#preferably steve bottoming for all three of them

[itswhatyougive]

Listen, I just think someone should write a Stedonagyle fic

#preferably steve bottoming for all three of them #spicy steddie #steddie #stonathan #stargyle #<- i don't even ship stonathan or stargyle hxc but something about them + eddie unlocks something lol #they can all smoke and get real nasty #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie writing prompt #steddie fic ideas #steddie fic idea #steddie prompt #stoner boyfriends

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 9

As you guys wanted, here's me doubling up on posting days. It will (hopefully) be twelve hours apart so that each chapter can get some love.

In this chapter we have a lot of flirting between Eddie and Steve. The Party being "meh" *shrugs shoulders* at Steve being bi. And Robin being the most soulmate a guy could ask for.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!!

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

That night they were all gathered to watch the amateur theatrical society put on Much Ado About Nothing.

Even the ones who had been reluctant to join in were doubled over in laughter at the trick the Prince pulled on Beatrice and Benedict. The way they cried when Hero was accused of cheated on Claudio. And cheered when it was resolved happily ever after.

Mike complained about it all the way to the car. “We were forced to read this play in eighth grade and I hated it. I never knew it was funny.”

Eddie put his arm around his shoulder. “That is the unfortunate side effect of the education system. They suck the joy out of all of everything.”

“Normally I’m rolling my eyes at Eddie’s rants,” Robin said, “but I’m going to have to agree with him on this one. They just want sanitized versions of everything.”

Steve nodded. “Like what’s with the jump in American history when we stop in eighth grade at the Civil War and then all the way to WWII in eleventh grade, with only a brief mention of WWI as it related to WWII. Are they really trying to tell us that nothing happened in those eighty years of note? Like the fuck?”

Mike blinked at him. “Holy shit, I never even realized.”

The kids looked around at each other in shock.

“They push math and science,” Eddie continued, “but shit on everything else, except sports.”

He winced when realized what he had said. He looked over at Steve with an apology on his lips, but Steve was nodding.

“And they have to be the right sports, too,” Steve agreed. “Wrestling, swimming, soccer...anything outside the big three baseball, football, or basketball. Trust me, I got a lot of flack on being on the swim team. It was ‘gay’.”

“What?” Will squawked. “Why?”

Eddie licked his lips. “Little, teeny, tiny uniforms.” He emphasized the point holding his fingers not that far apart.

Dustin snorted. “Can’t be any worse than the basketball shorts.”

Steve looked upwards as he chewed on the bottom of his lip.

Dustin’s eyes bulged out of his head. “How much worse are we talking about here?”

“Speedo.”

Lucas frowned. “What the fuck is a Speedo?”

Eddie was practically vibrating in his skin. “Can I tell them, Stevie? Can I please?”

Steve let out a little sigh. The sigh the Party lovingly called his mom sigh. It was the sound he made when he knew no mater what he did it was going to end badly for him, so he just...let it happen.

He waved at Eddie to go ahead.

“Instead of swim trunks, that have a leg on them,” Eddie crowed, “Speedos are swim underpants. They cover the junk, the ass, and that’s it.”

“And you deliberately wore these things?” Max asked in interest. More interest than Lucas or any of the guys were comfortable with.

“I’m good at it,” Steve said, blush creeping up his ears and down his throat from the stain on his cheeks. “The uniform wasn’t as bad Eddie’s making it out to be.”

Gareth snorted. “Nope, they really are that bad. There was a period of time where–”

Eddie slammed his hand over Gareth’s mouth. “There’s no need to tell them about that, Gare.”

Steve looked over at Brian.

“Your senior year Eddie forced all of Hellfire to watch your meets.”

“Bri!” Eddie protested.

Steve looked over at Eddie and raised an eyebrow. “You like the...what was you it called it,” he said tapping his finger on his lips, “the ‘little, teeny, tiny’ uniform, Eds?”

Eddie threw his arms in the air. “I am but a gay man in a small town, so sue me!”

“I always preferred the lifeguard uniforms at the community pool,” Steve said. “Less wedgies.”

“Babe,” Eddie scoffed, “those shorts and tank left very little to the imagination. At least with the Speedo you knew what you were getting. With the lifeguard uniform it was all fantasy.”

Steve laughed. “I bet you were the kind who faked drowning to get CPR from their favorite lifeguard.”

“I can honestly say, I’ve never done that.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked all smiles. “Can you prove that?”

Eddie got up close to him and whispered, “Yeah, darlin’. I think I would have remembered you rescuing me before the Upside Down.” He winked at him and sauntered off. The rest of the band hastily said their goodbyes and hurried after their ride home.

Steve’s face was as red as his old life guard uniform. “Right. Let’s get home, yeah?”

Dustin eye’s narrowed at him for a moment. “Steve Harrington, are you crushing on my DM?”

The remaining eight looked at Dustin in shock.

“Dude!” Will hissed. “You can’t just ask that in public! What if someone overheard you?”

Dustin looked around and waved his hand around him. “There is literally no one here. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t think it was a safe time to ask. But I’m going home with my mom as soon as she gets here and I will not be stymied.”

Steve ducked his head. “And if I did like boys, that would be okay with everyone?”

Everyone just looked around at each other and there was this collective shrug.

“Do you still like girls?” Max asked, genuinely curious.

Steve nodded shyly.

Lucas frowned. “You can like both?”

“Like David Bowie!” El said with her serene smile. “He likes both. Freddie Mercury from Queen, too.”

Steve snapped his fingers. “Exactly like that, El!”

Her smile grew.

“It’s okay if you like Eddie that way,” Mike said softly.

All the heads snapped to look at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, okay. I have a lot to work on regarding the whole Lucas thing, but I’m not a complete ass.”

“Thank you,” El said and kissed his cheek. “You just have a lot growing up to do. We all do. We just need to give each other the chances to do so safely. Or at least that’s what Joyce keeps telling me.”

Steve gave her a hug. “Thanks, Supergirl.”

He looked out at all his friends. The people who were more his family then his own parents.

“I might have a small...” he raised his finger and thumb, “crush on a certain metalhead DM who recently joined the Party in March...”

Robin scoffed. “And by little he means huge!” She spread out her arms all the way out.

Dustin’s head snapped around to Steve. “If you two get together, he better treat you right. You deserve it.”

Steve blinked. Considering how Dustin had worded his original question, he had been sure that Dustin was going to him not to break Eddie’s heart.

He gave Dustin a hug and kissed the top of his head.

He really shouldn’t have doubted this kid.

Just then, Claudia pulled up in her station wagon and Dustin, El, Will and Mike all piled in after saying their goodbyes.

“He totally has the hots for you, by the way,” Max said dryly.

Steve blinked at her for a moment. “How do you know that? Does he spend all his days learning alt rock on his guitar or something for me?”

Max just blinked at him. “Huh. You aren’t as stupid as I thought.” And then she just started walking toward the car.

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “So to make sure I got this right, Max is saying Eddie has the hots for me because he’s been learning my favorite songs for me on his guitar?”

“That’s what it sounded like to me, man,” Lucas said with a half shrug.

“I’m with Lucas on this one,” Robin agreed. “So maybe you should do what I’ve been suggesting for the last three weeks and you know ASK HIM OUT!”

Lucas giggled.

“Shush you,” Steve admonished. “Get to the car.” He pointed at Robin. “You are spending the night with me to help plan out something cool.”

Robin saluted and Lucas just rolled his eyes and they all walked to the car to end another great night at the fair.

****

“Let’s play to your strengths,” Robin said, sitting cross-legged on Steve’s bed.

“Sports, sewing, and history,” Steve said, ticking them off on his fingers. “Fat lot of good that’s going to do me. It’s not as though I can whip out something overnight as a token of my affection.”

She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something fancy. You could do something small. Like maybe use that fancy red thread you got at the weavers yesterday.”

He blushed. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Everything I know how to make is either winter stuff or something he’d never use.”

“He uses that handkerchief all the time,” Robin pointed out. “You could do something like that.”

Steve flopped dramatically on his back. “Not if he knew it was made from that fancy thread I got. He’d want to protect it.”

Robin had to give him that one. Because that would be an Eddie thing to do. And while the sentiment was sweet it would make Steve sad that he never used it.

Suddenly Steve sat up. “Oh!”

She blinked at him. “What’s ‘oh’?”

“He was telling me just last week,” he explained, “that the bag he used to hold all his dice for their game got a hole in it and it kept spilling the dice all over the inside of his backpack!”

Robin grinned. “Let’s pick out the best material to match that pretty thread.”

Steve nodded. “I just have to make a quick phone call to find out how big the bag should be and I can have this done in no time at all.”

He called Dustin and told him his idea. Dustin was ecstatic and told him everything he needed to know.

Robin and Steve then dug into his material stores and picked out a nice black felt and a satin red lining to make doubly sure Eddie wouldn’t lose the dice down the gaping maw that was his backpack.

He then showed Robin how to make patterns and cut them. Then he got to work.

Even with how easily Robin got bored, she watched the whole time with fascination. How he embroidered his pattern into what would be the front of the bag. How quickly and evenly Steve stitched the pieces of cloth together. He explained the process every step of the way and her eyes just lit up.

He turned the bag right side out and fitted it with silver draw string. He pulled it taut and held it up to Robin to see.

She reached out and gently took it from him. “That’s so cool. You do a bunch of these at work and send them to Katie as way to gauge reactions to your work, while you make bigger pieces.”

Steve licked his lips. “You really think these would sell?”

“And I think Eddie would be pleased as punch that he got the first official Harrington Pattern design.”

Steve took it back from her and smiled. “That would make it even more special, wouldn’t it?”

Robin grinned. “Yes, yes it would.”

He threw his arms around her. “You’re the best soulmate anyone could possibly ask for.”

She blushed but held him tight. “You too, Stevie.”

When Steve finally pulled back he tapped his finger on his lips. “Now what to make you.”

Robin squealed. “But you already made something awesome. The pirate costume was amazing, you don’t have to do more just because you made Eddie something.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, but I just tailored the clothes. I didn’t make them. I want to make you something.”

She scoffed. “Like the only thing I need are gloves for marching band. Since I have to have hand-me-downs, they are either too tight or way too big.”

His eyes lit up. “I’ve never made gloves before. That would be fun and interesting to try.”

“How would you even measure something like that?” Robin asked, a small amount of hope creeping into her voice.

Steve grinned. “Do you remember those ugly ass hand turkeys they made us draw in elementary school?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Just. Like. That.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wait are you serious?”

Steve just grinned.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

I'm not 100% sure my history experience in school is universal in the US, but in order to bridge the gap you actually had to an elective history class called Twentieth Century. Like it was straight up bullshit. And before you ask, you can bet your ass I took that class. It was taught by my favorite teacher. Of course I took that class.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @microbiology @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

[r-is-typing]

mr. clingy | s.h

summary: in which steve crashes girls night

requested?: yes! requested by anon!

request: Can you write a Steve harrington imagine where his girlfriend is having a girls night with Robin, Max and El but Steve crashes girls night cause he misses her?

pairing: steve harrington x reader

category: tooth-rotting fluff

content warnings: mentions of sex

word count: 1k

authors note: hi, anon! thank you so much for the request, i absolutely loved this idea <33 and the idea of clingy!steve has my heart in pieces ahh

hope you enjoy!

Steve Harrington was a clingy boyfriend.

He was so clingy (or what he called ‘super in love’) that he and Y/N had sleepovers almost every day. Y/N’s parents had known Steve as long as Y/N had, since the two were in diapers. So, sleepovers at Steve’s didn’t phase them.

Steve preferred having sleepovers at his house rather than hers because they could be alone, just the two of them, pretending like they lived in their own house, with no one to bother them.

Because of this clinginess, it wasn’t very often that Y/N hung out with the girls. El, Max, and Robin begged her for weeks to just ask Steve if she could go, basically telling her that she didn’t have to, she could just go.

Of course this was true, but Steve and her had an understanding. She knew Steve would be sad if she just up and left, so she waited until he got home — Steve’s house — to ask him.

“Stevie, baby?”

Steve looked up from the book he was pretending to read. “What’s up, sweet girl?” He smiled widely, pulling her onto his lap. Y/N trailed her fingers down his chest, a soft smile playing across her features.

“Do y’think you could drop me off at Hopper’s? The girls want to have a sleepover, but you know none of us drive.”

Steve lets out a whine, kissing the underside of her jaw. “Do you have to?” This makes Y/N giggle. She hated to admit it, especially to the girls, but she loved when Steve got like this.

She just loved the feeling of being wanted and loved, especially by Steve.

“Please, Stevie?”

Y/N pouts, jutting out her bottom lip, knowing Steve wouldn’t be able to resist her then. “I’ll make it up to you…” She pressed a kiss to his ear, whispering making Steve grip her waist tighter.

“Alright, fine, go get ready.”

He pats her butt and she squeals, running upstairs to the bedroom and packing a bag.

Twenty minutes later, they arrive at Hopper's cabin, the girls running out to greet her. “You finally let her out of the house, Harrington?” Robin smirks and Y/N pushes her shoulder.

The three go inside after saying goodbye to Steve.

The four spent the next three hours taking tween magazine quizzes, doing facemasks, sharing secrets, and laughing.

“So, tell us. Is he good?”

Y/N looks up from the cheesy magazine she’s reading in confusion. “I’m sorry?” Robin rolls her eyes, not getting how Y/N didn’t understand. Max continues, “Steve! Is he good in bed?”

Y/N chokes on the water she was drinking.

“I’m not talking about it. You’re both too young, and even if you weren’t, that’s still none of your business. Mine and Steve’s sex life have nothing to do with any of you, only Steve and I.”

The two youngest girls giggle loudly, Robin covering her ears. “But, I’ll say this. As far as anyone is concerned, he’s at the top of my list.”

A knock on the door startled them. “Oh, it’s probably the pizza!” El smiled widely, and Max gets up, leaving the room to go and answer the door. The room becomes silent as they wait for the delectable food they had been dreaming of all day.

“Y/N wins.” Max says, swinging the door open as she walks in, a smiling Steve Harrington behind her. “Baby!” His smile got surprisingly wider as his eyes landed on his girlfriend who looked back at him in confusion.

“What are you doing here?”

Y/N giggled as Steve buried his head into her neck, scattering kisses across the smooth skin. “Missed you, love.” She rolls her eyes.

“Well, ladies. If Stevie wants to join our little party, I think we should let him.”

Robin shares a smirk that the other three reciprocate. Steve peeks his head up. “What does that mean?” El holds up a face mask and nail polish as she giggles.

“Oh no. No chance in hell, you three. Baby, c’mon. You won’t let them do that to me, will you?”

Y/N looked up at her boyfriend, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, m’love. Rules are rules.” She pulled Steve to the floor, beginning to apply the face mask across his face, smoothing it around his eyes and his nose.

“You look…. pretty, Harrington.”

Max giggles, hiding behind Eleven as Steve glares at her. “You really do, baby.” Y/N smiles, patting his chest with her newly manicured hand.

“So, Max, El, how are your relationships going?”

Y/N smiles softly, leaning against Steve. The girls all go back into their, what Steve called ‘gossip mode’. Steve trailed his fingers up and down her arm, a soothing feeling coursing through Y/N as she sat there, listening to what the girls were telling her.

“Wait, hold on a minute.”

The girls looked at Steve. “What did you mean when you said ‘Y/N wins’, Mayfield?” Y/N’s eyes widened and they all began to giggle.

“What’s so funny? I don’t understand!”

Y/N looked up at Steve and shrugged. “Oh, just tell him, Y/N. We all bet how long it would be until you showed up here, Mr. Clingy.”

“I bet two hours.” Max shrugged.

“I bet four.” El looked at the couple, smiling.

“I bet half an hour.” Robin smirked.

Steve looked down at the girl in his arms. “And you, pretty girl?” Y/N smiled sheepishly. “I bet three and a half. Sorry, baby.” Well, good thing Y/N knew her boyfriend so well that she was able to time it perfectly and win the bet.

“To think you had more faith in me!”

Steve hides his head into her neck once more. “It’s not my fault, baby. I’m sorry.” The girls, minus Robin who rolled her eyes, smiled.

“Yeah, Harrington. It’s not your girlfriends fault that you’re Mr. Clingy.”

Y/N kisses his lips softly, tracing the details of his face with her fingers. “My clingy boy.” Steve looked lovingly at her. “Oh, how I love you so, sweetheart.”

“Ugh, gross.” Robin groans, but shares a smile with Max and El as they watch one of, if not, the cutest couple in Hawkins share an intimate moment together.

Maybe it was a good thing that Steve was so clingy after all.

#steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #requests open #reqs open #request #r-is-typing

[solarmorrigan]

💘 for the ask game? Might have a preference for the dare kiss if the inspo strikes you... 👀

Inspo did, in fact, strike me (thank you for the prompt!)

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss

Prompt from this post

CW: alcohol use

-

Eddie doesn’t know whose brilliant idea this was, but they owe him for emotional damages.

Like–

Look, Eddie had really only ever attended high school parties as a dealer, had had very little interest in them otherwise, and thus has never played any of those cheap excuses for a chance to swap spit that they called games. Not truth or dare, not seven minutes in heaven, and not—Eddie watches in dizzy fascination as the empty beer bottle twirls and twirls in the center of the circle—spin the bottle.

Except someone had suggested it, and the rest of them had been just drunk enough to decide it was a great idea and join in.

