#steve got to focus on art

[quinnhayden]

long time listener first time caller but I would love to hear how the trio handled COVID after living through the outcome of the last pandemic in the 20s.

The Spanish Flu hit hard in 1918 and 1919. It lingered a little bit in 1920, but my research says it wasn't much of an impact. So, Bucky was born in March 1917, Steve in July 1918, and Quinn in November 1920. (I did find out that there was a serious problem with pregnant women catching this Influenza variant and their children were born with a lot of health issues so who has a new headcanon that Sarah Rogers was a survivor of the flu!)

With that said, the trio's parents all remember. This was around the time that Quinn's pa, Benny, was just getting to Kentucky and he remembers the chaos. Gravediggers were getting sick and dying so fast that the military had to bury bodies. Cars and horse-drawn carts were just heaped with bodies. That's only in Kentucky. There's no imagining what New York was like during this time.

That said, you best believe that Quinn (a doctor) and Steve (a chronically ill man who lived during a time when people were hot for eugenics) were put under house arrest by Bucky because they wanted to have "words" with anti-vaxxers and anti-maskers.

#taylor answers magical people #bucky was raging too but he didn't want to deal with having to constantly bail them out of jail #they did pick up a lot of hobbies during lockdown tho #steve got to focus on art #quinn started a twitch channel #bucky learned to cook and bake and they all gained a lot of weight

[inklessletter]

"It's you, you know? It's not the sea, it's not the sun. It's you. You are my favourite part of the summer. It has always been you."

🏖️

Even if if took me DAYS, I'm thrilled to say that I finally finished it. Thank you so much for trusting the process yet again with me, for being such patients sweet lovely little things.

Thank you so, so much.

#inklessletter #trust the process #fanart #steve harrington #steddie #digital art #steve art #art #artist on tumblr #stranger things #eddie munson #steve fanart #yes #the sun is just coming up and they have spent the night at the beach #they should be tired #but the only thing eddie is able to focus is the peaceful aura of steve #who just got nurtured out of everything good in the world #who is so full with love and passion that it leaks through his smile #He just took his disposable camara and took a picture of him #trapping not only time but also the happiness and the memories in just one piece of paper that will go with him everywhere and for ever #this beautiful summer boy #this child of the sun that will live for ever like this in that photograph

[edenavari]

On the Matter of Mirrors

Eddie is still trying to convince Steve he and Nancy are made for each other. It comes up, like, everytime they hang out, which is all the time, because Steve couldn’t stay away if he wanted to. He doesn’t, but he also wishes Eddie would quit trying to set him up with someone else. 

‘Cause, like, here’s the thing. Steve likes girls. He also, he realized sometime after Robin came out to him, quite likes boys. He likes Eddie. Like… Really likes him. Practices pick-up lines in front of the mirror kind of like. Wears a little more black and tousles his hair just right to give himself a subversive edge he never used to have, just the right amount to trigger a subconscious response without appearing to be tweaking his fashion sense at all. Has mastered the art of wearing eyeliner without looking like he’s wearing it, and it took him a fucking while to work up the nerve to go out like that, not that anyone but Robin noticed. 

But Eddie just will not drop the Nancy case, no matter how many times Steve tries to stir the conversation away from her, and between his budding crush and the crushing fear that it’s never gonna be anything but one-sided, between the slightest of sore spots Steve still sports about the way things with Nancy ended in the first place and the bitter edge of never managing for something to start with Eddie after weeks of efforts, it’s beginning to grate, right? 

“So what’s the problem?” Eddie insists, bounding circles around Steve like an eager puppy, and something in Steve’s ribcage snaps. 

They’re in Steve’s room studying when it comes up once a-fucking-gain. Eddie is taking accelerated summer classes so he can finally graduate by September, and by some inexplicable fuckery of fate, despite Steve’s own dirt poor records, he’s turning out to be a decent tutor. Something about Eddie managing to focus in a way a classroom environment never allowed him to. Maybe because most teachers and over half the student body were openly hostile at worst and aggressively ignoring Eddie at best, all because of his last name or his tattoos or his loud brassy cheek.

All the same, Eddie does get distracted fairly easily, and an hour in, he’s bounced off the bed and started rattling reasons Nancy Wheeler is definitely Steve Harrington’s soulmate. Steve groans noncommittally, gets up to grab his water from the desk and takes a long swallow as Eddie keeps needling him. 

“You’re the problem, Eddie,” he all but snarls, when he really meant it to come out exasperated at worst.

He snarls, though, and Eddie stiffens, his eyes going cold and hurt and the corner of his mouth turned down in anger. 

“Right,” he says, and it sounds so casual Steve thinks he won’t make a big deal of his tone after all. Fool’s hope. “I’ll get out of your perfect hair, then,” Eddie spits out as he makes for the door, only Steve stands in his way, hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he starts. 

“No, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” Eddie interrupts, but he steps back, gesturing wildly as he speaks. “It’s not like we’re even friends, you just got saddled with me because of Dustin. We saved the world together? Big deal! My involvement was incidental, really, more of an inconvenience than any kind of help. Why would you want my opinion, of all people’s, right? Even by this point. Get out of my way, I’ll quit stepping on your toes. Go on!”

“I don’t want you to go, Eddie,” Steve tries again. 

“Just want me to shut up, is that it? Not really my strong suit, you might have noticed.”

Steve can’t help smiling. “I have noticed.”

It only seems to rile Eddie up even more, throwing his hands out and making to step around Steve again. “Man, what do you want from me?”

“Is this allowed?” he breathes out, extending the last word beyond its scope. 

Which puts him within reaching distance of Steve, who grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and presses him, careful not to jostle him too bad but firm enough to counter his manic strength, against the wall. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just presses a touch too close, lets himself imagine that he’s going to close the distance entirely, cocks his head and licks his lips and hangs there in a way he hopes spells it out for Eddie without inducing any kind of panic. 

Eddie, hands still up at shoulder height, lets out a little huff close to a whimper when his back hits the wall, bracing himself for a hit that would never come, and maybe some part of him knows this, because he doesn’t look scared or angry anymore, just kind of confused with a side of grief, and it doesn’t take two seconds for him to start to look intrigued, maybe even, if Steve allows himself a little optimism, interested. 

His lips part on a sharp inhale, and they’re close enough to smell each other’s skin, and Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s mouth, a little watery and out of focus, edging forward in a way that could just be a twitch, just a consequence of holding his breath the way he is, plausibly deniable, subconscious no doubt, only when Steve mirrors the movement, he does it again, gaze moving up and down from Steve’s eyes to his lips and back and back again without blinking, until twitch by twitch their noses graze and their mouths connect and Steve closes his eyes and concentrates on maintaining that seal over Eddie’s plush, pliable pout, because if he didn’t focus, he’d be way, way overeager for a first kiss. 

He moves back after several seconds with a shaky exhale, swallows as he finds Eddie’s eyes again. His blood is thrumming in his fingertips, somehow he feels both cold between his shoulder blades and warm down to his toes, and if Eddie looks at all put out he thinks he might never manage another mirror in his life. 

The look on Eddie’s face is pure disbelief. 

Steve shrugs, not quite settled on the matter of mirrors. “I thought you made a point of breaking the rules?”

A glint starts to wake in Eddie’s eye that’s looking more delighted by the minute. 

