#i wonder where steve gets his taste in men from

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.4K] request from anon: what about Steve teaching reader how to really kiss? Like she’s only ever had bad ones before? 

“Sloppy?” Steve grimaced, smiling through your word choice despite the disappointment he felt for you. 

You shrugged, nose crinkled as you remembered. “Yeah. Wet, y’know? And not like— it was just too much…tongue.”

There was a silence, a sad kind that filled the room. Steve wasn’t sure what to say. You kind of regretted telling the boy. So you sighed and shrugged it off again, biting the head off of red Sour Patch Kid.

“Maybe I just don’t like making out,” you sounded defeated and Steve hated it, frowning as he watched you chew your candy mournfully, your back pressed to the side of his unmade bed. “That’s normal, right? Like, some people just don’t like things like that and—”

“Hey, hey,” Steve knocked his foot against yours, legs stretched out across his bedroom floor. The pack of playing cards had been abandoned beside some unopened twizzlers and Steve’s can of cherry soda. “Look, of course that’s normal. And— and if that’s how you feel, that’s totally okay, alright?”

The boy hesitated, worried his bottom lip between his teeth and wondered if he should keep talking. You watched him, brows raised expectantly. 

“I just think—” Steve cleared his throat, his pointer finger dragging patterned across his carpet. He shrugged, all faux nonchalance. He didn’t want to sound like a creep, not to his best friend. Not to you. “I just think that maybe you’ve not had a good kiss, y’know?”

You didn’t answer, not right away. And Steve didn’t try and backtrack, or explain himself, he just waited, watching you think. His bedroom window was open, the sounds of the early evening slipping through. Someone’s backyard pool filter, their sprinklers out the front, the quiet spin of a kids bike going down the sidewalk.  

You didn’t look at Steve when you finally asked, “well, what is a good kiss?”

You felt stupid, asking such a thing at your age but maybe you’d grown up picking all the wrong kinds of guys. Impatient boys, greedy boys, selfish boys. Boys who turned into men who didn’t have the time of day to take it slow with a girl like you. Boys who thought they were men, who used too much teeth and tongue and pressure and tasted like cheap party beer and the leftover smoke of their cigarette. 

Guys who got too handsy too quick, guys who didn’t care that when they pulled away from your lips, you swiped the back of your hand over your mouth and tried not to frown. 

Steve shifted a little, cheeks turning pink as his eyes found yours. “Well,” he gestured at you, awkward. His gaze settled on your lips before he blinked and looked away. “I mean, it helps when you really like the person, y’know? The uh, the chemistry of it all.”

You swallowed, throat feeling tight, chest feeling too warm. You remember Nancy talking about those kinds of feelings when she first kissed Jonathan, a dopey, soft smile on her lips as she recounted it, telling you of the buzz under her skin, the flips that her stomach did when he leaned in to meet her, eyes closing. 

“Sure,” you agreed. You don’t think you’d ever felt that way about the boys you had kissed. “Right.”  

“But I guess you’re supposed to take your time with it? I mean, at first, when you’re getting to know someone.” Steve smiled, soft, reassuring. His knee knocked yours. “You find out what they like.”

“What they like?” You asked, voice cracking a little. You didn’t know where to look, what to do with your hands. You picked up a green sour patch and bit its leg. “What does that mean?”

Steve looked bashful, miles apart from the boy you’d know in high school, with a girl on his arm in the hallways, a different one in his lap at a party that weekend. 

“I’d, uh, I mean— person A would go slow with person B, right? They’d start soft. Gentle, I guess? You gotta— they’d have to figure out how the other person likes to be kissed. Not everyone shoves their tongue down your throat, y’know.”

You huffed out a laugh but it sounded weak, too breathy. You wanted the boy to keep talking, you wanted to watch his pink cheeks and his pretty eyes dart across your face, like he was searching for something. 

You wondered if he’d find it. 

“Not everyone?” You whispered. 

“No,” Steve shook his head, his smile wry. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and he was closer now, closer than before and you could smell his cologne, the cherry soda fizz that hung in the air along with Mr Jackson’s freshly mown grass. “No, no, not everyone. I’d give the girl a peck at first, yeah? Just something PG-13. Then, when she relaxes and you know, she moves closer, kisses me back, I’d—”

Steve broke off, blinking like he was getting rid of something hazy. He’d been looking at you as he spoke, words coming too easy, the air between you both warm despite the setting sun. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous, awkward again, a bashful thing that made him suddenly even more endearing than you thought he ever could be. 

“You’d what, Steve?” You blinked, feeling warm, wondering if the boy could tell. You didn’t know what to do so you moved, leaning forward until you could fold your legs underneath yourself and your thigh bumped Steve’s shin. “You’d what?”

Steve’s eyes searched yours, his gaze falling to your lips and back again. You thought he found it then, that thing he seemed to be looking for. Because he cleared his throat and let one hand fall to the carpet between you, his fingers brushing over your socked toes and you almost jumped at the contact. 

The silence was too loud now. 

“I could show you, if you wanted.”

Someone’s lawn mower started up a few yards over, white noise buzzing in the distance as you tried to take in what Steve had just said. He was watching you, head tilted to the side, cheeks still rosy and when you looked at him carefully, you could see the barely concealed panic in his brown eyes. 

He pressed his lips together and tried to smile, tight and nervous and he was picking at the carpet, fingers fidgeting as you sat there dumbly. You heard the shake in his voice when he tried to say, “I am—,” he choked on his words, panicked. “—so, so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Steve,” you stopped the boy with a hand on his shin, your warm palm against the denim. “We’re friends, right?”

The word seemed to burn on your tongue, like it tasted like a lie, like it was as dangerous as one. You waited, breath held, wondering if you wanted Steve to agree or not. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, suddenly so serious. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course we are.” He worried at his bottom lip again, looking at your own. “Best friends.”

You nodded, tongue feeling too big for your mouth to speak. Words felt clumsy, your skin too warm. Buzzing. Fizzing. You weren’t sure if it was you or the air. 

“Show me.”

You thought Steve would maybe hesitate, maybe he’d back out or shout, ‘got you!’ like those prank shows Dustin liked to watch. You thought he’d maybe lay down some rules, maybe he’d tell you how this didn’t mean anything and really, he was only doing his sad friend a favour. 

He didn’t do any of that. In fact he didn’t say anything else at all. Steve just let out a breath and nodded once, almost to himself before he let his hand curl around the back of your calf and he tugged, gentle. 

He lifted his chin, a casual ‘c’mere’ that had your heart thundering and you wondered if this confidence, this way of acting so sure of himself, was how he got all the girls. 

A quiet sort of assertiveness that made your stomach flip inside out. 

You unfurled yourself from your sitting position, shuffling to your knees as you moved across Steve’s bedroom floor, bare shins burning against the carpet. You leaned back on your heels, brought yourself down to Steve’s level where he sat against his wall, legs stretched out before him. 

He didn’t warn you when he brought his hand to your face, fingers cupping your cheek and his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth and you were suddenly left wondering when Steve’s hands had gotten so big. You’d watched him grow, from a middle school kid to king Steve the senior. You’d seen the new muscles, the height, the hair. You’d never noticed his hands before but now they were on you, it’s all you could think about.

Dizzy. You felt dizzy. 

“Okay?” Was all he asked, voice softer and quieter now he was so much closer. 

You nodded, face too warm and licking across your bottom lip like a reflex. You weren’t sure where to look. Or where to put your hands. Most kisses you’d shared had happened in the crowds at parties or in the front seat of a boy’s car after a date. You usually lay your palms on their shoulders, holding on and wondering if every boy took these opportunities to grope your ass like a pile of dough. 

“We can stop,” Steve told you. He looked nervous and if anything, it made you feel more anxious than ever. “Whenever you want, ‘kay?” 

You nodded again, unable to really speak, too scared that your voice would crack or something equally stupid would happen. And maybe Steve knew this, maybe he knew you so much better than you ever thought he would, because he smiled and nodded too. 

“Okay,” he announced, quiet and soft and he was moving closer, noses bumping, his eyes fluttering shut. “Here goes.”

“Wait.”

Steve paused, gaze back on your own and he looked concerned, he looked worried and before he could ask you what was wrong you were sucking in a panicked breath and asking: “what if I’m the bad kisser?”

“What?” Steve let out a laugh, breathy and disbelieving and he was still so close, his hand on your jaw and his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the apple of your cheek. He was shaking his head, smiling, looking too pretty and suddenly this seemed like a monumental thing, something gargantuan. “No, there’s no way.”

You squirmed on the floor, shifting further and then closer and Steve loosened his hold on you but you didn’t go anywhere. You just blinked at him, pained with worry. “How could you know?”

Steve paused as he thought and you wondered if he had an answer, if he was going to say something truthful or he was simply thinking of something sweet to say to placate you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and seemed to search for that… thing, again. 

I— I just—” Steve didn’t say anything, he didn’t give you an explanation or a reason. 

He simply pressed his lips to yours. 

It was chaste and sweet and entirely innocent, lips closed and nothing close to scandalous. But then he parted from you just a breath, looking at you from heavy lidded eyes, watching you from beneath his lashes. And when you didn’t move, you didn’t panic, Steve leaned in again, kissing you the same way until he nudged your chin up with his hand and his lips slotted between your own. 

He moved slowly, carefully, with a practised ease that made your toes curl and it was still sweet, it made your tummy warm and your head spin and Steve’s lips were soft, tasting like cherry soda and sugar. 

You caught up after a beat or two, your hand that wasn’t braced on the floor reaching up to cling to where you could reach. Your fingers found the collar of Steve’s t-shirt, fisting the soft material and doing everything to make sure he didn’t move away. You moved with him, lips meeting and parting over and over until Steve sucked in a breath and tilted his head to the other side, pressing closer, a little deeper. 

After another soft peck, he pulled away, eyes still closed and his thumb on your chin as he whispered, voice hoarse. “See? Nothin’ to worry about.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, pressed his fingers under your jaw. “And now, a guy should be testing the waters, right?”

“They should?” You whispered back. Your eyes were still closed too, your fingers sneaking up past Steve’s collar to stroke at the skin at the base of his throat, experimental, adventurous. “How’d they do that?”

You were sure you felt the boy smile, sensed it. A warm breath across your lips as he moved closer again. “Like this—” 

Another kiss, the same as before, once, twice and then Steve was parting his mouth over your own and letting the tip of his tongue lick over your bottom lip. It was a fleeting touch, a zap, a buzz, a tingle down your spine and you gasped without thinking about it, lips parting for the boy and you followed suit, tongue moving past Steve’s lips to meet his own. 

He groaned then, a vibration against you, his hand skating back from your cheek to thread into your hair and he let his tongue move over your own, lips clicking every time they parted. It was slower than you’d been kissed before, something sensual about it despite being sat on your best friend’s bedroom floor and it made your insides somersault, the skin where Steve slouched burning. 

“Told you,” he murmured, breath heavy as he spoke. “Nothing to worry about,” he repeated and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, face blazing with heat, Steve was looking at you like he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

“Mhmm,” you agreed, barely listening, eyes still on the boy’s mouth, fingering the collar of his shirt, not ready to let go yet. “You must be a good teacher, or something.”

Steve looked distracted, Adam’s apple bobbing, gaze on your lips too. You weren’t sure he had stopped looking at them. “Yeah, yeah. Or something.” He swallowed, throat tight. “Do you wanna stop? Or—?”

“No,” you said, maybe too quickly. “Do you?”

“God, no,” Steve agreed just as fast. “You can keep going— just— what do you want…?”

Steve’s words died on his lips as you moved suddenly, rising to your knees only to push Steve back to the wall. His hands fell to his sides, hovering in mid air as he stared, watching as you swung a leg over his knees and sat carefully on his lap. You were cautious, more on his thighs that closer to anything else but you tried to breathe evenly as you took in the position. 

“Okay?” You asked him, voice caught sticky in your throat with nerves but Steve nodded, head bobbing hurriedly. You sucked in a breath, smoothing your hands over Steve’s shoulders before you did as he had, smoothing them up the sides of his neck and holding his jaw carefully. “What do I do now?”

‘Whatever you want,’ Steve wanted to beg. But apparently this was a lesson of sorts and he  had something to teach you. So he cleared his throat to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack and held your hips, hands gentle and polite. “You, uh, you find out what I like.”

You nails scratched at the back of his neck, unconsciously. You licked your lips. “How do I do that?”

Steve’s hands flexed on your hips, climbing to your waist, holding you a little tighter. Something seemed to shift then, his eyes lighting up. He looked like he was ready to fight, like you’d asked him if he were up for a challenge. It made you grin. 

“Kiss me.”

 So you did. 

You did as Steve had at the start, kissing him soft and slow and chaste, pulling away before he could catch you, teasing, nose bumping his and breaths mixing, cherry soda to fizzy candy. And just before Steve was about to groan, frustrated, you shifted closer, chest pressed to his and you parted your lips, catching his bottom lip between your own. 

It was a greedier kiss and Steve let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk, opening his mouth for you, nails digging into your sides when you licked over his tongue, exploratory, gentle. You felt him nod, the tip of his nose smushed to your cheek and you smiled, amused at his praise. 

“Like that?” You asked, breathless, barley parting from him to speak. 

“Yeah, like that,” Steve agreed, sounding just as wrecked. “Keep going, please.”

He didn’t have to ask again. Fuck, he didn’t even have to ask as nicely as he did because you were back on him in a heartbeat, kissing your best friend like you didn’t want him to remember anyone else. 

“Slower,” he whispered, muttering instructions against your mouth and you didn’t feel scolded, you didn’t feel embarrassed you just followed Steve’s instructions, pulling back slightly to kiss him softer, lips moving with his slower, slower, slower. 

You heard him groan, felt his chest rumble and his hands squeeze at you in silent praise and you knew then he liked it like that, liked to be teased. You nosed at his cheek, did as he had done and pushed your thumb under his jaw to bring his mouth up to yours, his head tipping back, back, back. You pecked over his cheeks then, over the bridge of his nose and at the corner of his lips until he was panting, waiting for you. 

“Yeah?” Was all you asked. 

“Yeah,” he hummed, feeling like he was vibrating. He let his eyes shutter closed, waiting for your next touch. “Yeah.”

You felt bolder, brazen, pushing your lips back to Steve’s and when you pulled away this time, you nipped at the boy’s bottom lip, pulling at it gently with your teeth and until it popped softly back into place and Steve swore, he cursed, he grunted and his hips shifted under yours. 

“You like that,” you noted with a smile and it wasn’t a question. 

Steve didn’t speak, he couldn’t. Instead he stared up at you and nodded, dazed, throat bobbing as he swallowed tightly and tried to get himself under control. 

You moved into each other again without discussion, an unconscious need that didn’t need a conversation. Your hands went to his hair, holding onto the messy ends at the nape of his neck as his travelled the expanse of your back, fingertips lifting the hem of your shirt every downstroke, his skin on yours. It was enough for you to make soft noises against him, nudging closer and Steve helped, his hands pulling at your waist until your chest pressed against his and were seated over his crotch. 

You felt him then, hard and pressed underneath his jeans and it made you kiss him like you had something to prove, mouths moving together, open and panting, tongues touching teasingly, teeth grazing against lips to try and make the other moan louder. 

And when Steve’s garage door opened, a groaning, grating sound below his window, it was an interruption that told you both his father had arrived home. 

You slid from his lap, chest heaving and eyes heavy on Steve’s pink cheeks. His lips were shiny from your work, his hands leaving your waist at the very last second, your butt hitting his carpet rather ungracefully as you backed away, suddenly so aware of the line that had been crossed. 

You were burning still, an ache between your legs that hadn’t quite been satisfied and your lips buzzed from Steve’s kisses, the slow, careful way he’d pressed his to your own. He’d paid attention, you realised, picked up on every noise you made, every shift against him, the way you kissed him back eagerly when he did something you liked. And you’d done the same, taking in his gasps and sighs, stomach flipping when his hips bucked and his chest moved a little quicker than before. 

Your fingers touched your bottom lip before you pressed the back of your hand to it, as if to hide the evidence. Steve was still staring at you, panting, doing nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his jeans. 

And when his front door opened and closed and you could hear his fathers footsteps lead into his office, Steve stayed quiet. Only when the sound of the door clicking shut filled the silent house did he smile, boyish and all charm.

“See?” He reminded you, cheeks still burning. His hair was a mess from where you’d pulled on it. He looked rumpled, undone at the seams. “Told you, you weren’t a bad kisser.”

[theladycarpathia]

Billy’s not expecting the call from his dad.

“Billy?” Hop sounds distant, the faint sound of an idling engine in the background. Billy blinks, because his dad is at work and as far as Billy knows that usually means sitting behind a desk at the station and arguing with Flo.

“Don’t you have paperwork to be doing?” Billy says and Hopper snorts. There’s the sound of background traffic that’s then shut out by the clang of a car door.

“Don’t give me cheek, I am still the chief,” Hopper says as though that means anything in a small town where the most crime that they get is some drunk idiot attempting to rob the gas station.

“Yes, sir,” Billy quips and changes the channel. No one else is home and he’s bored. Jon and Joyce are still at work, and El and Will are doing weird nerd activities. The diner didn’t have a shift for him today and he doesn’t have a date, so he came home. He’d half expected someone to be here, instead of getting stuck with a protein bar and old reruns.

“That’s more like it,” Hopper says and then clears his throat awkwardly. “I was just wondering…are you definitely single?”