Except Eddie is pretty sure this game is supposed to be played with classmates you don’t really know; people you barely remember in the morning and whose eyes you can avoid in the hallways at school on the following Monday – not two girls Eddie helped save the world with, the boyfriend of one of the aforementioned girls (and possibly the boyfriend of the aforementioned boyfriend? Eddie’s not sure what’s going on there), three guys he’s been friends with since middle school, and–

–the bottle stops, and Robin lets out a whoop. It’s pointing to the spot directly to Eddie’s right, the spot filled with none other than–

Steve Harrington.

The current bane of Eddie’s existence, with his stupid, pretty face and his stupid, soft-looking hair and his stupid, dry sense of humor and the way he’s stupidly sweet to Eddie and the way he’s smiling at stupid, stupid Eddie right now, who has a stupid, embarrassing crush on the guy, and now Eddie has to kiss him because the beer bottle says so. It’s the law, or something.

Eddie swears he hasn’t actually had that much to drink; he’s pretty sure proximity to Steve just does this to his brain.

Steve keeps smiling at him, amused, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Well?” he goads gently, elbowing Eddie in the side. “You gonna back down, or are you gonna kiss me, Munson?”

And– okay, one, Eddie has never backed down from a dare in his life, mostly because he operates on at least seventy-five percent impulsive thought power, and two, there’s no way Eddie isn’t going to take the chance to kiss Steve. It might not be the way he wants, but it also might be the only chance he’s going to get, so he turns and curves a hand at the side of Steve’s jaw—to steady Steve or to steady himself or maybe because he just wants to touch—and leans in and presses his lips to Steve’s.

And he tries to keep it PG, alright? He tries to keep it close-mouthed and soft, as easy and meaningless as the short kiss Robin had laid on him a few moments ago that had made it his turn to spin the bottle in the first place – he tries, but then someone (maybe Gareth? Hard to say, the world outside of Steve and Eddie has gone a little wishy-washy) shouts, “You call that a kiss?” and, well–

Eddie’s never backed down from a dare in his life.

(And if this is the only opportunity he’s going to have to kiss Steve, he figures he might as well milk it for all it’s worth.)

So he tilts his head, and parts his lips, and finds that Steve’s tongue is already there, hot and wet and licking into his mouth like he’s starving for it, teasing Eddie’s tongue back into his own mouth and sucking, and–

Eddie pulls back before the embarrassing noise he can feel building up in his chest can work its way free. He blinks at Steve, who is staring right back, eyes wide and starry, pupils blown, his mouth still hanging open a little as he pants for air, his bottom lip full and shiny in a way that makes Eddie want to dive right back in and bite him a little bit.

In fact, he’s very close to doing just that until someone’s voice breaches their little bubble.

“Well, Steve?” Robin prods, sounding far too amused for anyone’s good. “Are you gonna take your turn?”

“Nah.” Steve shakes his head, eyes still trained on Eddie as he stands up. “I think I’m out. Eddie?”

Eddie’s on his feet before Steve can even finish saying his name. “Right behind you.”

And then Steve is smiling again, eager and maybe—dare Eddie think it—a little smitten, and he grabs Eddie’s hand to drag him somewhere a little more private, somewhere away from the catcalls coming at them from the circle of friends they’re leaving behind, who Eddie pays absolutely no mind to because finding the nearest clear surface he can crowd Steve against feels more important.

Eddie doesn’t know whose brilliant idea spin the bottle was, but he owes them a goddamn fruit basket.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #this one was fun! #it's also the last one I have to post for a bit but if you've sent in a prompt in the last week I'll work on it soon #eddiesteve #solar wrote #answers from solar #anonymous

[biteofcherry]

For the nesting series I’m curious as to which doors in the house would have locks

What would Steve do if the reader locked/baracaded herself in the bathroom

If you lock yourself in the bathroom (or any other room) there aren't any threats made. No banging on the door, or trying to break it down. Steve gives you a few minutes to yourself - he's generous like that.

After a while, weird little clicking draws your attention, your head snapping toward the door. With a frown you keep listening to the unusual scratching sounds.

Suddenly the door simply opens, revealing Steve on the other side.

He grins at you, dangling a set of shiny lock picks in his hand.

"You didn't think I was at the head of things right away?" He steps inside, slowly walking toward where you're perched on the edge of the bathtub. "I started from the very bottom. And I was good at it."

"Now-" he stands in front of you, hands on his hips- "if you ever need alone time, you can use any room. But no locking yourself in. That's too risky in your state."

It's not like your early pregnancy is a high risk, there aren't many downsides to it aside from morning sickness and swelling feet. And though your lab results came back quite good, Steve has proved to be awfully cautious and overprotective.

Damn him for that, because you find it sweet and comforting. While you should despise his growing control over you.

"You look tense." Steve tilts his head to the side as he watches you.

Gently, he cups your cheek and moves his caress down your neck and onto your shoulder.

"Want me to draw you a bath?" he smiles, rubbing your shoulder. "Doctor Cho said as long as the water temperature is moderate and we don't use fragrances, a bath is completely safe in pregnancy."

You narrow your eyes, your nose scrunching. The fight still going on inside your head, though it's been over three weeks now since he picked you up from the clinic.

Steve Rogers is still the most dangerous man in the city; possibly not only with his hands bloodied, but all of him, considering how many speculations there are about him (you're sure in reality it's at least twice worse). Yet he's also so attentive and caring, something your body seems to crave more and more these days.

"Yes, please," you grumble, still glaring at him and Steve chuckles.

"See, it can be good, if you let it." He tilts your chin up with one finger beneath it.

"Get up, honey," Steve's voice remains soft, but there's a snap of command to it. "I'll help you undress."

Now when it comes to which doors are locked - none of them are.

~ * ~

You managed to suppress your curiosity for nearly two weeks. Holding onto your anger and resistance, you refused to use the whole space of the huge penthouse; limiting yourself to two rooms and thus being the one locking herself in figurative tower.

Steve urged you to explore, to use the space freely and consider making any changes you wished. You preferred wallowing in your self-created prison.

But as the days passed, and especially in moments when you were completely alone in the apartment (your snarky bodyguards either staying outside, or raiding the fridge), your curiosity to see the rest grew.

Most of all, you felt compelled to check out the side of the penthouse of which Steve didn't give you a tour.

While he took you through almost every room, the left side remained an unknown. It lured you daily; your gaze shifting that way when Steve left the apartment.

Today you finally gave in.

Taking slow steps, you listened to any footsteps or voices alarming of company nearing. But there was only silence and your breathing. 

One door in a dark-blue corridor was open. It led to a small, but impressive library; with bookcases made of metal and dark wood, a small cabinet with liquors, and two velvet chairs. A little further down the corridor there was another door, closed. And it made you even more curious. 

You stopped in front of it, fingers itching to touch the knob. You doubted you’d be able to open them without a key, but couldn’t help your hand to reach. 

Your fingers stilled around the knob as you prepared yourself mentally for what you may see inside. 

“What do you expect to find there?” 

You jumped with a squeak at the unexpected sound of Steve’s voice.

How the fuck did he sneak up on you without you hearing his steps?!

And he was standing there, leaning against the wall, with his hands casually in his pockets. He didn’t seem angry at you. Rather amused with your expression. 

“I-” you gulped, hand dropping down instantly. 

“I don’t know.” You replied, daring to look him in the eye. “Something... forbidden.” 

“Ah.” Steve nodded, walking towards you. “You think it’s a room where I do my dark deeds.” 

He cornered you against the door, his eyes darkening. Your breath hitched when he slid his arm around you. His hand reached for the knob behind you and just like that the door opened. No key needed. 

Steve pushed you inside, constantly in the way of your potential escape. 

The room was brighter than you expected. Two windows let the daylight in. Light gray walls kept the brightness spread. The furnishing was of a modern office, with brown leather chairs, dark shelving, and a desk that looked like a polished black stone. 

Before you knew it, he had you pinned against the desk. Steve gripped your hips and with one effortless move sat you up on the cool surface. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, a little breathless. 

“Dark deeds.” Steve’s chuckle was a low caress against your lips.  

#anonymous #reply #nesting #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #mafia steve rogers #steve rogers smut #mafia steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers

[atinylittlepain]

Chapter One

90s!steve harrington x f!oc

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He got out, hopped one state over, and planned on continuing an anonymous existence of cold beds and numbers scribbled on forearms. One small problem in that plan, or maybe one big problem.

warnings | 18+ smut, angst, columbus OH deserves a TW in and of itself (i love it so)

a/n | I am so excited to be sharing the first chapter of this series. A very special thanks must be given to @pr0ximamidnight who lets me scream about these characters all the time, and who also made the absolutely amazing artwork for this fic! As always, I'd love to hear what you think of this one, drop me a line :)

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“You coming tonight?”

“Who’s playing?”

“Up and coming, you haven’t heard of them.” 

“Oh, so they’re shit then?” 

“Don’t be a snob, Steven. Even your beloved Elliott Smith started out as a nobody. Hell, he still is a nobody.”

“You told Art that I’d cover the front tonight, didn’t you?” The silence is enough of an answer. Steve sighs.

“Eddie.” 

“Come on, Steve. Money is money, I don’t see why you’re complaining when I was gracious enough to get you a little more of it.” His so very gracious roommate is already halfway out the door, a grin and shrug that tells Steve there will be no squirming out of this. Great. 

It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy a trip to the Newport Club, especially not when it’s free and all he has to do is check tickets and let girls feel him up a little on the way into the music hall. But it’s  Wednesday, and he has work tomorrow, and he’s feeling a little more pitiful than usual since their AC unit busted out and has yet to be fixed. Their landlord told them he would be getting to it about two weeks ago, and Steve is starting to wilt around the edges in the close grip of the heat and humidity. So no, he’s not really feeling a gig at the moment. But yes, money is money, and he doesn’t have much time to whine to himself about it when he’s already running late to his shift at Katzinger’s. 

Columbus has been good to him, something he is reminded of every morning when he bikes across town to get to the deli. Urban enough to be anonymous, but still cheap enough for him to pay rent with the patchwork jobs he does. And not Hawkins, so it’s already miles ahead just because of that. 

“I got lox no schmear for Tiffany. There you go, sweetheart, have a nice day.” Tiffany left her phone number at the bottom of her receipt for him, a little heart too. Yet another way Columbus has treated him well, the bevy of OSU students that seem to like what Steve has going on. Eddie calls it his “soft-prozac look,” whatever the hell that means. Certainly different from his polo shirts and varsity jacket days, but a whole lot else has changed since then.

Things are easy, simple, and he likes it that way. Making sandwiches and smiling at coeds until three, a new Tiffany every week, no strings, no stress. And the music scene at the fringes of campus. While his roommate prefers a sound with a little more edge, Steve prefers the softer, sadder stuff, and there’s plenty of it getting passed around on burned CDs and in the dim, dank bars downtown. That’s how he first started picking up gigs at the Newport Club. Art took one look at him, the remnant strength from the days of the king, and stuck him out front with a scowl and a folded wad of cash. Not to mention the perk that once the crowd is packed in, he gets to lean in the doorway and turn his good ear to the music.

…

She’s running late. Actually, she was running late twenty minutes ago. Now it’s just laughable. And somewhere in the slow slump of afternoon into evening, it has started raining. So there’s that, the hem of her skirt sticking and sweating around her ankles, skin turned tacky in the humid air. But she’s a little too focused on digging her ticket out of the bottom of her bag as she does a sort of jump-walk toward the club.

Who was it again? A friend of a friend’s boyfriend who had an extra ticket to this new band’s gig. She can’t even remember the name. Probably something precious and pretentious like toaster aneurysm. 

Shit, not good, not even the remnants of a crowd still waiting outside the venue, just some guy with his arms folded over his chest, leaning in the doorway with one doc marten crossed over the other. His eyebrow cocks, a crack of his gum rolled with his jaw when she approaches. She can hear the dull thrum of a bass coming from inside, already started.

“Hi, I’m here for the show, here’s my–”

“The show started fifteen minutes ago, sweetheart.” It’s a little stunning, not snappy, but entirely bored in the way he says it, sighing and slumping back against the wall, a flick of his chin to toss his thick flop of hair out of his eyes. 

“Okay, so? Just take my ticket and let me in.” Not in the mood, not that she ever is, for this bullshit tough guy act. Said tough guy squints at her, tongue poking in his cheek like really, this is a grave inconvenience to him, when he could have already taken her ticket and let her in and gotten back to his brooding hunch. 

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“I’m Steve.”

“Good for you, Steve.” Great, he thought that was funny, a huff of a laugh and half a smile, perfect teeth and frustratingly perfect dimple. She was going for bitchy, actually. When he finally uncrosses his arms from over his chest, hooking his knuckles into the pockets of his pants, she gets a better look at his t-shirt. He must have shrunk it in the wash, or maybe it’s intentional, the way it fits so snug that the muscles in his arms bulge over the sleeves, the I heart metal  logo stretched to burst across his chest. Elliott Smith fan, so at least he’s got that going for him. 

“Are you really not gonna let me in?” 

“Are you really not gonna tell me your name?”

“It’s Ruth, okay?

“That’s an old-fashioned name.”

“So is Steve.” By now, the band has already gotten through two more songs since she got here, and she’s starting to think she’s going to have to resign herself to listening to scraps through the propped open door. For his part, Steve seems perfectly content with the situation, his chin tilted toward the sound as he pulls a menthol out of his back pocket and lights it up. For her part, Ruth is just annoyed enough to reach out and swipe the cigarette from his fingers before it makes it to his mouth, taking a smug inhale as he lets out a petulant whine of hey.

“If you’re gonna keep me out here, the least you can do is offer some refreshments.” To be fair, the more she hears of the music dripping out from the club, the less interested she is in joining the crowd, some kind of post-punk shoegaze dirge-fest from the sound of it. And no, it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the long line of his throat when he lets smoke seep out in a hiss, head tilted back to keep his exhale from washing over her face. No, nothing to do with that, and nothing to do with the way the tendons in his forearms jump, all spilled shadow when he offers her back the cigarette. No, definitely nothing to do with that either. 

“Are you a student?” 

“No, are you?”

“No, so what do you do then?”

“I work at the library.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hmm. What about you?”

“I work at Katz, you know? Over in german village?”

“Yeah, everyone knows Katz. I like Brown Bag better though, they’ve got that tofu cream cheese.”

“Who the hell likes tofu cream cheese? Are you vegan or something?” Rapid fire, somewhere in the volley she has mirrored his posture, her shoulder brushing against his as she rests back against the wall, fingers flickering back and forth, trying to sip down the last few drags of their shared cigarette. 

“No, I just like the taste better. Regular cream cheese gives me the heebies.” He hums, the dip and bob of his throat catching the warm shock of the streetlights. She lets herself watch him for a beat, the quick flit of her eyes away from his when he looks right back at her. Back and forth like that, she collects up every freckle she can find, the two on the side of his neck, on his cheek. Pretty boy at rest. The music is mere afterthought.

…

He’s glad he decided to be difficult tonight. The truth is, he really isn’t supposed to let people in after the set starts, something about code violations and fire hazards. But usually, he’ll nod along a few stragglers hurrying into the club, no big deal. Chalk it up to the heat, to no AC, to whatever, Steve was not feeling so generous tonight, and he’s never been so grateful for his snappy streak as he is right now.

“What size shoe did you say you are?” He’s not entirely sure how things unraveled to this. Him, with his shoeless, socked foot hovering just above the sidewalk, and her, holding her sneaker in one hand, with his doc marten on her foot, giving a few experimental shuffles in it, the hem of her skirt swirling around her shins with it. 

“Men’s twelve, probably too big for you, honey.” Her nose scrunches, mouth screwing to the side like she can’t possibly stand being called that. He tucks that away in his mind through the constant din of the concert going on inside.

“Hmm, I think I could make it work if I doubled up my socks.” 

“You gonna steal my shoes, is that your angle?”

“Well, I do need a refund for my ticket since someone wouldn’t let me in.” He scoffs, dipping his chin to hide behind his hair, just a little, buying time to think of something clever to say back to her. 

“Judging by that noise, I think I did you a favor actually.” Ruth grins, and as if on cue, a particularly discordant warble of guitar whines through the door, both of them wincing at it.

“Maybe you’re right. How much longer you think they got?” She wobbles to the side as she toes out of his boot, and Steve moves before he can think, one hand to her waist, one cupping her elbow. Up close like this, he can see the way her eyeliner has smudged at the edges, a stray speck of it on the arc of her cheek. But it’s catch and release, a laugh light in her chest as she pulls away to put her own shoe back on. 

“I’d say they’re wrapping up. We could, you know, get out of here if you wanted to.” Fun, right? That’s what this is. The flirt and flair of it, a game they both seem to be intent on. 

“Where are we going, Steve?” She tilts her head, sing-songing his name.

Steve is good at this, the logistics of it all. Hers or his. His, they decide, because hers is further away. And mercy, Eddie has been shacking up with the produce stocker from the natural grocery store over in Bexley, so they don’t have to worry about being quiet when they stumble through the door to his apartment. 

Graceless, groaning into her mouth when his hip hits the corner of the kitchen counter, and then a different noise entirely skittering up the back of his throat when Ruth’s palm finds the hurt and rubs it out with quick heat up under the hem of his t-shirt.

