and spread your legs for him. Without needing instructions, you slipped one hand between your legs and let the other move to your chest, kneading your breast between your fingers.

He moved from the doorway— the magnetic pull of you too much to resist for long. He settled at the end of the bed, the camera so close it made butterflies swell in your tummy. He moved the camera to your hands, one between your legs, teasing your clit and dipping into the pool of arousal at your center, and the other toying with your nipples, the shiny diamond on the engagement ring glinting with each small movement.

“Christ, baby hold the camera—“ he said suddenly, passing it over to you. You laughed as he practically threw it into your hands and you had to scramble to turn it right side up.

You laughed as he tore off his clothes, probably popping some buttons here and there. “Steve, what are you— oh!”

Without hesitation, Steve buried his head between your thighs, moaning at the taste of your juices as he lapped at your pussy. It was a struggle to film him and enjoy the moment, especially since you had to watch him through the viewfinder. But something about capturing something so intimate on film made a thrill run through you.

“Fuck, Steve—“ you moaned, being more vocal than you normally would for the camera. Fuck the neighbors, honestly. It was your engagement night! “Your mouth feels so good, honey.”

His brown eyes peered up at you, at the camera, framed by pretty long lashes. His lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked lightly, making your legs tremble. Your free hand moved to his hair, tangling in the soft locks as his mouth elicited gasps and moans.

A slick sheen had formed on the tip of his nose, his mouth, and chin from his ministrations. The sight made heat bloom in the pit of your stomach. His eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself in you— relishing in your sounds, your smell, your taste.

A light pat on your thigh was his wordless signal for you to move and accommodate him more. You acquiesced, spreading your legs as much as you were comfortably able to, and he let his fingertips tease at your center.

“Relax for me, baby,” he said, his words vibrating against your clit. He gave the bundle of nerves a light kiss before he looked up at you. “I’ve got you. Just…” He pushed his middle finger into you and you moaned low in your throat, instinctively pushing back against the intrusion. “That’s it. Just like that.”

He was always so gentle with you during foreplay— taking his time to really explore every single spot that he knew made you tick. You shuddered as the pad of his finger pressed against a particularly sensitive spot within you. He knew you like the back of his hand— probably better. He slid a second finger beside the first, coaxing moans and gasps from you as he gave all his attention to your clit and g-spot.

Your thighs trembled as you fought the instinct to close them around his head, the stimulation bordering on too much. The softness of his mouth on you, the press of his fingers against the most sensitive spot inside— making you cum was simply too easy for him. You barely had time to gasp out a breathy “I’m cumming—“ before your orgasm hit you. Your walls gripped his fingers like a vise as he worked you through it, muttering praise against your cunt before he withdrew his fingers completely.

You stared at the ceiling, trying to find your breath. “C’mere. It's your turn,” you said with a grin.

Steve simply shook his head. “Not done.” He moved his mouth back to your cunt, this time without the hungry ferocity. You sighed at the sensation, your legs twitching when the tip of his tongue brushed against your clit. His movements lost purpose with each pass of his tongue until he was practically making out with your pussy.

Your head fell back against the pillows, soft gasps slipping past your lips. Steve moaned against you as you tugged his hair, a furrow forming between his brows. So utterly lost in you that he hadn’t even noticed that he was rutting against the bed for friction.

“C’mere,” you said softly. He pressed a final, wet kiss to your pussy before resting his head on the plush of your thigh. Your stomach flipped as he licked his lips, chasing those last remnants of your taste. He pressed a soft kiss to your belly before crawling up to meet you.

The kiss you shared was hungry and slow. The camera was shoved to the side so you could put your mouth on his— tongues meeting, the tang of your arousal and his spit flooding your senses.

A low moan escaped his lips as your hand snaked between your two bodies, where you took his length into your hand and stroked slowly. His mouth fell open, a small furrow between his brows.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. You smiled up at him innocently and let your thumb glide across his tip. A full-body shiver overtook him, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. Steve was easy to love all the time, but especially when he was needy. “Switch spots with me.” When you furrowed your brows he nodded towards the camera. “Please?”

When he sat back on his heels, you moved from beneath him and let him settle with his back against the pillows. You were slightly annoyed that he had control of the camera, because goddamn. His thighs were bowed out slightly, cock resting against his stomach. The sight made your heart hammer as you straddled his thighs.

Steve took the camera back into his hands, a wide smile on his face. “Alright, just do what you were doing,” he instructed. “Left hand though.”

You glanced down at your hand and smiled softly. The engagement ring— your engagement ring— glinted up at you. You spit onto your hand and Steve groaned at the sight.

“Haven’t even touched you yet,” you teased.

“Don’t let me stop you.” His voice wavered, revealing just how needy he really was.

He cried out the moment your hand wrapped around his length, head tossed back against the headboard. His cock pulsed in your hand as it glided up and down, aching for more. You leaned down, spitting onto his tip, giving you more slickness to work with.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his chest heaving. You moved your right hand to his balls, kneading them as you focused your attention on the head. “Jesus, look at that fuckin’ rock, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled wryly. “That’s what you’re thinking about? Not— y’know— the handjob to end all handjobs?” To prove your point, you twisted your hand and let your thumb glide over his slit. He practically whimpered, bucking into your grip.

You redoubled your efforts, relishing in each desperate, whiny noise you were able to elicit. He was getting close— you could feel it in the way he throbbed in your hand, and hear it in the desperate pants and moans passing his lips. Before he could finish, you slowed your pace and let him come back from the edge.

He sat there, arm slung over his eyes, just catching his breath. “Earth to Steve?” You teased, placing a kiss on his tummy. He made a low noise in the back of his throat and took another deep breath.

“Okay, I’m good,” he said, a breathy laugh escaping his lips as he finally lowered his arm and looked at you. “Just needed a minute so I didn’t—“ You giggled as he mimed an explosion, completely unabashed about the effect you had on him.

He grabbed the camera and placed it on the bedside table, doing his best to angle it just right. “Alright… wanna take a ride on the Harrington Express?” He patted his thighs with a smug expression and you groaned in annoyance.

“Steve.”

“Fine. I’ll be so cool. I’ll be totally normal. But just know… you’re marrying a loser.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly as you straddled his thighs. “I wouldn’t have it any other way… most of the time.”

He stared up at you like you hung the moon, all doe eyes and heart-shaped pupils. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, tender and slow, and you hummed contentedly at the feeling.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips. He moved one of your hands from his shoulder and down to his chest, where his heart thumped steadily. For you.

Your own heart lurched in your chest as a swell of emotions overtook you. “I love you too, Steve.”

You reached between the two of you, taking his cock into your hand so you could position him at your entrance. You breathed slowly through your nose as you sank down— the prep and attention he had given you made the stretch comfortable and bearable, so all you felt was the pleasurable full feeling that he gave you.

Once you were fully seated, you gave an experimental roll of your hips. A moan escaped you at the feeling— as each tiny movement made delicious electricity run along your nerves.

He sat up fully, his chest pressing against yours, holding you firmly against him. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, cutting himself off to plant wet kisses along your jaw and throat. “Feels so good. Love the way your pussy feels around me.”

He cried out as you began to ride him in earnest, not caring how thin the walls of the condo were. His hands gripped onto your hips and dimpled the plush skin there as he began to meet your thrusts with his own. With each movement, you could feel him getting deeper until you could practically feel him in your guts.

“Steve,” you gasped out, meeting his gaze as he fucked up into you. The sound of his name seemed to spur him on.

“Say it again,” he demanded. “Touch yourself while you do,”

You whimpered at the tone of his voice, snaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your clit. Your limbs felt like jelly as he continued to fuck the life and brains out of you. “St-Steve, fuck, baby,” you cried between the hiccup-y sobs of pleasure that were punched from your lungs.

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. Not gonna last like this.”

“Don’t,” you managed. “Cum for me. With me.” You leaned in and kissed him in a way that felt like more saliva than lips.

When you pulled back, he nodded, forehead pressed against yours as you both worked each other over the edge. Your vision was spotted with pinpricks of light while he worked you through it, his moans distant in your ears.

You were both panting, nearly tacked together with sweat as you came down. You chuckled lightly as you tilted your head to look at him. “That was one hell of a celebration.” He intertwined your fingers and placed a kiss on your ring finger.

“And we have the rest of our lives to do it again, and again, and again, and ag—“

You shut him up with a kiss. You figure that for the rest of your lives, that’s always going to work.

It does.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #lazy ghoul’s kinktober

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marriedtobigfoot · 1 year

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Robin is positive that Steve isn't straight. At first, she thought she was projecting. Maybe she just wanted to share another aspect of herself with her best friend, but no. She's very confident now. The way Steve acts sometimes makes it so obvious. He's listened to her talk about how scary it is, being a lesbian in a town like Hawkins, and he talks to her about it like he undertands, even if he doesn't realize it. She roped him into watching a movie with a gay couple in it, and Steve's eyes lit up seeing two men kiss on screen. He once cracked a joke about going on a date with a guy that sounded far too sincere to be a joke. She knows, deep in the depths of her very soul, that Steve is a little bit queer.

And she could prove it if she could just figure out what his type is

She's been doing research, real genuine research into what male celebrities are considered hot. Finding movies with said supposedly hot men and making Steve watch them with her. But there's nothing! No reaction, not even the slightest blush when Harrison Ford was sweaty and shirtless right before his eyes. It isn't until she gets him to watch Rocky Horror that she finally catches something. Tim Curry in all his fishnet-clad glory brings a flush to Steve's cheeks. One that gets even worse when the character dons a leather jacket halfway through. It isn't much, but it's enough.

She mentally tallys everything about Tim Curry in that movie. Dark eyes, curls, makeup, tights, and especially the leather. She tries not to get her hopes up too high, knows that Tim Curry was wearing feminine clothes and makeup in the movie, so maybe Steve was just thrown off and confused, but it's a start at least. She makes a new list of movies, and pays close attention to his reactions.

The real breakthroughs come with The Lost Boys and The Breakfast Club. Lost Boys had been planned, one of her choices designed to illicit a response from Steve. Lots of pretty boys, some with dark curly hair, some with big dark eyes, and quite a few wearing leather jackets. Steve had been interested, that was for sure, a lot more than he had in the other movies she'd shown him. The Breakfast Club was a surprise. It had been one of Steve's picks, and Robin hadn't even been paying close attention. But it was impossible to miss the way Steve's eyes shot to the screen every time John Bender was speaking.

