#porcelain steve

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Eddie is, perhaps, the only person who seems to be handling the fact Steve has been turned into a porcelain doll in a level-headed sort of way. Probably because he's the newest person to be privy to Upside Down shenaniganary and quiet honestly just thought 'ah. Of course. Why wouldn't something like this be possible?' instead of freaking out and screaming like everyone else.

"It's a physical impossibility, Robin!" Dustin shouts.

"Well, we thought monsters didn't exist before, but guess what-" Robin is shouting back.

"The monster situation was scientifically plausible, now proven scientifically true! Transforming a living person into a doll is magic, and magic isn't real!"

"It fucking is now! Look at Steve!! Look at him!" Robin, who is holding Porcelain Steve, shakes him in Dustin's face, complete with the clack of porcelain on porcelain.

Eddie isn't even fully aware he moved from his spot on the couch in the Byers-Hopper living room until he's snatching Steve out of Robin's hands with the thought of 'he gets migraines too easily for you to shake him like that' and then is left wondering if little Porcelain Steve can get migraines. "Stop waving him around like a flag, Buckley. Porcelain is fragile, you could break him."

It's a testament to how worried Robin really is about breaking Steve that she doesn't instantly rip him back out of Eddie's hands like she had when Nancy had first picked him up.

"We don't even know that's Steve," Dustin has never been gracefully about potentially not being right and now is no different.

"I know that, Henderson!" Eddie snaps, pulling Steve to his chest in a protective two armed hug, "But wouldn't you feel like shit if this is Steve, somehow magically changed, and we've accidentally murdered him by busting his little porcelain face?"

That brings Dustin to a pause and Robin starts up again, backed by Will now.

Eddie retreats, not back to the couch, but out the front door and away from the arguments. Aside from hating the sound of people yelling at each other himself, he doesn't want Steve to hear it either. Steve only enjoys an argument he can be bitchy in, and he can't really participate.

That is, if Steve can even hear anything. If this is actually Steve changed, and not just the creepiest ransom threat left in the form of a perfectly porcelain replica. Down to the moles on his face and the scars on his torso, which Robin had claimed felt like paint when she'd ran a shaking finger over them.

He sits down gently in the front lawn, crisscrossing his legs and lays Steve in the cradle they create. Blank hazel eyes stares up unblinking into the sun and Eddie finds himself hovering a hand above Steve's face to... protect his eyes, he supposes. He'll admit to feeling a little embarrassed about doing it -anyone walking down the street could see him shielding the eyes of a doll in his lap- but if Steve is trapped in there, can see out those eyes, well, he'd rather do the kind thing and be little embarrassed about it.

"Don't know if you can hear or not, Harrington," Eddie says, "but worry not. If anyone can figure out how to return you to your flesh prison, it's this crew. Not that you need my assurance on that. You know what they're capable of better than I."

It's quiet on the front lawn except for the occasional car rolling down the street or dog barking somewhere down the road. Eddie's never been a fan of quiet, so he talks to fill the silence. Not about anything really important. He recaps the current Dungeons and Dragons campaign he's running for Hellfire, which has been relocated to Jeff's dining room for the summer.

"And Will, very smart strategist that one, delayed his turn in initiative -that's the order they take turns in in combat- to cast Fireball in the room once everyone had run out of it. Worked great, especially since several of the creatures were invisible at the time and-" Eddie goes on, interrupting his own story to explain mechanics, or spells, or give backstory on why something was important, so that Steve wouldn't be too confused about everything. It probably all still sounds like a foreign language to him, or he's just tuned Eddie out, but Eddie would like to think that Steve would appreciate it.

Eddie sits outside long enough for his butt to go numb and for the sun to shift lower in the sky before he hears the front door open and close and Robin sits herself down next to Eddie.

"Come to some sort of agreement yet?" Eddie asks, turning his face towards Robin.

"No," Robin sighs, reaching a hand out. At first, Eddie thinks she's going to take Steve but she just pets at his hair for a moment before pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. "El's got an idea, though. Don't know why we didn't think of it sooner. She's going to try and find Steve, y'know, with her mind. Someone will come let us know what she discovers, so no rush to head back in."

"Oh," Eddie replies dumbly, looking from Robin down to Steve. They sit quietly for a few minutes before Eddie says, "Is it wrong of me to hope that this is Steve?"

"Depends on why you hope that's Steve, I guess."

"'Cause then we know he's safe," Eddie says softly, almost a whisper. "'Cause if this is Steve then he's not... not kidnapped somewhere, alone, maybe being beaten up or tortured or- those things happen far too often."

"Then no. It's not wrong to hope. I think right there in your lap is probably the safest place Steve's been, well, ever."

"I don't know Buckley, he was pretty safe in your hands."

"I shook him around like a ragdoll, Munson," Robin levels him with a look, "I'm woman enough to admit I get caught up in my nerves and don't think of consequences. I'm not, like, the number one klutz or anything but it didn't even occur to me that we could really hurt Steve until you said it. Like, what if what happens to the doll actually happens to Steve? What happens if his arm shatters or-" she cuts herself off to pull in a shaky breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to Steve," Eddie says, voice more confident than he truly feels but comforting Robin is important. Steve usually grounds her with some bitchy look and sarcastic phrase but he's not close enough to Robin for him to be sure he wouldn't just be insulting her instead of joking. "I won't let anything happen. You won't. No one in that house would."

A deep breath from Robin, then, "yeah. You're right. You hear that Steve? We've got you, and nothing's going to happen to you except becoming a real boy again."

Eddie huffs out a laugh and sits in the quiet with Robin, waiting to be called back inside once El has made contact with Steve.

#steddie #platonic stobin #my fic #inspired by that poll #porcelain steve #one shot (?) #why do i do this to myself? dont i have enough WIPs out in the world?

[miramelindamusings]

I've been so busy with my new job that I haven't posted in a while. But I try to do little sketches as warm ups and so these random sketches of the boys were born :) ! I was watching Toy Story and seeing Woody's lanky arms flopping around made me think of Steve and then this happened! And of course, harringrove kisses are good for the soul.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #st #my art #my fanart #I am intrigued by like a toy AU though that's not necessarily Toy Story -- like what if like Steve is Dustin's toy and Billy is Max's #and the toy takes on the appearance of Billy her brother who ran away/died #and what sort of toys would everyone be anyway? I feel like Chrissy would be a barbie/porcelain toy but can't say for everyone else. #anyways I have to give it more thought XD

[adelacreations]

Re8 au but instead of Lord Billy being the Lady D of the AU, he's the doll of Lord Steve Harrington. The second Lord the Party comes across in trying to find and get Will Byers back. A lone noble recluse with dead parents but a oversized doll that he lovely calls Ladybird. No one knows where the doll came from but some claim it was a gift by his parents to him before their demise.

Max calls the doll, Lady Scissorshands because of the claws that extend when attacking.

In the middle of the overgrown gardens, there lays a grave. Surrounded by potent flowers. When the Party puts the grave stone back together it reads,

William (Billy) Hargrove

1967-1984

"My one true love, you have my heart, my life...nothing could compare to you, my Ladybird."

(Aka Billy was human and a lover of Steve but died due to unknown circumstances. Whether due to the Cadou or his own grief added with his decreasing mental health, Steve created a 9'6ft doll of his lover, that sounded just like him. Behaved as Billy as well. Apart of Steve's cadou is embedded inside the doll)

Inspired by a discord convo about Lies of P that turned into a RE8 au bit. I might draw this if there is any interest

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #billy antis dni #resident evil village au #don't you love it when your blorbs go unhinged for each other? #making your lover into a doll so they stay with you forever? #forever made in porcelain and paint #inspired by discord groupchats

[smolsaltypan]

Based solely on the fact old ladies like to give me porcelain dolls for whatever reason, I think it would be funny if in and amongst the prep Steve collects weird granny like shit. Maybe he gets into knitting or crochet and suddenly all the grannies in his neighborhood are like "I don't trust my children not to break/sell these for absurdly cheap but I know you'll appreciate this random possibly haunted thing" and offload doilies and other oddities onto Steve. At some point he ends up with a porcelain doll that looks eerily like Eddie, even has on an elaborate frilly black velvety dress to match the aesthetic, which is what inspired this thought to begin with. Knickknacks Steve.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #i own my grandma's glass basket/animal collection #her pins too #she also bought me a porcelain jasmine from disney #my neighbor also gave me some porcelain dolls #??? i have no clue why people gift me these things but i do appreciate them so. #i broke two of the glass baskets and im still devastated. one too shattered to glue together years ago according to teen me #the other i have to glue the handle back on

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

i've rotated glazed defects in my mind about once a month since i read it and i want you to know that matt murdock fanfiction is now my favorite method to learn about supreme court cases and if you ever want to write another supreme court crossover i will gladly show up to your lecture with my three-ring binder and different colored pens

oh thank fuck I have truly found my target audience thank you beautiful readers i am absolutely going to be writing more about the Supreme Court in my fanfiction

#glaze defects #*stares at other one shots I have started for this universe* #I am a HUGE fucking nerd about SCOTUS decisions #ESPECIALLY the anticanon #it’s like my everlasting passion #if anyone out there is every interested in learning like. casually about law. I HEAVILY recommend doing a review of the anti canon #especially if you’re interested in what’s happening now with the Supreme Court #like if you understand how SCOTUS can twist logic to do the most fucked things possible then you just have a much better understanding #if what’s happening now #also I’m just a gigantic fucking legal dork #i have a presently unpublished vigilante ensemble fic that I fondly think of as my bucky Barnes designated driver au #proper expert witness identification and in camera review was a plot point #me writing glaze defects was just: the law makes everything more fun. let’s copy and paste an entire paragraph of the analysis. #pls join me for the Tony stark aside explaining where the fuck he has been (I swear to god there’s a good reason he’s not there yet) #for a discussion of international policy making and the role of federal injunctive relief in the development of law #the Steve Rogers aside for a discussion of 1940s eugenics statutes and policy including the one referenced in glaze defects #and the Luke cage aside for how the principle of legal discretion can change a stupid amount of how the law is executed #I swear to god these are more interesting than they sound #not gonna lie these character studies were never supposed to be a Thing before glaze defects #porcelain chips was published first but I thought that was a one off #i care Way Too Much about the law okay I have to make it a part of my character studies #and I’m so passionate about how at least semi accurately can enhance the writing of a story #writers of she hulk pls call me you do not know what a da is or how the law works #writers of she hulk pls it could have been so much more #stopping my rant before I swan dive down a rabbit hole but i legit watch legal shows and classify their mistakes on a scale of ‘eh harmless’ #to ‘you actively undermined your own story’ #Disney you have such a big budget please just ask a single lawyer pleaseeee #oh I almost forgot Sam Wilson is getting an aside wayyyy down the line and we are GOING to talk about Iqbal and twombly #possibly the agent orange litigation we’ll see

[creativecuquilu]

Third week of the Halloween Party!

