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xenon-demon · 10 months

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also. tell me more about your Kas!Eddie please 🙏

ohhhhh Lui gravity is the AU that has just. grabbed me in its jaws and will not let go. I think about it CONSTANTLY and I don't think that will stop anytime soon. I've got a few asks about this one though so I'll START with talking about What's Going On In Hawkins circa the start of the fic. If you would like to know more about The Boy, Kas!Steve, then may I direct your attention to this post :D

So Eddie and Steve swap places right before the final fight, because Steve is injured at that point and Eddie isn't (and they figure staying at Eddie's trailer will be less dangerous that going to the Creel House). Everything else from that point proceeds as in canon; the bats get in, Steve dies, Max dies temporarily and the four gates connect and drive a massive rift through Hawkins.

From there, Hawkins basically descends into a semi-apocalyptic nightmare. The rift from the end of season 4 has caused major structural damage all over town, many buildings have been destroyed and lots of people have either evacuated or had to move into a local motel that's been converted into emergency housing for the people of Hawkins (that's where the Munsons are now staying). On top of that, the rift has basically destroyed the structural integrity between the Upside Down and our world; while the rift itself is not really a functional gate, there are a bunch of smaller gates randomly opening up around town now. More and more of them show up as time goes on. Some are small (think like the tree Nancy goes through in S1), some are much bigger (think bigger than Eddie's trailer roof gate), and most of them tend to fluctuate a bit in size/fade in and out of existence. This means that some creatures from the Upside Down are starting to bleed through these gates and end up in Hawkins looking for food.

The government, realizing everything went to shit the moment the rift opened up, rolls into Hawkins about 3-4 days after the "earthquake" saying they're here to "help with the relief efforts". (For those keeping score at home, yes this is after Team Russia & Team Cali have arrived back in Hawkins.) The official government cover story is along the lines of "hey, remember when HNL got shut down a few years back after that tragic chemical leak incident? Well, we've just discovered that a Rogue Individual (Brenner) was secretly dumping toxic chemicals and experimental materials into the local wilderness/burying them underground instead of disposing of them properly. This is the cause of the geological weirdness and mutated wildlife that some people are reporting. Everyone should leave Hawkins immediately if they can, and comply with any and all government orders if they can't". Not everyone believes this, of course, but the truth is so much more insane that most of town is at least willing to go along with it - and that's not counting the people who just up and leave because Hawkins is so super duper cursed at this point.

The main things the government is doing are:

regular patrols around the border of town and known gate hotspots, to catch and kill any UD creatures before they're spotted by civilians

nighttime curfew; you shouldn't be out after sundown unless you are going Directly from wherever you were during the day (i.e. your job) back to your home. you're not gonna get ARRESTED but the military will absolutely Escort You back to your house lmao

urging citizens to stay the fuck away from any weird sightings and report them to the armed forces as soon as possible, so the military can handle it

and yeah, they kind of are helping with the relief efforts in that they're making sure food and other important supplies are still getting into hawkins and making sure the recently-homeless have somewhere to stay, but they're doing the bare minimum really asfjknjvkdan

Essentially, as of the start of the fic (approx. a month after the rift opens up/the end of S4) the situation is this: Eleven and the Party know that in order to fix this, they have to defeat Vecna first and THEN close up any existing gates/the rift. (They also have a strong hunch that the Upside Down is Like That due to Vecna's influence.) The government officials in charge of the Hawkins occupation Do Not Believe That Is The Solution, and instead spend a lot of time wasting Eleven's time and energy by forcing her to close up gates as they appear. Between that and the fact the Party can't just storm into the Upside Down to get Vecna without a solid plan and probably armed back up, they're all feeling kind of hopeless about how to actually fix this. Especially since tensions are rising in Hawkins by the day, and the gate/monster sightings are only getting more and more frequent...

Send me an ask about my WIPs!

#charlie writes things #steddie #steddie au #gravity (kas!steve au)#vampire steve harrington #also idk if the government stuff is good/realistic at all #because while i think col sullivan would be forced to admit at this point that the upside down Is a thing and this isn't all just eleven #idk how willing he'd be to just work with her and the party #i'm leaning towards 'sullivan has been forced to play nice with owens under threat of punishment due to his mismanagement of the situation'#'and he is now leading the occupation of hawkins under guidance from owens. but he is NOT happy about it'#'and while owens will work with the party/eleven sullivan is completely disregarding their (correct) thoughts on how to fix this'#sullivan's like 'if eleven isn't responsible for this then she should close these gates/the rift and fix this for us'#and eleven is like 'you're treating the symptoms and not the cause in order to truly fix this we must kill vecna'#and sullivan's like 'vecna schmecna i still think this is your fault but i believe you're playing nice atm and also if i kill you now #i'll be dishonorably discharged for disobeying orders from my higher ups'#idk if anyone has thoughts about this feel free to let me know #i'm very open to ideas/soundboarding for how to make this feel realistic #because i want the 'borderline post-apocalyptic/a lot more people Know now but hawkins as a whole is at least pretending to be normal' vibe #the secret is not Out In The Open but it's definitely much less hidden than it used to be.

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icantrecallaskysoclear · 1 year

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Me, every single time Raoul proposes to Christine:

💞

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maddy-ferguson · 1 year

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This might be an odd complaint but I really don’t like how people act like Byler endgame would just excuse every other shitty thing that’s been done to everyone but conveniently attractive presumably straight white men in this show writing-wise. I’d be more than happy to have Byler be endgame and I expect it, but the amount of racism that’s been brushed off is ridiculous in and outside of the show. The weird St*ncy moments this season, the fact that she doesn’t get a storyline related to her trauma. Even season three was incredibly white of them. Joyce not getting hardly any scenes with Jonathan and Will these recent seasons. All of it and more—it won’t suddenly go away and make everyone on that writing team geniuses. And this isn’t to sound ungrateful or anything, but it really is disappointing sometimes. They exceed tremendously at some points such as the Upside Down lore but as for other aspects…

not an odd complaint at all! the only thing byler endgame makes okay is the fact that they didn't use will's feelings to fix a straight couple. there's so many other things they got wrong, and a lot of it has to do with the fact that the people writing the show are white men. and white women. white people

NOTHING they do could ever make what they did to lucas right. having their one black character go against the little white girl in season 1 which resulted in people being racist to caleb irl, having billy literally get physical with lucas and say he's gonna kill him and then saying in an interview that they "think" that billy was racist like they didn't write it themselves, the fact that it's literally never brought up again...lol. i know stranger things isn't a "this thing that happened was wrong. let's talk about it and try to make it better :)" type of show but still. it's crazy. also this regarding erica in season four

and you don't even have to dig that deep to find things that byler endgame won't fix: like you said, stncy being pushed on us and on nancy again in season 4? 98% sure it won't be endgame but like. why did you have to put us through that. WHY. and yeah lol, remember when they brought nancy back to that pool at the end of volume 1 like they remembered she was traumatized by the death of her best friend and then...nothing happened? idk, it's just so weird

also, the byers being sidelined? for will i guess you can rationalize it and come up with great and convincing meta reasons as to why his character was sidelined in seasons 3 and 4 (which, yeah, fascinating, i will still hate it ten years from now, no matter how important to season 5 will is), but what about jonathan? what about joyce? how does one justify the fact that winona went from being the reason 75% of people older than 15 started watching the show to having less screentime than fucking jason in season 4? it is annoying when people act like byler endgame will make everything right and will make stranger things a perfect show because it really won't

#also. s5 probably won't be as will-centric as most bylers/will stans are imagining #realistically😭#i'm sure it will be but yk #it's not like this is a season of skam where everything is about one character yk this is stranger things #is joyce having less screentime than jason true idk i read that on the news with no source website and i'm repeating it.#i know writers saying they 'think' a character felt this way is like a thing they do sometimes but it annoys the fuck out of me in #this situation here #it's like whoopsie yeah he's a little racist. maybe! who knows though ^^ not me the person who invented him #can i also just say steve in general #this won't help me beat the steve hater allegations and i like him i promise but the fact that the most popular character in their the #freaks are great and we are rooting for them and for the underdog at all times show is mr normal straight guy is so #and it's their own fault (obviously)#there's a lot of other things i wanted to say like i know what they're saying with the show isn't bad right it's like i just said #but the execution is so questionable and acting like it isn't simply because the gay kid isn't gonna end up heartbroken alone or dead #is kind of offensive. even though people mean well #ask

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bylertruther · 2 years

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mike would bite y'all for comparing him to steve 💔 he will NEVER be michael wheeler ✋

#pls..... the rain fight line was out of pocket yes but DID HE LIE?#he wasn't saying it in a bad way #he was just saying 'DAMN bro lay off me' in a knee-jerk way bc #1) it's LITERALLY not his fault tht will doesn't like girls and as such cannot get a girlfriend like them and #2) will has been bottling this all up and just exploded on him so it's not like he could've prepared a way to word that better beforehand #and 3) he says 'it's not MY fault' because will is pinning the breakdown of the party on HIM as if he can control other people and #4) mike has NEVER been homophobic he literally pushed troy down for what he said and clearly does not ever like any of the homophobic #things anyone has EVER said about will and he makes him feel like he's not a mistake and like he has a place in this world and like he's #/BETTER/ for being different so literally how on fucking earth are you going to say he's being homophobic for being blunt ONE TIME #meanwhile steve was a punk ass bitch for what? clout?! cos he felt emasculated? bc he was being a follower?#it was mean of mike to point it out bc they were talking abt friendship not That specifically but it feels a little um .#odd to act like he's calling him a literal slur and bringing up sexuality in a cruel way like how steve did to jonathan.#sorry it's literally a gif set but can we PLEASE not act like mike called will a fucking slur and is homophobic like are you kidding me.#(tiffany pollard voice) STEVE?!?! mike sweetie i'm SO sorry tht someone would say tht to u #and steve clearly did love nancy btw. they're just not compatible and he doesn't see that bc he doesn't see the entirety of who she is now.#srry tht rain fight is NOTHING like the steve n jonathan fight sorry but it isn't. it isn't!!!!!!!!!! put some respect on mike's name!!!!!!#ok im fine. im gonna eat my cheerios now bye waving emoji etc

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strangersteddierthings · 7 months

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Good People

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.

Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.

He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.

Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.

Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.

"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.

"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.

A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."

"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."

"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.

"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"

"Well, because he's your family."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."

"That's different!"

"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.

"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."

"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"

"Yes!"

"But why?" Eddie presses.

"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"

"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."

"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."

"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."

Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.

"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."

"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."

"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."

Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.

"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."

"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"

"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.

Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.

He's got some thinking to do.

#steddie #my fic #wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne pov #wayne doesnt like steve and steve cannot accept that #not doing a readmore because its very short.

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transmascsteveharrington · 6 months

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If Steve was someone to believe in conspiracy theories he might think that there is a mistletoe complot happening. Because mistletoes keep suddenly popping up everywhere, especially in places Steve could swear three seconds ago hadn't been a mistletoe. Places that always include Eddie.

"Seriously, another one?" Eddie groans just as much a helpless victim in the mistletoe coup that might or might not be happening as Steve. "Do these sprout out of your hair?"

"Who says they aren't sprouting out of your hair dude," Steve shoots back half annoyed half amused.

"Yeah, yeah fine, c'mon let's get it over with," Eddie sighs and turns his cheek. "Lay one on me, Harrington."

Steve rolls his eyes but obeys and presses his lips against Eddie's cheek. His skin is cold, as always and his stubble is a funny sensation. The thing is if it was up to them they would just shrug it off and walk away, no peck on the cheek needed. But somehow – and the number one reason why Steve thinks this might be a conspiracy – they always end up under a mistletoe when the kids or older teens are around insisting that they kiss because otherwise, that means bad luck.

"Do you really think we can afford any more bad luck," Dustin had squeaked the first time they had ended up under a mistletoe and had tried to just walk away. So for almost three weeks Eddie and Steve have been kissing each other's cheeks constantly. Of course, always ensure first that the other one is okay with the kiss. Steve's always thought that the tradition of /having/ to kiss is absolutely stupid.

"Maybe they'll stop sprouting if you properly kissed," Robin suggests while stirring up icing for the cookies the party has been baking in the Wheeler's kitchen. Steve has to suppress the urge to flip her off.

"Guess we'll have to put that theory to the test next time, don't we big boy?" Eddie laughs and Steve can feel himself blush. He blames it on the heat from the oven.

The next time comes three days later at the Hopper-Byers' house and Steve turns his head to Jonathan who looks at them expectantly and asks, "Aren't you Jewish?"

"Yeah, but mistletoes are a Roman tradition," he shrugs and stubs out his joint. He and Eddie have been smoking outside and Steve was sent outside to get them for dinner just as Eddie was being sent inside to ask if they still needed help.

"Roman, really?" Steve frowns.

"The ancient Greek called mistletoes oak-sperm," Eddie grins his hands already grabbing Steve's shirt and pulling him closer.

"Ugh, gross dude," Steve complains but still leans in and closes the distance between them, this time an innocent peck on the lips. When they let go Steve thinks that for a second he might have spotted disappointment in Jonathan's eyes.

He finds out later in the evening why. He and Eddie have just finished washing up like they both offered, Steve washing, Eddie drying and are about to return to the Hopper-Byers' living room when they hear Dustin whisper-shout, "It's like they don't even want to kiss."

"I told you this idea was stupid," Max murmurs. "They're not gonna admit to being into each other like this."

"I think we should just keep trying," Robin, the traitor adds, and Steve can hear the amusement in her voice.

"Wow, looks like we have been party entertainment," Eddie whispers next to Steve.

"Yeah, I can't believe it...actually, I can," Steve says before he gets an idea. "Wanna get back at them by traumatizing them a little?"

"I like the way you think, Harrington."

So next time they get caught under a mistletoe they don't go in for a chaste kiss. Instead, they kiss like men starving, with tongues, teeth, wandering hands, and badly muffled moans. Steve isn't quite sure it still counts as PG-13 but it's the shitheads' own fault. They are slightly out of breath when they part. It's worth it though the kids look like they walked in on their parents kissing. Steve had to suppress a laugh.

"Hope that might finally ward them off," Steve says, hoping his knees aren't shaking too obviously. "This was fun, but I have a date to wine and dine, so see you little shitheads tomorrow."

"Seriously, you have a date?" Dustin gawks. "After...after...after..."

"After what, Henderson?" Steve grins, knowing Dustin can't say anything without giving their whole plot away.

"After this long day?" Dustin tries to save himself.

"That's why I'm hoping my date is gonna stay over," Steve says, earning another groan from everyone before he leaves.

A few hours later once the wining and dining has happened and Steve and his date have cuddled up on the couch his date turns their head and gently nuzzles into the crook of Steve's neck.

"You know they're gonna think they are the reason we got together," Eddie says and presses soft kisses down Steve's throat.

"We got together literally a month before the mistletoes happened," he says and pulls Eddie closer.

"I know," Eddie hums, "but you know how cocky Henderson is. He won't care."

"I guess," Steve mumbles as Eddie plants another kiss on his cheek. "It's kinda nice though. That they did this, that they don't mind."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees softly. "But they are gonna regret it once we tell them and start kissing without any mistletoes present."

Steve laughs before he gently cups Eddie's face.

"We should practice how to traumatize them more then," he grins.

"Yeah, we should," Eddie says before he closes the distance and once more kisses Steve so heated it makes the fire in front of them feel cold.

#steddie #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #my writing

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corrodedbisexual · 7 days

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@waning-croissant well... I had to.

"Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero," Eddie talks as he keeps walking, a step ahead of Steve. "I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week."

Eddie's not even sure what he's saying anymore, he just knows that if he doesn't keep talking over the nightmarish ambience of this hellscape, he might actually go insane. Hearing his own voice, he can at least pretend like he's just narrating a game, and the rest is his overactive imagination. Not that he actually believes that, of course, it's just... irrationally comforting.

"Give yourself a break, man."

Steve reaches for him, but Eddie's body reacts on autopilot to an unexpected touch, practically slapping the boy's arm away. He's on a roll here, words still spilling right over the all-too-late pang of regret in his chest. It would have been nice to experience, that pat on the chest or squeeze on the shoulder, whatever Steve was going for, if it weren't for Eddie's perpetual skittishness.

"See? The only reason—"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"—I came in here was 'cause—"

"Eddie!"

Eddie's head snaps to Steve as he cuts off the rest of his semi-planned speech, which was suddenly inspired by the sight of Nancy Wheeler ahead of them. If he was the cowardly bard in the story, the least he could be useful for is cheer on the real hero of it. Give the courageous bat-biting paladin the motivation to keep fighting.

"Huh?"

"Do you ever stop running your mouth and listen?" Steve's brows are furrowed, but his tone isn't mean, and there's an amused smile playing on his lips. "You're almost worse than Dustin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie opens his mouth, lets his jaw hang for a second, and closes it again with a click of the teeth, as he processes the words he would have perceived as an insult, had he not been piecing together what the kid meant to Steve for the past several days. It was a bit of a revelation that their relationship ran far deeper than just some giant one-sided platonic crush on Dustin's part, like Eddie had mistakenly assumed throughout most of this year.

Steve takes a small step closer, the first one to invade Eddie's personal space for once, after Eddie's been doing it for the better part of their walk together. Unconsciously, like his body just decided that being tucked into Steve meant safety from the bloodthirsty bats, and the creepy vines, and that Vecna guy they could run into any minute.

"We all ran, all four of us. Just now, when we saw that giant swarm of bats in the distance, remember?" Steve speaks softly, waving his arm vaguely in the direction behind them. "Because sometimes, running and surviving is the only thing you can do."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He just focuses on looking at the boy's eyes, like a normal person, and trying not stare at his lips moving. But then, when he pauses, Steve's eyes flicker down, and... huh. Huh. Wait, what?

"Of course you've been running. You couldn't have fought Vecna when he took Chrissy. Or Carver's crazy mob, or the entire police force of Hawkins," Steve keeps talking intently, looking into Eddie's eyes again like his gaze never wavered south. "Any more than we could fight that whole swarm. Because we'd definitely be dead now if we tried, no matter how metal you think I am," he adds with a tiny smug smile that's entirely Eddie's fault. "So there's a difference between being a coward, and acting stupid and reckless."

Steve pats his shoulder twice, then turns and keeps walking, and Eddie moves to follow him like on a tether, before his flustered brain even catches up.

"H-hey, I never said you were metal! I said what you did with that bat was metal," he grumbles, thankful for the darkness concealing his undoubtedly flushed face.

"I beg to differ," Steve turns around to tease, grinning, and pointedly tugs on his own collar. "You're the resident metalhead, and I'm wearing your vest, that does make me at least a little bit metal."

Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Harrington. Eddie's not sure what possessed him to throw that thing at the boy. At the time, he only thought of how he wouldn't survive the whole ordeal of Steve's hairy tits on display for much longer, but him in Eddie's clothes? Even worse.

"Fine," Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, catching up to Steve in three quick strides. "Only a little bit though." He sneaks a glance at the boy; Steve's not looking back, once again on guard, surveying their surroundings with his flashlight, but the pleased smile makes its way to his face regardless.

"Doesn't matter why you jumped after us, Munson, you're here now. And don't try to act all modest when you've just saved a guy's ass. Which, by the way..." Steve turns his head to Eddie again. "Nice job with that oar. Too bad you hate jocks, you'd have made a fine hitter on the school baseball team."

Eddie gasps and grips his own chest in mock offense, even as warmth spreads up his neck and pools in the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden beneath his hair.

"How dare you, with these vile insinuations."

"I'm just saying," Steve shakes his head, laughing. "You're pretty... bat-ass, too, Eddie." He glances over again with a shit-eating grin. "Get it? Bat-ass?"

"Oh no, Steve Harrington is actually a dork with terrible puns," Eddie mumbles to himself and sighs, rolling his eyes up to the dark sky.