So, Robin has an answer. Steve Harrington liked bad boys. Men with dark hair and dark eyes, clad in leather with attitude for miles. Not what she had been expecting, but she's delighted, to say the least.

The delight only grows when Eddie Munson comes into their lives, and she gets a front row seat to Steve Harrington's Big Gay Meltdown. Eddie ticks off all Steve's boxes. Dark curly hair, big brown doe eyes, leather and denim from head to toe, and he has the attitude. But he checks off other boxes too, ones Robin hadn't even realized existed. He checks off the 'great big nerd' box. Because when she thinks about it, yes. Steve surrounds himself with exclusively nerds. He checks off the 'good with kids' box effortlessly, to the point that Robin almost screams when she hears Steve telling Nancy about his six kids and a winnebago dream, because Eddie basically already has part-time custody of Steve's weird gaggle of gremlin children. He tickes off the 'queer as fuck' box too, if Robin's judgement is any good, and she was pretty sure it was. The bandana in his pocket seems like a pretty good sign, if the zines she had smuggled on a family trip to Indy were to be trusted.

Eddie Munson is perfect for Steve, in every way possible, Robin is sure of it. So needless to say, shes thrilled when Steve finally, FINALLY pulls her into the crappy little bathroom at Family Video and asks her how she realized she was gay. This is going to be the start of a beautiful little journey for them both, Robin is going to welcome it with open arms.

Part 2

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #Robin Buckley #Platonic Stobin #Robin is already wingmanning steve before he even realizes he likes men #And she certainly doesnt miss the way Eddie blushes when they watch Indiana Jones as a group #and Shirtless Harrison Ford is on screen #ficlet #steddie ficlet

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buckets-and-trees · 8 months

Text

Devour: ACID

Fandom: MCU Collection: Devour Title: ACID Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!Bucky x f!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: A month since SALT and three weeks since FAT, your situation with the mob boss who bought your restaurant is still evolving in unexpected ways - including an unexpected episode after work tonight.

Content Warnings: explicit smut, oral: female receiving, analingus: female receiving, vaginal penetration/fucking, some light drinking, mob boss Bucky is kind of dom

Logistical Notes: I had planned for this to punch the ticket for week 10 of my Hot Bucky Summer 2023 collection for the prompt "Long day at work?" and so this is late for the @buckybarnesevents event itself, but I'm a completionist and am marking it off on my personal list for my own satisfaction. Also ticking off the U3: "Kink: Concubine" square of my Bucky Barnes Bingo, Round Five card for @buckybarnesbingo.

Additional Notes: @mlibbydp and @goldylions were so benevolent in doing some beta work on this so HUGE AMOUNTS OF LOVE TO THEM for what they both contributed to the piece and to me personally. This chapter is much longer than the previous two and just as part two evolved their relationship, part three makes some more significant moves and ... I needed the notes on making sure this still felt like Devour. Also... @biteofcherry you might see something interesting in here that's definitely included because of a throwaway comment you made earlier this summer.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

When you walked out into the garage, there was a black luxury SUV idling near the exit with Sam Wilson leaned up against it. Seeing you, he slipped his phone into his pocket and pushed off the side of the vehicle.

“Hey, Chef,” he greeted you with a grin.

“Really?” you sighed. “Now?”

He shrugged. “Please?”

“And is that you asking nicely, or him?”

“You know I just do what he says.”

You huffed. “You don’t always do what he says, but he knows you’re the most charming one and I wouldn’t refuse you.”

Sam laughed as he opened the door to the backseat. “Don’t let the charm fool you, honey, if you said no, I’d throw you in the back regardless, it would just be less fun for you.”

You knew that, too, which is why you simply got in without a fuss. Bucky, Sam, the rest of his men? They were all mobsters running mob business, dangerous beneath the surface.

As the door closed behind you, you looked to the front to see who was driving, then clucked your tongue. “He sent both of you?”

Steve smirked. “Buckle up. And of course he sent us. You don’t think he trusts just anyone with his girl, do you?”

Oh. You bit your bottom lip and looked away and out the window, a small warmth stirring in your belly. As inconveniently annoying as this ordeal seemed to you in this moment, there was that piece. Being his. You were starting to feel it.

You had told Bucky that second night in the restaurant that you needed more than gifts and sex.

He had taken your word seriously.

There had been walks in the park, an auction, brunch on his yacht, a gallery opening, a rooftop wine tasting, even a dinner party at Sam’s place where he ended up proposing to his girl. You had enjoyed all of them, but except for the night at Sam’s, the time with Bucky had been last minute – sometimes there was a text, but most times it was him showing up or – like tonight – someone sent to fetch you without notice. He seemed all too aware of your schedule, so none of these instances were logistically inconvenient, but with it happening once more again tonight, you couldn’t help but notice this pattern of behavior was clearly becoming a habit – being summoned. In general, you didn’t mind, you saw that he was demonstrating that he wanted to spend time with you, but if you were his girl, you didn’t want to be treated like one of the droves of people who were at his beck and call and certainly not like a concubine kept solely for his whims.

The SUV slowed and pulled up to the curb of an incredibly unremarkable building that spoke to money for how unremarkable it was – the kind of money that demanded magnificence but privacy. You’d never stepped in a place of residence quite like this before – you hadn’t even stepped out of the car yet, but even in the darkness you already knew.

Both men slipped out of the front seat. Sam opened your door and offered his hand to pull you to the sidewalk. “No frowns needed tonight,” he said.

“Says you.” You didn’t realize you were frowning.

Sam grinned, then headed around to take the driver’s seat just as Steve appeared at your side.

“I’ll walk you up,” Steve gestured for you to enter the building with him.

“This is his place?”

“One of them,” Steve responded.

You took a deep breath and followed him in.

Sharp looking doormen, green marble floors, golden elevators.

Chatting with Steve was always easy, and it was no different on the fifteen-floor ride up to the penthouse at the top of the building. However, you did feel a touch of nerves as this was your first time at Bucky’s place. You weren’t quite sure what to expect but were keen to learn more about this enigma of a man by seeing where he lived.

And there he was, ready to meet you as the doors of the elevator opened, hands in his pockets, tired smile on his face, but his blue eyes dancing with excitement, and that stirred the storm of butterflies immediately in your stomach. He reached out a hand to pull you into him.

“Thanks, Steve,” he said, though he didn’t take his eyes off you.

“Sure thing, Buck.”

Once the elevator closed, Bucky brushed his fingers over your cheek, cradled your head in his hand to tilt your jaw up, and then his lips were on yours, your back pressed up against the wall. Within moments you were breathless.

In the intervening weeks since seeing him at the restaurant he’d also kept his physical contact minimal, only a few light touches, an arm around you when it seemed natural for the occasion, except for two lingering kisses. One of those instances was after a walk in the park when he’d kissed you full on in the afternoon daylight, then deposited you into the car he’d arranged to take you directly to work, where his heated kiss had distracted you throughout your shift. The second was three nights ago, the last time you saw him, and that had been only a ghosting of his lips against your ear, along your jaw, and then a soft kiss pressed to your mouth before withdrawing and leaving you at your door, but it had gotten your whole body humming for him and haunted you as you went to sleep and in your dreams.

This, after so long, so much wanting, was like a wave crashing over you. You moaned softly, you let him pull you in, melting against him, and you nearly let him sweep you away, but then you pressed insistently against his chest.

“James.”

“Yes?” he did move back, but only enough to look into your face fully.

“What is this?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“So, you just summon me?”

You knew he didn’t miss the tenor of agitation in your tone because he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the smirk before he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the juncture at your shoulder. “I was hungry for you,” he said, completely undeterred. And as his lips moved solely along your throat, your core begged you to forget the conversation you were attempting to have.

“Why?” you barely managed to ask.

“You know why.”

“Do I?”

Bucky pulled back again, frowning this time, but you put your hand on his face to soften his reaction. “Steve and Sam said I’m your girl, but…”

“I told you you were mine. Surely over the past few weeks, you can’t doubt that.” His stare into your eyes was steady, straight.

You didn’t doubt him.

You did need to hear those words said just that way though. You didn’t know how much you had needed to hear them.

It gave you the surety to say what you needed to say to him. “I’m not just another girl. No more summoning me, Barnes. I’m not one of your people, I’m not your plaything.” With your hand now resting on his chest, you let your fingers brush soft strokes up and down over his heart. “If you want me, want all of me.”

He hadn’t interrupted your statement. He’d let you finish without argument. You could see the way his face changed, and the shift of the intensity in his eyes made your breath catch. He drew you in closer, encircling his arms around your waist. “Oh, I want everything, don’t doubt that.” He brushed his lips softly on your forehead. “I was only waiting for you to want this.”

Your chest tightened at those words, but the next moment you couldn’t think because then he kissed you again.

And that kiss, though brief, was thick with heat, and when he pulled back he said, “I see your point about the summoning. Just know that I was eager to have you around at any opportunity.”

You smiled because he smiled. “I can forgive you for that – I guess I can be a bit irresistible,” you teased. Somehow his confidence made you feel steady enough with him to be direct, to be flirtatious, to simply be around him.

He brought a hand to your cheek again. “I’ll mend my ways, but let’s be honest… a little bit of you likes it – the spontaneity of it.” His smile turned to a truly wolfish grin.

You sighed but rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe a little.”

He stepped away, taking your hand. “Come. You can have a tour later.”

Rather than asking where you were going, you simply let him lead you through the grand apartment. You didn’t take in every detail, but it was big without being too big. Rich and luxurious without being cold or opulent. There were sleek lines, but also elements of warm and comfort folded into the power that was also clearly on display. But your focus was on the way he held your hand and led you through his domain. He had no question that you would follow.

Were you so easily his?

No.

Your mind wasn’t made up.

You weren’t all in, but you weren’t reeling to run away.

He stopped in front of a mahogany door and looked over his shoulder at you. You arched your brow.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“Alright.” And you did.

He opened it, and you let him lead you inside, through a room, clearly walking you past some furniture. You heard the sound of a fire in a fireplace, then you heard another door opening, and he ushered you in front of him and through that door. “Take your time,” he said softly, lips against your ear. “I’ll be waiting.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, and then he was gone, shutting the door behind you.

You opened your eyes to the sight of a large jade green-tiled shower enclosed with glass and four gleaming gold showerheads. Turning around, you couldn’t help a soft giggle falling from your lips. The lavish bathroom was sheer perfection. Showering after your shifts at the restaurant was ritual for you. You toed off your shoes and began peeling off your clothes. Off to the side of the palatial shower, there was a gorgeous clawfoot tub, and next to that a plush navy settee with what looked like some silky things set out for you. After inspecting the knobs and heads of the shower, you got them running, adjusting them to the perfect water temperature easily, and stepped under the streams, a sigh falling immediately from your lips.

