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denim-mixtapes · 2 years

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Stained Skin (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson/Reader)

Word Count: 1.8k Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson/F!Reader Warnings/Tags: Language, implied smut, pet names instead of y/n (Sweetheart, angel, gorgeous), alcohol mention, dumb horny distractable boys, one brief mention of blood, improper tattoo aftercare (don't,,,let people touch your fresh tattoo, loser) lame set up for a potential part 2. Summary: The scavenger hunt is on when you tell your boys there's a surprise hidden somewhere on your body, but not what or where it is.

The second you arrive home from the tattoo shop, you’re reaching for the phone, buzzing with adrenaline as you pull it from the wall.

You call Eddie at home, no answer, which isn’t a shock. He’s usually never there alone, he’s always either with you at your place or bugging Steve and Robin at work. Then, Steve, again no answer. Finally, punching in the number for Family Video, you find success.

Robin answers, customer service voice dripping with sincerity when she greets you. You force back a laugh at the fake tone.

“Hey Rob, it’s me,” you say, and can practically hear the friendly persona melting off of her when she sighs. “Are my boys there?”

“You want the one that actually works here or the squatter?”

“Hmm,” you finally let out the laugh and lean on the wall, twisting the phone cord with your finger absentmindedly. “Gimme Eddie, let Steve do his job.”

“Oh yeah, cause he’s getting so much work done now. Hang on,” there’s a crackling on the other line and a thump where she must have set the phone on the counter. “Hey dingus! No- not you, the pretty one…” Her voice trails off as she walks further away from the phone, there’s a protest from Steve and a friendly argument in the background before the phone is picked up again.

Eddie’s voice through the phone sparks in your ears and with the excitement already prickling your skin, it sends shivers down your spine. “Hey sweetheart…miss me?”

“Always,” you breathe. “You keeping Stevie busy at work?”

He laughs, repeating your answer of, “always,” pointedly. “But I know that’s not why you called.”

Leaning against the wall, you look down and play with the hem of your skirt to reveal your new ink, biting back a smile. “You’re right. I gotta surprise for you guys.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“That wouldn’t be much of a surprise would it?”

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t tease,” his tone is hushed, and in the background you hear Steve greet a round of customers. “Give me a hint at least? It’ll still be a surprise to Steve.”

His tone is so sickly sweet, the way he always sounds when he knows he’s going to get what he wants. You take another glance at the dark ink staining your skin and throw your surprise idea out the window, just itching to hear his reaction.

“Okay but absolutely do not tell him, I want a genuine reaction from one of you at least.”

You can practically see him miming the gesture as he says, “cross my heart.”

“‘Kay,” a brief pause, and you giggle at his patient silence, “I got a tattoo.”

Instead of a verbal reaction at first, he only gives a light gasp, a slow intake of air that gets caught in his throat as he contemplates all the possibilities of what it could be, where it could be. “Is that why you wouldn’t tell us where you were going after work today?”

“Mhm,” you hum, “thought it would be fun to show instead of tell, once it was done.”

“Well come on down!” He says, his volume rising with his excitement, “Why wait? We’re both at the store, why not stop by?”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you think of your response. Dropping your skirt, you shake your head, knowing full well that he can’t actually see the motion. “It’s not exactly…public appropriate.”

There’s no response. Another long pause and the slam of his open palm against the countertop, and he yells away from the phone, “Harrington! When are you off?” Steve’s mumbled response can’t be heard clearly through the receiver. “Good. We gotta go get our girl. Are you home, angel?” You give another small sound of confirmation, and he continues, “Okay, stay put, we’ll be there soon.”

Both of you say your goodbyes, and a glance at the clock tells you that it is, in fact, almost time for Steve to be off. Well, in about a half an hour that is, but you’re sure with Eddie’s prompting and those damn puppy dog eyes he could convince him to knock off early. He would owe Robin big time, but she’d let him go and close up alone.

While you wait for them to arrive at your apartment, you decide to swap out the miniskirt that you wore to your tattoo appointment (now stained with ink and dried up blood) for a cleaner, slightly longer one that covers the whole design. You put on a record, grab a beer from the fridge, and hop up onto the kitchen counter with a wince to flip through whatever magazine is closest while you wait.