I am begginning to consider drawing a few scenes of said party, including some more characters, but I won't film. Said scenes might be just sketches for I may have no time, but I'll try to give them some color and cleanliness.

By the way, happy BTTF day.

Hope you like it!

WATCH IT - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSf6fIZH9bc

#countdown #speedpaint #halloween #party #cat #marty mcfly #sherlock holmes #headless #butler #sansa stark #porcelain doll #rachael rosen #sexy #cop #jenna stannis #pirate #agent j #steve urkel

[lokisgoodgirl]

Five Times [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: An evening of psychological foreplay comes to a head. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki x Female Reader. Smut. Established relationship. Possessive/Soft Dom Loki. Non-toxic jealousy. Language. (w/c 1.6k)

“You look so ravishing, I can barely stand to ruin you-” Loki growls unconvincingly as he backs you against the bedpost.

The sweet tang of jealousy seeps from him, clinging to his skin and hair and wicked smile the way the black suit clings to his muscles.

“-But I will,” he promises darkly. It times perfectly to the press of his forearm against the wood above your head.

Before you can muster a response, his face is buried in your neck. Biting, pulling.

His angular jaw presses feverishly against your collarbone, licking and groaning against the skin. This is one of the ways, he has. One of the ways to be his. The deeper part of him that wants to feel he might lose you. It awakens the deepest part that knows he never could.

The sharp of his teeth graze against your pulse-point, and for a second, just a second, you think he might sink in with invisible fangs. Suck you dry, like the vampire you always suspected he might be. And what’s more, tonight you’d let him.

Five times, he'd tried to whisk you away at tonight’s event to take care of dark business in dark corners. And five times, you turned him down. Just as he had asked.

And each time, as instructed, you found one of the others to dance with. Steve, Bruce, Sam, Bucky, Scott. Winding your arms around their necks, running your hands down their chests. Five men, five dances. Pawns in you and your lover's elaborate foreplay. And each time, Loki’s cock had grown harder; concealed only by magic. Just.

His towering body is pressed flushed to yours. Every inch of your god from his dress shoes to the thick muscles straining against the collar of his shirt is in contact with your heated flesh. His stomach melds against your chest, the rise and fall of shallow breaths making you dizzy.

Loki’s hair falls like a veil, shielding you from a reality where anything exists but him. As if you could ever need anything else.

Hot breath and the settled musk of his cologne floods your nostrils in ragged, heavy pants. Possession soaks the hungry pull of his mouth over yours. The god’s lips are wet, a mix of his frantic kisses and the saliva welling in his mouth at the scent of you. The feel of you. The loss of you, if only for a moment.

No. Five moments. Frantically wandering hands find their way up your back, fingers digging beneath the tight back of your sultry gown. This dress cost a month’s salary, and he’s about to tear it right- -riiiiip Ruined fabric skates over your hips, fluttering to rest by your ankles. “Apologies,” he mutters unapologetically.

The god’s hands run up your waist, palming your breasts upwards. He stares at them, mouth hanging open. There’s a noise in his throat that’s an inhuman frequency. That could wake the dead and call them to his will. “Loki,” you whine needily, batting your lashes as his darkened eyes rise to meet your own. There is little of your sentimental lover in those eyes tonight. Tonight, he wants to fuck.

He growls again. It grows louder behind the clench of his teeth as his hands fly to his belt, undoing the buckle with uncharacteristic sloppiness. You begin to yank at his tie, loosening his collar and pulling it free. Loki smiles. It’s a cruel, close-lipped smile he saves for very special occasions these days. But his eyes sparkle.

In a flash, you are airborne. Loki has tossed you over the thick wooden end of the bedstead, and you land with a bounce on the mattress.

He chuckles darkly, pacing with aching slowness around the side. Long fingers toy with the porcelain buttons of his shirt. He un-pops one. And then two.

You shiver, the tension building in your body making you shake. “Lokiiii,” you whine again.

He looks through half-lidded eyes, the outline of his thick cock protruding against black suit trousers that are just a touch too tight. As always. You extend one leg, tracing his hard-on with your toes. The god tilts his head, releasing an impatient sigh. “Do not toy with me, woman” he breathes, sucking in air as you push your foot hard against the solid mass. “You’re toying with me, Laufeyson” you coo. It lights a fire behind his eyes. His chin lowers, dark tendrils falling sluttishly over the blades of his cheekbones. “Present yourself, then” he utters, laden with ceremony.

Holding eye-contact for as long as you can, you arrange yourself as instructed. On all fours. Loki groans behind you as you push your ass up, the inevitable slide of his palms over the round, soft flesh making you tremble. He squeezes firmly, and you feel his breath on your skin just for a moment, before his tongue traces the base of your spine. “My woman,” he murmurs against the curve. You hear the hum of a zipper, the gentle clink of metal as he brushes the buckle from its path. A moan of his name ruts from your throat, and the air in front of you shimmers. An ornate mirror melts into existence. It reveals your spread thighs, your breasts heaving and face inches from the mattress as you await Loki's reckoning.

He looms behind you, pushing his hair back with a rake of his fingers. It piles to one side, errant strands hanging and jutting from wild angles.

His shirt hangs open, exposing a sliver of taut milky skin. The bottom is untucked at the front, the back still holding its shape despite the splayed zipper exposing a flash of densely muscled hips.

In his hand he pumps his cock slowly. A bead of pre-cum glistens at the tip. He looks fucking devastating. And in the mirror, his eyes are fixed on yours.

“Say it, darling kvinne.” he orders quietly. “Fuck me, Loki...” you manage breathlessly. Wetness slips between your legs, and you realise with a shameful thrill that you’re humping air. “Fuck you?” he goads. He tuts. The god bites his lip, releasing it slowly with a slurping groan, pleasuring himself leisurely to the image of your desperation. “Not make love to you?” One brow cocks, awaiting your response. Your forehead dips to the mattress, sobbing in frustration as you gather silken bedsheets in your fists. The cool of his belt buckle presses to your ass, fingers curling around the base of your neck. He urges your face gently upwards, meeting your own eyes in the mirror. “Very well." he purrs. "Then fuck...we shall.” The fat head of Loki’s cock nudges against your sopping entrance, squelching. His ragged moan rips air as he squeezes inside, a thick vein which runs from the root of his manhood up the shaft dragging against your plump walls. “F-fuck. ” he curses as you cling on for dear life.

The joy of him filling you is instant, an utter satisfaction the like of which you’ve never known. Loki seats himself to the hilt, the dual sensation of his pubic hair and the leather belt slung around his hips making you clench.

“I warn you,” he gasps on the exhale, “I am unlikely to last. Not after tonight.” All you can managed is garbled praises as he begins to thrust.

Again and again, he bottoms out. His cock pulls against the lip of your pussy, nudging against the sticky entrance before sheathing tight once more. The gratuitously filthy words dripping from his tongue made even filthier by the rich velvet of his voice.

You can’t take your eyes off him in the mirror, chin tipped to the ceiling as he loses himself in your heavenly cunt. Loki’s fingertips dig into your hips, trembling with the effort of containing his strength.

He delves deeper, disgustingly sensual moans and whines escaping his throat as your arousal slips and slides against his cock. His thrusts are sloppy, desperate. The hard mass of his thighs slaps against the back of your own as he bucks, gyrates, consumes you from the centre of his masculinity.

He’s transfixed, staring down as he watches his slippery, throbbing member disappear inside you again and again. A delicate dangle of drool lands on the base of your spine. Loki is so close already. He won't last, he said. And he meant it. Strands of hair stick against his forehead, buffeting against the pants from his lips as he takes you over the side of his bed.

You grip the bedsheets tighter, losing yourself in his lust. The vein in his neck throbs, pulsing with the need to empty himself inside you. “No one,” he gasps as his hips shake at your back end. “No one, f-ucks you-” He lets out a strangled moan, moist cotton-clad stomach moulding to your back, “no-one fucks you but me. ” “N-no-one,” you cry, voice shaking as climax begins to rattle through your core. “Loki...oh, f-fuck, Loki yes..uhh-god, f-fuckk-” You look up, just as his eyes close to the world and his face flushes pink. The god’s neck is straining, the clench of his jaw and the bulge of his throat pushing you over the edge. He straightens, fingertips digging into your hips as climax thunders through him.

Loki’s jaw hangs, brows peaked as you feel the force of his load explode deep inside your cunt. A roar of your name fills the air. Erratic thrusts continue in the mess, milking himself inside your ripe heat that blossoms only for him. “Only for me...” he rumbles breathlessly as your eyes meet in the mirror.

His stomach curls against your back again, one hand sliding up the curve of your breasts, fingers curling around your jaw. A digit slips into your mouth. You suck.

“Only for you.” you echo, muffled against the finger resting on your tongue. And behind you, Loki smiles.

"One down, four to go." he whispers.

Tags (contd in comments) @wavyhairedvixen @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki x you #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki x you smut #loki x yn #loki odinson smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki odison x reader #loki imagine #loki laufesyon x reader #loki gif #lokismut #loki x female reader #loki x f!reader

[buckyalpine]

Buttercup

Bucky x Reader

Childhood friends to lovers. Thought of this randomly and I thought it was so cute because imagine chubby baby Bucky in love with his cute little neighbor. Imagine this little boy with his messy mop of brown hair on his head, rosy cheeks, blushing over his friend who he adores so much. He toddles over to her porch, excited over the very important game of hide and seek they had planned for the day.

Y/n, y/l/n, or Buttercup according to him is his favorite person in the whole world besides Stevie. He loves Steve, he knows he does, but Buttercup is different. He gets these little butterflies in that chubby belly of his whenever they play together. He's usually a rambunctious devil but not at all with her. If she wants a tea party, he'll sit with her on her yard with a picnic mat spread out, always sneaking a few cookies from the jar for them to share.

She really likes the swing that hangs on the branch of the tree in front of his house. He'll push her with all his might till she squeals with laughter; a big toothy grin on his face when she says faster Bucky. When she trips over and scrapes her knee, he's dashing to his house to find a band aid, blowing on the cut just like his ma does when he hurts himself, he's so careful with his shaky little hands.

"Tank you Bucky" You say between a sniffle, kissing his cheek without thinking, the both of you innocently blinking at each other before running off and playing again. All Bucky knows is that he wants Buttercup by his side for his whole entire life.

So imagine his joy when he finds out its a possibility.

He's in his nicest buttoned shirt, tucked into his dress pants and polished shoes, hair combed over to the side. He kicks his legs while sitting with his mother, father and sisters, watching one of their family friends recite their vows at the altar. Winnifred already had to place her hand on his leg twice to keep him still, warning him that he had to behave at weddings since it was an important day.

"Why are they getting married?" He asks, wondering what the big deal was if they were in church on a Saturday.

"Because they care about each other Jamie, they'll be happy together forever" She whispers, pulling her squirmy little one onto her lap so he can see better.