One of the shelves was stocked with some of the skin and haircare products you used, some you hadn’t but certainly knew the name and reputation of (but hadn’t indulged in for yourself), and the other shelf was stocked with men’s products. It reminded you of the significance of where you were – in his home – and the element of intimacy it evoked, being naked where he had been and would frequently be again. Where he likely would be naked with you. You bit your lip. You pulled down the bottle of his shower gel, popped the top open, and inhaled. You hated how much you already loved that smell.

No, you didn’t.

You inhaled deeply again, then set it back on the shelf.

After that, you set to reveling in the flow of the water over your body, and got to washing, unsure of the time, only focused on the smooth feel of the soap and textures over your skin, feeling more and more relaxed, and ultimately refreshed and clean.

Once you had shut off all four showerheads, you reached for towels more plush than any you had ever used in your life and dried yourself off before wrapping the large bath sheet around your torso. You padded over to the settee to discover a short black silk robe waiting for you.

And nothing else.

You shook your head but grinned. “Audacious bastard,” you whispered.

But you didn’t bother with anything else.

At the vanity there were more hair, face, and body care products and tools clearly stocked for you – again some familiar and some you’d only dreamed of, none of this really a shock given your experience with this man. You weren’t certain how long you’d taken in the shower, having lost track of time, but here you suddenly did find yourself trying to take more time, a small fluttering of nerves in your stomach, because though he'd had his way with you in the kitchen of the restaurant and discreetly pulled an orgasm from you at the table in the dining room, this would be different.

Tonight, your body would be his, no restrictions. There was no worry for privacy, no limited amount of time.

There were also emotions now.

You had set the terms – that you needed to be more than a body to him – and he’d met them, courting the rest of you these past weeks, and putting the physical on the back burner.

He had made his intentions for tonight expressly clear.

And you wanted him, too.

But you were still nervous.

When you put your hand on the doorknob, you closed your eyes for a moment, taking one deep breath to steady yourself. Then you stepped out and into the next room, which – to no surprise – was a grand and spacious bedroom. Bucky was sitting on a couch in front of the fireplace you’d heard earlier, but immediately set a book aside and stood when he heard you. You were happy – and feeling a little more heat in your core – to see he was out of his earlier clothes and down to only a pair of silk pajama bottoms.

“How was your shower?” he asked, standing up and beckoning you over.

“The shower was glorious. You’re a bit wicked to only leave me a robe, though, aren’t you?”

He placed a kiss to your forehead and motioned to get comfortable on the couch while he moved over to a small bar cart nearby to get you a drink. He shot a smug over his shoulder. “I plan to get lucky.”

You snorted. “You brought me here late at night, kissed me like you did earlier, sent me to shower, left me only a very slinky silk robe to wear, and then greet me again looking like this,” you gesture at him, “fixing me a drink, and you call that ‘planning to get lucky?’”

He shrugged, his smug grin only growing. “Do you think there’s any way in hell I’d be where I am if I hadn’t strategically hedged my bets? Absolutely I plan to get lucky. I make sure I don’t give luck any reason not to go my way.”

You didn’t need alcohol. He was beyond intoxicating. He had been from that first night.

“And I’m assuming I don’t get a choice of drink tonight, either?”

He looked at you again. “I let you choose a lot of things, but I want you to try this. I think you’ll like it.”

You bit your lip and tucked your legs up under you, draping an arm over the back of the couch and facing him as well as where he would return to sit once finished mixing your drinks. His back was to you now, and you were not surprised he seemed to want to keep his preparation a mystery at least for a few more moments.

“Long day at work?”

“Work?” You weren’t expecting such a normal inquiry about it.

“Yes,” he chuckled, “work, my beautiful, talented chef.”

He handed you a wine glass with clear liquids over ice, garnished with fresh mint and slices of lemon, while he had what looked to be a whiskey smash in his other hand. You took an experimental sip as he sat close to you, angling his body to face you, resting his arm over the back of the couch as well. The citrus and mint blended with something floral and…

You swished the contents of your drink in your glass before taking another sip. It was bright and refreshing and not quite the evening night cap you would have expected.

He watched your face, gaging your assessment as he sipped his own drink.

“What is this?” you asked.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” you countered, “but what is it, James?”

Your name on his lips ticked the corner up in a half smile. “It’s a Hugo cocktail.”

“It’s not a predictable choice for the middle of the night.”

“It wasn’t my intention to bring you hear and tuck you in straight away.”

You laughed. “There’s no question what your intentions were. We established that.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You’re not picking up on all my intentions.”

Your brow furrowed. Then you let out a little yip of surprise as he pulled you closer, you clutching your wine glass to keep from spilling the drink.

He had already positioned himself close to you, but this was even more intimate. You were nearly in his lap, and he did pull your legs up to drape across his thighs.

“Now tell me about your day.”

“Oh, you were serious.”

His hand settled on one of your bare thighs, just next to your knee.

“If I didn’t want all of you, I would’ve fucked you in the foyer and let you go home. I want this, too. Now talk.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you smiled. This really was him – demanding but not inflexible, and certainly giving you more than you expected.

So, you did talk, just as you had been really starting to the more he had brought you around to spend the time with him these last weeks. However, there was no getting around that this was more intimate. No others around, no distractions, no functionality of a thing you were doing together, only the two of you.

His line of inquiry was genuine, and he listened intently.

Almost too intently.

You were his singular fixation, and you knew he was thinking of nothing but you as you spoke.

And his fingers brushed idly over your thigh as you conversed.

The soft, repetitive motion wasn’t distracting at first, but it wasn’t long before it was an overwhelming tease of what wasn’t happening.

The physical touch you hadn’t experienced at his hand in weeks.

He was asking questions about how some of the new members of your kitchen staff were integrating, and all you wanted him to do was glide that hand down between your thighs.

You sipped at your drink, and as you continued to talk, you let your other hand drift to rest on his arm still draped over the back of the couch, and your fingers traced along a vein on his forearm. Although it was difficult not to let your eyes drop to his bare chest, you kept his gaze. If he was going to continue talking like this proximity and the lack of clothing between you both wasn’t affecting him, you were determined to match him.

Finally, he moved his hand from your thigh, but it went straight to your waist to curl just above your hip. “Kiss me,” he said.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips hungrily to his without hesitation. He set his drink to the side, then grabbed yours to do the same. With both your hands free, neither of you wasted another moment. Your hands went to his neck while one of his hands traveled slowly up your spine, the other holding your face. As impatient as you were for him, both of you kissed to savor, but there was no rush to it. His lips moved against yours, your tongues explored together, tracing, memorizing, exploring. It wasn’t enough, the tenor moving from savoring to consuming, and you shifted, moving into his lap.

He broke off the kiss briefly, turning his head to the side, but his left hand remained firmly against your back, keeping you close, and you rested your forehead against his temple. His other hand reached to the side table, and he plucked one of the slices of lemon and some mint from your drink. Curious, you lifted your head away. He brought the mint leaf to your mouth first, pressing it along your bottom lip. Then he pinched the fruit against your lip. The mint played with the acid of the citrus deliciously as he kissed you again, this time each of you nipping and licking intermittently through the kisses. Your hands explored the broad planes of his chest now, and his hands raked up and down your sides, thumbs skimming over the side swells of your breasts.

Keen for more, you pressed your body closer to him, pushing your core directly against the hardness of his cock. Rocking your hips, you drew a debauched moan from him that made you swell with pride and made your pussy ache even more for him. You needed him, each moment driving that need exponentially now.

The thick arms and broad chest you were getting to explore freely for the first time held only some of the rippling muscles that made it seemingly easy to push up off the couch while still holding you close with one arm, and it made a broken whine escape the back of your throat. You wrapped your legs around his torso, and his other hand squeezed and held your ass against him as he moved you from the seating area across the room to the bed. He tossed you down on the mattress, then pushed the silky robe – which was naturally already askew – off your body and flung it away. You pushed yourself back a bit more on the bed, and he was only a half second behind crawling up after you.

He pushed your legs wide open, and dove immediately for your dripping cunt. You laughed, a little flushed, but also more than ready for him to bury his face between your thighs. You let your head fall back against the soft bedding, closing your eyes. Then you yelped as there was a sharp slap to your pussy instead of his lips on your folds. You jerked up to look at him, and the devilish grin on his face, the darkening of his eyes made your heart stutter.

“Don’t laugh, Chef, I told you I was hungry for you. Keep your eyes on me,” he said.

You took a deep breath, leaned back on your elbows, and gave him a solemn nod.

He pressed kisses slowly along your inner thigh, his deep blue eyes locked on yours. The fluttering in your stomach rose steadily, your pussy desperate for his attention. When he planted his lips in the crease of your thigh, he left his mouth there. A broken whimper leapt from your throat, and you pushed your hips up.

He pushed your hips back down with one of his large hands and moved his mouth the opposite direction and bit at the tender flesh of your inner thigh, making you yelp.

“Please,” you murmured.

“Eager for me?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation.

“Good.”

And then he worshiped your cunt, kissing it with as much fervor as he had kissed your mouth, and you moaned openly, no worries over anyone but him hearing you here. You didn’t look away, completely captivated because this was also a new level of intimacy that you felt both ready and unprepared for. Receiving oral sex from other partners had never felt so purposeful. This man in this moment was so avid in the way he was pleasing you, making you watch him, you brain was having a hard time recalling if sex with anyone before him had ever been so intense. You didn’t think it had – that first night when he’d demanded it from you in the kitchen, the next time he’d coaxed you into a few moments of pleasure in the dining room, and now inviting you here to have you without restraint – each encounter had been unlike anything before.

The pleasure was overwhelming as his lips and tongue licked, sucked, flicked your clit, delved into your folds, and he kept a keen eye on your every reaction. You began to feel lightheaded with the mounting waves of bliss, your toes curling, breaths coming in short gasps until your head fell back because you simply couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t do anything but feel, ready to fall over the edge because of him again.

But then he pulled his face away, jerking you back from that edge of ecstasy and you would have whined, but he was already manhandling your hips to flip you over. One of his rough palms smoothed slowly and firmly up your spine, applying delicious pressure, but you still felt the lack from the orgasm he’d dangled then withdrawn. “James,” you moaned. “James, please.”

He drew his palm slowly back down your spine. “You’ll have me, Chef, don’t doubt that.”