They’re beating down your door in minutes, scuffling with each other behind it, bickering like they always do. Eddie is the one knocking, if the rapid excitement behind it tells you anything. Steve is no doubt trying to push him out of the way to let them in with his spare key. You hop off the counter and go to let them in, only to see both men dropping the play-fight to act as natural as possible, leaning on opposite sides of the doorway and smiling back at you coolly.

“Boys,” you greet with a smile of your own, backing up with a hand still on the doorknob to let them inside.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice is low as he stalks up to you, backing you in against the counter and looking over as much of your exposed skin as he can. Finding nothing, his hungry gaze meets yours and he’s pulling you by the nape of your neck in a feverish hello kiss.

Shadow covers you both as Steve appears behind him, leaning into the two of you to rest his palms on top of Eddie’s, caging you both in.

You brighten as he leans down over a leather clad shoulder to kiss you too, happily calling out his name and a soft, innocent, “baby, hi! How was your day?”

“Would either of you care to tell me why I now owe Robin a no-questions-asked shift change because I was practically dragged out of work early today?” He asks, brow raised and a stern look in his eye.

You grin at Eddie, lip caught between your teeth, and exchange a playful look with the one boyfriend who is in on your secret. He turns in the embrace as best he can to kiss the corner of the frown pulling at the other man’s lips. “Our angel’s got a surprise for us, Stevie, and I was sittin’ on some delicious information that I didn’t think you would want to wait any longer to hear.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve’s eyes darken as they turn back to you. He doesn’t know what he’s in for, but the tone of Eddie’s voice and the way you’re looking at them both through heavy lids and fidgeting in the way you always do when you’re hiding something tells him he’s going to like whatever it is. “What is it, gorgeous?”

“What is it with you guys and surprises?” You chuckle, pushing on Eddie’s shoulder so they both back up and let you stand fully. “If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise! You gotta find it.”

Another laugh rips through you when Eddie takes your hand and twirls you dramatically, looking your body up and down once again. Your skirt ruffles around your calves and he eyes the newly uncovered patch of skin carefully. When you come to a stop in his arms, he’s rolling up the sleeves of the baggy henley you’re wearing and inspecting the skin there, too.

Following Eddie's lead, Steve turns his attention to you, hands roaming your body, caressing every curve he finds, smirking at the both of you when he reaches the knot in the front of your shirt. “Is it that you’re wearing my shirt again?” He teases, pulling at the knot until the shirt falls slack on your frame, “that isn’t really a surprise. You do that every day.”

“Nope,” you grin cheekily, “but it might be under the shirt?”

Arms raised above your head, two sets of hands eagerly pull at the hem of the top, pulling it up and over your head and thrown to the side. Eddie turns you gingerly again, slowly this time, both of their eyes practically devour you. You feel the heat of their stares, and when you’ve done a full circle, hands on your hips bring you to a halt. He’s about to protest that he doesn’t see anything but then you hiss at the touch, the fresh tattoo under Eddie’s tight grip stinging, warm. Knowing eyes fall to where his hand rests on your hip, and he lets go as if you burned him. He falls to his knees and presses his lips to the skin by your waistband, meeting your gaze quizzically when your breath hitches.

You nod, looking between the two men with a shy, bitten smile as Eddie lifts the hem of the skirt to reveal the new tattoo. It crawls up your outer thigh, up over your hip bone and onto your buttocks just slightly. The view is unobstructed, your panties long forgotten the second you got home.

They both breathe their reactions, a chorus of “oh” and “fuck me, Christ, you’re gorgeous” that sends heat straight to your bare core.

With his free hand, Eddie traces along one of the more prominent outlines in admiration, earning another hiss from you, pleasurable pain taking over your senses. The way their eyes are glued to you has you squirming, but Steve still stands rooted to the spot, not having said anything past his initial, oh. Pride swells in your chest at the fact that you’ve rendered Steve Harrington – a man who never shuts up – speechless, not for the first time.

Reaching down to the one at your feet, you run your fingers through his dark, unruly hair, your gaze still fixated on Steve.

“We know how Munson feels,” you smirk, nodding toward Eddie when you regard him and nibbling on your bottom lip. “What’cha think, Stevie?”