"Shut the fuck up, my puns are amazing." Steve elbows him in the ribs and chuckles. "You know what, I'm starting to understand why Henderson was obsessed with getting us to hang out."

What is that supposed to mean?

"He... he was?" Eddie gapes.

Another earthquake saves him from the mortifying ordeal of re-assessing the whole Munson doctrine, for the hundredth time this week. And as they hurry along to catch up with the girls, and Steve's hand grips his bicep whenever he falls behind, Eddie wonders if maybe he should just set fire to the doctrine and let it turn to ash.

#steddie #steddie fic #misha-bawlins fanfic

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libraryofgage · 6 months

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Addams Family B-Side (1)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell (on the way!)

This is part of a series of unrelated works entitled "Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually" and I think that title is fairly self-explanatory. If there are any other couples you think would be good parents for our Stevie boy, let me know and I'll take them into consideration!

Anyway, the B-Side thing is because this is like taking my Addams Family Steddie au and just flipping the cassette tape hfjsdk

This time, it's Steve that's the Addams and Eddie that's normal!

Anyway, blame @whatthemeepever for this one specifically cuz it's gonna spiral into a wild ride actually, so let's all pray for Eddie in advance

If you'd like a tag for any future parts, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

-------

The moment Steve is born, his father sticks a light bulb in his mouth. When it glows, he jumps with joy and throws Steve into the air. The moment Steve's mother realizes what's happening, she slaps his father upside the head, throws the light bulb at him, and threatens to blow him up again if he sticks anymore into Steve's mouth before he starts teething.

She follows through on the promise exactly two weeks later, and Steve's parents (one smug and the other notably singed but delighted) rebuild their house next door to his father's brother.

Steve's mother chooses his first and last name (Harrington, a reference to some long-lost family friend or other), and his father is reluctantly given the freedom to choose his middle name. In the end, he is dubbed Steve Faustus Harrington, a name his mother is so surprised to find acceptable that she kisses his father as a reward.

And so begins Steve's life.

------

"I can't believe you got expelled," Steve's mother seethes, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn white. "Again!"

Steve crosses his arms, sinking lower in his seat as he glares out the window. "It's not my fault they were shitty friends. They got what they deserved."

He hears his mother laugh, the sound strained and indignant and very quickly followed by his father turning to look at Steve from the passenger seat. His sunken eyes are filled with suppressed delight as he asks, "What did they do this time?"

A few seconds pass before Steve sighs. "They said they couldn't go out later because they had to study for finals. I mean, what kind of bullshit is that? Finals are three weeks away, and they can't spare one weekend for the funeral museum?" he says, scoffing as he looks at his father, grins, and adds, "So, I brought the funeral museum to them, coffins and cremations and all."

His father's eyes light up, sheer joy and pride dancing in them. And for the very first time in Steve's life, his mother pulls over to the side of the road and parks the car.

"Pumpkin?" his father asks.

"Fester," she says, her voice low and somewhere in the range of upset, "do you remember when I tried to kill your entire family?"

"Of course. It was a splendid attempt."

She nods and looks at him with a tiny, somewhat pained smile. Then she turns and sets her gaze on Steve. "Darling, what kind of grades do your friends have?" she asks. "Because if you're anything like me, and I know you are, you tend to befriend people who are significantly dumber than you."

Steve blinks, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, most of them were about to fail," he admits.

"Then, isn't it possible they really were studying for finals? Especially if they were close to failing at a school where passing is a requirement of attendance? Perhaps you could have suggested going to the...funeral museum after finals?"

A few seconds pass as Steve considers her words, a crushing sense of realization and guilt dropping on his shoulders and traveling to the pit of his stomach. It makes him feel nauseous, and he stares down at his lap. "I fucked up," he finally says, voice quiet and apologetic.

"Of course not!" Fester says, reaching out and ruffling Steve's hair despite the affronted noise from Debbie, "Your plan was beautifully conceived and masterfully executed. Perhaps you should just talk a little more before pulling out the urns next time."

"Incredibly, your father is right," Debbie says, looking pleasantly surprised before turning her gaze to Steve. She sighs and holds out a hand, squeezing Steve's when he takes it. "Don't get so blinded by a beautiful pair of shoes that you completely miss the sale two aisles over, Steve. At the very least, do a little more research before resorting to torture and murder. Personally, I'm very tired of calling the family's lawyer."

Steve snorts at the utter lie. Debbie loves calling the family's lawyer. She does so regularly just to double-check the state of Fester's stocks and bonds and deeds and general worth. "Okay," he says, nodding once, "I'll remember for the next school."

"You know," Fester says, looking at Debbie hopefully, "Pubert is a senior this year. Maybe Steve could go to high school with him."

Debbie hesitates, frowning slightly before saying, "Yes, but it's...public school."

"The best Gomez and Morticia could find! It was highly recommended by Margaret, and Pubert can make sure Steve adjusts and makes friends."

Steve can see the moment his mother agrees. She sighs, lets go of his hand, and fixes her already perfect bob. "Well, I suppose," she says before looking at Steve once more. "And you, Steve? Would you like to try...public school for your junior year?"

"Sure, might be fun," Steve says, thinking about all the movies he's seen that display public high schools as a zoo and the worst place on Earth. It sounds great, and if the place is still standing while Pubert attends, it must be somewhat entertaining.

------

"You've got everything you'll need?"

Steve looks up from lacing his shoes and smiles at his mother, earning a nervous grin in return. Her blonde hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, and Steve feels warm and fuzzy (like a mold growing over his heart) at knowing she's so worried as to appear less-than-perfect in front of him.

"Yes, I've got everything," he says, gesturing to the backpack on the stairs next to him. In addition to notebooks and his pencil case, Steve has also packed a travel mace, a miniature bomb (alarm clock detonator stored separately, of course), a tiny bottle of tequila, and his lucky lightbulb (just in case).

His mother nods once, takes a deep breath, and then turns her head toward the kitchen to shout, "FESTER!"

Something crashes, a cat (they don't have a cat) yowls, and Steve's father slides into the doorway. "Yes, Pumpkin?" he asks, eyes bright and happy and utterly stuck on Debbie.

"Is Steve's lunch ready? You made something normal, right?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.

Fester glances at Steve, a brief look shared between them that's both sympathetic and endeared toward Debbie. "Of course," Fester says, disappearing for two seconds before striding over to the stairs with a pink lunch box decorated with black skulls (Steve chose the color, Fester chose the pattern, and Debbie gave them her stamp of approval). "A turkey sandwich, fruit, cookies, and juice."

"Fruit?" Debbie asks, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Apple slices!"

After a few seconds, Debbie nods, and Fester gives the lunch box to Steve, shifting some so Debbie doesn't see the conspiratorial wink that tells him the juice is definitely poisoned. Steve grins and shoves the lunch box into his bag. He finishes lacing his shoes and stands, holding his arms out so his mother can inspect him.

"You've done a wonderful job pairing your shirt and shoes," Debbie says, walking around Steve with an air of pride and approval. She rubs the sleeve of his pastel yellow sweater between her thumb and forefinger, nodding once. "The plum pants are a bold choice, but it pays off. And, as always, your hair is flawless, dear."

Steve grins, letting his arms fall to his side. "I tried that new mousse you gave me," he says, fingers twitching as he fights the urge to run them through his hair. "It works great."

His mother smiles even wider and kisses his cheek, pulling out a handkerchief and carefully wiping away the lipstick residue she leaves behind. "I knew it would," she says, inspecting Steve's face once more before nodding with approval.

"Pumpkin, it's time for Steve to go. Pubert is waiting."

Debbie huffs softly and gives Steve one last once over before nodding and hurrying him toward the door. "Have a good day at school, try not to blow anything up, and call me if Pubert tries to cut off your head with a rusty knife again," she says.

"What if it's a clean knife?"

"Well, that's fine. Grandmama will just sew it back on."

Steve grins and waves to both of his parents before hurrying toward the sidewalk where Pubert is waiting. His hair is parted down the middle and gelled down, his pencil-thin mustache is immaculate as ever, and he's wearing a three-piece suit. When Steve is closer, he pulls out two cigars and offers one.

"This isn't an exploding cigar again, right? I'm wearing a new shirt," Steve says, taking it and looking it over.

"Nah, that joke only works once," Pubert says, dragging a match against his palm to light it. He holds it to his cigar first, puffs a few times, and then does the same for Steve. "How long till you get expelled again, you think?"

Steve shrugs as he takes a puff from the cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment before skillfully blowing it out in perfect circles as they walk. "I haven't been to a public school before," he says, tapping the cigar over the sidewalk, "so, hopefully, at least a year."

"Public school is fun," Pubert says, getting a wicked grin as he looks at Steve. "You can get away with a lot."

"And the other kids?"

"Well, they've certainly got a lot to learn. I mean, most of them can't even handle a little cyanide."

Steve scrunches his nose and takes another puff of his cigar. After a few seconds he asks, "Will we have any classes together?"

"You're a year below me, so maybe an elective or two. What did you sign up for?"

"I signed up for, uh, shop class, forensic science, and Gothic literature."

"We'll have Gothic lit together," Pubert says, flashing a smile before asking, "And you know what shop class is, right?"

Steve blinks, suddenly a little hesitant. "Is it not, like, something about shopping?"

"No. It's building things. With wood, usually."

"Oh! So, I can build anything?"

"I guess. I haven't taken it."

"Well, I'll find out. Maybe I can build Dad a catapult or guillotine or something."

As they get closer to the school, more students fill the sidewalks, but Steve notices that most of them seem to give him and Pubert a wide berth. They also stare, looking at Steve like he's some kind of puzzle to be solved, with more than a few flashing sympathetic smiles like he's trapped and can't get away. "You're popular," Steve notes, taking one last puff of his cigar before dropping it into a trash can.

"I would fucking hope so," Pubert says, finishing off his cigar and tossing it into the next trash can they pass. "I didn't flood the place with roaches and vermin to not be known."

Steve grins, listening as Pubert regales him with the tale only to cut it short when they get inside the school and pass the front office. "I need to get my schedule, but Mom said she made sure we'd have lunch together," Steve says.