“Can me and y/n get married mama?” He asks with large innocent eyes, hopeful she’ll say yes.

“You wanna marry y/n, huh?” She coos, brushing back the strands of soft hair that cover his forehead. “Y’know you’ll have to take care of her baby”

“I know” He nods with confidence, of course he'd always take care of his Buttercup.

“And you’ll have to work real hard" Again he nods, just waiting for her to say yes, maybe he can get married tomorrow! "You gotta love her with all your heart"

"I do mama, I do!"

"Then one day baby boy, one day you can marry her"

"But I wanna marry her now!" Bucky doesn't understand what the issue was, he knew he loved his Buttercup right then and there, why did he have to wait?

"Just wait a little while okay? My sweet little boy" Winifred laughed at her baby's fallen face, kissing his flushed cheek. "Before you know it, it'll be your turn"

Patience wasn't Bucky's strong suit but if it meant he'd be with you, he'd wait as long as he had to. He sat on the soft grass with you under the shade of a tree, sipping on a cup of lemonade your mom had brought out for you both.

“I wanna marry you” he pouts, "But mama says I have to wait and dad said I gotta ask p'mission first"

"Then we can be best f'wends forever?" You ask excitedly and he grins in response.

"F'wends forever"

"You promise?"

"I promise"

Now I thought about stopping this fic here but....

Some may have thought that eventually his puppy love lose its fire but no. His crush doesn't ever die down. Not when he nicks a flower from his mothers prized garden when you turn 5. Not when he gives you his favorite brown bear for Christmas. Not when he saves up all his allowance to buy you your first porcelain doll for your 10th birthday. It just grows and grow until he stands before you, wiping the tear that slips down your cheek when he comes to say good bye before going off to the army.

“One day m’gonna marry you doll" He whispers, doing his best to blink back his own tears while you sniffle against his chest.

"You promise?" You ask him with the same innocent doe eyes you had when you were little,

"I promise" He hugs you tighter, not wanting to let you go, the both of you spending the afternoon under the same shady tree. His mothers ring is kept safely in a box, tucked away in his room. He'd spoken to your father in private as soon as you'd both turned 18, not wanting to waste a second. All he had to do was return, safe and sound to his Buttercup.

Bucky goes through hell, sees the worst things imaginable, some days he struggles to keep his eyes open, cuts and wounds littering his battered body. However, when he closes his eyes and thinks about her smile, the way he'd get butterflies when she giggles, he knows he has to survive and come home. It doesn't matter how hard it is to keep going now because one day it'll all be worth it.

Which is why he practically runs home once the war is over, zipping in and out of his house and up to the porch next door, panting with flushed cheeks. He hears shuffling on the other side, his heart beating erratically while clutching onto the ring, the knob clicking open.

"Buttercup?"

"Jamie!" You gasp, tears running down your face in no time as you throw your arms around him, your feet lifting off the ground as he spins you. "You're back!"

"I promised you doll" He presses his forehead against yours before sinking down on one knee, smiling up at you while you choke back a sob, his hand holding onto yours.

"Buttercup, will you-

"Yes, Jamie yes!!" You nod frantically, while he happily slips the ring onto your finger before kissing you deeply, only pulling away to breathe. He doesn't give you long, pulling you back for more, his tongue laced with yours, unbothered that you're both on the porch, most of the neighbor watching quietly with steamy eyes.

Honestly, imagine how emotional everyone would be seeing the handsome soldier with his beautiful sweet bride up at the altar, going rom little babies to children to two souls that were meant to be together from the start. So cute.

#bucky barnes fluff #40s bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x fluff #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x f reader #bucky barnes x freader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanmix #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fan fics #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #marvel fluff #avengers fluff #marvel fanfics #avengers fanfiction #40s bucky #40s bucky barnes

[sytoran]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀

kinktober day 001 | CW!wanda x beefy!avenger!reader

after a particularly taxing work day, there's no better stress relief than your cute little bunny sleeping half-naked in your bed.

cont. mild non-con, vaginal fingering, begging, daddy kink

word count. 1390

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

"Fucking arrogant men and their fragile masculinities," you grumble in frustration, forcefully ramming the keys into the keyhole and unlocking the door.

It had been another hellish day of dealing with Tony Stark and Steve Rogers’ clashing personalities. The result of their foolishness meant a mission going haywire and taking about seven more hours than it should’ve.

As expected, you were pissed off. You shrug off your leather jacket, revealing a tight-fitting tactical suit, and then you kick off your shoes. Trudging up the stairs with your mind still in a fit of hazy anger, forcing open the door to your bedroom–

Seeing your pretty girl half-naked on your bed and deep in slumber.

You physically feel your chest relax, shoulders drooping as you exhale slowly. The burning heat that was fury subsides and the smaller flames burn in a different kind of lustful way.

Wanda was asleep in one of your old SHIELD shirts, which was about three sizes too big for her. Her cute, stiff nipples were poking through the fabric that was tight around her big chest, and the addition of tiny sleeping shorts made her all the more tempting.

"Bunny," you whisper, quietly crawling onto the bed, scared to ruin the serene silence.

Along the way, you unzip your tactical suit and toss it into a forgotten corner of the room, leaving you in just a pair of black boxer briefs and a sports bra. You puff out a breath of hot air as you slide into bed with Wanda, dragging the sheets over the two of you as your arms envelop your smaller girlfriend.

The little witch was the small spoon nearly all the time, not that you were complaining. You revelled in the feeling of enveloping Wanda in your arms, protecting her and keeping her safe.

Of course you also enjoyed the other benefits of having your hands so close to your girlfriend’s chest.

Wanda lets out sleepy little noises as she unconsciously shifts closer into your embrace, evidently still fast asleep with the slow rising and falling of her chest.

Her head fits under yours like a satisfying puzzle piece, her head of brown hair tucked under your jaw like it was meant to be. You lean down in the slightest to inhale her sweet scent of lavender soap, pressing a soft kiss on her head afterwards.

You can feel your residing anger gradually fading away, but the tension is still written between the lines and you can’t seem to erase them: in the furrowing of your brows or your tightened grip, in your uneven breaths or your racing mind.

Eventually, your hands creep up Wanda’s shirt, seeking that stress relief like it was second nature.

“Fuck,” you curse quietly, upon actively feeling Wanda’s lack of a bra, rough hands meeting soft mounds that you so loved to caress.

Today is no different, with you kneading her breasts, perhaps even a little rougher than usual. 

Fat spills from your fingers as your greedy hands seek more, the tips of your fingers pulling at her hardened buds. A low rumble sounds in your chest at the cute, affected noise Wanda lets out. 

However, she remains asleep, and you’re free to do whatever you please.

Soon enough, your mouth seeks out the sensation of warm skin, and your teeth find solace in the column of her porcelain neck. Leaving love-bites in different shades of red across Wanda’s skin, she stirs in your grasp, squirming slightly.

Your movements never cease. In fact, you get more eager at the prospect of your girlfriend waking up to such a dirty sight: you greedily groping her tits with your crotch pressed flush against her ass.

“Need you so bad, bunny,” you grunt, knowing Wanda can’t hear you, but having the criminal urge to voice out all the perverse things you were going to do to her.

Smoothly, one of your hands glide down the expanse of her torso and beyond the hem of her sleeping shorts. You’re met with the lace of a pair of panties — but nothing turns you on more than the growing wet spot you find that covers Wanda’s pretty little cunt.

“You’re so needy for me even in your sleep, hm, baby?” you ask heatedly, your other hand remaining up her shirt to massage her tits. It had been too long without having her like this, and you craved to memorise every crease of her lithe figure before your next mission.

Impatiently, you rub your fingers on that wet spot on Wanda’s panties, the growing slick making your fingers wet through the fabric. Your girlfriend emits little cries of discomfort at your unending teasing, turning in her sleep as your hand forcefully enters the threshold of her panties.

“Fuck, bunny,” you growl into her neck, two fingers finding her wet heat and then plunging inside.

It’s the sensation of your thick fingers pushing into her slick cunt that has Wanda awakening with a start.

“Y/N!” Wanda gasps out, high-pitched and breathy. You can imagine her eyes darting around the darkened room, only to register your vice grip around her body, one hand up her shirt and the other down her pants.

“Shh, bunny, go back to sleep,” you say, low and inviting. Wanda’s too sleepy to discern the affected tone of your voice.

“C-can’t sleep when y-you’re touching me,” she whimpers, velvet walls clenching the thick length of your fingers. She’s squirming so much in your grasp, but you’re so much stronger physically and she can’t get out of it.

“Sorry, bunny,” you lie easily, fingers still exploring her tight little cunt. “Five minutes, kay?”

Wanda lets out an incoherent whine when your finger brushes against a sensitive spot. “Too tired, Daddy,” she answers, adorably sleepily.

Yet, Wanda’s body instinctively attempts to arch off the bed when you harshly tug at her nipple, rigid to your touch. “Oh,” she moans, legs spreading wider unconsciously.

“So fuckin’ needy,” you repeat, your left hand thrusting deeper into her tight cunt. Your mouth is now on the juncture of her neck and her shoulder, a quickly purpling bruise making its mark. “Fuck, baby, let me make you cum, okay?”

Wanda tries to protest, the stimulation already too much for her partially unconscious body, but you take her shallow pants as a ‘yes’ and slide in another finger.

Wanda mewls at the intrusion, the familiar feeling of a tightening knot in her lower stomach making itself known. “Daddy,” she whimpers helplessly, fingernails clawing at your iron-hard forearm packed with muscle.

“Yes, bunny?” you pant, moving your three fingers in tight little circles, Wanda’s slick coating them. You were trapped in a headspace of lust, only aiming to make your pretty little girlfriend squirt all over the sheets.

“Please?” Wanda begs mindlessly, her desperate tone making your head spin. She doesn’t know what she’s asking for anymore; maybe it was for you to stop, or maybe it was for you to bring her to a long-awaited high.

“Mhm,” You take her plea as the latter, harshly curling your three fingers inside her tight pussy, your other hand flicking at her rubied nipple. Just like that, and Wanda lets out a choked noise of pleasure as she cums. 

Your grip on her never lightens as Wanda throws her head back onto your shoulder, thrashing as wave after wave of an orgasm washes over her body. Her fingernails dig crescent-shaped imprints into your forearm.

“My pretty girl,” you whisper, fingers continuing in slow rocking motions so Wanda can ride out her high. Her body is too warm under the sheets, lightning-sensitivity overtaking her body, but Wanda feels if she leaves your grasp she’d simply melt into nothingness.

You listen as the erratic breathing of your girlfriend gradually evens out. “Still tired?” you ask, the low husk of your voice raising goosebumps along the shell of Wanda’s ear. 

Wanda only uses both of her hands to drag your left hand back up her body and to her mouth. Grinding her ass into your crotch, her pretty lips wrap around your fingers and suck, suck her own juices off your fingers and into her mouth.

