#But I don’t see the size difference between Steve and Eddie like just look at the next to each other there’s not a big difference there

[plistommy]

My biggest pet peeves are when Steve is made to be this big beefy guy when he got little bit more muscular or when when Eddie is made to be smaller when those two guys are the same height and literally pretty much the same size like WHAT size difference?? :(

[justmeinadaze]

You're Cute When You Scream (Steddie X Plus Size Y/N)

Part 2 of Bite To Break The Skin

A/N: This started one way and then flowed into another. I guess even with angst I can't not have plot lol I have an idea how I want this to go and am enjoying the toxic mixed with the potential for growth.

Warnings: Vampire Steddie & Human Fem Plus Size Y/N, SMUT, dirty talk, degrading, spanking, light choking, tied to bed, overstimulation, toys, biting (vamp style blood draining), aftercare.

ANGST! Jealous Toxic Steddie abound, threaten to make her "regret it" if another boy touches her, Steddie causes a car accident, reader gets hurt but they heal her, boys hurt someone (brief), mentions of some unsavory behavior against the boys in Hawkins Lab, mentions of dehydration (boys do take care of her), I think that's it. Oh! Cliffhanger ending (cause Im me :P).

Word Count: 6341

The next morning felt like you were waking up from a long coma. 

The world seemed brighter and more in tune as you took in your surroundings. Nothing seemed a miss except for the pink rose beside your bed…

And the soreness between your legs. 

You winced the moment your limbs swung to get off your mattress and you quickly waddled to your full-length mirror to take in your slightly bruised skin, fingers trailing along the darkening fingerprints around your wrists to your thighs. Your hips had the most markings and as you continued to stare at yourself…you couldn’t help but smile.

***

“Why are you being weird?”, your friend asked as you continued to ignore her while you two walked around downtown Hawkins. 

“Define weird.”

“I don’t know! It’s just your whole vibe seems different.”

“I don’t know what that means.”, you giggle as you pause when you no longer feel her at your side. “What?”

“What, what? I said I needed to return a movie and grab a new one. You really are in your own world today aren’t you?” As she confidently began to stride towards the front door of Family Video, your eyes widen as you hissed her name and ran after her.  “What?! Jesus Christ, Y/N, why are acting so insane—?”

“Welcome to Family Video. My name is Steve…”, the man interrupted as he leaned his elbow on top of the shelf beside him and smirked your way. “Please let me know if you need anything.”

Looking at him now, you would never be able to tell that this was the same man who was pale and agitated just a week ago. There was color in his face and his hair was styled the way you always remembered it growing up. He seemed stronger as he stood upright instead of hunched over in what appeared to be pain. Even his tone had less of a shake to it. 

Last night he and Eddie seemed to be headed in that direction again before they bit into you, draining your blood. When they entered your room they seemed almost needy but seeing Steve now, he appeared calm which was oddly more intimidating as his honey eyes continued to rake across your body. 

“Thank you.”, you whisper as you grab your friend’s arm and start to walk away. 

“My pleasure.”, he answers in that sultry husk that has you biting your bottom lip.

“Ok, so what movie a-are you looking for, Mandy?”

Your friend takes in your erratic demeaner before her eyes expand and she hits your arm with her fist. 

“Oh my God! You fucked someone didn’t you!” As you try to cover her mouth, she giggles almost uncontrollably. “You have to tell me everything.”

“It was fine ok? Exactly like in the movies.”, you answer sarcastically and she rolls her eyes. 

Unbeknown to her on the opposite side of the aisle, Steve came around with a stack full of VHSs in his hand and began putting them away. 

“Liar! So that’s why you’ve been walking a bit slower.”, she grins as you cover your face when you notice the boy behind her do the same. “Come on. I’m your best friend in the world and you know I won’t tell anyone—”

“Except the entire store apparently.”

“Oh my GOD!”, she grunts in frustration. “Fine. Just tell me this… was it Garrett?”

“No. Who?”, you ask genuinely confused. 

“Garrett. The boy in your math class that you’ve been swooning over for like a year.”

“That YOU say I’ve been swooning over. I’ve barely talked to him—”

“Well, he definitely has a crush on you.”

You heard it first. 

Maybe you were just more attune to it after everything that happened but when Steve growled you immediately stood at attention but your head strong friend turned around to glance around him. 

“Jesus Christ. Did someone let an animal in here?”

####################

 For your morning classes you were surprised Eddie wasn’t there but what surprised you even more was how disappointed that made you. You dreamt about both of them and were desperate to at least see one of their faces. 

At lunch, you sat on the stage in the cafeteria, absently sketching before a grunt caught your attention and you turned your head just in time to see the metalhead sitting beside you. 

Just like Steve he seemed visually so much healthier but there was this air around him that would tell normal people to tread carefully. Silently, he popped open your water bottle he had flung across the hall that one day you thought he was dehydrated and took a long gulp as he tipped his head back. 

“I thought…you said it made you sick last time.”, you murmured his way as he burped obnoxiously and patted his chest with his palm. 

“The water did, yes. There’s something different in here this time. Would you like a taste?” As he tilted the open bottle towards you, you gagged at the strong metallic smell making him grin devilishly as he closed the lid. “Stole this particular brand from packets in the hospital. Not as fun as my preferred way but it keeps me from falling over or getting jumped again.”

“You…you stole blood from Hawkins General?”

“Would you rather I steal it from you?”, he snapped before sighing and shaking his head. “You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you? We need this bullshit to live and I refuse to go back to that sick…fucking weak…state I was in.”

“I didn’t think you were weak.”

At your mumbled words, his eyes take in your slightly folded in frame as you continue to look anywhere else that isn’t him. 

“That’s because you can’t tell the difference.” That grabs your attention as your irises lock with his beautiful chocolate ones. “I mean even right now you’re weak. Look at you sitting here alone while you draw life instead of living it.”

“Oh? What should I do then, hm? Fucking break into someone else’s house, scare the shit out of them and then fuck them? Will that put me on your level?”

“You say that like any of that is what actually fucking happened. Like you didn’t like being scared and used by us.”

You huff in frustration and the metalhead can’t help but grin cockily at getting a rise out of you. Honestly, seeing any reaction that wasn’t meek was making him want to take you right there on that stage in front of the entire lunchroom. 

“I’m not weak, Eddie. You and Steve have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“You’re right because we don’t care. That’s what men like Garrett Solis are for.”

You blink at the name silently thrown off guard but when it fully registers, your own smile paints your lips. 

“Oh, I see. Are you and Steve…jealous?”

“Jealous, no. Worried about his and your safety, yes.”

“Please! What would put him or me in any kind of fucking danger?”, you reply with defiance as you glare in the opposite direction.  

The humidity of Eddie’s breath warms your ear as he tilts towards you and murmurs softly, “You, Y/N.” A shaky exhale leaves your chest as your gaze shifts to the floor, watching out of the corner of your eye as he places his palm on your thigh. 

“We told you that you and your fucking pussy belong to us. That if you even dreamt of someone else we’d make you both regret it.”

“I-I-I thought you didn’t want to hurt anyone.”, you stutter as his grip tightens.

“Steve doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Or at least he didn’t. When he told me about what your friend said, he seemed much angrier than I’ve seen him before. Me on the other hand…”, he coos as his fingers drift higher up your jeans and his nose vaguely brushes your neck. “I don’t mind tearing anyone in this fucking town a part. They accused me of murder when I was innocent. Now I can give them what they want…Something theyshould be a-fucking-fraid of.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

You said it with so much confidence, he knew you weren’t lying and that made the former boy he used to be extremely happy. Eddie didn’t show it in his face but you saw it in his eyes as they remained glued to yours. Could that boy be reached or would he soon be forever lost within the creature the metalhead had become? Maybe he could be both but that was a fine line you had yet to navigate with either of them. 

“Touch him in any way, Y/N, and you will be. This is your one warning.”

And with that, he jumped down from the stage and sauntered away. 

###################

What Eddie said remained burned in your brain as you sat in the backseat of your best friend’s car while she giggled at the girl in her passenger seat. 

Not the whole threatening part but the being weak and not living life. You tended to only hang out with a couple of people on the weekend but usually spent a lot of time at home allowing your social battery to recharge after dealing with all the bullshit at school. Most of the meatheads were assholes and the bulk of the girls seemed solely focused on themselves. 

You seemed to get along better with teachers but especially your art teacher who constantly praised your work and offered insight into how you could grow as an artist. 

You remembered once seeing Steve Harrington go on dates with numerous women and wondered how he had all the energy. Nancy seemed to balance him out but for whatever reason chose to leave. After that you rarely saw him with anyone expect the younger kids that hung out with Eddie and Robin Buckley but they never seemed intimate in that way. 

The metalhead had gone on a couple of dates but, like you, unless he was with his friends, seemed to spend time alone playing his guitar or reading. 

“Hey, slut! What are you thinking about so hard back there?”, your friend laughs as she glances at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Don’t call me that, Mandy.”

“Oof, someone’s in a mood. I thought sex was supposed to like…relax you?”, another girl playfully teased making your eyes narrow at the driver.

“WHAT? You wouldn’t give me the details and I had to gush with someone about your victory.”

“Losing your virginity isn’t a victory.”

“Maybe if it sucks.”, a girl jokes causing all the girls to cackle. “Then again if you fuck a freak I’d imagine he’d be a little freaky in bed.”

“What are you talking about?”, Mandy asked.

“Oh, you don’t know?”

“Jessie, come on.”, you whine but of course she ignores you. 

“Our girl was seen talking to Eddie the freak murderer Munson on the assembly stage at lunch and he had his ringed fingers all OVER her.”

“Is that true, Y/N?”

“Was I talking to Eddie Munson, yes. Was he ‘all over me’, no.”

“Ok, then why did he have his hand on your thigh while whispering shit in your ear?”

Before you could answer, the car came to a stop and you hastily got out to head towards the house that a party was currently being raged in. Your best friend roughly grabbed your arm forcing you to stay as the other girls giggled and continued towards the front door. 

“Is that true? Were you talking to Eddie Munson?”

“Mandy—”

“Did you fuck him?”

“I…”

“Y/N, he murdered four people—”

“AMANDA!”, you shout causing a couple of people outside to turn their heads. “We were just talking about class, ok? We have a class together. I don’t know what Jessie thinks she fucking saw but all we did was talk.”

“Y/N, I’m serious. You need to stay away from him. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”

***

Grinning wide, you laughed at your friends as Amanda screeched when a boy she had been flirting with all night pushed her into the pool.

“Oh my God, Eric! You’re lucky I didn’t have my phone in my pocket!”

“You’re fine, you whiney baby.”, the boy jokes as he jumps in beside her. 

“May I sit with you?” At the sound of a soft voice, your gaze shifted to a smiling Garrett who was pointing at the empty seat beside the bench you were sitting on. “You can say no, of course.”

“Oh, um, no…I mean yeah…yes, you can have a seat.”, you stutter nervously making him laugh. 

“Thank you.”, he beams. “I’m not much of a swimmer I’m afraid. I wasn’t given the fish gene.”

“Wow…that was super cheesy.”, you tease. 

“It was. It really was.”, Garrett chuckles as he runs his fingers through his hair. “I can’t help it. When I’m talking to beautiful women I just lose all my cool points.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that danced across your lips before turning away to absently drink from your cup. 

“So…if you can’t swim why do you guys have a pool?”, you try to deflect and thankfully he accepts it. 

“Well, my parents and my brother can swim, obviously.”, he chuckles as he points towards the boy that was splashing around with your best friend. 

“And they didn’t teach you?”

“Pfft, my parents are barely ever home and my brother is always busy being himself.”, Garrett teases. “Did your parents teach you?”

“My mom did. My dad’s barely ever home to. He does consulting at Hawkins Lab sometimes—”

“Hey! No way! That’s where my parents work. My dad is a scientist and my mom is a corporate lady.”

Your eyes widen at the coincidence as you nod your head but a loud flapping noise above you startles you as you gasp and drop your cup. 

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”, the man asks as he glances up towards the sky where you were currently searching. 

“I…um…I should go home.”

“Wait but are you sure? The night it still young and—”

“I understand but, um, no I’m starting to feel nauseas and I should just…”

“Wait, wait, wait. At least let me drive you—”

“Garrett…I…no its ok. I can walk—”

“Please, I insist. After that whole serial killer thing and an earthquake it’s not safe for you to be out on the road at night.”

################

“Are you alright? You seem antsy.”

“I’m ok.”, you murmur as you continue to face the window. “I’m just tired, you know?”

“No I understand.”, Garrett replied a bit sullenly as the car came to a stop near a stop sign. “I hope I didn’t say anything to make you uncomfortable or—”

“No, Garrett, you didn’t. It’s just—”

“It’s just I really like you, Y/N. I’ve had a crush on you since like freshman year and after everything’s happened…seeing you tonight in that outfit…”

“My outfit?”, you giggle. “Honey, it’s a black skirt and t-shirt with Joan Jett on it.”

“I mean, to be fair, you look beautiful in everything.”, he compliments shyly as his palm reaches out to tenderly move some of your hair behind your ear. 

A car behind him honked loudly scaring you both as you jumped and placed your hand over your heart. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going!” He waves the guy off before making his turn. “Jesus, sweetie, and you were going to walk home? May as well be out in the middle of—”

It happens so fast. 

It was as if Garrett’s car hit an invisible wall.

Your seatbelts kept you secure as the vehicle rolled a couple of times before skidding to a stop. 

“Y/N…Y/N… fuck… are—are you alright?”

“I-I-I think so.”, you cried. “Are you?”

“Yeah. Shit, you’re bleeding. Let me see if I can—” You both hear it; slow footsteps crunching the glass underneath them with each step. “Is…is someone there?” White sneakers come into view and you recognize immediately who they belong to; you’ve drawn them multiple times. “H-H-Help her first. I think she—”

“Garrett!”, you hiss giving him pause. “Shut. Up. They aren’t here to help us.”

“They?”, he whispers before the loud creaking of the vehicle has you both screaming as it’s effortlessly flipped back over bringing you both face to face with Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson. 

“You have to be careful on dark roads in the middle of the night especially after you two have been drinking.”, Eddie says all too casually.

“We haven’t…I haven’t been—”

Steve’s angry eyes flashing his way silence the man beside you while the metalhead’s own irises remain locked with yours. 

“Those red cups at the party were full of water then?” The metalhead clicks his tongue as he tilts his head and begins to slowly stroll around the car. “Yeah, I don’t think so…I mean you’d have to have been drinking to allow him to touch you even after my warning.”

“What…I…what’s going on?”, Garrett asks as his voice shakes. 

You try to remain calm as Eddie continues to stalk closer to your side before finally coming to a stop just outside your window. His eyes are black like a predator in the water and your whole body shutters as they pan gradually down your face.

“Or did you just not believe me?”, he whispers as your breathing stutters. “Hm. I guess we need to be clearer.”

The driver’s side door screeches as its ripped off its handles and the driver himself follows as he’s forced out of his seat. 

“WAIT! PLEASE!”, you scream as you try to open your own door but collapse to the ground. 

Eddie effortlessly lifts you to your feet and drags you in front of the headlights where Steve was waiting. Your eyes fluttered at the pain in your head and you leaned against his chest for balance. 

“She…she needs a hospital…please! YOU CAN’T LET HER—” 

The pretty boy’s palm over his mouth silenced him as both men chuckled sinisterly. Cradling your head in his hands, Eddie tilted you away from him before his thick tongue collected the blood that had fallen down your cheek from your temple as your wound suddenly vanished. You couldn’t help the whimper of pleasure that escaped you as the pain immediately disappeared and you leaned your forehead against his jaw. 

“No, no, no, sweetheart. Hey, Steve and I need you to see this.”, he murmurs softly as he jostles you around till your eyes are facing the wide-eyed boy before you. “We would never let anything happen to her, Garrett, do you know why? She’s ours. Any man can talk to her till her heart is fucking content but this right here?”, Eddie says as his palms slide down your arms, over your breasts, along your plump tummy, and between your legs where his fingers pressed against your underwear. “This beautiful…delicious body…is ours.”

“And we don’t like people touching our things, Garrett.”, Steve growled as his palms gripped either side of the boy’s head.

“Wait! Wait! I can give you anything you want! My parents are rich! The make a lot of money and have a ton of pull not just in Hawkins but all over the globe!” His cries became louder as the former jock’s grip tightened. “I’m serious! Paul and Jackie Solis! They work at the lab on the hill!”

Steve’s eyes widen and you feel Eddie’s posture straighten. 

“Doing what?”, the metalhead asked. 

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me. What do your parents DO?!”, he snarled losing his patience. 

“My dad’s a scientist and my mother’s a corporate woman—”

“Have you ever heard them mention Project Sunlight? Has anyone ever come to your house mentioning that or anything about blood? ANSWER!!”, Steve screams causing the boy to jump.

“N-N-No. No…all I’ve ever heard them talk about is s-s-something involving black substances on the roof of some guy’s house…trailer… My m-mom helped relocate everyone in Forest Hills b-before the quake.” 

“You said your dad’s a scientist. What kind?”

“He’s a physicist.”

“Fuck. It’s all the same bullshit.”, Steve huffed. 

“I told you they gave up on us, Harrington. They didn’t care if we died. Hell, they were probably hoping for it.”

“M-M-Maybe Y/N can help. S-S-She said one of her parents consults at the lab—”

“GARRETT!”, you shout but even you know it’s too late. 

Both their heads slowly turn to look your way as their jaws clench. A few seconds pass before they exchange a glance and a wicked smile paints both their lips. 

“Thank you for that information, Garrett. Your services are no longer required.” And with that, Steve snaps the boy’s neck making you gasp. “You. Are your parents home?”

“My dad is a doctor to and I’ve never heard him talk about his work.”

Your answer causes both men to roll their eyes. 

“Punish her first and then look or look and then punish?”, Steve asks.

“Well, as much as I don’t care about getting caught, I want to be able to hear her scream without it drawing all of Hawkins assholes.”

“We can take her to my house. You know my parents aren’t fucking there and there isn’t a neighbor for miles.”

“Sounds like a plan, dude.”

You barely even have time to register their conversation before Eddie lifts you his arms and both men expand their wings to shoot off into the night sky. 

***

Your hands and body continue to shake even when the metalhead’s feet touch the ground. It took you a moment to realize you were at Steve Harrington’s home mostly because you had only ever seen it from the outside. 

When Eddie tossed you onto the man’s bed you took in the rather bland room around you except for some of the papers tacked on the wall near his desk. There were so many scribbled words you could barely make out but what surprised you was your painting that was leaning against the wall. 

Did he genuinely like your work? And why did that ignite a flutter of butterflies in your stomach?

“Since you, little girl, don’t know how to listen…”, the long-haired boy scolds before pushing you back against the bed and grabbing your wrists to bind them to the headboard. “…or since you don’t know what NO TOUCHING means… we’ll have to fucking make you understand.” 

Steve grabbed your ankles and tied each leg to the frame leaving you fully exposed for them to do whatever they wished. 

“He was at least right about one thing. You are beautiful in this outfit.” Your eyes widen in surprise at the fact that they even heard that conversation making the pretty boy chuckle. “I told you, honey, we are the shadows now.”

Abruptly, he rips off your shorts and panties in one go with his large palms eliciting a small whine from you at the action. 

“Alright, baby, don’t…move…”

You gasp as something cold is pressed to your thigh before the sound of duct tape echoes through the room and you feel it being wrapped around your thigh. Something clicks and you suddenly feel a vibration against your clit that has you kicking your legs to no avail. 

As soon as they get up, you realize that they had tapped a vibrating wand to your upper thigh and no matter how much movement you did, nothing would move it away from your bundle of nerves. 

“Alright, sweetheart, we’re going to give you about…what do you say, Steve?... An hour… for her to think about what she’s done.”

Your jaw drops at his words; an hour was so long.

“Wait, no, please. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll bet you are. Now we’ll be back in a bit and feel free to scream as loud as you want. I personally think it’s cute.”, Eddie teases before both men fly out the window.

##################

You weren’t sure exactly how much time passed but with every orgasm you did scream so loud you were surprised no one had found you yet. You constantly apologized even though no one was in the room with you but you knew they could somehow hear you. 

You knew.

As another orgasm began to build you vaguely heard the window open as feet pounded loudly onto the floor. A nose pressed to your temple and inhaled deeply as the constant flow of tears continued to streak your cheeks as your legs trembled while you release crashed over you like a wave. 