Pubert waves him off. "Yeah, I'll meet you in the cafeteria. Have fun, cousin," he replies, mockingly saluting him before heading off down the main hall.

-----

Steve's first class of the day was AP Calculus, followed by AP Physics, Wood Shop, and AP U.S. History. When it's finally time for lunch, he surveys the cafeteria for a few seconds before finding a table in a dark corner that everyone seems to avoid. By the time he gets there, Pubert has sat down with a tray from the lunch line.

Steve sets his backpack on the table, sits down, and says, "For a place that's so lifeless, it's not even fun."

"Yeah, it's like that," Pubert agrees, poking some unidentifiable mush on his tray with a spork before spooning some into his mouth.

It's with a somewhat jealous expression that Steve pulls out his lunch box and removes a thermos of poisoned juice. "Is it bad?" he asks, nodding to the tray.

"Utterly repulsive."

Steve sighs and takes a sip from the thermos before pulling out everything else in his lunch box. "They made me wear safety goggles in shop. Safety goggles! It's like they don't know how fun splinters in the eyes are. And everyone is soooo scared of the saws, it's ridiculous," he complains, taking an angry bite of his sandwich.

"What about your other classes?"

"Physics would be better with more practical examples. I mean, who cares about apples when we could learn if a body falls faster than a cannonball?"

"From experience, no," Pubert says, "Anyway, you gonna join any clubs?"

"Maybe the swim team? If I'm lucky, I'll drown," Steve says, perking up a little at the thought.

"Best of luck with that," Pubert replies, stealing Steve's thermos to take a sip of his juice. When he places it back, he offers Steve a sporkful of the mush.

Steve lights up and happily tries it, wondering how something can be so perfectly undercooked and overcooked at the same time. "Impressive," he says, passing the spork back. "Is that freezer burn?"

Before Pubert can answer, a bang from the other side of the cafeteria cuts off all other sounds. Steve glances over to see a boy in heavy combat boots climbing onto his table with a mischievous grin. He's wearing a shirt with a devil head on it and "Hellfire Club" emblazoned above and a vest with spikes, pins, and patches. His hair is just below his shoulders and a little curly, and Steve can see from here the wild glint in his eyes as he stomps down the table while talking.

"I'm tired of the double standards of this lame school. If you're into science or band or some other 'uncool' interest, the administration couldn't give two shits! Oh, the choir room needs new risers so the current ones don't break any necks? Well, that's too bad, we've got to give the football team new monogrammed towels for the locker room!" the guy says, grinning when a group of kids to the side shouts their agreement. "And never mind that our Robotics team has won the school three trophies when the basketball team so valiantly scraped into third place last year for being kinda good at throwing balls into laundry baskets."

"Prick!"

Steve glances at the guy who shouted, taking in his letterman jacket before quickly dismissing him. He looks back in time to see the boy on the table sticking out his tongue and holding his hands to his temples to make horns. There's an even wilder look in his eyes now, a sheer glee at causing a scene and getting under someone's skin.

Steve doesn't realize he's smiling until the boy scoffs, shouts one more line about the school's unfair preference for "mediocre jocks," and hops off the table. He looks over at Pubert and asks, "Who was that?"

Pubert glances at Steve, studying him for a moment before swallowing another mouthful of mush and saying, "Eddie Munson. He does that once a week, usually."

"Eddie Munson," Steve murmurs, glancing over at Eddie's table again and smiling a little wider.

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family b-side #that'll be the tag for this one lol #addams! steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #debbie jellinsky #fester addams #pubert addams #steve deserves good parents actually

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maxislvt · 8 months

Text

Succubus Season

pairing(s): succubus! wanda maximoff x reader, brief natasha romanoff x reader

summary: Just when your life starts to come together, life throws another curve ball at you. Except this time it isn't a bully or a shitty English teacher. This curve ball is seven feet tall with horns and a lot of pent-up sexual energy.

warnings: jealousy, possessive thoughts/behavior, AMAB!Reader, dom!Wanda, sub!Reader, anal sex, anal fingering, prostate milking, overstimulation, cum eating, size kink (she's 7 feet tall)

a/n: Idk this is a tad self indulgent but it's Fine because it's sexy

Event Masterlist

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Adulthood came with many struggles. You made it through high school, your poor budgeting habits, and you're currently pushing your way through medical school. It wasn't easy, but your determination and pride got you through it. Now you were one step further into adulthood by owning a house. No more roommates or weird landlords. Just your own space with no one else in it.

However, you hit an unexpected bump in the road.

Moving in seemed harder than doing all the paperwork. At first, you blamed it on how far you were moving. Some of your friends were kind enough to drive anywhere from 2 to 15 hours to help you move. It was possible they were tired and didn't consider how strenuous moving was. Then things got a little bit odd. You couldn't leave a room unattended for more than half an hour without someone getting some sort of freak injury. Luckily it was nothing worse than little cuts or bruises.

Oddly, fixing up the garage proved to be the hardest part. Bucky got sent to the hospital over a spider bite. Steve's asthma suddenly kicked up — though part of that was his fault considering everyone told him it'd be a bad idea to clean a dusty room without an inhaler. A lot of them had been overcome with mysterious illnesses and your team was getting smaller and smaller.

Eventually, it was down to just you and Tony.

All that was left to do was fix your janky garage door and the god-awful cabinets. It should've been a simple job. Replacing a few doors and fixing up some gears. Unfortunately, it turned out to be nearly impossible.

"God, this stupid fucking drill." You grumbled while trying to loosen the screws holding the cabinet door together. Tool malfunctions were another thing hindering your progress. One toolbox to fix the whole house wasn't entirely effective, but the finicky handles and rather disagreeable drill bits weren't making it any better. "Son of a bitch, these cabinet doors are hideous anyways!" After another failed attempt at removing the screw, you slam the tool on the countertop with a frustrated grunt. You slammed it a bit too hard against the counter because the sound shook the whole garage.

The old gears in your garage door creaked and shook before suddenly turning to drop the door.

"Tony, look out!" You shouted before running over to catch the door. The metal door slammed down hard on your shoulder blades. "Ah, shit!" You hissed out. It took all your strength to push the door back up. "Fuck, are you okay?" You asked Tony while rubbing your bruising shoulder blades.

Tony stared up at the garage door before getting up. He anxiously cleared his throat. "Well, if that doesn't open my eyes to my old age, I don't know what will." His shaky hands smooth out his shirt before grabbing his tools. "Yeah kid, I think I'm gonna call it a day after that." An unusually shaky sigh fell from his lips as he hugged you.

You looked up at the garage door. It needed to be fixed, but nothing physical was worth the life of a friend. "Um..yeah you do that. I'll just fix it my-"

"Don't do that," Tony interrupted, knowing your history with home repair.

A grimace overtook your features, but you knew Tony was right. "Okay, I won't fix it myself. I'll try and find some company to do it." You patted Tony on the back. He wasn’t the most tan friend you had, but you'd never seen him so pale before. "We should get you a drink before letting you head home."

With that, you were down to just yourself.

Your shoulders were in too much pain for you to keep working so you called it a day. Eight o'clock was a bit early for you, but you were much too shaky to do anything else. After a quick shower and some pain cream on your shoulder blades, you called it a day. Pain and warm water turned out to be the perfect combination for sleep.

"Release me…"

You shot up and immediately looked around the room. No one else was in your room. You weren't sure if it was real, but there were goosebumps on your skin and the hairs on your neck wouldn't lay down. As scary as it was, you decided you must've left the TV on up front and ignored it.

The next morning you're a bit jarred but ready to spend the weekend cleaning.

You looked around the garage to see what you had left to do. The garage door was off-limits and you were beyond frustrated with the cabinets in there. Just when you thought it'd be a simple work day, you noticed a hatch on the roof. Odd, you don't remember there being an attic on the room list when you bought the house.

You shrugged and jumped up to bring down the step ladder. The creaking underneath your feet meant it was time for the wood to be replaced, but you decided to prioritize exploration. Which turned out not to be the best idea.

"What the fuck!?" The words slipped out before you could even think. You looked around the attic. Chalk lines drawn out to make a magical symbol that you weren't even going to pretend you understood. There were more symbols carved into the wall. In the middle of it all, there was a small table. You weren't crazy enough to step towards it but you could see a jar filled with some mysterious liquid surrounded by other magical trinkets you didn't want to touch. "...Well, I guess that's what I get for buying a three-bedroom house for less than 100,000," You whispered as you climbed down the ladder.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Now that you were terrified of your garage, you decided to focus on the less haunted part of your house.

It was a pain in the ass to move furniture and boxes by yourself, but better than a bunch of mysterious dead friends. After about a month or so, you were finally satisfied with the state of your house. The once barren walls were now filled with photographs and pairings. Long gone was the feeling of emptiness. It was your space now.

"Let me out, detka, please."

Oh, and the space of whatever freaky demon that was occupying that jar in your attic. Ignoring it was becoming harder. What started as the occasional whisper in your sleep turned into uncomfortably realistic wet dreams and a lot of ruined underwear. Now you could feel it hovering over you.

Tonight was the worst of it. Sensual kisses along the column of your neck pulled you in and out of sleep. Its hands were abnormally adventurous too. A less sleep-deprived version of yourself would've questioned the kisses on your neck, but your lack of sleep had left you a tiny bit delusional. One particular rough kiss finally woke you up properly.

The pain made you jolt up. "Fuck, you're having fun with this." You whisper despite the fact you're not sure it was listening. Your sleep shorts are stained with precum and you're painfully erect. A heavy sigh fell from your lips. "God, I hope you don't turn out to be some evil murder demon." The walk to your garage felt incredibly long. Each step added to the knot in your stomach. It was a miracle you didn't vomit by the time you stood underneath the hatch.

Your body moved as if it weren't your own. Awkward and clunky, but desperate to reach a goal you weren't too keen on. Once the ladder dropped back down your fate was sealed. You climbed up into the attic and stumbled towards the table.