That’s all the confirmation you need before flipping the two of you over, pressing your body weight into Wanda’s front.

It was going to be a long night.

so... how do we feel about day 1 of kinktober??

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

#sytoran's kinktober 2023 #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader #x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #wanda x reader smut #wanda x y/n #gxg smut #wlw smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #marvel smut #top reader #dom reader #bottom wanda maximoff #sub wanda maximoff

[taintedcigs]

— hardest of hearts

“darling heart, I loved you from the start. but you'll never know what a fool I've been.” ‹‹ — florence + the machine, hardest of hearts.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: jealousy has never been your strongest suit. you realize that even better when you see steve and nancy in close proximity. based on this prompt by @dumplingsjinson (wc: 1.6k+)

warnings: just absolute fluff, maybe tiny angst, and making out, they kinda go hard at it for no reason, this is just an excuse for me to ramble abt how pretty steve is bye.

author's note: ohh if u want pls listen to hardest of hearts by florence + the machine when u r reading!! luv that song <3 and again. ignore the corny summary and i didnt proof-read and wrote this shitty thing in 30 mins yada yada!!! based on this amazing request i got from my lolo bean angel @lofaewrites i hope u like it MWAHHHHH!!!!

pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Jealousy.

That ugly feeling clawed at your insides, consuming you whole, bringing out the worst in you and you knew it, yet you couldn't help it. Finding yourself powerless against its caging grip.

The venomous glare you threw at the two of them surely had to burn off Steve's back, but they remained rooted to their spot, talking about whatever the fuck, while Nancy lingered far too close to him for your liking.

Her curls danced in the dim light, swaying with each infectious giggle that escaped her lips at his jokes. The sight of her head thrown back in mirth only made your blood boil more with it.

You wondered what the fuck was so funny that he felt compelled to whisper to her, the sight of them so close to each other had your entire body feeling hot, an ugly feeling consuming you whole. The fragile porcelain filled with alcohol threatened to break under your harsh grip.

And of course, you couldn't help the way you act entirely unreasonable when he comes back to the booth.

Cold, a total raging bitch, your mouth feeling hot the more you snapped at him. And he knew, he knew the exact reason for your attitude. Yet, he couldn't help but find it adorable. How your lips downturn as you scoff at him, just because you're jealous.

You storm out to catch your breath and get some cold air, his footsteps fall into sync behind you, because he can see right through the facade you desperately clung to, see the way your doe eyes flash hurt, thick lashes hiding your disappointment behind the anger.

You lean against the brick wall of the bar, the chilly Hawkins air seeping through the fabric of your coat, almost enough to calm you down before you can hear Steve's hesitant footsteps as he closes the distance between you.

He's making you so pathetic.

The concern in his eyes mirrors the ache in your chest, gaze searching yours for answers you were reluctant to give.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, tone merely honey-glazed.

He didn't let you answer, instead following up with a, "Or are you just... jealous?" That stupid smirk lingers on his lips, making your insides gooey, while you wore that scowl as your mask.

"What?" You scoffed, playing dumb, as you crossed your arms against your chest, almost to protect your feelings.

"Oh my god, you so are," he teases, that damned smirk stretching his mouth into a full grin, reaching all the way to his eyes, causing them to crinkle, so pretty that you are melting all over.

"Shut up, Harrington," you murmur, heat spreading across your cheeks, gaze unable to avoid him. Pools of warm honey-toned brown eyes drawing you in so effortlessly.

"God, do you still not believe me?" He shakes his head with a slight huff, shoulders slumping in defeat.

You know exactly what he's talking about, with the way his brows quirk up, and he tugs at his silky hair in frustration.

Steve told you he liked you. A couple of days ago. But you just scoffed and huffed, rolling your eyes in his face.

You couldn't—more so—you just didn't want to believe it. You thought it was too good to be true.

Couldn't believe that he would want you when he used to be so hung up on Nancy. Blame it on your insecurities, or your attachment issues. Or blame it on the fact that you were scared. So fucking scared.

And you'd rather avoid all of it than have him break your heart. It's unreasonable, but to your idiotic brain, you're being logical.

"H—how do you expect me to when you end up doing shit like this?" Your tone is barely above a whisper, suddenly insecure like you're exposing yourself bare to him. You just need him to convince you. And he knows. He finally knows.

"Like what? Talking to Nancy?" He scoffs, like it's ridiculous. To him it is. That you even can believe the idea that he still thinks about her, when all that invades his mind is you.

"Like talking to your ex, the same ex you were hung up on," you reply back bitterly, words burning your tongue as they barely roll off your lips.

He leans in closer to you, almost to make a point. "Were, like you said." He spits in frustration, "past fucking tense. I moved on, so long ago. You know that."

"And she just said hi, as a friend. Nothing more," he enunciates it carefully and would explain that to you all goddamn night, if it meant it would wash your worries away, he meant every word he said to you. He didn't care about Nancy. It was you. And from now on, it was only going to be you.

You were desperate, so desperate to not show him your true feelings, but of course he could see right through you. "Maybe, maybe she did, but-"

He groans, not even caring that he's interrupting you. "There's no fucking buts, sweetheart, I told you, told you that I fucking liked you, that I wanted you, why do you insist on trying to push me away?"

You gulp when you notice how he has you caged against the textured walls, your back hitting the bricks with a soft thud, his breath flushing your already heated cheeks. "I don't—"

"What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” His words are harsh, not in a rude way, only to get it through your thick skull. Show you how much you actually mean to him.

Rough hands end at your side, that annoying strand of hair falling to his thick lashes, making him look so pretty that you just want his hot mouth on yours. "There is no one else for me but you, and even you can't fucking change my mind, yeah?"

"I don't give a fuck about any other girl unless they're you." Words fall like silk from his lips, and they are heavenly to your ears, blinking quickly to process all of it.

And he enjoys it, sees the way your gaze glimmers, cheeks adorned with a sudden warmth as you give him those doe-eyes that make him want to crumble into you, fully.

You nod dumbfoundedly, almost to let him know that you finally believe him, and he gives you a soft chuckle, raising his brows "Are you going to let me take you out on that date?"

His caramel hues swirl hypnotizingly as they gaze into you, so alluring paired with the striking moles all over his cheek and neck, making you wanna kiss him all over. "Mhmm," you hardly mumble, too focused on taking all of him in.

He reaches up to touch your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin like feather, soft but making you flustered nonetheless, the faint scent of his woodsy perfume invading your senses. "Come on, use your words, honey," he coaxes, fingers leaving goosebumps in its wake as you can feel him all over.

"Y-yeah," you faintly mumble, not so confident in your voice when he looks at you all hungrily.

His mouth slightly curves into a bigger grin, leaning in as he whispers "Atta girl," almost making you whimper at his low tone.

You lean closer, urging his mouth to yours. He groans when you sweep your thumb over his jaw, knees giving out at the sound. Soft candy lips brush against yours, so agonizingly slow that the heat unfurls all over your body.

He takes your slight shock as a moment to slide his tongue inside, a sigh of relief escaping your velvety lips. He tastes like beer, and something sweet, kissing you with so much heat that you can't help the way you melt into him, his touch burning everywhere it makes contact with.

He brings you closer, as if that's even possible, bodies pressed against each other, your breasts flush against his hard chest, and you can almost feel his heart hammering inside, rhythm matching yours.

His cherry-pout mouth suckles at your bottom lip, slight stubble brushes against your chin, and fuck, you want him, so much so that you let out a low whine.

You want to continue. Desire runs through your body like wildfire, burning him with you, but once you hear the honks of the busy street, the realization of where the fuck the two of you are hits you, and only then you break the kiss.

Standing outside of a bar, kissing like two horny idiots, a pretty giggle escapes your lips when you meet his dreamy gaze again, his hues resembling mostly black now, both sets of pupils blown wide. Passion radiates from both of you.

"Was that enough to prove to you that I really, really, really like you, sweetheart?" He asks with a pretty grin, lips all puffy and smudged with your gloss, earning more hearty giggles and a nod from you.

"Or do you need to kiss me in front of her? Get all territorial?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, brows raised all teasingly, that smirk returning like it ever left, making you huff.

You elbow him playfully before you fist his shirt, bringing him in much more close proximity, again. "Shut up and kiss me again, Harrington."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fics #steve harrington blurbs #steve harrington drabbles #steve harrington x y/n

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part 2

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

There's commotion from the house, loud enough for Eddie and Robin to hear it outside. Both turn towards the house, Robin halfway to standing up already, and the door is pushed open, El falling through it to get outside.

Someone calls El's name from inside, but she doesn't even turn around. She marches across the lawn to Eddie and Robin. "They are too loud and angry in there. Take me somewhere else."

Joyce makes it out the door next and with a raise of her hand behind her, one finger up, she stops everyone in the doorway. She descends the steps of the porch and Eddie is in awe about how much power she wields because no one follows after. Not even Dustin, who is the absolute worst at following orders.

"Whatever you need," Eddie answers El. He doesn't think she's blinked since exiting the house.

"We can go to Steve's," Robin offers. She's standing now and roots in a pocket of her jeans before pulling out a keychain with three keys on it. "Maybe it'll help being around all his stuff?"

"We can take my van," Eddie offers.

"That would be great," Joyce says, reaching out and grabbing one of El's hands in her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Come on, let's get some shoes on."

"Thank you," El says, shooting Eddie a smile before her eyes drop down to look at Steve. A frown returns to her face before she turns and heads back into the house with Joyce.

Robin turns to Eddie, offering a hand to him. She's probably offering to pull him up, but he holds Steve out to her instead. He doesn't understand why she looks surprised at that, but she takes Steve, cradles him close to herself like he had done earlier.

Eddie climbs into his van, starting it and reaching over to turn the dial on the radio down so it's not blasting at the loud volume he keeps it on. Robin hovers with the passenger door open. "You getting in, Buckley?"

"Yeah, eventually. Just thinking if I should crawl in the back. Let Joyce and El have the seats?"

"Oh. Yeah. Probably."

She's absently petting Steve's hair, eyes slightly misty. He watches as she blinks away the tears before letting out a big sigh. "I just want to pass Steve off to whoever will be wearing a seatbelt. I've seen how you drive, Munson."

Eddie catches the teasing tone in her voice and laughs. "Fair. I'll take corners about 3 miles per hour slower than I normally do."

Robin laughs. "That's probably still ten above the speed limit."

"You should not speed," El's voice makes both Robin and Eddie jump. She's standing just behind Robin, and a quick look around shows Joyce on the porch, a worried look on her face but she makes no move to step off the porch.

"Is your mom coming?" Eddie asks. A complicated set of expressions crosses El's face and he's worried he might have asked the wrong thing somehow but then El answers.

"No. Just me. I will sit in the center," She slides past Robin and crawls up onto the bench seat of Eddie's van, scoots across the seat until she butts up against Eddie, and searches for the seatbelt before securing it.