“Just as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“We’re in the clear, then,” Steve whispers, leaning in, just a smidge. 

Both of Eddie’s hands sink into his hair as he pulls him into another, much steamier, kiss. Steve lets his fists fall from Eddie’s lapels and knot over his back instead, lets his mouth drop slightly open, an invitation Eddie wastes not a second to follow through on, teeth scraping and back arching like he wants to sink all the way into Steve, and by the time they’re parting, breathless, cheeks flushed, mouths stinging, Steve’s one hand is braced against the wall, holding himself up, knees too weak to do the job on their own. 

“I thought you could barely stand me,” Eddie heaves.

“I can’t,” Steve admits. “You drive me nuts. Just not how you thought.”

Eddie frowns, suddenly serious. 

“You should forget all about Nancy.”

Steve frowns too. “That so?”

“Hm-mm. She’s taken, man. And not all that. You need to move on.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “Am I being desperate?”

“Pathetic,” Eddie nods, barely a whisper against Steve’s lips, and they break into smiles in tandem. “Forget all about her,” Eddie repeats. 

“Who?” Is the last word Steve gets out. Then he’s busy enough he really does forget. 

When he fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror in the morning, he walks away with a wink.

Give us a kudos, if ye dare x

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie oneshot #first kiss

[marriedtobigfoot]

A lot of people love to talk about teacher!Steve and I've seen people speculate about him teaching History, or English or Gym. But hear me out...Art Teacher.

Steve Harrington, who took art as an elective in highschool thinking it would be an easy grade, but who ends up actually really enjoying it. He likes the satisfaction of making something and the methodical process of doing it. Later in life he knows he wants to work with kids, but he doesn't think he would be happy trying to teach any of the core subjects like math or English, he never cared for them much himself, and even the classes he liked he wasn't super skilled in. Then he thinks back to that art class, remembers how much he enjoyed himself, and he finds himself taking classes towards a teaching degree a few months later.

After a while, Steve finds himself with a job teaching art at a local middle school. He loves it. He loves working with the kids, even though most of them are little assholes. Apparently, that isn't unique to the party. All young kids are kind of assholes. But they're also funny, and they put thought into the projects he gives them. He always gives them a lot of wiggle-room creatively, giving assignments that focus on certain techniques like painting or working with clay, but allowing them to choose the subject matter themselves. He works alongside them, making his own little projects. He isn't VanGogh by any means, but he kind of likes that. It helps show his students that they can have fun with the art and really make something they can be proud of without worrying about it being perfect or looking like something they would see in a museum. His students adore him. They tease him and make fun of him, but at the end of the day, almost every student who takes his class ends up raving about it to their friends. Parents he meets on occasion love him too. And only partially because he looks hot as hell with his glasses and his paint-stained apron.

At the end of a project, he has everyone go around and talk about what they made. He isn't picky. They can talk about their favorite part of making it, the story behind it, why they chose certain colors, and parts they struggled with. Any little bit of extra information about the project is enough to get the points. He wasn't expecting them to rope him into it when he first started. Now, he fully expects the questions they ask whenever he shows off a project with them.

The first project is charcoal drawings, and Steve draws a weird looking bat with a crazy mouth and no eyes. He tells the class that a bunch of his family play DND, and they have really vivid imaginations. It isn't a lie.

Next they do sand-art and Steve makes a set of patterns comprised of bright, vivid colors. Oranges and pinks and greens. He tells the class it represents his best friend, who is one of his favorite people in the world. A week later he tells the class that he showed her the sand art and she declared it the ugliest thing she had ever seen, then proceeded to hang it in her room with a bright smile on her face.

During the sculpting unit, he makes a homemade mug, with little fish carved on the side. He tells the class his father-in-law collects mugs, and this one is going to be a birthday gift.

The class seemed to like sculpting, so he does a unit on wire-art. He makes a small wire guitar and a wire ring. The class ask, with shit eating grins, if he's got somebody he's planning on proposing to. He happily tells them he already proposed, this ring is just for fun, since his partner loves to wear them.

Steve's small apartment fills up over the years with tons of art projects gifted to him by his students, paintings and drawings hanging on the walls, and a whole bookshelf dedicated to the 3D work. He remembers that first part class he took sometimes, back when he was just a sad kid who's friends were all assholes, he was a bit of an asshole himself, who didn't know that horrible things existed just under his feet. He thinks back on it fondly enough, but he couldn't be happier that he isn't that kid anymore. He's pretty damn pleased being the teacher now.

#steve harrington #teacher steve harrington #art teacher #art teacher steve #my beloved #implied steddie #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #robin buckley #wayne munson #stranger things 4 #ficlet

[critter-of-habit]

When I watched the new What If episode with Peggy & Nat I immediately thought of you, your art, and what your reaction would be. Especially since it was kind of a retelling of Captain America & The Winter Soldier.

What are your thoughts on the episode?

Seeing as you asked, I WILL TELL YOU MY MANY THOUGHTS. WITH PICTURES.

under the cut for length lol

First of all, as usual the animation, particularly the lighting, was incredible. Also the effects! The explosions, smoke, everything. Always blows me away how much effort and love these animators put in to What If.

I love that it's Winter Soldier based because by god do I love that movie - but I also love that it's so very different to my AU cos that means I can keep going with it lol.

Okay here we go with the highlights - Blatant flirting and showing off:

This???:

Just how in sync they were with every fight scene - even in the Battle of New York when they had only known each other for a few hours.

HEY LOVELY. LOVELY:

Angst. And how soft Nat is here:

"Hey, Peg. I got you."

Natasha's inability to sit in a chair properly:

Peggy making a star wars reference and Nat calling her out on it like .. Nat you RECOGNIZED the reference you're a nerd too

"You know I always wondered how you got all those GI Boys to follow a woman into war: question answered." ie. "I'm so into you right now":

This Natasha stabbed Dreykov to death with a corkscrew and I love her for it.

Natasha instinctively putting herself in between Peggy and Steve even though they're both twice her size

I've already mentioned but, the choice to focus on Natasha's face in this scene:

Nat's face here:

Natasha only getting taken down by the robots because her gay-Peggy-focused-ass gets distracted when Peggy runs off to protect Steve: (I'll come back to this point later as a negative)

MELINA.

Was anyone else looking to see if Yelena was there

"Let's unpack that later, shall we?"

"I don't know whether to kiss you, kill you, or dissect you." "Let me guess, all three?"

I bet the Captain Carter film was baby Nat's gay awakening lol:

Melina's glorious slo-mo "grandma, it's me, anastasia" coat drop:

Peggy running to save Nat T_T

These shots:

Nat wearing the same outfit from Winter Soldier:

Natasha "too-loyal-and-infatuated-for-her-own-good" Romanoff going along with Peggy again to look for Steve without even being asked. (in stark contrast to the end of Winter Soldier when Natasha did not go with Steve to look for Bucky, I might add)

New reaction image:

Peggy and Nat calling and reaching out to each other when the portal opens and ALMOST making it - then Natasha punching the ground in desperation T_T

These two look SO COOL and I can't wait for the 1602 episode.

Negative points:

Rehashing Ste/ggy all over again - we already HAD that and it was endgame, why do it again?