The vibration stopped as he removed the device and when Eddie spoke it was like hearing an angel.

“Can you smell that?”

“Her arousal? Yeah. And of course, I can still smell that fucking prick clinging to her body.”, Steve growled. 

“No, I mean besides that.” Again, he inhaled as his nose trailed along your throat to your chest. “Harrington, go get water. Now.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, Munson—”

“NOW.” The bass behind his voice was frightening and you couldn’t help but close your eyes in fear. “No, Y/N, keep your eyes open.”, he commanded, softly thanking his friend when he appeared suddenly with a glass of water. After freeing only your hands, Eddie sat you up and held the back of your neck as he brought the glass to your lips and you began to chug it back like you hadn’t had anything to drink in days.

Steve blinked as their eyes met and even he sniffed the air before running downstairs to grab more for you to drink. 

Once you were satisfied, you handed him his cup and leaned against the metalhead’s shoulder. 

“Thank you.”, you whispered, feeling oddly safe in this moment at this man’s side. “What did you smell?”

Eddie shrugged as he shook his head. 

“Something inside you… between the adrenaline, the sweat, the tears, and you coming…”

“You were dehydrated.”, Steve finished for him. 

“Oh…”

“You tried to give me water…”, was the only reply Eddie could give but it made sense to you. 

They were both still angry with you, you could feel that, but your act of kindness before everything that had followed still remained burned in their brains especially the metalhead who was constantly abused by a town and people who could care less about him and his wellbeing. 

“Don’t get cocky, Y/N.”, Eddie grumbled as he pushed you back against the mattress and bound your hands once more. “You still disobeyed us. We warned you what would happen.”

Steve removed his clothes and climbed up the length of your body making you groan as he rubbed his cock between your dripping folds, grazing your oversensitive clit with his shaft. 

“And this time, little girl, I’m coming on these perfect tits.”, he growled as his large palms kneaded one of your breasts. Your eyes rolled as he effortlessly guided himself into your entrance, stretching you out with every inch. “Fuck, man…still so fucking tight.”

Rolling his hips, Steve was slow and methodical as he thrust himself deeper into you. 

“He’s lucky we didn’t kill him sooner, Y/N.”, he whispered as his head fell beside yours. “Seeing you—fuck—get all shy at the store…fuck, baby…I wanted to take you right there again in front of e-everyone…but then she mentioned HIS name.” Fingers curled around your throat and squeeze as the pretty boy slammed his length aggressively into your cunt, abusing that sensitive spot inside you that you didn’t know existed till a few nights ago. “You let him…touch you…”

“I’m—mmugh—so sorry, Steve.”

“Sorry you got fucking caught maybe, you little whore.”

Your pussy clenched around him and you felt his smirk against your cheek as he bared his fangs before piercing your skin. Once again you felt a weird rush as the blood drained and his pace became almost animalistic. You desperately wanted to cling to him but with your limbs bound you whined as you tugged them praying they’d break. 

You screamed, not a scream of terror but intense need, and he grunted at the sound. You came hard and as your pussy quivered around him, Steve’s rhythm faltered as you felt him start to cum inside you before pulling out to pump the rest onto your chest. 

“Fuck! Fuck me, Eddie this pussy’s too good.”, he panted as he reached back to spank your thigh before licking the wound along your neck.

“Yeah it is. My turn.” 

The former jock climbed off you as the metalhead removed the restraints around your ankles so he could lift your legs and balance them against his chest.

“Who do you belong to, Y/N?”

“E-Eddie and Steve.”

“Who gets to touch your body?

“No…no one except you… I belong to you. Eddie, please.”

“I like hearing you beg.”, he chuckled, gripping his shaft in his hand and breaching your entrance before pulling all the way back out as his free palm held your legs together by the ankle. “You want my dick, little girl?”

“Yes.”, you cry as your back arches and your roll your hips desperate to feel him. “Please.”

Repeating the process, he pushes himself inside you before pulling all way out but as you huff in frustration Eddie spanks your ass hard. 

“Maybe you’ll remember this next time you flirt with someone—”

“N-No, Eddie! I swear I wasn’t—”

“Shut. Up.”, he growled as he tiled forward bringing your legs with him practically folding you in half. “We see you everywhere, Y/N. With your teacher after school, with Mandy Coleman watching a movie…”

This time when he guided himself inside you again, the metalhead thrusted with his purpose as he continued. 

“Home alone—fuck—having dinner at your table…in your bed while you sleep…”

The notion had a soft whimper leave you and Eddie laughed through his teeth. 

“You really are a freak, aren’t you, sweetheart? You like this…us appearing wherever you are…taking you whenever we want… Tell me then, baby, why do you fight it?”

“I-I-I don’t…”

Your answer seemed to infuriate him as his eyes darked and a loud grumble emitted from his throat. 

“Then why did you let him sit beside you at the party?”, he hissed as his pace and intensity began to quicken. “Why—mmph—did you lie?”

“I didn’t lie—”

“YES YOU DID! DO YOU THINK WE’RE PLAYING AROUND, Y/N!?”

Your eyes roll as the bed shakes and as Eddie pushes up onto his knees, his teeth bite into your calf as you scream so loud even Steve shoots forward to cover your mouth. Your legs tremble as you cum and he came off you with a syrupy pop to heal your wound. After dropping both your limbs, he tilts over you as he pounds his hips hard. 

“What we did to that little fucker, Y/N, is nothing compared to what we will do if we have to have this conversation again. Do you understand me?” Weakly, you nod as Steve lifts his palm out of the way. 

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper. 

“No, you’re not. Not even close. When I’m done using you we’re—shit—we’re going to ask you some questions. If you lie to me even once, Y/N, I swear to God—”

“I won’t…I won’t, I swear. Please, Eddie, just cum. I need to feel it.”

At your request, his head hung as his pace stuttered as he hastily pulled out and his release warmed your tummy. 

After a couple of minutes of heavy panting, Steve freed you from your binds and gave you more water as the long-haired boy appeared with a rag to clean you before tugging a clean shirt over your head. 

“Scoops Ahoy.”, you say matter-of-factly as your fingers glide along the material of Steve’s old uniform. 

“It’s the only thing I have at the moment that will fit you.”, he mumbles as he takes a seat in his desk chair. “I don’t mean that in like a derogatory way. I just haven’t been able to get or set aside clothes I know you’d be comfortable in.”

You smile at the brief bit of kindness that flows from his lips before Eddie steps forward with his arms folded to remind you that they weren’t finished with you just yet. 

“Did you know your dad was a hematologist, Y/N? Did you know he studies blood?”

“I knew he was a doctor but I didn’t know of what. He doesn’t talk about that stuff at home…when he decides to come home…”

“He doesn’t tell you anything at all?”, he asks incredulously.

“I’m an artist and my mom is a counselor. What reason would he have to talk about that stuff.”

“Where was he during the earthquake?”

“What does that have to—?”

“Because I fucking asked!”, Steve shouted. “Don’t let this calm interaction fool you, honey. We are much stronger and more unhinged than we were a few months ago. You and your family are lucky we haven’t just ripped you apart!”

Your eyes widen at his outburst as you try to overcome the fear to answer their question.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie—”

“I swear, Eddie, I’m not. W-When the earthquake hit my mom and were asleep. He said he had to work late that night and didn’t come home till a few hours after. We-We tried to drive to the lab but soldiers wouldn’t let us out of the neighborhood.”

“Do you believe her?”, the pretty boy asks and you sigh in relief when Eddie finally nods. “Your father isn’t at your house right now. Where is he?”

“Is that where you went? To my house?”, you ask with a shake in your tone. “Did you hurt my mom?!”

“SIT. DOWN.”, the metalhead bellows and you immediately listen. “No, we didn’t but we did go through your father’s office. Have you ever been in there?”

“No…he-he keeps it locked.”

“Hm. Well now you can know why.”, Steve replied with distain as he reached behind him before tossing a manila folder your way. 

Along the tab written in black marker were the words “Project Sunlight” and as you opened it you covered your mouth to hide the shock when pictures of Eddie and Steve were front and center. As you skimmed the writing, tears began to fall as you recognized your dad’s handwriting on every page you flipped through. 

“Steven Harrington-bit in abdomen by bat like creatures referred to as ‘demobats’.

Edward Munson- bites along cheek, pectorals, abdomen

Both have laceration scars around their necks, Mr. Munson has some as well around his wrists and ankles. Bite wounds healed but scars remain. 

With permission of Mr. Harrington, any other wounds seem to heal quickly. 

Scalpel (X)

Knife(X)

Razor (X)

Tasers (X)

Bullet(X)

Sunlight (able to be in it but in short bursts; too long and it hurts them (see experiment 329).

Mr. Munson woke up today, tried giving him regular food, threw up. (See experiments 490-530)

IV of blood seems to keep them alive but they still crave… 

Mrs. Y/L/N has managed to continue to make them believe that they can survive without blood as long as they ‘fight’. Advised to me both men wish to retain their ‘humanity’ even thought that seems gone.  If we can continue to make them believe taking a human life is to their detriment may avoid another Henry Creel situation. At least until we can figure how to kill them if we need to.

Chief Hopper and Wayne Munson negotiated to have both boys return to ‘normal life’. 

Lab approved so we can watch their progress.”

“I…I don’t…”

“You d-d-don’t…?”, Eddie mocked as he smacked the papers from your hands and searched through them till he found what he was looking for. “Experiment 501, fruit, 502, water, 503 sugar… Your dad and the other doctors snuck food into my body anyway they could making me so sick I genuinely thought I was gonna die.”

“Experiment 314, stabbing me multiple times with sharp objects while I was tied to chair.”, Steve growled. “The Mr. Harrington permission crap? Yeah, not me. My dad gave them permission before taking my mom and running out of town.”

“You want to know the best part, Y/N?”, the metalhead hissed like a snake as he bent down to your level with his hands on his knees. “No one…tried to comfort us… After every experiment they tortured us with…NO ONE told us everything would be alright or that soon it would all be over. Your mother was the closest to a calm voice we got and she told us constantly that these experiments were not only to help us but the people we loved…so we wouldn’t kill or hurt them. They made us believe we were monsters who needed to be subdued. That we needed to suffer just a bit longer till they found a cure.

They weren’t looking for a cure. They were studying us... and guess what, baby girl? We aren’t alone.”

Eddie handed you another sheet of paper with notes your father had taken scribbled on a piece of paper with the hospital’s insignia at the top. 

“Y/N Y/L/N—puncture wounds in neck; assailant unknown

Symptoms—lightheaded, dizzy, fatigue, nausea, fainting, soreness at site of wound

I haven’t seen either Munson or Harrington nor has my daughter subject mentioned any interactions them. Will follow progress. 

48hrs later wound on neck and pain completely gone

How??

Watched her eat human food with no similar side effects as the others. 

Wife and I need to speak with the head of the lab outside of town to see what protocol we should follow or if we should be safe and bring subject in for additional testing.”

“I guess they decided you were fine…or maybe he’s still studying… So I ask again, Y/N, where is your father?”

Feeling overwhelmed, the tears fully begin to fall as you struggle to catch your breath.

Descending onto your knees, Eddie catches you right as you throw your head back and scream.

###############

@debkk16 @myherometalhead @veemoon @hardladyheart @moonlightseranade @iloveyou987123 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

[clown420cunt]

Molly - Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summery: After the gang try out some of Eddie’s new inventory, the afternoon turn into something more then just excited chatting and familiar company.

Warnings: drug use! Please do not read this if the topic is triggering.

Tags: Eddie x fem!reader, one time use of y/n, plus size coded reader, drug use (weed and molly, Be responsible!), friends to lovers, nicknames, aphrodisiac, smut, oral!female receiving, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, p in v sex(wrap it before you tap it), cream pie, reader is kinda a pillow princess.

Masterlist

Not beta read.

Word count: 3,8k

Minors!DNI

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See, taking Molly with your close friends seamed like a fun idea until robin was freaking out about drinking the tall glass of water in front of her.

“But what if we die and no one ever finds our bodies!” Her ramblings not stopping even when Steve and Eddie try to tell her that that it isn’t gonna happen.

(Y/n) steps into the kitchen going to the fridge and pulled out 4 bottles of water.

“Robin you don’t have to worry, just drink a shit ton of water and you’ll be fine” she puts a bottle in front of everyone.

“I’ve done this before, is gonna be fun!”

She takes her spiked glass of water and downs it.

“30 minutes and we’ll be flying”

She grabs her bottle if water and moves towards the living room before turning around and saying “I also got gum so we don’t chew our cheeks”.

Robin locked eyes with Steve before the both of them decide that this was it and downed their own glasses as well.

Following behind her into the adjacent room.

—————————————————————

And here he is, one moment Eddie was sitting and staring at robin and Steve, trying to decipher the words coming out of their mouths.

One continuous speech of words exchanged from one to the other, seemingly with no start or end to it.

Just two people in their own bubble.

And the next moment a soft weight was sat in his lap taking up his full attention.

“Eddie I love you so much! You’re so fun to be around and you’re so passionate about things you like and I think it’s so cute!” A new mountain of words are taking up his ears and it takes a second for him to register the meaning for the words coming from the girl just sat in his lap.

A dope smile settles on his face, dilated eyes shift to her face to stair into another pair of just as round pupils.

“Really?” The girl nods her head fast up and down not breaking eye contact.

“Really, really” she grabs his face between the palms of her hands, fingers speed around his jaw and ears. The organ slotting perfectly In between her pointer and middle finger.

“Your face so soft and warm” she squeezes his cheeks lightly before moving her palms in tiny circles, catching on the new hair growth starting to emerge from his last shave.

A smile mimicking his own starting to take place on her face as well.

His smile seemed to get bigger with her answer. Eyes closeting for a second to take in the new sensation on his skin. Warm soft palms and delicate fingers teasing into his hair, temping to scratch at his scalp.

She releases his head to grab one of his hands.

sliding her hand into his bigger ones, slotting her fingers beside his.

He’s soft palm resting with hers in her lap.

He opens his eyes again to look at the connection. Inspecting the size difference and the way her hand fits perfectly in his hold.

His other hand lifts from where it was placed on the armrest to place it self on her waist.

“Your hands are so small” the words seem to spill out of his mouth before they popped into his mind.

She turns her gaze from his face to their connected hands.

“Oh my god! They’re tiny!” She shifted in her seat in his lap, turning her knees closer to Eddies waist and twisting her upper body at an uncomfortable angle.

She stands up, his hand falling back onto the armrest of the couch he was sitting on.

“Can I sit here like this” she moves her hands in a straight line from her sides to his.

Eddie just nods “yeah sure” not really understanding the arm movements.

She sets one leg and plush thigh on either side of Eddie, resorting in him having to move a bit away from the armrest to make room.

Eddie places his hand on the meat of her thighs, the squishy supple flesh laying against his palms now.

A involuntary squeeze and he can’t seem to stop him self from roaming the uncharted sea of long sensual touching.

Finally settling she rest her arms on he’s biceps.

His muscles twitching as she runs them down the sleeve of his t-shirt and up into it.

Sending electricity up into his brain and down to his fingertips.

“You’re so warm” she gives him a squeeze. “I am?” Eyes shifting to where her hand is placed on his left arm.

“Yes! Is really nice” a breathy tone entering her voice, her forehead falling to his shoulder.

He moves his hands up and down her thighs taking in the feeling of her denim pants running along his ruff skin.

She site straight up again, removing her hands from under his sleeves to retract them into her own T-shirt sleeves and onto her back.

Fumbling around with something Eddie is not totally sure about.

She finds what she’s looking for and a sigh escapes her lips.

“That is so much better” she scrambles with trying to slide something down her arms and pushes it out the bottom of her shirt discarding the burgundy bra on the side and sliding onto the floor.

Moving her hands out of the sleeves again and back up to remove the tension from her shoulders, touching the now free mounds from on top of the shirt.

“That thing was killing me” gently squeezing and moving the imprisoned flesh, the subtle movement that resembled the ocean waves making his stare in a trance like state.

“Do you want to touch they’re so soft” she’s looking at him with these big doll like eyes, glassy and blown out, the black of her pupil nearly covering her natural eye colour.

Eddies hands are moving, her hands guiding his up and onto the softest sensation he’s ever touched.

His movement was instant, squeezing the soft flesh, holding the two softest pillows he’s ever had his hands upon.

The weight heavy but welcome.

Eddie leans forward, his forehead touching her collarbone.

“This is the softest thing I’ve ever…” his voice is mumbled against her but she hears him all the same.

Her hands are placed in his hair touching and running her finders though the curly brown locks.

Then going to the top of his scalp and pressing her fingertips into his flesh.

A new sensation washing over him, a tinkle runing along his spine.

She pushes him closer to her, his face being planted down into her chest.

The soft globes engulfing Eddie in the safe cocoon of her scent.

She’s placing a kiss on top of his head and he shifts his gaze up again, starting into her calm, blown out orbs.

She continues to kiss his face, down his forehead onto his cheeks and onto the tip of his nose.

The pillowy kisses for her lips are a welcoming feeling and Eddie doesn’t have to think before he’s leaning in to catch her lips with his when she stoped to look at him.

“Is this okay?” She breaks the kiss before they can get lost in the sensations of each other.

He places his nose against her cheek, running it down her face to place kisses against her jawline.

“More than okay” he mumbles along his journey along her jawbone.

A hand is placed on his face again, her right hand guiding his lips back to hers, breathing in the tenderness of scents, bumping of noses and locking of plump lips.

He opens his mouth just enough for his toung to run along her soft lower lip.

Theres a quick reaction from her when one of his hands runs from a breast to her ass.

A squeeze making her part her lips so he can explore the inside of her soft round cheeks.

She lifts her arms setting them on the back of his back and in his hair, gripping into the full strands on his head.

A finger runs along her nippel and goosebumps break out over her stomach and back making their way down her arms and legs.

A soft moan is pulled when she breaks the kiss, three pecks are planted up his face which is descending down to her neck looking for where she’s most sensitive.

A breathy voice rings in his ears “You wanna go find the guest room?”

His mind creeps back in to register what’s being asked of him.

The kiss breaks, his tongue running up the tendon of her neck up to her ear.

His eyes locking onto robin and Steve still in deep conversation, totally oblivious to theory two friends on the couch right in front of them.

His own blissed out voice comes to he’s ears when he speaks out again her ear.

“Show the way, sweetheart”

She gets up from his lap and stretches her hand out to him.

Placing his hand in hers and rising from the couch, doesn’t disturb the other two idiots.

A soft voice sounding like sweet music in his ears flow into the open room.

“We’ll be right back” no movement or acknowledgement come from their two sitting on the couch in front of them.

With nothing else in the way they move hand in hand out of the living room and upstairs to the guest bedroom set up for tonight.

———————————————————————

It’s hard to walk with him stuck to her side like a koala.

Big hands grappling and touching all along her upper body, up to her neck and back down to her ass.

A handful of cheek in his hand.

Slightly chapped but soft lips sucking a bruise below her ear when they end up against the door.

Trying to get the doorknob to work with the movement and the denial of eyesight.

There’s a click and the solid form behind them moves, kiss broken to make room for not falling on the floor, they make their way in and closes the door on they way.

The first think to go is her shirt, the old worn fabric of a T-shirt is discarded onto the floor.

Hands making contact with flush skin and a sigh making its way out catching ear drums and bouncing off the walls.

Eddies hands make their way up the exposed skin.

Grabbing, squeezing, touching and running up the path of her stomach and waist.

One hand settling on her chest while the other runs up her shoulder blade and holds her closer.

Lips smashing against hers before making their way down to her neck again.

Licking, kissing and biting down and into where her shoulder and neck meet.

Soft breaths and small moans escaping her mouth, as she grasp his waist and arm when her legs turn to jelly.

Her hands run down the expanse of his chest to settle at the bottom of his shirt.

Slightly the fabric upwards to discard the offending garment.

Eddie disconnects from her throat, shirt tuning over his head.

Eyes setting on the small and bigger bruising forming onto the sensitive flesh.

She pulled him into a headed kiss again, he’s quick to take charge.

Moving tongues and lips in synchronised motion.

Hands creep down from necks and supply open buttons and sippers.

Pushing denim down the expanse to plush thighs and round shapes, settling against hardwood floors.

Another pair of pants quickly follow, a sound of metal on hardwood joins the wet sounds of lips fighting and tongues meeting.

Pressing his body against hers is a feeling Eddie never wants to end.