Finally, he stalks toward you and grabs your cheeks posessively. He mumbles a broken, “you’re fucking incredible,” before licking into your parted lips eagerly.

Below you, Eddie tugs the elastic waistband of your skirt down your legs gingerly, taking care to not not to drag it across your tender skin and lips following along behind it on the way down.

You sigh a soft moan into Steve’s mouth, brain already short circuiting at the promise of what’s to come, and you can’t help but think…if this is how they react to this new tattoo, who knows how eager they’ll both be when you come home next week with pierced nipples.

#steve harrington/eddie munson/reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington/eddie munson/you #steve harrington x eddie munson x you #steddie/reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #smut #?? kinda?#idk what to call this genre #soft smut #lets go with that

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five-star-stay · 6 months

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Oh this is unholy

#SO MANY THINGS I WANT TO YELL #but i must stay poised #hannie u look great sweetie #lets go with that #lalalala mv #han jisung #han #skz #stray kids #rock star #pirate han jisung

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stellamancer · 11 months

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kitchen improv (katsuki bakugou x reader)

notes: just like everything else in this series based on real life experiences! LMAO. i should be working on shine on the sea but this happened lmao. i promise i am really not this prolific!!!

contains: possible ooc. i have very little confidence when it comes to writing bakugou’s voice. also not proofread/beta read, i apologize for an errors.

wc: 1.1k

Bakugou is going to kill you.

You fret wildly over your stovetop, over the pot of soup gently boiling there. It smells heavenly and why wouldn’t it? It was a recipe you’d received from Bakugou a while back, after he’d shown up on your doorstep one evening, touting a container housing a bright lemon yellow soup. He’d said something about making too much and not wanting it to go to waste, and you, ever the glutton, were not one to refuse a free meal, especially one that was home cooked.

You also suspected he’d known you’d planned to eat, as he liked to call it, more of that ‘convenience store shit’ but that’s neither here nor there.

Rather than just leave the soup with you, he’d come in and the both of you chatted while you graciously ate the warm velvety soup he’d offered you. To be honest, it was probably supposed to be two meals worth, but Bakugou’s cooking was so damn good you’d consumed it all in one sitting. Once you were done, Bakugou, after what looked like some thinking, handed you a little recipe card, written in a neat and careful hand, for the soup and off-handedly remarked that even someone like you could probably make it.

He is going to kill you when he finds out he was wrong.

You can already hear him now, annoyance and disappointment saturating his voice as he tells you exactly what you did wrong: you didn’t follow the instructions. It’s not that they were hard to follow or even vague, because Katsuki Bakugou is nothing if not meticulous. You just happened to be… a little loose with them. It should have been fine, you’ve heard that cooking is not an exact science, that it’s okay to improvise a little and that things would still turn out fine.

But maybe you improvised just a little too much.

Panicked, you pace back and forth down the length of your kitchen. Is there something you can do to salvage this? You glance at the pot, the soup looking more and more ominous by the second. Surely, there’s something you can add to make it better… but what? More eggs? More broth?

While you’re contemplating your options the doorbell echoes throughout your apartment and you curse. More than following the goddamn instructions, what you really should have done was not mention to Bakugou that you were making his stupid soup recipe. He’s been teaching you how to cook for how long now? Of course he was going to come and try the fruit of his student’s labor.

You take a deep breath and march over to the door. There’s no use in pretending you’re not home; he already knows you’re here. Besides, if you ignore the doorbell long enough he may very well just bust his way in on his own, thinking you’ve passed out in the kitchen or something.

The front door swings open revealing Bakugou, dressed casually in one of his black t-shirts. You do your best to not get distracted by his sculpted arms, peeking at you from beneath his sleeves; you’ve got a crisis to divert.

“Hey,” you say, leaning against the doorway, with what you hope doesn’t look like a strained smile.

Bakugou’s eyes narrow immediately. Wrong move. He glances past you toward what you think is the kitchen, then looks back at you. “Fess up. What went wrong?”

You gulp. Of course he can tell.

He snorts, and before you can even try to explain yourself, he’s pushing past you. Desperate, you latch onto one of his arms, but it doesn’t stop him.

“Bakugou, wait, I can explain—” you whine as he stomps into the kitchen.