Here’s the thing, most of the time, he prefers to keep his shirt on. It’s not that anyone has been rude or repulsed by the scars that splay over his skin. Something much worse. A pitying thing, a pitiful thing. The drop of their brow and a pulled frown and oh my gosh, what happened to you? Yeah, he’d prefer to keep his shirt on most of the time. But right now, he wants a little more. A little more sense, a little more touch, a little more of her palms on bare skin. So it’s more feel than thought when he tugs his shirt off over his head, shivering down with it when she noses down his neck to drop her lips to the top of his shoulder. Bruise-colored kisses, he doesn’t resist the urge to thumb away the smear of her dark lipstick in the corner of her mouth. She chases after his touch, a kiss to the pad of his thumb before her grin turns sharp with the nick of her teeth. 

…

Pretty boy is pretty all over. Freckles all over, she maps them with her mouth, a slow sneak down his stomach to the waist band of his briefs. And he’s got a bedframe too, bonus. Yeah, pretty all over, flushed-pink tip when she slides his briefs down his thighs, just enough for the thick weight of him to smear pearling pleasure over the coarse hair trailing down his clenched stomach. She’s no better though, thighs clenching together in useless friction where she’s kneeling between his legs, cotton underwear that used to say Wednesday on the front and a bra that’s just as old. She really hadn’t been expecting something like this, though Steve doesn’t seem to mind, lips parted in a ghost of a swollen smile, eyes hazy with want.

“Can I?”

“You can do whatever you want, honey, fuck.” She has to temper her grin when she takes him into her mouth, pleasant pain and pressure in the hinge of her jaw because Steve certainly has something to brag about. Impossible to take all of him, she settles for laving her tongue over the vein running the underside of his cock, spit-slick palm curling around the rest. Pretty boy pretty all over making pretty sounds too. Huffs of breath that turn into groans when she swallows around him, muscle jumping under her palm that’s pressed over his stomach, her nails grazing in an implicit command. Take what you are given, pretty boy. And he does, perfectly, preening under her touch, little pants of fuck, s’good, really good that shiver straight down her spine and into her pelvis. She only realizes that her hand that isn’t working the base of him has dipped down into her panties when Steve lets out a ragged shit, that’s hot, lashes dropped down to his cheeks with the way he’s staring at her. And then it’s all quiet c’mere, c’mere, honey, insistent hand at her jaw coaxing her up, clashing teeth when they both misjudge the first kiss, and then a sigh when they get the second one right.

“You have condoms, right?” 

“Yeah, I got it, just let me–” She doesn’t exactly make it easy, mouthing at his neck as he leans over to rifle through his nightstand, jostling her in his lap with a frustrated huff that she doesn’t like the sound of.

“Fuck.”

“Are you, like, out?” He settles back against his headboard with a sigh, an answer in and of itself. 

“I bet my roommate has some though. Gimme a sec, I’ll be right back.” Quite the show, his bare ass shuffling out of his room. She lays back on the mattress, maybe wishful thinking in taking off the rest of her clothes, though Steve is quick to return with a grin and a foil packet pinched between two fingers. 

“You sitting pretty like that for me, honey?” A little wolfish, animal and annoying in how smug he smiles as he climbs onto the end of the bed, catching her knee before she can close her legs, palm smoothing down the inside of her thigh. 

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Steven.” 

“Steven, huh?” He tilts his head, almost absent-minded, his eyes hooded and heavy, dropped to the crux of her hips. She can’t help her quiet gasp when he drags his thumb through her swollen cunt, pad of his finger notching at her entrance, teasing, testing, before smearing back up to her clit in a lazy arc. 

“Fuck, that’s pretty. Are you ready for me?” Cocky, but also clear care. She leans up on an elbow, puling him down by his nape before her stupid heart can kick up too much at the sentiment. His hair tickles against her sternum, forehead pressed there so he can look down at his fumbling with the condom wrapper, clearly distracted, maybe by the way she’s trailing her foot up and down the back of his leg, dark nail polish against tan skin. 

It’s a stretch, of course. Perfect ache in her hips, all she can manage is an uh-huh high in her throat when he asks her if she’s alright. And then deeper, taking more of him, all of him until it’s Steve letting out the pathetic sounds, something like a whimper that she laps up, tongue flickering behind his teeth. 

The rest is a slow, spiraling, slump. It’s obscenely warm in his room, humid too, so pretty soon sweat starts to pearl and pool. In clavicles, in dips and bend of muscle, skin sticking to skin with salt and sighs, almost smothering with how Steve drapes over her. He moves good, smooth and strong like he knows what he’s doing, though it eventually devolves into a deep grind more than anything else, both of them chasing down pleasure. He smells like that clove gum he was chewing, the menthol too, and like he spent the day out sweltering in the  midsummer heat. She can’t help but dip her nose down into the center of his sternum, breathing him in as her nails dig and slip against his shoulder blades. Though soon he’s coaxing her, lemme see, honey, there you are, pretty eyes. 

Embarrassing really, that’s what snaps and snarls her into and over the edge. His eyes, blown out black, steady and certain on her. She comes so hard that she starts to shiver in the heat.

…

“Mmf.” It isn’t enough to rouse him, still slumped on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow. But it does feel good, light scratches across his shoulder blades, then trailing up the nape of his neck and into his hair. He sighs, content in his tangle of sheets.

“I know you’re awake.” He can’t help it, smile spreading, one eye squinting open to find Ruth looking right at him, kneeling alongside the bed.

“Why’re you dressed?” 

“I need to go home before my shift. I smell like a swamp.” 

“Sorry, AC is busted.”

“Yeah, I guessed as much.” He squints sitting up, washed down in the early morning light, already missing the feel of her hand tangled in his hair.

“Can I get your number?” For once, he’d like to do this again. Ruth smiles, settling into her hip as she looks down at him.

“You got a pen?” He does, tucked into a notebook that he keeps in the bottom drawer of his nightstand, not even worried about how uncool he looks fumbling for it and a scrap of paper to give to her. Purple nail polish, he notes, so dark the color is only a suggestion. He watches the flicker of it as she passes back the pen and paper to him.

“Thanks for a nice night, pretty boy.” Still sleep-shaken, but with it enough for her words to send a flush of heat up his neck.

“Yeah, Ruth, I had a good time too. So I’ll call you?” Already halfway out his bedroom door, she still smiles over her shoulder.

“Uh-huh, you do that.” 

It’s early enough that he can linger in the scent of her in his sheets, pressing his face hard into the mattress before finally willing himself to get up. By the time he shuffles out into the living room with one and a half boots on, Eddie is back and crunching through a burnt piece of toast in front of the microwave. 

“Hey, who was that spooky-looking chick that slinked– slunk? Whatever, left earlier this morning?” 

“Her name is Ruth.” All that he offers up, pointedly focusing on pouring himself a cup of coffee. Eddie scoffs, crumbs scattering.

“Okay, and? Flavor of the week, or what?” 

“Mmm.”

“No, you’re telling me Morticia is gonna turn an honest man out of you?” Steve’s turn to scoff this time, choosing to take a long pull of coffee rather than indulging Eddie with a real answer. 

“You get her number?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna call her?”

“Jesus, Ed, yes, lay off.”

“Oh, now I know you really like this one. You’re only bitchy about the ones you really like.” 

“Fuck off. How’s Herb, or whatever his name is.”

“Don’t be so gauche, Steven, and for the record, his name is Leif.”

“Right.”

“Anyways, Harrington Doctrine, yeah?”

“Yeah, man, exactly.” 

Now normally, according to the Harrington Doctrine, Steve should wait a full forty-eight hours, minimum, before even thinking about calling her. He does not follow the Harrington Doctrine. In fact, he barely makes it through the rest of the day without picking up a phone. When he gets home from his shift at the deli, however, he paces himself. Takes a shower first, checks the answering machine, willing away a little more time, anything to temper his apparent want. But when he does finally dial up the number on the scrap of paper he kept tucked in his notebook, he is sorely disappointed by the answer he gets on the other end.

“Brown Bag deli, how may I help you?” First, shock, reasoning to himself that he must have punched it in wrong. He tries again, careful in each button pressed.

“Brown Bag deli, how may I help–” He slams the phone back into its receiver this time, just as Eddie walks through the front door, home from his shift at the tattoo shop where he apprentices.

“Damn, tell that phone how you really feel.” 

“She gave me a fake number.”

“What? Who?”

“Mort– Ruth. I can’t believe this, she seriously gave me a fake number.” With all the tact that he usually has, Eddie plucks the scrap of paper from Steve’s hand, a grumbled lemme see as he dials the number. At first, a lift off of hope in his chest when Eddie stays on the line, brow furrowed.

“Hi, yeah, do you guys still do that portobello melt thing? Can I get that without tomatoes? Yeah, to– hey.” Steve only half pays attention to Eddie’s protest when he takes the phone and clicks it back in the receiver, something heavy settling sick in his stomach.

“She really gave me a fake number. What the fuck?” 

“Sorry, man, I guess no Addam’s Family Values for you.” 

…

He doesn’t usually get like this. Lord knows, Steve has taken his fair share of rejection. So why this one is stinging harder, lingering longer, especially when he barely knew the girl, is beyond him. 

Maybe the boldness of her rejection. A brazen, brash no. The humiliation of unassuming hope, small flames are so quick to be smothered. Or maybe the way he feels like a fool, plain and simple, for thinking there was something more happening when there so apparently wasn’t. Fun, he tells himself. She had been in it for fun. And she got her fun, and got out. And is that not one of his favorite moves in the book? Plenty of fun of his own, after all. 

But what is maybe the worst part, he can’t stop thinking about it, about her. Nearly filled up the rest of his notebook with what he can remember, nearly a whole month’s worth of remembering now. Piecemeal, by this point, the line of her nose, the curve of her brow, half a smile. What he can always recall clearly, the patterned print of flowers that was on her skirt. He scribbles it everywhere, in the margins of old receipts, in sharpie on parchment paper, slow days at the deli getting passed somewhere hazy in his mind. 

He has a headache by the time he gets back to his apartment most afternoons, opting for a few advil and closed blinds over any of the phone numbers that continue to get tucked into his hands.

“How much longer are you gonna do this?”

“Mmm.”

“Steve.”

“What?” He doesn’t have to  look to know exactly how Eddie is standing right now. In the doorway to his bedroom with his arms crossed and his hip cocked to the side, his version of concern.

“It’s been a fucking month, man. Greener pastures, fish in the sea, et cetera et cetera. You haven’t even gone to any shows since the double-M, for Christ’s sake.”

“Double-M?”

“Morticia meltdown.” Steve sighs, more interested in another swatch of flowers that he’s filling a blank page in his notebook with. Mercy, before Eddie can continue to needle him, the phone rings. He only catches scraps of what is said, but his ears prick when he hears Eddie let out a quiet oh.

“Steven, my liege, my lad, it’s  for you!” Great, probably Art calling to find out where the hell he’s been. Still, he gets up, only paying an ounce of attention to Eddie’s shit-eating grin when he takes the phone from him.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Steve?” Still only half-way paying attention, snapping his fingers in Eddie’s direction when he starts rifling through a box of cereal that Steve bought, looking for the dinky plastic toy inside, no doubt. 

“Uh, yeah, who is this?” He snaps his fingers again when Eddie keeps digging through the cereal box, mouthing the words stop it when his roommate still persists in his hunt. Steve’s going to have to buy new cereal. 

“It’s— it’s Ruth? Um, from the Newport, remember?” It’s a strange feeling, first his stomach sinking, a tight fist in his throat too, and most embarrassingly of all, that flip in his chest, that kick of hope, even now, stupid.

“Oh, oh, yeah, I remember. How did– how’d you get this number?” 

“I asked Art for it, figured he’d have your info. Listen, Steve, I need to apologize for what I did. That was just– fucking childish of me, and I hope you know that it had way more to do with my own fucked-upness than it did with anything about you.” 

“Yeah, it’s okay, you know, but it was pretty fucked up.” Stupid, how that hope floats to the top of his throat, because maybe apology means trying again. Maybe he’d like to try again. 

“There’s something else I have to tell you.” 

“Okay?” She sighs, a crackled sound over the line that makes his brow pinch.

“Look, there’s no nice way to say this, so I’m just gonna spit it out.” At this point, Eddie has crept closer, hand still buried in the cereal box, eyes wide and rapt at what is probably a stricken expression on Steve’s face.

“I’m pregnant, Steve.” What does hope turn into? A dizzying feeling, dumb and dull and done. His ears ring with it.

“I– you’re– you– what?” 

“I’m pregnant. And before you do that guy thing of asking if it’s yours, I’m pretty damn sure that it is.” Somewhere in the slow unraveling of this, he has pressed one palm to the wall, whole body slumping toward it, head dropped between his shoulder blades to try to make as much of everything else quiet so he can focus on this.

“Okay, um, okay. Do you wanna– you know– because it’s your body and if you wanna— you should–”

“I’ve decided I’m keeping it.” The way his heart seizes, stops for a beat, and then trips back over itself into rhythm scares him, palm finding his chest like he could rub that feeling out and away. 

“Right, that’s– yeah. Do you, like, need help, or–”

“No, I don’t need your help. I just– it seemed like the right thing to do to tell you, so that’s what I’m doing. But, yeah, I don’t, like, expect anything from you.” Steve scrunches his eyes shut, hard, trying to tamp down the heat starting to rise behind them, a foreign feeling, a falling feeling.

“Yeah, okay, thank you for telling me, Ruth.” Because what else could he say? It’s like he hears the words coming out of his mouth from somewhere just over his shoulder. And there’s more that he’d like to say, the right things to say, but Ruth is already beating him to it.

“So, yeah, I guess that’s all. Take care of yourself, Steve.” Already hanging up, and that sounds permanent. That sounds like no intention of ever seeing him again. The phone hangs by its chord, swinging limp a few inches above the ground.

“Steve, what the fuck was that?” One long exhale for him, shitshitshitshit. Eddie sets down the cereal box and takes him by the shoulders, squared off and trying to catch his vacant, glazed stare.

“I– we– she–”

“Did you use protection?” He blinks, nods, relieved that Eddie has already gotten explanation enough from eavesdropping on the call.

“Yeah, fuck, yes. I took a condom from your stash, it was a brand new box.” Something strange passes over Eddie’s expression, blanching and jaw slackening. 

“Steve, which box of condoms did you open?”

“What do you mean which box? The one in your closet, on the top shelf.” Eddie’s hands drop from his shoulders, brows shot straight up his forehead.

“Oh jesus christ.”

“Jesus christ? What– Ed, what the fuck does that mean?” Steve gets no reply, Eddie already scuttling into his room, followed by the distant sound of rummaging, and then a low curse. 

“So here’s the thing, Stevie, these condoms–” Eddie comes back out of his room brandishing said box of condoms, the box that Steve had opened that night with Ruth. He has a smile that slants sheepish on his face, and Steve is already starting to feel sick.

“Yeah, these condoms are from eighty-nine.” 

“As in– as in nineteen-eighty-nine?” 

“That would be correct, yes.” Eddie has already taken a few tentative steps backward, putting the kitchen counter between him and Steve. But Steve is too struck dumb to even consider anything like vengeance on his roommate, dragging both his hands through his hair and tugging hard until it hurts.

“Who– why– what the fuck are you doing with five-year-old condoms?”

“Ha, well, you see, I figured after a decade or two maybe they’d be worth something, you know? Like a collector’s item.” Wordless, Steve shuffles over to Eddie and takes the box of condoms from his hands, something like a laugh that sounds so sharp Eddie winces at the sound.

“Ed, a signed poster is a collector’s item. This is a box of condoms– this is– this is junk.” 

“Well it’s junk now, Steven, since someone opened it.”

“Oh no, uh-uh, you don’t get to be pissy about this, not when there’s literally a girl who’s pregnant because you’re such a fucking hoarder.” 

“Uh, excuse me, I’m not the one who didn’t check the expiration date when they went fumbling around for a condom.”

“I didn’t think I needed to worry about five-year-old condoms, fuck!” The volume of his voice surprises even him, silence falling heavy and hard in the echo of it. Steve rests his hands on the counter, letting his shoulders shrug up to his ears, slumping down into his bones. Eddie rests a cautious hand on his arm.

“What’re you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, Ed. I really don’t know.”

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington angst #steve harrington au

[miscfandomwrites]

Mama: Chapter Five

A/N: Hey Y’all! Been awhile since I’ve uploaded. Let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist for this series or any that I write. My inbox and messages are always open for requests and criticism, as well as questions. Long author’s note at the bottom for a few explanations about the guns and stuff I’ve written about in this chapter. This is more team building and reader getting used to things, I promise Natasha will definitely make more of an impact in the next chapter or two.  I am aware that the text in the collage is blurry.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mom! Avenger! Reader

Warnings: 

Words: 1.7k

Tagging:  @tyler-t0t

After breakfast, it was decided that Lillith would stay with Wanda  and make cookies while some of the others would show me my workspace. 

I didn’t even know that I’d have a workspace, let alone something as massive as what I was given. It turns out that Stark had several floors under the tower as well, and I was on the fourth floor below the ground. It was an entire floor, and it was massive. 

It was a huge parking garage pretty much, with ramps for vehicles and other sorts of transportation up to the surface. My truck, jeep, motorcycle, and car were already there, parked and waiting. 

Despite living a somewhat simple life, S.H.I.E.L.D paid me well and with the various odd jobs I’ve picked up over the years, I had quite a sum of money that I could do whatever I wished with. 