You whined again, but he pushed your thighs apart and slotted himself again between them, holding you splayed open for him with his broad shoulders. It was a little uncomfortable, stretching your legs, but you settled and breathed through it anticipating what was coming next.

His tongue teased at your clit for a moment, then slowly licked up and between your folds to dive into your cunt, lapping inside, and you shivered. But then one of his hands pushed at your ass cheek and his tongue continued moving up, and you gasped and tried to move away when the tip of his tongue teased your tight, puckered hole.

“Easy,” he said softly but firmly, his other hand moving beneath you and hooking at the juncture of your thigh to pull your hips back flush against him. He pressed a kiss to your round ass cheek.

“I’ve never,” you admitted enough, he knew what you meant. He kissed the same spot on your ass cheek, but then he shifted, and you felt him moving up over your back, his body pressing lightly against you until he was up at your shoulder. He pressed a kiss there, and then looked at you.

“Then I won’t give you more than my tongue tonight, but you know I’ll make you feel good, don’t you?”

You nodded.

He smiled, then left the ghost of a kiss to your temple and slipped back down behind you.

Resuming his exact same positioning, his left hand curling under to anchor at the juncture of your leg, his right pressing you open to expose your ass, you pressed your cheek into the pillow and took a deep breath. You reached your left hand down to meet his, and he twined his fingers reassuringly with yours as they sought him. Then his mouth pressed in, and his tongue darted out, swiping over the tight ring of muscle.

“Just relax and feel,” he instructed.

You concentrated on breathing and then the new sensation. Unexpected. Then a different kind of pressure, then pleasure. It wasn’t awful as had always been insinuated. It was debauched more than anything else, and he soon had you moaning and panting and wriggling back against his tongue which alternated between lapping at the hole and teasing in and out. It was when you pushed hard back against him that he pressed a kiss again there and pulled back.

“I know what you like.”

It wasn’t a brag; it was a statement of possession that sent a shiver through your body. Because he was right, and you couldn’t deny that.

“Now come here,” he said, pulling you by your hips up to kneel, presenting for him. “Such pretty folds.” His fingers circled your clit, then slipped briefly inside your cunt, drawing a happy gasp from you.

He grabbed his thick member and brushed the tip up and down over your sensitive parts a few times as you pushed up on your elbows, your back arched in a beautiful bow for him. When you looked over your shoulder at him, he finally sunk his cock into you. His hips pushed forward against you slowly until he was completely buried inside you, filling you, pressing so intimately into you. Fully sheathed, he stayed there for a moment, and he ran his hands over your hips and your lower back, caressing, relishing in the fill. He pulled back slowly, but only a couple of inches, then pushed back in, clearly wanting to relish in this for a moment. You had no desire to rush him either.

When his hands gripped your hips, you dropped your forehead to rest your forearm on the mattress, and then he began to fuck you, building a steady rhythm. He built up bit by bit, and you both let words and sounds fall out of your mouths as the physical feelings increased in intensity. Having been so close twice, when he finally moved a hand to rub expert circles into your throbbing clit, your body quickly responded in releasing your orgasm, and your spasming walls pulled him right along with you, and he came with a shout over your moans, a stuttered thrust, and then he continued a few more pushes, his hot spend coating your walls.

He wrapped an arm around your stomach and pressed kisses into your back, and you curled up into him with a hum of contentment.

When he pulled out, he reached over to the bedside table to retrieve a waiting damp hand towel – you shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d prepared to this detail – and then cleaned you up and then him before tossing it away. He stroked your back once more, then scooped you to your side, and pulled your naked and spent body to him so he could spoon up against you. You put your arm over his, and he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Stay?” he murmured simply into your ear.

This you didn’t answer immediately. You let your chest fill and empty with a few breaths, weighing your answer between your head and your heart. But neither of them fought to leave.

“Okay,” you finally breathed.

He settled in even closer, then reached for the sheets to pull up over the both of you. “I told you that first night that you would warm my bed.”

“Don’t be smug,” you protested.

“I’m not,” he insisted, and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, “I’m only pleased I’ve finally got you here.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #mob boss!bucky barnes x reader #mob au #bucky barnes x you #devour au #aspen wrote something #bbb2023 #buckybarnesbingo2023 #female reader

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months

Text

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 24

Part 1 Part 23

Will stays on the periphery of the shopping trip, trailing behind Nancy and Jonathan as they drag bear traps, nails, and ammo up to the counter. He imagines the Demogorgon writhing, both feet stuck in the traps, imagines its head blown clean off by Lonnie’s gun, imagines driving a nail straight into its heart like it's a vampire.

He never thought violence could make him feel like this – vindicated. Victorious. Whenever Mike and Dustin snuck horror movies from Family Video, Will always had to turn away from the gore. Even when the person deserved it. Even when it was against a monster.

But the Demogorgon had stolen him, had stolen Eddie, still has Steve in its grasp and he wants it to pay.

The clerk gives them all a suspicious look, Will most of all, before asking, “what’s all this for then?”

Nancy and Jonathan trade looks, like Will isn’t behind them at all, before Nancy replies, “monster hunting.”

Apparently satisfied, the clerk shrugs and tells them the total. It’s more than they usually pay at the grocery store for a whole week’s worth of food. He sees Jonathan cringe, even as he forks it over.

They carry their purchases away, Nancy handing Will the box of nails. He clutches them to his chest as they make their way to where Jonathan’s car is in the parking lot.

“You know, last week, I was shopping for a top I thought Steve might like. It took me and Barb all weekend,” Nancy says, carefully placing the bear traps into the trunk. Will didn’t realize Nancy and Steve were boyfriend and girlfriend, didn’t realize they knew each other at all, past the way everyone in small towns sort of knows of everyone else. “It seemed like life or death, you know? And now–”

“You’re shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers,” Jonathan says. He says his own name like it’s a joke. Will doesn’t like it.

“Yeah,” she says, laughing a little as Jonathan haphazardly throws the ammo on top of the rest of their purchases before slamming the trunk closed. “And I don’t know if I even want him to like me like that anymore.”

Will can’t imagine having someone like Steve – nice, cool, an action hero – and not wanting to be liked.

“We got into this fight the night he disappeared,” Nancy continues, laugh coming out sharp and wet this time, all the humor sucked straight out. “And I was so mad, but now I just hope he’s alive.”

Jonathan turns away from Nancy, looks directly at Will, says, “yeah,” with a fervor that makes his cheeks warm.

“He’s alive,” Will says.

No one asks why he’s so sure. Will’s glad. He couldn’t explain it if he tried. Just knows somewhere deep inside that Steve is alive. He’s waiting for them to save him this time.

Barbara’s car is in the driveway when they get home. She’s dawdling on the porch with Eddie and an older man that must be his Uncle Wayne.

Eddie looks both more at ease with his Uncle by his side, and more keyed up than Will’s ever seen him. He’s twitching in his toes, like he’s waiting to take flight; gravity barely keeping him on the surface of the earth.

He settles when Will gets out of the backseat. He feels it like a tug – the need to get back to Eddie’s side is almost an itch on his bones. Eddie meets him halfway, pulling Will beneath the wing of his arm and pulling him in.

Will’s breath comes easier than they had since they separated, like two pieces snapping back into their rightful place.

“Who’s this?” the older man asks gruffly, still standing on the front porch.

Will’s heartbeat stutters at the stern expression, but Eddie just beams, skipping up to him and flourishing his hand grandiosity between the both of them. “Uncle Wayne, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Will Byers. He kicks ass,” he says. “Will, this is my Uncle Wayne. He’s nice, I promise.”

Wayne looks him up and down, eyebrows furrowed before easing, the corners of his mouth ticking up in what must be a smile. “And your other two friends?” he asks.

Eddie points with his free arm. “That Big Byers, Will’s brother,” he says, talking over Jonathan’s quiet, “it’s Jonathan. He points at Nancy, and with much less enthusiasm, finishes, “And that’s Nancy Wheeler.”

Wayne looks between all of them, his eyebrows furrowing like angry caterpillars. “Where are all of your parents?” he asks before turning to Will, “especially yours. If I’m not mistaken, they fished your body out of the water”

Will’s gut churns. He and Eddie trade wide-eyed looks. “I died?” he asks, voice trembling.

“Well, obviously not!” Eddie says, squeezing Will’s shoulder tight enough to twinge. “You’ve been with me the whole time, baby Byers.”

Wayne’s still looking at him, like he’s trying to see through his skin and analyze his skeleton for human parts. “Either way kid, where’s your Mom?” he asks. “Have y’all called Joyce?”

Will shuffles, looking over his shoulder at Jonathan. “She wasn’t here when we got in,” he says, looking down at his scuffed sneakers. “She’s been spending a lot of time with Chief Hopper. Maybe she’s with him?”

Wayne sighs. “Can I use your phone, boy?” He asks the question pointedly toward Will, so Will leads the way to the phone, everyone else trailing behind nervously.

Wayne dials out, lets it ring, before saying. “Hey, Flo, It’s Wayne.” He hums in response to whatever she says, the way adults always do, before continuing. “Right as rain, but I need you to radio the Chief for me.” Will can barely make out Florence’s muffled voice, but the words are lost to the phone line. “He’ll want to hear this. Trust me.”

Wayne does that same barely upturned smile. It wrinkles his eyes up, though. Like it’s a real one even if it’s small. “Thanks, Flo. Tell him to meet me at the Byers house.”

He hangs up the phone on Florence’s muffled response.

Wayne looks around, as if only just taking in the wreck of the house, eyebrows ticked up, scrunching up his forehead. He doesn’t say anything, though. Just asks, “this house got any coffee in it?”

Jonathan goes to make a pot, and they all settle back around the table, waiting for the Chief to burst down the door. It doesn’t take long.

The door slams open, hard enough that Will thinks it might leave a hole in the plaster. “Wayne?” he calls.

“In here!” Wayne calls back, sipping his coffee calmly like the Chief of Police isn’t yelling his name.

The Chief strides into the room like he has a right to it. His eyes settle on Wayne first, looking pissed off, before his eyes flick around the table, from Barb, to Nancy, to Jonathan, to Eddie, and finally, landing on Will and staying.

He goes pale, like Will’s a ghost someone invited for morning coffee. He shrinks into his seat, as Hopper yells, “Joyce?”

Then his Mom is there. She looks tired. Her hair is mussed, clothes wrinkly, bags under her eyes. Eyes that immediately settle on Will. She stops breathing, goes still as a corpse before bolting to his side.