As much as I adore Natasha's intense loyalty, it's very one sided in this episode and I'm wondering if that's intentional. Peggy is hyperfocused on Steve and leaves Nat behind to run after him multiple times, even though he is in an entire suit of armor and is FINE and Natasha is the one actually getting injured. Then she's leaving at the end without saying goodbye to go find Steve again (despite there being no reason to think he's alive? he EXPLODED??) even though Natasha just went through a trauma too and shouldn't be abandoned. Kinda feels like Peggy is taking Natasha's always being there for granted and I really hope it's addressed in following episodes (though I doubt it will be - it'll just be Steve focused again -_- )

Okay I think I'm done. This was a LOT I'm not sorry I've been waiting for more content for SO LONG I can't wait for the rest of the episodes to rip my heart out and stomp on it :3

#Disclaimer because this is tumblr: I'm under no illusion that Peggynat will actually happen #but all their interactions FEED ME #peggynat #reply #critter rambles #long post #VERY long post I'm not sorry #what if...? #what if...? spoilers #what if #what if spoilers

[drgrlfriend]

@brilcrist created this lovely art depicting a scene from my fic! My Heart Will Be Your Home by dr_girlfriend

Excerpt:

That is … definitely a guy fighting with a bow and arrow.  He’s tall and blond — could probably pass for Steve at a distance, but maybe even a touch taller and built a bit leaner — wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a fancy-looking recurve bow in his hand and a quiver strapped slantways across his back.  He’s got his back to a giant maple tree, and is firing arrows in a blur of motion while ducking lasers from the bots.  These ones look a little like the Daleks from that show Tony and Bruce love — vaguely conical and stumpy, with what seems to be a single laser on each.  

“Why ain’t he gettin’ up in that tree?” Bucky wonders aloud, revving through the preserve.  “It’s a better tactical position.”  He’s starting to see scattered bots now, and he slaloms a course through them, swinging his metal arm and sending them flying as he zooms by.

“Not everyone has sniper training,” Sam suggests.  “He’s probably just some archery hobbyist, or something.  Probably doesn’t know the first damn thing about fighting.”

A bot has gotten close up on the guy’s flank, and he seems to realize just in time.  He somersaults sideways, coming up with an arrow in his hand and jamming it directly into the bot’s side just as a shot from Redwing finishes it off.  

“I don’t know about that,” Steve says dryly.  “Seems to be doing pretty good to me.  Either way, we’re almost on him; Bucky, I’ll take the right side, you take the left.”

“Copy.”  There’s a line of bots advancing on the guy and Bucky pulls up with a sharp twist, planting his left foot and letting the rear of the bike skid sideways so that the back wheel takes out the bots like a row of dominoes.

Out of the corner of his eye Bucky sees Steve hurtle over the handlebars of his own motorcycle and yeet the whole damn thing at a cluster of bots.  No finesse, that guy.

Bucky jumps off his bike, swinging at the bots closest to him.  He’s just about dealt with that cluster and is only a few paces away from the archer when the guy’s eyes widen.  He lunges toward Bucky, pushing him aside just as one of the bots on the ground fires.

The man yelps and staggers, pressing a hand to his side.

“What kind of idiot are you?” Bucky growls, pulling the man back and putting his own body between him and the bot.  “Let me take the hits!” 

A furrow appears between the man’s brows, his mouth gaping for a moment, and then he seems to shake it off, nocking another arrow and loosing it.  It skims so close to Bucky’s face that it stirs his hair, and Bucky whirls to see another bot was sneaking up on him.

“Jesus, these things are everywhere,” Bucky complains, drawing his Glock and firing, taking out the laser of the one on the ground.  

“There’s a weak spot in the armor plating on the left side,” the man yells.  

Time seems to stop for a moment, Bucky’s heart stuttering and then kicking into overdrive.  The air around him suddenly seems crystal clear — Bucky can see every individual leaf on every tree, can hear the sighing of the wind and the rustle of the leaves, the whirring of the bots and the heartbeat and panting breaths of the guy as he ducks another laser.

“Bucky, did he —” Steve starts over the comm.

“Not now, Stevie,” Bucky manages.  He shakes off his shock and forcibly shoves the revelation to the back of his mind in order to focus on the task at hand.  Time seems to lurch back into a normal speed and Bucky concentrates on blocking the man from the line of fire of the largest cluster of approaching bots.

“I’ll make an opening, you run for it,” he shouts.

“I’m not leaving,” the man shouts back.  Jesus christ, another vigilante-wannabe.  They’re coming out of the woodwork these days.  Was this guy even in the park when all this started, or did he come looking for a fight?

“Watch your back,” Bucky instructs with a mental shrug, and then there’s no more time for words, the two of them fighting fiercely against the oncoming wave of bots.  

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #clint barton #hawkeye #winterhawk #marvel #avengers #fanfiction #my heart will be your home #my fic #fan art #brilcrist

[tboygareth]

Batter up!

Chapters 1 & 2 coming to AO3 on November 12, 2023, featuring art by @thatnerdemryn and a playlist by @steves-strapcollection, written for @steddiebang

Summary: All Steve wants for the 2023 baseball season is for the media to leave him alone for once. His reputation is still suffering after he was caught last season in a very compromising position with one of his teammates, and he just wants to lay low and play a good season. A trip to the World Series wouldn't hurt either. A voice from his past has other plans, though.

Eddie hasn't been able to forget what the two of them had together when they were in high school, or his promise to Steve when they parted ways the summer after senior year: Someday I'll write a whole album for you. It's been a decade, and all the pieces are in place for Eddie to finally make good on that promise.

Steve is in for a roller coaster of a season.

Sneak peek under the cut

It’s around sunrise when he wakes with his alarm, properly this time, and he finds seven missed calls from Robin, and another text message from her. 

Call me. This is a PR call, not a bestie call. Get up.

So Steve calls his publicist, Robin Buckley, rather than his best friend Rob.

“Jesus, it’s about damn time,” she says by way of greeting.

“I just woke up, Rob. What do you want?”

“Eddie’s album came out today.”

Steve waits, but Robin doesn’t say anything else. “Okay? Why am I supposed to care? I haven’t spoken to Eddie Munson in almost ten years.”

“I need you to open Spotify and just. Look at the album art.”

“I don’t even remember what his fucking band is even called,” Steve lies, putting Robin on speaker, and then he thumbs his way through his apps to open Spotify. Pulling up the search feature, Steve taps in the name of Eddie’s band and right there, under recently released, is the new Corroded Coffin album.

Batter up!, it’s called. 

On the cover is Eddie Munson, looking just as wild as he did in high school and not a day older than he looked the last time Steve saw him. Eddie’s big, dark eyes are trained on the camera, and he’s got his body turned sideways. He is wearing a generic baseball uniform in blue and gray. He’s got a baseball bat positioned between strong thighs, sticking out from between his legs in an obscene suggestion of an erection. There are nails sticking out of the end of the bat and the album title is embossed on the barrel. Eddie’s hand, big and veiny, is gripped around the taper, a light gray sweatband on his wrist. He is either wearing an athletic cup underneath those fucking pants or he’s sporting some very real half chub action. What the hell.

“Jesus H. Christ. Is that… Robin, is that a number seven on his fucking wristband?” Steve asks flatly.