“There’s a range right over there, and the benches have the boxes on the. You’ll just need to arrange things how you like them, and then it’s more than fully workable.” Stark told me as I entered the main area of the workshop.

Lit up with several overhead lamps and taking up the majority of the floor, this was by far the best workspace I’d ever had. 

Several benches were scattered around, one backed to a wall between three metal gun cabinets and metal cases holding dozens of ammo cans. That was the gun area, and judging by the boxes around it they didn’t mount anything or store anything yet. I preferred to take care of all of the organizing for the weapons and such by myself because I had my systems for finding things, and as Clint liked to joke; I turned borderline Hulk if someone messed up my systems. 

I noticed mainly the divot along the back wall, like a large ramp running nearly from the center of the room to the back end of it, heading down. All of the walls were concrete, and there was no door there. 

“That’s the range. Four feet of concrete, not counting the steel targets you’ll be using, but it’s more than thick enough to stop the majority of bullets. I didn’t know what you wanted to do for the Archery stuff, so I didn’t mess with any of it.” Stark spoke again, by side. I nodded and continued looking around. 

A lounge area, with a sink and what I assumed was a bar, was sparsely decorated with the occasion box or sheet. Some couches and what looked like a futon were around it. I noticed a TV mounted on the wall, and a fridge. The main area had a bench with what looked like my archery things on it, but I was more excited to find out that the benches moved. They all were on a wheel system, which meant I could combine or place them anywhere I deemed necessary at the moment. 

I was so focused on looking around, already imagining where I’d place everything and how it would all fit together that I didn’t notice Sam, Steve, and James heading to the reloading bench. 

I walked over as they tried to open the metal gun cabinet, quietly discussing amongst themselves the password for it. 

“2641996012340 is the passcode. It’s thirteen digits, so it’s unlikely someone will enter the right code.” I said as I squeezed between Sam and Steve, shooing them away as I punched in the code. 

“Why the hell would you have a thirteen digit code for a gun safe?” James asked me, eyebrows raised. 

I shrugged, and instead of finishing punching in the code I just gave the locker and hard yank and the door came open. 

“The passcode section broke a long time ago. It taught me to keep a gun by my side at all times.”  I replied, opening the lower doors as well.

“What happened?” Steve asked.

“Someone broke into my old dwelling a few years ago when Lillith was still a baby. I kept all my guns locked up so she wouldn’t get hurt when she wandered, but I broke the door to the cabinet to grab a gun. That’s why it doesn’t work.” 

“A true mom.” Sam grinned at me as he grabbed one of the rifles in the case. 

I stepped away and allowed the boys to look at my guns, and started rummaging through the boxes on the reloading bench. 

“Where’s the ammunition?” Sam asked as he held my old revolver Colt 45 in his hands, the hammer already back and waiting for a magazine to be loaded. 

“In the ammo cans to my right. Find the Revolver Colt 45 label. There should be ready bullets in there..” I replied, not looking up from sorting through some of my notebooks. 

“Hey, Stark!” I called out over my shoulder, looking towards him. He quickly looked up from the wrench kit he was going through. 

“Yeah?” He yelled back.

“Are my AIs incorporated into the tower yet? I talked to Pepper about it a few weeks ago.” I said as I turned towards him, still holding my notebook. 

“Yeah, they should be running right now. You can check, though.” He told me, turning back to the kit. 

“WAR, are these notebooks recorded?” I asked out loud. 

A male mechanical voice responded, telling me that they were, and asking if I wanted to know anything specific from them.

I politely dismissed it, tossing my notebook back on the counter. 

Bruce glanced at me as I walked past him, heading for what I’d make into my archery bench. 

“You created AIs?” he asked me, a look of surprise on his face. 

I nodded, moving some boxes off the table. 

“What does WAR stand for? I hope it’s a good abbreviation.” Stark said as he walked towards me, holding the notebook I’d discarded on the reloading bench only moments before. 

“WAR stands for Weapons Ammunition Recorder. It records all information I need for my weapons, and formulates things for me if I need them. I’m working on another right now as well. It’s still in the starting steps, so it doesn’t have a name beyond ‘Digital Assistant’ right now.” I replied, unpacking a box holding my bow press. 

“What do these stand for?” Another voice rang out. Natasha was looking over Stark's shoulder, and as soon as he noticed her he jumped, almost dropping the notebook. 

I grinned, leaning over the notebook, looking at what page they were on. 

“Looks like designs for my Creedmoor. One badass gun, I’ll give you that.” I replied, looking up at Natasha. 

“Creedmoor?” Stark questioned. 

“It’s more the name of the bullet it takes. I built most of these guns by hand, and that was the most expensive, fun, and stressful one I’ve ever done.” I replied. 

“How much?” Natasha said as she looked up from the notebook at me. I fought off the blush rising on my cheeks from the intense stare she was giving me. 

“Almost ten thousand dollars. It’s worth it, though.” I replied. 

I walked over to the gun side of the room (I really will need to have a decent name for this side of the floor) and pulled a large plastic gun case away from the wall. The boys looked over in interest, following me to one of the workbenches where I laid it upon. 

I cracked open the several snaps, before pulling open the lid. 

“Holy shit.” Sam whispered. 

I nodded, and grinned as I pulled the gun up from it’s designated spot in the case. A massive sniper rifle, my creedmoor weighed nearly twenty pounds. 

I rested the butt of it upon the table, and mounted the bipod on the front of it. I took it off the table, shouldering it and checked to make sure the gun was clear. 

“Mom!” A yell came from behind Natasha. She turned, and moved aside so Lillith could run up to me. 

She stopped right in front of me, her mouth open. 

“You got the creedmoor!” She exclaimed, almost jumping up and down with excitement. I laughed at her antics, and squatted down, still holding the gun.

“Wanna hold it?” I asked her.

She grinned and nodded with such force her hair whipped up and down. 

“What are the three rules about guns?” I questioned, sliding the bolt back until it locked in place.

She closed her eyes, grasping her hands into fists at her sides. 

“Be aware of your target and beyond….”

“That’s one.” 

“Never point the muzzle anywhere you’re not going to shoot….”

“One more.”

She scrunched her eyebrows together, a look I called the ‘Focus headache’ because whenever she did it, it usually ended up with her hurting her head. 

“Something about the trigger?” She questioned, opening her eyes. 

I nodded, and spoke slowly

“Never put your finger on the trigger-” I started

“Unless you’re ready to shoot.” she finished, grinning. 

I lifted the gun from my grip, holding it out to her. 

“Careful it’s heavy.” I warned, but she took it and cradled it against her chest. It was almost as tall as her, even holding it diagonally the barrel was above her head and the butt of the gun was below her knees.

 Her mouth was agape in awe as she ran her hands over the gun. She tilted it down, checking down the barrel and the scope. 

“I didn’t know there were rules to guns.” James told me, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s more common sense than anything. She taught the same to my kids and Laura.” Clint replied, taking photos of Lillith. 

I nodded, and noticed Lillith was struggling a bit with the gun. 

I gently took it from her, and set it back on the table. 

Wanda rounded the corner in a sprint, stopping once she found Lillith. I noticed she was covered in what looked like...flour?

She bent over, gasping for breath. In between her gasps, she breathed out that she found Lillith. 

I looked over to Lillith, who shrugged and tried to give me her best innocent face. 

“What? I wanted to make cookies!” Lillith exclaimed with a huff, crossing her arms.

~~

A/N: So I was born and raised around guns, and I kinda implemented that into this series. I’m also doing archery right now. My dad reloads bullets (has been since before I was born) and I’ve helped him with it since I could remember. I work on guns with him-mostly ARs-and our bows. I’ve reloaded bullets and made my own arrows, and still do. All of the information is correct, at least in the way my dad raised me. The Creedmoor that is mentioned is a rifle that my dad made a couple years ago (real gun is worth about 8k) and it one fucking gun. It’s hyper-accurate, and there’s not much recoil on it. It’s also heavy, weighing in at about 17 pounds. I’ve edited some information because the Creedmoor in this series is a little different. My dad made his with some expensive parts, but not necessarily the parts he would have had if he had more money. I’ve shot it dozens of times, and I still love it. I’m cutting this chapter short because it’s getting long, and I figured I’d end with showing a little bit more of Lillith’s personality. I really expect this series to be over 20 chapters, just so y’all know. 

Any questions or comments? Send an ask!

#miscfandomwrites #marvel x reader #marvel #mama #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #avengers x reader #avengers x avengers! reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov

[stillxnunpxidintern]

Steddie x Reader Imagine - Sleeping/Laying positions 

Normally it’s you that sleeps in the middle playing little spoon for one of the, while the other one uses your chest most like a pillow, listening to your heart while you cradle their head, running fingers through their hair. 

They prefer sleeping on either side of you, so that they can protect you. You're pretty sure monsters aren’t gonna be attacking you while you all sleep, they much prefer prey running and screaming.

When one of you get sick, then that person get put in the middle(unless it’s the flu, then you sleep separately from the sick one), so that the other two can take care them, and getting out of the bed to get medicine, water or food if they need. 

So if Eddie is the sick one, then normally you sit with your back again the headboard, his head in your lap as you read to him, normally Lord of the rings or The Hobbit, while Steve is bring the food and water, for the three of you.

If Steve the sick one, then you're the one on food and water duty, while Eddie is the one entertaining/looking after Steve, normally it just mean listening to music or watching a movie/something on the tv.

If any of the you have a nightmare(flashbacks) while sleeping, that is automatic middle positions so that the two other can wrap their arms around the middle person, while comforting and speaking soft sweet words.

There are times when it just you and Steve in bed, cause Eddie having a creative night, needing to write it down, whether its for D&D, music or something else. When he does finally joins you both, he will just lay across both your and Steve’s legs, at the bottom of the bed, cause he can.

However when Steve comes to bed late, then he does his bed to be quiet, while getting changed and normally slips in behind Eddie, cause he’s the one less likely to wake up.

You however, if you comes to bed late, will wiggle yourself into the middle, with low protest from Steve who had been sleeping, so you just kiss his cheek before doing same with Eddie, just encase he had woken up.

You all sleep the best when all three of you are in the bed. 

#Steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie x Reader #Steve Harrington x Reader #Eddie Munson x Reader #Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Stranger Thing Imagine

[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Monster and the Superhero

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 2,964 Warnings: fluff, angst, olivia being protective, Smut: no | yes; 18+ MINORS DNI: A/N: Hi, friends! We getting more Eddie in this chapter!! Also, see gif below for fic title inspiration <3 If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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Getting a decent night’s sleep is starting to be hard to come by since we figured out another D&D monster is an actual monster. I knew about Vecna from reading Dustin’s D&D manual when he first got it and refreshed myself when he joined Hellfire.

We decided to get Eddie some actual food… or what we thought was actual food from the grocery store, taking it over to Reefer Rick’s, where we told Eddie to stay hidden.

Steve parked the car around where he did last night, all five of us piling out and walking to the boathouse, walking in once we made it. Only this time, Eddie was ready with his sharp glass bottle, pointing it at us at our intrusion.

Dustin and I held up the plastic bags, smiling while saying, “Delivery service.”

Eddie sighed before I shook my bags, setting them down on a table and pulling every item out of the bag. I felt Eddie behind me after a moment before the box of Honeycombs and Yoo-Hoo was removed from my vision.

He sat down in the boat with the box, opening it and tearing the bag open, dipping his hand inside to start munching on the sugary cereal while Robin and Max stood or sat to his left, Dustin, myself and Steve standing or sitting to his right.

“So we got, uhh, some good news and some bad news,” Dustin said. “How do you prefer it?”

With a mouth full of cereal, Eddie said, “Bad news first, always,” before taking a swig of his glorified chocolate milk.

“Alright,” I breathed. “Bad news; Dustin tapped in the Hawkins PD dispatch with his Cerebro and, and they’re definitely looking for you, and they’re pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.”

“Like, 100% kind of convinced,” Max added.

“And the good news, oldest Henderson?” Eddied asked, looking from Max to me.

Smiling, I said, “Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But if we found out about you, it’s a matter of time before others do, too, and once word gets out, everyone and their pea-brained mother is gonna be hunting for you.”

“Hunt the freak, right?” Eddie enunciated. 

Scrunching my lips, I closed my eyes and nodded. “Precisely.”

“Shit.”

“So, before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence,” Dustin said.

“That’s all, Dustin?” Eddie and I asked. “That’s all?”

“Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it,” he said, pretty sure of himself.

“Little brother, ‘tis not as simple as you think,” I said. “When has it ever been that simple?” I rolled my eyes at his delusions, feeling two hands on my shoulders, pulling me back into a chest; Steve’s chest.

“Listen, Eddie,” Robin said. “I know everything Dustin’s saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this kinda thing before.”

“Well, she’s been through it once,” I said. “Max twice, Dustin, Steve and I three times. Robin’s was more human-flesh-based, while ours was more smoke-related.”

“Bottom line is, collectively, I really feel we got this.”

Wrapping his arms around my middle and resting his chin on my shoulder, Steve said, “Yeah, see, we usually rely on this girl who has super powers. But, uhh, those went bye-bye, so…”

“So, we’re technically more in the–”

“Kinda.”

“Brainstorming phase?” I asked.

“Brainstorming,” Steve repeated, snapping his fingers. “Good one, babe.”

“There-there-there’s nothing to worry about,” Dustin said. 

Steve scoffed behind me, his head moving just a little in curt nod.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath just as I heard sirens, and Steve whispered, “Shit.” 

Moving towards the boat, I said, “Eddie, tarp.”

He looked at me, questions floating in his eyes.

“Get back under the tarp.”

“You owe me, Henderson,” he said, my response being “I know,” before Eddie grabbed the side and laid down with the cereal box in his arm, moving the tarp over himself.

The rest of us moved to the windows, watching as police cars and ambulances drove by. As a group, we decided to be nosy as fuck and follow them to see where they were going. Once we found the area, we parked behind a truck, the five of us getting out.

Nancy was standing in the middle of the road, talking to Powell, who took over for Hopper since he… well, since he died. She looked over at us, bringing her fingers up for a small wave.

I looked over at Steve, seeing him wave back at her. I know he doesn’t love her anymore, but there’s always going to be that part of me that thinks he does and always will. Looking back at her, tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them and looked down. Sitting back inside the car, I sniffled lightly, brushing the tear that had regrettably fallen onto my cheek.

When everyone got back in the car, all I could do was look out the window at the trees passing by. What made my anxiety worse… was that Steve didn’t rest his hand on my thigh like he always did. Taking off my right shoe, I sighed, bringing my foot to rest on the seat, lacing my fingers together and resting them at the junction where my foot and calf meet.

Once we made it to the trailer park, Robin, Max and my brother got out of the car, meeting Nancy at the picnic table while Steve and I stayed behind.

He sighed, “I know what you’re thinking, and no.”

I looked down and nodded. “I know. It’s just my stupid brain. You know how it gets.” I crossed my arms, sinking down into the seat a little more. “It just… I saw the way you looked at her.”

“With concern?” he asked. It wasn’t in anger or irritation. His voice was calm and controlled. There were a few times when I had this concern after we got together, and he was always reassuring. Kind of like he was being right now.

Once the reasonable side of my brain caught up and took over my unreasonable side, I sighed and rested my head on my knee, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Grabbing my hand to lace our fingers, he said, “Her and I are friends. Nothing more. You’re the girl for me.”

I looked at our hands, watching as he brought them up to kiss the back of my own. Smiling, I connected our eyes, seeing those hazel orbs I loved so much. “I love you. And I’m sorry.”

“I love you, too. Let’s go.”

We both got out of the car after I put my shoe back on and retied it. He met me at the front of the car and held his hand out once he saw me round the vehicle, our fingers lacing together as we made our way to the picnic table. When we sat down, we all explained to Nancy what’s been going on.

“So, you’re saying that this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy, it’s from the Upside Down?” Nancy asked.

“If the shoe fits,” I sighed, leaning back against Steve, who wrapped his arms around my middle. 

“Our working theory is that he attacks with a spell or a curse,” Dustin said. “Now, whether or not he’s doing the bidding of the Mind Flayer or just loves killing teens, we don’t know.”

“All we know is this is something different,” Max said. “Something new.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” Nancy said.

“It’s just a theory,” Dustin said. 

“It’s not supposed to make sense,” I added.

“No, Liv,” Nancy said. “Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense. I mean, why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place,” Dustin said. “They were both at the game.”

“And near the trailer park,” Max said.

“We’re in the trailer park,” Steve said, holding me a little tighter. “Uh, should we maybe not be here?”

As we all looked around, Nancy said, “There is something about this place. Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

“Acting weird as in…?” Robin asked.

“Scared, on edge, upset.”

“Max said Chrissy was upset, too,” Dustin said.

“Yeah, but not here,” Max said. “She was crying in the bathroom at school.”

“Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right?” Robin asked.

“Affirmative,” I said.

“So, maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecman–”

“Vecna,” Dustin corrected.

Carrying on like nothing happened, Steve said, “I don’t know about you guys, but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.”

“Maybe they did,” Max said. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you… you go to the police. They’d never believe you.”

“Except Hopper,” I said. “Who’s inconveniently dead.”

“But you might to your–”

“Your shrink,” Robin said.

 Max nodded her head and we all formed a plan on what to do. Once the plan was made, we all got up from the table to walk back towards our vehicles. Nancy started walking back towards her car before Steve’s voice stopped her.