“Doesn’t smell like ya messed up, so—” He stops short as he peers down into the pot. Your breath stops in your chest. Your heart too. Bakugou is completely silent as he stares down into the abyss known as your stock pot. He doesn’t look at you when he finally speaks, his voice completely flat. “You didn’t use chicken stock.”

You squeak. He’s correct. “I… I thought vegetable stock would be okay because that’s what I had on hand!”

How were you supposed to know that vegetable stock would affect the color of the soup that badly? Instead of the pretty lemony yellow the soup is supposed to be, it is a strange cross between orange and brown. If you had to be honest, the color is absolutely off putting— no food meant for consumption should be this color.

Terrified of Bakugou’s response, you shut your eyes, preparing yourself for the scolding. But… it doesn’t come. When you open your eyes he’s still staring at the soup, frowning slightly, like he’s actually unsure what to do. You wonder if he’s also thinking if there’s something that could be done to fix the color.

“...d’ya taste it?”

You definitely seasoned it, but you were far too worried about the soup’s unpalatable color to think about tasting it. Bakugou can tell what your answer is and reaches up to flick your forehead.

“Idiot. Y’should always be tasting yer damn cooking!”

You wince. “But the color!”

He lets out a frustrated sigh and grabs the little tasting dish he convinced you to buy and ladles a little bit of the soup into it, sipping at it. Bakugou’s expression doesn’t change as he tastes the soup, so you can’t tell if it tastes as bad as it looks or worse. Then, he ladles a little more to the dish and offers it to you.

Scared, you stare at the pale brown liquid. It can’t be poisonous. If it was then Bakugou would have said something. For sure. But still, you’re worried. What if it’s gross?

“Hurry up. We don’t got all night,” Bakugou grumbles.

You take a deep breath, and lean forward to try the soup. As you do, you realize that this would count as Bakugou hand feeding you. The thought makes you almost spit out the soup, but you manage to keep cool so you can taste it and…

It actually tastes good. Not the same as when Bakugou made it, but good. Most definitely edible.

You stand up straight and Bakugou is regarding you with a small smile. He knows it’s good too. “Food ain’t all about looks, ya know. “S more important that it tastes good.”

You nod in agreement. He has a point. You’ve eaten a lot of ‘ugly food’ that tasted amazing and a lot of ‘pretty food’ that tasted like garbage. “Right.”

He nods, then flicks your forehead again. Kinder this time. Gentler. “Just make sure ya follow the instructions next time, dork.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #nikuniku fics #in regards to me #i had the stuff to make a homemade vegetable stock so i did that #i should come up with an actual name for this damn series #kitchen adventures with bkg?#lets go with that

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thrasheraxe · 8 months

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I hate him and his stupid pretty face

#metallica #james hetfield #jaymz #axl’s thoughts #he unlocks something primal in me #never have i ever wanted a dick shoved down my throat so bad #cough #i mean ahem…#never have i ever wanted to hug someone so bad #sure yeah!#lets go with that

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arom-antix · 9 months

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I made meme because it's important

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lotsadeer · 4 months

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Hello it is @faelynfawn. Oh my gods, please inform me about your Cirque Du Soleil AU.

Me 🤝 You

Circus/Cirque Du Soleil AU

@faelynfawn I'm not on my pc so I cant find the post I made about it AND MIND I'm not a circus knowledge haver I'm a theatre kid who wanted to be a techie for CdS SO ALL OF MY THOUGHTS COME FROM THAT ASPECT

anyway so the show's story is based on 3rd Life, focusing on the war between Dogwarts and Monopoly Mountain, with intercuts of the different factions and individuals.

Scar's character is interesting because he is a clown who, upon killing the Red King, ceases to be a clown. I havent thought much past that yet but your circus au has me havin THOUGHTS on what he does in the show

If I was gonna write this fic (I have a mecha au fic I gotta do first) it would be UUUUH treebark because I'm me and I'm an absolute idiot for treebark. Specifically Martyn's perspective. Techie who bumble fucked his way into being the understudy for The Hand and then the performer got sick/injured so woops you're in the show now! And Ren who has been off and on flirting with this tech now gets to see him MORE?? best show ever.

All of my knowledge of CdS has to do with the like, acting and character archetypes and set design and lighting and shit. I am a techie through and through. I haven't looked at the circus aspect of it (yet).