"Here," Robin holds Steve out to El, who takes him, before Robin pulls herself into the van, shutting the door and buckling herself in.

Eddie doesn't go immediately because he's a bit busy watching El look at Steve. She's holding him like she's not sure how. She wraps one hand around an arm and his waist and uses the other to poke a porcelain cheek, right over the two moles just below his cheek bone. He can see the creases of a frown on her face.

"Are you okay, El?" Robin asks, which is good because he was about to, and he thinks his voice will come out more watery.

"I...," El looks up to Robin, then back down to Steve, "I do not know."

It hits Eddie like a freight truck just how young El is. He has to put the van in gear and drive to give his mind something to focus on or he's going to do something stupid, like bear hug El and ugly cry into her grown out buzzcut.

"Hey, that's okay," Robin says, "it's okay to not know how you're doing. This is a complicated situation."

"I barely know Steve," El says, which surprises Eddie. They all seem close, so much so that Eddie still feels like an intruder at times. Still, there is a tone to her voice that seems off to Eddie. "We do not have a reason to hang out. Not like everyone else. Lucas plays basketball with him. Dustin and Max claim him as their brother. Even Erica-"

El stops talking abruptly. Eddie glances towards her but she's staring down at Steve, so Eddie flicks his eyes to Robin, who is already looking at him and making an 'I don't' know' gesture with her hands before Eddie returns his eyes to the road.

"Mike does not care for Steve much," El continues suddenly, the tone still there and Eddie feels like he knows it, "I spent so much time with Mike that I think I did not care for Steve, either. Not on purpose. But- but in a way that you do not care about a thing because it is not important in your life?"

No one says anything else, because what can they say? Shortly after, Eddie pulls into the driveway of the Harrington residence behind Steve's Bimmer. "Alright ladies. Once more unto the breach!"

They crawl from the van and Robin unlocks the door. El and Eddie step through first. El moves into the house, clutching at Steve like he's her favorite stuffed toy. Robin freezes in the doorway, looks like she's not even breathing.

"Buckley?" Eddie is whispering and he doesn't know why.

"Sorry, sorry," Robin exhales a shaking breath. "It's just- Nancy and I- sorry. Uh, El, do you need us to do anything?"

She glides past Eddie to catch up to El and he is left to close the door. He wonders if, maybe, Robin should have also stayed at the Byers-Hopper home. It had been her and Nancy that had come to check in on Steve just this morning. It wasn't unusual to not hear from Steve sometimes (everyone needed their time to just be alone) but today must have marked Too Many Days for Robin because she'd called Nancy for a ride, and they'd found this. A locked house, Steve's car still here, and resting against the pillows of Steve's bed had been the porcelain replica. Nothing out of place, no ransom notes, nothing to make it seem like nefarious going ons had been taking place. Just the Harrington house, devoid of a flesh and blood Steve Harrington.

Coming back must be surreal.

"Eddie, you okay?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," Eddie startles a little. He'd been lost in his own head for a moment there.

"Can El have your bandana? She needs something to use as a blindfold."

"Yeah," Eddie moves through the house, to the living room where El has sat herself on the floor in front of the TV. Steve is lain in her lap, a mirror of the image Eddie must have made on the front lawn. He pulls the bandana from his pocket, folding it diagonally before offering it out to El.

She takes it, eyes flicking up to Eddie's. She looks sad. "Can you make the TV staticky?"

"On it."

Robin closes all the blinds and curtains, making the house a bit darker and Eddie gets the TV on, white noise filling the room.

They sit in that white noise for what feels like an eternity but when Eddie checks his watch, is actually about 22 minutes, before El suddenly yanks the makeshift blind fold off with a frustrated huff.

"It is not working!" She shouts.

Eddie looks to Robin, but she looks just as lost about all this as Eddie feels. Well. Eddie's always been good with kids. He'll make the attempt. "El, you said earlier you didn't know if you were okay. Maybe figuring that out will help? It can't be easy to get into the right headspace with other thoughts floating around. "

She looks down at Steve, then back to Eddie. Her eyes are wet. "I am scared."

Eddie nods, "me too. This is scary."

"I am scared I will not find him," she says, then drops her voice to a whisper to continue, "but I am more scared that I will."

He really wishes Joyce would have come with. Or Hopper, Jonathan, Will, anyone who actually knows El. He thinks she need a kind of comfort he and Robin cannot provide. "Well, El, what's the part that's really scary?"

She's quiet for a long time. "Steve has never needed saving before. Not by me. What if I can't?"

"Oh El, it's not on you to save him," Robin says, sliding off the couch to be on the floor with them. She must have more information than Eddie about why El would say that, which makes since, because Robin was part of the conversation when they'd decided to have El try and reach out to Steve. "It's not fair that it's only you that can do this, but we didn't ask expecting you to fix it. That's not the pressure we meant to put on you. All we want is a confirmation. And if you can't, that's okay, too. That'll be okay."

El frowns, bottom lip quivering before she reaches down and picks up Steve, shoving him into Eddie's arms before she launches herself at Robin, arms around her neck and burying her face into Robin's neck. Robin looks startled, eyes wide going to Eddie. He pulls Steve to his neck, in an imitation of the position El is in, then hugs him with one arm and uses his other hand to pet at Steve's hair, trying to make meaningful eyes contact with Robin. She gets with the program, hugging El and petting the back of her head.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You want us to call Joyce or Hopper over?" Robin soothes, her body now gently rocking with El in her lap.

There's a muffled, quiet 'no' from El but that's it. She doesn't say anything else, or move, for a couple minutes.

El pulls back finally, away from Robin to sit up straight. "Okay. I am ready again. Please hand me Steve."

He does, belatedly realizing he was still cuddling and petting Steve. Oh. He really hopes that if Steve is the doll, that he doesn't have any sort of touch receptors going on. That'll be embarrassing.

Steve settled in her lap again, blindfold back on, El tries again.

It takes about two minutes before Eddie watches a bit of blood trickle out of her nose. He shoots a worried look to Robin before lifting a hand, intent on reaching out to El, but before he fully extends his arm, Robin stops him with a shake of her head.

Another eternity passes before El gasps and pulls the blindfold off.

"What happened? Did you find him?" Robin asks.

El looks from Robin to Eddie, then down to Steve, then back up to Eddie, a small smile on her face. "Yeah. He wants me to tell you 'thank you, for taking the time to explain because Dustin never does.' He said you would know what he was talking about?"

"Holy shit." He and Robin say it at the same time. Robin scrabbles over the couch, rather than around it, and dashes out of sight. Eddie doesn't think he could make his legs work if he wanted to. Steve can hear them. (Ha Dustin!)

El deposits Steve into Eddie's arms. "It is him. He does not know what happened, either. He can hear and see. He appreciates that you did not let the sun blind him."

"El, you are the most amazing person I've ever met," Eddie says and watches the grin grow on El's face. "Alright. Well, the first step to a solution is knowing and now we know."

Robin pops back into view behind the couch, "everyone is on their way here now. I tried to tell Will we'd go back to them, 'cause y'know, less people and cars to worry about but I guess they want the base of operations to be here. How mad do you think Steve would be if I got copies of my key made for everyone?"

"I can ask him," El offers.

"Nah," Eddie grins, "it's always better to ask forgiveness than permission. And you'll forgive us, won't you, Stevie?"

Steve, of course, does not answer, but it does settle something inside Eddie knowing that he hears the question.

Steve's a doll. They know that for sure. Now, they can find a solution.

#steddie #platonic stobin #my fic #why am i like this guys??? ill get back to my other fics eventually #unfortunately this porcelain doll AU has consumed my little gremlin brain #anyway i LOVE the El&Steve sibling dynamic but i think El should get to have complicated feelings about steve first #porcelain steve

[hairmetal666]

Read Part One here

cw: implied child abuse

Eddie's coming over for coffee. Not Eddie with Nancy and Robin or Eddie with the kids. Just Eddie.

They haven't been alone in 9 years and now Eddie is coming over for coffee.

They're friends, of course. After Vecna they didn't have much of a choice, but they've never talked about it--that they used to be something.

After Steve kissed Eddie goodbye for what turned out to be the last time, they didn't see each other again for months and months, except for a devastatingly fleeting moment in the Family Video parking lot. And the next time after that, Eddie's pinning him to the wall of a rickety boathouse, a broken bottle to his throat.

What's going through his mind, his body, at that moment is relief. For days, weeks, months, he ached for Eddie's touch again, and even though he was in danger, he relished in the push of their bodies together. Thought, if this is how he dies, he won't mind going.

But they don't talk about it, about them, because Eddie is on the run and Max is going to die, and they have to save the world, so there's no time. In the aftermath, it's the least of their worries, and now it's been almost a decade and Eddie is coming over for coffee.

The thing is, it's not like Steve has been pining away for a love long lost in the intervening years, and neither has Eddie. They've both had longterm, serious relationships; Steve almost got married. But for Steve...Eddie is the one that's lingered, the one that knocks around his ribcage on late sleepless nights, the one that makes him dream of what might have been. Because Steve truly loved his other partners, but Eddie--nobody will ever compare.

Someone is knocking a rhythm at his front door, and he can't stifle his smile even as his heart runs riot in his chest.

"Hey, man," he says, remarkably nonchalant as he takes Eddie in. Still beautiful, still brimming with energy; his smile wide and dimpled, bouncing on his toes.

"Harrington!" Eddie grabs him into a quick side hug, slapping his back. "Since when do you wear glasses?"

Steve chuckles, touching the horn-rimmed frames. "Oh, god, Robin forced me to get them back in '87? Too many concussions." He touches his forehead. "I usually just wear contacts."

"It's a good look," Eddie says. He's very much not looking at Steve, eyes roaming around the Chicago apartment he's been to many times before.

He watches as Eddie spots the display of his own books, index finger slowly slipping across the spines in a way that makes Steve remember when those same fingers would slide down his spine. He stifles a shiver, turns towards the kitchen.

"So, how's New York? How's the book coming?"

"Livin' the dream." It's not flippant, not like how most people mean it. Eddie leaks genuineness, always has. "The book though...it's a little rough."

Steve sets the coffee maker going, brings fresh pastries and a couple plates over to the table. "I can imagine. It doesn't--it doesn't have to be the same, you know?"

"Yeah, if only I hadn't written three other books leading up to the evil mind wizard," Eddie chuckles. He grabs a croissant and tears it in half. "It'll be alright, Harrington. I'll figure it out. I lived through it the first time, after all."

Steve doesn't remind him that he almost didn't, that they almost didn't. Instead, he pours coffee, listens as Eddie talks about how to fictionalize the worst month of their collective lives.

He splashes milk into Eddie's coffee, taps in three scoops of sugar. He carries it to where Eddie waits, still talking about the logistics of Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One in his novel, but his words abruptly stop as his hands wrap around the porcelain.

"Steve?"