Warm, soft flesh slotting against his tall frame.

Hands gripping thighs and running along chest hair and sensitive nipple piercings.

The kiss breaks and eyes shift down to his chest, a thumb running over the jewellery and making him shutter, sucking in short breaths and kissing his teeth in the process.

Eyes running along the expanse of his chest, down to his bellybutton and following the trail of hair presenting a tent of blue checkered fabric.

Top of her tongue peeking out from her lips, wetting them in the process.

Finger tips edging to run along the edge of his boxers.

His hand catching her wrist before she can do anything “not yet”.

Guiding her backwards until the back of her knees touch the bed and she’s placed on to the light green comforter.

Eddies fingertips brushes over her sides and ghost over the sensitive skin of her lower stomach.

Fingers hooking in the elastic of the comfortable cotton panties

He tucks down, guiding her to lift her hips off of the madras so he can get the fabric over the curve of her ass.

Plush flesh flexing when the muscles in her thighs and butt move into action.

The soft pull of fabric is moved from her ankle and suffering the same fade of all the other items on the floor.

“Slide back would you, sweetheart?” His soft candied voice can de heard making her brain fuzzy.

Her body moving before she can really register what could be happening.

He climbeds after her settling between her legs, hands running up over her skin and gripping her chest.

Skin soft and plush slipping between his fingers and creating small curves I the spaces.

A hot breath and wet tongue catching her attention, a sensation that makes her brain turn off and a moan makes a way past her lips.

“God you are so beautiful, I could get lost in you forever” the hot muscle comes in contact with the pebbled knob again this time lips follow, sucking onto the pink flesh.

She wiggles when his teeth grace the sensitive circle.

Nipping at it before moving to the other one to give it the same attention.

Course fingers make a move south and settle in the soft curls on her mound.

Fingers dipping down to run along the opening of her plush lips, before dipping into her feeling the slick hiding between her thighs.

“Is all this for me?” He breathed against her breast, a lick following the question.

A squeak and a shuttering breath follow.

Fingers dipping deeper and running up to touch her clit, curling it a couple of times and pulling away.

He shift, moving off of her and a whine follows.

“Shh, baby” he goes back to kiss her, one hand holding him up the other falling to her thigh and lifting it up to her stomach, before breaking contact with her lips and moving his whole body lower.

“I’m not going anywhere” his other hand is placed on her ass and slither up her other thigh placing it in the same position as the other and spreading her open for him to see.

He locked eyes with her glistening hole, small needy twitches catch his eye and makes it impossible to look away.

“So wet, sweetheart” he licks his lips.

“What did I do to deserve such a good girl” another pucker catches his eye and a whimper follows.

Without breaking eye contact with her weeping hole he descents.

Licking a strip up her lips before settling onto her most needy pebble.

First licking and then sucking over the sensitive button.

A moan spurs him on twirling his wet muscle over her again and again.

Moving a hand down her thigh and teasing at her entrance.

Going circles around before inserting one finger and then two.

A broken breath and a loud moan can be heard after.

A hand snaking into his hair gripping tight to the scalp making him groan and trust into the comforter creating friction against his underwear.

Fingers moving in a ‘come here’ motion starts the tinkly sensation.

Hips riding up and grinding on his face following his fingers and tongues moments.

Holding her down makes her whine out loud, a squeaky sound in the hot room.

His teeth catch on her clit and sends a jolt of pleasure through her.

A guttural moan following.

Her walls spasming around his digits when he does it again, fingers catching the soft spongy spot inside.

“I’m gonna cum” three sweet words fall from her lips followed by another moan.

He keeps his fingers pace and continues to nibble at her clit, small electric shocks building into pressure in her gut directly connected to her sweet release.

Eddie continues the motion, her body locking up and walls squeezing his fingers so tight.

No air enters her lungs as a second release comes with a push of her walls liquid release as the over stimulation turns into another orgasm.

Making her squirt as he lick her clit.

Broken sounds escape har agape lips, cut off screams and moans having no way to form with the lack of air entering her system.

Her legs are shaking when he removes himself from her.

Legs falling to her sides as she tries to catch her breath.

Eddie moves up to kiss her, rock hard member catching on the crook of where her thigh meets her torso and a groan falls from his lips.

“You did so good for me sweetheart, squirting all over my face. Such a dirty girl”

Her brain like mush struggling to comprehend the words falling from his lips.

He kisses her again lips opening so she can taste herself in his kiss. Wet chin and mouth transferring her juices onto her face in the process.

“Want you Eddie, want you so bad” she breaths in between connected lips.

He growls into the kiss as he runts into her stomach.

Breaking the kiss, he mover to discard his last layer.

His dick springing free from its confines and standing tall against his stomach.

Pre-cum pebbling and catching the light in the room making the head shiny and inviting.

His hand moves to grab his throbbing member.

Giving it a few pumps before moving to climb on top of her again.

Grinding against her wet entrance, catching her clit with his head and the sweet sensation of lightning running up her spine doesn’t prepare her for the delicious stretch from his cock.

A gasp and wide eyed expression makes Eddies attention run from the image of his dick disappearing in between her soaking walls and up to her blissed out face.

Pulling back out that thrusting in again he keeps his eyes on her beautiful face.

High from a combination of drugs and two orgasms clearly giving her an out of body experience when Eddie once again thrust into her.

Hearing her breath hitch and eyes flutter from every touch.

Picking up speed, the sound bodies slapping together would be able to be heard through the wooden door if you passed by.

Broken moans, groans and screams sprinkled in.

Thighs back against her stomach, body folded in half, hands on thighs and behind knees is the position the pressure builds again.

Ruff thrusts sending the frame of the bed against the wall creating a steady rhythm of thumbs.

Her eyes roll into the back of her head body and mind only focusing to the man on top of her.

Fucked stupid, no thoughts running through her head, not even able to form any.

Breath hitching every time his dick hits her sweet spot sending tremors through her body.

Eddies mind is only on her, eyes following her every move, ears only hearing the sounds she gives up.

High pitch whines and small short screams fall from her lips, her legs start to tremble and shake and he releases one of her legs to move the pad of his thumb over her aroused clit.

The tight but soft circular motion sends her over the edge.

Loud whiny screams tumble through her lips as her trembling core tighten and try to push him out of her.

The sensation nearly sends Eddie over the edge, making him stop short in his thrusts.

He doesn’t want this to be over yet.

The all consuming sensation of her everything making him strive for more in his elevated state of body and mind.

She stretches her legs out, the tinkling sensation of blood flowing back into the limbs.

The new position makes Eddie lean over her and place her arms around his sweaty neck.

“Hold tight” and without pulling out he sits her up into his lap adjusting her in to a comfortable position.

Shallow thrust start up again, her legs folded behind his back and arms holding onto him for dear life.

She rocks with him using her thigh muscles to guide and grind herself down on his dick.

“You feel so good, suck a good girl riding me” Eddie holds her tight.

“Gonna let me come is this position sweetheart? Gonna let me cover these walls with my cum. Hmm?”

A moan falls from his lips when her walls clamp down at the words, body reacting to the filthy words coming from his mouth.

The sounds she’s making and the flutter of her used hole is a tell tail sign and he can’t stop him self this time.

Thick white cum fills her up, while Eddie continues to thrust through his orgasm, sending her over the edge.

Biting down into Eddies shoulder makes him moan out loud at the sting feeling.

Muffling the sound of her screams while they ride out the last blissful moments.

The only sound in the room is heavy breathing.

She can feel his cum leaking out of her and down the curve of her ass, his softening member no longer making sure it stays put.

“You okay?” He asked after getting enough air and blood back into his brain.

“Y.. yeah” her voice breaks with the word.

“I’m gonna lay you down on the bed, okay?”

“Okay..”

He leans forward, having her upper body fall onto the bed and moving his feet from under her ass.

Admiring the way har beasts move up and down with each breath she takes.

Eddie gets up from the bed stumbling in the process.

Leg muscles screaming out for him to sit back down but continues to carry him as he moves to put on his underwear and a shirt.

Glancing over he watches her for a second to make sure she’s okay before moving to the door to go get them both at big glass of water.

Walking by the living room he can still see Robin and Steve talking but they’ve changed position now both laying upside down on the sofa heads not visible because of the table in front.

Eddie completes his mission of water and returns to her lying on her side.

She’s facing the door waiting for him half asleep.

He makes her drink the whole glass before helping her into her T-shirt and panties for a visit to the toilet making sure she can take care of herself.

The room is hot and smells of sex, he opens a window to let some fresh air in and grab his pre rolled joints for at slow descending calm down.

Returning to the living room with her and stepping into the backyard.

“You know.. I love you too”

———————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed my first ever attempt at writing smut 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 this is kind of anxiety provoking ngl, so please be kind to me 😖

Let me know what you think!

I will also be posting this to AO3!

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Taglist: @paleidiot

[abibliophobiaa]

Gone Fishing: And Baby Makes Three…

this was originally a request from my dear friend Katie (but tumblr ate it, so it no longer exists) and it spiraled into a short little mini series (tagged on my masterlist). just sweet little blurbs when i get a request or the mood strikes.

original prompt: eddie tells wayne he’s going to be a grandpa.

warnings/tags: r is pregnant; mentions of pregnancy and related symptoms; dad!eddie munson x afab!fem!reader. (2k words)

-

Eddie had come home from work one day and found you sitting in the kitchen with Steve and Nancy’s newest little one. A wrinkly faced newborn with Steve’s dark head of hair and Nancy’s eyes. And when Steve had handed that baby to Eddie, your eyes had softened in a way he’d never seen before.

He supposed it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when later that night you'd asked him if he wanted to try for one of your own. And it wasn’t like he’d been opposed to the idea—he’d married you with the intention of starting a family some day.

In all honesty, the trying to get pregnant part…well, that had been fun. He’d just anticipated a little bit of time between deciding to start trying and getting pregnant. But two months later, you’d come home from the doctor with a photo in hand of his affectionately named “little gummy bear.”

It hadn’t looked like much at the time. A tiny little blob with wriggly limbs, if he was being honest with himself. But you’d cried when you held the grainy picture in front of him, and he’d cried too, holding you on his lap at the kitchen table.

Soon enough, another month passed and you were far enough along you felt comfortable enough to tell those around you your exciting news. Naturally, you suggested the two of you tell Wayne first. It felt right to do so, you told him, and he’d agreed.

You were glowing and beautiful, like Nancy had mentioned people said happened during pregnancy one day over dinner, but not your fullest self. Most mornings Eddie felt the bed dip as the sun rose in the sky, and joined you with a hand to comfort in any way possible when you rushed to the bathroom. Whether it was a warm palm sliding up and down your back or the chill of his skin on your clammy cheek, he’d wanted to be there in whatever capacity you’d allow. He’d carry your struggles on his back if he was able to. You were doing all the work, after all. And he was grateful for it—grateful for you.

The evening you were meant to tell Wayne over dinner, you’d been sick since the morning—all day, really, and it pained him to see you like that. He watched you washing dishes in the kitchen while Wayne settled down in the living room with a freshly opened beer, feeling his heart double in size when your eyes lifted and met his.

You’d always been beautiful, but there was something different about you lately. Nancy said that the “glow” people often spoke of was from the endless hormones raging through your body. Some of which he’d become well-acquainted with these few weeks, because they made your emotions vary between happy and sad in a split second—often to his own detriment.

But he really thought they’d gotten it all wrong; he thought that the glow came from the way you were so in love, it manifested on the outside with no more space to contain itself. And if it made him pathetic to admit how in love with you he was, especially so as of late, he’d happily own up to it.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked, moving over to where you stood with your hips flush against the countertop, your head bent a little low as you scrubbed idly at a dirty plate. His fingers curled along the side of your cheek, turning your face so your eyes would meet his. His thumb tapped at your chin, your lips tugging upward weakly. “There you are. Why don’t you go lay down, hmm? I’ll take care of the rest of the dishes.”

“Eddie.” You placed the dish down in a drying rack and huffed out a slow breath.

“You were up at three in the morning—” He chuckled when you opened your mouth to protest and nudged your cheek with his nose, brushing a kiss there. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I still want you to tell Wayne. I think it’ll be nice for you two to share that memory,” you admitted softly, leaning into his shoulder, one arm wrapping loosely around his waist.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

You wrinkled your nose, grinning. “Only every day.”

He dropped his ringed fingers down to your sweater, sliding over your midsection, seeking the comfort of your warmth. You sighed against his neck, head tucking against his throat, and he murmured, “Please let me take care of the kitchen? I’ll feel ten times better if you go get some rest.”

It took a little bit more convincing, and a brush of lips against your brow with a muttered reassurance he’d take care of everything, before you retreated to your bedroom and closed the door behind you. Eddie worked in quick silence to finish up where you’d left off, calling over his shoulder to his Uncle that he’d just be a minute.

His Uncle leans back with a great sigh, hand waving unhurriedly in the air. “No rush, boy.”

And once he’d finished scrubbing the remnants of dinner off the final plate to tuck it away in the drying rack, he flounced over to the kitchen table where you’d wrapped a gift for his Uncle. He double checked the little card tucked in between sheets of tissue paper, pushed it to the front of the bag, and snatched the handles in his hand.

A crooked, lopsided smile crosses Wayne’s face that matches the one Eddie wore, eyes widening in curiosity at the gift dangling in his nephew’s hand. “It’s not my birthday, y’know,” he said, placing his beer down on the coffee table. Eddie leaned back on the couch beside him, nerves bubbling to life at what lay within. Wayne’s smile dropped, concern lining his features as he asked, “Is the little missy not feelin’ okay?”

Eddie sighed heavily. “Yeah, she’d been up this morning sick. I told her to go lay down,” he admitted, thumbing at his ring finger, twirling the yellow gold wedding band around and around in his nervousness. “Open the card first.”

“What are you doin’? More jittery than normal,” he chided, but slid his finger beneath the edge of the envelope all the same, opening the lip to reveal a Hallmark card. On the front was a golden trophy, with a banner stretched across reading ‘The World’s Greatest Pop Pop.’ His head turned to Eddie, the creases around his mouth deepening as he swallowed thickly and opened the card. The older man rubbed a hand over his mouth, throat clearing as his eyes reread the words on the card over and over again. “My boy. Are you tellin’ me I’m gonna be a grandpa? The Mrs. Munson is havin’ a baby?” At Eddie’s slow nod, Wayne barked out a disbelieving but excited laugh, pulling his nephew into a rough hug.

Eddie swallowed the knot forming in his throat. Exhaled deeply to keep the tears at bay. He’d been doing that a lot since finding out you were expecting; blubbered when you told him you were pregnant, then once more when he’d accompanied you for the next doctor’s appointment and saw the little thing for himself, and then once more when he’d heard the heartbeat for the first time.

“Finish opening your gift before you start getting all sappy and shit,” he teased, choking on his own emotions. Wayne slid out the grainy photo from the last ultrasound, thumb running along the tiny outline of the little one. Eddie grinned, leaning over to trail a finger along the form. “That’s from an earlier appointment. I can show you what they look like now. Less…alien-gummy bear hybrid, more…actual baby. With fingernails, the doctor said. Thought that was pretty cool.”

Wayne huffed out a watery laugh and fished out the pieces of tissue paper within the package. His mouth worked silently over the emotions riling in his gut as he lifted a hat within his palm and glanced at the words etched across the front. There at the top, was a fish with a reel swirling around in a loop, poised at its opened mouth. Then, in blocky lettering below, read ‘Reel Cool Pop Pop.’

When Wayne leaned back, his teary eyes scanned Eddie’s face, frown setting further into the wrinkle lines crowding his lips. “What’s wrong, boy? I can tell somethin’ is goin’ ‘round in that head of yours.” He knocked his weathered knuckles lightly against Eddie’s temple; Eddie nudged his head away, lips quirking with a smile despite himself. “C’mon now. Your brow’s wrinklin’ like your momma’s did when she used to worry.”

“I’m happy. Shit– I’m so excited, but I…” He paused, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. “I’m, ah, in a few months I’m gonna be a dad and I don’t know why, but the universe thinks I’m ready for that.”

“Listen, I know what you’re thinkin’. But I’m gonna tell you right now that you are not your old man. You’re a good man, Ed. Gave me hell for a few years, but I know you’re ready,” he said, lowering his head to where Eddie’s palms slid down his face, an exhausted sigh falling through the gaps between his fingers. “Got a good head on your shoulders and a big heart. Been a good husband to your wife, and I know you’ll make a fine dad. I’m proud of you. So very proud of you, son.”

Later that evening, when Eddie entered your shared bedroom with joy in his heart and excitement bubbling in his blood, you shifted up onto your elbow. You peered over at him with a wide grin across your pretty features. Asked, “What’s making you smile like that?”

Eddie’s grin widened, hand splaying over his heart like a love struck fool as he practically threw himself onto the bed, singing, “You're havin' my baby what a lovely way of sayin' how much you love me.”

The sleeves of your too-long sweater covered your face, body rolling away from him, mortified. “Edddds, no. Please no Paul Anka song again.”

His nose pressed into your cheek as his chin hooked over your shoulder. Lips smacked a loud kiss against your cheek, an amused chuckle spilling from his lips. “What? I’m a man madly in love with his wife. What’s wrong with that?”

Nothing. Nothing at all, so you shifted closer to him, back aligning with his chest as his arms wound tight around your waist. You let out a contented hum as his palm drifted along the waistband of your jeans and beneath the hem of your sweater, lingering over the secret growing beneath your heart. “I love you, too,” you whispered, hand affectionately grazing over the back of his. “Was Wayne happy?”

“Over the moon. Said he thinks it’s a boy.”

And seven months later, he’d be right.

Wayne entered that hospital with balloons in one hand and a teddy bear in another. His weathered face drew tight as he ducked into the room you’d been moved into to rest and recover, hand waving in greeting to where Eddie sat at your bedside with his newborn son cradled in the crook of his elbow. An infant boy with dark hair like his and the eyes of the woman he loved. Eddie leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, pride at what you’d done to bring your son into the world still glowing bright in his chest, and waved his uncle over. Watched as Wayne placed the gifts down onto the small couch pressed against the corner wall and drifted nearer to your bedside.

Eddie’s lips quirked into a bright smile as his uncle glanced down at the little blue bundle in his arms, before glancing up. “Congratulations, you two.”

Eddie glanced your way briefly to capture your glowing smile—to take in the way your eyes had never once left your son’s since his arrival on this side of earth, and then lifted to his uncle’s, your voice tired as you asked, “Wanna hold your grandson?”

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely, breaking off to clear his throat and inhale deeply. Eddie swapped places, climbing up from the makeshift rocking chair to allow Wayne to sit, before he leaned down and brushed a kiss against the baby’s head. Once his uncle situated himself, Eddie lowered the infant into his arms. “What did you two end up namin’ him?”

Your eyes flickered briefly to Eddie’s, head bobbing with a nod. Eddie brushed his thumb along his son’s cheek and said proudly, “James Aragorn Munson.”

James shifted in his grandfather’s arms. His head moved to seek out the shelter of his warmth—to seek out the love he’d already known in his short span of time in the outside world.

“Welcome, James.” Wayne moved his rough palm to the back of the baby’s head and shifted him on his lap so he lay stretched out before him. The older man admired those tired eyes that blearily gazed up at him with a tenderness that knocked the wind out of Eddie. James’ mouth opened in a little grunt, eyes closing once more in contentment, unknowing that he’d already stolen the hearts of the three watching him with rapt attention. “I’m your Pop Pop. We’ve been waitin’ for you.”

-

[writtenfromhawkins]

hoax - part two.

ship: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: as you had feared, your fake date changed the dynamic between you and steve. but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. 

word count: 2.7k

warnings: swearing, alcohol, princess bride spoilers (kind of? i don’t know, it’s been thirty years, watch the movie and then talk to me about it because it’s my favorite).

author’s note: it’s finally here! hope everyone enjoys it. @taylorsmylover​ @sllooney​ @cheerupbarry​

part one.

all's well that ends well to end up with you.

After Steve dropped you off at home, life went on. You worked, you studied, you spent time with your friends—including him. Nothing felt off per se, but there was a shift, a change in routine, a difference maybe not dramatic to you, but something the others definitely picked up on.

For movie night, your suggestion The Princess Bride lost handily. Despite that, though, Steve still showed up with a copy.

“Oh,” he’d said, almost sheepish, “this isn’t the one we agreed on? Sorry, guys.”