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

Steve ignores her. He can’t focus on anything else. Not if he wants to keep his hard-won sanity. “We could always sue him.” “That would mean owning up to a lot,” Robin says carefully. “I listened to it, Steve. The lyrics aren’t subtle.”

#batter up! #bee's blurbs #steddiebang23 #drops this and runs

[libraryofgage]

The Prince and the Metalhead (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two (you're here!)

I know I just posted part one but I've got Thoughts for this AU that include: Steve's first birthday in Genovia and then his 16th, his conversation with his grandmother about attending public school in America for his senior year, and then we get into him attending Hawkins High and meeting Eddie!

So, yeah, plans lmao

Anyway, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

------

"You'll have a rotating course schedule. Mondays and Wednesdays will focus on math and social studies. Tuesdays and Thursdays will be science and literature. Friday will be Royalty lessons and the history of Genovia. We can also include an elective, if you'd like."

Steve blinks, staring at Sue for a moment before glancing at Jonathan and Robin. Jonathan is looking through a book of photography and Robin is idly scratching behind Dart’s ears. "Will we all have the same elective?" Steve asks.

"Not unless Jonathan and Robin want to join you," Sue says, looking at Steve expectantly. She's got a pen at the ready to write down what he says, and it suddenly feels like a lot of pressure.

Is there a wrong answer here? Is there an answer that gets him sent back to his parents? He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood. Before he can lose himself in his thoughts, a cold and wet nose presses against his hand. Steve blinks, smiling at Dart and picking her up to hold close. "What kind of electives are there?" he asks.

Sue hums softly, flipping to another page on her clipboard. "Possible electives include art, music, theatrical performance, physical education, equestrian studies, botany, and foreign languages, to name a few."

"I'll be taking photography lessons," Jonathan says, looking up at Steve and gesturing to his book.

Robin nods and leans back on her palms. "I'll be doing the physical stuff. Like learning how to fight and practicing ballet to improve my balance," she says, leveling a look at Steve that dares him to say anything about the ballet.

Steve wouldn't, though. He doesn't want to make Robin angry enough to ditch him. He looks down at Dart, thinking for a moment before asking, "Can I take more than one?"

"Of course, but you're limited to three for now," Sue says.

What would be the most helpful? Foreign languages, probably, since he'll definitely have to speak with ambassadors from other countries at some point. He should also learn something that can be shown off, a skill that he could pull out at functions to make his grandmother proud or distract guests.

"What language should I learn?" he asks.

Sue thinks for a moment, tapping her pen against her chin. "Mandarin. It's a business language, and we have close relations with a few representatives from China and Hong Kong. If you'd like to learn a Romantic language first, though, Spanish is good."

"I'll learn Mandarin," Steve decides, nodding once to himself. "And music. I want to learn to play...hmm...the piano."

With a nod, Sue writes his electives down. "Let me know if you'd like to add an elective later, Your Highness. In my opinion, though, your current courses will keep you properly challenged for now."

------------------------

Sue wasn't kidding about his academics being challenging. Steve struggles in math, muddles his way through science, drags himself through literature, and is ready to drop when he hits social studies. He'd ask the tutors to spend more time on topics, but Robin and Jonathan seem to have no problem keeping up, and Steve can't bring himself to disrupt their pace.

His Mandarin lessons are going just slightly better if only because the tutor seems to recognize that slower is better for him. After almost a month, he's starting to understand intonation and vocal variation better, and he can recognize a few characters on sight.

Piano lessons are also going well. His tutor there doesn't burden him with theory; she introduces the keys, shows him how to read sheet music, and then lets him choose songs to learn. Steve feels the most at ease when he's squinting at sheet music and slowly pressing piano keys into something recognizable.

The lessons he really looks forward to, however, are the ones for his Royalty Education. He gets to see his grandmother then, and she spends the whole day with him. Even better, something about this stuff just clicks. He's good at fixing his posture and memorizing silverware placement. He bows just right on his first try and his grandmother compliments his wave.

By the end of the lesson, she'll be smiling, her pride obvious, and take him for a walk in the gardens or to eat cookies in the kitchen.

"Royalty requires maintenance," Clarisse says, standing in front of Steve with relaxed shoulders. "You maintain your demeanor, your image, your knowledge of foreign dignitaries, your understanding of the people’s needs, and your humility. But you must also maintain your pride and your boundaries."

"That sounds like a lot," Steve says, idly tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"It can be overwhelming, but it becomes second nature in time," Clarisse explains, smiling reassuringly. "When you're royalty, you are constantly watched. Many eyes are kind or curious, but others are malicious, and you want to do everything you can to disappoint the malicious ones."

"How?"

"By acting like the Crown Prince you are."

"What kind of prince am I?" Steve asks, finally voicing the question that's been lingering since these lessons started. What kind of prince does his grandmother want? What kind of prince would best serve the people? What kind of prince will be so loved by all that nobody could even think of thinking about getting rid of him?

Clarisse hums, thinking for a moment. "I suppose a good one," she says, her slight smile telling Steve that she's only lightly teasing. "My hope is that you'll be kind and competent. You will make Genovia prosperous without compromising tradition. You won't allow politics to stand in the way of doing what's right by the people of Genovia. But this is a tiring job, so I hope you'll learn how to balance your duties with relaxation."

It's a lot, but Steve can do it. He can be that kind of prince, especially for the country and grandmother that's offered everything he's ever wanted and more. He nods once. "Okay," he says, "What do I need to learn, then?"

Clarisse smiles fondly at him. "Let's start by reviewing Genovian history. Only by knowing the past can you face the future."

With that, she places a book on Steve's desk and doesn't wait for him to open it before telling him about Genovia's founding.

------------------------

Steve has weekends off from classes, which leaves him with more free time than he knows what to do with when he doesn't have to clean a house or make his own meals. So, he's bored, and telling Robin that he was bored was a huge mistake after she suggested riding bikes around the garden only to learn Steve didn't know how.

She'd insisted that he should learn, insisted that Clarisse be the one who teaches him, and insisted on hearing no objections.

And now he's here, standing in front of Clarisse's desk and staring down at his feet as she finishes writing something on the paper in front of her. Joe is standing just to her right, hands behind his back.

"Okay," Clarisse says, gently placing her pen on the desk before looking at Steve with an encouraging smile. "What did you want to ask me, Steve?"

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, takes a deep breath, and looks up. "Well, um, Robin wants to ride bikes, but I don't know how," he says.

"Well, that's easily fixed," Clarisse says, reaching for a phone at the corner of her desk. "I'm sure a member of staff is free to teach you."

Before she can pick up the phone, Steve finds himself blurting out, "Well, I...I was hoping...you could teach me."

Clarisse freezes, blinking twice with confusion before looking at Steve. "You want me to teach you?" she asks. When Steve nods once, she sighs softly. "A queen does not ride bikes. Besides, I have too much work to complete. Perhaps I could accompany you for a walk this evening to make up for it."

Despite himself, despite bracing for rejection, it still hurts. In the three months he's been in Genovia, Clarisse has agreed to just about every request he's made. Every held breath as he waits for cruel words has been released with unprecedented relief when none came. Even when he broke something---a priceless vase, according to Jonathan---his grandmother had simply surveyed the damage, thanked him for being honest, and asked him to avoid kicking soccer balls in the presence of priceless vases in the future.