It's only then that Steve realizes what he's done--made Eddie's coffee like he took it back then, made it without thinking, totally on muscle memory, when the best of his mornings were spent in Eddie's arms.

His cheeks glow crimson and he grips at the back of his neck. "S-sorry." He says. "It--is this still how you take it?"

"Yeah." Eddie's eyes fall from Steve's face, his own cheeks pink. "It's--yeah. Still the same."

"I'm sorry--"

"--Steve, I--"

They don't laugh. They both stop speaking and look at each other, faces still red. Steve thinks there's nothing for it but to get it all out now.

"I'm sorry, Eddie." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never came back. I'm sorry I didn't explain why. I'm just--really, really sorry."

Eddie's eyes are hooked on the table top, fingers twisting and twisting his coffee mug. "Can I--why? I waited and you--why?"

Steve swallows, but it gets stuck in his throat, and now he's the one who can't look up from his hands.

"My parents got home early," he manages. "My dad, he was waiting for me. I guess one of the neighbors thought it best to tell them who I'd been spending my time with."

Silence falls over the table, and he chances a look up at the man across from him, the one whose knuckles bite into his lips, whose eyes shine with unshed tears.

"You should've called me. You should've--you could've stayed with us. We would've kept you safe."

"Eddie, I couldn't. I physically couldn't," the admission costs him so much.

"Steve," Eddie chokes on his name, voice nothing but anguish. "Did anyone--You could've--you were all alone."

He shakes his head. "Robin knew. She snuck through my window to take care of me, but my parents--I couldn't--" This time the words really won't come. "We made a plan. We started that job at Family Video, and we saved up our money."

Now, Eddie's face is creased with grief. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

Steve shakes his head, smiles despite the wreckage around his heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I left you with no explanation. I broke your heart. And--and--" He thinks, what does it hurt to say it at this point. "I love you. I love you so much. I convinced myself you were better off without me, that we could have a clean break and you could get over me."

Eddie's hands cover his face, muffle the sob that slips out. "Get over you?" He whispers. "There's never been one like you, sweetheart."

He slides around the table to kneel at Eddie's side. "Hey." Deep brown eyes stare back at him, Eddie's face wet with tears. "It's always you, Ed. Always. I didn't want to say anything, if you had moved on, but--"

There's not really any transition from them talking to them kissing; Steve slips into it like he did all those years ago, when he first asked for Eddie's kiss. Their mouths slot together, their bodies fit like they always used to, perfect puzzle pieces. Steve's knees give out at the first brush of Eddie's tongue, and they collapse into a heap on the kitchen floor. Even then, they don't part.

Eventually, Steve does break the embrace, face flushed and hair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear. "Okay, trying to be responsible here. Should we take a pause, go on a date first? Slow down?"

"Nine years isn't slow enough?" Eddie's pupils are blown, hair frizzed around his head.

"When you put it that way," Steve can't help but laugh. "I just want to do right by you, Eddie. Make up for--everything."

Eddie grins down at him, that sunshine beam smile where his dimples pop. "Tell you what, how bout you take me to bed now, and I'll let you take me on a date tomorrow?"

"Oh, you'll let me?" Steve rakes a hand through Eddie's mane of hair. "I don't think you'll have any choice."

"You sure about that, Stevie?" Their lips are so close, the brush with every word.

"Uh-huh," Steve's having trouble keeping his eyes focused, overwhelmed by the sheer force of Eddie Munson. "Never letting you go again, Ed."

Surprise! Part 2! I genuinely had no intention on doing a follow-up, but so many of you asked so nicely that it gave me this idea. Sorry if I miss anyone in the tag list and thank you for reading! @everywherenothere @tiny-enthusiast @emma-elsa-0000 @fuzzyduxk @moonythepluviophile @anaibis @rhapsodyinalto @bunk12bear @tillystealeaves @velocitytimes2 @s-trawberryv-eins @marklee-blackmore @ignoremyworld @its-a-me-a-morgan @goodolefashionedloverboi @starman-jpg @djohawke @adaydreamaway08

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #getting back together #mutual pining #fluff #ficlet #part 2 #time jump #a tiny bit of angst #here's the happy ending #implied child abuse #part one was august i guess part two is the one #we were something don't you think so #and if my wishes came true it would've been you #jk eddie is the one #they're in love your honor #steve's parents are pieces of shit

[lavendermunson]

i want you, bless my soul - eddie munson

from the candy cane box at leia's christmas tree farm

summary best friend au, with the prompt “So, um. That was something. Should we do that again?” for the one and only @onegirlmanytales thank you for requesting my love, I hope you like the direction I took and enjoy it so much!!

cw FLUFF. best friends to lovers. two oblivious idiots in love. r's first kiss. brief mention of insecurities. steve and robin cameo!

w.c 1.7k

“No one has ever kissed me… let’s just forget about it!”

You sigh, placing the freshly baked cookies on a beautiful porcelain bowl Eddie gave you last Christmas. Their scent calming every nerve your best friend decides to play with today.  All of your friends are arriving in a couple of minutes for the annual Christmas party.

“You are telling me no one has ever kissed you under the rain?”

“Eddie please, just stop it”

“No one has ever kissed you under the moonlight!”

He tries to guess. You regret telling him about your first kiss. It hasn’t happened yet… but he thinks it has, he just thinks it was bad or embarrassing because you’ve never told him. And you tell him everything, he is your best friend.

“You are never going to guess, I'm tired of this now”

He chases you around your house, as you walk with the bowl of cookies in your hands. You place them on the coffee table of your living room, alongside all the other snacks and drinks to enjoy the night. 

“I know! no one has ever kissed you under the mistletoe. That’s why you don’t have one” 

Eddie thinks he hit the jackpot, smiling brightly at you. 

“No one has ever kissed me, okay!” you snap, tired of his games. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet” 

You throw your hands in the air, standing in front of him. Eddie was the only one who didn’t know about this. The rest of your friends know, because you know they weren’t going to laugh or make fun of you. But Eddie is capable of it, not because he is mean. His personality is just like that, he is the joke expert and the prank master. This was a serious topic to you, something that kept toying with your self-esteem.

Your arms fall to the side, your hands close on a fist, white knuckles and eyes shut trying to hide the embarrassment that’s eating you alive as you wait for Eddie to laugh at you and make a hundred jokes about this. 

You wish the floor could swallow you whole.

Eddie notices the way you tense up, confessing the secret you’ve held for a long time. He thought there was some catch to it, but there wasn’t. Who the fuck can live without ever kissing your lips? he asks himself, when he has been dreaming about it since the first time he met you at the arcade. 

You were babysitting the kids, holding their quarters for them as you paced around the sticky carpet. Back when Eddie’s ears got used to quieting down everything around him except your sweet voice. 

He didn’t want to lose you, he could never. And he was sure he wasn’t your type, with your room having a Karate Kid poster and a picture of Michael Schoeffling ripped out of a magazine.

Missing the picture of Eddie Van Halen on your jewelry box, he knew your type was far away from him. 

You were never going to like him, his friends would tease him about it. They would fill Eddie’s mind with ideas that tormented him before going to bed. You are way too out of his league.

He is happy with the best friend title because he gets the best friend treatment. He gets to hug you when you see him, cuddle with you on movie nights, and hang around his trailer all day. He would never trade your presence for anything, not a metal concert, not even the fame some rockstars get overnight.

For Eddie you are everything, you mean everything. His life is so much better with you around.

But he doesn’t laugh or start making a full comedy show, instead, you hear the thump of things falling out of his pockets. His lighter, a pack of cigarettes, previously chewed gum wrapped in a piece of paper, and his van keys. He empties his pockets trying to find what he has been looking for and when he finds it, he goes around your house looking for tape.

“What are you doing with that? no one is coming here to kiss me, only our friends” 

“Well? m’lady. I doubt you want to spend another Christmas unkissed” He takes your hand, guiding you closer to him until you are both under the mistletoe. “This is how it works, you stand here, and as the rule says you kiss the person in front of you”

You watch as Eddie taps the branch with his finger. Pointing at it, then at him, and finally at you. You are exactly in the spot, you look at him. Begging him to kiss you.

You've thought about it for a while. What would it be like to kiss him? Not someone random, not a guy who coats your ears with sugar at work. Just Eddie.

The guy who sits on the edge of his bed, shirtless, and while his fingers are gentle with the strings of his guitar you can’t do anything else but admire. Trying to memorize all of his features and tattoo that scene on your head for the rest of your life.

The guy who asked you to color his tattoos, trusting your artistic eye and trying to kill time before the pizza got to his trailer. You asked for a rain check that night, knowing you’d lose your mind the second your fingers touched his bare chest.

“And who’s gonna kiss me?” you ask. 

“Uhh, Jonathan?” Eddie asks, raising one of his eyebrows. Trying to question you to see who your type is.

“I pass” 

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice cracks. If you passed at Jonathan, there’s a high chance you could say yes to Steve and he would fall to his knees, defeated. 

“I don’t think so” 

His brown eyes are wide open. Shit. Not even Steve?

“Let’s just enjoy our evening…” Unless you want to kiss me, you think.  “Let’s forget about it”

You try to escape from the compromised positions, but your legs feel heavy as you step aside. You thought Eddie was going to kiss you. 

When you try to escape, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you back to him.

“Wait”

You feel a jolt of electricity, his touch being hard on you yet not hurting. His eyes looking for yours and when you finally lock your gaze with his. He takes a deep breath, ready to risk it all.

Eddie pulls you to his chest, resting a hand on the small of your back. You feel the goosebumps all over your body, his breath tingling your lips. He notices the shine in your eyes, pleading for him to do something because you are too nervous to move.

If he wanted to kiss you, he would kiss you. That’s what you believe. 

He looks at your eyes, at your lips. Impatient, he is making you melt under his touch, and you feel your insides are screaming at him to do something. You decide to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of him slipping through your fingers and regretting this moment.

You capture him. As he looks down at you like a starved man. 

Eddie’s mind is clouded with hundreds of thoughts. This could be so good, this could get bad and ugly. It’s your first kiss, it should be special. It should be with someone you like, Do you like him? Do you want him?

He snaps back to reality when you reach for a strand of hair that fell to his face. Tugging the curl in the back of his ear. Your fingers send shivers through his spine, feeling your gentle touch against his skin. He melts under your touch too.

“Let’s get this over with” he breathes out, digging his fingertips on the small of your back to keep you close. His lips press against yours, you close your eyes enjoying the moment. 

But it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what to do, but just as you start to panic Eddie cups your cheeks, his thumb pressing against your warm skin. 

“Relax” he whispers on your lips, taking control of the situation. You feel his lips crash with yours, dancing against them as you try to keep up with the pace.

Is this how it feels? To kiss someone for the first time, or even better, to kiss the boy you love for the first time. Your mind is in the clouds, every part of your body feels lighter as a feather.

His lips are so soft. What the actual fuck? How were you able to survive so long without this?