She pulls him from his chair with enough force that they both go tumbling to the laminate. “Baby, baby, is that really you?” she asks, crying. She’s smelling his hair like that will tell her. Like he doesn’t still smell like sweat and dirt and ash. “Oh baby, you came home.”

Will burrows into her chest, sobbing. Part of him hadn’t been able to stop hearing her yelling his name as the Demogorgon growled, had been terrified that it’d gotten her, despite what Steve had said.

“I was so worried, sweetheart,” she says, garbled enough to almost be unintelligible. “I heard those awful noises and the gunshots, and then you wouldn’t talk to me, baby.”

She clutches him impossibly tighter. Will wriggles enough to free his face so he could breathe. Jonathan is kneeling behind her, hands settled on both their shoulders, crying in a way that Will’s never seen before.

He never wants to leave this moment.

But then the Chief yells over the din, “can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

It goes quiet except for Joyce’s crying, like no one wants to be in the man’s crosshairs. Finally, it’s Eddie who responds. “You won’t believe this, Hop.”

Will pulls out of his Mom’s arms. She keeps them latched onto his ribs, but lets him sit up on his own. He looks over at where Eddie’s still seated at the table. His jaw is firm, resolute under his Uncle’s steadying hand. The Chief is glaring down at him, nostrils flaring in his customary anger before he takes a steadying breath, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why don’t you give me a try?”

Part 25

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #eddie munson #will byers #my fic

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plussizeficchick · 7 months

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Lovers Rock | Eddie Munson x Chubby! Reader

Summary: Eddie really likes reader, reader really likes Eddie, will they, won’t they? Loosely based on the TV Girl song, brief misunderstandings, brief mentions of masturbation, suggestive undertones. (Had this in the drafts for a while.)

Eddie had never felt more jealous of Steve than he did right now.

He had you, a cute, chunky little bunny practically hanging off of his arm and couldn’t be asked to give you a shred of attention?

Not that you seem particularly bothered, you’re too busy looking around. For what, he doesn’t know, but you somehow make just standing there sexy.

Eddie had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. He’s always had a thing for plump girls and you ticked all his boxes. You liked DnD, you didn’t judge his music taste even if some weren’t your favorite. And you were hot as fuck.

He remembers the first time he jacked off to the thought of you. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week, and it didn’t help that for the past few months, you seemed to have put more of an effort in your appearance. (i.e. Eddie’s never seen you show so much skin and he’s fighting the urge to paint every inch in his cum.)

Nevertheless, he makes his way over to you both and he feels his heart skip when your eyes light up at the sight of him. “Hey, Munson.” You beam at him, and just like that, you made coming to this shitty party worthwhile. He smirks at you before pulling you into a hug, lips kissing your ear as he whispers, “Good to see you again, princess.” You feel a shiver run down your spine, his words making their way to your core. You’d had a few drinks and shared a joint with Steve on your way here so you were feeling nice and loose.

You shift your grip from Steve’s arm to Eddie’s, effectively trapping him in your ironclad grip. “Wanna get outta here, this shit sucks.” You mutter into his ear. “What about Steve?” You shrug off his concerns, eager to spend time alone with him. “We got a ride here, plus he said he might stay tonight.” Eddie nods in understanding before guiding you both out of the party. You make it to his van and after a few tries, you’re both out of there.

— —

Eddie put on his and your favorite mix, you both screaming lyrics at the top of your lungs. After a while, Eddie stops and just stares at you though, taking you in. It’s rare he gets to see you so carefree and the sight just makes him fall in love with you all the more.

Why did you have to be into Steve?

He’d never burden you with his feelings, but fuck there were some times it became too much to bear. Times he wanted to just say “fuck it” and tell you how he felt, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to you, and that he’d rather suffer in silence than never have you at all.

You were stuck though.

Steve swore up and down that Eddie was into you and honestly, you thought so too. It was why you had put so much more effort into your appearance. Wearing shorter skirts, lower cut tops. Jeans that hugged the curve of your ass, blouses that showed the cute pudge of your tummy. You thought you were being flirty, always asking to listen to his music, touching his arm at any given chance, you were honestly doing your best here. You figured that this would be your best opportunity to just be upfront with him. So when you pulled into his uncle’s trailer park, you decided to lay it all out.

“Eddie, do you like me?” He looks at you confused as he turns off the engine. “What kind of question is that? Of course I like you. You’re one of my closest friends.” He looks at you with sincerity. You’d think it was sweet if that was what you wanted to hear. “Why are you asking that?” Eddie questions. You shake your head, turning in your seat to face him. “It’s just, I like you a lot Eddie and Steve said you might have a crush on me? I don’t know, maybe he was mistaken-” You’re cut off by Eddie abruptly grabbing your hands, his face almost surprised. “I did- I do! I just, I thought you were into Steve so…” He trails off at the sound of your chuckling. He feels his stomach drop at the sound and is about to pull away when he feels you holding on to him.

“Sorry,” You giggle, wiping a fake tear from your eye at the thought. “It’s just, what ever gave you that idea?” You ask. He looks sheepish as he relays his reasoning, “Well I noticed you kind of started dressing up more recently and you hang around us a lot more often than before. So I just thought…” He trails off again. You feel a snicker but hold back as you hear Eddie sigh in frustration. “Sorry for laughing, it’s just, I thought I was being super obvious with my feelings for you, but now I see it was having the opposite effect.” You sigh. Eddie looks at you, confusion written all over his face. “I was doing all of that for you. I was hoping that it’d push you to ask me out, but instead it just made you think I want… Steve.” You shudder in disgust. It coaxes a laugh out of Eddie and you’re sure you’d do anything to keep that smile on his face.

“So you’re saying, you’re into me?” He asks for clarification. You nod, a sweet smile making its way to your chubby cheeks. “And you’re into me?” You mimic. He nods before cupping your face with both hands. He looks you in the eyes, a silent question and you answer by leaning in, pressing your plump lips against his. It’s a sweet, clumsy first kiss, lips molding into each other. You feel the coldness of his rings against your warm cheeks and it somehow makes the kiss feel even better.

You part after the need for air becomes necessary, resting your foreheads against each other. “Thank God we sorted that out. I thought I’d have to walk around in nothing but a Hellfire club shirt before you’d say anything.” You chuckle at the thought. But Eddie starts to picture it and he’s not laughing.

“Hey, um, d’ya think I could see that right now?”

#x chubby reader #chubby reader #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #x black reader #stranger things x chubby reader #stranger things x reader #x reader #stranger things x black!reader

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emasstars · 8 months

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little things

silly headcanons about the greasers | fluff

a/n: @cau-lee-flower215 wanted me to tag them!

ponyboy has a pen collection. every year for his birthday, his parents would get him a new one. for a while, he definitely had a phase where he would only write with a quill. stored away, somewhere in some cabinet, it’s still there.

johnny loves animals with every fibre of his being. he will stop walking to pet a stray animal, and he doesn’t care if it has rabies or ticks or anything. he especially loves when he’s sleeping out in the lot, and a cat comes to cuddle up with him.

dally is a picky eater. his food cannot touch, it needs to be made a very specific way, and he will not eat the food if it does not fit his standards. when they go out to eat, he will always order the same food. he will order it off of the kids menu if he has to.

sodapop secretly writes poetry, and hides the papers in a shoe box in his nightstand’s drawer. he only writes when no one is home, placing some sort of magazine or news paper on top so no one thinks to check ever again. he cannot go through that embarrassment another time.

darry, similarly to how ponyboy used to collect pens, used to collect coins. every time he’d see one on the ground, he’d pick it up and add it to the jar he’d keep them in. if it was a particularly nice-looking coin, he’d put it in some frame and leave it on his desk.

two-bit tried to join band in school, but wasn’t allowed because all he could play was a harmonica. by now, he brings it anywhere he goes. if the time is right, which he argues it always is, he will pull out and play an awful tune that pierces everyone’s ears, and makes them yell at him to stop.

steve cannot dance. it does not matter the kind of dancing you request he does, someone will get hurt. very likely, it will be him. one time, at one of sodapop’s birthday parties, he tried to dance but accidentally twisted his ankle and got sent to the er.

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shemarmooresfedora · 2 years

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Bad Excuses & Blue Slushies

Summary: After playing hard to get for so long, you finally agreed to go on a date with Steve. When he stands you up, he comes back with the strangest excuse as to why.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Content/Warning: no season 4 spoilers (season 3 spoilers though), fluff with some angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.9k

You hastily tied your red bandana around your neck as you ran into Starcourt Mall.

Your scuffed converse skidded along the tiled floor as you sprinted into Scoops Ahoy, headed to punch yourself in before you were late.

“I already punched you in,” Steve spoke from the register, handing change back to a customer.

“Thanks,” you heaved, hunched over and trying to catch your breath, “My. bike. broke. Had. to. run. over. 2. miles. in. this. stupid. fucking. uniform.”

Steve grinned, “Well, at least you still look as gorgeous as ever.”

“Ha-ha, very funny” you deadpanned, “I do a nice thing and agreed to cover Robin’s shift and this is how I’m repaid.”

“Wow, I’m hurt,” Steve clutched his chest in fake agony, “I pay you a compliment and I’m met with cold sarcasm.”

“Sorry if I find it very hard to believe that the Steve Harrington thinks a sweaty girl in an unflattering sailor’s costume is the epitome of beauty,” you retaliated.

“All the boxes on my dream girl checklist are ticked off,” Steve grinned, “What are you doing Friday night?”

“And how is that your business?” you inquired.

“Because I’m trying to ask you out,” Steve replied.

You let out an audible laugh, stifling it as a customer came into the shop.

“Ahoy there! What can I get for you today, matey?” you greeted them.

“Can I have a large chocolate overboard cone please?” the older woman ordered.

“Right away, ma’am,” you began scooping the ice cream.

“Come on,” Steve continued, “Give me one good reason you won’t go out with me on Friday.”

“Steve,” you chastised, “I’m with a customer.”

“She doesn’t mind. Do you?” Steve looked to the woman.

“Oh no, I’m loving this. Why won’t you go out with this hunk, sweetie?” she asked you.

“Steve, tell this woman where you were just last night?”

“On a date with Stacy Johnson,” he sighed.

“And two days before that?” you inquired.

“With Stephanie Williams but-”

You interrupted him, “I rest my case. $4.82, ma’am,” you handed her her ice cream.

“She makes a compelling case,” the lady handed you the money, “Have a good day, dears.”

“I can list more reasons if that’s not enough for you,” you grinned at Steve who scowled in return.

After cleaning up after the store had closed, Steve locked the doors as you waited for him.