Perhaps Steve has gotten too comfortable. He shouldn't be pushing like this. If he wants his grandmother's affection, he should know when to hold himself back.

So, despite the unfamiliar urge to ask again in case Clarisse might change her mind, Steve nods once. "I look forward to walking with you, Grandmother," he says, his voice quiet. He glances up, waiting long enough to see Clarisse's smile before turning on his heel and leaving the office as quickly as he can.

Clarisse watches him go, her head slightly tilted as the door closes silently behind Steve. She nods once, glad that Steve is sensible enough to understand things like work and propriety, and picks up her pen once more.

"If I may speak freely, Your Majesty?" Joe asks.

"At this point, Joe, you may as well assume the answer is yes."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, and please pardon my French, my experience has been that assuming makes an ass out of you and me."

It takes a moment for Clarisse to understand the joke. When she does, she can't help her amused smile. "Fair enough," she says, "Go ahead, Joe."

"Do you remember what I said about being Steve's grandmother?"

"Yes, of course."

"Perhaps now is one of those moments where being a grandmother is more important than being a queen. His Highness does not ask for much, and he is not the kind to ask more than once, even if he really wants something. I imagine it took a significant amount of courage to ask you to teach him in the first place."

"Are you suggesting that I...I risk making a fool of myself for all to see?" Clarisse asks.

"I am suggesting you spend time with your grandson, who asks very little of you because he does not believe he can ask for anything."

Clarisse is silent a moment, letting Joe's words process and settle in her brain. Finally, she sighs and gestures to the papers on her desk. "I have work to complete," she says.

"Your Majesty, editing these proposals was on your schedule two weeks from now. You are ahead of your work. A break would not be unreasonable or unwarranted."

Well, when he puts it like that.

Clarisse sighs, leans back in her chair, and looks up at Joe. He's still staring at the door, giving no indication that he feels her eyes on him, but she knows he does. "Have a groundskeeper retrieve bikes and safety gear and meet us in the garden," she says, standing from her chair and bracing herself to look like an utter fool.

Her apprehension fades away fifteen minutes later. It can't hold last when she sees Steve's surprised and delighted expression at her presence. As she helps him put on knee and elbow pads, shows him how to pull the helmet's strap tight, and holds the bike steady as he sits on it, Clarisse decides a little foolishness is perfectly fine (necessary, even) if it will keep the smile on Steve's face.

------------

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added to future parts!)

@y4r3luv, @potato-of-the-lord,

#stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #princess diaries crossover #queen clarisse renaldi #modern royalty au #future steddie #robin buckley #jonathan byers #the party's parents #my writing #anybody else ever have that experience where the first time you realize that somebody won't make you feel guilty for asking for things #you get way in your head about not asking for the one (1) thing that will ruin it all for you #so every time you ask for something new you're bracing to take the request back as quickly as you can #just me? #aight then lmao #to absolutely nobody's surprise i am projecting on steve harrington #if you made it this far in the tags #you deserve a cookie lmao

[welldonebeca]

about offices and feelings (1)

Summary: When Steve is stuck in an elevator with his office crush, he is forced to face his feelings about her. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fat!F!Reader WC: 1.6k words Warnings: Office AU. Dirty thoughts. Office crushes. Masturbation. Tension. Broken elevators. Fluff.

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Steve Rogers was so stupid. The stupidest of stupid men to have ever been stupid.

After Pepper had insisted on him for months, Tony had a new assistant, and his secretary threatened to sue him for delegating the work to her instead of hiring someone to do it properly.

He hired you, a perfectly adequate and competent personal assistant with very good experience and a track record of being the perfect fit for the job.

The day you walked into the office of Stark Industries was the day Steve Rogers' brain quit its job and never worked properly again.

You were beautiful, as gorgeous as if you had come right out of the Renaissance art he used to study in college, but the women in the paintings didn't hold a candle to you. Their soft jaws were not as beautiful as yours and your round cheeks, their curves not nearly as tempting and mouth-watering as yours.

And it made him feel such shame with his reaction, because you were modest and very professional, and he couldn't speak a word of negativity about your behaviour while his own behaviour was terribly gross.

Every day you were polite to everyone and tidy, and Tony's life was perfectly organised again, while Steve was thrown into a mess of madness and lust.

He was crushing on you, and really - really - hard. Steve was grateful that Tony's office was on a completely different floor of the building, which meant he didn't have to see you all the time, and so he wouldn't have his productivity tanked from not being able to look away from you. He barely saw you once or twice a week.

That was why when he caught your name in his inbox, he opened your email right away, finding a reminder of a meeting that would happen later that day, about the company's near mandatory day in the city park, which you were organising in Tony's name, of course.

Steve wrapped up his work, not wanting to leave you - or the other departments - waiting much, and actually finished ten minutes before it was supposed to happen. It gave him enough time to go to the coffee machine and make you a nice mixture of a cappuccino and hot chocolate, which he knew was your soft spot and favourite drink, and put it in a tall cup before making his own coffee and carrying them to the meeting room.

You were alone, setting up the presentation for Tony when he walked into the room, so focused you didn't even notice him as he put the coffee on the table and sat down, and he had time to adjust his posture before clearing his throat.

"Mister Rogers," you gasped when you saw him, a beautiful grin coming to your lips. "Good afternoon. Always early."

"Miss Y/N," he greeted, smiling, and raising his drink for you. "I got you coffee."

"Thank you," you spoke politely, reaching for it in his hand, and your fingers brushed against him when you picked it up, warm and soft.

You were all soft.

He took in a deep breath from behind the large table, your perfume was very faint in the room, and you smelt so damn good.

Steve would have loved to focus on your face and see your reaction at realising he had made the chocolate-cappuccino mix and not just gone for the mocha button in the machine, but there was something else he couldn't look away from.

You'd gotten up, and you were wearing a pencil skirt.

Steve could see your belly, its curve in all its glory, and all he wanted was to touch you, squeeze you and...

"Is this a mocha?" you asked, snatching his attention to your face.

Steve swallowed down hard, nodding as his cheeks felt like they were set on fire.

"I thought they weren't making mochas anymore," you sounded surprised.

"I mixed it myself," he told you. "The cappuccino and then the hot chocolate, I remember you like it better that way."

You were wide-eyed for a moment, a bit shocked, and smiled.

"Thank you, Mr Rogers," you gasped.

He gulped, nodding quickly. He was so close to a fucking HR summoning.

"You are welcome, miss," he squeezed it out of himself.

And before he could put his foot in his mouth, a group entered the room, greeting you two and taking their seats, and he put himself into his work mind again, which he should have been in since the very beginning.

He did his job like a good head of his department, took notes and offered his opinions, and behaved very correctly.

He also ran away from the meeting room before anyone else and locked himself in his office and his private bathroom once he was alone.

His work day was over anyway, and if anyone asked, he was having a stomach ache.

Steve didn't even have half an ounce of shame in him as he unbuckled his pants in the bathroom stall and pulled out his cock, lust coiling in his belly like a stupid teenager who had just seen a tit for the first time.

Fuck, he would love to see your tits. They were big, enough that he knew they would spill out of his hands easily. They probably were just as soft as you, and probably smelt so good if he buried his face in them.

He wrapped his fingers around himself, closing his eyes as his cock throbbed, neglected in his strict daily routine and already half hard as he jerked himself, muffling his sounds with a hand, afraid of being caught.