For a moment just looked at the jar. Then you started laughing. "God, I am losing my mind. What is this stuff anyways, some disgusting old jam?" You scuffed with unwarranted confidence as you opened the jar.

It was not jam. Nor was it jelly or some other kind of preserve.

It was a seven-foot-tall demon. She had tinted red skin and two sets of horns sticking out of her head. You could see serrated teeth and an uncomfortably long tongue behind plum lips. You couldn't see them since they were above your head and you weren't going to risk looking away from it, but you could tell that it had claws.

The only thing keeping you from screaming your head off was not wanting to deal with a noise complaint in the morning.

"So um, can you put in on rent or are you just gonna bum out in my attic?"

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Wanda lived on Earth for thousands of years and never had she met a human more determined than you were. At first, she blamed your disinterest on her demonic form, but not even her human form could take your eyes off whatever project had taken up your time. Your focus was admirable, but Wanda was starting to get hungry.

So she decided to be more upfront about her needs.

Today, the only thing between her and a proper meal was a book. One you'd been reading for nearly an hour, but it was easier to take your attention away from that than it was from work.

Wanda laid down on your stomach and looked up at you with the softest, most desperate eyes she could muster. "I know this might come off as too much, but I'm really hungry...I just need a little something to get me through the day." Her eyes carefully watched your facial expression. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips turned down.

"Oh, you must be starving."

Wanda was expecting a more sympathetic tone, but you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You quickly marked your page in the book and laid it down on the coffee table. "Wait right here, I'll make you something good." Part of you felt like one of those evil landlords on Reddit. You were making her pay rent but she didn't feel comfortable eating. "I have some snacks in the cabinets if you're really hungry. Help yourself to whatever."

Her fingers twitch. It's not what she wanted, but she found herself tempted. "It's fine, I can wait," She whispered. Succubi shouldn't get nervous. Wanda's hands reached out and held your waist. The benefit of being a succubus is that Wanda knows you won't deny her. Her fingers slipped underneath your shirt just to feel the softness of your skin. "What are you cooking?"

The question confused Wanda. She'd never cared about a human beyond a desire to feed off of them, but you were different. She was desperate to know more about you. Wanda wanted you in a way that she'd never wanted a human before. Thoughts of jealousy began stirring in her heart. As her fingertips explored the softness of your skin.

It didn't take long for that desire to evolve into something more deviant. Wanda found herself hating the physical space between you and her. She found herself disappointed she couldn't be inside you. As adorable as human fragility was, she couldn't stand the fact she couldn't be closer. Wanda needed to be under your skin and next to your still-beating heart. A hoodie could only make up for that half the time.

It wouldn't be much longer before she'd have to feed from you. Only you.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It was embarrassing to admit as a succubus, but Wanda had officially gone multiple months without feeding from anyone. To rub salt in the wound, the one person she wanted to feed from seemingly had no issue sleeping around.

You were always talking up some girl and brought a new one home every other week. That was bad enough on its own, but you were always kind enough to make them breakfast or wash their clothes before sending them off. And once they were gone, you were right back by Wanda's side like nothing happened. Like you didn't just manage to play with the feelings of a succubus and send her into a jealous spiral.

Your latest adventure seemed to get under her skin like no one else before. This mysterious redhead had done quite a number on you. Dark red and purple bruises littered your neck and shoulders and you could barely stand upright. If you hadn't bashfully shooed her away, Wanda wouldn't have had a problem helping. Of course, your little fling was there to save the day.

"I didn't think you'd be able to walk after all that," The woman said with an amused tone. She sauntered up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. Her chin rested on top of your head. "You sure you don't want me to finish those up for you? I'm a little worried you're gonna collapse on me."

You squirmed in Natasha's grasp as her fingers traced along the top of your waistband. "Y-yeah, it's fine Natasha. Just go watch TV or something…" The blush on your face is almost hot enough to cook the eggs. You don't even remember the last time someone made you this bashful. It was new. "I appreciate your offer though," You mumbled, unsure how to carry on the conversation.

"You're still shy even after last night?" Natasha asked teasingly. Her fingertips slipped into your boxers but didn't move much further past the waistband. She pushed her hips against your ass just enough for you to feel the pressure. "I think I like being right here, just like this." She whispered into your ear. Her eyes looked off to the side with a knowing smirk.

The whole scene made Wanda sick with jealousy. Her stomach churned every time you laughed at one of Natasha's jokes. Succubus couldn't throw up, but she. would've already. You were hers even if you didn't know it yet.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You felt like you were going mad.

It was getting harder to suppress your attraction to Wanda. You wish you could blame it on her interest in human clothes or all the cuddling, but neither of those was the problem. It was all your perverted tendencies. Every time Wanda crossed your mind it was always something sexual. These thoughts weren't brief either. Once you started one of your sick little fantasies, it was hard to stop. You were washing 20 pairs of underwear a week with how much precum you were leaving.

Your growing relationship with the demon only made things more complicated. Wanda seemed to become more physically affectionate by the day. Her human form was cute but it was her natural form that seemed to be giving you the most trouble. The shock of meeting a demon for the first time had worn off and you began to notice the small details. If your dick would appreciate them as well.

The only thing it seemed to care about was how big Wanda was. Especially when she was using you as her body pillow. The softness of her breast pressed against your chest and it was driving you mad. You were so focused on not getting a boner that you completely drowned out the noise from the movie.

As fun as watching you squirm and wiggle, Wanda had waited long enough.

She sat up on your lap, straddling your hips with her thighs. Wanda's hand slipped underneath your shirt to keep you pinned to the couch. Her claws lightly scratched at the sensitive skin. "It's cute you think I can't tell how turned on you are right now." A satisfied chuckle escaped her lips as you sucked your breath. "Don't think I haven't heard all those nasty little thoughts in your heads."

Your eyes followed Wanda's fingers nervously. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me!" She toyed with the hem of your shorts. You were at a loss for words. It wasn't like you could deny your feelings with your dick hard as a rock. “I know we’re like roommates, but we don’t have to do anything!” Embarrassment wasn't good enough to describe how you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear.

Wanda ripped off your shorts in one swift motion. “Oh detka, I want to be something more than just roommates.” Her long tongue licked the precum oozing from your neglected tip. It left a savory taste in her mouth that she couldn't help but enjoy. “God you don’t know how hard it was to live knowing you were wasting this stuff on girls who couldn’t make you feel half as good as I do.” Her free hand massaged your balls as she took your length inside her mouth. They weren’t as full as she would’ve liked them to be, but Wanda knew she would have access to them whenever she wanted them. Self-control was quickly flying out the window. Her hunger was starting to take over and she no longer had it in her to go slow for your sake. Wanda needed your cum and she needed a lot of it. “Do you know the best part of having sex with a succubus?”

The pleasure alone had your head spinning. “W-what?” It wasn’t a response to her question, but rather a moment of shock at Wanda’s confession. You weren’t well versed in the land of demons, but you didn’t think Wanda was anything like that. Was she gonna eat you? Maybe you should’ve asked more questions rather than worrying about her paying rent.

Her hand wrapped around your dick and began stroking slowly. She leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “I know exactly how to fuck you senseless.” Wanda hooked your legs over her shoulders. This time, Wanda's tongue went straight for your asshole. She watched your eyes roll to the back of your head with a satisfied smirk. No one's ever fucked you this way. It's almost impossible for her tongue fuck you the way she'd like but your whining makes up for it.

You're a mess. It felt like your insides were melting, but you were too overstimulated to even consider pushing back. You were usually the one on top and doing all the teasing. Now it was near impossible for you to speak without moaning and stumbling over your own words. "F-fuck, I'm close. Please don't stop, I'm gonna cum!" Your hands grabbed Wanda by her horns and pulled her closer to your ass.

Wanda hummed against you. You looked so cute when you were desperate to cum. She pushed your shirt up to your chest and signaled for you to hold it up. Of course, you do it without question. That mindless obedience would get you far. Wanda's tongue pressed down against your prostate. Milking you was a bit much for your first time doing anal, but Wanda wasn't going to hold back.

You couldn't even speak. It was just a string of desperate moans in place of words. The knot in your stomach bubbled up and snapped suddenly. Cum shot out of you in sticky, hot ropes. Your orgasm was almost never ending. Every time you thought it was over, she'd keep pushing you.

Wanda kept milking you until you'd gone soft. Her tongue slipped out of your hole. She wasted no time licking up the cum dripping down your chest and stomach. A deep, guttural moan escaped her lips at the taste of your cum. Her eyes glowed a deep red for a brief second. Wanda looked into your eyes and smirked. "I never want to see you with anyone else. Got it?"

You looked into her eyes and suddenly felt so tired. It was like a trance. There were a lot of questions going through your mind but you were too weak to ask any of them. "Got it." Was the only thing you could manage to say.

Wanda affectionately scratched your head. You were like a pet to her. "Let's get you cleaned up," She kissed your cheek before lifting you up and taking you to your bedroom.

You were grateful for her immense strength and gentleness. There was no way you'd be able to walk all the way to your room after that. You only vaguely heard Wanda's request that you not fall asleep while she prepared a bath for you. As tired as you were, there was something subconsciously urging you to stay awake as she requested. You rolled over slowly when Wanda returned from the bathroom. "Are you like…in my head forever now?" You asked sleepily.

Your question caught Wanda off guard. She didn't answer your question at first. Instead, she rolled you onto your stomach. It was only then that she had the answer to your question. "It appears so." She said calmly. Her fingers traced the tattoo now permanently etched into your skin. "Don't worry, I'll be kind to you..if you behave."

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #Pluto's Halloween Bash 2023

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findafight · 2 years

Text

Steve shows up to work one day with a baby bjorn complete with sleeping baby on his chest and Robin is like Steve....what the fuck?

And Steve says "I would've called you last night but she'd only stop crying when I held her and my parents were fighting, obviously, and I had to figure out how to make her bottle then I fell asleep with her on top of me and I think my dad legitimately forgot about us even though this is his fault, and there's no one to take care of her so I had to bring her. Sorry."

That is a lot and answers very few of Robin's questions.

"who...is she?"