“Until next shift, Harrington,” you waved goodbye to him as you entered the parking lot.

“Wait, your bike is broken,” he spoke.

“I’m aware,” you replied.

“Well, how are you getting home?” he continued.

“Walking, I guess. My parents aren’t home,” you shrugged.

“Let me give you a ride,” he offered.

“You live on the opposite end of town and we just worked a double, I’m sure you want to get home. I’ll be okay, really,” you assured him.

“I don’t feel comfortable letting you walk miles home in the dark. Just please get in,” he returned, opening the passenger side of his car

“Fine,” you sighed, getting in, “Thank you.”

Steve started the car and pulled out of the parking lot just before you added, “But if you try any funny business, I will snap your neck.”

Steve chuckled, “I’d expect nothing less.”

You rested your head against the window, completely exhausted after your shift. You hated to admit it but Steve was right. If you walked home alone in the dark, you probably would have fallen asleep in a ditch about half a mile in.

“Are you ready for the math test tomorrow?” Steve broke the relative silence of the car.

“I didn’t even know you knew I was in your class,” you snorted.

“Believe it or not, Y/N, I notice you,” Steve spoke.

You hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t believe it. Steve was popular, you were decidedly not. There’s simply no good reason he should have any interest in you whatsoever.

“To answer your question, no. I’m completely unprepared but I’m ready to wing it and hope for the best,” you responded.

“That's my strategy with everything in life,” Steve smiled.

He flicked on his blinker as he turned down your road.

“One chance, Y/N,” Steve spoke, “You go out with me Friday night and if it goes bad, I won’t ever bother you again. Deal?

“Why are you so hellbent on me going out with you? Have you seriously run out of all other options?”

“Is it really that hard to believe that I genuinely want to go out with you?” Steve asked, pulling into your driveway.

“Yes, very much so actually,” you spoke softly.

Steve put the car in park and turned to look at you, “I find you witty, intelligent, gorgeous, and overall remarkable. Yes, I do go on a lot of dates but that is because I’m trying to find the right girl for me. No one else makes me laugh like you do, Y/N. No one else could make me so excited to work an eight hour shift scooping ice cream in an overcrowded mall. Frankly, all the past girls don’t even hold a candle to you, Y/N. They’re boring and you’re so incredibly the opposite.”

You relented “Friday night?”

Steve smiled widely, “I’ll pick you up at 7.”

You opened the car door and slipped out of the seat, “I’m looking forward to being nowhere near how high your expectations of me are.”

Steve wholeheartedly laughed, “I’m looking forward to making you admit you actually had fun for once…and on a date with ‘the Steve Harrington’,” he quoted you.

“I’d. rather. die.” you grinned, “Good night, Steve.”

“Night, Y/N,” he waved and watched you until you were safe inside your house before pulling out into the road.

Friday night was finally here. You’d never admit it out loud but you were actually looking forward to hanging out with Steve. Even a bit nervous.

You doubted any of your normal wardrobe was suitable for a first date so you bought a sage green skirt at the mall after one of your shifts that week.

You paired it with a plain white tank top and your usual black high top converse (you couldn’t stray too far from who you really were).

You straightened your hair and almost poked yourself in the eye putting on mascara.

“Not too bad, Y/N,” you surveyed yourself in the mirror once you were finally ready.

You grabbed your purse and sat on the front steps of your house, waiting for Steve to arrive.

Ten minutes late was excusable, his hair routine was quite complicated and thorough.

Twenty minutes, maybe there was just really bad traffic.

Thirty minutes was pushing it.

You called it quits when the clock hit 8:01. If he tried to show up any later than this, you wouldn’t be going out with him regardless.

You sulked back inside and stripped off your outfit, trading it in for pajamas. You wiped off your makeup and put your hair up in a ponytail.

This is how your Friday night was supposed to go anyways, minus the crushing disappointment of being stood up.

You pulled a pint of ice cream out of the freezer and clicked on the TV, trying to distract yourself from the pain of rejection.

You woke up in the same spot on the couch the next morning, the TV still on and your empty ice cream carton sticking to the coffee table.

You had the opening shift at work today so you forced yourself to get up and change into that god-awful uniform.

Luckily, you managed to fix your bike so you could get to work on time.

However, that didn’t seem to matter because when you pulled into the parking lot, the mall was completely burnt to the ground.

You set your bike down on the sidewalk and ran up to a group of firefighters who were chatting.

“Excuse me?” you asked, “What happened?”

“We don’t know much of anything right now, sweetheart. Just that the whole place set ablaze last night. Two casualties,” he reported.

“May I ask who?” you gulped, suddenly concerned for Steve’s safety.

“Chief Hopper and Billy Hargrove,” he stated.

“That’s awful,” you shook your head in disbelief.

Sure, you weren’t really a big fan of Billy but you didn’t want him dead.

“You should get back home. I doubt you’ll be working for a while,” the firefighter turned back to his group.

You biked home, trying to process all this information. You must have zoned out and gone into autopilot because when you looked up from your handlebars, you were home.

Except there was a very unwelcome guest leaning against his car hood in your driveway, waiting for you.

His face was clearly swollen and bruised.

“Don’t you look pretty?” you quipped, hopping off your bike and pushing it up your driveway.

“Y/N, can we please talk?”

“Let me remind you of our deal, Harrington. I give you one chance and if it doesn’t go well, you won’t bother me ever again. Suffice to say, it didn’t go well. It didn’t go at all actually cause you didn’t fucking show up.”

“Yes but I have a really good excuse,” Steve countered.

“Try me.”

“I was kidnapped by Russians who have a secret laboratory under the mall,” Steve spoke like it wasn’t the most bizarre statement ever.

“Yeah, okay,” you laughed, “So when’s our next date?”

“Really?!”

“No, moron!” you snapped back, “Clearly, that’s so made up. If you’re going to lie, at least make it something believable. Or, just tell me the truth that you didn’t want to go on a date with me! Or even better, don’t ask me out just to mess with my feelings if you aren’t going to fucking show up,” you yelled.

You could feel the tears of frustration welling up in your eyes.

“Robin was there too! You can ask her,” Steve insisted, “Or Dustin. Dustin Henderson who comes into the shop all the time.”

“Sure thing, I’ll just ask your two best friends who would clearly lie for you and just believe every word they say,” you sarcastically replied.

“You have to believe me, Y/N. I seriously wouldn’t miss this date if this didn’t happen.”

“Please just go home and stop bothering me, Steve,” the tears started to roll down your cheeks, “Please.”

“Alright, I’ll go,” Steve relented, witnessing the pain he was putting you through, “Um, you have my number if you ever wanna call. I guess I won’t be seeing you at work for a while.”

“I think that’s for the best,” you sighed, wiping your eyes against your sleeve.

You turned to go inside and placed your hand on the doorknob.

“Is there any way I can make this up to you?” Steve called out.

“Not unless you can actually prove you’re telling the truth,” you spoke before heading inside and locking the door behind you.

“That’ll be $11.37, sir,” you slid the box of cigarettes and soda back across the counter.

The man handed you a twenty and you gave him his change before he returned back to his car at the gas pump.

Since the mall was still in ashes, maybe never to be rebuilt, you had to look for work elsewhere. You got a job at the gas station convenience store in town.

Despite not having to wear that stupid sailor uniform, you hated it more than Scoops Ahoy. It was lonely.

You wished the mall hadn’t burnt down. You wish you could still be scooping ice cream with Steve. And you wish he hadn’t stood you up so you could still hang out with him.

I mean you technically still could, but your pride wouldn’t allow you to go crawling back to him, only to be most likely stood up again.

A familiar maroon BMW pulled into the gas station. Great.

The bell chimed above the door, meaning he had entered but you kept your head down.

You heard his footsteps stop when he realized it was you behind the counter.

He cleared his throat, “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Got to make money somehow,” you replied.

“Twenty dollars on pump two,” he slid a twenty across the table.

“That all?” you asked.

“Add a large blue slushie and M&M’s too please,” Steve pulled out another five from his wallet before heading to fill his cup.

You handed him back his change as he set the cup back down at the counter. He pocketed the change and began to leave.

“Um, you’re forgetting your stuff,” you gestured to the counter in confusion.

“Oh, those are for you. They’re your favorites, right?”

“Yeah, they are. Um, thanks, I guess.”

“When does your shift end?” Steve asked.

You glanced at the clock, “An hour and twenty minutes.”

“Do you mind if I bother you once last time tonight?”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt, I’m already bored out of my mind. I’m literally counting holes in the wall at this point.”

“Okay, stay right there,” Steve spoke, “I’ll be back in 30.”

“It’s my job. I’m kinda stuck here,” you smiled ever so slightly.

“Right,” Steve remembered, “That was stupid. Anyways, I’ll be right back.”

You watched Steve run out to his car and swiftly pull out of the gas station.

“He forgot to get his gas,” you laughed to yourself as you refunded his money.

As promised, Steve was back in 27 minutes and 42 seconds. No, you weren’t counting.

He was followed into the store by a young girl who had her arms crossed.

“This is Erica Sinclair,” he introduced her to you.

“Um, hello,” you waved to her.

“Tell Y/N how you feel about me,” he prompted her.

“He’s a nerd who spends way too much time on his hair. He’s not very bright which might explain why the majority of his friends are like five years younger than him. And he wasn’t even that good scooping ice cream,” Erica sassed.

“So you agree she doesn’t like me?” Steve looked to you as you stifled a laugh.

“Yeah, I would say so,” you replied, giving Erica a high-five.

“Erica, what happened on the night of Friday, July 4th?” Steve asked her.

“I had to go through this tunnel in the ceiling at the mall because I was bribed with free cream for life. But then, we discovered this secret elevator and the older kids got captured. Basically long story short, we saved their asses from evil Russians who were trying to open up this portal thingy.”

“How do I know you’re not paying her to say whatever you want?” you asked.

“Oh, I’m being paid to come here,” Erica answered, “Erica does nothing for free. But I wouldn’t lie on this guy’s behalf just to get him a girlfriend who is way out of his league.”

“Okay, that’s enough from you,” Steve handed her a twenty, “Please go wait in the car.”

Erica happily skipped outside.

“I can’t say I believe it but I guess I’ll just have to trust you on this,” you spoke.

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

“Should I not be?” you questioned.

“No, you definitely should be. I’m 100% telling you the truth here,” he answered sincerely.

The more that you thought about it, it was way too crazy of a story to make up as an excuse. Plus, that would explain the bruises all over his face that morning. And the reason for the mall fire was still a mystery so you couldn’t exactly disprove him.