“Whoa, whoa, Nance,” he said. “Nance!” He stepped up to her as she turned around, asking, “Where you going?”

“Oh, there’s something I wanna check on first,” she replied. 

“Something you maybe wanna share with the rest of us?” Dustin and I asked. “I don’t wanna waste your time. It’s a real shot in the dark.”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve said. “Are you out of your mind? Flying solo with this Vecna creep on the loose? No, it’s too dangerous. You need… you need someone to…” He turned walking up to me, handing me his keys. “Here. I’m gonna stick with Nance, alright? Take the car, check out the shrink. Go back to your house, and I’ll have Nance drop me off there.”

“Why? Why can’t Robin go with her?” I asked, gesturing to our high school friend.

“Yeah, why can’t I go?” Robin asked.

“Liv, if you don’t want to drive, I can,” Max said.

“No,” Steve and I said, looking over at Max.

“No. Never again,” Steve added. “Please. Anybody but you.”

“Come on,” Dustin said.

“No.”

“Okay, this is stupid,” Robin said, grabbing a radio from Dustin’s bag. “Like Liv said, I’ll go with Nancy because us ladies need to stick together. Steve, you stay with your girlfriend.” When she made it to Nancy’s side, she turned back around to face us, saying, “Unless you think we need you to protect us.”

Robin turned on her heel and started walking towards Nancy’s car, the eldest Wheeler taking a moment, looking at my Stevie. I rolled my eyes and got in the car, not meaning to slam the door shut as Steve shouted at them to be careful.

“You just gonna stand there and gawk at your ex-girlfriend, or sit next to my sister and gawk at her?” Dustin said.

“Shut up,” Steve said. “I love your sister. She knows that.” “Why don’t we go?”

“Shut up and get in the car.”

I heard the back door open behind me, so I looked to see who it was before saying, “Dusty, wipe your feet.”

“On the outside, not the inside,” Steve groaned, getting into the car. “Always the babysitter. Always the goddamn babysitter.” He started the car, putting it in drive and riding past Eddie’s trailer that was marked off by police tape.

~~~

Max gave us directions to Ms. Kelley’s house, Steve parking at the end of her driveway on the other side of the street. 

“Okay, she’s in,” Steve said, arm resting on the door, the window rolled down. 

“I’m missing collarbones,” Dustin said. “Not eyes.” A few seconds later, he said, “So… are we gonna talk about… it?” Turning to face him in the backseat, I furrowed my brows. “What?”

Pointing in between Steve and I, Dustin said, “You two.”

“Again, I ask… what?”

“The tension between you two. I can feel it from here.”

“Feel what?” Steve asked.

“The sexual electricity?”

“Oh, my god, Dustin!” I exclaimed.

“Your sexual tension was pretty public,” he said. “There’s witnesses. Have you two even–”

Turning back to face the front with my hands up, I said, “I am not having this conversation with you.”

“Are you implying that we haven’t had se–” Steve said.

“Steve!” I interrupted. “We’re not having this conversation with him right now!”

“What about when he was gonna go with Nance instead of staying with you, his girlfriend, my dearest sister?” Dustin said.

“I was trying to protect a friend,” Steve said. “A friend, Hendersons. Okay?”

Turning my head to look at Steve, I gave him a what the fuck look. “Hendersons? As in, plural? Don’t bring me into this, I didn’t say anything.”

“Okay,” Dustin said, amused.

“I don’t wanna find her in the morning with her eyes sucked out of the front of her skull by this Vecna creep,” Steve said.

“Steve, baby, I love that you’re wanting to protect a friend and being all defensive, but now isn’t the time to do that, especially when your anxious girlfriend here is freaking out about you and Nancy, okay?” I said.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with my sister?” Dustin asked.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Steve said. “I love your sister very much, and I especially don’t want anything to happen to her. I’d die if anything happened to her.”

I smiled at that, feeling all the love from him just from those two sentences.

“You’re blushing,” Dustin smiled.

“Drop it, or I’ll punch you so hard in your face your teeth will fall back out.”

“Whoa,” Dustin and I said. “Too far.”

“Not cool. Sorry.”

“Not cool, babe,” I said.

“It’s okay,” Dustin added.

Steve brought his fist up, Dustin hitting Steve’s with his own before Steve held his hand out, looking at me. I laced our fingers before he brought the back of my hand to his mouth, placing a kiss near my ring finger.

I heard the door open, Steve’s attention right on Max as she made her way back to the car, Steve repeating, “Here she comes.”

Max got in the backseat with Dustin, my brother asking, “What’d she say?” “Nothing, just drive,” Max said. “Steve, drive!”

“Okay,” he said, letting go of my hand to start the car and drive off. 

Max told us to drive to the high school so that she could snoop through Ms. Kelley’s files for hers and Chrissy’s. Dustin’s walkie went off, a familiar voice coming through.

“Dustin? Olivia? It’s Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin.”

Dustin hit the button on his walkie, speaking into it, “Lucas? Where the hell have you been?”

“Just listen,” Lucas said. “Are you guys looking for Eddie?”

“Yeah, and we found him, no thanks to you.”

“You found him?”

“He’s at a boathouse on Coal Mill Road. Don’t worry, he’s safe.”

“You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?”

“That’s bullshit. Eddie tried to save Chrissy.” “Then why do all the cops say he did it?”

Max took the walkie from Dustin, pressing the button and saying, “Lucas, you’re so behind, it’s ridiculous, okay? Just meet us at the school. We’ll explain later.”

“I… I can’t.”

Taking the walkie from Max, it was my turn to speak into the mouthpiece. “Come again, Sinclair?”

“I think some real bad shit’s about to go down, Liv.”

“Spill it.”

Static sounded from the walkie’s speaker for a moment before I hit my palm against it a couple times before saying into the mouthpiece, “Lucas? Lucas! Shit.”

~~~

It was dark by the time we made it to the school, Max using the keys she stole from Ms. Kelley’s house. Walking down the hallway, Dustin’s walkie went off again, this time Robin’s voice coming through, saying, “Hendersons, do you copy?”

“Yeah, we copy,” Dustin and I said in unison.

“So, Nancy’s a genius. Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bullseye.”

“Okay, that’s, uh, totally bonkers,” Dustin said.

I took the walkie from him, saying, “But we really can’t talk right now.”

“Wait, what are you doing, female Henderson?”

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve highly confidential and extremely personal files.” This felt like Sophomore year all over again when I broke into stores. Looking up at Steve, I said, “If I get caught this time, I’m going to jail.”

“We won’t,” he said, shining his flashlight around, looking for any type of security.

“Can you repeat that?”

“Just get your ass over to the high school, Buckley. Stat. We’ll explain everything… if I don’t get arrested again and start living in a cell.”

We found Max at Ms. Kelley’s office as she was just opening the door to walk inside. 

“It’s like a mini-Watergate or something,” Dustin said.  “Hawkinsgate!”

“Wait a sec,” Steve said. “Didn’t those guys get caught?”

“Holy shit,” Max said from the opened filing cabinet.

“You found it?” Steve asked, walking over to her.

“Yeah, and not just Chrissy’s file,” she said, taking a file out of the cabinet. “Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley, too.”

We all looked at each other, trying to find out what it meant with our eyes until I spoke up. “Well, I’d compare the files, see if the three of you had any symptoms in common.”

We did just that, bringing out her file, Chrissy’s file and Fred’s file. Max sat at the desk, looking at Chrissy’s, seeing the handwritten symptoms on a white sheet of paper. When she asked to see Fred’s file, I handed it to her, moving to stand beside her with my body facing Steve, who was leaning against the desk.

Max was looking as if she were lost in a trance of some sort, so I put my hand on her shoulder, asking, “Max, are you okay? Max? Max, honey, what is it? Max. Max!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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A/N 2:  hi, friends! pls be kind and reblog! it really helps us content creators out <3

Additional Note:

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~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on May 6, 2024 *Happy half Birthday to this series!!*

#steve harrington x olivia henderson #steve x olivia #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington #olivia henderson (oc) #stevia #always the babysitter #atb #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #will byers #jonathan byers #joyce byers #chief jim hopper #eleven hopper #eddie munson #max mayfield #robin buckley #venca/henry/001 #henry creel #vecna #season four episode three

[ashwhowrites]

Request: Fluster Prompt #3, with A=you, B=Eddie, with Steve, Robin and/or Nancy playing along. This sounds like so much fun for everyone involved... except Eddie. ;D

•A’s friends C and D notice that A is purposely flustering B, so they turn in into a drinking game. Every time B blushes, stutters, or chokes on their drink, they take a drink.

I just know I'm going to have a blast writing this. All fun for the reader and her friends but it's all just games for Eddie 😭

This is a short blurb

Steve decided to throw a huge party for his birthday—well, not huge, just for the group. But everyone seemed to be having a good time. Well, mostly everyone.

Y/N got a tad bored as Eddie had been talking to Dustin for hours. She did not want to be clingy, but she missed her boyfriend. With him at school and her always working, there isn't much alone time. And now they are spending the weekend with Steve. She loved Steve, but why did he have to have a party?

When she got bored, it was never good news for Eddie. which is what Robin, Steve, and Nancy have noticed.

The three of them watched as Y/N sat up straighter and sent a glare in Dustin's direction. Shrinking under her gaze, he swiftly excused himself. They watched as a smile lit up her face, and she placed herself in Eddie's lap. Eddie's cheeks flush right away, and his eyes look up at her instantly. She was whispering in his ear; they couldn't hear what was being said, but they have their theories based on how Eddie's eyes went huge and he swallowed hard.

"I got a game for Steve's lousy party," Robin started, and Steve glared, "Let's take a drink every single time she flusters Eddie, which can be a blush, stuttering, or choke." Steve and Nancy agreed with a laugh.

The three decided to stand closer to the couple to get a front row view.

"Hey guys, come sit." Y/N smirked as she patted the seats near her. Driving herself deeper into Eddie's lap. A small moan was heard in everyone's ears, but no one said a thing. Just a quick, small drink between the three.

The group quickly fell into conversation; the couple, though, were too into each other. Eddie was literally eating Y/N's face off. Steve gagged loudly near Eddie's ear. Eddie pulled away with a shove to Steve's shoulder.

"So Eddie, how is the band going?" Nancy asked as she held her half-full solo cup.

"Oh, it is going really well, plus it gets this one very horny, nothing beats hot groupie sex." He teased as his arm swung over Y/N's shoulder. He wanted to play, huh?

"And girls, when they say guitar players know what to do with their fingers, they are telling the truth." She added as she grabbed Eddie's hand and kissed his fingertips. Eddie began to cough as he choked on his own spit.

She smirked as she threw her own arm over his shoulder. "Oh yes, nothing makes me want to get on my knees more than his cropped tops on stage." She smirked as Eddie cheekily blushed and offered a small smile to the floor.

Nancy, Steve, and Robin gave each other a quick glance, and another sip followed.

Another sip.

Steve was a tad tipsy, so his next words caused everyone to laugh: "Let's talk about our kinks." "I want to know some freaky stuff about everyone."

Everyone took turns spilling their kinks; many laughs were shared, and a few judgmental stares were thrown. The three were excited to see how Eddie was going to handle this new topic.

Eddie may be loud, but he did not want to air out his dirty laundry for everyone. "I'm just into the hair pulling, teasing, and handcuffs," he quickly said as he grabbed his drink to take a sip.

"Bullshit. Eddie loves to be tied up and fucked in his ass." She laughed as Eddie choked on his drink, coughing with watery eyes. The group laughed and took another sip.

"He's also a perv, but I love it," she said as she kissed his lips. He hummed at her familiar taste.

"Eddie, do you prefer her as a top or bottom?" Robin asked 

"um, I- I guess I like her on t-t-op" He stuttered out as Y/N began to trail her fingers through his air, tugging lightly.

The three took another sip.

"He so does, he turns into a big screamer," Y/N added as Eddie blushed yet again.

Another sip

Their cups were running low as the night progressed.

Another sip when Y/N began to rub Eddie's knee made him blush hard.

Another sip came when she reached over to slap Steve, her boobs smacking right in Eddie's face. He whined.

When she got up to go to the bathroom, her ass brushed up against Eddie's hard on, and he didn't hide the moan there.

The final sip and end of the cup occurred when she grabbed Eddie's hand and began to bring him upstairs.

"Hey, do not go in my bedroom!"

Tags- @bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson

@sage-the-z0mbie @michaelfuckinglangdon

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson request #eddie munson x female reader

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

She’s Sweet on Him

Kinktober 2022 - Day 13

Pairing: Sub!Thor Odinson x Dom!Fem!Reader

Kink: Choking

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Thor might be a god but he worships you like a goddess and you reward him with what he wants. 

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, dom/sub dynamics, slight oral sex (m! receiving), handcuffs, bondage, choking, mistress kink), needy!Thor, fluff, sweet!Reader

a/n: This is day 13 of 2022 Kinktober! I hope you enjoy this fic!

Banner by @vase-of-lilies​ 

You smiled as you watched Thor from across the room at the Avengers weekly breakfast Sunday, where all of the team came to the kitchen in their pajamas and took two hours to just themselves. You and Thor had been married for about two years and you two loved the Sunday breakfasts because it was nice to have a day to relax and not think about any upcoming missions and just enjoy each other and the team. You sipped on your coffee as you watched Thor talk with Tony and Steve and it made you smile, happy that the three of them were getting along and not at each other’s necks. You sighed softly as you took another sip and Natasha cleared her throat and you looked over. 

“You’re staring.” Natasha smirked as she sipped her cup of coffee and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“He’s my husband. I can stare all I want.” You smirked as you set down your mug to grab a donut hole.

“You got lucky. I wish I could find a god.” Natasha sighed as she laid back on the couch and you rolled your eyes again. 

“You have Steve, what’s your problem?” You asked her as you finished the donut hole, licking your fingers clean. 

“I know, he’s just a bit dominating in bed and I prefer to be the Dom but I don’t know how to bring it up. I don’t know if you get it, I’m sure you love Thor being the Dom in bed.” Natasha trailed off making you chuckle at her last sentence and she looked at you confused. “What?”

“You think Thor is the Dom in bed?” You asked with a look of disbelief on your face and she nodded, “He’s not at all. He loves when I’m in charge, fuck, he gets all needy and sweet on me when he wants something, it’s such a turn on.” You sighed happily as you remember all the nights he was needy for you.

Natasha smirked and bit her bottom lip, “That sounds like a dream. I wish I could get Steve like that.” She sighed as she set her mug down. 

“Just talk to him, Nat. You know how whipped he is with you.” You smiled as you looked over at her and grabbed your mug to sip on it. 

“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugged before she saw Thor walking into the living room. “Incoming.” She said before getting up and going over to Steve.

Thor smiled at you and sat next to you and kissed your lips softly, “Hello, my queen.” He whispered against your lips making you smile and climb into his lap. 

“Hello, my king.” You smiled and you wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. “Are you enjoying breakfast?” You asked as you gently pulled his bun out and you ran your fingers through his soft hair. 

“I am, me and the Captain were just speaking about maybe doing this more.” He said as he rubbed your hips as he nuzzled into your neck. 

“That sounds good, I would love to have more time with the team.” You smiled and he cuddled closer to you as his lips pressed soft kisses to your skin and he whined softly. You smirked slightly as you felt his bulge pressing into your cloth covered pussy and you grinded down on his bulge. He whined louder against your neck and your smirk widened, and his hands moved down to your ass and he squeezed it softly. 

“Please, love. I need you.” He whispered against your skin before he pulled back and his cheeks were flushed pink with need. You smiled as you nuzzled your nose against his and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Okay, you’re lucky I’m feeling sweet right now. I want you to carry me to our room and I’ll give you what you want.” You whispered and you were barely able to say the last word before he was on his feet and carrying you to your shared room. He had Friday open the door before closing it and locking it and he sat on the bed with you in his lap. 

He was frenzied and needy as his strong hands ripped off your top and he ducked down to latch onto your nipple. He suckled on the bud making it a peaked bud and he lapped at it and sucked it hard as his hips bucked up into your crotch, grinding against you like a dog in heat. It made you smirk at how needy you could make him with just a few orders and a few grinds. You gripped his hair before pulling him away from your chest. 

“Is that how good boys act? Tearing mistress’s clothes off and taking what you want?” You asked as you tugged on his hair and he let out a soft whine and shook his head. 

“Couldn’t help it, Mistress, just wanted you.” He whispered and you tutted as you shook your head and your other hand went down to wrap around his throat and squeezed softly. 

“No, excuses. You know what you did wrong and I want you to say it as a punishment.” You said as you squeezed his throat lightly. 

“I-I ripped Mistress’s clothes a-and sucked on her breasts as I u-used her p-pussy to grind against.” He squeaked out and you smirked as you patted his cheek. 

“Good boy. That’s all mistress wanted to hear, now are you going to be a good boy and let mistress take care of you?” You asked as you caressed his cheek and he turned his head and kissed your palm before nodding.

“I’ll be a good boy for mistress.” He whispered, making you smirk and lean down to kiss his lips passionately as your fingers tangled into his hair and pulled him close. 

“You are such a good boy.” You smiled before you started to strip him down and then you took off the rest of your clothes. Thor scooted up to the headboard of the bed and you grabbed the vibranium cuffs made specifically for Thor and you grabbed his wrists gently before securing them over his head. “Too tight?”

“Not at all, mistress.” He whispered and you smiled before kissing down his chest and your lips wrapped around his nipple sucking on his taut bud softly. 