The two of you sat a little closer on the couch, whispered softer, and giggled more. He rolled his eyes and grumbled when you talked about how cute Cary Elwes was, you playfully smacked his bicep in response. It was a nice, quiet night, totally typical, so you couldn’t figure out why Robin looked so perplexed when you caught her eye from across the room.

Maybe if that had been it—just one weird night of affection—your friends could have left it alone, chalking it up to a lapse of judgment on your part. But it didn’t stop. Hugs went on for too long, and smiles lingered. Any time you passed, his hand somehow found the small of your back, guiding you by. Sure, Steve was known to be affectionate with you, boundaries long abandoned, so it wasn’t that weird. But the way you’d lean into each touch was a new development. Although not as alarming of one as Steve’s very recent lack of flirting.

Cute girl after cute girl passed through Family Video without receiving so much as a wink or a terribly delivered pick up and Robin was becoming increasingly concerned. If he wasn’t sick, and he wasn’t, he wasn’t whining enough for that, it meant something else was going on.

“Harrington,” she hissed one day, eyes wide, “that total babe was throwing herself at you. That, like, never happens.”

“Was she?” Steve’s bewilderment was genuine, he simply hadn’t noticed.

“Come on, you didn’t see that? I could feel the sexual tension from here.”

“Nope,” he answered, popping the ‘P’. “Guess she just wasn’t my type.”

But Robin knew better, he wasn’t exactly discerning; anyone with a pulse and boobies was his type. Something was up and, after conspiring—gossiping—with Eddie, she was determined to figure out what exactly it was.

—     

You’d probably never admit it, especially not unprompted, but Tuesday was your favorite day of the week. Sure, you were stuck at work for far too long—three doubles allowed you the freedom to study while also affording you the luxury of paying your bills—but it was also heavy metal night. Pickings were slim in a town the size of Hawkins and, as a result, Corroded Coffin got the chance to basically do a full set and you got to see your friends.

It became routine ever since Eddie joined your little group. You, of course, had no choice but to be in attendance. But Steve and Robin would come by too. Your regulars hadn’t been too receptive to the band—you’d been asked what is this ruckus? too many times to count—so, while none of you were exactly metal heads, you figured three confused, but supportive faces in the crowd couldn’t hurt. Besides, you found if you cheered loud enough, you could get most of the other bargoers on board. 

So it was no surprise to see Eddie step through the dinged door, followed promptly by Robin. Even if they were a little early.

“Hey, guys,” you call out, waving. 

You duck below the bar where the sanitizing bucket and rags were located. The very brief lull after Happy Hour didn’t allow for much dallying and you were stuck doing your regular tasks in a very short window of time: clean the bar, get clean glasses, and cut up your garnishes. 

You grab a torn piece of fabric, dip it in the cleaning solution carefully and stand. You’re barely back to your full height when you’re greeted by Eddie and Robin’s faces just inches from yours. They’re leaning forward, elbows resting on the very surface you need to clean. 

“Jesus Christ!” You rear back, free hand jumping to your chest. 

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on?” Eddie asks, raising his brows. He can’t help it—he’s curious.

“Yeah,” Robin encourages with a nod, “we don’t keep secrets here.”

You sigh, reaching out and pushing them back gently so you can wipe up rings of condensation and spilled booze. “I’d really like to play along but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Robin laughs. If it sounds like she doesn’t believe you it’s because she doesn’t. “Uh huh, sure.”

“Something’s up with you and Steve, we can tell.”

You freeze. “I—what?”

“You’re not denying it,” Eddie points out, grinning.

“No, she’s not,” Robin agrees.

It was then you realize what was going on: you were being interrogated. “Nothing’s going on. We’re friends.”

“We’re friends and he’s not all over me,” Robin points out.

“Yeah, I wonder why that is,” you quip.

“The Princess Bride!”

“What?”

“The Princess fucking Bride,” Eddie repeats himself, eyeing you knowingly. “I was finally gonna get you guys to watch Labyrinth and he showed up with that.”

“He grabbed the wrong movie, so what?” You pause. “And you loved The Princess Bride!”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits with a chuckle, “I really did. It has some really badass sword scenes and Andre the Giant, what’s not to like?” All very fair points.

Robin sighs, poking at his shoulder. “You’re getting distracted.” She fixes her gaze on you. “Steve is the worst liar. You gotta know he did that on purpose.”

Alright, yeah, you kinda did. He wasn’t going to be getting any Oscars any time soon. But it was an act you didn’t—couldn’t—think too much about.

If you really considered it, after that night with his parents, a switch flipped, and never went back. You weren’t together, you were still very much just friends, but the touches, the unbridled affection, the soft moments didn’t stop after the facade ended and you weren’t complaining.

The dam had burst and you didn’t think you could go back. You worried if you brought it up, shining a spotlight on the niceties, that it would all end. You were selfish—you wanted it all.

“Okay…” You let out a huff of air. “So, we did kinda go on a date.”

The revelation sends Robin spiraling. “What?” She exclaims, dramatically throwing herself on the bar—she couldn’t just feel her despair, she had to show it too. “And here I thought you were the one girl in town left immune to the Harrington… uh, charm, I guess?”

“Shush,” you admonish, shooting her a warning look. You turn, flashing your customers an apologetic before your focus turns back to your friends. “It wasn’t real.”

“Alright, you lost me now,” Eddie pipes up.

Robin raises her head just enough so she can look up at you through long lashes. “What does that mean?”

“His dad was being a dick about some work dinner and he needed a plus one.” You shrug. “I just had to act like his girlfriend.”

“Oh god,” Robin groans. “Can’t believe we gave him that much credit.”

“Huh?”

“He’s been making goo-goo eyes at you for ages.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums in agreement. “It’s kinda gross.”

“We thought he finally did something about it. Even though I always thought you were too smart for that.”

They kept going but your mind was reeling. “Goo-goo eyes?”

“You’re still on that?” Robin can’t hide it, she was enjoying this. “Yes, he practically turns into a Bugs Bunny cartoon with giant heart eyes every time he sees you. And, in true dingus fashion, he asks you on a fake date instead of a real one.” She shakes her head. “Makes no sense but it obviously worked on you somehow.”

“It didn’t—I—”

“Oh, come on.”

You blink, there’s nothing for you to say. You can’t exactly argue with Robin but actually agreeing feels wrong too. You’re stuck, two pairs of eyes trained intently on you, and you’re desperate for escape. You scan the crowd of bored-looking customers, none of which seem to eagerly need you, before you catch glimpse of the empty stage.

“Don’t you have a show or something?”

Eddie smirks. He knows what you’re doing but, in an act of pity, he decides to play along. “As a matter of fact, I do. Think the boys should be here by now. Wanna help us set up, Rob?”

“Sure.” She spins around on the stool and, when she gets up, you think you’re free. Until she calls over her shoulder, “Better figure it out soon, lover girl.”

—

Less than an hour later, the stage was full of instruments, microphones, and, most importantly, the band itself. The crowd increased, although not entirely for the music, and you didn’t notice Steve arrived until he was standing right before you.

Your grip on the bottle of Southern Comfort you were holding slackened a bit. All you could think was goo-goo eyes.

“Hey. sweetheart,” he grins, plopping down and claiming the nearest bar stool as his own.

You hold up a finger, letting him know you’d be with him in a minute, as you replace the bottle of whiskey with sloe gin and amaretto—with both hands officially occupied, you poured an ounce of each into the shaker.

“Crazy night,” you let him know, voice just barely able to be heard over the screeching of electric guitars and booming drums. You’re talking but you’ve yet to really look at him.

Orange juice fills the rest of the metal cup before you’re sliding a cover on, throwing it over your shoulder, and shaking the cup from side to side. Once it’s mixed and chilled, you drain it out into a Collins glass, admiring the brightly colored liquid that trickled out. Prettiest Alabama Slammer you’ve made yet.

That drink belongs to the redhead at the end of the bar. You slide it over to her with the friendliest “there ya go, love” you could muster before walking back over to your newest customer.

“Want your regular, Stevie?”

When he gives you the affirmative, you get to work. Whiskey sour, very light on the sour.

It’s easy enough and you’re handing him his drink in record time. In exchange, as always, you get far too much money. You used to argue, your attempt at letting him know he was being too generous, but he’d never budge—if he could, he’d give you even more, you were worth every penny.

He sips it casually while studying you over the rim of the glass. You looked pretty, that never seemed to change, but your shoulders were stiff and your jaw clenched. He could tell something was up. “You seem tense.”

You got that right. “I’m fine, just a little tired, I guess.”

It’s an easy lie after being at work for nine hours but it was one Steve didn’t really buy. Not that he pushed it. The two of you were close enough that he knew if you wanted to talk to him, you would. So he changed the subject. “Where’s Robin?”

“She’s around here somewhere. She showed up with Eddie to help set up.”

“Weird, we always come together.”

“Yeah, weird,” you agree. But he had no idea just how strange it was.

The mention of your mutual friend gets you thinking, though. You have no idea how Steve felt or if what they said was true, but you knew what was going on in your heart and your mind—and it was enough to alarm the people closest to you.

For the sake of the whole group, maybe it would be a good idea to just clear the air.

“Steve?” When he looks at you, you avert your gaze, focusing instead on the hanging wine glasses above the bar.  “What are you doing after this?”

“Hanging out with you.” The delivery was smooth, easy. But panic set in as he sat on the words, unease seeping through at the idea that you weren’t asking because you wanted to get together. “You, uh, know if that was like.. what you meant.”

It definitely was. “Come by my place after closing?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”

—

When you pull up outside your apartment hours later, Steve is already there, leaning against his car, waiting for you. You take a moment just to enjoy the sight—he looked like he belonged there, outside your home—before throwing your car in park and getting out.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” You suggest. “It’s late.”

You lead the way up rickety stairs, past long dead plants you’d since abandoned, and to your front door. It certainly wasn’t Steve��s first time at your place, but you couldn’t help it—you were nervous, unready for the conversation you were going to have to initiate. 

You look around for a moment, hoping for a distraction, one that would never come, you nod towards the living room. “We should sit.”

It’s a suggestion, but one Steve eagerly takes. As if it’s not your own home, he places his hand on your back, urging you forward until you’re both on the couch, almost touching. 

“You’re freaking me out with how quiet you are.”

You don’t mean to. It’s the one time in your life that you don’t know what to say. Still, you try.

“I talked to Robin and Eddie earlier.”

“The gruesome twosome,” Steve mutters. “They didn’t upset you or anything, did they?” Lord knows when they got together, especially alone, they could be a lot.

Not that he was complaining. Sure, they were a handful, but so were you and Dustin and the rest of the kids. He found himself in more trouble than ever and his blood pressure had certainly risen, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After years of shitty friends and sycophants, he considered himself lucky to have a group of people who genuinely care for him.

None of that stopped him from worrying about what they could have done, though.

“No, no, nothing like that,” you answer quickly, assuaging his concerns. “I’ve just been thinking about what they said.”

“Uh oh, what was it?”

“This is totally crazy, but they think there’s something going on with us.” You expect Steve to laugh but he doesn’t. His cheeks flush and he looks away but he doesn’t seem to find it humorous. 

“They’re too nosey for their own good.” He shaves his head. “If they made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” you assure him. “I guess I just worried about things getting weird with us or, God forbid, the group.”

“Nothing will ever make things weird with us, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“The thing is... I don’t want anything to change either.” And you really don’t. “I, uh, I really like whatever we’re doing. Maybe too much?” It comes out like a question but it isn’t—it’s just the truth.

“I do too.”

There’s electricity in the air, a good tension.

“I always have,” Steve adds, emboldened by the disclosure. “I know we—I— joked around a lot but I think there always was some truth there.” He reaches over, grabbing ahold of your hand. “Then that night with my parents... which really was a favor, by the way. I didn’t have any gross ulterior motive.”

You squeeze his hand, not needing the assurance. You didn’t know a better human being; there was never a doubt about his intentions. “I know, Steve.”

“It was kinda the same, you know? You were still ridiculously pretty and I got to call you all those cutesy little names you love to hate. But it also felt serious. Like, it wasn’t real but it felt like it was.”

“I get what you mean,” you agree. “It just felt natural. I didn’t really want it to end.” 

“What if it didn’t have to?” Steve pauses for a moment, considering his words. “What if we tried it for real this time?”

You smile—big, bright, genuine—and Steve’s brain practically short circuits. “Are you asking me on an actual date?”

“I sure am.”

You can’t help yourself, the confirmation makes you giggle. He looks alarmed and you cover your face. “Hey,” he says, hands gently wrapping around your wrist, pulling your hands back down. “What’s so funny?”

“Robin is going to hate this.”

That gets him to laugh too. “God, you’re right. Especially when we tell her it’s all her fault.” 

“If only she kept her mouth shut,” you agree, your shoulder bumping against his.

“But thank God she didn’t.” Steve wraps an arm around you, pulling you even closer. “I might have to send her a fruit basket or something.”

—

[dindjarinmandalorian]

Here’s the deal.. I’m posting these again because Stancy is real. I genuinely don’t know why anyone as a director/writer would put the dialogue/ camera shots in the show like they have if it was all for nothing. Steve and Nancy both clearly deeply care for one another. Steve we have seen this since season one. Season 2 ends at the Snowball and you can’t miss when Steve looks into the dance and stares longingly at Nancy. He still feels something for her. In Season 3. The First time Steve and Nancy see each other Nancy is EXTREMELY jealous that he is with Robin. Then As Nancy Shoots at Billy, Steve comes out of Nowhere in the car. Again we get two camera shots. One focused on Steve and One. On Nancy who looks to Steve in shock after being saved. In season 4 Dustin even points out, as does Robin that Nancy is the reason Steve doesn’t take any girl he dates on more then one date. He’s in love with one person…Nancy. Now for Nancy it’s different. This season we see the feelings. She starts the season with Steve in Episode 3. The moment she sees him and the gang she nearly begins to cry. We then see Steve say that Nancy needs someone with her. Robin interjects stating she’ll go. As Robin and Nance leave, Nancy turns back to Steve and gives him a very playful look. Next is key.. Nancy and Robin in the library. Nancy is Annoyed with Robin completely. She lashes out saying “ You’re obviously bored, so why don’t you just call, Steve. I’m sure he’ll come pick you up and I’m not in danger here.” Nancy is jealous. Robin follows her downstairs and states that she and Steve aren’t a thing. From this moment on the scenes with Robin and Nancy are different and lighter. Nancy knows they aren’t together.. relief for her. Not as much tension. It’s the playfulness we see in episode 5 in the creel house with her taking the webs from his hair. Again the Director shows us many looks between the two as they talk, some again season one looks. In Episode 6 “The Dive” First the conversation between Nancy and Robin about “rekindling some old flames that never should have been snuffed out.” The we get to, The Dive. What’s key here and very telling is How Nance reacts to Steve when he she notices him beginning to act like he’s going into the water. The director many times shows us solo shots of just Nancy’s reactions to what Steve says and does. (She almost interjects at one point, but doesn’t) Further when Steve is actually under water, we see the nervousness of Nancy. Robin asks her how much time he’s been underwater and she says about a minute. Again we get more solo shots of Worry and Concern on her face. Don’t know if anyone realized but when Steve surfaces and says he’s found the gate. Nancy’s smile is bigger then ever. She’s also smiling majorly while Steve explains the size of the gate. The directors and writers wanted us to see all of that. In Episode 7 The looks they give each other are clear. When Steve kills the Demobat she immediately checks on him. He makes his joke about being “never better” Nance let’s out a MAJOR sigh of Relief. Next. When she patches him up the longing stares they both share with each other. To me these were both vintage season 1 looks they are giving each other. Then we have the famous conversation that Eddie and Steve Share. Eddie tells Steve to get Nancy back. He’s “never seen such an ambiguous sign of true love” as Nancy diving in after him, not wasting a second. Then Finally again up to the writers and directors. Steve and Nancy are the last two to return to Hawkins. They could have done this in any order, anyone could have gone first or last up the rope but they leave us with Stancy. To end it. It’s clear. They have Major feelings for each other. Gonna be disappointed after all the camera shots, writing and directing going the way it did. Steve and Nancy don’t talk about closure on Barb, they’re future…. Addressing there feelings. Will be majorly disappointing if at the first sight of Jonathan everything is ok and boom basically Volume one didn’t happen for them.. Anyway let me know what you think. Long rant lol

P.S. People don’t look at each other like they do in the gifs and all season and not like each other.. Stancy

[wh0lemilk0vich]

ArgyleShirtSupply!Anon again

I did manage to come up with a bit more in the end 🙈🙈🙈

Eventually outfit try-ons are over and Steve feels like he can finally exhale

Eddie eventually gets to the bottom of his haul and disappointingly 3 of the tees, especially 1 Motörhead one that he had been REALLY excited about, don’t exaaactly fit

Not even not fitting in the same ways! As he’d angrily pointed that all out to Steve- one pinched his arms too much, as he’d shown Steve, jiggling and pinching his own arms right up close in Steve’s face, one’s seams were nearly popping! trying to hold Eddie’s width (and Steve is a GOOD!!!BOYFRIEND!! and he was definitely completely sympathetic hearing Eddie complain, and definitely not just completely uselessly turned on and spouting dumb platitudes when Eddie showed THAT off), and the other two were easily too short for Eddies whole belly

Steve, for one, has no complaints! verdict: A+ haul, 5 stars, thank you Argyle, Steve’ll throw in money and extra for the next lot of shirts

But for someone who was as excited as, and who can be as particular as, Eddie…it’s a bit of a bummer.

So now Steve has a slightly bummed, half naked boyfriend standing in front of him, scrutinising himself in the floor length mirror, whole body swaying gently side to side, as he shifts from foot to foot, deep in dejected thought

And Steve hates to say it…but he’s not completely surprised there were some sizing issues. Because his boy hasn’t ever really let up on getting bigger, and they phoned in his sizes to Argyle about 3 weeks ago.

But! Especially seeing Eddie as complete on show, completely well lit and from all angles at once, as Steve’s seen him all evening - zoning in and out, totally riveted by each movement- there’s definitely new movements, new folds and rolls, more inches to pinch and more of Eddie than there was even 3 weeks ago

There’s a horny clinical part of Steve’s brain that has been stuck on that the whole time: the newness of each visual discovery, wondering how it escaped his notice until now! How was he missing what was happening right in front of him. Steve’s already made up his mind that he can’t wait until next T-Short haul to have that thrill of discovery again, decided he needs to know Eddie’s body as much as he can, know every new part of it as soon as he can

But moreso- Eddie’s trying not to be, but he’s let down! His happy moods been kinda spoiled and Steve can’t have that happen again! Not on his watch!

So Steves a bit unsure, bit nervous about what he’s about to do, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. Not sure Eddie will be in the mood for it right now

And Steve is sympathetic, he is, and ok hey this might actually be helpful? and we’ll ok fuck it he’s gonna shoot his shot

He blows out a big audible thoughtful sigh

“Sucks, but you know how it is man, sizes change between different brands and retailers and whatever. You know…really if you’re gonna be ordering stuff flown in like this, numbered sizes probably aren’t gonna be accurate enough for some of the stuff Argyle’ll be picking you up.”

Steve fixes his eyes downwards, purposefully looking at the magazine laying on the bed in front of him, and casually turns a page.

“I mean if you want things ..to fit just right..It’d probably be a better idea if we just gave him your measurements.”

“Hmm?”

And Eddie cocks an eyebrow at himself in the mirror and finally turns to look at Steve for what feels like the first time since they got home. He doesn’t miss that deliberate “we” for a second, but how had he missed what’s been right next to him all night? Coz ok..wow. His boy is looking sweaty, boy is HOT & BOTHERED all alone on that bed. And Steve at that moment looks up, making eye contact with him now, and he’s wearing such a sweet & unassuming but still subtly suggestive smile

and ok Eddie likes this game

So Eddie mimes thinking it over, being coy, rubbing his belly in thought like other ppl might stroke their chin

“Oh! My measurements you think?”

“Yeah it’s probably safest, so you won’t end up with any duds, make sure this doesn’t happen again”

“Smart. You’re so smart Stevie”

“And-and that way If we notice any measurements….change, before you see him again, it’s a just a phone call, we just call and update him”

“If any measurements change you say? hmmmm”

Oh this is fun. Eddie makes sure to stay demure & thoughtful-faced, playing up how he’s considering his boyfriends smart! and helpful! solution, and he turns his gaze down to look at his massive belly, stroking and grabbing at different parts of it with both hands, making sure to create pleeenty of up and down movement for Steve’s benefit

“I guess you’re right. It’s not a bad idea. Especially with how big this thing is getting.”