“One more chance, Harrington. I’m serious. No excuses this time, not even evil Russians.”

“Yes, thank you! I promise you won’t regret it,” he smiled widely.

“I really don’t know why this was worth all your trouble. A date with me already cost you twenty bucks in bribe money.”

“Worth every single penny,” Steve replied.

You just stared at him. How was he so damn charming all the time? You hated it. That was a lie. You were a sucker for it.

Your eyes flickered down to his lips. He noticed and smirked.

“Do you want to kiss the Steve Harrington, Y/N?” he spoke smugly, leaning over the counter.

“Nope.”

Such a lie.

“That’s a real shame cause I really want to kiss you,” he answered.

You blushed, finally giving in and leaning to meet him halfway. It was gentle and deliberate, as if he was scared one wrong move would have you disappear from his life again.

His hands came up to cup your cheeks, his fingers tangling in your hair. He tasted like peppermint gum and cherry chapstick.

When he pulled away, you felt like you were floating. Your lips tingled with a fuzzy sensation.

He leaned his forehead up against yours, “I have to bring Erica home before her bedtime. Lucas is covering for her.”

“Don’t forget to actually get your gas on the way out this time,” you whispered, smiling.

“Give me another blue slushie. I think they’re my favorite now too,” he grinned.

A/N: sorry if you were expecting a spencer reid fic lol. i tried writing for a different character, i would love to know what you thought <3

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington hurt/comfort

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reallyromealone · 6 months

Note

Ok ok can you PLS do a part 2 of that ‘resilient’ Eddie fic I NEED to know what happens😭 (If your requests are open) -🥮

Title: resilient

Chapter: 2

Fandom: stranger things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x male reader

Warnings: mentions of rape, angst, omegaverse, mpreg, reader goes through it, breakdowns

Notes: this took way longer than expected

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

"uncle Steve!" (Sons name) giggled as he was lifted by the older alpha "you ready to hang out today!" Steve said to his god son who nodded "yeah!" The boy said as (name) handed Steve a cute backpack "you be good alright ducky?" (Name) squished his sons face playfully and kissed his forehead "I will!"

(name) was thankful for his dad, Hopp doing anything he could to help his grandkid and used the daycare that came with being the police chief for their kid till he gets to kindergarten.

Though Hopp would have liked if his kid and grandkid moved back with him, (name) would be able to save better.

"(Name) I know you want to be independent but think about saving money, that money can be used for anything (sons name) needs or wants" hopp reasoned with his son and (name) fidgeted with the mug "you really want me back don't you?" He asked quietly, the older man nodding at his pup and (name)s eyes watered "I just want my pup to be safe!" He said and Hopp felt his heart ache at his son and set the mugs down and held him close as (name) sobbed "don't worry (cute childhood nickname) I got you"

"We moving?" (Sons name) asked curiously as he sat in his grandpa's lap, hop letting the little guy take some of his fries, (name) letting his dad buy them dinner "I need some help so you guys will be moving with me, you think you can help me squirt?"

"Yeah!"

Eddie was a mess.

His... His sweet (name)...

"Holy shit dude, are you alright?!" Dustin wanted to gag at the smell of alcohol as Eddie sat on the floor, eyes tear stained "he was raped, he was raped and I just fucking treated him like shit" Eddie said emotionless as he stared off "he was pregnant with my kid, did you know that? No fucking doubt he's mine... He's literally me"

Dustin halted as Eddie let his head fall onto his knees, holding back a sob.

"I need to go to Hawkins..."

(Name) was banned from helping move their belongings, assigned to keeping his pup company and ordering lunch "papa get chicken chunk" (sons name) whispered and (name) smiled "sure baby" he added it to the order along with pizza, wings and drinks (and garlic bread for Robin). (Sons name) was excited to have a bigger room just for him, (name)s childhood room turned into the pups bedroom with a cool (cartoon/game) bedspread from his grandpa and (name) got the guest room, all his trinkets I'm there. "Chicken chunks? Aren't you already my little chicken chunk, half pint?" Hopp teased as the pup stuck his tongue out playfully at his grandpa, the adults smiling at this interaction.

Dinner, bath and bedtime were all it took as (name) sat alone in his bed staring up at his ceiling as the sound of the clock in the kitchen ticked.

Here he was.

Back Home, in his childhood home with his dad and pup.

Sitting up be walked to a small shoe box he brought in himself, opening it to reveal trinkets, photos and letters, picking up a photo of everyone together and happy as teens.

He glared at nancys annoying face, he saw her a few times around Hawkins when she visited family but never interacted with her and she didn't interact with him, she ruined his life and he kind of hoped she would drop dead.

(Name) didn't grocery shop with his son, he didn't need the boy hearing how people talk about him being a single parent, the snide comments and rude remarks as he tried to make himself invisible under the florescents as his sneakers tapped against the older linoleum.

"Did you hear? Eddie "the freak" Munson is back"

"Yeah, he's like super rich, maybe I can get a sugar daddy"

"But spending time with the freak? Is it worth it?"

(Name) froze as he looked at the nutritional values of two cereals, throat closing up at this information he heard.

Eddie was back?

Why?

He tried not to think about the letters, the emails and messages or the letter he had gotten in the mail a few days after the last email he sent from Eddie's lawyer's, threatening legal action if he doesn't stop trying to contact Eddie with the threat of a restraining order, he took that as Eddie's answer to the concept of meeting his son.

Snapped from his thoughts and continued his shopping, trying not to let anxiety flood him.

He was probably visiting his uncle, the uncle who despised (name) with every fiber of his being-- even publically shaming him for his "whorish behavior" when he saw (name) not long after the breakup, solemnly believing that the fetus inside of (name) was the product of his "cheating" thus till the rape investigation came to light and Eddie had long been gone from town everyone thought he was a cheating slut.

Yeah (name) totally toootally moved on from that, the Alpha who treated him like one of his own turning and Screaming at him to the point of (name) nearly drooping.

Totally...

He wonders if the band came with, thinking of how many people he has to avoid... He wonders if Dustin was with him.

His little sisters friend-- well once friend, Jane burning all communication with Dustin after the young beta made his bed.

He should call her sometime... The girl currently at university with his step brother Will, will was crushed that his best friends did that to (name) and just cut ties with the whole group-- save for Steve and Robin.

"(--me)" "(--ame)!"

"(NAME!)" (name) snapped to look around, when did he get home? The Omega was putting away groceries as his dad looked concerned "I take it you heard?"

"I- yeah... I did..." (Name) said meekly as he fiddled with a container of coffee "do you... Do you think you could pick up (sons name)? I need to start dinner" their code for "I really need time to process and don't have the capacity for anything else right now" and the older alpha pat his sons back "I got you bite size" he said as he went to go get his grandkid "you know no matter what, I got your back right? You can depend on your dad"

"Thanks dad..." (Name) said with a soft, sad smile before he was alone in the house to think.

"Maybe I should go on that blind date Robin was talking about"

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #omega male reader #omegaverse #angst #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x male reader #stranger things angst #eddie munsin angst

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is-emily-real · 9 months

Text

In Love With The Boy

Richard couldn't care less that his son was gay. Quite the opposite, actually. He’d had his fair share of dalliances in his day, and he was glad Steve got to be open about that part of himself.

No, Richard Harrington had a problem with who his son chose to date.

“I don’t like this,” he said as he leaned against the doorway.

Helen touched up her lipstick in the bathroom mirror. “Like what?”

“This whole situation with the Munson boy.”

She fixed him with a glare. “Now, you swore to me that you’d love our son no matter what.” Even after all this time, she couldn’t drop her drawl when she was ticked off.

“No no, it’s not that. I just don’t think Eddie’s a good idea for Steve.”

“Oh. Well, can’t help love, I suppose.”

“I’ve heard some rumors about him from Darlene.”

“Baby, Darlene’s older than Moses. You ain’t gotta listen to her.”

“I do if I don’t want my coffee poisoned. That woman’s mean.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Eddie’s perfectly fine. Steve’s happier than he has been since he and Nancy broke up, and we are not going to ruin that for him.”

He put his hands up. “Alright, but I’m allowed to not like him. Father’s intuition.”

“What was it my daddy said the day we got married?”

“When he told my great-aunt I was dumber than a box of rocks or when he called me a no-good papist bastard in front of the priest?”

“Exactly. And it’s been twenty-three years since then. But,” she sighed, “if it makes you feel better, we can come home a bit early tonight, and I’ll talk to him before he leaves.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you. If we hurry, we can get seats by Alan and Brenda.”

Helen flashed that beautiful smile that’d caught his heart so long ago. “No, sir. You and Alan are trouble together.”

------

It was a lazy date, but one Steve wouldn’t give up for the world. He and Eddie were curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background that he didn’t give a damn about. Instead, he was distracted by the feeling of the man in his arms.

These moments were so different from how Eddie portrayed himself. Out in the world, he was larger than life, eccentric, untouchable. But here, under the blankets, he shared his softest smiles, undid him with the lightest touches. He told Steve stories he’s never told before, shared the little details of his experiences and questioned the meaning of the universe. He drew the same from Steve, until there was nothing in his life that he would hide from these intimate moments.

He traced the scars along Eddie’s sides. If Robin was his other half, Eddie was his compliment, fitting around his curves and edges just so. They moved with each other in intricate patterns, calming and encouraging in turn, bringing out the best and tempering the worst. He adored Eddie and felt adored.

No one had ever made him feel that way before.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked.

He hummed, pressing a kiss behind his ear.

“Where do you see us in the future?”

“Wherever. As long as you’re there, I’m happy.”

“Really? Anywhere?”

“I’d follow you to the moon if you asked.”

Eddie smiled. “I followed you into hell, so it’s only fitting.”

Steve laughed. “Of course.” He took a beat to consider it and continued, “I mean, we can get a little house somewhere and have a couple pets, babysit for the neighbors, grow a little garden. I’d like that.”

“I would too.” He flipped over so their chests pressed together, faces mere inches from each other. Eddie had a mischievous grin on his lips. “I get to pick at least one fight with someone on our street.”

“What for?”

“Blood feuds are the staple of suburbia, sweetheart. How am I to be properly domesticated if I can’t have that basic right?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Fine, but if it comes to blows, I’m not bailing you out.”

“What if they really deserve it? Not even then?�� He pouted, giving him those puppy dog eyes he couldn’t resist.

“You’re a menace.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

Steve pulled him close, basking in Eddie’s smile as he kissed him soft and slow. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have imagined that he’d be here with the whole world in his hands, content to let the hours pass by as they clung to one another.