“Dad,” Billy says, attention now fully away from the TV set. Hop’s called him before, to ask him shit like do they need milk and to take the trash out. He doesn't call to talk about Billy's love life. They never talk about that, not after that time Hopper came in his room without knocking. “What is your next question, because this could make the next family dinner a little uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Hopper gripes. There’s the sudden cackle of laughter in the background and Billy sits up.

“Are you with someone?” he asks and then sucks in a breath at the implications. “Did you put me on speaker?”

“I may have done,” Hopper says, sounding sheepish. “I just picked up a young man outside the movie theatre and he’s about your age…”

“I’m nineteen!” the mystery guy hollers from the backseat. Hopper keeps talking like the guy hadn’t spoken.

“I don’t know, I just thought he was your type.”

Billy presses a hand to his temple, unable to believe that his dad has just said those words. “What’s my type?” he asks, wondering if he’s going to combust right here and now. Hopper makes that little awkward throat clearing again, like he can’t believe the situation either.

“You know,” he says stiffly. “Sort of…pretty.”

Oh God. Billy can never look Hopper in the eye again.

“You think I’m pretty?” the guy asks curiously, and Billy can’t blame him for sounding a bit weirded out.

“I think you look like a lot of the doe-eyed pretty-boys my son brings home,” Hopper snaps. Despite his obvious discomfort, Billy can’t help the rush of affection at Hopper trying to be supportive. Neil would have beat the shit out of him. Hopper tries to hook him up with appropriately aged delinquents in the back of the police car.

“A lot?” the guy asks and Billy flushes. He then regrets it because he has no idea if he even wants to impress whatever guy Hopper has picked up.

“It’s not a lot,” he says defensively because Hawkins isn’t exactly big on the gay scene. His last boyfriend he met at Tina’s Halloween party and to be fair, if you wear a kilt and not a lot else to a party in October, Billy’s absolutely going to beg you to rail him in the downstairs cloakroom. The relationship hadn't exactly worked out.

“Look, I get the feeling I’m never going to hear the end of this so here’s the situation,” Hopper says, sounding tired. “This is my son, Billy. He’s about to finish high school, he likes cars and burgers and loud music. He has shit taste in men even though he’s attractive, clever and a smart mouth. Billy, this is Steve. I was on my way back from the mayor’s office when I caught him peeing in an alley. Judging by his big brown eyes and the fact that public nudity doesn’t seem to be a problem for him, I thought of you.”

“Aww,” Billy drawls, sitting back on the couch. There are lights in the drive so someone has just arrived home. Which is good because he needs to tell everyone this story so they can give Hopper shit about it over dinner. “Pops, that’s so sweet.”

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” Hopper says, like he hasn’t already done everything for Billy by getting him out, giving him a home. “I’ll take an extra polaroid when I process him.”

“I had to take a leak!” Steve protests and Hopper sucks in air through his teeth.

“There are public bathrooms, kid, I’ve heard those work pretty well. Billy, help your mom with dinner when she gets home.” Sucks for Hopper, it’s Jon heading up the path, keys dangling from his fingers. Billy can’t wait to tell him this story.

“Or what, you won’t bring me any more dates?” Billy asks, but he’s only half-joking. Hopper means well and kind of fucks it up a lot but this time he might have hit it right on the money. He thinks he might like Steve.

“Do I get a picture?” Steve asks. “Or does the Hawkins Police just pimp out young innocent men with full bladders?”

Oh yeah. He’s definitely going to like Steve.

“I have a picture on my desk,” Hopper admits grumpily. There’s the jangle of keys in the door as Jonathan lets himself in. “You can look at it if you’re good.”

“And what if I’m not?” Steve asks and Jonathan walks in just in time to raise his eyebrows at Billy.

“I can help punish him, if he’s not,” Billy suggests, and Hopper hangs up the phone just as Steve begins to laugh.

This has probably been done before because it's based on that famous tumblr post but it's so dull during school holidays I have nothing to do but write. And I have no in progress Harringrove fics which is probably a problem I should fix.

[alchemistc]

Eddie practices his arguments with Steve.

The thing is -

Here's the thing. It's not that he's expecting an argument. So far every time either one of them have been irritated with one another, or pissed off about something, they usually just, like, talk about it and shit. Healthy-like, which is -

Totally fucking weird for Eddie My-Parents-Fought-As-A-Love-Language Munson and Steve Still-Figuring-Out-Its-Okay-To-Be-Loved Harrington. It's weird, it is, and Eddie can't help but wonder if Steve is just bottling shit up until it explodes out of him and he realizes that this thing they're doing just isn't worth it anymore.

So.

So Steve does this thing, right?

This thing where he rolls his jaw and sometimes it pops and it makes Eddie want to stick a curly straw up his nose and scramble his own brains. And he's such a fucking neat freak that every time he's over, he ends up rearranging Eddie's room - not even in purpose, just. He likes to touch things, and Eddie gets it, he does, but touching things usually leads to picking things up leads to setting them back down and before Eddie's had time to look up, Steve has swept empty beer cans into the trash and lined up Eddie's models in a neat row like they're troops readying for battle and since he's like a war buff they're always lined up like a little battalion which is cute but also frustrating as hell because - because Eddie's chaos is organized and now he can't find his fucking lyric journal with the song he's very much not ready for people to see, or know about, or -

The point. The point is Eddie has been gearing up to talk to Steve about it for three days now and he's now at the stage where he practices. Works out the scenarios, muddles through possibilities, tries to anticipate every way it could go tits up.

He's never - Steve is most of his firsts, and he knows it's dumb and romantic but he'd like Steve to be all of his lasts, too, and so what if that means he's pacing the length of the trailer (all the while perfecting his Steve-voicr, which has been a tough one to nail but he feels like he's getting there. He's smarter and more eloquent than he lets on, is Steve.) and arguing with himself. Resetting, back to the start, working through a disastrous turn where Steve accuses Eddie of cheating on him (nope, reset, Steve's well aware Eddie wouldn't, cut that from the options).

"And seriously, Eddie, how could you think I'd do that shit to you, you know -."

"What the hell?"

Eddie whirls.

Mike Wheeler is standing in his living room, staring at Eddie like he's grown a second head. Which. Shit. They haven't actually, like, told anyone that they're...doing whatever it is they're doing (There's things Eddie wants to call it, but he hasn't brought them up yet because they're terrifying and super fucking telling and even though he's pretty sure he and Steve are on the same page he doesn't want to presume) so the kids don't know. No one except Robin knows, and she's states away and busy so.

"What the hell right back, Wheeler, what are you doing here?"

"I left my chem textbook here last night. You said I could come get it."

And - sure, he definitely had, but he'd sort of been staring at the hollow where Steve's neck and shoulder met and imagining biting it when he said it, so -

"So you broke into my house?"

"The door was unlocked."

"So you walked uninvited INTO MY HOUSE?" And he's maybe hamming up the annoyance as cover, but Wheeler just stares at him.

"Are you practicing breaking up with Steve?" Wheeler asks without preamble, with zero inflection, not even a quirk of his brow, and Eddie -

Flounders, is a generous term for it. Really what he does is shriek, and cackle, and then cover it up with the weirdest laugh either of them have ever heard which covers nothing at all. "What are - why would you - what makes you think - listen, Michael, you can't just break into people's homes and accuse them of - of - what exactly are you accusing me of?"

"Of having really terrible taste in men, Eddie, where's my textbook?"

"I don't fucking know, Wheeler, Steve rearranges shit all the time so who the hell knows where he would have -."

"It's probably on the bookshelf, then," Mike says, and then squints. "Are you...practicing arguing with Steve?"

"How do you even -?"

"Neither one of you is subtle."

"Shut up, Wheeler."

"If that's how you talk to Steve it's no wonder you have to practice your arguments."

"I'm not - you're infuriating."

Mike squares him with a look that reminds Eddie of when he's calculating hit points and strategizing his next move. He frowns. Sighs. "I have like ten minutes before I have to leave. Steve doesn't think you're cheating on him, so let's start from the top."

---

"The kids know," Eddie tells Steve, fingers shifting in Steve's hair, and Steve's lashes flash as he looks up from Eddie's lap. Mike had been - well, Wheeler might be half a decade younger but he'd been pretty instrumental in helping Eddie nail down the right approach to "Please stop cleaning up my messes you're ruining everything." so another non-argument is in the books, and Steve had looked confused about it but he'd agreed to try not to move shit around at least.

("I'm still cleaning up all the trash, though, you live like a goblin."

"It's hot that you know what a goblin is, baby."

"Nerd.")

"Are you...okay with that?"

"Are you?"

"I asked first."

It's not that he doesn't want to answer, it's just.

Okay he doesn't want to answer. Jesus Christ, he'd used Mike goddamn Wheeler as his Steve stand in to practice an argument that hadn't happened and he's still scared to call Steve his -

"I... don't really know. What to tell them." And that's - shit, not what he meant to say, Jesus.

"What do you mean?"

Steve crinkles his nose, and Eddie hates how goddamn cute it is, because he really wants to just, like, boop the tip of it and then suck Steve off but -

Where's Mike Wheeler when he needs him?

("If you ever tell Steve about this I'll tell Will to TPK your party for the next ten campaigns."

"Why would I tell Steve I'm helping you save your relationship?"

"Brownie points. So you can hold it over Henderson's head. Blackmail."

"I used to be terrified of you, but you're actually super lame, honestly."

"Preaching to the choir, my friend.")

"I mean, what...what do we tell them we...are?"

"Are you freaking out about calling me your boyfriend?"

"...no."

He shifts, and Eddie's fingers slip through the strands of Steve's hair as he shuffles, scoots, sits up and twists to face Eddie.

"I am, right? I mean...you want me to be?"

Eddie hasn't practiced this conversation, because - because it's presumptuous, because it felt sort of like jinxing it, because -

"Yeah. Duh. Of course I - shit. Yeah. Yes."

Steve's smile is bright and a little knowing. "I have a confession."

"I'm not sure I want to hear it."

"Trust me, you want to."

"Okay fine," Eddie tells him, eyes on Steve's hand as he slots their fingers together. Eddie hooks his pinkie along the edge of Steve's sleeve. "Twist my arm, why don't you?"

"I'm actually kind of glad they already know. I've been trying to figure out how to tell them for a while. I've been, like - creating scenarios in my head to try to figure out how they're going to take it."

There's - okay, so Eddie's thinking a lot of things, right at this moment, like how Steve apparently also creates mind-scenarios to play out before a situation happens, and how they might want to test out their creativity in other areas, actually, and that derails his whole train of thought for a moment, but "How long?"

"How long what?"

"Have you been trying to figure out how to tell them?"

Eddie's not insecure, exactly, but he is a big fan of knowing what people he cares about think of him and how often they think of him and -

"I mean, since, like, the first time I kissed you?"

Eddie is stupid crazy about Steve Harrington. He's fully fucking feral for this man, honestly, it's dumb. Absolutely ridiculous.

"I'm in love with you," Eddie tells him, and the tips of Steve's ears are pink.

"I know," he says, with a smarmy little grin because Eddie had admitted (under duress, and screw anyone who doesn't think a naked Steve Harrington in your lap is duress) he'd been obsessed with Harrison Ford for like a full year in his tweens, and Steve takes every opportunity to remind Eddie he knows.

"I'd also very much like to circle back to you creating scripts in your mind about telling the kids about us."

"Henderson's always a nightmare, I swear to god."

"We gotta teach him some humility."

"He respects you more than he respects me, you teach him."

"You gonna say it back?"

"Well not now," Steve says, and Eddie wants to bite him.

---

"I love you," Steve says, while Dustin and Mike and Max argue about who knew first.

Eddie hasn't practiced this one. "I know," he says, and Steve's brow quirks when Dustin catches the exchange and groans.

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART TWO

javier peña x f!reader

Summary: Javi has been acting weird ever since your kiss and you don't know what to do to make things better between the two of you

Warnings: angst angst and angst, mentions of bad relationships, reader being innocent and Javi being an asshole

A/N: I just couldn't get enough of this Javi scenario and got carried away with the angst. I love it!!!

PART 1

2.3k words

Javi's hand gripped your waist, his fingers brushing against your skin as you deepened the kiss.

You tasted his lips and loved how his mustache tickled you softly, your hands tugging at his hair, and a soft whimper escaped your lips when you realized how good it felt.

No wonder all the women wanted a piece of Javier Peña.

And just like you initiated it, he stopped it.

Peña broke the kiss announced, he licked his lips, having one last taste of you and sighed heavily. Getting up and walking to the door "I gotta go, Y/N" he swallowed and left.

•••

You could barely sleep at night, you were left confused and worried about what was going on with Javi. He just broke the kiss and left without a second word. No sex, no goodbyes, no apologies, no compliments, nothing.

You didn't know exactly what you expected, when you kissed him you knew there was a high chance of ending up under him, and even if you didn't, you figured you were close enough to avoid any awkwardness. You thought you'd laugh it off, shrugged it off or anything else but Javier exiting your apartment like that.

You hoped things would be better in the morning, maybe he just got embarrassed after the scene Carlos made the day before.

Morning came at a slow pace and you were anxious to get to work. You noticed Javi had left earlier than usual and you thought it was a little odd. Of course he didn't have to give you a ride everyday, but he usually did. Even if it wasn't his obligation, you helped each other out, but no problem, you decided to not overthink things and focus on getting to work before you ran late.

You rushed to your table kind of clumsy. You carried many files you'd finished after Javi left and also two cups of coffee from a shop down the street. It was nothing like the American ones you were used to, but there was something about that strong coffee from Colombia you couldn't get enough of. Of course Javi was the one who showed you and promised you you'd love it.

You managed to get everything on your table and walked to him, he had his head low, focused expression, furrowing his brows at how attentive he read the documents. You figured he was so deep into work he hadn't noticed you despite the noise the heavy files made when they hit the solid furniture.

"Morning Javi, this is for you" you placed his cup of coffee next to where he was resting his hand and smiled, but he didn't even raise his eyes from the paper

"I already had coffee," he replied coldly.

Your jaw dropped at the action, not even in the worst of his moods he had been that cold to you.

You swallowed hard and looked around feeling slightly lost not knowing what to do or what to say properly

"Is there a problem, Javi?" You questioned at the same time Murphy walked towards you

"Peña, Messina wants to see us now"

And with that both men left barely acknowledging your existence and let out saying goodbye.

You waited the whole afternoon, finishing the tasks you'd compromised to help Javi with but there was no sign of them. Things were probably tense and whenever they had a meeting with Messina you knew he got furious.

You saw Steve walking in and sitting down on his chair. You turned to him and waited for Javier's entrance but he never showed up.

"Where's Javi?" You asked the blonde man who scratched the back of his neck and looked at you

"I don't know Y/N… he said he had stuff to do"

You nodded and looked back at the brand new pile of paper Steve brought from Messina's office.

•••

In the evening you got out of the shower and went to the kitchen to prepare yourself some dinner. You were feeling very tired due to the stress at work and felt like making nothing more elaborate than a sandwich, but when you saw the raviolis ready to be made, your mouth watered. You quickly grabbed your cooking appliances and began working.

As food was almost ready, you battled yourself if you should knock on Javi's door and offer him some. You knew he didn't eat well overall and you still remembered the first time you'd made ravioli and invited him over. You'd never seen him eat so much before, he truly did enjoy every bite he took and praised your cooking skills for days with no end.

You smiled at yourself at the sweet memory and figured some dinner would be the greatest peace offer you could think of. Maybe over dinner you could talk things through and end up with that whole awkwardness.

You knocked on his door a few times with no answer. It was kind of odd as you'd seen his car parked in the garage and you didn't hear any noises coming from inside, and by noises, you meant moans and whimpers, which meant he was alone. You frowned and insisted a little bit more.

"Javi… I think you're inside, maybe you fell asleep, but if you're awake, I just want you to know I made ravioli for dinner, and well, if you wanna have dinner with me, you're invited" you still let out a smile and again you got no answer.

You sighed and walked back inside, still clueless about what was going on.

When you woke up the next morning, you were determined to find out what the heck was going on between the two of you. Javier was simply ignoring you, pretending you didn't existed and it hurt you to no end. He had never been like that, your Javi was sweet, lovely, funny. He was a gentleman, but ever since you barked at Carlos for his stupid teasing and you kissed him, Javier just acted as if he didn't even know you.

You didn't know what had changed and why he distanced himself, there was no reason for him to treat you like that, you were upset to be ignored but you also couldn't deny you were dying to have his eyes on you again, to have his attention, his sweet words, the pet names, the spoiling, and above all, you missed your friend. You only realized how attached to him you really were now he was pushing you away.

When you began getting ready, you went through your closet trying to pick something to wear that would go with your recently done red blood nails. You knew Javier would say something about it, he always did. Deep inside you thought it must've been some kind of a kink, as he always praised women whenever they liked how their nails were done and to you it wasn't anything different. His favorite seemed to be red, as he always said it suited your sexy personality.

You smiled as you found the perfect dress to go to work. You remembered clearly the day when you and Javi were walking down the street on a Sunday afternoon after you went out for lunch a few blocks away from your apartment building. You'd stopped briefly in front of a store, though it was closed, you could see the dresses in the window.

He had taken off his sunglasses and watched the dress closely.

"This one, cariño, it will match your body perfectly"

First thing you did that Monday after work was to stop by the place and buy the dress Javier told you to.

When you got to the office, you were feeling pretty confident about yourself, Javi was right after all, the dress did match your body, and it made you feel elegant and powerful. No one could accuse him of not having a good taste nor not knowing the female body after all.

You could see several male gazes at you, following you around and watching every step you took. Even Steve eyed you up and down, but not Javi.

In fact, he acted just like he'd been doing for the past couple of days. Head buried into work and not bothering giving you the time of the day. He talked to Murphy or just answered the phone, concentrated and not looking towards you. At the same time you tried your best not to look disappointed, so you started working, in hopes things would be better through the day.