He lifts his belly and drops it, not missing Steve’s sharp inhale

“Yeah Yknow baby, it can just be sooo hard to tell once you’re as big as I am! I already feel so huge, like alll over, I don’t even notice it anymore when I get even bigger! It just kinda happens when you eat like I do”

And damn if steve isn’t salivating.

But Eddie puts his finger to pudgy chin in thought at this point

“But wait a minute! To keep track of changes? What it sounds like to me, is your suggesting I be measured on a fairly regular basis?”

And Ohoho yep Steve definitely rutting against his own jeans m, subtle movement sliding him up and down the bed

“It’s a thought.”

And Eddie goes all out on the theatrics for the end play, looks backs to the mirror, twisting and turning this way and that, watching Steve watch his love handles and belly repeatedly bunch up against each other

“But I dunno, I mean Stevie…I really am such a fatty now. Think it might even be tough for me to hold a tape measure round this whole thing myself! I don’t know what to do!”

Steve’s beat red and just blurts out

“I mean! I sh-w-would-i’ll can-me I can do that…for you”

Eddie clasps his hands over his heart, turns around and bats his big eyes at his boyfriend

“Ohhhh you would do that *for me*?”

And the theatrical faux gratefulness Eddie puts on is the final straw coz Steve just breaks into the biggest shit eating grin, and starts giggling and Eddie’s laughing too now, hands on hips

“Steven Harrington, you kinky shit!”

And thus the story of how relaxing, letting go of jealousy and opening himself up to new friendships lead Steve to realise that he may have a bit of a numbers kink

The knowing, stalking, keen and predatory way Eddie gets when he learns a partner's kinks is just ugh so delicious. Eddie gets off on getting Steve off, so he's super duper going to indulge this and play it up. Finding out Steve had a chubby kink for the first time was already a huge win cause it meant he could eat whatever he wanted, as much as he wanted, even more because turns out getting bigger just gets Harrington harder.

This though, this is a little more intellectual, so he has to think of fun ways to tease Steve with it. Like Steve takes all his measurements right? So Steve gets a thigh measurement and Eddie's like

"Hey, what's your waist measurement again, Stevie? Huh, wow would you look at that, looks like my thigh's almost the size of your waist. Isn't that interesting Stevie?"

Eddie wanting to compare their measurements to see how many Steves he is haha

[sarcasticfina]

Fic Writer Tag Game

How many works do you have on AO3? 263

What’s your total AO3 word count? 4,901,188

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they? including the fandoms on FFnet, that haven't yet been moved over to ao3, that'd be a total of 37. separating the larger fandoms (marvel, dcu) into their individual parts: Thor; Arrow; Smallville; The Vampire Diaries; Glee; Captain America; Supernatural; Teen Wolf; Iron Man; Life with Derek; Firefly; Friday Night Lights; X-Men; Fantastic Four; Harry Potter; Sons of Anarchy; Girl Meets World; Batman; Daredevil; From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series; Transformers; Lost Girl; Game of Thrones; Banshee; High School Musical; The OC; One Tree Hill; CSI: New York; Degrassi; Gossip Girl; NCIS; The Unusuals; Criminal Minds; iCarly; Secret Life of the American Teenager; Twilight; and The Listener

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. and I wonder (if everything could ever feel this real forever) - darcy/bucky - Steve tells him that Darcy's harmless. Bucky imagines, on paper, Darcy is harmless. HYDRA wouldn't give her a second glance. But he does. He can barely keep his eyes off her. He's not sure he wants to. | Kudos: 5576

2. I Climbed The Tree To See The World (When The Gusts Came Around To Blow Me Down, I Held On As Tightly As You Held On To Me) - darcy centric | darcy/steve - The path to self-discovery, including becoming Coulson's assistant-slash-liaison-slash-bff, Captain America's lady love, and rating fourth on the SHIELD BAMF scale, was like the yellow brick road; it was chaos and confusion around every bend. | Kudos: 3973

3. Take a little piece of my heart (and keep it for yourself) - oliver/felicity - A collection of Olicity prompts on Tumblr posted here for easier access/reading. | Kudos: 3498

4. You put your arms around me (and I'm home) - darcy/bucky - A collection of Darcy/Bucky oneshots, drabbles, and prompt fills. | Kudos: 3293

5. you (anchor me back down) - darcy/bucky - "I'll be right back." Famous last words. | Kudos: 2747

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? not all of them. i do try to keep up on them, especially on longer stories when there's been significant wait times in between chapters, or when a reader is asking a question or is unclear on something. and especially when someone writes a really indepth comment/review, i like to respond to those and talk about motivations and character growth.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? I've written a number of fics that either had suicide or major character death, so i'm not sure if one outranks the other in terms of most angsty... hmm... i remember "be still and know that I'm with you (be still and know that I am here)" and "light a match, burn the world to ash (I will watch it die, and hold your hand as I fly)" both got some pretty intense reactions when they were posted. And "It's Your Song That Sets Me Free (I Sing It While I Feel I Can't Go On)" was basically just angst from beginning to end. buuuuut, i think i'll say "so you think you can tell (heaven from hell" was, only because there's a build up of everything going so right, only to pivot at the end, so it feels very bittersweet.

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written? i loooooove crossovers. i find writing in the marvel fandom makes things quite easy, but also smallville. as long as i can find a common thread, i enjoy finding a way to overlap two shows. i'll say the hardest one to write was "ruby red slippers (unavailable in her size)." I'm not sure why, but i found writing each personality together just felt strange. i liked the idea behind the story, but i definitely remember feeling like i was really forcing myself to keep going, like something just didn't fit right.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? oh, definitely. you cannot please everyone, it's impossible. for the most part, hate comes and i either argue back, take the criticism for what it's worth, or just ignore it when it's baseless. i think the hate that bothered me the most was a homophobic PM someone sent me re: "you know I will adore you ('til eternity)," on FFnet. i actually went and searched it up. they've since blocked me so i can't read our whole thread back and forth. but i did put part of it on tumblr so i could rant on it a bit, so you can see that here.

Do you write smut? If so what kind? ha. yes. depending on the story, it can be really detailed or really flowery. it depends on the ship, the plot, and how graphic i feel like being. i've definitely become more comfortable over the years with my writing. that said, i think everybody likes something different. i once had a reviewer tell me a sex scene was too much, just too intense. it was a stefan/caroline story and to be fair, that entire oneshot was just them fucking, lol, but it is what it is. to each their own.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Multiple times.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! for the record, i am always happy to have my stories translated and shared. i just like having a link sent to me and to be credited.

What’s your all time favorite ship? i have a list of OTPs, because interests change and as shows come and go, my love for a ship can be shelved for a while before it pops back up at random. currently, i can't get enough of buck/eddie from 9-1-1. and, historically, chloe/oliver (smallville) and felicity/oliver (arrow) have been two of my top OTPs. but i think i'd have to go with bonnie/damon. they had all the potential and the show dropped the ball by not exploring it. at the same time, that's kind of a blessing, because i don't trust those writers to properly explore what they had without eventually destroying it for the likes of de/ena. it means a treasure trove for writing where it could have gone and all the what if's.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will? the intention is always to finish. but given how i feel about allison mack and how that impacts my feelings re: chloe sullivan, pretty much anything with her as a main character is not something i see myself returning to.

What are your writing strengths? What are your writing weaknesses? i'm putting these together because my strength is my weakness. i love to write. when i get an idea, i go all in and i will skip eating and sleeping to just write write write. but i also eventually hit a wall and i get so many ideas that i hyperfocus on one until the steam is gone and then i hyperfocus on the next one to maintain that need to keep writing, accidentally leaving the last story in the dust for entirely too long. i also have clinical depression that comes and goes, which hasn't been super great mixed with covid and isolation, so more often recently, i find myself overly exhausted and despite wanting to write, can rarely get motivated to do so. so, pre-covid, wrote so much i left entirely too many stories dangling. during covid, i've just been reading and struggling to get myself focused enough to do what i love.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i appreciate the authenticity when possible, but i've recently been reading more about how native speakers of other languages feel when a) their language is butchered by google translate, or b) it's just not genuine in terms of how bilingual speakers act or speak.

What was the first fandom you’ve written for? it was smallville, but i remember adopting it out to someone else because i wasn't going to finish it. so if you look at my ffnet, the first fandom i wrote for appears to be x-men: the movie, but i remember writing a chloe/oliver story prior to that.

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written? i have a lot. i mean, on ffnet, i have 576 stories, many of which were transferred over to ao3, with a lot of oneshots and drabbles getting joined together into collections. so there's a ton to pick from that span a 14-ish year timeline.

"you know I will adore you ('til eternity)" and "let me break (the walls that surround me)" hold a special place in my heart.

honestly, each story is important in its own way. there are bits and pieces of each that i love. every time i write something new it feels like my favorite. my best. and then a new idea comes along. there are scenes i've written that i loved more than the whole of what they became. lines that stand out that are almost too good to be a part of the larger picture.

one of my all time favorite passages i've written was bonnie's thoughts on damon and herself in 'if you love me (let me go)":

He is far from perfect. He is a novel of red, corrective ink. He is frayed pages and torn binding. His life, his choices, his mistakes leave lasting effects on everyone he meets.

She is a lifeboat with a hole in it. An anchor that drowns in the sea while everyone else remains steady above. She is both the calm and the storm, and while she screams that she will not be tamed, she cries. Bittersweet tears that go unnoticed and uncared about.

there are other stories, other pieces of dialogue, that i've been proud of. that make me laugh when i re-read them. that make me cry. and i love them. there are others that make me wilt and cringe and regret. it's a process. love and pride and growth, all bound together.

Tagging: @absentlyabbie, @anonymous033, and anyone else who'd like to fill this all out, haha

[tripleaxeldiaz]

you play, and everything else goes away

for @extasiswings <3

read on ao3

It’s all very familiar as he enters the store — the smell of wood and rosin, the instruments hanging on the walls, the snippets of music coming from the practice rooms along the back wall. There’s music playing from speakers behind the front desk too, a familiar piece that he’s forgotten the composer of. As he adjusts the case straps on his shoulders, watching a group of kids warm up in the corner, he’s suddenly nervous, anticipation rolling in his stomach like it did before his very first lesson.

Eddie didn’t start with the cello — every kid in the neighborhood was taking piano lessons, so his mother signed him and his sisters up too. Sophia was good, played through sophomore year, did a few solo and ensemble competitions. Adriana quit after a month so she could focus on dance. Eddie liked it fine, but he didn’t feel any passion for it. The keys felt too cold, too impersonal, and he couldn’t feel the music anywhere but in his hands, didn’t feel like he could control it.

His teacher must have noticed too, because she turned to him one day mid-lesson and asked, “Eddie, what do you really want to play?”

He’d thought about it, of course. He’d watched kids warm up and tune every instrument imaginable while waiting for lessons to start, but he always felt himself drawn to the strings. They were beautiful, looked elegant and commanding no matter who was playing them, and although they only had four strings, there were infinite notes that could be played, microtonalities and variations that the 88 keys of the piano just couldn’t replicate. Every violinist he watched seemed to put their whole body into their pieces, swaying as the music changed, bows ebbing and flowing. He told his teacher the simplified version of that and she nodded, leaving the room and coming back a few minutes later with two cases, one double the size of the other.

She handed him the violin first. Twisting his arm to hold it under his chin was awkward, and the shrill tone of the E string wasn’t something he was sure he wanted to listen to day in and day out. His teacher showed him some basic fingerings and helped him play a scale, but something still felt wrong.

The cello, though. As soon as he sat down with it securely between his knees, he knew this was different. Better. The tones were lower, warmer, and he could feel them in every inch of him, felt in command of the music he was playing. All he played was a D major scale, but it was enough to know this was it for him. His parents agreed, happy enough that he still wanted to play something, and bought him his own cello that same day. He was a little worried on the day of his first lesson that he wouldn’t love it as much as he hoped, but one hour and one sawed out version of “Hot Cross Buns” later, he was completely enamored.

He continued with lessons, joining his school’s orchestra in fifth grade, and Eddie continued falling in love with the cello, now learning how to love how it sounded as part of a whole rather than just a single instrument. Cello parts weren’t always the melody or particularly fun, but they supported the sound of the whole piece, enriching it, sometimes making it so intense he could feel the notes in his bones as he played. He was first chair by sophomore year, playing solos and in the chamber orchestra. He listened to the pieces his director recommended outside of school, and fell down rabbit holes of his own, finding particular comfort in the repetition and minimalism of Glass and Richter, in the picturesque melodies of Einaudi. By the time he was a senior, it was clear that he wouldn’t be able to play much if at all after graduation — his parents were pushing so hard for pre-med, the Army kept sending him letters about his potential as a recruit, and all the best music programs were out of state anyway, away from Shannon, from his family, everything he knew.

He packed up his cello after his orchestra’s senior concert, fully expecting to never touch it again, watch it gather dust in the corner of his childhood bedroom while the world moved on around it. It hurt Eddie deeply to leave this thing he loved so much behind, but he still had recordings to listen to, where he could close his eyes and pretend he was playing too, fingering along silently on his arm.

It wasn’t the same, but it would have to be enough.

But fast forward 15 years and here Eddie is, waiting for his new teacher to call him into their room, foot tapping with nervous energy. He sees a door open, a girl walking out with her case on her back, waving as she heads out of the store. A man maybe 10 years older than him sticks his head out.

“Edmundo?” he calls. Eddie walks over to the room, shutting the door behind him as they shake hands.

“Eddie is fine,” he says.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve,” Steve says, his smile warm and paternal. “I take it this isn’t your first rodeo?”

Eddie stops, bow in his hand frozen mid-rosin. He hadn’t even realized he had unpacked, it just...happened. Like muscle memory.

“It’s not,” he laughs, blushing lightly. “But it has been a while.”

“Well that’s okay, it’s never too late to start playing again,” Steve says as Eddie settles in the plastic chair, locking his endpin and placing it in the rock stop. “Do you have any music with you? I’d like to get an idea of where your technique is at right now.”

“I don’t, but I have a piece memorized I can play?”

Steve waves his hand out as he sits in the chair across from Eddie. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Eddie places the bow on the strings and takes a deep breath. It’s been ages, but it’s all so familiar that he’s not nervous anymore. The weight of the cello is comforting, like hugging an old friend, and he’s relaxed. Excited, even, to be back in this mindset that was an escape to him for so long. As he begins to play, the familiar arpeggios flow out of him like rain water, the bow gliding along with them. He closes his eyes and feels it, the slurs and scales, the crescendos and diminuendos, every rest, every string crossing. This was the first piece he ever memorized, the first one he ever played in front of people at a recital, and to know that it’s still so much a part of him, ingrained in his mind, makes him kind of want to cry.

He finishes, let’s the last chord linger, his eyes still closed. He knows it wasn’t perfect — he was flat in places, he missed a bowing change and was backwards for a few bars, and his fingertips started hurting toward the end, calluses no longer there to protect him. But none of that matters to him, really, because he’s back, back in this home he didn’t realize he had missed so much.

He opens his eyes as Steve claps softly, still smiling. “That was really great, Eddie. You have some things to brush up on, but you really are a natural. Shall we work through it from the top?”

He picks up his bow, heart close to bursting with happiness, and he starts again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie peaks through the crack in the curtain, scanning the audience for his family. He spots them — they’re kind of hard to miss, taking up the entire third row — and he feels his stomach drop, more nervous than he ever is running into a burning building.

It was their doing, really, his getting back into playing. Sophia had been in town and had dropped by the station one day, and everyone took full advantage of grilling her for childhood memories of Eddie. He hadn’t minded when she let slip that he played cello once upon a time, because he wasn’t ashamed of it. It just wasn’t something he talked about often because it still stung, even all these years later, remembering the feeling he used to get mastering a tricky fingering or learning a new piece, knowing he’d probably never have that same joy again. He didn’t really think anything of the way Buck’s eyes lit up when he said he wouldn’t mind taking lessons again, or the way he pulled everyone but Eddie aside in the weeks leading up to Christmas.

At their yearly gift exchange, Eddie had been presented with a huge, oddly wrapped package with a tag reading “To: our favorite musician, From: all of us”. His breath caught as he unwrapped it, revealing familiar, curved black plastic. He opened the case, tearing up at the sight of the used but clearly loved cello and a coupon for a year’s worth of lessons from a local teacher. He croaked out a “thank you” and was quickly enveloped in a group hug, feeling beyond grateful for these people that knew him so well and loved him so much.

He practiced as often as he could in between lessons and work and everything else. Sometimes he was alone, working through difficult passages with varying degrees of frustration. Sometimes Chris laid on the ground next to him doing homework, sometimes Buck sat on the couch and read, both listening intently, not caring when Eddie played the same four bars over and over and over to get them right. As annoying as it was, he never felt like giving up, like picking cello up again had been a mistake. If anything, it just made him work harder, in honor of 18 year old Eddie that had to leave his passion behind.

The audience claps as the pianist before him finishes. Eddie feels a hand on his shoulder, turns to see Steve behind him, holding his folder of music.

“You’ve worked hard this year, Eddie. You’re going to be great. And if not, that just means you have to keep practicing.”

Eddie nods, stomach still swirling. He and Steve walk on stage as his name is announced, and he hears Buck and Chimney’s unmistakable hollers. He sets up his chair and music stand in front of the piano, looking at the audience again. He can see everyone’s face clearly from here, all smiles, Bobby holding up his phone to record the performance. He catches Buck’s eye, who sends him a wink and a smile, and he’s ready.

He places his bow on the strings, nods to Steve, and he’s lost in the music almost immediately. It’s a melancholic piece, full of sorrow and intensity that fills Eddie as he plays. He picked this piece because it’s beautiful in it’s sadness and simplicity, and today, he plays it for all that he’s lost. For his Army friends, for Shannon, for his younger, more optimistic self. He mourns for them through his music in a way that he’s never been able to without it, and as it swells into the final melodic section, he swears he feels some weight lift off his soul.

He finishes, and there’s a breath before the audience applauds. It’s mostly polite, but the third row is on its feet, Athena passing Maddie a pack of tissues as they wipe their eyes. He smiles and bows before heading offstage with Steve, feeling giddy, the same we he always remembered feeling after a good performance. It didn’t matter that he missed a few notes or rushed a few bars — he made people feel something, and that was a better reward than perfection.

Another round of applause from his family greets him as he enters the lobby, Chris barreling into his legs, all smiles and congratulations. There’s hugs and pats on the back and flowers from Hen and Karen, and Eddie doesn’t know if he’ll stop smiling. As they leave, headed to a nearby restaurant to celebrate, Buck falls in step next to Eddie, tangles their fingers together.

“You were beautiful up there, Eds,” he says as he presses a kiss to the back of Eddie’s hand. “I’ve never seen you look so in your element.”

Eddie just smiles, kissing Buck’s cheek before tugging him toward the car, Chris already there, yelling at them to get a move on.

Because Buck’s right. On stage, playing music, he is in his element. Behind a cello, he’s home.

[justmeinadaze]

Hi lovely!! I want to start off by saying how TALENTED YOU ARE, genuinely you are my favourite writer on this platform for Eddie and Steve LOL

I was hoping we could get some more of pornstar! steddie as it is my literal favourite ( Maybe something where the reader is innocent and hasn't had much or any sex and asks them to teach her stuff or something? ) I don't know, if you feel up to writing it you can add anything you want!!

Again, absolutely adore you and your writing, and I hope you are having a wonderful day!!

xo Cherry 💫

A/N: I changed this a bit. I hope that's ok. I didn't want it to be too close or similar to Corroded Corpses "Boys On Film" (Check it out! Its amazing!)

Thank you for your compliments <3. I love you!

Warnings: Pornstar Steddie/ Plus Size Fem Y/N, established relationship, best friends to lovers, SMUT (dirty talk, 'teaching', facesitting, 69, pretty lady on top). FLUFF. Mentions of reader never having been on top because of her size (brief), she does have some reservations but they squash that.

Word Count: 2786

Steddie Asks/ Donate to Me

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on a minute, little lady.”, Eddie practically shouts as you roll your eyes and Steve laughs through his teeth. “You’re telling me that you’ve never ridden a guy before?”