It was humiliating, jerking off in the company's bathroom like that, and he couldn't even be ashamed of himself.

He caressed his head, sensitive and shining with precum. Fuck, would you like his cock?

Would you suck it?

Fuck, he throbbed with the thought of your lips around his dick, of you hungry for him to cum down your throat.

He fucked his own hand needy, uncovering his mouth to fondle his balls, trying to be quick.

If it was for him, he would be putting his cum right in your cunt. Fuck, to have you under him, with your ass up, moaning as he fucked you hard and put his cum deep, deep in your cunt.

Steve bit his lower lip, stifling a moan as his balls tightened, and aimed for the toilet as he leaned against the wall, his cum hitting the porcelain right on time as his legs trembled, and breathed through his pursed lips, letting himself go and trying to calm down.

"Damn it," he hissed.

He was so fucked.

Steve hid in his office for another hour, emailing his team and sending the meeting's notes to them, so they would all be informed, and the office was already empty when he walked off, suit over his arm and suitcase in his hand, completely relaxed knowing he wouldn't cross paths with you.

He didn't know how long hiding from you would even work. You were both adults, he was a grown man who knew he was absolutely in the wrong position, and while - so far - it wasn’t something you seemed annoyed with, he didn't know how long it would be until you picked up on it and started to get uncomfortable around him!

Steve wasn't mean, he knew you didn't owe him anything, and the last thing he wanted was for you to think he expected something in return for just being a decent human being around you.

He waved to the janitor as he walked to the lift and pressed the button, waiting for it quietly.

He was ready to go home, have a nice dinner and rest.

And then, when the door opened, he was shocked to see you.

"Mr Rogers," you greeted.

Steve was frozen for a moment, staring at you wide-eyed, and shook himself into walking into the elevator.

"Good afternoon, Miss Y/N," he greeted. "Afternoon? Evening?"

You thought for a brief moment, looking amused.

"Is it six yet?"

He looked at the buttons to see if you had pressed the button to the existing level and then checked his watch.

"Six and two minutes," he told you.

"Evening it is," you decided.

He hummed a quiet confirmation to you, watching the numbers going down.

"Long day?" you asked suddenly.

Steve turned to look at you, surprised by the tentative small talk.

"Yeah," he confirmed, a bit too honest. "Lots of work."

"Yeah," you agreed. "Lots of... stuff."

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

You two exhaled together, and the doors opened in an empty floor, closing right after.

Steve was about to ask you something - anything, whatever was enough to make you feel like he wanted to keep talking - when the metal box you two were in shook and stopped suddenly, and if he didn't reach for you quickly you would have fallen onto the floor.

His heart came to his throat when the lights became black and the elevator started free-falling, and you grabbed him, squeezing him for dear life and screaming in fear.

And then it stopped, not killing you two, but not leaving you comfortable either.

The two of you fell down on your butts, and held you as you panted and sobbed into his neck.

Steve didn't even think before wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you through the panic.

"It's okay," he rubbed your back. "It's okay, we are okay."

You pulled back, looking at his face and then around, opening and closing your mouth, all blood gone from your face as you literally shook in his arms.

"We are alright," you stuttered. "We are alright. In a broken elevator."

Shit.

He looked around, the elevator still completely dark, and reached up, pressing the red button to get security's help, knowing better than to try to get out.

You seemed to be trying to calm down as he did it, and Steve rubbed your back slowly, trying to calm you down.

"Hello?" security answered.

…

“about offices and feelings” was posted on my Patreon in June. To read it now, subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I post 6x a week.

…

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#welldonebeca's about offices and feelings #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x fat!reader

[lunaroserites]

Art and Ice

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: This might a 2 or 3 parter. College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that troupe and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing I think, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Derogatory use of the word puck bunny. Bucky is a playboy. There is not interaction be MC and Bucky quite yet.

Word Court: 1935

Likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

“I don’t know what to do,” you groaned as you threw your head back against the worn couch. 

“I want the project to focus on movement, but lifelike movement. Human movement.” You mocked your professor. It not being nature themed had to be a jab just for you. All your projects were nature related or still motion. 

“Professor Grace wasn’t targeting you,” Wanda said, letting out a chuckle at your dramatics. 

“Are you sure you’re not a drama major?” Pietro laughed as he threw a butter packet at you. 

“You two are the worst,” you sighed as you threw your arm over your eyes. Twins, why did my best friends have to be twins. The world is cruel, your thoughts drift.

“Why don’t you come to the track and draw me?” Pietro wiggled his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes in response.  

“Eh,” you sighed. You didn’t want a solution at the moment. You just wanted to complain. 

“She just wants to vent guys,” Natasha said as she came through the door holding a couple bags of takeout and a box of wine. “And I doubt she wants to see you and the rest of the track team in those tiny little running shorts you call clothing,” she sassed at Pietro. He just laughed, and stuck a pose with his leg up on the bar stool next to the island counter causing you all to laugh with him. 

“Thank you,” you exclaimed as she handed you your food. You threw a 10 at her and settled back down into the couch. 

“You know, you could come by the rink and draw a couple of the guys,” Nat mentioned. Her long term boyfriend was on the hockey team, Clint, a sharpshooting winger nicknamed Hawkeye. 

“Pfft,” you scoffed. “I’m not going to have them think I’m one of those, puck kitties, or whatever they’re called.” 

“Puck bunny,” Wanda chimed in, you pointed your chopstick at her and smiled. 

Natasha let out a loud laugh, one of those full bodied ones, “god they won’t think that.” You raised your eyebrow at her and gave her an incredulous look. 

“I can’t have them showing off because I’m there. I need to get them in their element. Not focused on what I’m doing,” you groaned again. “Biggest issue is I will need permission from the person or people. So they’ll have to know.” 

“Like I said Princessa, draw me. You have my permission,” Pietro winked, you rolled your eyes at him. 

“You’re too obvious of a choice. And as much as Wanda insists that Professor Grace doesn’t have a personal vendetta against me, she’ll love pointing out I picked the safe option,” you whined. 

“Wanda, you haven’t seen Grace in class. She will take any chance to criticize her pieces. Nitpicking to the extreme.” Natasha chimed in, “if it wasn’t for Dr. Rain I think our resident artist would've failed out of this course by now.” Dr. Rain was the head of the art department and after a wholly undergraded piece you submitted last semester Prof. Grace was on thin ice. So she graded you fairly but took every chance to tear you apart in front of the class. 

“I’ll think about the hockey team. It would be the least expected from me anyway,” you signed and got up from the couch taking everyone’s garbage and throwing it out. Football season was over, but the hockey season was in full swing right now and our team was top of the league. 

“They have practice tomorrow night, you should come by and look at it,” Nat said, giving you a knowing look. 

~The Next Day~

That's how you ended up in the rink. Underdressed because you didn’t realize how cold an ice rink would be in the stands. You were right though, about the type of girls that hung out there, they were scantily dressed and leaning over the tunnel that the players exited and entered from. How they weren’t frozen baffled you. 

Nat was sitting reading a chemistry book across from you near the bench, as you didn’t want the team knowing you knew her. Well everyone but Clint. You’ve hung out quite a few times over the past couple years. You took a seat a few rows up opposite the bench near what Nat called the Sin bin (penalty box.) It gave an excellent undisrupted view of the rink and the players as they practiced. 