It’s your first kiss. But it feels like it’s Eddie’s too. He can feel his body fill up with electricity, his heart thumping against his chest – just like yours – He has kissed girls before, even boys. But this feeling is new, he is finally kissing someone he loves.

“WOAH! They are kissing” You break away from the kiss as you hear Robin’s voice. She looks at you then at Eddie, a smile showing off on her face. “Sorry, keep doing that!” 

“Good job, guys!” Steve says, pushing Robin to the kitchen as she keeps her thumbs up in the air.

Eddie shakes his head, looking down at you. Seeing that smile he loves so much as you giggle, with your body so close to his. You try to catch the air he knocked out of your lungs, keeping him pressed against you.

“Woah indeed” His eyes look at the mistletoe, at your puffy pink lips, and at your flushed cheeks. He grins proudly. 

“That was… something” you smile, scrunching up your nose as you look at his matching pink lips and cheeks.

“Should we do it again?” he asks, his chest heaving up and down. 

“Please” you whisper, feeling your body yearning for more of him.

“Anything you want, princess”

He kisses you again, this time he quickens the pace of it. You feel his tongue brush against yours causing you to whimper. He giggles at your reaction, groaning for more of you. Eddie is addicted to your taste already. If the smell of your chapstick made him crazy, this sure is going to kill him.

You start to move your tongue, feeling the closure as your teeth crash with his, and the mix of chapstick and saliva, with a touch of cigarette coats your bottom lip. You can’t get enough of the feeling of his lips keeping yours warm and nice.

“Fuck, you taste good” his shaky words come out as he takes a breather, inches from your lips. His teeth find your bottom lip, nipping at it as you open your mouth for him once again.

You won't be spending Christmas unkissed.

reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, your support means so much to me  🎄

#leia writes ⊹ #leia’s christmas tree farm #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader ants #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson au #eddie munson fluff #st x reader #st x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #eddie Munson x reader angst #eddie munson angst #best friends to lovers

[thefreakandthehair]

@steddie-week, day 3: discover.

When Steve is five years old, his mom catches him sneaking cookies before dinner. 

The jar is set up on top of the refrigerator, porcelain white in the shape of a teddy bear, and Steve isn’t supposed to be able to reach it. Unfortunately for the Harrington’s, their son is athletic and agile even as a child so of course, he discovers that if he slides a chair over to the counter, he can climb onto the beige laminate and reach the jar on his tippy toes. The head of the bear is removed easily, a cookie (or two) are snatched, and no one is the wiser. His devious heist comes to a halt one night after tee-ball practice when he thinks that his mom is in the shower. Steve ends up being caught with his hand literally in the cookie jar. 

It’s a story his mom tells at dinner parties and family gatherings throughout his childhood, over and over with the same details. Steve hears it enough to visualize what his face must’ve looked like— wide eyes, mouth ajar, eyebrows nearly touching his hairline, cheeks and ears turning pink. 

A few months into (finally) dating Eddie Munson, Steve finds his boyfriend standing in the living room mere feet from where Steve had tried to steal those cookies years ago wearing what he imagines is the exact same expression.

There’s no teddy bear-shaped cookie jar, but Eddie certainly looks caught: caught in a moment of jock euphoria, that is. 

When Steve gets home from his trip to Chicago with Robin a day early, he decides to surprise Eddie rather than call ahead and it may be the best decision he’s made in quite some time because Steve recognizes this sight intimately. 

Eddie’s in the middle of the room, bobbing around in front of the television with his hands threading through his hair and tugging in frustration as he yells things like:

“Are your blades dipped in fucking butter?”  “The puck goes in the net!”  "You can't shoot for shit, just like you can't grow a decent mustache, huh?" “Your job is to use your big ass body to stop the teensy tiny puck from getting around you and that’s a Hell of a lot easier if you stay in the fucking crease!” 

He stands in the doorway in shocked silence, watching in bemused wonder. Even in his crouched position, even as he scuttles from side to side with a phantom hockey stick in his hands with the only light in the room coming from the television screen, he's beautiful.

How long has this been going on though? In the years of friendship that eventually led to their relationship, Steve’s never known Eddie to give a single shit about any sort of organized sport that didn’t involve Steve specifically running around in what Eddie calls his "utterly obscene shorts." 

Hockey’s never been mentioned, not once, but Eddie knows too much to have randomly picked it up in just the two days Steve’s been gone. A ripple of something that feels like guilt washes over him, unsure of what he’s done to make Eddie feel like he needs to hide this from him. 

Long moments pass and Steve continues to go unnoticed when the game rolls into overtime. 

“I can’t take much more of this, Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie moans, his hands falling to his knees as he hunches over. 

Commentators flash up on the screen and Steve supposes intermission is as good a time as any to interject. 

“Would some company help?” 

Eddie whips to the right and there it is: wide eyes, mouth ajar, raised eyebrows, flaring nostrils, and the tell-tale darkening of Eddie’s cheeks. Steve only assumes his ears follow suit— they usually do when he’s flustered but Eddie’s hair blocks the view. His hand flies to his chest, startled on top of it all. 

The Bruins are going into overtime and his deepest, darkest secret was just unceremoniously discovered. 

It’s been a rough day. 

Steve just smiles and crosses the threshold into the room, standing next to his boyfriend who looks like all of the air has been vacuumed from his lungs. 

“You— you weren’t supposed to be home yet! You scared the shit of me, man!” 

“I was trying to surprise you but uh, joke’s on me I guess. Hockey, huh?” Steve gestures at the television with his chin. “Makes sense. It’s fuckin' lawless.” 

Eddie’s features settle into something less abashed and more defensive, his eyebrows knitting together and his head tilting to one side just a hair. 

“What makes sense? There was just nothing else on. It’s not a crime to flip through the channels, Steve.”

His lies are weak, and even under the best circumstances, the bar for Eddie’s ability to lie is on the floor so that's saying a lot. 

“It’s not, no. If it was, you’d probably be doing it,” he teases, nudging their shoulders together. “Besides, you wouldn’t know what the fuck a crease is if you were just casually flipping through.” 

“Wait, wait, shit. How long were you standing there?” 

“Long enough to find out you’ve been holding out on me, Munson.” Steve twists to face Eddie, pointing at the television. “We could’ve been going to games, screaming insults, calling plays together this whole time!”

Eddie groans, titling his head back to look at the ceiling. It’s been a long, long couple of days because even now, Steve can’t stop from staring at the expanse of Eddie’s throat, knowing exactly which spots make him groan for entirely different reasons. 

“Okay, fine. You caught me,” Eddie admits, still staring at the ceiling but turning his body away from Steve and waving his arms in defeat. “I’m a fraud. A hypocrite. I enjoy a sport. You cannot imagine how much it pains me to say this out loud.” 

“Ah, so we’re doing the dramatic thing about this?” Steve mutters, shaking his head. “Eddie, you’re allowed to like things. You know that, right? You liking a sport doesn’t, I don’t know, make you any less metal or whatever. Least I don’t think so.” 

Eddie drops his arms and spins around. “Steve, Stevie, my dear sweet sunshine, I’m not sure if you remember this but I’ve made quite a name and reputation for myself in abject hatred of mainstream… everything. My credibility is destroyed.”

Steve barely chokes back his laughter. Eddie’s sounding and acting more like his Eddie, something equally as endearing as it is ridiculous. He reaches out and pulls Eddie to sit next to him on the couch, not missing the way Eddie glances at the screen to make sure he’s not missing the start of overtime. 

“You know,” Steve starts before making air quotes, “a wise brat once told me that when you finish high school, it’s time to move on from primitive concepts like popularity. Or something like that, it was a while ago. Point is, what you staked your claim to in high school doesn’t apply here. You can be weird, and loud, and anti-mainstream, and like hockey. It’s the most violent of popular sports anyways.” 

Eddie blinks at him once, then twice, before narrowing his eyes and drawing his lips into a tight smile. “Was the wise brat Henderson? That sounds like Henderson.”

Steve laughs and leans back against the couch. “Sure was. Don’t tell him I quoted him, he’ll never shut the fuck up about it.” 

“What brought on a lecture about primitive high school concepts from Dustin Henderson?” 

“He was trying to convince me to date Robin when we were spying on what turned out to be evil Russians at Starcourt who had a lab under the mall. It was a whole thing.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly.

Eddie nods slowly. “Right, yeah, the mall that exploded?” 

“Yep. Same one.” 

“Y’know, I should’ve known you had something to do with that.” Eddie smiles at him, wide and bright, and it’s a strange moment for Steve to realize he’s in love. 

He’s wholly, unconditionally, disgustingly in love with Eddie Munson, with every side and facet, with every sparkling edge of the multifaceted prism of him. Steve’s entire body sighs with relief as his heart finally, finally catches up with the rest of him. 

But there’s an overtime period about to start, and unlike this playoff game, Steve knows he has all the time he could ever need to tell him, show him, exactly how he feels. He starts by cheering for a team he knows shit about, and then by rubbing Eddie’s back when he curls over onto his knees after the Devils score the winning shot.

“Hate to break it to ya, Ed, this is very jock behavior. Think there might be a little jock in you after all.” He jokes, running his hand from the middle of Eddie’s back to the nape of his neck, circling his thumb gently into the flesh there. 

“No the fuck there isn’t,” he mumbles, sitting up straight and turning devilish smile on Steve. “But I’d like there to be.” 

a very, very happy birthday to @hexiewrites! you know that I couldn't let your birthday pass without writing Eddie as a Bruins fan. and I peppered in some of our and @maxineholtzmann's comments and insults from the playoffs liveblogging on discord. <3 hope you have a phenomenal day!!

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steddieweek2023 #myfic #myblurbs

[libraryofgage]

Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Two

Part One

Have I already posted something today? Yes, yes I have but also I finally got through my block on this one hfjdks

I'll be working on Addams Family Steddie next but idk when that part might be coming out lol

anyway, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

Steve has taken over Eddie's large porcelain bathtub after it was moved to the main room of the captain's cabin. Steve is lounging in it now, a week into being on Eddie's ship, with his tail draped over the edge so he can submerge his head and breathe through his gills. It's infinitely more comfortable, even with the seaweed still wrapped along the length of his tail and reminding him of its presence with every twitch.

He sighs, bubbles rising from his gills in the "I'm beyond bored" pattern that Robin would light up at seeing. But she's not here, so Steve is left to once again turn Eddie's bat ring over in his hands, fingers brushing along the wings.

Eddie had shown him a drawing of an actual bat, and Steve still thinks they're freaks of nature. But he finds the ring itself a little endearing if only because it was Eddie's ring willingly given.

He smiles softly, the gesture only dampened by the sharp jab of worry over his guppies and Robin. They're probably losing their scales with worry themselves, scouring the sea and putting themselves at risk of being seen in their hunt for him. Steve can't even fault them, either; he would do the exact same thing if Robin or any of his guppies had been captured like that. He has done the exact same thing.