“Ok, this was a mistake. Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything and keep watching your dirty movie alright?”, you sigh completely flushed with embarrassment.

The three of you had been best friends for so many years and you were never once shy around each other. You had seen them naked and vice versa, openly told the other about any sexual experiences you had or were currently having, and they even opened up to you about signing up to be in a porn film, bringing it over a few months later to show you the finish product. 

But when it came to other aspects of your relationships, you kept things to yourself especially after they beat up one of your ex’s for calling you a “fat slut” when you two got into a fight. 

“No, no. Please, go on. I’d love to hear more because I don’t understand why any man wouldn’t want to watch you bouncing around on top of them.” Again, you tried to shy away but Steve grabbed your hands and moved them away from your face. “Come on, honey. I’m serious. No teasing.”

“I mean…look at her…”, you smile hoping your tone sounds playful as you gesture towards the screen. “I mean…”

“Yeah. That’s a person…Wait…are you an alien?!”

“Stop it, Ed. Yeah, Y/N. We see her…I don’t see a difference though.”

“Really, Steven? You don’t see ANY difference?”, you sass as you get to your feet and place yourself by the tv screen. “NOTHING at all?”

“Are you trying to tell me the reason you’ve never been on top is because you’re curvy?”

“That’s a nice way of putting it, Eddie, but let’s be blunt here. I’m a fat girl. I’m too heavy and add in the fact that no one wants to see my…everything…jiggle.”

“Speak for yourself.”, he mumbles under his breath. 

“Did someone tell you this or is this you?”, Steve asks a bit more forcefully than he meant to. “Because we’ll fucking kill anyone that fucking lied to you like that. If it’s you then we can just spank it out of you.”

Both men smile when you giggle.

“Do you know how? To ride a dick, I mean.”

Your eyes narrow Eddie’s way as he nonchalantly places the beer bottle in his hand on the table beside his bed. 

“I mean…there’s not much to it…I imagine. Why? Wanna teach me, porn star?”

“We can if you want us to.”

Your gaze shifts between theirs waiting for the punch line followed by their infectious laughs that make you feel warm inside and out. But it never comes as they continue to stare at you with their wide, expressive eyes waiting on you to decide. 

“Why?”

“It’s not like we’re making love or anything. We’re just…teaching…It will be like how we were on set except there’s no camera.”

“We know we’re not your type anyway.”, Steve jests as he reaches out to lightly hit your knee. 

“Who says?” That grabs their attention as their heads fully snap in your direction. “I mean, we’ve never really talked about it but I always thought I wasn’t your type. Personally, I think you’re both sweet, funny, attractive…I guess.”

They laugh gently at your joke as you smile their way. 

“Ok!”, Eddie claps his hands loudly together as he bounces off the mattress. “Harrington, you lay on the floor here and Y/N, go ahead and take off everything from the waist down.”

Your eyes widen in amusement as you watch Steve slide off the bed with zero hesitation as he does what his friend suggestions and removes his shirt before tossing it to the side. 

“Are you…are you sure? I don’t…”

“Hey.”, the metalhead coos in a much softer voice as he takes you hand and guides you onto your feet. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just say the word. We’ll still love you.”

“You promise? I don’t…I can’t lose you two.”

With a tender smile, Eddie cups your face in his hands and brings his lips to your own for a tender kiss. 

“We’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. Cross my heart.”

“And hope to die.”, Steve adds as his fingers comfortingly caress your thigh.

“Well, let’s not go that far.”, you tease, trying to keep the mood light as you remove your shorts and panties. “Now what, Mr. Munson.”

“Oooo I like that.”, he jokes as he guides you to your knees, watching as the other man falls flat on his back and runs his fingers through his hair to push it way from his face. “Ok, now, whenever you’re ready, I want you to place both knees on either side of his head and—”

“You want me to sit on his face?” Eddie’s grin grows as he nods. “I’ve…I’ve never done that either—”

“I figured.”

Smirking, you lightly punch his chest causing both boys to chuckle before suddenly feeling soft kisses trailing up your thigh as Steve sits up on one of his elbows. 

“It’s ok, honey, trust me. I can handle it and if something’s not right I’ll tap your leg three times.”

His beautiful amber eyes watch you carefully as you exhale, allowing you all the time you need before you gradually crane your neck to kiss his lips. 

“Good girl. Come on.”, the former jock praises as you allow them to maneuver you till your lower half was hovering just above him with your hands balancing on his chest and his cling to your thighs. 

“Can, um, can I have a bit more vulnerability?” Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion at your question till you gesture with your head at what you want, laughing as he leans over to unbutton Steve’s jeans to pull them down his ankles. 

“Ay! Be careful down there. I’m not a rag doll.”

You smile as he scolds the metalhead but you can’t help it when a shaky breath leaves you as his admittedly large cock tries to push through the hole in his boxers. 

“Is she turning you on, bud?”

“Fuck off, Munson. It’s just… Y/N, your pussy smells good.” Lifting his head, he presses his nose between your folds and your eyes roll back as his wide tongue follows. 

“God, you look so fucking sexy, sweetheart. N-Now, go ahead and roll your hips a-against his tongue. You can use his chest for balance if you need to.”

Doing as he instructed, you rolled your hips forward, whimpering when he grazed your clit down to your entrance, just barely dipping in before pulling back. You tried again with a bit more confidence causing Steve to groan underneath you as his mouth closed around your little bud.

“D-Did…did I hurt you?”

When he shook his head, he let go of your bundle of nerves with an obscene slurping pop that had your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“No, baby. Fuck, you taste like heaven. You can push down harder if you need to. I’m ok.”

Baby

They’d never called you that before. Hearing it now drove you crazy as your nails dug into his chest and grinded your body against him. 

“Atta girl. You like that? You like hearing him compliment you like that?”, Eddie murmured as he pressed his nose into your cheek and left feathery light kisses along your skin. 

One of Steve’s palms released you and you both watched as he dug into his boxers to free his cock, collecting the copious amount of precum leaking from the tip to use as he stroked himself looking for a much-needed release. 

“O-Ok, fuck, now, I want you to bounce on his tongue, babe. Use your knees to lift yourself up a-and come back down till you feel him deep in that tight little pussy.”

You tried to do what he commanded but there was some self-conscious part of your brain that was terrified of hurting the boy beneath you. Eddie noticed your trepidation, hastily gripping your jaw and turning your eyes to meet his. 

“Don’t. Don’t think about your size or what those other fuckers told you. He said he’d tell you if he needed to stop. Do you not trust him?”

“N-No, I do. I do.”

“Then why are you hesitating?”

“I’m sorry.”, you pant as you push yourself up straighter and utilize your knees to do what he instructed. As your body came back down, Steve’s thick, large tongue filled you so completely that you felt like you wanted to cry from pleasure. “Fuck, Steve. N-No one’s ever…been this deep…”

“You haven’t had me yet, sweetheart. Now, make yourself cum.”

After licking his fingers, Eddie reached between you and matched your rhythm as he messaged your clit. You were suddenly overwhelmed with euphoria as the coil snapped and Steve arms quickly wrapped around your middle, holding you in place as you rode out your high. 

“Good…good girl. Let him lick you clean, pretty girl.”

Your body twitched as you fell against him, his tongue still devouring you but now at a much slower pace. Your heavy eyes glanced towards his length that was now firey red and you couldn’t stop yourself when you carefully circled your fingers around him. 

“Ah, fuck.”, he whined at the sensitivity, seemingly on the edge of a release. Raising your head, you spit over his tip causing his head to hit the floor with a little thunk as he absorbed the feeling of your palm stroking his length. “Fuck, her hand feels good. Her pussy t-tastes amazing, Ed. It’s everything we…”

You couldn’t hear what he mumbled to Eddie as your lips fully enveloped him and all you good manage to absorb was the throbbing of his length on your own tongue. Steve’s fingers tangled in your hair as his hips thrust upwards and you allowed him to use your throat as he chased his high. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck…fuck! M’gonna cum.”

His seed spurted its warmth as he grunted in pleasure above you. After swallowing everything he had to give, you kissed his tip and he lazily man-handled you around till your face was level with his so he could passionately kiss your lips. 

“Are you ready for your second lesson, Y/N?”

At the sound of his strained tone, your gaze shifted towards Eddie who had his cock in his hand that now look just as red and angry as Steve’s had.

“Yes, Mr. Munson. I’m ready.”

Smirking at your answer, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms and climbed back on to his mattress with you on top of him straddling his waist. As he reached for the pack of condoms on his bed side table, your hand extended out to stop him. 

“I’m, um, I’m on the pill. I mean if you want to.”

Blinking, you noticed his confident demeanor faulter slightly. 

“Are you sure? With everything we do…on set and…”

“Are you safe?”

“Yeah, yeah, princess, I’m clean. I…we just understand that…you may have a viewpoint of us…”

Placing your palms under his ears, you softly kiss his lips as your thumbs caress his cheeks. 

“Did someone tell you this or is this you?”, you echo their words from earlier. “Because I’ll kick anyone’s ass who—”

“Yeah, yeah, ya dork.”, he jests as he playfully smacks your behind. “Ok, I’ve, um, I’ve never done it raw so…if your pussy is as good as Steve says it is…I may ruin this particular lesson by busting too soon.”

Giggling at his now nervous demeanor, you lift off your shirt and toss it towards the other boy who catches it midair before throwing it on the floor near your pants so he can climb in beside you both. 

“I like this bra. It’s cute.”, Steve compliments as his fingers trace the black lace while Eddie’s own hands rub up and down your sides.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby, just slide down onto my dick. Take your time, there’s no rush.”

Nodding, Eddie holds his shaft as your entrance hovers just above him. Just the warmth alone that’s radiating from your cunt has his cock twitching before you slowly begin to descend onto him. 

“Shit.”

“What? Did I do s-something? Am I—”

His ringed hand clasps over your mouth as his other keeps you in place. 

“No. You’re not too heavy. Stop thinking about all that bullshit. Fuck, I really am going to fucking cum before she even moves.”

Steve grins at the man’s words as he winks at you reassuringly. Knowing that he’s alright, you continue to lower your body, taking him in inch by inch till you feel him fully sheathed inside you. 

“Eddie.”

“How does it feel, baby?”

“So…deep. Feels different…better…”

“Go—Go ahead and roll your hips.” You do as he says, repeating your movements you had done with the other boy causing an electricity to shoot through you as his cock grazes something inside you that you weren’t even sure was there. 

“Oh my god.”

“There’s the spot.”, he whispered. “Take over, Y/N. Balance on my chest and hit that spot, baby girl. Fuck, your pussy is squeezing me so tight.”

While you ride his length, you don’t notice the way your tummy jiggles or that from his angle you may not look flattering. All you can focus on is him and how he feels inside you. With every press of that button, you whimper and mewl his name causing you to clench tighter to him as he groans at the sound of you moaning. When you’re finally able to open your eyes to look at him, you notice his chocolate ones are zeroed in on where you two connected as his hands absently guide your movements on your waist. 

Occasionally, his gaze shifts to your breasts as he licks his lips at the sight and desperate to please him, you reach behind you to undo the clasp, throwing it to the ground. Leaning up towards your chest, Eddie wraps his mouth around one of your nipples and your fingers thread through his hair as you grind your hips against his. 

“So fucking beautiful. Cum for me, baby.”

Pushing at his chest, you chase your high and he bites his bottom lip at the sight as you finally truly take over. Your body shudders as your rhythm stutters and your pussy quivers as you come undone. It’s more than Eddie can handle and his grip becomes almost bruising as he guides your sloppy movements till you feel him empty deep inside you. 

“F-Fuck…oh, careful, pretty girl.”, he coos as you wince when you try to lift your body off his. “Can, um, is it ok if I hold you like this?”

Smiling, you nod as lay your head under his chin and he circles his arms around you so he can play with your hair. 

“In a minute we can take a shower and get you clean.”, he whispered as they both listened to you steadily breathe.

“Am I your type?” Confusion paints both their features and you push up on your knees so you could see them both. “You said you weren’t my type but I said that you were. Am I yours?”

Their gaze shifts to each other before Steve chuckles under his breath. 

“You didn’t hear what I said, did you? I said that your pussy was everything we ever talked about it being. That’s not all we talk about though. You’re kind and strong—”

“Sarcastic as fuck.”, Eddie cuts in making you laugh. 

“You’re so gorgeous, honey. When we were shooting our scenes we, uh, we pretended she was you.”

Both men sit up with the metalhead holding your body to keep you against him. 

“If you want this to be a onetime thing we understand but if not…”

“We’d like to take you on a date.”

“Maybe give you some more lessons.”

“Hey now. I’m sure I can teach you both a thing or two.”, you giggle as they beam up at you with nothing but care. “Ok, as long as you can promise me that no matter what I won’t lose you. You’ve been my best friends for so long and I love you so much.”

Placing his hand on the back of your neck, Eddie guides your lips to his. 

“What did I say, babe? We’ll always be here, no matter what. Cross my heart.”, he grins as he does the gesture over his chest and Steve follows, finishing it by grabbing your cheeks in both his massive palms to kiss you. 

[tisthenightofthewitch]

TOBIAS FORGE: HOW IRON MAIDEN INFLUENCED GHOST

2018 has been a banner year for Ghost, and it all ends with an extremely ambitious tour, featuring arena shows in the U.S. With the Swedish cult act on the cusp of becoming one of heavy metal's great immortals, we got on the phone with Ghost mastermind Tobias Forge to talk all about his upcoming plans, Carpenter Brut's new version of "Dance Macabre," what Forge learned from touring arenas with Iron Maiden and more.

So the Carpenter Brut cover, did they write this before and send it to you, or was this a collaboration? How did this whole thing get your attention?

I knew Franck and the band from before. I think our whole relationship started a few years ago. I’m a big fan of Deathspell Omega, and because he had produced or recorded them, he emailed me introducing himself, saying, “Hey, I’m the producer of Deathspell Omega and I just wanted to let you know that I have a band called Carpenter Brut and we would love to, at some point down the line, do some sort of collaboration.” I said, “Okay, great.”

I’ve been terribly busy, and basically, as much as my intentions are pure, very often when it comes to collaborations or doing things or even socially sometimes, my intention is always like, “Yeah, of course.” But between being on tour… if you come out on tour and hang, I’m there, but usually when I’m off tour, I’m pretty much domesticated, I have a family. We kept postponing, and we sort of kept in touch.

So [Carpenter Brut] came out on tour. Me and Franck -- it was basically the first time we’d ever hung out together, and that I think furthered the bond and the idea of, “Well, at some point we should do something.” I’m a big fan of ’80s music, for lack of a better word. I’m a big fan of dance music, but especially dance music when it comes in the form of ’80s horroresque dance music, and I know just the guy who does music just like that.

Carpenter Brut even used different vocal melodies at times, as opposed to your original version of "Dance Macabre." Did Carpenter Brut remix your vocal lines, or did they use parts that didn’t actually make the Ghost version of the song?

No, they were not given any alternate takes. I always layer my vocals a lot. I sing a minimum of three layers of the same line every time and then it’s always one or two or sometimes even more harmonies. If you just mute the music, and you have all the harmonies in there, the harmonies, obviously, will dictate the chords underneath. So in order for him to alternate and change with the chords, if he wants to change that, sometimes he needs to adjust the tone or a note here or there, and you might wanna skip those harmonies and sort of change them a little to follow the orchestration of the new chord sequence. I’m assuming that is what he did, because it sounds correct, for lack of a better word.

So back in 2015, I spoke to a Nameless Ghoul for Loudwire, and he talked about the “growing pains” of Ghost’s live show as it becomes more and more elaborate. Now that Ghost will be playing arenas, how have those “growing pains” continued?

There are several and they’re quite intense. I was told before that one of the hardest jumps to do, painlessly, is the one from playing clubs into playing arenas. I am completely aware of that now. The production that you jam into a theater, regardless of if there’s 900 people in the crowd or 3,500, is basically a production that’s supposed to be seen through a proscenium sort of hole, and that means there are certain aspects and angles of the production that you won’t see as a spectator.

When you go into an arena like the Forum, all of a sudden you have a completely different angle. There’s a completely different degree from which people are seeing your production, so you have to make that as close as possible to the other bands that they have seen in an arena. Years ago we played the second biggest ice hockey arena here in Stockholm. It’s not the biggest one, but it’s basically our Madison Square Garden. That’s the place where every band ever has played. All the bands in the ’60s… the Beatles played there, the Stones played there, Iron Maiden played there like five or six times in the ’80s. It’s the place where most people, if you’re older than 30, you have seen concerts there. Obviously, the Forum, same thing. Every [big] band on the planet has played there.

You have to go in there knowing that last time a lot of those people were here, they might’ve seen Guns ’N Roses, or they might’ve seen Muse, or they might’ve seen U2. That is the hardest thing; to find that thing that works for one night, because the day after and the day before, you might do a smaller venue. Even though it’s a theater stage and 3,000 people, that’s big enough, but you cannot just take that production and just put it onto the Forum stage, as you won’t look cool.

I think that the hardest thing to get to terms with emotionally is the fact that you don’t really have the time to get good at doing those arena shows, because the production will be something that you see maybe one time before we do the show. If you’re headlining at Hellfest or Wacken or Graspop or something, and all of a sudden you’re playing in front of so many more people, and you have to step up everything five or six or 10 times. You’re used to having maybe eight cans of fire, but on this show you need to have 28, because there has to be fire everywhere, because people standing 200 feet away, they need to see it.

I love playing arenas; it’s the best thing. As much as I like the intimacy of theaters, that is my favorite size of show, because if you’re playing arenas, especially if you do a whole consecutive tour playing arenas, there are no legal limitations. There’s some limitations, but it’s not the same thing as when you come into an old, wooden theater that was built in 1902 that you cannot use fire in, you cannot use confetti in it, you cannot blow shit up, and oh, by the way, you cannot move the curtain, or whatever. There’s tons of things like that.

When you do arenas consecutively, that’s when people really get value for their money. That’s when you can be consistent. That’s another thing that I am very much hoping to become, consistent, in the sense that when you go see Ghost, you can count on us having fire, count on us having the pyro. You can count on us doing that gag and that gag and that gag.

Did Ghost learn any important lessons from touring arenas with Iron Maiden?

One of my earliest sources of inspiration when it comes to wanting to become a touring musician playing arenas was carefully and hysterically studying the booklet of Live After Death. That was my measuring tool in terms of, “That is what a tour looks like.” That is how many shows you do. Which might give you an idea of why we toured so much, because that is what I learned. That is one of the reasons why I even wanted to become a musician and be on tour, because I read about it. I used to sit with an atlas, a map book, and I used to follow the tour and watch where they were going, and oh, they had a day off in Saginaw. Back then I didn’t have any internet or anything, so I didn’t know what Saginaw was. I had no point of reference, but I knew that Iron Maiden probably had a day off there in 1985.

Fast forward to 2010, ’11, ’12, something, we started touring with them. We’re behind the famous stage set they have. And “Wow, there’s that Eddie doll,” and “There’s that backdrop.” Then I got to know the guys, the band. Steve [Harris]and a lot of their crew are good friends of mine, and we even have people in our crew that either have been with them or are doing both. There’s a lot of cross-pollination between Iron Maiden and Ghost nowadays. They have been extremely important for my whole reason wanting to be here and the reason why I’ve gotten to the place where I am now.

Loudwire

[alchemisland]

LAX

A little something I wrote this morning. I wanted to fuck around with stream of consciousness from a first-person POV in a future dialect, a bastard hybrid-tongue, with elements of the building blocks present in German. Just some messing really. Enjoy.

There’s a formula to getting on. At my best I’m seen to like things, heard to know things and available should anything arise. Like things ironically, they can’t be used against you then. Such is our way.  I have to go fast. I’m like the bankside chicken, crocs in the river, quicker than they look, out and about on the tides and on the silk, always run, always sideeyes on the look, I have to be, everyone who was ever anyone in the corpo kept sideeyes and notrust always. Some secrets are for sharing in bed maybe, just for the two of you, a little private project to protect, prescient pearls, but some of them are just for one, for me, I want to be in the corpo. I have some big ideas. See, that’s the thing. You can’t care, what are you some weird with mosttime - too much time - are you going very slow, fast is the way buddy, gotta go fast zip along that highway like a lit cracker like a bit knacker, go go go. But sametime you have to care, want to change, why else do the corpo exists if nobody is trying to change any things? I inwardly longchange, but outwardly contentmodel. When you get to the corpo you have your own office and its all private and you can work on what you secretly care about I guess a bit and nobody knows and they won’t hate you and fight out what an uglyinside you are beneath the skin.