I have uuuh

some drawings of Ren's costume I think. Cause I am also a costume design nerd.

Masquerade themes, everyone is wearing a mask to hide who they are etc etc THEMES also I like dual purpose costumes that change as the character changes by just undoing a snap. favourite shit right there.

tell me what you think I am very 👀 at your circus au also having Cirque du Soleil inspirations (shaking your hand as a theatre kid)

#I dont remember the tag I gave this #cirque du soleil life au #lets go with that #jazz hands

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lookslikethatsallthetimewehave · 6 months

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If December comes and goes without them updating the story, then it literally will be a year since the story's been missing...

I guess Grapple-Pap got the creators.

#lets go with that #crack theory #poptropica theory #poptropica #home island #poptropica amelia #poptropica baron #poptropica red baroness #grapple-pap #poptropica screenshots

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davepetasprite · 2 years

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im terrible at drawing comics but here

#homestuck #karkat vantas #gamzee makara #gamkar #sure #lets go with that #my art lol

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zarvasace · 1 year

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For the mini-fics: "dream" (Four Swords, any AU, maybe some Red/Blue if you feel like it? Only if you feel like it though, I do remember you mentioning it wasn't one of your ships, and I'm happy to read any interaction between the two <3)

It... it wasn't one of my ships. And then your writing, and then this, and uh. Anyway, I guess this is some kind of tragic fairytale AU. (it isn't long!)

---

"I don't like this," Blue muttered, shadowing Red as they stalked through the castle halls. His heels clicked on the polished floors, and glints of armor and a crown kept catching Red's eye in the mirrors.

"I, Red, the prince and heir of Hyrule, do solemnly invoke the sacred Wall of Thorns."

Red tried to ignore the warm presence at his shoulder. This was not the time or place for dreams, especially silly dreams like taking Blue's hand, or leaning against Blue's chest, or dragging him into one of the closets they passed and—

Army, approaching. Danger, imminent. Blue, bodyguard, not boyfriend. Not now, not ever. They'd run out of time. It hurt.

"This castle and all therin will be protected from harm by the Thorns of Nayru, caught in time just as their prince."

"Nobody likes it, Blue," Red answered. He hoped his voice didn't shake, or that Blue would take it to be fear of the coming storm rather than anything else. They slowed in front of the large door just ahead, decorated with wrought iron in the shape of thorny rosevines.

"I don't want to let you go through with this."

"But you will, because there's no other way. You agreed about that." Red unlocked the door, and Blue helped him to push it open. It felt heavy, in more than one way. His steps slowed as he approached the raised dais in the center of the dim, circular room.

"The land will be blessed and forgotten by all but its inhabitants until I may take possession of the throne once again."

It wasn't strictly tall enough for him to need help, but Red held his hand out anyway. "Help me up?"

Blue's hand was warm under the soft leather of the glove. After Red stepped up, Blue followed, and Red had to actively avoid his eyes, or he'd get lost. They didn't have the time to waste.

Red sat on the richly appointed bed and looked at his hand, still clutched in Blue's. "You don't have to be here right now."

"You're not going to keep me away."

"I know." He'd been so sure that he'd have time with Blue someday. But Blue couldn't be… he couldn't lift the spell of he was trapped inside it with the rest of the castle. With the rest of the kingdom.

"The spell will lift only when one who can be considered a soulmate bestows upon me true love's first kiss."

Red picked up the small book on the night table and lit the candle, all with one hand.

"This spell is irrevocable, impenetrable, and absolutely binding."

He'd been so sure. He started reading the spell's activation, even as hoofbeats sounded in the windows.

---

If I wrote out this whole thing, there would be a loophole or something where Blue doesn't actually fall asleep but ends up being captured by the enemy and has to fight his way out—or maybe Green and Vio show up and one of them could be considered a platonic soulmate—or magic blips and just Blue wakes up, minutes at a time every few years, watching the world out the windows change, battling with his feelings and taking a long time to get over himself. There are a lot of options!

#my writing #3sent #four swords #whats the ship tag #uhhhh #ive never tagged this ship before #red x blue #lets go with that #fsa red #fsa blue #their ship name would be bled or rue #which are cool but neither are quite the right vibe #blred #relue #its fine

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