Steve brightens and smiles down at the baby who's tiny baby fist is scrunched up in his work vest. "Oh! My half sister. Her mom works for one of my dad's business partners and brought her to my parents while they were away last week so they came home, mostly to dump her off on a nanny they forgot to hire--hence my baby holder here--and fight. Turns out dad cheating is easier to ignore when there isn't actual proof of it."

"oh. Woah."

"yeah. Anyways, ready to rewind some tapes?"

So they start work Steve logging returns into the computer and cupping the baby whose name I don't know yet's head. Then the little baby wakes up, making little baby noises, and Robin is not one for babies really, but Steve coos and picks her hand off his chest and waves it at Robin.

"see, that's your auntie Robin! Say hiii auntie Robin!"

The baby chews her tongue at Robin and blows a spit bubble.

And how is Robin supposed to not be charmed by that?

"awww," she says, letting the baby grab her finger, "yeah, I'm your auntie Robin. Your big brother's gonna take care of you so good huh? You'll know your way around retail in no time."

Steve giggles.

It is then that The Gremlins decide to show up and Cause Noise. Baby sister starts to cry and Steve takes her to the back to get her to calm down and change her, comes out (ignores the party's questions. Giving them Ultimate Mom Pose with Bonus Effect of Baby) hands her to Robin who is a little nervous but she will not let her new niece (?) Down, and goes back to find and heat up a bottle.

Eddie, who drove the gremlins and was looking for something in his van comes in, sees Robin holding the baby and is like huh? What's this?

And then Steve comes out with a bottle and a baby blanket over his shoulder, reaches for the baby from Robin and tries to get her to latch on the bottle with quiet words and gentle hands and Eddie is not okay he's not fine he's having a melt down because Steve with the kids is one thing but Steve with a Baby is something very different and he should not be expected to keep it together seeing this

Part 2.

Part 3

#steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #platonic stobin #steddie #accidental baby acquisition #listen. his mum doesnt trust his dad. steve deserves a sibling out of that. eddie is just trying to cope #big brother steve #Robin gets to be an auntie bc you KNOW steves raising that sibling. hes like ohhhh if i dont then she will never Be Held just like me...#and so congrats steve! youre a brother/dad!#finda writes stuff #finda's rambles #also note from 2hr post posting: ive decided that she calls steve bubba bc robin calls steve that when he is Especially Sad #and bc steve is baby's main caretaker she latches onto it as hes not her dad or mum but he IS bubba #im aware its usually for little brothers but its also used as 'pal' or 'buddy' and i think robin would call him it affectionately #when bc its Soft. baby gets Soft Steve all the time thats her Bubba!!#also aware its mostly souther but not exclusively!! steve is bubba now to his 4mo sister ok

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aphrogeneias · 7 months

Text

Sometimes, Steve worries himself about the way he handled you in bed.

If you had to ask him, he'd say it isn't his fault. If anything, it is your fault for being irresistable, your soft body begging him to run his hands all over it, but still. Still, he can't help but worry about the way his hands behave when he loses himself in you.

He doesn't think about it when he's doing it, though. When he's kneading your flesh under his fingers, gripping your hips and love handles and waist, not knowing where to hold you first because every sliver of your skin calls for him.

When he has you on top and his hips piston up into your velvet heat, and he squeezes your hips hard enough that his hands leave small imprints on you. When you're on your stomach and his hands find the exact same place, and you're whimpering not only because his cock is reaching impossibly deep inside of you, but because he's gripping you so tight, and it hurts so good.

He thinks about the way he's careless with his mouth, sucking bruises into your delicate skin. How careless he is with his fingers when they grab and pinch your nipples, but that's easily forgotten when he sees your face contorted in pleasure as he looks up from your chest. He always takes the time to kiss them better.

He feels especially apologetic after he manhandles you, working your body as he fucks you, changing positions by just moving you as he wants. Flipping you into your stomach, caging you in with his body to keep you in place, strong arms unwielding. Rolling you into your back when he can't stand not seeing your pretty face, slamming you into the mattress.

"I'm sorry" is almost always slipping from his lips when he holds you afterwards, but he forgets it as soon as he sees your fucked out face, all half-lidded eyes and kiss bitten lips, looking at him like he hung the stars and the moon. He's not sorry, then.

#steve's an intense boy #he loves hard :')#anyway #i'm in a steve mood i need to love on him a little #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic

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lovebugism · 1 year

Text

☄. *. ⋆ ┄ Feel Good

summary: you don't come. ever. well... not until steve harrington comes along. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader warnings: the longest headcanon ever, talks of shitty boyfriends and masturbation, pure smut 18+ mdni! a/n: if you saw this before the repost... no you didn't. and to the anon that requested this: i hope you like it!

( MASTERLIST )

you don't come

this is not an exaggeration

it's purely a statement of fact

because you’ve never ever had an orgasm

not one

not with your fingers, not with a toy, not with a partner, not ever

you get pretty close sometimes

if you're in the right mindset and you have enough time (and a partner who isn't totally focused on their own pleasure

you can actually get really, really close

it’s kinda like climbing a steep mountain and nearly reaching the top

or seeing a glimmer light at the end of the dark tunnel

it always ends the same way, though

you fall from the peak. darkness swallows you whole. the feeling of bliss swells and then disappears entirely.

some of your partners have come up with their own theories

one said you internalized your religious upbringing and turn away from pleasure without thinking

another insisted that it wasn’t their fault they couldn’t make you come because your clit was just too small

the last one told you that you just “needed to love yourself more”

it was exhausting, quite honestly

your partners became your therapist, trying to pry into your mind and diagnose you accordingly

you were an experiment to them

they tried every position and motion to try and get you there, though sometimes it felt like they were only doing it because it felt good for them

some didn’t bother trying at all

they got frustrated with you, called you broken, and left to find someone “normal”

and it fucking sucked

so somewhere down the line, you just started faking it

because that was easier than having those uncomfortable conversations and waiting until they inevitably left you

that ultimately led to you avoiding relationships all together

and then you met steve

and you liked steve

screw that, you liked liked steve

he wasn’t like all the rest of the partners that fucked you over

and for the first time in a long time, you had a really good feeling about the whole thing

but you were terrified of screwing it up

and you were also terrified of lying to him

you were able to avoid it for the most part

that is, until he was about to go down on you for the first time

he’s got you on your back with his head between your legs

you tense when he presses a kiss to your thigh

“you okay?”

“i don’t come” you blurt

“…what?”

“i don’t know why. i’ve just never been able to. and it’s not because of you, okay? so i don’t want you to think you’re doing something wrong or that i don’t want to do this, because holy shit i wanna do this so bad—”

and you’re just rambling

mostly because you feel like if you keep talking, it’ll keep him from saying something you don’t wanna hear

steve just nods and shoots you a small smile from between your legs

“that’s ok :)”

and you breathe out the biggest sigh of relief

because no one’s ever not made a huge deal about it

“can i still make you feel good?”

you just nod down at him bc you don’t trust your voice to say something intelligible

he gives you head that night and he’s good

he’s great actually

but you don’t come

the sex is even better

he makes an effort to find ways that’ll make it feel better for you

he’ll put pillows beneath your hips and push your legs up towards your chest when he’s on top of you

he’ll tell you all the ways to position yourself when you’re on top of him

with one leg bent and your foot flat on the bed so he’s hitting your sweet spot every time he drills into you

and it’s never about him

it never feels like he’s doing crazy positions to exploit you under the guise of “blowing your mind”

most guys only wanted to get you off so that they could feel like some kind of sex god

but steve genuinely wants you to feel good

and he’s so willing to learn your body to help you feel good

one time he sat himself behind you with his chin hooked over your shoulder

“show me how you do it” he said to you

and you did

but it didn't feel like you were some experiment to him either

it was so fucking hot

he made a show out of it, asking you to tell him everything you were doing to yourself and how it felt

“does that feel good?”

“it feels so good—” you interrupt yourself as your mouth falls open in a silent moan and your legs start to tense up

“oh that’s the spot, huh?”

and he likes to learn about all the times you’ve gotten the closest

even though to you it’s mortifying

you’re red in the face the entire time you tell him the only time you ever thought you might actually come was with the shower head

you get embarrassed and hide your face in his shoulder

he’s just like “no, it’s sexy! we can try that if you want?”

but you’re scared that might be a little too exposing and that there would be way too much pressure on you

as always, he’s the most understanding person on the planet

“that’s okay. we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. ever.”

and he makes you feel so safe and cared for

even when you get defeated

because both of you try so hard but you just can’t get there

and after he’s spent an hour between your legs switching between his fingers and his mouth

you start crying out of pure and utter frustration

“steve stop. just stop. there’s no point. let’s just quit.”

and obv when you tell him to stop he’s gonna stop

but he can tell how sad you are when your back is to him and you're putting your clothes back on

and he tries not to smile when you get all twisted in your bra bc you’re so moody that you don’t put it on the right way

“it’s okay baby, we can keep trying—”

“no, steve, it’s not okay! i just don’t get why i can’t be like normal people!”

“there’s nothing wrong with you, okay? some girls just have a harder time than others. it’s okay to come less than other people”

“less?” you scoff “how about never?”

and he’s still patient with you

even while you’re ranting and getting all angry at him and yourself

“i don’t even know why you still try! it’s never gonna happen, okay? ever. you get that, right? there’s no point in trying. you should just find someone else—”

that’s when he stops you

“okay. that’s enough.”

he walks to you where you’re standing in nothing but your bra and underwear and your jeans that you shoved on but didn't button before you started ranting

“it doesn’t matter if you come or not— well, it does, but that’s not what this is about, okay? it doesn’t have to be about having an orgasm. when i’m with you, it doesn’t feel like i’m trying to accomplish something. it’s just about two people who love each other, spending time together, and feeling good”

“…you love me?”