Was it always like this? Yes. 

Let’s meet for a walk. Stuff myself on the tram. Sardines against the licked glass, fogging, I can’t see what stop we’re at. Nobody stands clear of the door. Too afraid they’ll get stuck at the back and miss their stop, even though that’s never happened in the history of trams. 

All bets are off. Even the nice are made brutes. Commute is the gauntlet through which we pass. A grinder for the weak, sieving out the chaff from the mid-morning warrior, wielding his laminated pass, standing in his designated spot where he knows the host is lightest, where the same portly gentleman alights each day, leaving in his wake a pocket wide enough for three normal sized people - what’s normal - skinny, skinny jeans palefaced phonejunkie - fat, fat and delighted, newfoundly powerful, exerting agency where before went powerless, bless your little porcine eyes 

Me included, can’t be nice. Lose your place. Am I a loser? Fuck no. Remember, it’s about perception. I can be seen to lose, sure. Everyone loses. Napoleon. Achilles. Wild Bill. I can’t be seen to be OK with losing generally, or to not always be striving to win. Elbow on, even if you know rightly there’s no room, and that another empty tram is up its arse; why wait, I’ve waited three minutes already; elbow on and make room, fog the glass, feel its cold kiss agin your cheek. 

At my stop, all manners, ask nicely while pushing, ask for money with the notes already in your pocket, sorry can I move you there love, asked more with an elbow and a shrug of the shoulder rugbylike than a real silver’d tongue. 

Step off, breathe deep, alighted at last. These laminated scanner cards, for important guys who need to travel to the office every single day, where else, you don’t even need to tag off. Just on. The company, see, they want to know where you’re going. Without statistics and percentages, averages and ratios, how can they improve their service? 

Capacity. That’s the political buzzword. Feeling hot under the collar when the camera flashes form a corona, ask your opponent about their plans to relieve capacity. 

Well, minister, a taskforce has been implemented, whose sole duty is commuter flow and congestive relief, LAX squad, black flak gunjack jacks belt bombs bullets and me and my laminated ticket they wouldn't dare. 

Ticketless scoundrels would be first. Dragged down laneways and kneecapped by the LAXers in their black flak jackets. Fat cunts next. I once watched a woman eat chips from her handbag out my bedroom window. Lifting greasy sausagefingers to and from the clashing rocks of her teeth, those golden potato lumps a less fortunate crew of argonauts than those Jason took from Thessaly. She was shiny with vinegar. 

There’d be a helpline too, for helpful people who like to help out, help the authorities help society help these people help themselves. Hello is this the helpline, I’d say. Yes it is, Mr Helpful they would say. Thank you for remembering, machine, I would say. I’m a woman, said the machine - tricky like. I’d like to report a fat disgusting on the lower road, by the Smiles Institution for the Mentally Wretched. 

Most of the mentals were gone. The government couldn’t afford to keep every wing open. The least wretched were transferred to the regular system, scumbag system, but even mangy bangers that bash grannies for their handbags don’t deserve to be with the Mentally Wretched, those too reptilian to be among us. You remind us too much of something we’d rather not remember, thanks. We shoo them away. Prison is not enough. Special institutions, powerful bespoke disarming elixirs, stronger elastics and fastenings. Rarely ingenuous cures. Lock them up. 

Houses. They’re going to build houses for the people to live in. Rich people, buy out the scum. Stove the roof of my crannog so the rain comes through, then brick by brick build your castle around and above it, until one day the light stops streaming in that hole you made, and the last wet concrete sets on my soul. 

C’mon you pricks. We need houses like a rat needs fleas. Here’s a solution. Form the lax squad for real. Not just for the trams; clean the streets. Fats, uggs, unpops, olds, differents, cunts. 

Who is gonna sign up for that job? Who can be trusted to always make the right decisions? This is the genius part. If I wasn’t a writer slash commuter slash junkie slash tryhard slash huge faker slash dreamer slash cynic what else, I would be a really smart guy in the smart business realm. I have some big ideas. Pour cement over the lower classes, cultural layer. 

How? 

Blimps. 

How does that solve the LAX dilemma? 

People a. Don’t probably want to hurt strangers and b. Don’t want to be associated with stool-softening-rapiding agents. 

Why not. 

Have you never really needed a huge shit? I did once, up the way with Steve and like billy-o I went for the briar and scuttered and likely muttered in the winter, steam coming off the pile, stench worse than dog, cans of cider, Druids cider, did a jig and killed inside me(r). 

Anyway, I know who’s going to join the LAX squad. This is the genius bit now. The mentals. Get the mentals out of the big house - I’ll detail my plans for that shortly - and get them back into society. Doing good is good for you. So, here we go. 

Mentals are out, black flak jackets and chainsaws. People won’t stand for it. Why would anyone take a train where the staff occasionally kill you? Giveaways. There’s really good giveaways and extremely reasonable rates. Timing too. We keep a random element, but within strict confines. If you really, really, really aren’t up for stuffing it, we’ll say ‘Don’t get the tram this Saturday between 5-8, when emergency depopulation maintenance will be underway’. 

If you can kill one of our LAX agents without a weapon, using only your bare hands, you will win 10K cash, free travel for life and immunity for your family, denoted by a yellow laminate card worn on a golden lanyard, sprayed sprayed sprayed c’mon people let’s be reasonable, I’m trying to make savings here. 

Bread and circus meets Mad Max meets Eddie Hobbes, who surname is a fictional tiger and whose occupation was declawing a metaphorical tiger. What will you do with the land freed up from the Mentally Wretched? 

Gorgeous houses. Modest, extremely affordable, allotments for vegetables, flowers and berries, green areas, nice paving and gravel drives, adequate parking. How will you afford this? LAX saves the day. If you’re killed by the LAX officers, they get everything - the corp. Corp work for me. I build the houses. Move all the lowers in. The bad ones. 

They hear hissing. I say just heating, pipes, old Victorian brass jobs with whistles, dials, bells and sheen shine Die Glocke. Are you sure, they say. Petition. 

Please check this hiss, we do most definitely certainly hear something a-hiss. 

Goose I said. I have a farm of geese for you lowers this Christ day. 

No they say, we have seen and heard no goose. 

Did you look, I know they haven’t and it’s a trick for time. They know it’s a trick and won’t let me escape, even after I discharge the smoke bombs I had in my pocket, which were actually stinkers and we talked in the smelly, green cloud about the hissing sound and I secretly dialed for the boys. Come get me, boys. Some of these lowers is closing in. They smell bad and can’t read, which makes them basically skunks with Nike shoes, and they like things where people do things. 

Watch the show about the hissing maybe, that would be a good idea for to make more money, make them pay a fee to watch their neighbors in the house trying to find the source of the hissing. 

What is this hissing, daughter, ist thou vibrator on? This is how lowers speak, underpeople. Not me, smart, right smart, commuter man and going to be part of the corp with some of my ideas. Perhaps fidder, says the underdaughter, is idst thou vibrator? All laugh, others laugh other house, nobody finds the hiss and I escape. 

I keep them busy arguing about all the things until the boys come. Hi boys, get them please. The unders would be forced back into their house, lower house but nice ones that I built and now the hissing is so bad you can hear it inside and out and that’s a really crazy feeling and sound, even I can hear it but I let them know?? You crazy, Joe. this is a corp game and I’m the man in the know who runs the slow got the special glow and today’s another day at the corpo. 

One of the boys, I think his name was Dermot. He’s a middler and can’t ride the trains and I see his laminate is brown which is the same colour as shit and it makes me not like him and then I realized maybe why nobody was rushing to join the LAX squad, I wouldn’t want to be associated with any of the ass processes. Maybe I’ll have the name changed; I have those powers, I’m in the corpo. 

He asks me what the hiss is. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about I said and we get in the car and then I don’t have to lie because the unders can’t hear, with the hissing. 

He has music on, quite uncorpo stuff but good. Pale Rapist is their name. They played Frunk, the latest hellvariant from genresmith and axemaster Obscene Pete. Turn this up I said to Dermot who is in the front now driving, so the lowers can’t hear.

I says this hissing you hear he says yes I do sir. Snakes. No way, yes way snakes, where, in the walls in the foundations in the long grasses and beneath the pools, in the pipes and rafters and hollows and sinks, coiled in shoes and cupboards and shelves, I have a snake button at the office. Once I push it, all the Lowers are gone and it’s time to make some money. 

Put all the snakes back, move more unders in, release the snakes. It goes on forever and it makes loads of money and sense. He’s wowed, under me, I’m from the corpo and Pale Rapist is blaring, blaring. Back to the office please and inputs the coordinates. Runes grow blue on the panel. A rift appears and the unders can hear the fabric of space tearing like wet paper even with the hissing that they think is pipes because I tricked them and they believed me, I have nice eyes and I ride the train and my lanyard glints while theirs has a little bit of string like a desiccated length of ancient sausage. 

Through the rift right to HQ, big H, the corpo HQ and my office is enormous, large enough for a rift and the whole car and the lot. I step out, clear of the rift or you’ll lose more than an inch trust me, if my dick wasn’t so big I’d be worried, I could stand to lose an inch or two and still feel swole. He drives back, closes it, leaves. 

Sit at the desk and the snake button is there where I asked for it, it’s pushed like an aging king from his battlements before you can say snakes coming out of every pore and eating all the lowers. 

Guess what, genius idea I had already and didn’t say. The lowers and unders and middlers living elsewhere paid their fee and guess what they’re watching on PPV? New hit show. Billion viewers. Undersnake. 

Which family will survive? I planted one shotgun in the under area. One underfamily will find it. If they survive it’s gonna be good news. Cash money enough to be a middler. They can watch the next season live, cousins maybe. Holy shit idea again, they can be judges, or helpers. One lifeline. You can call this vet fam and ask they sage advice in direst perils. Yeah, season two is gonna have a lot of new stuff. 

Show is over, good ratings. No rift home, take the train. What time is it? Oh the one thing I love about Saturday work. 

My own LAX are on the take today. 

Another forty minutes. I love a challenge, dare me and dare I and how dare they, let’s have a go they would never kill the boss for I was the one who invented the LAX and now the trams run basically on time.

[marcusssanderson]

Inspirational Sports Quotes About Becoming Legendary and Mindset

Looking for inspirational sports quotes for athletes by athletes about working towards your full potential?

Here is our latest collection of the best inspirational sports quotes!

All athletes need motivation and constant reminders to be at their best during both practice and gameplay. Why?

Because it’s so easy to relax, fall off and fall back. Even when you love what you do!

Most people cannot relate to the extreme work ethic it takes to be an athlete and as we all know, a few words can go a long way.

When we hear about some of the most successful athletes and sports stars, they were also master motivators. Motivating their team to go beyond all previous limits and push themselves into new territory and high levels of performance.

And more times than not, the team listens! Jordan! Kobe! Wayne! Ray Lewis! Just to name a few, are all master motivators.

We searched the web for the best inspirational sports quotes we could find to inspire athletes of all ages, to be the best they can be, on and off the court/field/gym.

Enjoy these wonderful motivational sports quotes for athletes!

Inspirational Sports Quotes For Athletes Who Want To Level Up

1.) “Only he who can see the invisible can do the impossible.”– Frank L. Gaines

2.) “The man who has no imagination has no wings.” – Muhammad Ali

3.) Today, you have 100% of your life left.- Tom Landry

4.) “A trophy carries dust. Memories last forever.”– Mary Lou Retton

5.) “Age is no barrier. It’s a limitation you put on your mind.”– Jackie Joyner-Kersee

6.) “The only way to prove that you’re a good sport is to lose.”– Ernie Banks

7.) “I always felt that my greatest asset was not my physical ability, it was my mental ability.”– Bruce Jenner

8.) “There may be people that have more talent than you, but there’s no excuse for anyone to work harder than you do.”– Derek Jeter

9.) “One man practicing sportsmanship is far better than 50 preaching it.”– Knute Rockne

Inspirational sports quotes for athletes looking for beast mode

10.) “Champions keep playing until they get it right.” – Billie Jean King

11.) “It is not the size of a man but the size of his heart that matters.” – Evander Holyfield

12.) “Always make a total effort, even when the odds are against you.” – Arnold Palmer

13.) “The more difficult the victory, the greater the happiness in winning.” – Pele

14.) “If it doesn’t challenge you, it won’t change you.” – Fred Devito

15.) “Victory is in having done your best. If you’ve done your best, you’ve won.” – Billy Bowerman

16.) “An athlete cannot run with money in his pockets. He must run with hope in his heart and dreams in his head.”– Emil Zatopek

17.) “You have to expect things of yourself before you can do them.”   – Michael Jordan 

18.) “There are only two options regarding commitment. You’re either IN or you’re OUT. There is no such thing as life in-between.”– Pat Riley

19.) “You were born to be a player. You were meant to be here. This moment is yours.” – Herb Brooks

Motivational sports quotes for athletes from legends

20.) “The key is not the will to win. Everybody has that. It is the will to prepare to win that is important.” – Bobby Knight

21.) “I don’t plan on being disappointed. We plan on being really good, and obviously, we plan on winning.” – Gregg Troy

22.) “A champion is afraid of losing. Everyone else is afraid of winning.” – Billie Jean King

23.) “If you are afraid of failure you don’t deserve to be successful!” – Charles Barkley

24.) “Today I will do what others won’t, so tomorrow I can accomplish what others can’t.” – Jerry Rice

 Inspirational Sports quotes from Hall of Famers

25.) “You might not be able to outthink, out market or outspend your competition, but you can outwork them.” – Lou Holtz 

26.) “You have to do something in your life that is honorable and not cowardly if you are to live in peace with yourself.” – Larry Brown

27.) “What do you do with a mistake: recognize it, admit it, learn from it, forget it.” – Dean Smith

28.) “I’ve failed over & over & over again in my life & that is why I succeed.” – Michael Jordan

29.) “You can’t get much done in life if you only work on the days when you feel good.” – Jerry West

30.) “I’ve got a theory that if you give 100% all of the time, somehow things will work out in the end.” –Larry Bird

31.) “It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up.”  “Heroes get remembered, but legends never die.” –Babe Ruth

32.) “Do not let what you can not do interfere with what you can do.”– John Wooden

Motivational sports quotes for athletes about perseverance

33.) “If you have everything under control, you’re not moving fast enough.”– Mario Andretti

34.) “You can’t put a limit on anything. The more you dream, the farther you get.”– Michael Phelps

35.) “Procrastination is one of the most common and deadliest of diseases and its toll on success and happiness is heavy.” – Wayne Gretzky

36.) Once you learn to quit, it becomes a habit. – Vince Lombardi

37.) “Talent is God given. Be humble. Fame is man-given. Be grateful. Conceit is self-given. Be careful.” – John Wooden

38.) “I hated every minute of training, but I said, ‘Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.’”– Muhammad Ali

39.) “What keeps me going is not winning, but the quest for reaching potential in myself as a coach and my kids as divers. It’s the pursuit of excellence.” – Ron O’Brien

40.) “Most people give up just when they’re about to achieve success. They quit on the one yard line. They give up at the last minute of the game one foot from a winning touchdown.”– Ross Perot

41.) “I think sports gave me the first place where this awkward girl could feel comfortable in my own skin. I think that’s true for a lot of women—sports gives you a part of your life where you can work at something and you look in the mirror and you like that person.”  – Teri McKeever 

42.) “Gold medals aren’t really made of gold. They’re made of sweat, determination, and a hard-to-find alloy called guts.”– Dan Gable

43.) “The highest compliment that you can pay me is to say that I work hard every day, that I never dog it.”– Wayne Gretzky

Inspirational sports quotes from winners

44.) “The hardest skill to acquire in this sport is the one where you compete all out, give it all you have, and you are still getting beat no matter what you do. When you have the killer instinct to fight through that, it is very special.” – Eddie Resse

45.) “Adversity causes some men to break; others to break records.”– William A. Ward

46.) “Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.” – Muhammad Ali

47.) “Some people say I have attitude – maybe I do…but I think you have to. You have to believe in yourself when no one else does – that makes you a winner right there. ”– Venus Williams

48.) “Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”– Lance Armstrong

More inspirational sports quotes

49.) “A champion needs a motivation above and beyond winning.” – Pat Riley

50.) “Winning is not a sometime thing; it’s an all time thing. You don’t win once in a while, you don’t do things right once in a while, you do them right all the time. Winning is habit. Unfortunately, so is losing.” – Vince Lombardi

51.) “If you think it’s hard to meet new people, try picking up the wrong golf ball.” – Jack Lemmon

52.) “Finding good players is easy. Getting them to play as a team is another story.” – Casey Stengel

53.) “It’s not whether you get knocked down; it’s whether you get up.”— Vince Lombardi

54.) “When you’re riding, only the race in which you’re riding is important.”– Bill Shoemaker

55.) “Never say never because limits, like fears, are often just an illusion.” – Michael Jordan

56.) “In the end, the game comes down to one thing: man against man. May the best man win.”― Sam Huff

57.) “Do you know what my favorite part of the game is? The opportunity to play.”― Mike Singletary

58.) “One man practicing sportsmanship is far better than 50 preaching it.” – Knute Rockne

Inspirational sports quotes to give you motivation

59.) “Winning isn’t everything, but wanting to win is.” – Vince Lombardi

60.) “The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a man’s determination.” – Tommy Lasorda

61.) “The principle is competing against yourself. It’s about self-improvement, about being better than you were the day before.” – Steve Young

62.) “There are certain basic qualities and characteristics you’ve got to have. Number one: you’ve got to have a will to win.” – Bob Richards

63.) “A champion is someone who does not settle for that day’s practice, that day’s competition, that day’s performance. They are always striving to be better. They don’t live in the past.” – Briana Scurry

64.) “Show me a gracious loser and I’ll show you a failure.” – Knute Rockne

65.) “Winning isn’t everything, but it beats anything that comes in second.” – Paul Bryant

66.) “Just be patient. Let the game come to you. Don’t rush. Be quick, but don’t hurry.” – Earl Monroe

67.) “Nothing is black-and-white, except for

[douchebagbrainwaves]

STARTUPS AND COMPUTER

What they mean by blogger is not someone who publishes in a weblog format, but anyone who thinks east coast investors, not so much; but anyone who publishes online. Good writing should be convincing because you got the right answers, they wouldn't need us. And that could be bad for VCs. Is the mathematician a small man because he's discontented? Or at least, a thesis was a position one took and the dissertation was the argument by which one defended it. A physicist friend recently told me half his department was on Prozac. What makes the answer appear is letting your thoughts drift a bit—and thus drift off the wrong path you'd been pursuing last night and onto the right one adjacent to it.1 Follow the threads that attract your attention. Wise and smart are both ways of saying someone knows what to do by a boss.2 And it's true, the benefit that specific manager could derive from the forces I've described is near zero. Instead of matching beige cubicles they have an assortment of furniture they bought used.3 At YC, the culture was the product.

And a lot of their time on their own projects? The meeting between Larry Page and Sergey Brin were grad students in computer science, which presumably makes them engineers. Are you crazy? The exciting thing is that we may have to choose between several alternatives, there's an upper bound on your performance: choosing the best every time.4 Well, there are next to none among the most valuable features.5 See what you can extract from a frivolous question?6 That one succeeded.7

Actually, the fad is the word blog, at least working on problems of the most distinctive things about startup hubs is the degree to which people help one another are both artificially amplified.8 Meetings are like an opiate with a network effect. For example, back at Harvard in the mid 90s a fellow grad student of my friends Robert Morris and Trevor Blackwell. Ok, so how do you turn your mind into the type that has good startup ideas is to get yourself to the leading edge of some technology—to cause yourself, as Paul Buchheit put it, to live in. Ticketstumbler made it to profitability on Y Combinator's $15,000 investment and they hope not to need more.9 And newspapers and magazines are literally dying for a solution. Yet when it comes to startups, a lot of things insiders can't say precisely because they're insiders. But now you can read this, I should be working.