You were standing by the scanner printer when you felt a presence behind you. You finally bit your lips to hold back a smile.

"Ay muñequita, me matas así" you were so deep in thought and expectations you were sure he finally had acknowledged you. You turned to him and your smiley face turned into an angry expression at the realization it was Carlos's disgusting words and not Javi's.

"Fuck you, Carlos" you told him as you walked away, feeling pissed at the man.

Another hour went by of hard work and you could feel it was your last chance of drawing Javi's attention to yourself.

You'd finished the last paperwork Steve had left for you when he was going through his depressed episode and you needed to hand it to agent Peña himself.

You walked to his desk confidently as ever and placed the paper flat on the table, holding it with your fingers and sliding over to him, your nails extremely visible as you saw he stopped whatever he was writing and stared at your hand, not at you, not into your eyes, but it was a start.

"Where do I put this, Javi?" You asked as sweet as you could be.

"Wherever you want, Y/N. I don't care"

And just like that, you felt like a wave of freezing water crashed over you.

You felt some angry tears forming in your eyes and was so careful not to spill them there.

You went back to your table silently and pretended to work some more, though you couldn't focus on anything around you.

It was Y/N now. Only Y/N. No cariño, no querida, no hermosa, no mi amor, just the distance and unfamiliarity of Y/N.

When he got up some moments later, you mimed his action and kept your head low, not bothering looking at him, holding your breath as you really thought for a second he would stop by your desk. But instead he walked right past it and went to the secretary, giving her his brown puppy eyes while he asked for a favor.

"This color really matches you, Colleen" he said in his sweet, charming, flirty way, sending a deep flush across the secretary's face.

You couldn't believe your ears and when you finally looked at them, he was actually holding her hand in his.

You gritted your teeth and if you could you would've slapped that bitch right across her ugly face.

You weren't proud of that thought, Colleen was actually pretty nice to you and she probably didn't deserve that. In fact, Javier deserved it more than anyone in that room, even more than Carlos, but you didn't care about being rational at that point. You were just so angry and jealous of her.

Javier got whatever he asked her for and placed it at his desk before heading to the restroom.

You felt a burning rage invading your body and you couldn't take that situation anymore.

You followed him not caring if anyone saw you sneaking into the men's bathroom, you shut the door behind you with a loud thud making Javi turn around startled and stare at you.

"What the fuck Y/N?" He groaned in annoyance and you took a step closer

"What the fuck Javier? I'm the one who asks you what the fuck is going on with you? Why are you being such a dick to me? What have I done to you?" You were so angry your voice shook a little, wanting answers from him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, looking at you and placing his hands on his hips.

"You know what, Y/N? I don't need you bitching with Carlos for the things he says, I don't want you to act like a savior, I don't need you to save me, Y/N. And I definitely don't need you to kiss me out of pity" he let out trying to control his voice, though you could see a popping vein in his neck.

"I never kissed you out of pity, Javi… I did it because it felt right…"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes

"Since we met you've been clear about not wanting to sleep with me but you do everything in your power to act like my fucking girlfriend and then you kiss me?!" He slid his tongue through his lips and sighed "I'm not a good man, for you or any other woman, you gotta take that out of your mind. I know why you broke up with your boyfriend. He left you at the altar, and guess what? I did the same thing with a woman named Lorraine ten years ago! Do you really think I'm not as bad as the other guys are? I'm not as bad as your former fiance? Cut the crap Y/N. You can't have these feelings for me, we'd better stop whatever this was now. So you won't get even more hurt"

He gave you a last glance and exited the bathroom.

You stood there, watching yourself in the mirror, looking at how much effort you had put into your outfit to draw the attention of a man who didn't deserve you.

Maybe it had been obvious from the start and you refused to see, but turns out Javier Peña was just like every other man, and just like the ones you've had before, he broke your heart.

_____

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the angst!!!

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hi!! I’m in love with your writing, could I request a fic for Steve Kemp that he kidnaps Y/N because he obsessed with them not knowing the’re the same like him.

hi honey! thank you!

summary - steve becomes obsessed with you, and because he's too blinded by your beauty, he doesn't know you are just like him, maybe even better.

warning - stalking, slightly dark, kidnapping, hints of cannibalism, talks of men and women.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You were so beautiful, and Steve couldn’t just not have you. You were so soft and perfect the first time he saw you, better than any of the women he met up with and killed. His mouth watered at the thought of what you’d taste like. Would you taste sweet? Or would you taste salty? These thoughts corrupted him, nearly causing him to go insane, leaving him to now. Your goddess-like self was knocked out and tied to a bed in his basement. But not just any bed, no. You deserved the best quality, the finest of things. Steve had gone out and purchased a frame, a new mattress, silk sheets and soft pillows. He felt giddy as he sat in the chair in the corner, watching you. You looked perfect, even asleep. How was that possible?

He watches you wake with wide eyes, wondering if you’ll scream and cry like the other women. Maybe he’ll get to taste your sweet tears. Would you look as beautiful crying? His head tilts as you look around, unbothered as if you are bored, as if you’ve been through this before. “You’re not afraid?” His breath caught in his throat as you looked at him with those captivating eyes. You blink once and then again before tilting your head. Your gaze then moves to the bed, hands slowly moving through the silk and feeling it, your brows furrow.

“Hmm, I personally wouldn’t have given such nice things to my victims, but I guess men are different.” Steve’s mouth falls open, and his brows furrow as you turn and look at him with an emotionless look. You raise your own brow, questioning him silently. “I’m guessing this is your first time?” He slowly shakes his head, still confused because the times he has watched and stalked you, he never once saw you being like him. “Huh. This is all new.” You look at him with a slightly dark smile. “Did you do all this for me? Wanted to impress me more than the stalking you were doing?” Steve’s eyes widen even more, and you lick your lips, eyes moving up and down his form. 

“You knew?” As those words passed his lips, your eyes rolled, scoffing.

“Of course, I knew. A woman knows, Steve.” If it were possible, Steve’s eyes would’ve widened more. “It’s not safe for a woman to not know her surroundings. Men have proven that constantly.” 

“So… You’re like me?” He scoots closer, dripping with interest.

You hum, playing with the fabric between your fingers. “Sort of.”

He tilts his head, “What do you mean sort of?” 

You squint your eyes, nibbling on your bottom lip as you think. “I don’t go after women as you do. I like preying on the predator. It’s always fun and exhilarating when the men realise a woman has beaten them.�� You play with the chain connected to your wrist. “See, that’s where you and I are different. You pray on women because they have been proven weaker against the male species, and I pray on the men because they are the stupider of the species.” Steve blinks in wonder, “It’s so easy getting a man to follow you home and do whatever you want with the promise of sex. No dates need to be planned because they’ve never needed to worry.” You smirk, giggling at the gobsmacked look on your captor's face.

“But, I caught you? You are locked in my basement because I beat you.” His head tilts again, confused.

“That’s what you think, my love. But, really. This was my plan all along.” The sound of the chains being undone cause Steve’s eyes to widen even more, watching as you stand from the bed, and fix your dress. “You’re lucky you didn’t ruin this. I just bought it.” You pout, looking at the man through your lashes. “Shall we play a game?”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[justmeinadaze]

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 6 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Security Dom Steddie X Sub (slightly bratty) Singer Fem Reader, SMUT, spanking, dirty talk, slight rough play (they show her a bit more of what they are into), FLUFF, they go on a date through Paris and she shows them around, they do discuss being more exclusive (as if she or they would want anyone else🙄 ), ANGST, slightly so with her talking briefly about being sober and her fears of being in a relationship again.

Word Count: 4812

“Obviously, you’re taking us to the Eiffel Tower, right?”, Steve grinned in your direction as you three walked the streets of Paris. 

“Yes but tonight when it’s all lit up.”

The day couldn’t be any more perfect for you and you were the happiest you had been in a long time. You took them around to each place you could think of that didn’t have a long line, stopping at bakeries and little shops to have them taste everything while looking for little trinkets to bring back home. 

They seemed to really be enjoying themselves which made you smile. Eddie had befriended a street musician who handed him an acoustic guitar and he sat beside him as they played a couple of songs. You took them to a vintage store where they had a blast looking at the clothes. Steve keeping trying on different hats asking you how he looked. One had a brim that three sizes too big causing you to spit out your water as you laughed at him. 

After grabbing lunch, you took them to a park nearby and had a picnic. 

“Seriously, I’m going to gain like thirty pounds off of this bread but so worth it.”, Steve chuckles as he takes another bite of his sandwich. 

“Oh, yeah. The food is phenomenal but you have to watch out for the butter and the sauces. Don’t even get me started on the chocolate.” Eddie smiles when your eyes playfully roll back.

“Did you parents show you all these places or did you find them yourself?”, he asked.

“A bit of both. The first few years I came here I basically recreated that vacation but as I wondered the streets I found more places and things to enjoy.”

“Excusez-moi.” A little girl shyly comes up to your blanket holding out a pen and paper. “May I have your…”

“Autographe?”, you smile up at her comfortingly as she grins. “Of course. Um… Quel est… ton nom?”

“Chloe.” She beams in your direction.

“I’m sorry, Chloe. My French isn’t great.” 

“It’s…okay.” Her grin grows as you give the paper back to her and lean up on your knees to give her a hug. 

“Merci, Miss Y/L/N!”

“Merci, Chloe.”

The three of you watch her as she runs back to her parents. 

“That was adorable.”, Steve smirks.

“It was. I didn’t know you had fans that were so small.”, Eddie adds. 

“Yeah, that’s another reason I want to be better. I’m supposed to be a role model for them you know?”

“And you are, honey. You’re already doing so much better and we are extremely proud of you.”

***

“Why do I have to wear a suit?!”, Eddie shouts from the bedroom as he adjusts his tie.

“Because we’re taking her to dinner, you idiot.”

“I’m just asking!”

“Plus, this will technically be our first date with her so we should look nice.”

Both men turn when they hear you exit the bathroom and their mouths fall open in shock as their eyes drink you in. Your hair was pulled up into a neat bun displaying a pair of earrings that shimmered when you moved your head. The thin spaghetti straps held up a gorgeous, black, V-neck style dress that just barely touched your ankles. When you nervously shifted your weight, the slit in the fabric exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh showing off some fancy, matching black high heeled shoes. 

“What, um, what do you think?”

“You…you…Jesus, I may be underdressed.”, Steve breathily chuckled.

“Eddie?”

“You look beautiful, princess.”

Blushing, you loop your arms into theirs as they escort you out of the hotel. When you three arrive at the restaurant, they watch you in amazement as you talk to the people in charge and an antsy gentleman leads you to a table. Steve pulls out your chair and you thank him as you take a seat. 

Both boys straighten up when a man comes out from the kitchen and heads towards you but immediately calm when you smile, assuring them that this is someone you know.

“Miss Y/L/N! It’s been so long, my love! How are things?”

“Things have been rough but they are getting better. Julien, these are my friends AND security, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington.”

They grin as they shake his hand and he returns their smiles with a bright one of his own. 

“Who better to watch your back than a friend that loves you, ah? Now, mon amour, should we start with the usual champagne?”

“Oh, no. Um, do you have something without alcohol?”

“Hmm? Oh! How about citron pressé?”

“Sure, I trust you.”, you giggle as you shrug, watching him disappear without asking the guys if that was ok with them. “I have no idea what that is but—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Both men had been starring at you with a cute, goofy smile plastered on their face. 

“Nothing. You’re just adorable.”

“It’s nice seeing this side of you to. You really needed a break, sweetheart.”

The rest of the meal couldn’t be described in any other way beside perfect. They talked to you more about some positive things in their lives trying to keep the mood uplifted. Eddie told you about his love for fantasy related things like D&D which made you laugh when the other man rolled his eyes. Steve surprised you by telling you of some movies he actually really liked.

“Ok you can’t sigh aggressively when I talk about sci-fi fantasy shit but then tell her that one of your favorite movies is Star Wars!”

“It’s completely different, Munson.”

“How!?”

“It’s actually not that different.”

“Thank you, princess!”

“But to be fair, George Lucas said he made Star Wars kind of like a western so Steve may drift more towards that then regular sci-fi.”

“Ok, you’re not on my side anymore. Hush.”, Eddie responds playfully.

You did your best to tell them more happy memories with you and your family but you struggled because it hurt. Every time you stuttered through a story, though, one or both of them would reach for your hand and urge you to continue. 

After you were done eating, you kept your word and took them to the Eiffel Tower as it was all lit up. The people in charge cut off a section so you three wouldn’t be noticed or bothered which you greatly appreciated. 

“Wow, check out that view.” Steve exhaled as he took a few pictures pausing when he noticed your face as you leaned against the railing. “You alright, honey?”

“Yeah. I just wish I could stay here in this moment. I’m having a lot of fun with you two and I think this is the first time in a long time I’ve actually been…happy.”

Eddie’s palm gently reaches out to run down your back before bringing you to his chest to wrap you up in his embrace. 

“I know what you mean. Stop me if I’m wrong Harrington but we’ve never felt like this about anyone before. We really like you, Y/N.”

“We’re all in if you are.”

“You barely know me. What if I fuck up again? What if I hurt you? What if…I’m not what you thought I am?”

“She’s doing that thing again.”, Eddie murmurs to Steve as he releases you and leans against the railing. “It’s like her own brand of self-harm…or maybe self-protection?” He raises his eyebrows inquisitively and you quickly shift your gaze. “Ah yes. There it is. She keeps says ‘What if I’ but what she really means if ‘What if you’.”

“Baby, we’re not asking you to marry us or anything. What we’re asking for is MORE nights like tonight. To be able to take you out more and get to know you better and vice versa. We know you’ve been through a lot and still are. We would never push you like they do.”

“And quite frankly, sweetheart, I don’t think there could be any more surprises because you’ve already showed us you’re not who we thought you were originally.”

“Spoiled, washed up singer.”, Steve explains when you look at them in confusion. 

“When it comes to the I’s, babe, we got you covered. You slip again and want to run all over Vegas, we’ll come get you. You have one of those moments where you try to verbally hurt us, don’t worry, we got you. We have ropes and handcuffs for situations like that.” You can’t help but giggle when he winks. 

“When it comes to the you’s, you can ask us anything and we’ll answer. If there’s something you need or need to know just let us know and we can talk about it.”

Glancing out towards the city, you feel everything run through your brain at once. You knew from the moment you met them that they were different. You trust them with your life so why were you so scared to trust them with your heart?

Because everyone who’s supposed to love you, hurts you…

Do they even love you? They can’t possibly…like you said they barely even know you. I guess it couldn’t hurt to jump in with both feet.

“Ok. Can we…we keep it between us?”

“We honestly assumed you would because of the press and everything.”, Eddie answers with a small smile. 

“I think that’s another reason Simon was with me. He liked the attention from the press.”

“Hm. Well, coming from a small town where everyone was in everyone’s business, trust me, we don’t want that kind of attention.”, Steve retorts as he leans over the railing like you had. 

Looping your arm through his, you lean your head against his shoulder as Eddie holds your hand and looks out into the city.

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

“I have a request.”

“Oh lord.”, the metalhead playfully sighs making you smile.

“Calm down, Mr. Munson.”, you giggle. “The other night I asked you two to show me how much you care about me…” They nod when you pause, urging you silently to continue. “Can you show me how to take care of you?”

Both men, who were now sitting on the couch in the hotel room looked up at you now with slight confusion. 

“When we first got together, you said you liked it rough. The other night you implied there was more to what you both were into. I want to give you what you want.”

“You do, honey.”

“You really do.”, Eddie follows almost too eagerly. 

“I still don’t think your ready.”, Steve sighs as he takes off his jacket and starts rolling up his sleeves. 

“Isn’t this all about trust? Not only do I trust you two but you should trust me to know my limits. Well…in this regard.”

The other man takes off his jacket as well, removing his button up shirt underneath along with it now donning a white tank that displayed his muscles and tattoos in a way that had you salivating. 

“Oh, come on, Stevie. We can start slow. Maybe we can show her what a punishment would look like. Something small for running away and having us worried.”

Steve sighs playfully as he motions with his fingers for you come closer. As you sit beside him on the sofa, he gently pets the back of your head while they both continue to look at you with nothing but care. 

“If you feel uncomfortable at any point, just say the safe word, ok?”

“Ok, Steve. I promise.”

He grins as his hand slides down to your back and guides your body till you’re laying across his lap on your tummy. While he flips up the underside of your dress Eddie runs his fingers through your hair, moving any lingering strands away from your face. 

“How many you think, Ed? 10?”

“10 sounds good. I think she can handle that.”

As your stomach tightens into knots with nerves, Steve’s palm soothes you as it runs down your spine and over the meat of your ass. Abruptly, it lifted and came down spanking your behind eliciting a shocked gasp from your lips. He didn’t hit you hard as it was meant to test.

“How did that feel, babe?”

“Um, odd but g-good.”

“Has anyone ever spanked you before?”, Eddie asked.

“No. Not like this.”

“Honey, I want you to count for me, ok?”

“O-O-Okay. One.”

His hand come down much harder and this time you let out a little moan especially after Steve soothes you by running his fingers along the reddening skin. 

“Two.”

“Good girl, sweetheart.”

He spanks you twice in quick secession and they both let out a groan of their own as you breathily count them off. Steve tugs down your panties, his hand coming back to travel a bit between your legs as your mouth falls open when his thumb slides between your sex. 

“Oh, Eddie. Little baby is so wet right now. I think the spanking doesn’t feel so odd anymore, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, ringed fingers gripped your hair tightly and tugged you back. 