“You have such an amazing body, I could spend all day exploring your beautiful body.” You whispered against his chest and you kissed down his body pressed soft kisses along his shaft and you rubbed his thighs. He groaned softly as you licked up his cock slowly as you smirked up at him. “What do you want, baby?” 

He whined softly deep in his throat as you trailed your tongue up his shaft. “I-I want your mouth.” He whispered making you smirk and you took the tip of him in your mouth sucking softly. He moaned loudly as his eyes rolled into the back of his head as you took him down your throat. You gagged around the base of him but you swallowed around him as your eyes looked up at him. 

You pulled off with a lewd pop and you stroked him with your one hand. “You’re so handsome, baby boy. Especially when mistress forces the sweet little noises out of you.” You purred as you sucked on his head gently making him moan and his hips jolted. You smirked up at him before you took him back down your throat and you stroked what you couldn’t fit with your hand. You swallowed around him before moving up to lick at his tip. 

“M-mistress, p-please?” He whined and you pulled off of him to kiss up his chest and you kissed his lips softly as you straddled his lap.

“What do you want from mistress?” You asked him as you trailed your hands up his chest to squeeze his neck softly smirking at his flushed cheeks and tearful eyes. 

“I-I w-want your pussy, my q-queen. Please?” He stuttered as he leaned forward and you smiled and kissed him softly as you cupped his face. 

“You’re such a good boy and because you asked so nicely, mistress will give you what you want.” You purred before reaching behind you and lined his cock up to your pussy before slowly sinking down on it. You moaned softly as Thor groaned loudly and bucked his hips up to thrust his length all the way into your pussy.

 “T-thank y-you, mistress.” He cried out as you started riding him slowly and you kissed on his jaw and down his neck. “M-mistress, I-I want-” He was cut off by a moan as you clenched around him when his tip hit your sweet spot. 

“Mm, what do you want, love?” You asked as you moved up and down fast on his cock and your walls clenched around him like a vice. 

“I-I w-want you to c-choke me.” He whimpered and you smirked at him before moving your hand up his chest and wrapping around his throat. He cried out as you squeezed his throat tight but not too tight and you started moving up and down on his cock faster making him moan louder. 

“Mm, such a good boy. You’re so pretty like this. Love when you act like a little needy boy for me.” You purred as you nipped on his jaw as you moaned in his ear as your walls clenched and pulsed around his thick cock, that was splitting you open but you wanted to take care of him first. “I’m close, baby boy but Mistress wants you to cum first. Want you to fill me up when I cum.” You whispered to him as you moved faster letting out moans.

“M’c-close, m-mistress.” He whined as he bucked his hips up and he tugged on the handcuffs wanting to touch you. 

“Cum for me, baby. I know you can do it.” You whispered to him and that was all he needed before he came deep in your clenching and pulsing cunt. He poured his hot cum deep in your tight pussy making you moan and arch your back as you came hard around his cock. Your thighs started shaking around his hips and you heard a snap and you looked up at Thor and he had snapped the cuffs before his hands wrapped around your hips and he flipped you two over, making you squeal softly. 

“You were sweet on me, my queen. Now, let me take care of you.” He whispered to you as he held you close, making you smile. You two would need new cuffs but you could worry about that later, not while Thor was pounding into your sensitive pussy making your eyes roll into the back of your head. You were sweet on him, that’s for sure.

#thor x reader #thor imagine #thor smut #Thor Odinson #thor odinson x you #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson smut #thor odinson one shot #thor odinson x y/n #marvel smut #MARVEL FANDOM #marvel fic #marvel #fanfic #fandom #fanfiction #2022 kinktober #kinktober

[catherinnn]

Whatever I want?

eddie munson x fem!reader

friends to lovers with Eddie where at one of Steve’s parties your friends try to find out if Eddie is a dom or a sub, and when he doesn’t want to answer, you have no choice but to find out yourself.

warnings: SMUT (+18), porn with a little plot, sexual tension, piv, unprotected sex, oral (f&m), fingering, dom!Eddie, idk what else.

3.1k words of pure smut with a the tiniest of plots.

a/n: he's so hot look at this gif omfg

You were at another one of Steve’s famous parties. He threw one every time his parents were out of town. You were very good friends with him thanks to Robin, who had been your best friend since middle school.

Eddie was here too, you don´t even know how, but you convinced him to come. He was also a good friend of yours since freshmen year, then he became good friends with Robin and Steve, Nancy was also in your little group. And thankfully, they all came tonight.

You were currently playing drinking games with them in the kitchen. The music was still very loud here too, even though they were playing it from the living room, where most people were dancing.

Steve had a girl under his arm, she was playing too, and the friend she had come with, a blonde girl who was a little too flirty with Eddie.

You and Eddie weren’t anything more than friends—per say. You two flirted quite a lot, but you are used to brush it off since Eddie flirts with everyone. Your other three friends don’t really agree with you on this though. Even with you two present and clearly listening to the conversation, they would still talk about how thick your sexual tension is, and make comments like “just kiss her already” when you two are talking.

Basically, you aren’t really in any position to be jealous. Does that stop you? Definitely not. The knot that forms in your chest every time she makes a comment about his tattoos or his hair shows it very clearly.

“What about you, Rob? Are you a top or a bottom?” Nancy asks.

“I’m very much a virgin still, so I have no proof of this, but I think I’d like the bottom position”

“Same” you answer and take a sip out of your cup.

“Really?” Nancy asks you this time.

“I mean, versatile, but I prefer bottom too”

“Thought you’d be on my side, I prefer to be on top, always” Nancy answers.

“Yeah me too” Steve answers this time. “What about you, Munson? Sub or dom?”

“Why do wanna know, big boy?” he jokes.

“Oh, come on” Steve complains.

“Why are you so interested? Do you wanna know if we’re compatible?” Eddie jokes again and Steve rolls his eyes while Robin starts a debate.

“I think he’s a sub”

“Yeah, totally” Nancy agrees.

“With those looks? No way, do you see the way he dresses? And the music he listens to?” Steve argues.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Robin jumps. “He’s a sweetheart inside, he’s definitely a bottom”

“Yeah, I thinks so too, Eddie, who's right?” Nancy asks him.

“No, I’m having fun with this conversation” he says with a smirk. “I’d like to hear your thoughts though, you’re suspiciously quiet on this topic” He asks looking at you.

“Well, I don’t know the answer, do I?” you tell him.

“Yet” Steve says but you ignore him.

“I’d still like to know what you think” he insists.

“Alright, I’ll have to agree with Steve on this one, even though you are very sweet and caring, I think you’re definitely a top”

“Do we know anyone he has slept with?” Steve asks.

“Why? Do you wanna ask them how is Eddie in bed? That would just be weird, Steve” Robin complains.

“Well, you know what? My room is available for you tonight if you answer our question later” Steve tells Eddie but he just laughs at the odd proposal.

You keep playing, forgetting about the debate. The blondie—whose name you already forgot—keeps flirting with Eddie.

At one point you go to the bathroom, but when you return to the kitchen, your friends aren’t there anymore. You go to the garden of the house that is next to the kitchen, to see if they’re out smoking, but you have no luck. Until you see your longhaired friend coming outside.

“Hey, I lost you for a second” Eddie says.

“I was trying to find all of you”

“Oh, they’re all dancing in the living room, apparently this is Robin’s favourite song”

“And you don’t dance?”

“I’d prefer not, but I don’t even have a partner to dance with” he said looking at you as if saying ‘you weren’t there to dance with me’.

“Oh no? What about that blonde from before?” you say not looking at him.

“What about her?”

“She wouldn’t stop flirting with you, I bet she would have gladly danced with you”

“Well, I’d still prefer to dance with you, and flirt with you too”

You laugh. “Don’t try to be smug, Munson”

“I’m not trying anything, princess! Why? Do you not like flirting with me?”

“I didn’t say that” it was your time to smirk.

“Then, what are you saying?”

“Is that all you do? Flirt? Act all smooth but not do anything about it?”

“Do you want me to do something about it?”

“With the blondie? No.”

He said your name, as if telling you to be serious.

“I want you to do what you really want, and if it is just flirting then fine, a bit disappointing, but fine”

“Whatever I want?” He asked and you nodded, looking at him expectantly. Wanting him to do something, but not telling him what. Leaving it up to him what the next move would be. His call.

He looks at you, still deciding if he should just go for it, he rarely gets what he wants, and this was his perfect opportunity to get it, to get you.

You were in a step of distance, he closed it. Grabbed you with his hand on your cheek, his lips so close to yours, breathing each other’s breath. Until he closed that distance too. He kissed your lips as if he had been waiting for this a long time. He actually had, and you had too, so you kissed him just the same.

Your hands went to his hair, his on your waist pulling you even closer. You breaths getting heavier, showing how exited you two were getting. Eddie stopped the kiss but stayed a centimetre away from your lips.

“Princess, I’d love to do everything I want to you, but if I do it here we’d be making quite a scene”

“Steve’s bedroom” you smiled and only said those two words. That was enough for him to take your hand and walk you inside going upstairs.

“This one” you said and walked with him behind you.

He closed the door behind him and leaned on it while you kissed him again, even more desperate that before. You pulled on his hair and he moaned into your mouth. His hands went under your shirt, feeling all of your skin before pulling the top out of your body. His lips went to your neck, you didn’t even try to contain your breathy moans while he kissed and bit on that sensitive spot.

“mmh, Eds” he went up to your lips again, grabbed you by your cheeks while you pulled your hands under his shirt this time, you felt all of his torso, repeating his process and throwing his shirt next to where yours laid.

He started playing with the straps of your bra. “Can I take this off too?”

You almost moaned just by his breathy voice. Instead, you just nodded, not trusting your voice. He grabbed you by your jaw softly but clearly showing dominance. “Words” he simply said.

“Whatever you want, right?” you challenged.

It was his time to contain a moan and just limited himself to take your bra off. Quickly forgetting about everything in his head the minute he saw your tits.

“Oh, baby” he grabbed a handful of them with both of his hands. “Been wanting to play with these for so long” he whimpered and occupied his mouth with one of your tits, leaving hickeys all around the nipple to then play with it with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth.

“Hmph” you whimpered, biting your lip. Not being able to get words out, getting so desperate by the way he was making you feel.

When he finally felt satisfied—for now—with your tits, he kept kissing his way down on your body, at the same time, he started to walk you to the bed behind you. You fell, with your back laying on it while his lips finally reached their destination. Your skirt.

He grabbed the hem of it, not thinking twice and taking it off of you. His hands now on your ankles went all the way up your legs, feeling all of the skin of your thighs to then grab the hem of your underwear, taking it off too.

“This wet for me?” he teased. “All for little old me?”

 “Eds, please”

“Please what, darling?”

“Do something”

“But you said you want me to do whatever I want to you, and I want to tease you so much, hear your pretty little noises and begs”

So he did that, he slowly kissed your legs, then your thighs, and all around your pussy.

Your hands went to his hair. “Please?”

“You ask so nicely, and sound so pretty, I’ll give you what you want, just tell me” he said. “Tell me what you want”

“Y-your mouth” you said. “Your mouth on me”

 He didn’t respond, he immediately ran his tongue all over your slit, collecting all of your juices, and then moaned at the feeling of you on his tongue, the taste of you on his tongue. Swallowed and went straight to attacking your clit with his mouth.

“Mmhh, yes Eddie! Just like that” you pulled his hair at the feeling. Started to move your hips to follow his pace but he quickly pulled his arms around you to keep you still.

“Oh, oh, don’t stop” he wasn’t even planning on it, but you said it just to make sure.

His right hand went to your hole, putting two fingers in. You moaned his name in response and he moved them up and down inside you, curling them just to make you jump.

He kept playing with your clit the perfect way, until all became too much and you felt yourself getting so close to your first orgasm of the night.

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m so close”

“Come for me” he practically moaned. “Come all over my face”

And you did exactly that, moaning—no, screaming his name along with some curses.

He didn’t stop until he got all of your juices on his mouth—and all over his cheeks and chin and his nose.

He looked up to your face and it must have been your favourite sight ever. Shirtless Eddie with his face all covered in you, a big smirk showing his teeth, and smug eyes looking right into yours, with one arm wrapped around your hips to keep you from moving and the other under him whose fingers were just inside you. 

You took another deep breath to calm you down after that orgasm you just had, and a little bit to calm you down after such a sight.

He sat up in front of you and you spoke again.

“I think it’s a little unfair that I’m completely naked and you’re just shirtless”

He laughed. “I just gave you the best orgasm in your life and you’re still complaining?” the teasing is back. He knows he gave you your best orgasm because, before tonight, let’s not forget you were—are?—best friends, and you have complained several times on how the guys you’ve been with have roughly made you come before.

“I’m not complaining, I just think it’s my turn to give you yours” you said seductively and he laughed again at the comment. He started to take his belt off, then unzipping his pants—all while looking directly at you—he put them down a little bit and before he could go to his boxers, you stopped him.

“Off. I’m completely naked, it’s only fair”

“Baby, I think you’re confusing our roles here. I’m the one who makes the orders” he said but he took his pants off anyways, then teased you a little bit playing with the hem of his boxers, your eyes went back and ford from his face to his underwear, wanting him to just take it off already.

He pulled them down and off of his body. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the sight of your best friend’s cock—big cock.

 You sat up, with his dick right in front of your face, and you did the only thing that was running up your mind in that moment, you grabbed it and started kissing it, looking up at his eyes while his head fell back with a groan. You started liking, kissing until you put the tip into your mouth.

“Mmhh babe” he moaned but pulled you back quickly. “I wanna cum after I’m inside you” he laid you back down and positioned himself in between your legs, you wrapped them around him, he lowered more to be on top of you.

You started kissing again, Eddie thought for a minute that he wanted to tease you a little more to hear you beg for his cock, but at the same time, he was so hard it was painful, he needed to be inside you as soon as possible.

He ran his tip all over your pussy, and then finding your hole, he slid right in. You both moaned in unison and then he kept sinking inside you, every inch until you felt his hairy pelvis against your cunt.

“Can I move?” he whispered next to your ear after a few seconds to let you adjust.

“Please”

And so he started to thrust inside you, slowly but deep at first, feeling every inch of him. With his grunts right next to your ear, and your gasps next to his.

Then he moved his pace to a faster one, your nails against his back, marking him just like he did to you a few moments earlier.

“Oh, baby” he started. “Feels so good to be inside you, do- you know how many times I’ve thought about this, about you like this, moaning and g-gasping under me, so tight, so f-fucking good”

“Eddieeee” you whimpered.

“Feel so good around my cock” you moaned again and he pulled your legs on his shoulders, feeling even deeper inside you.

He grabbed your tits again, squeezed them and slapped one of them. Watching them bounce at every thrust he made, watching your mouth opened, gasping, moaning for him, your eyes shut, and your nails digging into the skin of his arms around your legs. It all felt so. fucking. good. He doubted he could last much longer.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last” he said when he started stroking your clit, he moved your legs back down to his waist, so he could kiss you again, stayed as close to you as possible, glued to your body. “Your pussy fells so good on my cock”

He kept kissing your lips, stroking your clit, thrusting into you until it all became too much for you.

“Eds! Oh fuck, I’m coming, Eddie”

“Yes, come on my cock, show me how good it feels”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, Eddieee” You moaned while you felt yourself coming.

He kept going, thrusts very sloppy at this moment, kissing every inch of your skin he could find, your lips, cheek, neck, all of them.

“Mmh, baby, I gotta pull out” he said so you could unwrap your legs from his waist, but you didn’t move. “Babe, I’m coming! Let me pull out”

“Come inside” you said. “Wanna feel you”

“Oh, you can’t just say things like that, fuuuck”

You felt his cum filling you. He fell on top of you, both recovering from your orgasms, trying to catch your breaths.

You felt his arm wrap around you after a while, hugging you. You cuddled back to him, hugging him by his neck. You stayed there, brething heavily with him still inside you.

“That was- fuck-“ he tried to say.

“Yeah” you agreed.

He called your name. “I’ve been wanting to do that with you for so long” he laughed and you hugged him tighter.

“Me too, Eds” You left kisses on his ckeeks softly, not wanting this moment to end.

“You gotta stop with the sweetness while I’m still inside you because I’ll get hard again” he warned you and you laughed.

You turned your head to the nightstand, looking at the clock that was on it. “It’s still pretty early” you said.

“Wanna go downstairs again?” he suggested and you nodded.

“And when this party is over you can come back to my place, how does that sound?” you said.

“Literally perfect” he said. “Can we do this again?”

“I’m giving us a moment to recover now, and then you’re gonna fuck me again on my bed… and tomorrow morning taking a shower maybe?”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, fuck” he joked. “I’m taking your word for it, princess”

“Scout's honour”

You got dressed and went downstairs again.

“Look who decided to show up!” Robin cheered once she saw you two. “What were you doooing” she sang, you both kept quiet and smiled at the teasing.

“Oh man, I thought you had left!” Steve said.

“And miss the opportunity you gave me to use your bed, Harrington? No way” Eddie said.

“Wait… seriously?”

“What did you think we were doing when you saw us come down?” You asked, amused by his state of drunkenness.

“Oh man, seriously?!” he complained.

“You said I could use it!” Eddie defended himself.

“Yeah, but on the condition that you tell us if you’re a top or a bottom!” Nancy accused him. “So? What is it, Munson?”