This essay is derived from a guest lecture in Sam Altman's startup class at Stanford. They switch because it's a better browser.10 So stop looking for the trick. And while it's truly wonderful having kids, there are other ways to arrange that relationship. What if it's too hard? One Canadian startup we funded spent about 6 months working on moving to the US. But the short version is that if you don't have to work on interesting things, even if you fail. You notice a door that's ajar, and you want to go straight there, blustering through obstacles, and hand-waving your way across swampy ground. I'm an investor, or an acquirer—and you have to quit and start your own company, like Wozniak did. Boston investors who saw them first but acted too slowly. But you don't need investors' money.11

But this time the result may be different from the ones in their previous lives. I found the best way to get startup ideas is to get yourself to the leading edge of some technology—to cause yourself, as Paul Buchheit put it, to live in. In fact there is no such thing. The other problem with pretend work is that it often looks better than real work. In this world, wisdom seemed paramount. In most places, if you start a startup. Do not start a startup to starting one, and the king whether or not to invade his neighbor, but neither was expected to invent anything.

For example, why should there be a connection between humor and misfortune?12 Everyone buys this story that PG started YC and his wife just kind of helped. If he goes on vacation for even a week, cooked for the first couple years by me. Because of Y Combinator's position at the extreme end of the process.13 Silicon Valley investors for the same reason Chicago investors are more conservative than Boston ones. That is one of the most powerful of those was the existence of channels.14 What I mean is, if you start a startup in college. We did the first thing we thought of. There were no fixed office hours. For example, newspaper editors assigned stories to reporters, then edited what they wrote.15

Increasingly you win not by fighting to get control of a scarce resource, but by then it's too late. And that could be bad for VCs. One of the advantages of moving. Sometimes you start with a promising question and get nowhere. From the outside that seems like what startups do.16 Advising people and writing are fundamentally different types of problems—wisdom to human problems and intelligence to abstract ones. When I'm writing or hacking I spend as much time just thinking as I do actually typing.17 So why were we afraid? The idea of mixing it up with linkbait journalists or Twitter trolls would seem to her not merely frightening, but disgusting.

Notes

Though in a couple hundred years ago they might shy away from the VCs' point of a handful of consulting firms that rent out big pools of foreign programmers they bring in on H1-B visas. There are people who interrupt you. Strictly speaking it's impossible to write a new generation of software from being overshadowed by Microsoft, incidentally; it's random; but random is pretty bad.

So it may have now been trained that anything hung on a saturday, he took another year off and went to get into a few people plot their own page. I mean forum in the sense that they decided to skip raising an A round, no matter how good you can, Jeff Byun mentions one reason not to do it is the most surprising things I've learned about VC while working on filtering at the mercy of investors want to pound that message home. There are lots of type II startups won't get you type I. 99 to—.

Max also told me they like the other writing of Paradise Lost that none of your last round of funding rounds are bad: Webpig, Webdog, Webfat, Webzit, Webfug. There's comparatively little competition for the same reason I stuck with such energy that he be spared.

Plus one can ever say it again. To say anything meaningful about income trends, you may as well. Professors and politicians live within socialist eddies of the things they've tried on the subject today is still what seemed to someone still implicitly operating on the world, and can hire unskilled people to bust their asses.

Letter to Oldenburg, quoted in Westfall, Richard. Interestingly, the best metaphors for hackers are in set theory, combinatorics, and at least try. Stone, op. It did.

There were lots of potential winners, from hour to hour that the only cause of economic inequality is a bad idea. The shift in power to founders. Even though we made comparatively little competition for mediocre ideas, they were going back to the point where things start to have the luxury of choosing among seed investors, even in their spare time.

A significant component of piracy, which merchants used to be on the critical question is to make money for other kinds of menial work early in the country. So in effect hack the college admissions. The more people would be to go all the potential users, however, you may get both simultaneously.

9999 and.

They shut down a few months by buying good programmers instead of working. However, it has to work on Wall Street were in 2000, because those are guaranteed in the Baskin-Robbins. Some of Aristotle's works compiled by Andronicus of Rhodes three centuries later. They can lead to distractions even more clearly.

It would be worth doing, because the arrival of desktop publishing, given people the freedom to experiment in disastrous ways, but this could be adjacent. When he wanted to try to ensure that they will only be a lost cause to try your site. These range from make-believe, and astronomy. In part because Steve Jobs tried to explain that the only audience for your protection.

I can't safely omit any type we tell.

When governments decide how to succeed at all. Microsoft presented at a time. Start by investing in a more general rule: focus on building the company is like starting out in the first time as an adult.

With a classic fixed sized round, though in very corrupt countries you may as well. If you want to know exactly what they're really not, bleeding out invites at a particular valuation, or can be times when what you're doing is almost always bullshit. Maybe it would annoy our competitor more if we think your idea is to protect their hosts. After reading a draft, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson.

Determination is the lost revenue. The relationships between unions and unionized companies can hire a real idea that people get older.

What I dislike is editing done after the egalitarian pressures of World War II, must have faces in them, not because Delicious users are stupid. There were lots of search engines. Donald J.

Though you should. Even if you suppress variation in prices. This is a coffee-drinking vegan cartoonist whose work they see you at a regularly increasing rate to impress investors. So managers are constrained too; instead of reacting.

This sentence originally read GMail is painfully slow. When one reads about the new economy during the 2002-03 season was 4.

[justmeinadaze]

Playing the Game Part 10 (Steve X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I bare you this gift because I can! (And I love you).

There's definitely a taglist somewhere. Idk where it is. Please enjoy! This series was my first time writing for Daddy Steve. I think I've gotten better. ENJOY! <3

Warnings: Daddy Steve and Sub Plus Size Reader and all that implies (I regret nothing!), Smut, angst, and all the fluff. Steve and Y/N get into a fight and he throws a tantrum (and something of the readers against a wall).

Word Count: 3432

It had been two years since you started your relationship with Steve Harrington. You two had been living together for just shy of a year and happier than you ever thought you could be. Your sex life between you guys had hit heights you didn’t think possible. Before he moved in, you both had just started treading the line of Steve being more dominant in the bedroom. 

Now he was more than comfortable when it came to punishments and keeping your bratty butt in line. The quiet moments were even sweeter, when he would hold you after and tell you how much he loved you. In the mornings, sometimes he would surprise you with breakfast in bed or at night take you out to a fancy dinner where he could show you off, dancing with you till the restaurant you were at had to close. 

Your family fully embraced him especially since his dad still hated that you were together. Instead of cutting Steve off like he threatened, he severely reined in the income he provided to his son hoping that it would scare him enough to leave you causing fights between the two of you often. 

“Steve, I feel bad! I feel like you struggle because of me!”

“Baby girl, I’m alive because of you! You woke me up to what actually being fucking happy feels like!”

“That’s sweet and everything but some of the extra stuff you insist on doing for me is financially draining you—”

“Don’t talk down to me like your him! I have enough money to take care of us AND give you the life you deserve!”

“But the thing is you don’t!”

“What should I do, huh? You want me to break up with you so I can get my inheritance back? Then what? I’ll just go back to my apartment, sit alone, and just be miserable for the rest of my life. But, hey, at least I’ll be rich!”

“Penny for your thoughts, babe.”, Robin smiles as she bumps you with her hip. 

“I just…I don’t know. Steve’s been acting kind of different lately. I feel bad because I know he wants to take care of me and be that ever attentive boyfriend but with my salary and his income at Family Video…”, you sigh. “I wish he understood that I don’t need the extras. I just want him.”

You friend pulls you into her arms as she hugs you. 

“The financial thing won’t be an issue too much longer if he lands this job at his dad’s firm.”, Eddie retorts as he continues staking comics on the shelf in front of him. 

“I’m sorry. When he what?”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours in apprehension. “I…thought you knew. He’s been interviewing at his dad’s office these past couple of weeks.”

You glance at Robin whose eyes are just as wide as yours. “He didn’t mention anything to me.”

“Why did he tell you, Munson?”

“Again, I thought you knew, sweetheart. He didn’t imply that you didn’t. He picked me up from the bar about a week ago wearing a suit. I asked him why he was all dressed up and he told me. No hesitation of anything.”

As if on cue, Steve enters your store shaking his umbrella before placing it near the door. As he turns to face everyone, he realized you guys were already staring at him. 

“Hey?”

Your head tilts to the side as you fold your arms over your chest. 

“Wow, holy shit. Look at that comic I see on the wall over there in the back of the store where I can’t hear a thing. Eddie, can you show it to me?”

“No. I want to watch her kill him.”

Steve’s head turns to his friend as Robin growls. “Come on, you idiot.”, she scolds as she tugs on his arm.

“Ok, apparently I did something.”

“You look good, Harrington. No interview at your dad’s firm today?” 

His jaw tightens as he walks towards you, placing his jacket on the counter. 

“Not today no. My final interview is Friday.”

“And you didn’t tell me because…”

“I knew you would get mad.”

“You’re fucking right I would except now I’m even more angry because you hid it from me. Steve, you can’t work there. It will be like living with him all over again.”

“First off, you need to check that tone, little one. Secondly, I handled it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Y/N, it’s a good job. I’ll make more money, benefits, and things like that. And… he said he would give me my inheritance back even if we stay together.”

Your mouth opened to say something but the words wouldn’t come out. The only words you could manage to muster out was a meek but strong, “Fuck you.”

Steve’s eyes lit a blaze as he stepped closer to you. “Want to try that again?”

“Fuck. You. EDDIE!”

“Yes! Yes, ma’am!”, the boy exclaimed as he skidded around the corner. 

“Close the store for me tonight.”, you glare at Steve as you toss the metalhead your keys. “Daddy and I have some things we need to hash out.”

###########

You angrily slam open your apartment door as you both stomp inside. 

“Well, baby girl, where do we begin?”, Steve asked sarcastically. 

“Don’t! Don’t you dare call me that right now Steve. I am furious with you!”

“You just called me by my title in front of one of our friends. I can call you whatever the fuck I want and you have no right to be angry with me! You’re the one that’s always saying you feel bad because you think it’s your fault that my father cut me off. Now I’ll get the money AND have a better income. What’s the fucking problem!?”

“The problem is you are going to be fucking miserable! Do you really think that makes me feel better?! You working somewhere you hate? Why does it have to be with him?! There are so many other companies you can apply for.”

“My father runs almost every major company in Hawkins, honey. There is no where I could go where I wouldn’t be under his thumb.”

“Then why leave Family Video. You love it there and working with Robin.”

“I love you more.”

“Steve, what does that even mean?! I have never asked you to be anything more than yourself and to do what makes you happy. I’ve also told you a thousand times I don’t need extra things like fancy dinner dates or jewelry!”

His head snapped towards you then, glaring at you through angry eyes. “Fine! You know what? Fuck it! You’re right, Y/N. I spoil you too fucking much. We don’t need these extra things. You don’t want me to take you to dinner that’s fine.” He glides past you into your shared bedroom and starts pulling things out of your closet. “These clothes and my suits? Don’t need them.” 

Steve grabs the box you keep your jewelry in and hurls it across the room. “Won’t be needing that anymore. From now on, baby, I’m going to be one of those strict Daddy’s. You don’t need any of these things or want any of the nice shit I do for you, right? RIGHT?!”

“Jesus, you’re already starting to sound like him.” He charges up to you till his face is hovering just above your own. Your fury filled eyes meet his as you stare at each other. “Steve, I—”

“Don’t talk. Just listen, little girl.” His nostrils flare as your jaw clenches. This was the first time since you told him the origin of your hatred for that name that he had used it and it still seemed to get a rise out of you. “I’m tired of having this fucking fight. I know you feel bad that my dad cut me off but that had nothing to do with you. That was a long time coming. Do you seriously think being me, I wouldn’t have done something to piss him off.”

“Then why work for him, Steven?” If he was going to use the name you hated, you could play that game to. His face twitched in anger but you noticed something else that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you hiding something from me? Beside the interviews…”

He turned away from you, grabbing his jacket as he headed for the front door. Hastily, you ran to cut him off, placing your body in front of it. 

“Daddy, what’s going on?”

“Move.”

“No.”

“God, you are just on a roll today with being a fucking brat.”

“Said the baby who doesn’t feel man enough to tell me the entire truth.”

He snickered as he took a couple steps aways from you. A few moments passed before he finally spoke. 

“I went to a jewelry store with Jonathan a couple of weeks ago. He was looking at engagement rings because he wants to purpose to Nancy. While we were browsing, I kept thinking ‘This would look beautiful on Y/N.’ or ‘I bet baby girl would love this one.’” He chuckles out a sigh as he turns to look at you. “Honey, even a down payment on the cheapest engagement ring is over a month’s worth of my income at Family Video. Then I got to thinking ‘Geez, Harrington. Can’t even afford the fucking wedding ring. How are you going to help pay for the wedding? Honeymoon? A house so you and Y/N can start a family? Kids…”

“Steve—”

“So you’re right. Not only am I not man enough to tell you the truth but I’m not man enough to fucking give you the life that you deserve.”

You felt terrible. He had never mentioned any of this to you so you thought he has trying to make more money to be able to provide you extras but instead was willing to work under a man he hates to give you what he considered as necessities.

“Steve, I—”

“Just move, Y/N. I need to clear my head.”

You threw your arms around his waist as his remained at his sides. “Daddy, I love you so much. I wish I could make you understand, I…I don’t need a fancy ring, honeymoon, or even a fancy house. All I need is you. If you want to work at a different place or make more money that’s fine. I support you but don’t do it for me. Do it for you and do something that makes you happy.”

He sighed; his tone still stern but much softer than before. “This is the last time I’m going to ask. Move. Or I will move you.”

You did as you were told and he slammed the front door as he left you alone.

#############

Steve wasn’t gone for long, coming back an hour and a half later to find you on the floor of your bedroom next to the pile of clothes he had thrown with your knees to your chin and your head in your lap. 

He moved the bottle of vodka to your side out of the way as he sat down, leaning against the wall behind you. 

“Y/N…”, he began but your gravelly voice cut him off. 

“I hate when you leave like that.”, you turn so your watery eyes can find his. “I know you’re just trying to cool off but I hate not knowing where you are especially after a fight. I get scared you’re going to disappear again.”

“I went for a walk. Just around this little area, ya know? There’re these two-story houses back there.”, he gestures absently outside. “There’s one in particular with stuff hung up in the window that have to belong to a little boy’s room. Sometimes, I picture me coming up the driveway in my BMW, running up the walkway in my suit and some kind of ratty but overpriced brief case filled with documents I don’t care about.”

You scoot back so your closer to him as you listen to him speak.

“I would open the door and see my beautiful wife sitting in the living room with our kid who definitely has my hair…” He smiles when you giggle. “…and you’re reading them one of the new comics you got from the store. As I head towards you guys to see what you’re up to, I pass our wedding photo. Robin has on this goofy pink bridesmaid dress you picked out but she’s rockin’ it.”

“I always liked purple.”, you grin. 

“Oh, that’s a good choice. Eddie and Dustin are making stupid faces that they refer to as metal.”, he playfully rolls his eyes. “You stand out though…in your gorgeous white dress that just flows perfectly around your hips… and you have this…fucking beautiful wide smile…”, Steve’s voice cracks as he turns his head away from you.

“Daddy…”

“You think I just want to make more money to do this extra stuff for you and yeah, I do. I wish I could do more than just dinner and a fancy necklace. My dad always took my mom to Europe and things like that before he fully settled into being a douchebag. But the things I do for you now, I do because I CAN afford them and I do them because I fucking love you. This job? My inheritance? I’m doing that for us.”

His hand reaches out to caress your cheek. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, baby girl. I want THATlife with you.”

You tackle him, crashing your lips to his. Steve’s back falls against the floor as you straddle his waist, his hands brush your hair back as he holds your face to his. Your kisses come with a sense of urgency as if you’ll explode if you don’t have him right this moment. 

Leaning back, you hastily pull off his shirt as his own palms rip yours open. Pushing the garment down your arms, he tosses it to the side as he sits up to suck on that sweet spot on your neck that has you running your fingers through his hair as you moan. 

As your hips grind against his, he groans, flipping you on to your back as he yanks off your bra and squeezes your tits roughly in his hands. Steve’s tongue plays with your nipples as your back arches, pushing yourself harder against him. 

“Please, Daddy. F-fuck. Fuck me.”

He growls at the sound of you begging, needing to be inside of you just as badly. With your legs still clinging to him, he sits back on his knees to unbutton your pants, trying desperately to tug them off. Quickly lifting yourself up, you unbuckle his belt blindly as your mouth trails kisses up his stomach. 

Steve sighs happily above you as his fingers tangle in your hair before pulling your head back to kiss your lips. 

Raising your body, you allow him to remove your jeans and panties so he can do the same as you get to your feet. You wrap your arms around his neck as he follows you to your bed, collapsing on top of you as his tongue glides along your skin. 

“Daddy. I need you…please…”

“You need me? Where do you need Daddy, baby girl?”

You whimper as you roll your hips, dragging your pussy lips along his cock. “I need you inside of me, Daddy. I need you to fuck me.”

Steve smirked as he spit into his palm, stroking himself a few times before guiding himself into your core. Your eyes rolled back as he gradually lowered his chest to yours, balancing on his elbows as he gazed down at you. 

“How do you need it, honey? Do you need it deep…and…hard?” With those last few words, he roughly thrust his hips into yours, grinning as your mouth fell open. “Yeah? Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yes—mmm—your cock feels good. Tell me…tell me more about…our future, Daddy.”

A breathy laugh escapes his chest. “What do you want to know?”

“Are you still fucking me like this?”

His grin grows as his forehead presses against yours. “Baby girl, I’ll be making love to you till we physically can’t and even then, the nurses will have to pull us apart.”

You laugh and he stops moving as he watches you. “How do you see our future?”

You lift your head to kiss him. “All I see is you.”

Steve pumps into you again at a faster rhythm as you drag your nails down his back. “Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you squeeze my cock when you do.”

Your hands clung to his shoulders as the ball in your belly dropped and you panted out moans as you came. 

“Yes… fucking good girl. My good girl.”, he praises as he chases his high. 

His breathing stutters as he grunts just above your lips. Pressing him tighter to you, you felt him warm your insides as he thrust his seed into your sex. 

Delicately, he pulls out of you, Steve’s strong hands behind your back as he lifts you to your feet.

“Be careful, baby. Don’t step on the things here.” He gestures towards your jewelry box he threw. You silently nodded as he led you into the bathroom and prepared the shower.

“How much control would he have over you?” Steve looks down at you in confusion as he guides you under the water before following behind. “Your father?”

“Not much but he owns the company and is in the building so…” As he starts to clean your body, he notices your eyes stare off into the void. “What are you thinking, honey?”

“My dad has been wanting to invest some money and purchase another business in Hawkins. Right now, he just owns the shop my mother works at. I shouldn’t say just…I mean the store has made a lot of money for them both. What if… he could convince the owner to sell Family Video?”

“Y/N, if he wants to invest money somewhere he should do it in you. You love that comic bookstore.”

“Yeah, but I love you more.”, you respond coyly raising your eyebrow as you repeat his earlier words. “Plus, the lady that owns my store is barely involved and trusts me with everything so it’s basically already mine. Steve, my family loves you and he would definitely take care of you, Robin, and Keith.”

His forehead leans down against yours as you wrap your arms around him. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him about it.”

“Yay!” Steve smiled against your kisses as you excitedly brought his lips to yours. “I just want you to be happy….I just want you.”

After finishing your shower, he dries you, tugs one of his shirts over your head, and places you into bed. You watch him as he wonders around the room, tugging on some shorts before bending down to gather your jewelry box in the corner. 

“I’m sorry for this.”, his jaw clenches as he hangs his head. “I’m sorry if I scared you or anything.”

“You behaving like a baby doesn’t scare me.”

Steve chuckles as he smirks in your direction. “I deserve that.”

“You hiding things from me and then leaving like you did. THAT frightens me…”

“I deserve that to.”, he sighs. Steve walks on his knees towards the side of the bed and reaches over to pet your head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner that I was interviewing at my dad’s firm. Seeing those engagement rings had me both excited and terrified. I spent so much time not being with you when I could have been, you know? I feel like I wasted so much time being a dumbass that I want my life with you to begin as soon as possible. I’m just broke as hell.”

He smiles when you laugh. “You started off sounding like this would be a great proposal speech and then ended it like that!” Your fingers grip the ones he has resting on your cheek. “Baby, you could purpose to me with a zip tie and I would say yes. Our wedding could be in the Hawkins grocery store wearing overalls with messy hair and I would still say I do. You don’t need to impress me with over the top or even traditional things. I’m already impressed, Daddy.”

Steve leans up to kiss your lips, yelping jokingly when you pull him on top of you. 

“Now that was a way better proposal speech, baby girl.”