“…was that not obvious?”

the two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling after that

and he’s adamant about not making it about sex

though he keeps having to apologize for his boner pressing into your back

a few days later he surprises you with a present, all wrapped up in with a pretty bow on top

“is it christmas?” you joke at the reindeer patterned wrapping paper

“sorry. that’s all i could find at the house.”

and it’s this huge fuck off vibrator that you know must’ve costed a fortune

you’re totally flustered when you open it and you have no idea what to do with yourself

but he’s so smiley and tells you that he wants to try it with you

and it’s really fucking good

it makes the already amazing sex that much better

you’re on your sides with him pressed against your back

and he holds it against your clit while he fucks you from behind

(he’s having an even better time too because he can feel the vibrations of it from inside of you)

you get the closest you’ve ever been like that

he watches intently when you press your face into your pillow

“are you close?”

you nod wordlessly

“i think… fuck— i think i might come”

and he starts fucking you harder, finding your spot and hitting it over and over again with the vibe still pressed attentively to your clit

a cry rises in your throat and escapes your mouth

and right when you think you might actually have your first orgasm

it fucking goes away

“fuck!”

steve can tell it’s not an exclamation of pleasure, but one of anger

he asks if you wanna keep going

you tell him he can until he comes but that you’re not gonna get there

like a doctor, he prescribes masturbation

and you spend exactly one week using the vibrator by yourself and trying to use it different ways that get you closer and closer

you’re on your back with it pressed into your opening while fiercely rubbing at your clit

and you feel yourself getting closer and closer and closer

it builds in an achingly familiar way

but when the feeling usually starts to ebb, it keeps going

the pleasure crescendos, numbs, and then explodes

having the house to yourself, you don’t bother holding back the noises, the almost painful sounding moans, as they spill from your mouth

the first thing you do when your senses return to you, is call steve

even though it’s 2 a.m.

and when he answers, he’s all groggy with sleep but he’s immediately ecstatic for you

he’s over at your place in ten minutes tops after your promise of recreating it for him

and you’re just absolutely gushing about it and thanking him a ton

because he’s the one who got you the vibrator after all

he wants you to tell him everything so you do

you tell him how you were laying and what you where thinking about

*cough cough* him

and what your fingers were doing and how the real trick was putting the vibe partly inside of you

and you don’t think about how it might make him insecure until the words are spilling from your mouth

because you’ve known guys in the past who get intimidated by dildos and vibrators out of fear that they could never compete with them

steve does express a little bit of that insecurity

he tries to cover it up by joking about how much bigger the toy is than his dick and how pretty soon he’ll be replaced altogether

and he’s laughing but you can tell it isn’t genuine because it doesn’t reach his eyes

so you tell him that you love every single part of him including his dick and that him ‘getting replaced’ is never happening in a million, billion years

when you start trying to get yourself to come again you make sure he’s involved too

both of you are kneeling on your bed and you’re gripping the headboard while he’s fucking into you from behind

one hand is clutching yours and the other is rubbing at your clit

you’ve got the vibrator pressed where you and steve meet

and you can feel him all over you

he’s mouthing at your neck and shoulder

and using his free hand to hold you and tease your nipples

you feel the pleasure start to build and your face scrunches up while you moan

and steve talks you all the way through it

“there you go. you got it— no, don’t tense up, baby, just let it happen... uh-huh, there it is. come for me, baby. come for me.”

and you do

catastrophically so

you tense so hard it almost hurts and you’re shaking like a leaf in his hold

the pleasure is numbing at first before hitting you like a fuck freight train

and you’d be embarrassed about the noises you were making if it didn’t feel so damn good and steve wasn’t praising you the entire way through

“there you go, baby. feels good, huh? you’re so— fuck, you’re getting so tight around me. can barely… holy shit… i can barely fucking move—”

you’re laughing in pure bliss when you feel him coming inside of you

he presses his weight against you and sprinkles wet kisses to your neck, humming praises onto your skin

when you come down and collect your bearings you confess to him, still caught in the post-sex haze, “it didn’t… it didn’t feel like that before…”

“no?”

“uh-uh. felt, like, a thousand times fucking better… 'cause you were here”

and he gets all sweet and blushy, saying he didn’t really do much

but you tell him that it was all him and that he helped you a ton

that he always helps you

“you’re the best sex i’ve ever had steve harrington, orgasm or not”

and this boy is blushing so hard you can see it in the tips of his ears

both of you are love-drunk and happy and dazed

he spends the rest of the night fucking you into your mattress

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #stevie hc #published by bug #st headcanons

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ikarakie · 11 months

Text

one thing you learn living in new york: you literally never know what's going to happen the next day. it's become a general rule of thumb to expect the unexpected, so to speak.

despite this, when the avengers get reports of iron man flying in circles over queens, growing more frantic by the second, they're confused. mainly because they're currently sat at a table with tony stark himself. and, according to his ai, the suit that's out causing mayhem is still securely stored downstairs.

they all head out to see what the hell is going on. they meet with strange on the way, who mutters something about inter-dimensional disturbances and whatnot.

spider-man gets to the scene just before them. the second iron man visibly freezes when he spots him in his red and blue glory. "mr. stark?" they hear him ask. they see as he turns and spots them, and then does a double take. "what's going on?"

"underoos!" real tony calls, nervous, at the same time as the other one spots them, and then lurches forward to all but manhandle peter behind him.

the avengers all tense, readying for a fight. fake tony raises a repulsor. "i just want the kid. i don't want to fight."

"you don't belong here." strange says, infuriatingly calm. "i don't know how you got here, but you need to go home." fake tony nods. strange adds, "you can't take him with you." which earns him a rather mean blast. luckily, he ducks out of the way.

the poor kid is whipping his head back and forth, clearly confused. tony's stomach twists unhappily. "you don't understand," fake tony hisses, "all the work it took to get here. i'm not going home without him."

"you have to." strange takes a step forward, "you can't transport him between universes. it's not viable." the lenses on peter's suit widen, and he looks at the fake tony.

"he's from another universe?" steve asks, disbelieving. strange nods, and opens his mouth to say something more, but is cut off by the other-universe tony. he removes his faceplate, revealing a tony stark that is far more haggard than anyone had ever seen before. he's thinner, his eyes are darker, pleading. he looks like a man who's lost everything.

tony looks to peter, who's still staring, wide-eyed. he can see the gears in his head moving but can't decipher why.

"you dimension hopped to kidnap the kid?" tony asks, a little unfocused. the kid was in danger, and it was all he could think about. "why?" peter turns to him, then back to tony number two. he gasps as something apparently clicks in his brain.

he steps forwards, rounds the other-universe tony and stands in front of him. he instantly lowers the repulsor. "because i'm dead." peter says, confidently.

everyone pauses. they look at the spider like he's gone insane, because he clearly isn't dead, not anymore, at least. but other-universe tony looks like he's had the wind knocked out of him. "pete-"

peter deactivates his mask. "right?" he asks. other-universe tony frantically looks over his face.

"it's my fault." he says, softly. "i'm so sorry. i'm sorry, pete. i'm-"

"come out of the suit."

other-universe tony pauses. "what?"

"come out here, please." peter asks again. other-universe tony does as he asks, stumbling out and immediately into the open and waiting arms of the baby spider. it seems to break him, the embrace; all at once he loses any trace of intimdation and anger and sobs, curling around the boy as much as he can. peter seems unphased, unlike the other heroes, and shushes him. "it's okay, mr. stark. it's not your fault," he murmurs soothingly, only reaching their ears due to the intercom on his suit. "it was never your fault. i chose this, i chose to come up there. i didn't regret it for a second."

other-universe tony heaves. "i was supposed to protect you. i failed. i failed and you're gone and you were so scared and i couldn't do anything-"

"you're wrong," peter soothes, and it's a weird image. the child comforting the adult. "if he was anything like me, then-" for a second, his eyes cut back to this-universe tony. "then he was glad you were there when he was dying. you made him feel safer. it would've been so much worse without you."

and then it all clicks for tony. this was a version of him from a world post-snap, who'd watched a kid he considered his own fade to dust in his arms. who sat in his own guilt, and shame, and loneliness. he knew the feeling all too well, and this tony had crossed dimensions to try and get his kid back in any way possible.

if it were for anyone but peter parker, this tony would've said it was a little dramatic.

he's sent home eventually, the other tony, after some more comforts and a not so subtle hint as to how they got everyone back after the snap, much to strange's dismay. later, real tony sits in the lab, watching peter from across a table, and he asks, "how'd you figure it out?"

"figure what out, mr. stark?"

"why that other me was here." peters looks up from whatever he's tinkering with. frowns.

"well, you invented time travel to get me back," he says. "why would you stop before dimension travel? it just made the most sense." tony has half a mind to argue, but one look at his lab: a midtown high hoodie draped over the back of a chair, a teenager's backpack in the corner, a seperated table with it's own organisational pattern and piles of blueprints, a report card pinned to a board, and a spiderman charm hanging from dum-e, he figures the kid is right.

"yeah, well, i love you a little too damn much then, don't i?" he doesn't think about the words before he says them. he's felt it for so long it feels like a second instinct.

luckily he gets no time to panic. because peter immediately lights up, says, "i love you too." and gets back to work.

damn kid.

#dont ask me when in canon this is set cos it isnt #irondad #spiderman #iron man #tony stark #peter parker #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #spiderman no way home #irondad fic #irondad and spiderson #spiderson #spider son #irondad angst #kinda #lol

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artaxlivs · 10 months

Text

This is ridiculous.

Eddie has important stuff To Do. He's a busy rockstar with a never ending list of stuff his manager and agent keep reminding him that he needs to get done while he's not on tour.

But. His house is being remodeled. And one of the carpenters or handymen or journey...men? journey people? whatever. One of the dudes in a tool belt. Well - he's hot as all hell and Eddie can't seem to find a single fuck to mark off that To Do list.

Every day this man shows up in jeans that hug his ass, a tool belt slung low to one side and this pristine white polo shirt with a logo over his left pec. The other people - people not men because there are actually three women in the mix, all with arms that could crush Eddie, and if he was into chicks, he'd be looking respectfully - are all in various dark colored shirts with a similar logo on the back or in the same spot on the chest.