“He asked you something, your highness.”

“Feels…good…AH! Five!”, you moaned as Steve spanked you again.

Eddie held a tight grip on you as the other boy began steadily rubbing your clit while occasionally delivering a harsh smack to your ass. 

“What number are we on, baby? Wouldn’t want Stevie to lose count and have to start all over again.”

“Mmm—Nine—Please, Steve. I’m gonna…”

You didn’t see it but they smirked at each other as he slide two fingers into your core and rapidly pumped them inside of you. Your eyes rolled as the coil snapped and as you moaned his name his hand came down one final time while you panted out that final number. 

“Good girl, honey.”, he cooed as he delicately lifted your dress over your head. “Let’s get this off here.” You keened into his neck as he sat you up and placed you in his lap while Eddie ran his palm along your legs. “Did you like it, baby?”, Steve whispered.

“Yeah, I liked it a lot. Did you like it? Spanking me?”

He chuckles under his breath, trying to stifle the moan that wants to come out at the sound of your little voice. Reaching for your hand, he places it directly on the bulge in his slacks. 

“I loved it.” Your eyes flutter closed as his lips tenderly trail up your cheek to your ear. “You like that, pretty girl? You like making us feel good?”

“M-More. Please. I can handle more. I swear.”

They glanced at each other mischievously knowing you were all riled up. 

“No.”

“Please! I can handle it!” As you begin to whine they smile and you can’t help but laugh. “You’re messing with me?”

“A little. We’re kind of curious in this headspace how far your brat can go.” Eddie’s grin grows as you climb on to his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Do you want me to be more bratty?”

“I think you’re capable of it. I work with you remember?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Hey. In here, honey, you answer us, not the other way around.”, Steve scolded. 

The metalhead tries to keep the upper hand as you grind your hips against his own. His eyes remain heavily on yours as he licks his lips to keep any other sounds from escaping. 

“In here, sweetheart, we have control.”

“You do out there to!”, you whine as you point absently outside. “Where do I have control?”

“Stop moving.”, he says sternly.

“Make me.”

His eyes grow dark as the smile he was adorning falls from his face. 

“Stop. Moving.”

You falter for a second as his voice and demeanor throw you off guard but you remain steadfast as you continue. Steve laughs from your side before Eddie lifts you up with one arm and carries you to the bedroom. 

Throwing you on to the mattress, he holds your down with his palm on your chest as he uses his other to unbuckle his belt and free his cock from its confinement. 

“If you want to stop, just tap twice, ok?” When you nod, his fingers grip your hair as he hovers his face above yours. “Ok?!”

“Ok! Yes, sir! Tap twice!”

Steve nonchalantly throws himself beside you as he watches Eddie slide his cock into your mouth. 

“She’s so fucking stubborn sometimes. I swear.”

While the metalhead takes over thrusting his length down your throat, Steve is always alert, watching you to make sure you really were ok. They genuinely did trust you would say the safe word if you needed but neither boy wanted to push you that far. 

“Fuck, princess your mouth feels so fucking good. With all that fucking sass, I’m not sure she deserves our dicks in her pussy tonight, Harrington.”

Eddie tried to control his eyes from rolling back when he felt you groan around him. 

“Did you have something you wanted to say?”

“Please. I’m sorry, Eddie. I’ll do whatever you want. I promise I’ll behave.”, you beg as you shift up to your knees and continue stroking him with your hand. “Please. I need you inside me. I need to feel you.”

Pinching your cheeks between his fingers, he brings your lips to his before firmly pushing you backwards onto the bed. 

“Go show Steve how much you’ll behave.”

As you crawl over to the now naked man, you tenderly kiss his stomach making him smile as he strokes your hair. Delicately running your tongue along his slit, he moans as he pulls your hair into a ponytail with his hands and watches you fully take him into your awaiting mouth. 

Eddie jostled you around a bit till your ass was fully on display for him and you both whimpered as he guided his cock into your entrance. The warmth of his chest encases you as he leans against your back and kisses your shoulder. 

“Come on, sweetheart. I know you can take him better than that especially with the way you run that sassy mouth.” Taking over Steve’s hold of your hair, he guides your movements making you gag and drool as the man mewls with pleasure. “Atta girl. There you go.”

Eddie rolls his hips hard, roughly nudging against that tender spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling back. 

“Is that the spot, pretty girl?” Pulling your head, he forces you to look at him. “Is it? Right there?” You struggle to form words as he continues to grind against you. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“Ah! Y-Yes, there. D-don’t stop. Please…”

The metalhead grins as he pushes you back down on Steve’s cock before releasing his hold on your hair to grip your waist as he leans back on his knees and pounds his hips into yours. 

“G-Good girl, honey. Fuck. You take us both so well.”, Steve coos as he pets your head.

Eddie’s fingers slide underneath you, rubbing fast circles into your little bundle of nerves, driving you crazy in the best way as you throw you head back in pleasure. 

“FUCK! Eddie please!”

Ringed fingers wrap around your throat and pull you up to your knees as you lean against his shoulder. 

“That’s right, baby. Say my name again. Who’s making you feel this good?”, he murmurs into your ear as he slams into you harder. 

“Eddie! I’m…Eddie, please…”

Your hand takes hold of his wrist as your other clings his hair while your arm wraps around his neck. His fingers move faster to match his pace while you continue chanting his name until the ball drops and your body trembles against him as you cum. 

“Fuck me.”, Eddie groans, shoving you back down against the mattress and holding your wrists behind your back as he chases his high. 

Grunting above you, his rhythm becomes sloppier and you mewl as you feel him release his seed inside of you. 

“Good girl, princess.”, he praised as he gradually pulled out of you and kissed any part of your skin his lips could reach. “It’s Steve’s turn, sweet girl. Whenever you’re ready.”

Your head shot up in search for him and as your eyes met his soft ones, his fingers reached out to caress your sweaty face. When you nod, he motions for you to come closer, taking hold of you under your arms and scooting you both up closer towards the pillows. 

“Come here, honey. No, the other way.”, he instructs as you started straddling his waist. After turning away from him, he guides you down till your back his against his chest. One of his strong palms holds on to your chest as his other holds the base of his cock and runs to along your dripping lips between your legs. “Jesus. Eddie made you feel real good, didn’t he, baby?”

Nodding, you turn your head to kiss his cheek and he moans as he breaches your entrance, sheathing himself inside of you with minimal resistance. As he thrusts his hips up against you, his fingers move around to massage your nub as the hand on your chest takes hold of tit making you growl in ecstasy.

“Steve! So…so deep…oh god.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, Y/N?” Picking up his pace, the bed begins to move underneath you as he clings to your sweaty, messy frame. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s our girl. Your pussy is just fucking clinging to me, pretty girl, God damn.”

 Pushing up, you balance on your hands as your hips push down to meet his. 

“Can you see it? My cock disappearing inside of you?”

“Steve, please. Please!”

Tugging on your hair, he pulls you back against him, hugging your tightly as he thrusts into you harder. The sound of skin hitting skin fills the room and your eyes roll back as you drag your nails against his flesh.

“I’m…I’m…”

Without warning, he shoves against your back pushing you up and pulling himself out of you, yanking your hips backwards till your pussy was hovering over his face. Roughly, his hands pushed you back down, urging your lips over his cock as he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you still as he his tongue devoured you. 

Your hips grinded against him as his head moved quickly from side to side causing you to lift your head and scream as you came. As he continued to lick your clean, you bobbed your head around his length wanting him to feel as good as he had just made you feel. 

His grunts reverberated in your cunt as he pumped his hips upwards till you felt rope after rope of his spend hit the back of your throat.

Falling to the side, you both panted till Eddie’s voice broke the silence. 

“Yeah, that’s cool. Just put your feet by my face.” You giggled as you lifted your leg and touched his nose with your big toe. “Ew, gross. With these beautiful pedicured, toes. Still purple, I see.”

“I like purple and no one is looking at my feet that closely in an arena style concert.”

“Do you want to take a bath, Y/N, or a shower?”, Steve asks.

“I want to curl up into a cocoon and sleep for 100 years.”

“Ok, bath it is.”, he grinned as he rolled over the side and lifted you into his arms. 

While he got everything ready, Eddie’s hands lightly gripped your shoulders and tilted you forward. When your eyes shifted to the mirror, you realized he was looking at your behind.

“It doesn’t hurt. I mean, it’s sore but…”

“I figured. I just need to take a look and make sure you don’t need any ice or anything. I’m sure you’ve noticed but Steve Harrington has big hands so sometimes he unintentionally leaves marks that last for a couple of days.”

“Part of the reason I ask questions.”, he winks as he guides you into the water.

“No one has ever asked me questions before or even done any kind of aftercare. I like it. It makes me feel cared for. 

“We do care… a lot.”, Eddie smiles as he holds up your hair while Steve continues to clean you. 

“Is this normal for you two? The shared partner thing?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘normal’ but we’ve done it before. Never with a client, however.”, Steve sighs. 

“So…this could look bad for everyone if people found out?”

Both men stopped moving as they gave you their full attention. 

“Yes. And not just because of the press.”

“People may not hire us anymore if they thought our judgment could be altered when it came to protecting them.”, Eddie followed in a serious tone.

“Are you implying Mr. Munson, that your judgment in keeping me safe has now changed?”

“I’m saying, Y/N, I would take a bullet for you but, for example, us keeping you sober isn’t a part of the security job description. If…If you wanted to get drunk right now we shouldn’t have any say in that…”

“Unless it leads to you roaming Paris in your underwear or makes someone want to hurt you.” Steve glances over your serious face. “What are you thinking, honey?”

“I just…I see what you mean. I wouldn’t want either of you to take a bullet or get hurt because of me. I’d rather it be me…”

It had been a while since you saw their eyes shift into this particular authoritative glow. Steve almost too roughly cupped your cheeks in his hands as he forced you to look at him. 

“Don’t ever think or let us hear you say that again. It’s our job to keep you safe not the other way around. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, I understand.”, you whisper as your hands takes hold of his wrists. 

“Y/N, like I said, we care about you but if your safety is on the line BECAUSE of us then we would end this right here right now.”

You pushed down the urge to cry at the thought of them leaving you. They had done so much for you in the short time they had been a part of your team. 

“I promise I won’t interfere. I trust you both to take care of me.”

Steve’s eyes flick to Eddie’s for a moment before he kisses your forehead and lets you go. 

##########

The following Monday, the three of you were sitting in your manager’s office waiting for him as he burst through with Sarah in tow. 

“Well, look who decided to finally grace us with her presence. How was the vacation, Y/N?”, Jack sassed. “I don’t know why you two are even here. You’re fired.”, he gestures towards the boys. 

“No they aren’t.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I said no they aren’t and you lower your voice when you speak to me!” Sarah smiled from her seat as the men on either side of you contained their excitement for you. “Jack, I’m tired. You were one of the ones that kept pushing me to get sober and now that I’m trying…I shouldn’t be on tour right now especially not with people like Mark shouting at me every 10 seconds. I need time to really have go at this.”

“Y/N…”, he sighed. “We’ve had this tour set up for months. Now I’ve put up with a lot from you but—”

“But nothing. I’m telling you no. I need a break. I can do interviews and keep working on the album. I can do little shows here but I can’t do a country wide tour right now.”

“Y/N, listen to me. Hear me. If you do this, if you cancel this tour, I will be forced to drop you as a client.”

You straighten up as you exhale, tapping into that sassy girl that resides within you. 

“So be it. Sarah? Have you thought about being an agent?”

“Me? Oh, um, I mean…”

“You’re honestly the only person I trust who has always had my well-being in mind. I’ll pay you what I pay Jack and then some.”

She smiles as she glances towards your now former agent. 

“I guess I just got a promotion.” You both stand, giving her a big hug before she pulls back to cup your face. “I’m really proud of you. I’ll come by later today and we can talk about a statement for the tour.”

“Y/N, please! Don’t do this! Look, why don’t you sit down and we can talk about this rationally.”, Jack begs. As he reaches for your arm to stop you from leaving, Eddie swats it away. 

“I’m sorry, sir. You aren’t allowed to touch Miss Y/L/N.”

“But if you would like to speak with her, feel free to call her agent Sarah to set up an appointment.”, Steve grins as they both follow you out of the office. 

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

@rckstrbee @melodymishahiddlestan @strangerfreak

@siriuslysmoking @micheledawn1975 @cositaslua

@munsonmoonshine86 @unfocused81 @paleidiot

@dad-steddie @aol19 @strngrlytn @mrsjellymunson

@needylilgal022

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 2: Cooks in the Kitchen

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: Everyone hates a backseat driver. And a surprise guest when you’re not at your best.

Word count: 3,234

Content/warnings: TW: dead body and all you would expect in forensic science, I tried to make this not graphic, mentions of bruising, mentions of torture and abuse, sassy and borderline mean reader, awkward Steve who overthinks, reluctant? flirting, allusions to and mentions of murder

Author’s Note: For my dearly beloved @krirebr please know that you’re loved and appreciated by us all. I hope this helps, just a little bit. (Extra angsty, hopefully to your tastes)😘

What I’m gonna say is Decks seems very on edge compared to how she was before. Her guard came up out of ‘nowhere?’ Hm, that’s weird… or is it?

Anyway, these are Loupe glasses, if you’re wondering. They let you see tiny things up close and at a better angle.

Comments, reblogs, asks, and any feedback is so welcome and appreciated. Thank you for reading!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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After your weekend at the farm, Steve drove you home to return to your normal life. As much as you loved being out in the country, city life was definitely more your speed. You immediately went back to work and were happy to keep your busy routine going. Sure, a weekend away from screens and solvents was a breath of fresh air, but this was where you thrived.

Despite the way there were new, more outlandish cases to deal with, the days were surprisingly routine. Come in, visit a crime scene, run some tests, go home, do it again. You lived for that sort of zen. The detachment of simply putting your head down and getting to work was what you were used to, and then once you were home, it was like a sanctuary. You could lounge, pick up another hobby out of the thousand you’d already started, and crawl into your fresh sheets.

It’s not like you were entirely a hermit, though. You got along with your coworkers and would commonly joke around with them, but first and foremost, you were a proper worker, doing your job. When something really needed done, you’d lock down in the lab, music blasting, and crank out results.

Steve was the same way. He tried to keep his days as routine as possible, despite the way work brought something new everyday. Rival gangs needed monitored and law people needed bribed. Shipments and production needed to be kept on a tight schedule and up to pace with increasing demand.

There wasn’t much time for it, but he’d found certain images and memories start to take hold in his mind. They were different from the grade school ones of Bucky, or his times learning the ropes of his trade, or the first suit he’d ever worn. They were new, they were…warm? Lacked that same rigidity? They were of you. Driving his car effortlessly, petting a baby goat as it bleated happily, teaching him to dance…small, little moments that he couldn’t let go of, but he didn’t have time to replay enough.

He did his best to stay proper in his business dealings. Steve was known for his gentlemanly demeanor, truly a golden boy of the underground, or…at least as much of one as an individual could be given the legality loopholes he was constantly trying to jump through.

On the outside, he was smooth as a beach. Fluid with the crashes of waves this industry threw at him. He’d gotten good at rolling with the punches without a single blond hair out of place. But inside? It was a hurricane. The wind raged and echoed in his ears, putting him on edge. It was sensory overload.

Everyday, he found his attention wanting to wander more and more to that simpler time, not romanticizing it for the lack of pressing responsibility, but for the fact he spent genuine moments with someone who was unlike those in his world. Unlike the men so obsessed with maintaining their place on top or squashing others to get there. They were all about the money, but you were working for the people, and for the betterment of the city. To solve cases and give peace to families. And Steve knew he was all too often on the other side of that, even if he prided himself on only taking out the worst of the worst. The ones who deserved it. They were the ones endangering women and children, who to him, were the distastefully vulnerable and undeserving of wrath, despite the fates they were met with from the awful men Steve rid the world of. He wasn’t breaking his set of morals and rules, he was just breaking the law sometimes. Steve was a good man, he just happened to make his living doing bad things.

He didn’t have time to reflect on that right now, though. Things had seriously picked up in recent weeks. Bucky was soon to return, but it didn’t help that Steve felt like Lloyd was unrelentingly on their asses. Leading the organization when it came to the normal stuff was fine, but the extra protections Bucky was making him run, along with the extensive research and monitoring was already taking its toll. Steve was used to a lack of sleep, he basically lived on adrenaline and black coffee, but another night where he was fielding calls and sending out directives without a wink was causing his emotional guard to fall.

It was early morning as Steve sat at his desk. He’d ordered Sam to head out hours ago, but as the sun was cresting over the horizon, not even that searing glow could keep Steve’s tired mind at bay. The levees against the flood were weakened beyond belief. The hurricane was about to make landfall.

Just then, the phone rang. It was one of his contacts down at the police station. That wasn’t new, but the specific news was and Steve wanted to be there in person to get every bit of information he could... and perhaps catch a glimpse at the one person who could scratch that new itch in his brain. Maybe, finally, at least he could catch a nap in the car, as Steve called Gio to drive him over.

Over the couple weeks you’ve been back, you couldn’t help the way your mind wandered constantly, either. Even your favorite playlist couldn’t keep you on track, so you opted for silence, the scenes replaying of your time on the farm doing plenty to help you block out your surroundings.

You were working on a particularly difficult case currently. There was no time for distractions. The overcast sky just added to the ambiance of the feeling that something unusual was looming over you. You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, along with the keys from the ignition, and took a deep breath, letting it out sharply to get yourself ready. When you’d gotten out of the SUV and to the crime scene, Detective Lang greeted you.