He didn’t say anything and turned his head to you, looking at you expectantly. “Yeah, what is it babe?”

“Steve and I were right” you said and said boy started to cheer, already forgetting about his bed situation, so stocked about being the one that was right.  

Eddie started laughing at his yelling and jumps and then talked again.

“I have to say though, they weren’t entirely wrong” Eddie said referring to Nancy and Robin, who looked so annoyed. “I’m still versatile, but I do prefer being on top”

“Hmm, I didn’t get to see that other part, guess I’ll have to keep trying then” you said to him.

“Please do” he quickly said and kissed you again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson +18 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #dom!eddie

[achubbydumpling]

I love your writing, especially when it comes to fat Bucky and/or Steve!!

What are some of your favorite weight gain tropes with them? And what's the biggest you like to see them? Bc I LOVE when they get to the point of mobility struggles and talking seriously about accommodating for immobility 🥵 so any thoughts on that, feel free to share 👀👀👀

hi! thank you so much, as slow as I am at answering them I really really really love getting asks like this (I mean who doesn't love compliments haha)

speaking of (im)mobility I gotta link two posts, one by me and one by @mylevisdontfitanymore with lots of fics about immobility:

https://www.tumblr.com/achubbydumpling/708676381409771520/whats-your-opinion-on-immobilitynearly-immobile

https://www.tumblr.com/mylevisdontfitanymore/713904301783810048/do-you-have-any-works-or-links-to-other-works-that

Now, to your questions:

What are some of your favorite weight gain tropes with them?

what isn't a favourite of mine? 😂 hm if I had to narrow it down to three probably

weight gain as a metaphor for healing from past trauma

old men finally getting to live the life of their kinkiest dreams

accidental kink discovery

(are those even weight gain tropes? 🤔)

and I usually prefer Bucky to gain (more) weight, I don't really have an explanation for this, it's just what I prefer (feel free to psychoanalyse that 😂)

And what's the biggest you like to see them?

any size at all really, fat, overweight, underweight, morbidly obese, the brain rot is in the stucky 😌😂

no I mean I don't mind as long as it's somewhat "realistic", i.e. a person of that weight has lived on earth before, idk I'm just not really into the thousands of pounds weights? I feel like at some point you can't really escalate anymore in terms of writing the experience, how does 3000lbs feel different from 1000lbs? it can be done, I've read some excellent stories before

but generally I'd say anything below 1000lbs is like a soft limit for me while reading and especially when I'm writing the story

that being said hnnng mobility struggles 🥵🥵🥵

Bc I LOVE when they get to the point of mobility struggles and talking seriously about accommodating for immobility 🥵 so any thoughts on that, feel free to share 👀👀👀

is there anything better than constantly being out of breath, being painfully aware of how fat and out of shape they are when they're just walking to the kitchen or when they're just too big to fit somewhere

I love it when immobility is constantly on the horizon, threatening to take over but for right now they can still get around, right now it's exhausting and annoying and so so so hot just to do the simplest things because of their weight and their size.

and then with Bucky and Steve I think mobility aids and accomodations would come relatively late into the process, not because Bucky doesn't want them, but because he 1) has the/a supersoldier serum so that eases some of the intense discomfort and pain and mostly reduces it to an annoyance or some things just take him longer and 2) he has a super soldier around to help out

I think some accomodations would creep in without them even noticing, like

when Bucky first moves into Steve's apartment it's still a bachelor pad, mostly Steve's decor and some furnishings SHIELD put in for Steve, one of the things they replace is the low futon style bed

they aren't even really thinking about accomodating Bucky's weight yet, but they both gravitate towards a higher bed, maybe a really nice box-spring bed?

(I honestly don't know much about beds 😅 but I like the ones that go all the way to the bottom and don't have feet or short ones because I feel like those would be less likely to break due to weight or.. shenanigans)

something that's around hip-height, that makes it easier for Bucky to get up since he doesn't have to heave himself up from such a low position

also something with a high weight limit just because hey, they're big guys even when they aren't actively gaining and getting heavier and when they're having fun in bed (feeding, stuffing, sex (in that or any order haha)) they don't want to have to worry about accidentally breaking anything

heavy-duty chairs obviously no arm rests, as hot as it is to try and squeeze his fat ass in, Bucky doesn't need that at every meal, I feel like they'd have a huge sofa, not just a three seater or something but the full thing with like ottomans and pull-out sections

heavy duty everything really though I feel like SHIELD would've added that just because they know Captain America has super strength and would probably appreciate some sturdy furniture in his apartment, someone had to furnish that apartment for Steve, I can't imagine him thawing out of the ice and heading straight to bed, bath and beyond 😂

that's furniture, what about behavioural accomodations?

Steve definitely gets Bucky whatever he asks for, no need to get up when Steve is already on his way, I love the headcanon that the serum gave Steve a serious energy boost, like he can barely sit still and even if he does his thoughts are racing instead, so yeah most of the time he's puttering around the apartment anyway and he's more than happy to get Bucky whatever he wants

whenever they go out they're quick to order an uber or use public transport, they don't walk much when they're together, Steve enjoys running, even when he gains weight I think it's a good outlet for his pent up energy, and if they want to enjoy the city, they'd rather sit in a café or on a shaded bench in a park, than walking around aimlessly just for the sake of it

(this is like 80 million head canons stacked on top of each other 😂)

Bucky with a cane enough said, actually not enough said

his joints, bones, muscles, tendons are probably a mess of scar tissue after 70 years of being the winter soldier, so I 100% support the headcanon that he struggles with chronic pain from that

his prosthesis looks heavy af which could lead to some one-sided overuse and when he takes it off, he's leaning to the other side, a cane could help with balance and

imagine he's so heavy and his thighs are so thick that he has a heavy waddle that makes him sway side to side and the cane helps him stabilize his body during every step he takes 😩😩😩

it's a clichée at this point but riding a mobility scooter while buying a shitton of food, Bucky is already pretty big at this point, like "worrying about the weight limit on those scooters"-big, even with the arm rests pushed up Bucky is squeezed in, he's definitely wider than the seat and you can see his hips and thighs hanging over the seat of the scooter from the back (Steve loves letting Bucky lead the way just to get a view of that backside 😏😂)

this is also the point where they're like "ok, we gotta seriously talk about mobility aids now" I imagine Bucky's been using the cane at least since he was below 300lbs (ooh braces too maybe to support his knee?) and the first time he used the mobility scooter was a novelty and a "I wanna feel fat"-moment, you know what I mean?

but then Bucky notices how much less exhausted he is after grocery shopping, usually he takes a short nap after and he used to think it was just mostly because of all the lights and sounds and people, just a sensory thing, but now it's like "no, carrying around all this weight is definitly a big part of it"

idk if they'd go straight for a personal mobility scooter, I feel like Bucky would maybe add a walking frame first? not a lot of moving parts and it's similar to his cane, so there's some familiarity there, it's helpful around the house but outside it's usually more of an annoyance because people won't move out of his way and the uneven pavements make it feel less stable than inside

next he might start thinking about a wheelchair, the jump to a mobility scooter feels huge, something manual feels easier to think about, he'd still have to push himself

but after trying it out Bucky has to admit that it takes a lot of strength and endurance to push himself around and he doesn't want Steve to constantly be pushing him, not because he thinks Steve wouldn't want to do it but because he also wants to look at Steve's face while they're out and about and just chatting about everything and nothing, and he'd give up a lot of freedom if he went with a manual wheelchair right now

so a mobility scooter it is

it takes Bucky another few months to actually decide, the reason it feels like such a huge step is partially because of what other people will think, Bucky has a slight exibitionist streak, but getting around in a mobility scooter will draw even more attention than he already gets

it's almost a self-proclaimed, "I'm too fat to walk", which isn't true, he can and does still walk around fine, maybe not that far or that often, but he can still do it and hell, he gets off to the thought, Steve gets off on it too, it's not like what people assume is going to be wrong

but this big investment is almost like a final nail in the coffin of his mobility, is it giving up or giving in? finally permission to stop worrying, to stop scoping restaurants and cafés for chairs that'll hold him, to start demanding people make space for him instead of jostling his walking frame or bumping into his cane

in the end Bucky doesn't regret his decision, even for a second, he gets to visit his favourite places in the city without pain, without wheezing from exhaustion, without feeling embarassed by how much space he takes up (as delicious as that shame could sometimes be when Steve talks about those moments afterwards in the bedroom)

and maybe they finally cycle back around to replacing their current bed, not because it's broken but because they're dangerously quickly approaching that heavy weight limit and maybe a bariatric bed is the next step in Bucky's journey

#asks #Anonymous #immobility #fat bucky #chubby steve #this was really fun to write #thanks for the questions nonny!

[mistiell]

Quirks Stranger Things Characters have

Contains: The Fruity Four (AKA Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Nancy Wheeler)

Eddie Munson

- His room is constantly a mess

- Clothes on the floor, sheets and blankets askew, unfinished homework strewn all across his desk

- He tries to tidy up when you come over, but it’s still a little chaotic in classic Eddie fashion

- The man cannot cook for shit

- He lives off of cereal and microwaveable dinners.

- He tried cooking you breakfast when he stayed over once and nearly burned your house down

- safe to say you banned him from ever touching another kitchen appliance until you could show him how to not set the toaster on fire.

- He has a habit of fidgeting with his rings and biting his nails

- Whenever you catch him doing the latter, you take his hand and let him fidget with your fingers instead

- Which he loves btw-

- His handwriting is messy but in a pretty way

- His brain often moves too fast for his hands to keep up so the letters always look rushed and are slanted to the right

- He’s like an encyclopedia for the most random shit ever

- He can’t tell you who the president was 20 years ago or who invented the light bulb

-what he can tell you is that he learned that turtles can breathe through their butts after getting fucking zooted and watching animal planet for 5 hours straight

- He loves late night drives

- Bonus if you tag along with him

- He likes to say he drinks his coffee black “like his soul”, and he does most of the time

- but in reality, he actually prefers it to be sweet as fuck

- he’ll only ever get it that way if you’re ordering and no one can see what’s in the cup though

- or if you two are home alone

Steve Harrington

- He hates white chocolate

- I have absolutely nothing to back this up. It’s just a vibe

- Before all the shit with the watergate, he used to love swimming

- He still enjoys the water, but he gets a little anxious now when he can’t see the bottom

- He has a hoard of comfy sweaters

- You’ve stolen at least three

- dw, though, cause he doesn’t mind at all

- He actually really likes when you wear his clothes

- you’re the only person he lets touch his hair

- and the only other person aside from Dustin who knows what his hair routine is

- he cracks his knuckles absent mindedly

- he’s made it a habit to just bend down and retie your shoe laces if he notices they’re starting to come undone

- but unlike eddie, he would never tie them together

- Eddie teases him relentlessly for being whipped for you but he doesn’t care

- He chews on the ends of his pens and pencils

- He won’t do it if he’s borrowing it from someone else though

Robin Buckley

- she counts her fingers discreetly when she’s nervous

- It’s repetitive and it gives her something to focus on to calm down

- She cuts her own bangs

- If you have longer hair, she’s always asking to cut yours

- She hates black coffee, but she also hates when it’s overly sweet

- Her bed is filled with a bunch of pillows and blankets for top tier comfiness

- seriously. Cuddling is the best in her bed

- She has a habit of forgetting her things at your place whenever she sleeps over

- She’s left her toothbrush, hair brush, half her wardrobe

- You often joke that she’s slowly moving in with you

- She has a habit of talking during movies

- Especially horror movies

- She yells at the characters as if they could hear her

- Lots of “No, no, no! What’re you doing, you idiot!”

Nancy Wheeler

- She has a bunch of polaroids that she keeps in a little box

- Some are of your friend group, others are of the two of you

- She’s an amazing cook

- She makes you breakfast whenever you stay over at her place and it’s always amazing

- her handwriting is always neat, even when she’s rushing

- It’s kind of a mix between cursive and printing

- She writes little sticky note reminders and sticks them to her mirror

- Sort of like a to-do list

- She colour codes her notes

- And her annotations whenever she annotates a book

- Her room is normally spotless, so when it’s a little messy, that’s a tell tale sign that she’s not doing well

- She prefers sweet stuff over salty stuff

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve stranger things #nancy stranger things #nancy wheeler #nancy x reader #robin buckley #robin x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie st4 #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson

[freakingoutthesquares]

Pulp Diction - Part Two Part One here Words: Paul Lester, Photographer: Pat Pope Melody Maker, 27 May 1995 Transcription: Acrylic Afternoons

Starring: JARVIS COCKER as THE JUNKSHOP ROMANTIC STEVE MACKEY as THE PLAYBOY RUSSELL SENIOR as THE ALIEN CANDIDA DOYLE as THE CARE BEAR KID NICK BANKS as THE PIE-MUNCHER

PULPSEX (COME AGAIN)

The B-side of "Common People" is "Underwear" (a very, very Pulp word that, underwear), a brief encounter between a fully clothed boy and a semi-naked girl. Says Jarvis Cocker, the Morrissey With A Groin™: "It's about how, once you've taken somebody's clothes off, it's hard to put them back on and leave and say, 'Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't actually mean that.'"

Forgive me for being so literal, but I was wondering... "Do I wear underwear? I didn't used to, but do now, I hate boxer shorts, they're crap. I don't see the point of them - there's no support. If you run, it's all flopping about. I prefer the trunks type - not with the legging, but kind of like Y-fronts. You can get them from Marks & Spencer in three-packs. I have tangas as well, but they're disgusting - you know, those really tiny ones."

Is Jarv into "sexy" women's underwear? "No, I hate all that Ann Summers, supposedly erotic lingerie where it's like, black polyester satin with synthetic red trim and synthetic lace."

Does he ever stop himself from having un-PC thoughts? Sexist ones, for example? "Not really. I was brought up in a completely female-dominated environment," he backtracks to his childhood - his father left home when he was seven, and he was brought up by his strict mother, who, suitably tragicomically, would hit him with a plastic hairbrush, only to replace it with a wooden one when it broke. "So it would be difficult for me... I mean, I do think there are differences between men and women. But I like that. I'm not particularly into homogeneity. Vive le difference!"

Are we finally allowed to admit, post-"Loaded", to admiring the female form? "Well, it's a lot nicer to look at than the male form, isn't it? And I think women would agree with that as well. The shape is more balanced, it's got nice curves, and you've got the breasts which balance the bottom part..."

Hey! This is a family paper. What about men? "You can have good-looking men as well, I suppose. It's just that a women's sexual parts are nicer than a man's"

Do you have conventionally male tastes in women? "Yeah, I think I have. Actually, there's a shop I keep meaning to go to which has just opened up in Soho which sells more kind of... demurely sexual things - they're not in-your-face sexy. I love to see... I don't get that much of a chance, you know, but I love to see..."

Apparently Nick Cave, Mr Dark Knight Of The Soul, gets turned on by busty secretary types. "I know what you're saying, yeah - towny lassies. Yeah, they're alright, them."

I must say, this is all a bit of a surprise, Jarvis. Just before, you were talking about homogeneity... "I don't even like the milk." ...and I was wondering: do you realise a lot of people reckon you're androgynous? "I wouldn't say I was. It's just that, well, there's no way I could be macho. It's just a physical fact. I couldn't pull it off."

Huh-huh. He said 'pull it off'.

"No, I'm not androgynous. I just like taking care of my appearance. Not that I'm in to designer labels, or anything. 'Oh, you're wearing Versace tonight.' I just like well-made clothes. And I'm not bothered what other people wear, either. You often get people coming up to you who just tell you about their eyeliner, and that's boring. I don't think people should be allowed to look interesting if they're actually boring. They should be prosecuted under the Trade Descriptions Act."

Sorry for prying but, to paraphrase a well-known pronouncement, are you a heterosexual who's never had a homosexual experience? "Yeah, yeah. I'm as straight as a dye. I mean, it's not anything to be proud of, it's just that I've never had the inclination. I can appreciate that some men look nice, but I don't feel any kind of attraction towards them."

Turns out Jarvis Cocker is a bit of an Iron John sort on the quiet. Not that you'd tell at first sight, of course: he makes Kate Moss look like Hattie Jacques.

Can thin men be lads? "Yeah. Candida's [Pulp keyboardist] boyfriend's thinner than me, and he's got very laddish tendencies." There you go, then. "It can be quite funny, that laddish thing," Jarv goes on. "Like the lads at school - they were always doing stupid things like sprayings 'Welcome To Colditz' on the school wall, or like, when my sister was about 15 and she was walking back from the chip shop eating some chips, and this gang of lads were going, 'Oi, do you want a sausage with them chips, love?' It's just daft."

I've just realised: Jarvis Cocker is the kid from "Kes", 25 years on.

PULPPEOPLE

There is more to Pulp than Jarvis Cocker, though. Without Pulp, Jarvis would make a credible space-age Frank Sinatra, crooning torch songs against some cheesy orchestral backdrop on the Rialto circuit, or appearing on the "Des O' Connor" show like some kind of diseased, anorexic lounge lizard in full second-hand regalia, a surreally suave cabaret turn for the Camden set.

But it's the other four members of Pulp who give Jarvis Cocker's glum bus-stop love stories and X-rated anecdotes an appropriately glam epic soundtrack, who give his comic bark a cosmic backing, who help achieve the perfect union of accessibility and experimentation.