But White Polo is the only white polo. White Polo must be in charge. He does seem to give a lot of orders. He's got big sexy hair and a strong voice. The first time Eddie was close enough to hear him talk, he had some feelings about that strong voice giving orders. The kind of feelings he explored later that night in his own bed. Alone.

It's not a mean voice though, not aggressive. Rather, it's the kind of voice that steadies you in a storm, that you can rely on. The kind of voice that probably sounds gravelly and sleep mussed on a Saturday morning. The kind you want to wake up to. The voice that Eddie wants to wake up to.

And it's not just the voice and the looks. It's the competency, too. Earlier this morning, White Polo was helping the crew put some kind of wood frame up. He hammered something in and then twirled the hammer and stuffed it in the tool belt all without looking. That was going directly to Eddie's spank bank. Maybe he could find other things for them to remodel so White Polo never has to leave.

"Mr. Munson?"

Eddie startles, almost dropping his Garfield coffee mug. There's a lot of noise in the house and he was sort of doing one of the things on his list. Writing a song in his head. It was definitely not about a man in a tool belt. Nor was it about anyone getting nailed.

Jesus Christ.

Clearing his throat, Eddie turns to White Polo, "It's just Eddie."

"Well, Just Eddie, I'm Steve." His voice is soft, strong though, with that little bit of gravel. It's not Eddie's fault at all that he's imagining him whispering in Eddie's ear when they're both sleep warm and too comfortable to get out of bed. "Looks like we'll be done here in another two days."

"Oh." He says dejectedly, not meaning to have such an honest reaction but he can't help himself. He's wasted three days just glancing at White Polo - Steve - from afar. Now Eddie's on a time limit. Two days isn't nearly enough time. Would it be inappropriate to invite him to dinner? Or to stay? Ask him for --"Coffee?"

Steve smiles and it's kind of small, like it's a secret smile, just for Eddie. Brushing his hair back over his ear, Steve says, "I shouldn't but...your coffee smells kinda great so...sure."

Grinning, Eddie tells him that he gets the beans from this little mom and pop shop that brews their own beans. The band discovered them on tour years ago and he still gets his beans shipped from them every few months. He's babbling but he can't seem to stop himself, telling Steve about different roasts and his fancy machine that cost more than his first van back when he was sixteen and living in a trailer park.

Leaning against the counter, Steve listens patiently, watching Eddie with hazel eyes and that little smile. He's got these cute moles that Eddie wants to kiss. Broad shoulders he wants to feel pressed up against the backs of his knees.

Shit. He almost spills the coffee when his face suddenly heats up at that.

"Everything okay?" There's concern in Steve's voice and he reaches out to steady Eddie's arm. His callused fingers brush Eddie's arm just over his bat tattoo and...oh.

It's like nothing he's ever imagined. So much more than all the stories. It's the biggest, brightest, most intense thing Eddie's ever felt. Just a brush of fingertips and the spots light up with gold. Three brushes across the bats' wings and a fourth smaller one off to the side. Eddie can feel the tingling on the underside of his forearm where Steve's thumb must have brushed as well.

Surging forward, Eddie cups Steve's cheek, leaving a bright gold palm print on his jaw, a thumb smear up by the cheek bone, bits of gold in the shapes of fingers curling along the side of his throat, and one little dab on the lobe of Steve's ear. Their lips are pressed together before Steve's fully reacted to the soul bond but that's okay. They don't have two days, they've got forever.

A few years later, when Corroded Coffin wins album of the year at the Grammys, Gareth takes the mic away from Eddie as he's doing all the polite thank yous to managers and agents etc - and he thanks Steve, telling the world, "If Steve had never been a hot guy in a tool belt, Eddie would never have written Golden Bats, Hammer of Love or, Eddie's favorite," Gareth says, grinning and leaning really close to the mic like it's a secret, 'cause it kind of is, "Ride the White Polo."

My Masterlist

While there are other gold touch soulmate mark fics, I've only ever read them in @kangofu-cb's Gold on Your Fingertips in the Winterhawk fandom and it will always be both one of my favorite soulmate fics and one of my favorite Clint Barton fics.

#I'm so so gay for a soulmate fic #Also on the album is To Do Me List #construction worker steve harrington #Just steve in a toolbelt really #send me you favorite soulmate recs i will read them all #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things

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begginmonty · 7 months

Text

finding out your career counsellors secret

(kinda links to working with mike, a prequel if you may, also i refer to him mostly as steve throughout this as you do not know his name is william afton yet. also not proofread again sorry. also its kinda bad im sorry i just got carried away)

it’s your 4th shift at your new security guard job and everythings going fine, no break ins, no weirdos, nothing, it’s nice and peaceful a book sits in your hand and a hot drink sits on your desk as the clock hits midnight yipee 6 more hours you mentally sigh

suddenly the animatronics performance mix starts playing through the speakers and you quickly snap out of your book, sitting up in your chair, confused as hell.

looking at the camera feeds you can see the animatronics on stage performing?? no ones pressed the button but there they are?? must be a bug right, a fault???

you cautiously walk to the performance area, flashlight in your hand, peaking around making sure no one had broken in the few seconds your eyes were away from the cameras. there's no one. just you and singing robots.

eXCEPTTT this is a little different because usually 30 seconds or so into the song bonnie moves in a way that blows the fuse of the whole performance but it hasn’t happened. they’re performing fully??

this wasnt in the fucking job description

you walk up to the showtime button and press it to see if it’ll stop the show but nope, it’s still going on and it’s starting to freak you out a little - yes it’s cool to see the animatronics move but this is something else, maybe turning off the whole electricity will work?

as you look at foxy, his eye completely makes eye contact with you for a few seconds but looking back to where it was before - did that just happen???? that’s just part of the show right?? The fox did not just make direct eye contact with you purposefully???

freaked out a little, you step back away and to the main centre of the room and breathe a second, trying to control your thoughts and your worries. its all just in your head. they’re probably malfunctioning a little bit its fine, go turn the power off and on again.

“fucking hell” you mumble, going to turn around but suddenly from behind, there's an arm strongly clutching your face, a hand covering your mouth and your hands are held tightly behind your back, like some sort of police arrest, by the other arm. you go to let out a scream, but the hand tightly clutches your mouth.

“ssh” and you're wiggling around trying to break free but whoever's holding you is immensely strong and manages to keep you locked in place. with their hand still covering your mouth, the captor forces your head to face forward of the performing animatronics.

there's a deep chuckle from behind you, “it’s truly amazing isn't it?” . uh oh. you recognise that voice. you’ve heard it a lot but no?? it cant be right??

but your suspicions are right as your captors head sits against yours, upon your shoulder, and you look out of the corner of your eyes and there he is. steve. steve raglan, your fucking career counsellor.

he’s captivated by the performance of the robots, a look of pride upon his face, and he’s slightly moving the two of you to song. tears of fear are welling in your eyes, shaking, but the song comes to an abrupt stop and the animatronics shut down.

“YOU ARE USELESS!” he seems to shout at the animatronics??, “YOU CANT EVEN FINISH ONE SONG!”

you’re just stood in his captive, confusion and fear writhing through your body but in his moments of shouting, you nearly manage to pull yourself away from him but he’s quick, he seems to know what he’s doing, and he just grips you closer to him, his breath on your neck, he sounds angry but he lets out another chuckle. a deep, evil sounding one.

“steve?” you manage to get out, a few tears escaping your eyes.

he laughs, he’s enjoying this sick and twisted moment, “bet you weren’t expecting me were you?” and his voice is deep and dark and moving your eyes to look at him next to you again there's an evil smirk on his lips. “this is always fun”

then it all went black

your eyes slowly blink open to a blinding light looking at you, and it feels like you’re at the dentist but you quickly snap back to reality when you realise your hands are bound as is your chest and you’re sat/laying in some sort of mechanical chair. there's, what you can only describe to be, a ribcage looking contraction either side of you but when you look in front of you, is a head contraption, it looks like freddy’s but metallic.

“wakey wakey” steve is sat, like a dentist, in a swivel chair, shirt sleeves rolled up, to the right of you and you look at him and he’s got that evil grin on his face again, he’s leaning against your metal seat. “Awe” he says pouting his lips in response, to the tears in your eyes and the way you're desperately trying to free yourself.

and you’re pleading with him to stop, and he’s looking down at you, and his gaze lingers on your face for a minute too long before he moves and flips a switch next to him.

the metal face in front of you whirrs and begins moving closer to you, and you're shaking your hands like mad trying to free yourself. he’s just stood watching, and you’re pleading and pleading, “please i wont say anything to anyone. I’ll do anything please!”

everything stops and the machine is retracted away from your face, your chest falls in relief and steve is looking over you again, “you know, i’ve always had a strong liking for you, y/n” and his eyes are lingering on your face again as he brushes a fallen strand of hair away, your eyes lock for while, and he smiles.

nothing is really explained to you for the rest of your shift. but you realise he owns this place and whilst you’re calming down, he explains about a new hire and how he wants you to make sure he does not quit the job. before he leaves for the rest of your shift, he has that lingering gaze and strokes your cheek softly.

you spend the rest of your shift sitting in your office chair, freaking out, collecting your thoughts and trying to chill the fuck out. what the fuck just happened.

#fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #william afton x reader #william afton #five nights at freddy's x reader #five nights at freddy's #william afton imagine #steve raglan

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strangersteddierthings · 7 months

Text

Beg You to Love Me

"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.

"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.

The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"

Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."

"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."

Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.

He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"

"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"

Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"

"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.

"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-

"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."

"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"

"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"

"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"

"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"

"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"

"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"

"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"

"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"

"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.

"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.

Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"

"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"

Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"

Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."

Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.

"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"

Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.

"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."

Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"

Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.

He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.

He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.

He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"

He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."

"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.

"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."

Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.

Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."

"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.

Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."

They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.

Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."

The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.

A goddamn miracle.

Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.

They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.

They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.

But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

#steddie #my fic #this is just Miscommunication The Fic #hurt/comfort #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckleys the mvp for setting up the meeting by lying to eddie #shes going to demand a thank you gift for giving them the time to talk #and eddie WILL send her a whole fruit basket

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