“So I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

He guided you along the River walk and down the rocky shore where a victim laid, waves still lapping over her feet as photographers and cops gathered around the scene, surveying it for evidence. A small crowd had gathered along the pathway, held back by barricades and uniformed officers. At least you were here before the news crews.

“Bad news first, always. You know that.” You spoke with a purpose, slipping on your gloves after pushing up the sleeves of your department-issued windbreaker and cuffing your pants so they wouldn’t get wet.

“So far, looks like it was blunt force trauma with a side of torture. Very little evidence to go off of, especially considering there are no open wounds and the tools used for this kinda thing could be in any household.”

You crouched down by the body and immediately took note of the bruising. You hummed in acknowledgement and looked back up at the detective, his head framed by the cloudy, gray sky, the rising sun now hidden. Fitting for a tragedy like this. A woman your age subjected to that sort of an ending…

“And the good news?”

He sighed, looking up at the sky, hands on his hips, before he dropped his head back down towards you.

He winced. “Body’s fresh? Disposal doesn’t appear very well thought-out.”

You nodded and looked around for any piece of evidence that hadn’t washed away. He was right, it was gonna be difficult to pull many testable elements.

“Well, I’ll do the usual work-up, then, and let you know when you’re good to get everything over to the medical examiner.”

He curtly nodded and turned on his heel to speak with the witnesses before you began to pull out your kit, swabbing for anything of note.

After you finished collecting everything you could, you carefully slipped back through the background and away from the slew of reporters now blanketing the scene. Ugh, you hated those block heads. Especially Lucas Bell, the weird little ray of sunshine you went to school with growing up. For some reason, he thought the two of you were actually friends, despite never having even given him the signal you appreciated his presence. The worst part: you could tell he wasn’t hitting on you. He would genuinely seek you out at crime scenes, that gross happy smile on his face, calling you by the birth name almost no one used anymore in favor of your college nickname. Every time, it was, “hey, remember me, old pal? Great to see you! Any information you’re willing to share?” Who the hell was so chipper when their job was literally to report tragedies?

You bobbled your head as you mocked him to yourself and got back into your work SUV. Ugh, you hated that guy. And all the other reporters. You didn’t wanna be on camera. What if you wanted to work for the FBI one day? Huh? What then? Can’t have your face out there all willy nilly and then expect to be doing covert ops. Nope. You prepared to race back to the precinct, ready to drown yourself in an afternoon of attempting to suck evidence out of a cotton swab caked in river grime and essentially, air, if you could count that as evidence.

You drove back through the pouring rain. Another thing to be annoyed by. First, the longing for your simple weekend once again, then the intrusive thoughts about annoying little reporters, and now, the near-flooding on the roads. You could hear her in your head now, Bee saying “rain makes corn. It’s a good thing.” You rolled your eyes, to be honest, you liked the rainy atmosphere, but you know what rain also makes? Bad drivers. At this point, it was just best to get back to the lab, buckle down, and stay there, where no one could possibly bother you.

You were hours in to your intensive testing. Your spectrometry readings gave the smallest peaks, hard to say if the readings actually were something or just background noise. You were happy to put in the time, but something just felt…off. It was infuriating and not helping your mood, but you tried your best to keep it separated from work. It wasn’t perfect, but it was your best. Another small thing going wrong could push you over the edge, though.

You opted to just look at a small fabric sample, deciphering if there truly was some thread of note caught in the weave. You just needed to concentrate and you knew you could find something. You were purely focused and zoomed in, using your Loupe glasses, paired with several lamps overhead, with the highest hopes of even a shred of confirma-

“Decks? More like Specks.”

The sudden voice that echoed through the lab startled you, causing your head to shoot up and bump against one of the metal lamps.

“Ow!” At that same time, the forceps and piece of fabric flew out of your hands and onto the floor. It didn’t help that you knocked into your instrument tray on the way, sending all those onto the floor, as well.

Great, now you had to go to the stock room to find a new package of sterile ones. This was the last set left in the lab. You looked up from where you watched the evidence fall, rubbing your forehead with the back of your gloved hand, eyes narrow at the business man in a suit who was previously leaned against your doorway, now tentatively walking towards you to crouch on the ground.

“Steve, what the hell?” You trailed off for a second. “You and Bee really do have the same sense of humor. I thought she just told me that as a selling point.” It came out as an irritated growl. You rolled your eyes as you squatted down to start cleaning your mess.

Steve laughed. Selling point? Bee talked to you about him? And tried to make him appealing? He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a certain warmth in his stomach at that. He pushed it down as much as he could. Either way, he truly did get along well with her.

“Well you know what they say, birds of a feather and all.” He joined you near the floor after having grabbed a glove, picking up some stray instruments and placing them back in the metal holding tray.

You muttered lowly as you finally stood up and turned away from him, after grabbing the fabric off the floor gingerly and placing it in a plastic protective case. “More like wasps of a stinger.”

Steve disposed of his gloves and looked over the results on your computer. You quickly hit the keys to lock the screen, sure to cast him a nasty glare. The last thing you needed was to get accused of leaking evidence.

What was he doing here, anyway? With those broad shoulders and that skinny waist. What did he even need shoulders that big for? How did he even shop for clothes? You swear his waist was literally the same circumference as your thigh. They don’t carry stuff like that in department stores.

Steve looked at you with a confused glance as you removed your gloves and washed your hands. There was a hint of humor in his voice, but it was mostly filled with caution at your attitude.

“Um, I don’t really shop for clothes? I’ve got a tailor. He’s pretty good.”

After your hands were dry, you facepalmed harder than ever before. You couldn’t believe you said that out loud. Maybe you did need to interact with more people outside of work. You were too comfortable talking to yourself. You took a deep breath before turning around and looking at Steve again. His face now mostly held tentative kindness, and that was a nice change to the anger that was sitting in your belly all day today. You still couldn’t help what you spat back, though.

“You have a tailor? In this economy? Of course you do…rich prick.” The last part was grumbled under your breath, but Steve still caught it. Where was this hostility coming from? He thought the two of you had gotten along great before. What changed?

Steve’s hurt caused him to fire back, albeit much nicer than you had. “You’re calling me rich? Decks, I’ve seen your apartment, it’s nice. Especially for this city. Way nicer than my first place.”

First off, what was that supposed to mean? You were still suspicious about exactly what Steve and Bucky did for a living. You knew they made a lot of money. Steve wore designer suits, if he could help it, and you assumed Bucky did, as well, but what business did they have being this built?

You let go of that, though, wanting to just get back to work after the disturbance, but why had you been disturbed in the first place?

“Steven, what are you doing in my lab?”

He was taken aback. Woah, full names. He knew your full name, but didn’t dare to find out what would become of him if he used it. It didn’t seem like many did. He wanted to go about this the right way. He didn’t want abuse his delicate position as a friend of a friend when you were so close to the law…yet.

He stood upright and pressed his shoulders back. Right, he was here on business. He had to remember that. It wasn’t a personal call and he had to stay professional.

“I was actually meeting with Scott, er, Detective Lang. He called me about the new case that came in this morning.”

You nodded slowly. “You knew her?”

Why did that make you nervous? Of course Steve knew women, like, duh, but something burning rose in your chest in anticipation of his response. Why did you care? You didn’t even want him here. Right?

He shook his head lightly. “No…well, sort of? She was an employee of one of my businesses. A salon.”

One of his businesses, of course. A salon was…interesting… but you guessed not out of the question with how perfect his stupid perfect hair always was. Whatever, just because he was here for some questioning, doesn’t mean he had to pay you a visit.

“Okay…so why did you come in here?”

You looked up at him from the odds and ends you were shuffling around your work bench out of nervousness.

“I actually wanted to see you, maybe help out a little?”

You eyed him skeptically, ignoring the way your chest sent a tingle down towards your fingertips. “You know when someone offers to keep close to a case like that, it usually means they had something to do with it, right?”

Steve put his hands up in surrender. “I swear this wasn’t me. I just genuinely care for my employees. Did you check under the fingernails? Maybe there was some DNA there or something?”

Your gaze became even more burning towards him. “Yes, Steven. I checked under the nails. That’s like, the first thing you do in cases like this. But why would you know that, anyway? And how can you say you care so much about your employees if you didn’t even know the girl?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. He was usually much smoother than this. How did you intimidate him so much so suddenly. Oh no…Is that where the name ‘Decks’ came from? Were you gonna hit him? Deck him? Did you have a pension for beating guys up? If he made a wrong move, would you literally punch him? Give him a black eye? Sure, much worse had happened to him before, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to emotionally recover if the damage came from you.

Either way, Steve didn’t want to find out, so he continued quite cautiously and uncomfortable within your domain, lacking the confidence that came so easily to him in all his usual business dealings and the quasi-leadership role he found himself in.

“I um…I watch a lot of CSI shows?” He hoped that was believable, but he knew it came out like a squeak, almost. He may as well be a little kid losing fights in a back alley again. He cleared his throat in an attempt to get his voice back to normal. “I do care for my employees, though. And my reputation, and the ability to make sure nothing like this happens again to anyone involved with me.”

You sighed at that. You can understand the want to prevent future disasters, especially when it came to someone working so low at the bottom of the food chain for such a major company. As you slipped your Loupe glasses back on and readjusted your lamps, you gestured for Steve to take a seat in your computer chair while you moved to a stool by the lab bench.

“Okay, fine. I’ll let you hang around, but don’t tell me how to do my job.”

You couldn’t help the way the corner of your lip turned up, just out of Steve’s sight, as he strutted over and plopped down into the rolly chair, watching you with a smile and his fingers laced behind his head.

Next >

Bonus A/N: I’m very excited for what’s going to grow between Steve and Decks. She’s a lil independent thing and he’s just so “idk what to do bc I’m supposed to be in control but I’m doing everything on her terms” and I love it. Lmk what you think!!!

Series Taglist:

@evie-119

[persephonesfill]

like smoke rings in the air

a/n: lol i meant to write this in may. anyway steve may or may not be obsessed with tony after the events of breathe me in. that's between him and god.

breathe me in (prequel fic. tony's pov)

choke on me (sequel fic. tony's pov)

Steve has a problem by the name of Tony Stark.

It starts in Stuttgart with Steve on his knees, Tony his savior, soaring through the air in a riot of noise and color, like an archangel at the end of days.

Later on, when Tony leaps from the Quinjet, proud and defiant, Steve doesn't even think twice about jumping after him into the unknown.

Maybe that should have been his first sign that Tony Stark was nothing but trouble.

He's trouble with those whiskey-warm eyes, and that smart fucking mouth, but Lord, forgive him, Steve wants to sin for once.

Steve's finally stripping out of his uniform and gearing up for a shower when Tony makes the decision for him. Tony comes after they've defeated the Chitauri, gone through Hell together. He hovers in the doorway looking uncharacteristically contrite and something in Steve aches. Tony's heart had stopped in those few terrifying seconds after the Hulk had cradled him to safety. What was he even doing up?

He says as much and Tony deflects quick and sharp like a knife to the gut. "After the second time you get used to it."

It's said so nonchalantly, like it's a fact of life. Tony Stark's heart stops from time to time and it's no big deal. Why is Steve worrying? Still...it bothers him, how little Tony seems to care about his own wellbeing.

"You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play. To lay down on the wire and let the other guy crawl over you," he had said earlier in blaze of righteous fury.

It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, just thinking about it. Tony had laid on the wire. More than.

He's man enough to apologize, to recognize when he's wrong. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the past 36 hours or the latent realization that all of Manhattan would be a smoking crater if not for Tony, but Steve has the sudden, near violent urge to make things right.

Steve snaps back to the present, face twisting as Tony says he wants to apologize for being an ass, like Steve hadn't been going toe to toe with him in the first place.

And for some godforsaken reason, that pisses Steve off. Reminds him of the old days, before the war and the shield and everything that came with it, when everyone treated him like he was made of glass. Innocent. Fragile. Good for nothing.

"It wasn't just you," Steve blurts out, hoping it doesn't sound as strange as he feels. This is supposed to be an apology and all he wants is to prove Tony wrong.

Somehow, it works. They banter back and forth and Tony estimates that he's no longer a lab rat and it feels good. The kind of banter he had with his men a lifetime ago. And maybe...if this little team of theirs doesn't fall apart...

His stupid heart still has hope, it seems.

"You know...what you did today, that took courage," Steve says, his voice slipping into something softer that makes his cheeks heat. The ribbing was easy. Routine. This is something else entirely.

"Don't even mention it. Please," Tony says quickly...not the reaction you'd expect from someone with a notorious ego.

Steve frowns and wonders how much of Tony Stark is real.

"If you're not gonna let me apologize to you properly, at least let me do something for you, or buy you something. I'm great at buying things."

His first reaction is to balk, but he swiftly shuts it down. He had judged Tony before and look where that had gotten them. The least Steve could do was hear him out. "Like what?"

"I don't know, like a vintage car or something. A blowjob. Whatever floats your boat."

It's ice water in his veins, like the floor's disappeared underneath them, and Steve is headed straight towards another watery grave. A thousand thoughts fly through his head—is it a joke? A threat?

Steve hopes times have changed at least in regards to that. But why would Tony bring it up so publicly if it was still a crime to want a man the way society said he should have wanted a woman? Unless...unless it was real. Because if it was real...

By the time Steve formulates a response, he already sees the fear in Tony's eyes.

"It was a joke," Tony says weakly, and Steve hopes his disappointment isn't that clear.

"I'm sorry," Steve says, glancing down, suddenly all too aware of his half-nakedness. He needs to go into barrack now before he dies of embarrassment.

"Wait," Tony says, grabbing Steve by the arm. It sets Steve on fire in the best way, the ice in his veins melting away. "It...it wouldn't be a chore or anything."

Steve swallows, looking Tony up and down. There's a nervous, flighty look in Tony's eyes like candle light. "You mean that?" Steve says.

But Tony wasn't a candle. He wasn't even a spark. Tony Stark was a goddamn powder keg, and Steve wanted to be the one to light the match.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it," Tony confesses. The ice, the cold, is gone, and Steve wants to burn, burn, burn.

"Yeah?" Steve says, and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips, suddenly parched.

"Yeah," Tony breathes.

What happens after is forever emblazoned in his brain. Tony, looking at him with those fucking doe eyes. Yanking Tony in by his shirt collar, kissing that smart-ass mouth until all it's good for is moaning like a whore into Steve's. Tony sinking to his knees, Steve's pants around his thighs and his cock finding a new home in Tony's mouth.

And then Tony runs.

Sometimes Steve thinks Tony was born with wings at his feet, that he came out of the womb running and hasn't stopped since.

Steve feels like a wolf sometimes, chasing after Tony, nipping at his heels with sharp teeth. He doesn't mind the chase, but he doesn't love it either. He just wants Tony. Tony in his arms, in his bed, with Steve's teeth clamped around his throat.

Okay, so maybe he does like the chase. Just a little. But if Steve likes it, then Tony loves it; a hare evading a snare.

Tony runs and Steve thinks to Apollo and Daphne; So close to heaven you can almost fucking taste it, nectar gliding hot and heavy like honey down his throat, only for it to be snatched away.

Two years pass and he's not any closer to solving the Tony Problem and it haunts him. Even on missions. Especially on missions.

"How about her?" Natasha says, swiping through one of the five billion dating apps that seemed to permeate this new era Steve was in.

They're in Turkey this time, waiting for SHIELD to extract them, but there had been something wrong with one of the helicarrier's turbines prolonging them indefinitely. What else was new. Natasha had of course decided that was the perfect time to make him a Tinder, of all things.

"Out of the kindness of my heart," she had teased.

The woman on Natasha's phone was...fine. Stunning even, with long golden hair, high cheekbones and a tall, svelte figure but her eyes...

Her eyes were pale blue, like shards of ice. Steve shivered involuntarily. He had had enough of ice.

He wanted heat and fire, someone who burned him alive. Someone like—

"Not my type," Steve says and he's telling the truth... and maybe he wants to mess with Natasha. Just a little bit.

"...Is it because she's blonde?"

Yeah. That was the issue. The woman was blonde and she had blues eyes and wasn't Tony fucking Stark and that made all the difference.

"Too pretty," Steve says instead.

"And you're too handsome," Natasha says. "It's a match made in heaven."

"Heaven, huh?

"Or, Hell. Honestly, take your pick."

Steve snorts and scrubs a hand down his face. When he closes his eyes, he's no longer at there extraction point, a nondescript hostel devoid of any other guests and he's back on the helicarrier...with Tony.

Tony had been eager, with roaming hands and a wicked tongue that had Steve coming hard enough to see fucking stars. The new navy-and-white suit he's wearing is one of Tony's designs and he can almost pretend like Tony's hands are all over him. He'd leave it on and Tony would sink to his knees again, kissing Steve's boots and up his calves, ever the tease. Nuzzling against his thighs and lathing at Steve through the kevlar.

"I missed you," Tony would say, doe eyes back in full force. "I missed this," with his hand around Steve's—

"Did you go to sleep?" Natasha asks, and the fantasy's over.

Later on, when the helicarrier finally picks them up, Steve does his usual routine. Strip. Shower. Jerk off, thinking about Tony. Rinse. Repeat.

"I want you," Tony would say.

"I could give it to you," Steve thinks. "If you'd let me."