Steve sighs again, this time the bubble pattern expressing exhaustion and "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He kind of misses having someone who actually understands what his bubble patterns mean, but he knows it wouldn't be fair to get frustrated with anyone for their inability to gain meaning from bubbles floating toward the surface.

He thinks, maybe, the worst part is being confined to the tub. Sure, it's infinitely better than the fucking bucket from the other ship, but Steve is still getting restless. He's like a guppy that's watching its siblings swim but still doesn't have the tail strength to swim itself. He feels trapped and has way too much energy with nowhere to spend it.

Steve hasn't mentioned this to Eddie, though. He'd been planning to, of course. In fact, he intended to tell Eddie that morning, but then they'd docked at some port city and Eddie had run off with the promise of being back soon. Steve had tried not to feel a little abandoned, left by himself with fucking nothing to do while Eddie prances around on land.

Before he can get too far into this line of thought (he's about three minutes from convincing himself that, really, Eddie shouldn't have left and could probably be taught the basics of bubble patterns as punishment), Eddie practically barrels into the room, vibrating with something Steve only recognizes as excitement when he sees Eddie's grin.

Steve surfaces, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning on the edge of the tub, twitching his tail slightly and exercising incredible control to keep from preening when Eddie's gaze lingers on it. "What happened?" he asks, slipping the bat ring onto his thumb, the only finger it fits.

Eddie drops to his knees, scooting closer to the tub until their noses are almost brushing. "I've got a surprise for you, sweetheart," he says, voice light and eager.

"Where is it?" Steve asks, returning Eddie's smile.

"It's on the deck! Do you trust me?"

For a brief moment, Steve thinks Eddie is about to throw him back into the ocean. Which, like, wouldn't be a bad thing, but Steve would be incredibly offended by the suddenness and wonder if he'd been imagining the draw between them.

But he's sure Eddie wouldn't do something like that without asking first, so he tucks it away as something only slightly possible. Steve nods and pulls back, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub before pushing himself up. He perches on the edge, his balance a little unsteady as he looks at Eddie.

Thankfully, Eddie catches on quickly. He scrambles to his feet and scoops Steve off the edge of the tub, one arm under his tail and the other wrapped around Steve's back. Steve holds onto Eddie's neck, still a little paranoid about being dropped despite Eddie's prior insistence that he wouldn't let anything happen to Steve.

"I think you're gonna love it," Eddie says, his voice soft and his breath warm against Steve's cheek.

Steve gets the urge to ask again, but he holds back as Eddie carries him up to the deck. The sky is covered in clouds, keeping the sun from blinding him when they emerge from the stairs. The deck is concerningly large for such a small crew, and Gareth is currently lounging against the mast, a hat pulled low over his eyes as he sleeps.

He's not very attention-grabbing, though. Not when there's a large...contraption in the middle of the deck. It has four wheels and is shaped like a boat, big enough for Steve to sit comfortably without his tail draping over the edge. There are cranks of some kind on the inside of the boat, and Steve realizes it's filled with water as Eddie carries him closer.

"What is this?" Steve asks, trying not to grimace at the discomfort of his scales beginning to dry out. They're starting to feel tight and itchy, a sensation he really hates, like they're going to split apart at any second.

Eddie grins wider and carefully sets Steve into the water, making sure he doesn't bump the tail or the seaweed wraps. He points at the crank to Steve's left and says, "That will make the back wheels turn. If you crank forward, you'll go forward, and back will make you go backward." He then points to the other crank by Steve's right. "This one controls the front wheels. Forward will make them turn left, and backward will make them turn right. You should be able to move around the deck with this."

Steve stares at the cranks for a moment before glancing up at Eddie. When he receives an encouraging nod in response, he slowly turns the left crank forward, lighting up when the boat does, in fact, move forward a few inches.

He's so overwhelmed with joy that he can't help the notes bubbling in his throat, rising and rising until he can't hold them back anymore. Steve doesn't even think before singing, a wordless tune that conveys just how truly happy he is, one that would leave Robin flabbergasted because she's never heard this tune before.

Because this tune is for courting gifts. Like, really fucking fantastic courting gifts. The kind of gifts that blow everything else clear out of the water and leave a merperson dazed and bubbly and floating without any direction from sheer happiness, bubbles bursting through their gills in joyous patterns.

Steve has never sung this tune before, but he's not at all surprised that Eddie is the person who managed to coax it out of him.

-----

Eddie knew the boat would be a good idea, but now he's thinking it was the best idea he's ever had and ever will. Even after hours have passed, after Steve has watched the sun drop below the water and asked Eddie to carry him back to the cabin, complaining about his arms being sore from turning cranks, Eddie is still reeling.

He's never heard a more beautiful sound. Eddie keeps replaying the tune Steve sang in his head, frustrated with his inability to recreate it just right and too flustered to ask Steve to sing it again. Because he gets the feeling it was special, something that Steve can't just do at the drop of a hat, but something he did because of Eddie.

Eddie twists his fingers in the sheet covering him, turning his head to glance at the tub where Steve is leaning against the edge. His eyes are closed, but Eddie knows he isn't sleeping yet. Steve submerges his head when he sleeps.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie whispers, almost like he doesn't want Steve to hear so the comfortable silence continues.

Steve hears him anyway, of course, the flare of fin along the edge of his ear twitching slightly. He tilts his head a bit more, squishing his cheek against his arm, and somewhat lazily says, "Yeah, Eddie?"

Eddie turns onto his side, meeting Steve's gaze. "How'd you become a caretaker?" he asks. It's not the question he actually wants to ask; he wants to ask Steve to sing again, to let him drift to sleep to beautiful notes and lingering melodies.

He watches as Steve tenses slightly before forcing himself to relax. He takes a deep breath, his gills fluttering slightly before slowly exhaling. "A while ago, my pod had an...altercation with a pod from the southern seas. They kidnapped one of the guppies, Will, and the other guppies decided to rescue him. They snuck off one night and I followed them when I discovered what happened and..."

Steve trails off, frowning as he tilts his head to look at the small window, staring at the moon through the glass. "Well, long story short, there were lots of fights, our pod lost its previous caretaker, and we gained a new guppy the southern pod had captured. After everything, I couldn't let the guppies out of my sight, and they kept coming to me and Robin whenever they had problems. So, eventually, I just convinced Robin to be my partner and raise the guppies."

There's a lot going unsaid in that explanation, but Eddie knows better than to pry right now. Steve will tell him when he wants, and if he never wants to, that's fine, too. Eddie won't fault him for that. "Did you have a job before that?" he asks.

Steve hums softly, still beautiful and soft, but not at all the melody Eddie really wants to hear. "I used to scout for the pod," he says, "I would swim ahead and make sure an area was safe or find spots to rest when the pod traveled. When we stopped for long periods, I'd help gather food for the pod."

"You like caring for the guppies more," Eddie says, and it's not at all a question.

"Yeah," Steve replies, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "The guppies are great."

"Tell me about them."

"Well, first is Dustin. He's a little sea urchin, always talking back and getting into trouble, but he's sweet. Will is usually pretty quiet, but he's got a great imagination. Mike always hangs around Will, and he's kind of a squid, but he's going through an awkward growth phase. Lucas is the most active of them, and he likes to shadow the scouters when he can. Erica is his little sister, and she doesn't let the others get away with anything. Max is daring and brash, she tends to dive head-first into stuff, but she's also really protective. El is quiet like Will, but she's really smart and really caring. They're such a handful. Robin and I never have a dull day."

His voice is trailing off toward the end, and Eddie knows he's just moments from falling asleep. "I'd like to meet them someday," Eddie says, his voice softer than before, the words spoken more to himself than Steve.

Of course, that doesn't stop Steve from hearing him anyway. He hums again, this one quieter, and groggily mumbles, "Of course you will, Eddie. That's part of the courting."

And then, like he hasn't essentially rocked Eddie's entire world, Steve slips down in the tub. He submerges his head in the water, and Eddie can hear the quiet murmur of bubbles rising to the surface and popping as Steve breathes.

Eddie stays frozen for a few minutes, staring at the tub, and suddenly wondering if, maybe, somebody somewhere happened to write a merperson courtship manual.

Tag List (there's still room, so let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7

@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense

#steddie #steddie fic #high seas steddie #merman steve harrington #pirate eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic #steddie fluff #my writing

[puppy-steve]

i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)

the bachelor au where steve's the bachelor and eddie is a contestant, but not because he actually wants to be, he's just in it for the paycheck. robin is also a contestant but only because her parents sent in her application without her knowing and she isn't out to them yet.

they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.

until they both start going on dates with him and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.

only robin doesn't want to date him. he's slowly moving his way up the ranks to becoming her best friend, sure, but this is still tv. she's still expected to kiss him and confess her feelings for him. and when the time comes for her to do that, she can't.

they're in venice. steve is leaning in and robin is very aware of the cameras filming them. the back of her neck goes cold and her stomach churns and suddenly she's running in the opposite direction. her italian is passable so she ends up getting a taxi back to the hotel production put them in.

she locks herself in her en suite and presses her forehead against the cold porcelain. she doesn't know how long she sits there until her phone buzzes and she checks the notification. the nausea rises up her throat again. she forgot she gave steve her number.

there's a knock on her room door and another text.

r u ok? can i come in?

robin debates it but figures she owes him and explanation. she lets him in and they sit on the bathroom floor. robin tells him why she's on the show in the first place, about how she didn't know her parents signed her up until she got the phone call from the casting director. tells him that even if she gets kicked off, she can still use the money for her student loans.

she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.

steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."

and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.

steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.

robin would like that.

she apologizes to the production crew the next day and they're understanding and steve and robin get a re-do of their date. it's much more genuine this time, filled with laughs and digs as they eat gelato along the river and people watch and gossip.

it's the best robin's ever been on.

eddie, on the other hand. he's absolutely head over heels for steve, which is surprising even for him. he's trailer park trash, he's got absolutely nothing on steve harrington. not the name, not the money.

hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.

eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.

he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."

eddie's flabbergasted.

steve opens up about all the fake people in his life, the ones who just take advantage of them and use him for their own gains. the ones who don't even bother to get to know the real him. the one that likes to play guitar and hang out with the gaggle of teenagers that follow him around all the time for some unknown reason.

he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.

this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.

the show has a deadline, of course, and steve can't just spend all his time with eddie and robin. there are other contestants. robin knows her rose is strictly platonic and steve has already called her multiple times freaking out about his growing crush on eddie. she knows eddie has this in the bag.

the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.

when steve chooses eddie after a moment of dramatic silence that kind of puts his own dm dramatics to shame, eddie doesn't hesitate to jump in steve's arms, wrap his legs around his waist, and plant a sloppy one on him right in front of the cameras.

#cj talks #something something steve goes on a tv show to find romance and ends up finding his romantic and platonic soulmates #steddie #steddie fic #cj writes #i liked being your schmuck #platonic stobin #the three muskequeers