The sounds of skates gliding over fresh ice and sticks bouncing off it was an almost soothing sound. The puck skittered across the ice as it was passed between teammates and shot toward the empty net. The goalie, a guy named Quill, was performing some kind of ritual at the opposite end of the rink. Nat mentioned he was a bit of an odd duck. But according to her all goalies were odd in their own ways. 

The movement was fluid and easy to follow. How these giant men moved so weightlessly across the ice left you in awe. The Captain of the team was a blonde center named Steve Rogers, better known as Cap. Most of the school knew him, he was in a few of your art classes over the semesters. His girlfriend Peggy, was the student union president. 

The star of the team was his blurry best friend James “Bucky” Barnes. He was a “winger,” with good prospects for the NHL according to Nat as she gave you a lowdown of the team as you guys went there just after practice started. He was nicknamed the White Wolf. How a man of his size moved that easily was mesmerizing, he almost floated over the ice and it looked like he was dancing. He was sinfully handsome as well. Every other week he had a new girl hanging off his arm. Undoubtedly one of those puck bunnies as they were called. He was the talk of the school after the football season concluded. 

It made you dislike him on principle. The sports were definitely more priority in the school and the art department lacked thanks to these overgrown toddlers on skates. But you couldn’t deny his natural handsomeness, he looked effortlessly handsome and it was almost unfair. 

You looked down at your sketch pad that you had been absently scratching at. Bucky seemed to be your muse because you couldn’t take your eyes off him as he effortlessly skated around the rink. You were in danger and you knew it. You gulped and closed the book before quickly gathering your things and leaving. 

It didn’t take Nat long to text you and ask where you went. You sent her a quick message back saying you were cold. Not that Bucky, the school's playboy, had quickly become the muse of your piece. 

“Nat, I thought you said your friend was coming by,” Clint asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

“She did, she left because she was cold,” Nat chuckled. 

“Anyone know the pretty one watching by the sin bin?” She overheard Wilson ask. “And what she was doing?” 

“I think I was in a couple art classes with her,” Steve mentioned missing your name. 

“I won’t complain if she comes by again,” Barnes said. Wilson raised a brow at him. 

“What, so you can break her heart well?” 

“Look doll, it’s not you,” 

“It’s me.” Wilson and Stark said together. Barnes shot both men a glare. Then the high pitched whine of Barnes newest fling squealed his name and that was Clint and Nat’s queue to hightail it out of there. The collective groans from the rest of the team matched her thoughts. 

~A couple days later~

“Loki, I don’t know what I’m going to do, this project is worth too much for me to go safe,” you sighed as you laid your head on his lap. He was reading some classic novel for his English class in the student commons. His fingers nimbly moved through your hair as he held the book in the other hand. 

“Darling, just go back to the ice rink,” he knew almost immediately when something was up when you were walking together a couple days later. The perspective bastard. Loki was your best friend since middle school, his brother Thor was the star quarterback for the football team in both high school and here. 

“Why would I do that,” you pouted. 

“Because you clearly want to draw this man, and it will ruin you for months just like that piece you did of Helena,” he said shortly. Helena or Hela was his big sister and she was absolutely stunning. You had pined over drawing her for a piece for months before Loki forced you to ask her. It fixed everything and life back to normal after you painted the piece. 

“I hate when you do that,” you whined, his eyes flicking down to your face. 

“Hate what darling,” he mused. 

“That, being reasonable and knowing what I need before I admit what I need to do.” He laughed and ruffled your hair affectionately. 

“Comes with years of experience,” he sighed and placed his book down next to his leg. “Do bundle up this time will you,” he called as you walked away, you quickly flipped him the bird as you rounded the corner. 

And there you were back at the rink again. Although tonight was a game night and the rink was packed. “20 dollars,” a nasally boy said as he pushed his glasses up, he looked bored out of his mind. 

“Pardon?” You asked, looking at him. 

“It’s 20 dollars to get in the game,” he said in an annoyed tone. 

“Oh, I’m a student,” you showed your ID card, he rolled his eyes, “5 dollars.” You nodded and placed the five down. Only partners of the team got in free. Perk of fucking one of the team members you guessed, that must have outweighed the fear of them cheating or getting bored. You knew that wasn’t fair. At least two of the guys were in committed relationships and one was in an on again off again relationship. The rest though you weren’t sure, you shock your head at the thought. 

You caught the flaming red hair of Nat in her reserved seat next to the bench, Peggy was next to her. There were a few open seats at the top of the rink, not great from getting a good view of what you needed to draw. But it would have to do. Instantly your eyes were drawn to Barnes, number 17, flying up the ice leaving the opposing team in the dust, snow? With a quick flick of his wrist the puck was shot sideways and Barton scored. The crowd stood and cheered loudly. You wished you had ear plugs now. The buzzer was insanely loud and made your ears ring. How Nat enjoyed this you’d never understand. Barton. You thought, Nat wasn’t big on sports, but she was big on her sweet boyfriend. 

You focused on Barnes as he showboated around the rink, celebrating his assist. He moved so fluidly, you were mesmerized. You drew many little pieces focusing on the movement trying to capture the effortlessness of him skating. You were startled from your drawing when the buzzer screeched again the crowd roared in applause. The team scored again and it seemed to be Barnes that scored this time. Hats flew onto the ice as he skated around. That was odd, you squinted at the action. His eyes caught yours for a split second as he rushed past and it felt like eternity. 

Read Chapter 2 here

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more <3

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes #fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #marvel imagine #college!bucky #college au #loki #natasha x clint #bucky fanfic #white wolf #hockey fic #artist fic #hockeyplayer!bucky x artist!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 23 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Dads Steddie/ Fem mom reader, SMUT, all the regular smut that comes with these three. ANGST, for me this is soft angst lol I said what I said. They run into the guys ex and Eddie deals with his emotions regarding her and the things she's said in the past, Ro struggles with the thought of her brother going away to college so the parents have to handle that. FLUFF, they love each other and their kids <3

Word Count: 3687

Series here

 Low whimpering and soft movements shook you from sleep as you rolled over to a sight you had seen many mornings in the past. Eddie was on top of Steve slowly riding him as the other boy softly smiled up at his blissed out face while languidly stroking his cock. You always wanted them to feel comfortable so you laid there quietly as you watched them like a work of art. 

“There you go, baby.”, Steve whispered. “Fuck, you take me so well.”

Threading his fingers in his husband’s hair, he pulled his lips to his own as Eddie panted against them. 

“Harder, Steve. Please.”

“Yeah? Is that you need, honey? I can do that for you.”

His large palms slide down the man’s back and grip his hips, thrusting up to meet his movements while he continued to bounce and roll his own waist above him. 

Both men smirked when they heard you heavily sigh, knowing you were awake.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“I bet it is.”, you tease as he bites his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No interruption.”, Steve replies in his husky morning tone that you assume is what got the metalhead riled up. 

Lifting the boy from him, he turns Eddie to face you on his side as he wraps his arms around him, spooning him from behind as he slides back into his entrance and thrusts his hips at a steady but firm pace. 

After softly kissing your lips, the long-haired man rested his forehead on yours as he guided his fingers under your panties and through your core. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet.”