[freakingoutthesquares]

Pulp Diction - Part Two Part One here Words: Paul Lester, Photographer: Pat Pope Melody Maker, 27 May 1995 Transcription: Acrylic Afternoons

Starring: JARVIS COCKER as THE JUNKSHOP ROMANTIC STEVE MACKEY as THE PLAYBOY RUSSELL SENIOR as THE ALIEN CANDIDA DOYLE as THE CARE BEAR KID NICK BANKS as THE PIE-MUNCHER

PULPSEX (COME AGAIN)

The B-side of "Common People" is "Underwear" (a very, very Pulp word that, underwear), a brief encounter between a fully clothed boy and a semi-naked girl. Says Jarvis Cocker, the Morrissey With A Groin™: "It's about how, once you've taken somebody's clothes off, it's hard to put them back on and leave and say, 'Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't actually mean that.'"

Forgive me for being so literal, but I was wondering... "Do I wear underwear? I didn't used to, but do now, I hate boxer shorts, they're crap. I don't see the point of them - there's no support. If you run, it's all flopping about. I prefer the trunks type - not with the legging, but kind of like Y-fronts. You can get them from Marks & Spencer in three-packs. I have tangas as well, but they're disgusting - you know, those really tiny ones."

Is Jarv into "sexy" women's underwear? "No, I hate all that Ann Summers, supposedly erotic lingerie where it's like, black polyester satin with synthetic red trim and synthetic lace."

Does he ever stop himself from having un-PC thoughts? Sexist ones, for example? "Not really. I was brought up in a completely female-dominated environment," he backtracks to his childhood - his father left home when he was seven, and he was brought up by his strict mother, who, suitably tragicomically, would hit him with a plastic hairbrush, only to replace it with a wooden one when it broke. "So it would be difficult for me... I mean, I do think there are differences between men and women. But I like that. I'm not particularly into homogeneity. Vive le difference!"

Are we finally allowed to admit, post-"Loaded", to admiring the female form? "Well, it's a lot nicer to look at than the male form, isn't it? And I think women would agree with that as well. The shape is more balanced, it's got nice curves, and you've got the breasts which balance the bottom part..."

Hey! This is a family paper. What about men? "You can have good-looking men as well, I suppose. It's just that a women's sexual parts are nicer than a man's"

Do you have conventionally male tastes in women? "Yeah, I think I have. Actually, there's a shop I keep meaning to go to which has just opened up in Soho which sells more kind of... demurely sexual things - they're not in-your-face sexy. I love to see... I don't get that much of a chance, you know, but I love to see..."

Apparently Nick Cave, Mr Dark Knight Of The Soul, gets turned on by busty secretary types. "I know what you're saying, yeah - towny lassies. Yeah, they're alright, them."

I must say, this is all a bit of a surprise, Jarvis. Just before, you were talking about homogeneity... "I don't even like the milk." ...and I was wondering: do you realise a lot of people reckon you're androgynous? "I wouldn't say I was. It's just that, well, there's no way I could be macho. It's just a physical fact. I couldn't pull it off."

Huh-huh. He said 'pull it off'.

"No, I'm not androgynous. I just like taking care of my appearance. Not that I'm in to designer labels, or anything. 'Oh, you're wearing Versace tonight.' I just like well-made clothes. And I'm not bothered what other people wear, either. You often get people coming up to you who just tell you about their eyeliner, and that's boring. I don't think people should be allowed to look interesting if they're actually boring. They should be prosecuted under the Trade Descriptions Act."

Sorry for prying but, to paraphrase a well-known pronouncement, are you a heterosexual who's never had a homosexual experience? "Yeah, yeah. I'm as straight as a dye. I mean, it's not anything to be proud of, it's just that I've never had the inclination. I can appreciate that some men look nice, but I don't feel any kind of attraction towards them."

Turns out Jarvis Cocker is a bit of an Iron John sort on the quiet. Not that you'd tell at first sight, of course: he makes Kate Moss look like Hattie Jacques.

Can thin men be lads? "Yeah. Candida's [Pulp keyboardist] boyfriend's thinner than me, and he's got very laddish tendencies." There you go, then. "It can be quite funny, that laddish thing," Jarv goes on. "Like the lads at school - they were always doing stupid things like sprayings 'Welcome To Colditz' on the school wall, or like, when my sister was about 15 and she was walking back from the chip shop eating some chips, and this gang of lads were going, 'Oi, do you want a sausage with them chips, love?' It's just daft."

I've just realised: Jarvis Cocker is the kid from "Kes", 25 years on.

PULPPEOPLE

There is more to Pulp than Jarvis Cocker, though. Without Pulp, Jarvis would make a credible space-age Frank Sinatra, crooning torch songs against some cheesy orchestral backdrop on the Rialto circuit, or appearing on the "Des O' Connor" show like some kind of diseased, anorexic lounge lizard in full second-hand regalia, a surreally suave cabaret turn for the Camden set.

But it's the other four members of Pulp who give Jarvis Cocker's glum bus-stop love stories and X-rated anecdotes an appropriately glam epic soundtrack, who give his comic bark a cosmic backing, who help achieve the perfect union of accessibility and experimentation.

Nick Banks (percussion), Russell Senior (guitar) and Steve Mackey (bass) make up the Morodorised/motorised rhythm section, while Candida Doyle supplies the battery of Farfisa Organs, arcane Stylophones and assorted synth relics which give Pulp their unique Seventies/Nineties sound, a smashing clash of the kitsch and the colossal, the tacky and the titanic.

What are Pulp? Pulp are: Acrylic acid. Dralon disco. Terylene techno. Formica funk. Or, to put it another way, Pulp are: Kraftwerk play Tindersticks - how else to define Pulp's shuddering depiction of Jarvis' sad bedsit melodramas? (in fact, Pulp love Kraftwerk, and Jarvis, now a fully qualified film-maker, has made videos for Tindersticks.)

But who are Pulp? And are the really as reptilian-strange as they look? The Four Other Members Of Pulp take it in turns to join me in the grim interview room to draw rough sketches in the air of their bandmates.

Nick Banks is first. "Russell always seems like the sensible one, the one who wears a shirt and tie," says the 30-year-old drummer. "He's very straight-laced, but it's like he's so straight, he's strange. If you see what I mean.

"Candida [32] is pretty strange as well. Especially when she gets giggly and drunk, which is usually on champagne these days," he adds, doing his best Noel Coward impression. Nick, another of Pulp's Venusian-next-door types tells me that, while none of Pulp are married, they are all in steady relationships, and that Russell lives with his girlfriend and their two kids in Sheffield. Nick and Russell still live in Sheffield, while Jarvis, Steve and Candida have all moved to London.

Banks also tells me that, whenever Pulp are on tour, he shares a room with Russell, apparently the excuse for all manner of sinister activities.

"He [Russell] takes to running round the room with no clothes on. Why? God knows. He runs a bath, and you'd think he'd then go in the bathroom. But no. He has to take all his clothes off, then start running the bath, and he'll be running round the room getting his things together. And I'll be there trying to watch 'Sportsnight', or something. lt's not a pretty sight."

Steve Mackey- Pulp's dashing 29-year-old ladykiller who shares a flat with Justin from Elastica and is a dead ringer for Alex James from Blur verifies this when he says, "You just don't enter the room when Nick and Russell are in there. You stay away. I've looked in at times and there's, like, pants down, breasts showing, all sorts."

It soon transpires that Banks has been fairly intimate with Jarvis Cocker as well.

"I went camping with Jarvis a few years back," he recalls, preparing to shatter some illusions, "and it really pissed it down, and there were eight of us, and we were all piled into this caravan, sleeping on the floor in sleeping bags. And l'm on the floor one night, and I look up, and there's Jarvis' bollocks in front of my face! And he's trying to lower himself onto his sleeping bag! And l'm, like, gerroff! Get'em out me way! Eurgh. Horrible. A terrible sight. A vision of hell. He doesn't wear much underwear, you see, so it was balls out for the lads. Frightening. It'll haunt me for the rest of me life, that."

Does it bemuse Nick that this "vision of hell" is, along with Damon Albarn, Liam Gallagher and Brett Anderson, one of the four most desired frontmen in British (indie) pop?

"Not bemuse. I find it quite funny, really, cos he's tall, he's thin, he's gangly, he's not athletic and he hasn't got all that great co-ordination... it's funny for people to see him as this sexual being when I've seen him trip up on the carpet so many times. It's nice that he can triumph over adversity and give hope to people."

Russell Senior, who is 34 but acts even older, tells me about forthcoming Pulp tracks "Pencil Skirt" ("Conventional Pulp fodder"), "Mile End" ("It's an alternative view of Blur's East End, the dark side of 'Parklife'") and "Monday Morning" ("it's bluebeat/ska - it sounds dreadful, but it's well within the boundaries of acceptable taste"). And he thinks Pulp, not Oasis, are the Rolling Stones to Blur's Beatles. "We're not kitsch," he states, flatly, "that's just the way Jarvis dresses. There's a dark, almost satanic edge to Pulp that I've always thought was quite Stones-y"

Russell is resigned to JC's dominance over Pulp in '95: "We used to be perceived more as a group, whereas it's all Jarv these days."

If there was a Pulp cartoon (set in some decrepit urban futurescope, all lurid neon reds and vivid emergency greens), it would be Russell who'd get the job of outlining the characters. In fact, some years back there was a Pulpzine with its very own Pulp caricatures.

Remembers Russell, "Nick was the pie-munching, beer-swilling, televised football kind of guy. Candida was in the toy shop, or on a multi-coloured cloud with the 'Care Bears'. Steve was the playboy with his cigars and women. Jarvis was all jumble sales and junk, space-hoppers and suspender belts. And I was the hardline, stern, don't-suffer-fools-gladly type."

Candida is last to enter the interview chamber. She isn't in a particularly fluffy-bunny-ish kind of mood today, having just chipped a tooth on some jelly babies, but she does reveal she's keen to make loads of money from Pulp, or at least enough to pay her 'leccy bill (she recently got cut off). She also says that being recognised in shops and travelling in limos "makes me feel like l'm drunk or on drugs, like l'm in an unreal world, kind of dizzy."

PULPLIFE

It'll get dizzier. Especially since "Common People" is going to be this years "Girls And Boys". And especially since Jarvis Cocker, who is already this year's eccentric media plaything, has presented "Top Of The Pops" and appeared on the cover of the "Top Of The Pops" magazine with Kylie Minogue as well as on "Pop Quiz", "The Brits" and "The Big Breakfast" (who had a "Jarvis Day"!), all in the last few months alone.

As Jarvis gets chauffeured to central London via his home in Ladbroke Grove (Hard Cash = Street Name), where he will pick up some singles (Duran Duran, A-Ha, Dollar, ELO, KC & The Sunshine Band, Soft Cell, Barry White, Hot Chocolate, Freeez, The Bluetones - Jarvis, I love you) to play on the Lamacq and Whiley show later on, I join him on the car's squashy black leather back seat and wonder whether success will make a failure of him. You know, Culture Of Despair, and all that.

"No, I can't imagine that I would," is the former assistant fishmonger's reply to my enquiry: would he ever Do A Kurt Or Richey? "Because I've done other things, I know there's always a way out, another world. I always say, 'Go and be a gardener, or something - there are other things apart from music that you can do.'" Right now, Jarvis is having too good a time to do get depressed. Like appearing on every TV show under the sun...

"It's important to go on those things and not be a cheesemaster," he announces, dryly, as the Ford Granada glides through the mid-afternoon traffic. "I mean, people say, 'Why don't you go on with your cock out and say f*** off and do a dump', but that's immature and stupid. That kind of rebellious behaviour just isn't rebellious any more."

Or presenting awards on the Brits... "In those situations, you do seek solace in drink. There were all these people in these Portakabins backstage like Elton John and Sting. I went to the toilet and suddenly realised I was pissing next to Tom Jones! He had his cock out in the little urinal next to me."

Jarvis says he's not likely to surround himself with bodyguards like Prince did at the Brits ('What kind of danger are you in at a place like that? I mean, Terence Trent D'Arby's hardly going to Ninja you, is he?"), even though he got beaten up quite badly in Islington last Christmas. Generally, he's rather delighted that, after 15 years of playing the lead role in his own sordid tales of sleazy low-rent romance, Pulp are getting some reward.

"I suppose if you have a certain amount of success, you feel like you've had a kind of kitemark on you," he says as the car pulls up outside Broadcasting House and he prepares to dedicate his theme song, Dennis "Minder" Waterman's "I Could Be So Good For You", to the entire British nation "Do you know what I mean? Because I always used to feel like a marginal character, kind of stuck on the sidelines. And now I feel like, finally, I'm fit for human consumption."

[braveclementine]

Chapter 19/20

Warnings: None (anyone can read this story)

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. I do not condone any copying of this.

𝓣𝓗𝓔 men called Loki and Thor were coming today.

I was curled up in the corner with a stuffed animal, cuddling it. It was white like me, with several different black spots on it. Bucky called it a panda bear. I thought it just looked like an oreo with eyes.

It didn't taste like an oreo though.

Not that I was supposed to know what oreos tasted like anyways.

But it was Sams fault for leaving them out.

Even though half of them freaked and took me down to Bruce to see if I was going to die from chocolate poisoning.

But I didn't.

So I think I should be allowed to eat more.

Bruce wasn't here at the moment, not wanting to greet Loki when he came in. Apparently Loki had done bad things to Bruce, so they weren't on good terms.

Actually, none of them seemed to be on good terms with this Loki person. Wanda and Vision had taken Billy and Tommy away too, far across the country and once Pepper found out, she said she wasn't coming back to Stark Tower with Morgan until Loki was gone.

So I assumed that Loki was a bad person.

Bucky and Steve sat together at the table while they waited. They were in a heated discussion about cake. I liked cake, especially with vanilla icing.

I wasn't allowed to eat it though.

Tony on the other hand was sitting next to me, petting me. He seemed extremely stressed about the whole Loki situation so I gave him lots of kisses to try and cheer him up. It seemed to work for the most part.

Nat on the other hand, looked utterly bored. She was sitting up on the table, cleaning the dirt from under her nails with a blade.

Road was standing near Tony, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't talking to anyone, just staring out the window.

Meanwhile, Fury was on the far other side of the room with a woman named Maria. I hissed at him whenever he came within ten feet of me.

He never came within ten feet of me.

Sam and Clint were having a loud conversation about pop tarts, and whether we had enough in the Tower for Thor. I wondered what a pop tart was and if I could eat it.

I was hungry.

"Can I have food?" I asked Tony, rolling over onto my back.

Tony smiled, rubbing my belly. "You're adorable Blizzard."

"No, I'm hungry." I whined, rolling back onto my stomach to bat at his legs. "Give me food!"

Suddenly, there was a loud crash of loud noise and I looked up just in time to see a roaring rainbow rushing down from the sky.

Interesting.

But the loud noise also made me run under the table and slink down.

"Aww, come here Blizz." Tony said softly, reaching under the table to pull me out. "It's just thunder." He looked up at Road, "Did he do it on the lawn again?"

"Nope, he used the helipad like you asked him to." Road replied, turning away from the window.

It didn't take long for two men to walk through the doors. Everyone straightened up, standing if they had been sitting- including Tony who left me on the floor by his feet.

I pounced back on the oreo, rolling around with it, before I settled down to get a good look at the men.

One had brown, spiky hair, looking like he was trying to copy that one vampires hairdo from that one TV show. . . Elijah, I think? He was very buff, with large arms and two different coloured eyes. He had a larger axe hammer thing in one hand and was wearing silver armor with a red cape.

He grinned widely, and said, "Hello again my friends!"

"Hello Thor." Nat said sweetly. "Welcome back."

I turned my attention to the second man, who looked extremely uncomfortable. He had long black hair that was curly. His eyes were blue and shimmery. His face was pale and smooth, much unlike his brothers, which had the trimmings of a beard. He was tall and thin, and any muscles he might have were hidden under his green clothing.

It was as though I had been hit with a lightning bolt.

I got to my feet, slowly padding over to where the man in green- Loki- was standing.

"Blizzard come here." Tony called quickly, but I didn't listen.

I padded straight up to the God of Mischief, and batted his shoes.

"Pick me up." I demanded.

Loki bent down, picking me up in his hands.

We stared at each other curiously before his eyes shifted down to my paws. Specifically the back paw where my only black mark was. His eyes widened, staring back at me.

"Y/N. . . " He whispered so softly I could barely hear him so I knew the others could not.

"Daddy." I cried.

He set me back down on the floor, squatting down with me. I put my paws on his knee. "Help me!"

"Blizzard, come here girl." Bucky pleaded. He sounded nervous and I wondered why. Why were they so scared of him?

I remembered everything now. My entire life. Every moment.

Loki stood back up and turned to Thor, "Give me your cloak."

Thor raised an eyebrow- I remembered him too now- but swung the red cloak over to Loki.

Loki put a hand over me and I could feel the magic tingling in my bones. I could feel it changing me, helping me grow, until I was no longer a kitten, but a human.

"What the fuck?" Bucky, Steve, and Tony all asked together.

I sat there with my E/C eyes still on my father. My long H/C hair flowed down my shoulders, covering my entire back and my father bent down, wrapping my naked body in my Uncle's cloak.

I could feel the strange tattoos on my arms tingling and everything now made sense. If I looked down, I could see the crown shaped birthmark on my hip. The one that had looked almost like a black tattoo on my paw.

"Holy shit." Bucky cursed again.

I turned to face them, keeping close to my father, afraid of their reactions.

Bucky's face was the one I saw first. His blue eyes were wide, his face slack with shock. He had taken a few steps towards me from when I had padded over to my father as a kitten. Steve was next, still frozen where he had been before, his blue eyes full of suspicion and uncertainty.

Tony looked completely taken aback, having sat down in a chair, a hand covering his mouth as he rested his elbow on his leg.

"Can someone just explain what happened?" Sam finally asked.