Nick Banks (percussion), Russell Senior (guitar) and Steve Mackey (bass) make up the Morodorised/motorised rhythm section, while Candida Doyle supplies the battery of Farfisa Organs, arcane Stylophones and assorted synth relics which give Pulp their unique Seventies/Nineties sound, a smashing clash of the kitsch and the colossal, the tacky and the titanic.

What are Pulp? Pulp are: Acrylic acid. Dralon disco. Terylene techno. Formica funk. Or, to put it another way, Pulp are: Kraftwerk play Tindersticks - how else to define Pulp's shuddering depiction of Jarvis' sad bedsit melodramas? (in fact, Pulp love Kraftwerk, and Jarvis, now a fully qualified film-maker, has made videos for Tindersticks.)

But who are Pulp? And are the really as reptilian-strange as they look? The Four Other Members Of Pulp take it in turns to join me in the grim interview room to draw rough sketches in the air of their bandmates.

Nick Banks is first. "Russell always seems like the sensible one, the one who wears a shirt and tie," says the 30-year-old drummer. "He's very straight-laced, but it's like he's so straight, he's strange. If you see what I mean.

"Candida [32] is pretty strange as well. Especially when she gets giggly and drunk, which is usually on champagne these days," he adds, doing his best Noel Coward impression. Nick, another of Pulp's Venusian-next-door types tells me that, while none of Pulp are married, they are all in steady relationships, and that Russell lives with his girlfriend and their two kids in Sheffield. Nick and Russell still live in Sheffield, while Jarvis, Steve and Candida have all moved to London.

Banks also tells me that, whenever Pulp are on tour, he shares a room with Russell, apparently the excuse for all manner of sinister activities.

"He [Russell] takes to running round the room with no clothes on. Why? God knows. He runs a bath, and you'd think he'd then go in the bathroom. But no. He has to take all his clothes off, then start running the bath, and he'll be running round the room getting his things together. And I'll be there trying to watch 'Sportsnight', or something. lt's not a pretty sight."

Steve Mackey- Pulp's dashing 29-year-old ladykiller who shares a flat with Justin from Elastica and is a dead ringer for Alex James from Blur verifies this when he says, "You just don't enter the room when Nick and Russell are in there. You stay away. I've looked in at times and there's, like, pants down, breasts showing, all sorts."

It soon transpires that Banks has been fairly intimate with Jarvis Cocker as well.

"I went camping with Jarvis a few years back," he recalls, preparing to shatter some illusions, "and it really pissed it down, and there were eight of us, and we were all piled into this caravan, sleeping on the floor in sleeping bags. And l'm on the floor one night, and I look up, and there's Jarvis' bollocks in front of my face! And he's trying to lower himself onto his sleeping bag! And l'm, like, gerroff! Get'em out me way! Eurgh. Horrible. A terrible sight. A vision of hell. He doesn't wear much underwear, you see, so it was balls out for the lads. Frightening. It'll haunt me for the rest of me life, that."

Does it bemuse Nick that this "vision of hell" is, along with Damon Albarn, Liam Gallagher and Brett Anderson, one of the four most desired frontmen in British (indie) pop?

"Not bemuse. I find it quite funny, really, cos he's tall, he's thin, he's gangly, he's not athletic and he hasn't got all that great co-ordination... it's funny for people to see him as this sexual being when I've seen him trip up on the carpet so many times. It's nice that he can triumph over adversity and give hope to people."

Russell Senior, who is 34 but acts even older, tells me about forthcoming Pulp tracks "Pencil Skirt" ("Conventional Pulp fodder"), "Mile End" ("It's an alternative view of Blur's East End, the dark side of 'Parklife'") and "Monday Morning" ("it's bluebeat/ska - it sounds dreadful, but it's well within the boundaries of acceptable taste"). And he thinks Pulp, not Oasis, are the Rolling Stones to Blur's Beatles. "We're not kitsch," he states, flatly, "that's just the way Jarvis dresses. There's a dark, almost satanic edge to Pulp that I've always thought was quite Stones-y"

Russell is resigned to JC's dominance over Pulp in '95: "We used to be perceived more as a group, whereas it's all Jarv these days."

If there was a Pulp cartoon (set in some decrepit urban futurescope, all lurid neon reds and vivid emergency greens), it would be Russell who'd get the job of outlining the characters. In fact, some years back there was a Pulpzine with its very own Pulp caricatures.

Remembers Russell, "Nick was the pie-munching, beer-swilling, televised football kind of guy. Candida was in the toy shop, or on a multi-coloured cloud with the 'Care Bears'. Steve was the playboy with his cigars and women. Jarvis was all jumble sales and junk, space-hoppers and suspender belts. And I was the hardline, stern, don't-suffer-fools-gladly type."

Candida is last to enter the interview chamber. She isn't in a particularly fluffy-bunny-ish kind of mood today, having just chipped a tooth on some jelly babies, but she does reveal she's keen to make loads of money from Pulp, or at least enough to pay her 'leccy bill (she recently got cut off). She also says that being recognised in shops and travelling in limos "makes me feel like l'm drunk or on drugs, like l'm in an unreal world, kind of dizzy."

PULPLIFE

It'll get dizzier. Especially since "Common People" is going to be this years "Girls And Boys". And especially since Jarvis Cocker, who is already this year's eccentric media plaything, has presented "Top Of The Pops" and appeared on the cover of the "Top Of The Pops" magazine with Kylie Minogue as well as on "Pop Quiz", "The Brits" and "The Big Breakfast" (who had a "Jarvis Day"!), all in the last few months alone.

As Jarvis gets chauffeured to central London via his home in Ladbroke Grove (Hard Cash = Street Name), where he will pick up some singles (Duran Duran, A-Ha, Dollar, ELO, KC & The Sunshine Band, Soft Cell, Barry White, Hot Chocolate, Freeez, The Bluetones - Jarvis, I love you) to play on the Lamacq and Whiley show later on, I join him on the car's squashy black leather back seat and wonder whether success will make a failure of him. You know, Culture Of Despair, and all that.

"No, I can't imagine that I would," is the former assistant fishmonger's reply to my enquiry: would he ever Do A Kurt Or Richey? "Because I've done other things, I know there's always a way out, another world. I always say, 'Go and be a gardener, or something - there are other things apart from music that you can do.'" Right now, Jarvis is having too good a time to do get depressed. Like appearing on every TV show under the sun...

"It's important to go on those things and not be a cheesemaster," he announces, dryly, as the Ford Granada glides through the mid-afternoon traffic. "I mean, people say, 'Why don't you go on with your cock out and say f*** off and do a dump', but that's immature and stupid. That kind of rebellious behaviour just isn't rebellious any more."

Or presenting awards on the Brits... "In those situations, you do seek solace in drink. There were all these people in these Portakabins backstage like Elton John and Sting. I went to the toilet and suddenly realised I was pissing next to Tom Jones! He had his cock out in the little urinal next to me."

Jarvis says he's not likely to surround himself with bodyguards like Prince did at the Brits ('What kind of danger are you in at a place like that? I mean, Terence Trent D'Arby's hardly going to Ninja you, is he?"), even though he got beaten up quite badly in Islington last Christmas. Generally, he's rather delighted that, after 15 years of playing the lead role in his own sordid tales of sleazy low-rent romance, Pulp are getting some reward.

"I suppose if you have a certain amount of success, you feel like you've had a kind of kitemark on you," he says as the car pulls up outside Broadcasting House and he prepares to dedicate his theme song, Dennis "Minder" Waterman's "I Could Be So Good For You", to the entire British nation "Do you know what I mean? Because I always used to feel like a marginal character, kind of stuck on the sidelines. And now I feel like, finally, I'm fit for human consumption."

#russell senior #jarvis cocker #steve mackey #candida doyle #nick banks #britpop #interview

[resident-gay-bitch]

Day One of @steddie-week - hunger / pining / somebody to love

Eddie’s having a smoke out by the old bleachers. It’s a warm day out, the sun’s shining down and there's a cool breeze that drifted through his hair to cool the back of his neck. It was nice. He wished it could be a little nicer, though. 

Tommy Hagan, the stupid oaf that he was, had just attempted to utterly humiliate in the middle of his English Oral on To Kill A Mockingbird, and despite his shocking grades, Eddie was actually very good at English and dissecting a text. He focused the main part of his essay on the prejudice themes within, granted he could understand and relate to them in one way or another, and pulled out a bloody brilliant essay if he did say so himself - though, he knew that he’d be coming close to a fail again, because Ms Click had it out for him and she hated his ‘vulgar language’ and ‘woke themes’. Bitch. Tommy had picked up on how Eddie reflected his own experiences to the text, and decided to start heckling him. You feeling a little left out, Munson? Gonna have a cry because you’re at the bottom of the food chain? All stupid shit that didn’t even make much sense because he’s pretty sure Tommy didn’t actually do the reading. 

Eddie gave him a grin and kept going until he just wouldn’t shut up, and Eddie was about to run out of time and he still had a whole paragraph to go, and so he just turned to Hagan and said, I know you can’t go three seconds without everyone's attention on you, Hagan, but don’t you think it’s a little pathetic how desperate for my attention you are? 

He got thrown out of the class instantly, and a big ‘F’ stamped on his essay. 

Whatever. 

Eddie didn’t care for all the attention he got. I mean, sure, he’d get up on tables and stomp around, preaching his shit and making a fool out of himself, but he only did that on the good days. The Confident days. The days he had something to say. Every other day, every other minute, he wished to go unnoticed. To blend in with the crowd and just live it out until graduation. But there's never a moment of peace with these jackasses. They’ve always got something to say. 

For a group of people who always like to tell Eddie how unimportant he is, they sure do take up a lot of their own time talking about him. 

It’s kinda funny, actually. 

Either way, Eddie was sick of it. He just wanted to get up there, give his oral, sit back down, and get on with his school day. He had a campaign to host tonight, and then band practice after that since Gareth was going up to Florida to visit his grandma on the weekend. So he was kind of thankful he got kicked out of class… maybe he was asking for it, he didn’t care. Now he could stand out here and smoke in peace, rather than getting balls of paper with studpid drawings or dumbass notes thrown at his head for the rest of class. 

Okay, scratch that, Eddie would prefer the bullying right now. 

From here, he had a clear view of the outdoor basketball courts. They were shitty and dinged up pretty well, the hoop no longer had a net on it - save for a singular ratty old string hanging down - and there were marks all over the backboard. The courts were mostly used by the freshman during lunchtime for dumb basketball, and as a safe ground for the science class when things were too dangerous to stand near or if they’d swell up and explode. 

But there, on the shitty courts, were Hargrove and Harrington. Two of the biggest dicks to ever grace the fine halls of Hawkins High. Eddie found their petty rivalry absolutely fucking hilarious. 

One minute ‘King Steve’s sitting all high and mighty on his throne, pretty girl on his arm, and then in walks Billy and threatens everything he stands for. 

Comedy fucking gold. 

Though, Eddie did start to feel a little sympathy for Steve about it. After having his first real interaction with Billy - a quick deal at his own goddamned school locker - he realised how much of a cunt he was. And jeez, for Steve to be Billy’s main target, he’s gotta be going through it. And not only that, but it seemed to be getting worse after Steve got dumped by Nancy Wheeler. God, that was the talk of the school for weeks. And now Steve had lost his crown and was like… nobody. Steve was actually getting heckled in the halls now - nowhere near as much as Eddie, but still. 

Yeah, maybe the little homoerotic rivalry between the two ‘Kings’ of Hawkins High wasn’t as funny as Eddie thought. 

Eddie hated when people noticed him when he wasn’t actively seeking attention, but he kinda wished Steve would. He didn’t even look at Eddie when he’d jump up on cafeteria tables anymore - which is definitely not the reason why Eddie has made this a tri-to-quater-weekly occurrence or anything - nothing. He wouldn’t pay him any mind. 

And yeah, okay, this was stupid. God it was so fucking stupid. Eddie knew that. He knew that better than anyone because why on fucking earth would the universe decide that Eddie the Freak had to trip and fall head over goddamn heels for Steve motherfucking Harrington? 

What had Eddie done - in this life or the last - that was so horrible to have deserved this fate? 

He hadn’t a clue. However, he did know it must have been utterly terrible because he’d been sporting these dumb feelings since Harrington's freshman year. Four years. For long years. 

And for what? 

He’s pretty sure they’ve spoken a total of (give or take) twenty words to one another in that time, and most of them would have been Eddie apologising for ‘accidentally’ bumping into Steve in the halls. 

Okay, the crush was dumb, super fucking dumb. Steve was a popular straight jock. But at least Eddie didn’t fall for one of his bullies. Sure, Hagan gave him a hard time just about every day, but Steve didn’t give him a word of it. He’d either just stand there with a bitchy look on his face (which Eddie often thought about when daydreaming in class… or other times), bored out of his mind, waiting for Tommy to finish, or, he’d be standing there with the girl he’d claimed that week and would either talk to or suck face with her. 

Eddie hated that last one. 

A lot of the time Eddie would zone out on Hagans ranting and stare oogily at Steve kissing whatever girl it was and imagine Steve would just push her away and storm over to Eddie and just… just fucking grab him and slam their lips together. It’d be like in the movies, you know? With… with some dramatic love song like Dream Weaver or some shit playing in the background, and there'd be cartoon hearts in Eddie’s eyes and stars floating around their heads. And maybe Steve would shove him up against the lockers and kiss him like it was the only thing he’d know how to do, and then they’d peel away and look at Tommy and just laugh at him - because Eddie can definitely see that Tommy’s feelings for Steve ran a little deeper than the best friendship he claimed it was. 

But that would never happen. 

Steve has never- and would never kiss Eddie, passionately or not. 

So now all he could do was stare.

He stared off at the basketball courts as Steve tried to steal the ball from Hargrove, watching the way his thick thighs moved in those tiny little shorts, the way his ass filled them out when he’d bend over, the way his biceps flexed when he’d managed to grab the ball and shoot, the way his hair would flop over his pretty eyes before it’d get swept back by his large hand that Eddie has also thought about… a lot. 

When Hargrove shoved at Steve's chest (like a good damned toddler who didn’t get their way) so hard he went skidding to the ground, Eddie had to fight the urge to just run over there and punch Billy’s lights out - though, if he were to do that it could be justified with about a million other reasons, but he wasn’t looking for another detention right now - and cradle Steve in his arms. To check if he was okay. To kiss all the parts that hurt. 

Lord, Eddie was so far gone over nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

He sucked on his cigarette and celebrated quietly to himself when Steve got back to his feet and shoved his shoulder aggressively into Billy’s before running to get the ball. He watched them fight over it again, and couldn’t help his smile as Steve made one of those goal things. You know… the one that’s made from the middle of the court. The big one. He couldn’t help the little blush in his cheeks as he watched Steve do a little happy dance, the wriggle of his hips as he shook his fists like he was holding maracas. Billy was not happy, and that seemed to make Steve even more proud. 

It made Eddie proud. 

Jesus. 

Why was he so set on this asshole? 

Why couldn’t he like someone a little more in his own league? I mean, he still probably wouldn’t get them then either, but he’d at least have a chance. 

You know the worst part about this is Steve's tendency to be a little bit of a whore. Because like, he gets around. Skull Rock - that was once Eddie’s escape and eventually smoking spot - was only deemed the ‘hookup spot’ after Steve took multiple girls there within the span of a month. So, like, Eddie has to see him with girl after girl after girl every week, and know that he’d never be one of those girls. 

He was a little ashamed to know that he’d spent a good few nights crying himself to sleep over it. 

It was hopeless, this crush. It was helpless too. Steve was beautiful. The most handsome man Eddie had ever seen, and always had been, and yeah he was an asshole - so was Eddie - but he wasn’t a cunt. 

Eddie didn’t understand why it stuck around so long. 

He sighed and sucked on his cigarette again, blowing the smoke out as he smiled at Steve's little happy dance one more time. Right as he was crushing the butt of his cig with his sneaker, Steve turned his head and looked at him. 

The smile that still lingered on Eddie’s lips dropped in an instant, and he swallowed the lump in his throat and ground his sneaker into his cigarette one more time so Steve would know he was out here for a smoke and not to perv… even though he definitely was.

Steve flashed him a small smile, the smile that he flashed teachers or past hookups or casual friends or just people he knew in the halls, and nodded his head once as a sort of ‘hey’, his hands perched on his hips as it was happening, his hair flopping back down over his eyes. He flicked his head back to clear his vision again, and then he turned back to Billy without so much of a second thought and crouched into ready position to get the ball again. 

Oh. 

That’s why. That’s why Eddie’s crush had never ended. 

Because every so often Steve would give him one of those ‘I know you, hey’ nods, or a tight lined ‘I just realised I was walking past someone I know’ smiles, and Eddie would melt. 

Eddie would melt so much because no one with Steves status would give those to Eddie. And he knew he was scraping for crumbs right now but that… oh, he recognised Eddie and he said hey, and- Oh, fuck! Eddie didn’t do it back… again. 

Jesus, he never fucking does. Always too distracted by Steve’s pretty features and the fact that he noticed him. 

Maybe Steve did notice him, sometimes.

Eddie just wished Steve would see him too. 

**

super late submission but whatever :) it's in before it's over and that's all that matters to me rn lol.

read Day Two here

\/ a dodgy art piece for this one \/

#steddie week 2023 #jay writes #Day One #steddie #steddie angst #eddie munson #steve harrington #angst #pining #hunger #somebody to love by queen #eddie munson pov #season 2 #stranger things 4 #stranger things