He was safe. He was home.

Eddie drew back, fondness in his eyes as he posed the next question. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

His heart soared. “You mean…”

“Marry me, as soon as we can. Even if we have to run away.” Eddie slipped off the silver skull ring he always toyed with and held it out. “I’ll save up for wedding bands, I swear.”

He almost couldn’t get the words out, the way his heart pounded. “God, yes,” he whispered. The warm metal was snug on his finger, and then, then he was being kissed like the Earth was on the verge of collapse.

They held each other tight, joy and need spinning into something desperate that kept their lips moving against each other, hands tangled in clothes as they let gravity overtake them. Steve felt it snare around his heart, hook them together in a way he’d never protest.

He never had to let Eddie go again.

The crunch of tires in the driveway cut through his bliss. “Shit!” Eddie squeaked. “You didn’t say they’d be home early!”

“Maybe it’s just someone turning around.” The car came to a stop and cut off. “Son of a bitch.”

They sprang apart, rushing to make themselves presentable. His mother’s heels clicked up the steps.

Eddie’s eyes were as wide as saucers. He grabbed his wrist. “Hey. I love you, okay?”

One short nod. “I love you.”

The key rattled in the lock. He took a breath, composing his face into casual coolness before the door opened.

“Boys!” his mom called, wrapping him in a hug.

“Hey,” he replied, “how was tonight?”

“Oh, it was fine. I’m just a bit tired today, so we figured we oughtta come on home.” She frowned. “We did miss dessert, though. I think I’ll have a slice of pie before bed. Come have some, Eddie.”

She had him by the arm before he could protest. He threw a panicked glance over his shoulder, but Richard’s grip on Steve’s arm stopped any interference. “Steve told me you’ve got family in Tennessee. What part?”

“Just outside Savannah, ma’am.”

“You don’t want to get involved in that.” Richard let him go. “Let’s talk in my office.”

Steve felt like he was going to puke. He followed his dad down the hall, carefully sitting in the armchair across the desk.

Richard fell into the desk chair with a sigh. “You and him are seeing each other, correct?”

Cold sweat dripped down his spine. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yes.”

His dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why couldn’t it have been a good one like Tommy?”

Steve wasn’t normally this slow on the uptake, but it took a few moments for the dots to connect in his mind. “What?”

“You understand that you being with a man is going to make things harder for you, right?” He nodded. “And him having murder accusations worsens it.”

“Obviously false accusations.”

His dad smiled wryly. “Not the way a lot of people in town see it. And your mom went over those NDAs with a fine tooth comb. They’re watertight.”

“Hold on, are you mad that I’m in love with a guy, or are you mad that the guy is Eddie?”

“The latter, and I’m not mad, just disappointed.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “I’m not losing my only son because of who you fell in love with.”

The confusion must have been apparent, because he continued. “Your mother and I love you, and nothing’s going to change that. We just want to make sure you’re safe and he’s treating you right.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, um, yeah. Sorry, this… this is not how I expected this to go.”

“You know how to be a gentleman, and you shouldn’t tolerate any less from him.”

“He’s been perfectly sweet. Why— Why are you not freaking out about this?”

Richard gave him a look. “Have you ever really thought about how we call Terry your uncle even though he’s just Mark’s roommate and we’re not really related?”

“Well, yeah, they’ve lived together for fifteen… Oh.” The final piece clicked into place.

“Yep. Kinda saw it coming, to be honest. You’re a bit vain for your own good.” He shrugged. “You boys are being safe, right?”

“Dad!”

“And not just with the sex stuff. You can handle yourselves in a fight?”

Steve, despite never having won any fight against a human person, nodded.

“Good.” He stood and walked around the desk to wrap Steve in a brief hug. “You’re my son, and you’ll always be welcome here.” Just as briskly, he let go.

“Thanks,” Steve winced at the sound of his voice cracking.

Helen’s voice rang out warmly. “Good night, Eddie! Drive safe!”

He took that as his cue to step out. In the hall, he found Eddie, face pale and eyes wide as they flicked back and forth from his parents’ bedroom and the plate in his hands.

Eddie turned to face him with a haunted look. “I’m scared of your mom.”

Richard clapped him on the back. “We all are, son. You boys don’t stay up too late.” With that he walked down the hall, shaking his head. Eddie was smarter than he looked. Maybe it’d be good for Steve to keep him around.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #isemilyreal on ao3 #they're stupid your honor

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frost-queen · 6 months

Text

To his liking (Reader x Steve Raglan /W. Afton)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

A/n: This is my first time doing something for this fandom. I hope it is any good as I didn't have much time for my regular request so I whipped something up. Summary: In need of a new job you find yourself at Steve Raglan's office hoping he would find a job for you. [part 2 & part 3 ]

Your knee trembled nervously. Sweaty palms rubbing against your legs. You had read the posters in the little waiting room numerous times. All silly adds with cheesy lines. Your gaze drifted to the left where an elderly lady was typing loudly in her computer. Her face hidden behind the big box of a screen. The smell of her coffee adding a new scent to the already muffy smelling room.

You seated yourself better, feeling that your bottom had been hurting from sitting on that darn wooden stool for what seemed ages. Four wooden stools lined up against the walls in order to wait. Beside the stool on your right was a small table with old magazines. At least dated from five years back. Looking back around you started to wonder why you were even her. Yet the answer was very clear.

This was your last chance. Your last chance at making a change. Rubbing your sweaty palms over your legs again, you let yourself slouch down in the chair. Just a few more minutes and you might call it off. Simply get up and walk out as you weren’t getting anywhere. Waiting for ages. Waiting for that wooden door to finally open and allow you to meet your future.

The clock ticking almost tauntingly by the minute. It was agonizing to wait this long. It was almost as if they were testing your duration. See how long you would stand with it before throwing in the towel. Sighing again you moved your bottom to the back of the stool, leaning forwards. Palms in your hair. The lady behind her desk kept typing loudly without a care or notice of you.

This was it. You had enough. Leg shaking nervously. You jumped up with a deep breath. At the same time you got up, opened the wooden door. No one standing in the door opening. It made you stare at the door wondering if anyone else before you would head out.

A slim figure wearing glasses opened the door more standing in the opening. – “Y/n Y/l/n just who I was expecting.” – he said moving a bit back to create an opening. Somehow you kept staring at him. He chuckled waving you over. – “Come, come don’t be shy. I don’t bite.” – he teased with half a smirk.

Walking up to him you saw the lady behind the compute follow your movement with her head. Her expression dull and neutral. Pausing briefly in the door opening you looked up to the man. He smiled invitingly at you. With one soft breath you entered more as the door got shut behind you. – “Please, sit.” – he offered gesturing at another one of those uncomfy chairs. You sat down looking around his office. He walked behind you across towards the coffeemaker. You kept your gaze in front of you, pressing your hands between your legs.

A name clip standing on his desk. Raglan it read. Steve Raglan. – “Coffee?” – you heard him call out. Humming loud you snapped out of your little thought bubble. – “Oh uhm no thank you.” – you answered moving your hands away. Raglan went to his desk, sitting down across from you. He set his coffee mug aside. He leaned a bit back taking a file from his desk. He opened it leaning fully back.

Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his finger over his beard and mouth. You kept a close eye on his expression. His seriousness when his eyes trailed over the words. The way you felt a bit shy around him. He took a soft gasp of breath leaning forwards to the desk, laying your file down. – “I’m going to be honest with you Y/n… may I call you Y/n?” – he asked looking over at you.

You nodded hesitantly with a flush in your cheeks. – “With your record of work, it won’t be easy to find someone that would like to hire you.” – he said making you swallow nervously. – “Yelling and cursing at a parent.” – he read out loud with a slight shake of his head. – “Calling them a pervert and kicking them in the…” – he stopped as his gaze went up to you. – “Delicate area’s.” – he added waving his hand down his stomach to show you.

“That is unacceptable behaviour Y/n.” - he went on picking up your file again. – “He had it coming.” – you mumbled. Raglan curling up a smile. – “I’m sure he did.” – he responded as it startled you that he had heard you. – “I’m not hear to judge you Y/n but that wasn’t your first fall-out.” – he looked down at your file, flipping a page.

And another one. – “You have a history of being violent.” – his gaze flashed up to you. Was there a hint of a smile on him? Did your violent history amuse him? He placed the file down again leaning forwards as he folded his hands before him. – “It’s not going to be easy for you Y/n.” – his words echoing like doomsday in your mind. Were you done for it?

“So you got nothing for me?” – you asked trying to hide your fear of having nothing. Raglan licked his lips leaning back in his chair. – “I’m afraid so.” – he replied watching you closely. You broke. Leaning back to look up at the ceiling with the deepest sigh. You were ready to get up and walk out. What use was staying here if he had nothing to offer you.

Raglan picked up on your urge to get up and walk out. He got up making you freeze half way from getting up. You watched him go around the desk to come lean against the edge on your side. It made you sit back down eager to know what he wanted to say.

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. – “I might have something for you.” – he started sparking up your interest. – “The hours are brutal and the pay-check even worse.” – he went on. – “I don’t care.” – you said eagerly grabbing onto the railing of the chair. Raglan smiled. – “Ever heard of Freddy fazzbear’s pizzeria?” – he asked. You shook your head. – “It was a big thing in the eighties.” – he added. – “Before it got shut down.” – he finished looking down at you.

He looked briefly over his shoulder to your file on his desk. – “I read in your file you played dress-up for kid’s parties a few years ago.” – you hummed loud to acknowledge him. Raglan chuckled softly removing himself slightly from the desk. His hand grabbed for your chin, tilting your head back. His eyes locking with yours.

Somehow you didn’t push his hands away. Actually finding it mesmerizing how they held you. – “How do you stand against masks?” – he asked. – “Although it would be a shame to hide that pretty face of yours behind one.” - You felt your cheeks burn up from his words. – “What do I have to do?” – you asked as he let go of your chin. – “Dress up.” – he spoke plainly. – “I…I thought the place got shut down?” – you asked to be sure you had heard him correctly.

“You’d make a fine addition to the… family.” – he answered deflecting your question. – “The kids will love you.” – he muttered to himself. He took you by your hands making you stand up. – “What do you say Y/n do you plan on staying?” – he asked holding your hands dearly.

Having no other option you accepted. It didn’t sound that bad. Dressing up for some kids. As long as there weren’t any rude or perverse parents to test your temper. Raglan curled up a sinister smile.

-----------------------------------------