Loki glared at all of them, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "This is Y/N Lokidottir. And if the name doesn't give it away, she is my daughter."

"I didn't know you had a daughter." Nat said. "Thor never told us-"

"She went missing a long time ago." Thor interrupted. He gave me a loving glance. "Before New York, before all of that. Before you even knew of us."

"Then. . . how. . . what. . ." Tony seemed absolutely shocked.

"I was kidnapped during one of the invasions." I whispered. Bucky and Steve both jerked upon hearing my voice, their hands flying to where the last soulmate tattoo was. "There was a witch with them, who turned me into a cat and hid me in her pocket. When Odin banished her to Midgard, I was taken with her. I stayed with her for many years but then there was a problem. She erased my memories and the next thing I remember is ending up in Mr. Peters house."

"Which Witch?" Thor asked.

"I think her name was Agatha." I said softly.

"Well." Fury drawled from the back of the room. "I would hate to say I told you so. . . who am I kidding? I told you so."

"I'm not a spy." I said, but I couldn't even be angry about it.

"Maybe not." Fury said while Loki's arms tightened around me, "But I did say that any cat with supernatural powers was not really a cat."

I gave a nod of assent. Perhaps that was true.

"Well!" My father sounded more cheerful than before. "I suppose my er- visit will have to be cut short then." He looked at my Uncle Thor. "Mother will want to see her especially."

"Yes, of course!" Thor said boisterously. He was just as loud as I remembered, but I was only glad that I was back with my family again."

"Wait!" Bucky said hurriedly. "She can't leave yet!"

My heart twisted painfully.

"Why not?" Loki asked angrily.

"She's our soulmate, you can't just take her away from us." Steve said.

"Ah." Loki said with distaste. "She will not be joining your soulmate stuff. In-"

"You can't make that decision for her."

"He's not." Thor said with obvious regret. "It is our law. Gods cannot be soulmates with humans. Our lifespans far out live yours and it would only lead to pain and suffering on Y/Ns part when you die in twenty or thirty or forty years and she lives for a thousand or two more."

"It is against our law to do so." Loki added. "Doing so would banish her from Asgard for life."

"We have waited for her for forever." Bucky said. I think he was trying to sound angry, but all he did was sound hurt and that hurt me too.

"It will be fine." Loki spat. "You do not need her. You already have two mewling quim on the side already."

Bucky's mouth dropped like he had been slapped, while Steve sat down in his chair, looking mortified. Both of them realizing a lot of things at that moment. Tony glared furiously at the two of them, and then glared at Nat who was blushing just slightly.

"Father." I whispered. That wasn't fair. Now that I had my memories, I had taken a fair share of lovers into my bed as well. It was technically against the law in Asgard to shag outside of marriage, but no one listened to it. It had become a useless law.

"No Y/N. I cannot see you get hurt like that."

I took a deep breath and said, "Steve and Bucky are also immortal Father. It is different with them."

Thor and Loki looked at each other.

"We will have to speak to our father." Thor said, sounding troubled. "Perhaps it would be safer for you to stay here at the moment."

Loki looked disappointed, but nodded as well.

"Someone get her some clothes." He snapped at the others, before he and Thor drew me away into a corner.

"Are you sure this is what you want sweetheart?" Loki asked softly.

"Yes dad." I whispered. "I have found that I already love them. I think it would hurt more to not be with them. And they really are immortal so that should make a difference in the law."

"I will speak to Odin about it." Loki said, sounding troubled as well by this idea. "Hopefully mother will help persuade as well. I love you."

"I love you too." I mumbled, hugging him tightly. He kissed the top of my head.

"Here Blizz- Y/N." Sam said, holding out some clothes.

"Thanks birdbrain." I said softly.

He grinned, "You've been hanging around Tony to much."

Loki put up screens to block the others out while he and Thor turned so that I could get dressed. It did take me a moment to figure out how to wear clothes, and when I was done, I recognized one of Tony's AC/DC shirts and Bucky's Slytherin detailed sweatpants.

Loki pursed his lips when he saw the clothing. "I will bring you proper Asgardian clothing when Thor and I return."

I hugged Thor too and it took a while for the both of them to actually leave, as we did not want to part, so soon after finding each other again.

I suddenly felt rather self conscious when I was left with them by myself.

"Can we talk alone?" Bucky asked awkwardly.

I nodded and the three of us left the room. 

⬅️➡️

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

For the fanfic passage game!

#####

Scott walked past the bathroom wall and stepped into view. He carried a small pink bakery box, which he set onto the nightstand on what appeared would be his side of the huge bed then toed off his shoes and socks.

“Cool. I might snag the vodka, or I might just drink water,” he responded, his gaze falling on the TV while he unbuttoned the shirt he’d worn to the restaurant. “You’re watching this depressing piece of shit?” Scott’s nose wrinkled in acknowledgement of the movie before turning his attention to Bucky’s prone form.

“What? I like the guy in the uniform. He’s hot,” Bucky protested and turned his head just as Scott’s shirt slid off his shoulders, leaving his mission partner bare chested and him staring until he made himself look away.

Shrugging a little and moving over to the closet to return his shirt to the garment bag that held the suit jacket already, Scott contemplated Bucky’s taste in movies.

“Yeah, but that poor bastard doesn’t even get the girl. That actor rarely does in movies. Always getting passed over for some other asshole,” he fussed at Bucky.

Bucky watched while Scott tugged out pj pants from his endless suitcase, and when it was apparent that his teammate wasn’t going to change in the bathroom, he tried really hard not to ogle all that naked flesh that came into view. Scott clearly didn’t worry about modesty, and Bucky wondered when a portion of his brain became prudish enough to feel he had to look away.

Of course, he did sneak peeks until, regrettably, that perfect ass was hidden away by the plain pair of sleep pants.

“Yeah, there is that, and you’re right. The dame in this has no taste. What was she thinking? Marrying the guy she fights with constantly when she coulda had the upstanding guy? I don’t get it either,” Bucky agreed with Scott, and his eyes followed the other man back over to the bed once his clothes had been packed up out of the way. Whereas Bucky had draped his over the back of a chair. The shirt was a lost cause anyway.

“I guess he was just too boring for the storyline or something,” Scott said with another shrug. He fell onto his side of the bed and propped up his pillows. He hadn’t taken out the contacts yet, though he’d set his sleep shades onto the nightstand with his visor in case they were needed.

Bucky’s head tilted slightly, drinking in Scott’s relaxed form, the way the X-Men leader was deceptively muscled unlike the way he and Steve had been bulked up by the serum. He tipped his gaze a little farther and caught the bakery box on the nightstand, reminding him of the reason Scott had gone out in the first place.

“This movie gets a lot of debate back at the tower from time to time,” Bucky went on and shifted until he moved closer to the center of the bed, therefore closer to Scott.

This scene is the post-mission scene, the wrap up of the story that leads into the love/sex scene, the start of what moves these two characters from mission partners to potential boyfriends. Scott comes in with gourmet cupcakes because it is Bucky's birthday, and they're not back home to celebrate the day in style. (No doubt once they're back home in NY, the Avengers will plan a full-fledged birthday party for Bucky, but until then, he's got Scott and cupcakes and all the sexual energy raised from their cover story and flirting.)

What goes through my mind while writing most of my fics is "Where can I stick in some silly little Easter Eggs? Where can I make fun little references to the actors known for playing these characters, where can I exploit other references that fans might/should recognize?" And in this scene, what better movie for Bucky to have on than The Notebook, which stars James Marsden (Scott Summers) and Rachel McAdams (Dr. Christine Palmer in Doctor Strange; Irene Adler in Sherlock Holmes with RDJ; Sacha Pfeiffer in Spotlight with Mark Ruffalo, John Slattery, Michael Keaton, and Liev Schreiber - all Marvel actors). The comments made regarding Marsden's character in The Notebook can apply to Scott Summers - losing out the girl to that other asshole (Logan), and that he guessed the guy was considered too boring, which is how so many people view Scott (too boring, too uptight, too vanilla, too whatever).

The discussion of The Notebook in the full fanfic goes further past the last bit quoted up there:

“You guys debate The Notebook?  Like...is that supposed to be team bonding?  It’s not like the movie’s deep or anything.” 

He couldn’t take his eyes off Scott, and Bucky decided he wanted to kiss that wrinkle of skin below Scott’s brow because it was too cute when he scrunched his nose. 

“There are just a lot of views on it.  Tony doesn’t like the actress...or he likes her a little too much?  I don’t know, but he says she can’t be trusted.  Strange says –“

Scott’s eyebrow arched as he was halfway to reaching for the box. 

“Stephen Strange watches movies with you guys?” he asked, discovering more interesting and weird things about the Avengers. 

“Sometimes.  Anyway, he likes the actress a lot.  Bruce is just meh about her.  Figures she’d be the type to be a good coworker when she’s not choosing the wrong dude in movies.”

And this brings in the other references for Rachel McAdams - Tony (RDJ as Sherlock Holmes) would care about her but view her as untrustworthy (Irene Adler couldn't be trusted to Sherlock and kept fucking him over), Strange liked her a lot (she played Christine), and Bruce thought she'd make a good coworker (they were good coworkers in Spotlight).

Most of what went into crafting this part of the dialogue was to hit all those references without actually spelling out - oh she looks like Irene Adler, she looks like Sacha Pfeiffer, she looks like Stephen's ex-girlfriend. It's a fun dance when I put these references into fics, make the descriptions detailed enough for people to pick up on the references without spelling most of them out. I'm not sure why tossing these references into my fics are so important to me, but they're a lot of fun, especially when people catch them and actually comment on them.

Fanfic Passage Game.

[purrvaire]

I don’t really go here but steddie with 3 from the idiots in love prompts?

[ * dumps 1.5k words of absolute nonsense on your desk * thanks my dear for always sending me prompts, at this point you're single-handedly fueling my motivation to write :') hope you like it <3 ]

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3. And why do you think i’d ever like them? I have taste

Eddie maybe is going soft in his old age - just turned twenty one despite the attempts of the Upside Down to keep him away from drinking legally. Not that underage drinking is the most illegal thing he’s ever done, but still. It’s either that or admitting that he’s largely underestimated the munchkins' ability to meddle combined with their total disregard for the word no.

Either way, he fails to recognize he’s being ambushed long after he’s allowed Max inside the trailer and fed her the rock-hard cookies Wayne baked the day before in a burst of culinary inspiration. To her credit, she doesn’t even flinch when the first bite threatens to dislocate her jaw.

At that point, anyhow, Red has gotten nail polish apparently out of thin air and is waving her slender, little hands in front of his face expectantly.

“Don’t you have other people to harass in your free time?”

Max levels him with an unimpressed stare. “As if me being here is not the highlight of your day.”

Eddie sniffs. “Lies and slanders. I was busy.”

“Wanking is not being busy, Edward.”

Eddie gasps outraged. “I am appalled by your language. Where is the respect for your elders?”

“I thought you believed in challenging the authority”, Max says, her voice saccharine.

Eddie jabs a finger at her. “Not when the authority is me. Now, let me do your hands and then go be annoying elsewhere.”

Max hands him a periwinkle blue bottle and extends her hand with a sigh. As if she is the one doing Eddie a favor in letting him paint her nails.

The nerve.

“You know,” Max says, a couple of brush strokes in. “You’re starting to sound just like Steve.”

Eddie snorts. “I absolutely am not. Don’t speak jock just yet.”

Max waves her other hand impatiently. “I’m talking about the whole parenting schtick you inflict on us. Respect your elders. Don’t go where I can’t see you. Behave or else.”, she lists in a poor impression of his and Steve’s voices.

“Quit wriggling”, Eddie mutters. “I won’t be held accountable if my chef d’oeuvre gets messed up.”

Max cocks an eyebrow, as if he just proved her point - which, Eddie can admit, he kinda did -, but, blessedly decided to keep still. “Anyway”, she resumes, “I’m right. Steve even says we’ll make him go gray before his time, geez.”

“Can’t say he’s wrong. You dipshits are a handful.”

“I think Steve would make a gorgeous milf", she muses. "Don’t you?”

For a moment, Eddie actually contemplates the thought of an older Harrington, his luscious, thick hair all gone silver gray. The idea should be hilarious, it really should.

But, as his brain unhelpfully supplies, there’s no realm of possibility in which Steve Harrington is not painfully attractive.

When he comes back to his senses, he sees Max grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Shut up”, he says immediately. He starts on her other hand with renewed focus.

Coming to his house just to put the virtual image of silver-fox Harrington in his brain.

Rude.

Max bats her lashes from behind the thick frame of her new glasses. “So, you do think Steve would make a gorgeous milf.”

“Never said such a thing.”

“But you thought it.”

“Did not.”

“You liiiike him.”

“And why do you think I’d ever like Steve?” Eddie drawls, feigning disinterest. “I have taste.”

Max snorts loudly. “Dude, you have many qualities but taste in men is not one of them.”

Eddie throws his hands in the air. “You don’t even know who I dated!”

Of course, calling it dating is a bit of a stretch. Living in a conservative little town in the middle of nowhere Indiana has never done wonders for his lovelife, and that was even before the murder charges.

“I saw the posters in your room”, she points out. “Besides, you and Steve are both lame, so it’s a match made in heaven.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Geez, thanks. I’ll make sure to tell him the next time I see him. Maybe I can’t get him to disown you.”

“And what would I inherit anyway? Your joint collection of hairspray cans?”

Eddie, with a surprisingly good aim, throws the dripping brush right at her nose. Max scrambles away with a shriek before retaliating with what remained from her half munched cookie.

Ten minutes later, they’re both lying down on the floor. Max’s nails are messed up beyond repair, crumbles are scattered in every corner of the room  and Eddie has got nail polish in his hair.

He inspects the raggedy carpet Wayne had installed some years ago in front of the sofa.

“Dude, this will be hell to clean later”, he complains, inching away from the bright pink stain and getting more comfortable on the floor.

“Tough luck”, Max replies unbothered, her head propped up on his legs. Then, more softly, she adds: “You know, it’s okay if you do like Steve.”

“I don’t”, Eddie replies weakly. Max ignores him.

“Sure, he’s lame and sometimes he nags too much, but he’s good, you know. Safe.”

She quiets, letting her words sit for a while between them. The late afternoon sun filters through curtains, making Max’s hair shine red gold. The noise of tires scratching on the gravel coming from the window temporarily fills the silence.

Safe, Eddie thinks. That’s a word he wouldn’t think he’d ever apply to Steve Harrington.

And yet.

“Yeah”, he says. “He is.”

He feels more than see Max nodding. “And also he’s hot”, she adds through a smirk.

Eddie laughs, pulling a little at her hair. “My, my, what would Lucas say if he knew you go around calling other boys hot.”

“What I say is my business”, Max replies dryly. “And you’re not denying it. You liiiike him.”

“Not this shit again!” he groans, but he can feel the smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

“And you think Steve is…”

“You think I’m what?”

Eddie scrambles up so fast that Max shrieks and almost bangs her head on the floor.

Steve looks at them both with a bemused expression on his face.

Eddie blinks up at him. “Harrington, what- what are you doing here?”

“The door was open”, Steve supplies unhelpfully. “And I’m here to pick up Max, didn’t she tell you?”

Max, still half sprawled on the floor, has the audacity to smirk.

“It must have slipped my mind.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. What the fuck did you do? he tries to convey.

Watch and learn, dumbass, Max’s lazy grin says back.

“Steve, actually, I think I might head home, after all”, she says, with an apologetic tone that would fool no one who has spent more than a minute in her company. “I’m tired and my hip feels funny”.

Eddie would gasp at the audacity of pulling the I-barely-survived-the-monster-fucked-up-dimension card if he was not worried about her next move.

Steve, bless his kind soul, falls for it. “That’s what you get for sitting on the floor without pillows and shit”, he grumbles, but he crouches down and bodily picks Max up and helps her on her feet.

Which, mind you, it’s not that difficult since Max is skin and bones but Eddie might need a minute or two here to recover from this image.

Thank fuck, he’s already on the floor or he would have swooned.

Then, Max goes in for the kill. “Well, since you’re already here you could hang out with Eddie instead. Be lame together or whatever.”

Eddie’s eyes pop so wide open that they threaten to fall on the floor beside him.

He kinda wants to scream so that was your plan all along! while dramatically clutching at his fake pearls or something.

Harrington looks down at him, a half smile on his face. “Well, if Eddie doesn’t mind, why not”, he shrugs.

Eddie doesn’t know if it’s wishful thinking or not, but he thinks Steve looks almost hopeful.

“Yeah, sure, whatever”, he manages to say.

“Cool.” Steve claps his hands. “I’ll take Mayfield home and then we can hang out.”

“I live literally next door, Mom.”

Eddie watches them walking all the way to the Mayfield’s trailer and very pointedly does not freak out at his evening prospects. Max shoves Steve rather forcefully for someone who had just claimed that her hip hurt and he ruffles her hair.

He hears them bickering until their voices fade and he goes inside in search for a movie to watch with Steve. 

***

(“Are you sure he doesn’t know that we set this up?”

“We? I did everything while you stood there looking dumb.”

“That’s what you told me to do, actually.”

“Whatever. And yes, I am. God, you’re both so besotted with each other it pains me.”

“Robin said the same thing.”

“She’s right. I don’t know why I don’t hang out with her instead of you idiots.”

“God forbid. You’ll start ganging up on me worse than you already do.”

“Scared, Harrington?”

“As every wise man should.” A pause. “So… you’re sure he likes me.”

“Positive.”

“100% sure?”

“Yes. God.” A shove. “Go get your man.”

Steve smiles and ruffles her hair. “Will do, Mayfield. Will do.”)

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send me a prompt from this list <3

[bulkyphrase]

Steve Rogers Very Rare Pairs

One of my favorite romanogers writers has recently started a Steve/Frigga fic that I absolutely adore, so I thought I would put together a list of some of my other very rare pair faves.

Untitled Steve Rogers/Jason Wilkes story - there's nothing for this couple on Ao3, but this very fun ficlet by @starstruckmyths made me fall in love with the ship.

Red, White and Blue, Blue, Blue by determamfidd (Hank McCoy/Steve Rogers, Teen And Up Audiences, 4,232 words)

Summary: (or, The Origins of 'Oh My Stars and Garters') Written for a kinkmeme prompt. Steve draws the people he knows. He draws them over and over, trying to draw the place he fits in. He has hundreds and hundreds of sketches, and he usually gets them right. Until the day Fury tells them that the representative from the X-Men is here, and Steve can't draw him, can't pin him down at all.

The rest are below the cut!

A Ghost Should Be So Practical by elise_509 (Logan/Steve Rogers, Explicit, 11,826 words)

Summary: Logan doesn’t hear what happened to Steve until they find him in the ice 70 years later. By then, Steve’s just Captain America to him, and Captain America doesn’t mean a thing to Wolverine.

blue, purple, orange, black by Ebenelephant (@ebenelephant) (Nebula/Steve Rogers, Teen And Up Audiences, 3,280 words)

Summary: The sky over Terra is blue. - or, the Man out of Time and the last Daughter of Thanos hold hands and watch the sun set

Cupid Clint by vassalady (@vassalady) (Nick Fury/Steve Rogers, Teen And Up Audiences, 1,422 words)

Summary: What Natasha actually says is, “Steve was the ex-director’s boyfriend.” What Clint hears, however, is very different. “Steve’s the director’s ex-boyfriend.” In which Clint decides to get Steve and Nick back together even though they weren't dating in the first place.

Body to Body by quigonejinn (Pepper Potts/Steve Rogers, Teen And Up Audiences, 3,243 words)

Summary: In March, Steve goes home to his old neighborhood. The fic in which nobody dies.

Chef Boy-Ar-Do-Me by MysticMoonhigh (Steve Rogers/Chef Boyardee, Explicit, 1,097 words)

Summary: Chef Boyardee and Steve Rogers get a little bit saucy

wired in by introductory (Steve Rogers/JARVIS, Explicit, 470 words)

Summary: "«Captain Rogers, if I may be of some assistance?»"

wonderful electric by introductory (Steve Rogers/JARVIS, Mature, 1,739 words)

Summary: "So, you and JARVIS, huh?" says Tony, trying for casual. "And to think it took you a week to master an iPod. I mean, JARVIS is a real catch -- course he'd be, it runs in the family -- but I was sort of under the impression that your tastes ran more towards, uh -- " "Organics," volunteers Bruce. "People," says Tony.

Yes Means Yes by Cluegirl (Steve Rogers/JARVIS, Not Rated, 940 words)

Summary: Ask Box Fic -- BeautyTruthandStrangeness asked for Steve/Jarvis. This is her fault.

Glitter & Gold by PandasaurusRex (@xcaptain-winghead) (Steve Rogers/JARVIS, Mature, 1,048 words)

Summary: "Captain Rogers, I can't help but notice that you seem agitated, and your vitals are rising. Is everything alright?" Oh, God. Steve felt his cheeks flush, the heat spreading under Irish complexion in a rosy shade of pink. He had a feeling he was projecting, but he could have sworn that there was a teasing lilt to J.A.R.V.I.S.' voice—a knowing lilt—and it just made Steve squirm that much more as his cock filled out the rest of the way. Damn it.

Interdimensional Incidents by copperbadge (@copperbadge) (Steve Rogers/Sif, Mature, 10,002 words)

Summary: When Steve Rogers saw Sif of Asgard chop a Frost Giant's head off, love was sure to follow. It's just your typical Boy Meets Goddess story.

Taking Liberty by justanotherStonyfan (Steve Rogers/Statue of Liberty, Explicit, 18,018 words)

Summary: Somewhere between Pygmalion and Ghostbusters 2 lies the best night of Steve's life (or, the one where Steve gets pegged by the Statue of Liberty's 12" strapon) The how doesn't matter, the why doesn't either. The point is, the Statue of Liberty is alive, a couple of inches shorter than Steve, and very interested to find out just how much Steve can take. Literally.

You Only Live Twice by babesrgrs (Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers, Not Rated, 8,504 words)

Summary: Returning the stones leads Steve into taking a more pro-active role in the 2012 alternate timeline than he probably should. Returning the stones leads Steve into taking a more pro-active role in the life of his younger counterpart than he probably should.

New Dawn by babesrgrs (Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers, Not Rated, 7,500 words)

Summary: The future as Steve knew it: fighting flying aliens, fighting Hydra again, fighting for Bucky, taking himself as a lover, fighting a corrupt government... Wait - what?

[imyourbratzdoll]

For the Christmas elves! Maybe Santa uses magic and makes them bigger as their gift 😏

hello baby, I'm sorry this took a while, and I've also combined another request with this one. I hope you like it!

summary - santa gives both you and the elves a gift, making them human-sized and letting them use you through a glory hole.

warning - smut, degrading, glory hole, swearing, slut and whore used, overstimulation, voyeurism, creampie, fingering, oral sex, pussyjob, exhibitionism, cuckolding, polyamorous

18+ only please, the gif and header I use aren't mine.

You didn’t know what you were in for when you woke up that morning. You blindly followed your husband to a room with a hole in the wall, listening to him as he told you to strip and lie down. He kissed your lips softly before walking out of the room to the other side, where the tiny men lined up, anxiously waiting. “Are you guys ready?” They nod, buzzing with excitement, Ari waves his hand, and the magic begins. Each tiny elf begins to grow, becoming larger and larger until they are as nearly as tall as their boss. They all look at each other.

“Damn, you guys are even uglier when bigger.” Lee huffs, scowling at each of them.

“Shut up, fatso. You aren’t no beauty either.” Ransom grumbles. His eyes moved down his body, having not been this large for a long time. Steve stumbles forward, giggling and bringing Ransom into a little hug, which causes Ransom’s eyes to widen. “What the hell are you doing?”

“We’re even cuter now!” Steve giggles, looking around at everyone in wonder. “I’m so happy!” 

Ari clears his throat, gaining their attention again and missing the elves as they were easier to handle. “Alright, Y/n is ready for you guys. All you have to do is get in a line and decide who goes first.” He walks out of the room, groaning when the chaos begins, all the men pushing each other, swearing and hitting one another, and while everyone is preoccupied, Steve manages to get to the front. Ari enters the room you were in, sitting in a chair in front of you. “Hey, honey. You going to be good for the elves?” You nod, whimpering when you feel something touch your puffy clit.

Steve giggles, rubbing and flicking it before his fingers slide in, curling into you as they thrust in and out. “Is so soft and warm!” The other men grumble, anxiously waiting their turn as they watch Steve take you apart with his fingers. “Feel good?” You whimper, nodding as your eyes roll to the back of your head. A soft slap makes you look up and see your husband looking down at you with a raised brow. You quickly reply to Steve with a moaned ‘yes’, begging him to pick up the pace, needing to feel him more. Steve stares with wonder as he fills you repeatedly with his thick fingers, loving that he can bring you apart instead of it being the other way around. His thumb connects with your puffy clit, curling his fingers a certain way as you scream, your head is thrown back, and your back arches as your cream coats him. Steve slowly pulls them out and sticks them in his mouth, giggling at your taste.

He’s pushed aside by Jake, who quickly kneels and devours your sopping cunt. Not wasting a second before licking and sucking the juices that leak from your tight hole, leading up to your sensitive puffy clit, and sucking it into his mouth, his eyes roll to the back of his head as your arousal enters his mouth. “So sweet!” You moan, gripping Ari’s hands as Jake takes you apart, feeling your mind go numb as his tongue slithers inside you, thrusting into you, fucking you. You scream, your walls clenching around his tongue as he devours you, taking you apart with only his tongue, wondering how they could feel so good. The others palm their growing bulges, watching your legs quiver as Jake sucks your swollen clit. Your back arches as you cum, coating his face with your arousal. “Mmm, so good.” He stands, licking his lips and sucking your juices off his face and fingers. 

Johnny pushes him out of the way, quickly releasing his cock and sliding his tip and throbbing base between your puffy lips, his swollen tip hitting your overstimulated clit with each thrust. His eyes roll into the back of his head, never having felt something so amazing before as he rubs his cock and balls all over your wet cunt. “Damn, you feel so good. I will mark you with my seed, paint you all pretty.” His pace picks up, and his head is thrown back as he uses you while his other hand quickly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of your knickers, bringing it to his nose and sniffing, a loud groan falls from his lips, eyes rolling back at the feel and smell of you. Cum explodes from the both of you, your juices coat his thick cock, and his cream covers your little pussy. 

Lee grumbles, pushing Johnny away as he rolls his eyes. He pulls out his thick member, stroking it as he lines it up with your throbbing hole before slowly going inside. His eyes roll back, and his head falls, groaning. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, you little fucking slut. I bet you like being used by men like a whore. It’s all your good for.” Your mouth falls open, and your nails dig into Ari as Lee stretches you out with his cock. He sets a brutal pace, gripping your hips as he slams into you, grunting as your walls clench around him, squeezing him. “All your good for is pleasure, serving us like the little cockwhore you are.” Lee thrusts harder and faster, his chubby belly covering his view of his thick cock, stretching you out. “You're going to cum for me, slut.” His hand comes down, rubbing your puffy clit as you squirt around him, your vision going blank as he fills you with cum.

Frank pushes him aside as the now large man excitedly steps forward, deciding to do something different. His hand comes down and spanks your puffy button, giggling as you squirm and moan. “Aww, you’re so sensitive! It’s so cute!” He pinches your clit, and squeals as your juices flow out, causing him to scoop it up with his fingers and suck on them, humming as he walks away. You sigh, sinking into Ari before a whimper escapes you.

Lloyd huffs. “You really thought it was over? There’s like three of us left.” He strokes his throbbing cock, lining it up with your used cunt and pushing in, beginning to thrust in and out of you with his hands gripping your hips. “I told you I could fuck her better.” Lloyd slams into you, groaning and swearing as your walls wrap tightly around him. “How the fuck are you still so tight after being split open constantly?” You squeal, feeling your vision go white as you are used, and fucked like you’re nothing, the thought causes your core to snap and your arousal to leak out, covering Lloyd. “Fuck! You fucking slut, cumming so fucking early.” He growls, slamming harder and faster into you before releasing thick amounts of his cum inside you.

Curtis is next, strolling up and shoving his thick fingers inside your used cunt. “I’d rather be using your mouth right now, but this is all I’ve got.” He curls them, thrusting them in and out as his thumb presses into your swollen clit, enjoying the squeals that escape you and how your legs shake from how intense the pleasure has become. “Such a little slut, you’re so fucking useless unless it’s this.” You shiver, feeling your juices squirt freely out, your cheeks heating up as the men degrade you over cumming so early. 

Ransom steps up, rubbing his swollen head against your overstimulated cunt, slowly pushing inside your still-tight hole. A groan falls from his lips with how tight you still are and how wet your cunt is. Without anyone seeing, he strokes your hip softly as he slowly picks up the pace, thrusting into you more lovingly than anything. Ransom hears Lee and the other three shits snickering, so he begins to pound into you, feeling your walls spasm around his throbbing cock as your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. He bites his lip, eyes fluttering closed as his balls tighten, pumping into you faster before exploding and filling you to the brim with his seed. Your juices coat his base, leaving a white ring around his cock.

Ari gently strokes your cheek before waving his hand. The elves turn back to tiny men, and you end up in your bed with your body feeling refreshed and taken care of. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[adultswim2021]

Moral Orel #22: “Repression” | May 7, 2007 - 12:15AM | S02E12

Principal Fakey’s ongoing fling with Nurse Bendy is the focus of this episode. Bendy is a vapid but young and attractive school nurse, and Principal Fakey is just one of Moralton’s many lame, weak-willed and terrible men. Fakey is so consumed with guilt that he shies away from the details while in confession (we’ve seen a similar scene earlier in the series, but I forget what episode). Reverend Putty just wants to get some onanistic thrills from the sordid details, but Fakey can’t bring himself to go too deep into. Putty’s frustration stems only from being denied wack-off fodder. 

Orel, overhearing this, seeks wisdom from his father, who teaches him about repression. He also extols the virtues of being an authority figure. Not only do authority figures know best, but they are also the single authority of their own emotions and their personal truths. Orel relays this to Principal Fakey, who becomes a master of denial. In fact, while thrusting into Nurse Bendy, he learns that he has an STD (apparently school nurses can test for STDs). Oblivious to the fact he clearly got it from her (she speaks knowledgeably about how to treat said STD suggesting she has first-hand experience with it), Fakey immediately throws his poor, suffering wife out, believing that she must have given it to him.

There’s some funny dialogue in this one, and the episode is consistently funny, but it’s not VERY funny. There are very typical Moral Orel style jokes, but fails to be anything truly special. Mid-grade Orel. Not knocking it! I’ll take mid-grade Orel! 

I genuinely wonder if this is based on this bit from The Guide For the Married Man. I’ve basically lived my whole life based on the teachings of this sketch.

EPHEMERA CORNER

MAIL BAG

Jason Alexander admitted on 20/20 just now that he thought Michael Richards racial tirade was funny. He's crying about it as we speak.

I also thought it was funny but you don’t see ME crying! At least not for that reason!

What would you imagine would be the ideal first taste of Jonah Ray? Like if you had to procure a bite of Jonah Ray Comedy to make it the most palatable to a new comer. Any toppings?

A new coomer lol. Uh, I would slide that gorgeous human being with a soul and everything a copy of his AST-Records 7 Inch, which is dedicated to all of the fucking girls who ever shit on his heart... may they rest une peace!

The concept of Bob Odenkirk being "bit" by the Tim and Eric bug is so funny. He was also instrumental in grooming The Birthday Boys into prominence (in more ways than one). You could say he was the Lou Pearlman on young whiteboy comedy in the late aughts (in more ways than one).

I wanna get him to help me out by writing him a nice letter but I’m afraid now he’ll kick my freaking ass

It's Adam and Eve not Larry and Steve

LOL THATS FOR SURE

Not only did you know guys who looked like Jonah Ray, but one of our friends famously ID'd himself as Jonah Ray in an early viral video. Do you remember that and remember that man? You like him a lot. I can guarantee.

Don’t say private stuff like this on my mail bag, you dope. I do love that man, I love him a lot.

Link to the fuckable killer blog? Sound pretty good?

NO. This is more important than keeping the bit going, and I can tell this might hurt you. There is no blog where a guy ranks horror movies by how fuckable the killer is. I made it up. If you would like to start this as a blog yourself, as a spin-off (but you have to put in the description that you are a spin-off of this and link to me) then please go ahead. I would like to expand this universe.

[umichenginabroad]

Week 3: Pompeii, the Mafia, & Lemons

Hi everyone! While these three things seem to have nothing in common, they are all topics I enjoyed learning about this week in class and on tours.

I had my first field trip in my History of the Mafia class to Naples. We took the train and met our professor at the Napoli Garibaldi Square. There he told us about how in the past the mafia used this square to sell counterfeit items and the benefits from doing so. From there, we walked along a district in Naples that was dominated by the Camorra mafia clan in the past. We got to see some historical sites including the churches were some of the mafiosos (men in the mafia) would hide their smuggled goods such as cigarettes.

The next day, my friends and I participated in a gelato making class through Sant'Anna. It was at a family owned gelato showed called Gelateria David. Their staff walked us through the step by step process of making gelato and the differences between cream and sorbet gelato. We made a lemon sorbet gelato and it was delicious!

The next day we finally made the trip to see Pompeii! I was pretty excited to see Pompeii as it is famous for its ruins and rich history. I bought the entrance tickets online, but you can also buy them on site. Also for all my dual citizens out there, there is a discount for those with a European Union passport. To get to Pompeii we took the commuter train which stopped a short distance away from the ruins. While it is possible to get a guided tour, my friends and I decided to use the Rick Steves Audio Guide App that you can download on your phone. I would recommend this to anyone who is looking for a cheaper option that still gives a lot of information!

It was fascinating to see how well preserved some of the frescos were and to get a glimpse of what life was like in those ancient times. Also if you walk 10 minutes away from the center of the ruins, you can see the large amphitheater that once stood in Pompeii. It was so cool to see how large the building is and wonder how they were able to build it during those times.

And of course we had to take a picture repping UofM! GO BLUE!

As Sorrento is famous for its lemons, we took the opportunity during the weekend to go on a Lemon Tour in a villa called Villa Beatrice. This is a family owned lemon four located outside the city of Sorrento. It costs around 36 euro per person and included the tour, limoncello tastings, and some apertif snacks.

The villa is a bit far away from where San'Anna is located, but the staff offered to pick us up at a plaza in the city. Our tour guide was so nice and was very knowledgable about the process of making Limoncello and the history of Sorrento. We got to hear about what Sorrento was like in the past, as he grew up in a farm just a few blocks up the mountain. We even learned about the process of grafting the branch of lemon trees to the trunk of orange trees (the picture with a branch covered in plastic depicts this!).

Overall, it was a lovely experience and by far one of my favorite things that I have done since I have been here. We also met a Michigan Alumni who just graduated in our tour group!

Next weekend I will be going to Venice, so I can't wait to share with you my experiences! Ciao!

Josefia Frydenborg

Environmental Engineering

Engineering in Sorrento