Placing your palm over his own, you cling to him as he pushes his middle and ring fingers into your center, groaning when they clench around him at the sound of Steve’s heavy, strangled moans. 

“God, just like that, Steve. Shit.”, Eddie grunted as his hand matched the other boy’s rhythm.

“Oh, Eddie…”, you moan as his digits rapidly abuse your g-spot.

Taking ahold of his husband’s throat, Steve tilted his head back, kissing and nibbling on the man’s sweet spot as he thrust his release inside of him. While pumping Eddie’s cock with his hand, the metalhead folded into him as he came, trying to still focus on you as you guided his movements till your own release followed soon after. 

You watched with heavy eyes as they continued to softly kiss each other before pulling you closer to do the same. 

***

“Good job, Dylan!”, Steve cheered as his son hit the final homerun that ended the game with his school winning. You beamed as James clapped his tiny hands while Aurora danced in front of Eddie shouting her brother’s name in excitement. 

After the obligatory high fives to the other team and everyone congratulating him, your daughter ran down the bleachers meeting Dylan halfway and tackling him with a big hug as he lifted her off her feet.

“That was amazing, baby.”, you praise as he flashes you a big smile.

“Thanks, mom. Hey, Noah invited me to lunch but I told him I was hanging out with you guys today and I would ask if I could come over for dinner.”

“Is that a long-winded way of saying you want to spend the night with Noah?”, Eddie jokes making his son laugh as he nods.

“I’m fine with that, my love.”, you smile as you tilt up to kiss his cheek.

“Oh my god. Is that Edward Munson and Steven Harrington in front of me?”

The three of you recognized the female voice immediately as you froze in place by your car. Steve exhaled loudly as he turned first, coming face to face with their ex. 

“Hello Emily. Always a pleasure to see you.”

“Oh wow. Look at everyone in your family!”, she coos, her voice making you visibly cringe. “Is this the little boy I met before?!”

“Um, hi. I’m Dylan.” He extends his hand politely for her to shake making her giggle a bit too excitedly. 

“I don’t know if you remember me. I saw you at your talent show in elementary. My niece was the young lady who danced.”

“Ooooh yeah. I remember you a bit.”

“That’s actually why we are here now. She goes to the school you just slaughtered.”

“Well, Emily, it’s been great catching up. We’re just going to—”

Aurora cuts off her father as she wiggles out of her brother’s embrace and extends her own tiny palm to the lady in front of her. 

“Hello! I’m Aurora Munson-Harrington. It’s nice to meet you.”, she introduces with her big trademark smile. Before Emily can return the salutations, however, Eddie hastily lifted her in his arms, holding her away from his ex.

“Don’t touch my daughter.”

“Dylan, baby, why don’t you take Ro and James and get them buckled in, alright?”

Nodding, he grabbed the baby from your arms and tried to do the same with his sister but to his surprise his father wouldn’t let her go.

“Honey, it’s alright. Dylan won’t let anything happen to her.”, Steve soothed, comforting the man enough to release her from his hold. Rubbing his back, he tenderly kissed his cheek before turning his attention back to the woman in front of them. 

“I see you didn’t take my advice. I guess I was wrong though, huh. I mean it’s been what… ten years?”

“12.”, you reply with distain ready to leave her behind. 

“Was I also wrong about the genes? I’m guessing the girl came from Ed here? This is also new.”, she snarks as she points between the boys. “You two weren’t fucking when we were together.”

“Hm. Maybe because we didn’t feel comfortable being ourselves with you. Thankfully we found someone better. Come on, guys.”

As Steve tries to guide you both towards your vehicle, Eddie abruptly twists out of his embrace to face his ex. 

“My daughter is perfect. She’s smart, funny, beautiful, and very creative. She loves art and is incredibly kind almost to a fault. She’s not trash and neither was I. You made me feel like I didn’t deserve kids of my own but now I have three. Fuck you, Emily.”

Without waiting for her reply, he spins on his heels and marches towards the car.

***

Steve sighs from his spot on the couch as he watches Eddie lazily strum his guitar. He had been melancholy since everyone had gotten home choosing to remain in his own head for the time being. James was on the floor in front of him fast asleep as he sucked his thumb while you and Dylan were in the kitchen browsing for things online while Aurora nibbled on the rest of her lunch.

“This is a cute little place for you and Daisy. It’s right by the school to.”

“Can we afford it?”

“I don’t see why not as long as you two aren’t scarfing pizza every night.”, you giggle as he lightly shoves your shoulder. Your eyes scan over him taking in the young man before you. He had grown up so much and you still hadn’t dealt with the fact that soon he wouldn’t just be upstairs or in the living room but a few states away. “I’m going to miss you, weirdo.”

His grin grows as he circles his arm around you and kisses your cheek. 

“I’m going to miss you to, mom. I promise I’ll be here every holiday and a couple of weeks in the summer.”

“Where is Dylan going?”, Ro asked as she glanced your way.

“To college, sweetie, remember?”

“Yeah but… he’ll still be in the room next to mine…right?”

“Rara…”, her brother chuckled. “That would be a LONG drive every morning if I lived here. I’m moving in with Daisy to Virginia. I showed you on that map on my phone.”

Your mom Spidey sense began to sound off as her big chocolate eyes met yours before glaring at her brother. 

“Aurora, baby, it’s ok. Like he said, he’s still going to come visit us and—”

“NO! NO, YOU CAN’T LEAVE!”

Both men promptly appeared in the kitchen trying to assess the situation as it unfolded and began to spiral. 

“Ro, I don’t want to leave. I have to go to school—”

“Why do you HAVE to go so far away!?”

“I-I-I…”, he stumbled over his words as eyes pleaded with you guys for help. 

“Aurora, Dylan is moving with Daisy so they can go to school together.”, Steve tried to assist but it just made her huff as she jumped off her chair and slammed her little feet to the ground.

“I hate Daisy! And I hate you, Dylan! You’re mean!”

“Ro…”

Ignoring her brother, she turned and ran up the stairs banging her bedroom door shut for emphasis. 

“I got her.”

“No.”, Steve intercepted as he placed his palm on Eddie’s chest. “I know you’re not 100%. I can handle it.”

“Whatever.”, the metalhead sighed as he headed towards the entry way and threw on his jacket. 

“Hey, what does that mean?”

“It means, whatever, Steven.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Yeah, sure. As long as you’re the hero, right?”

“Eddie…” The man tried to reach for his arm to stop him but flinched when his husband pulled away angrily. 

“I can handle my kids. I can handle my parents and I sure as hell could have handled Emily!”

You and Steve watched with equally confused eyes as he matched his daughter’s tantrum, banging loudly out the front door. 

“Wait here, kid, ok?”

Dylan nodded at your instruction as you ran after Steve who promptly trailed frustratingly after the man he loved. 

“Eddie, what the fuck are talking about?! You did handle her today; extremely well in fact.”

“Thanks, Harrington. Glad I got your approval.”, he muttered under his breath, sighing as you skidded in front of him, blocking entry to his van. 

“Baby, you always shut down like this when it comes to her. I know you’re not mad at him or me. Just talk to us, Eddie, please.”

Tenderly, he kisses your forehead before firmly but gently moving you aside as he gets behind the wheel and drives off into the night.

##########

Eddie exhales heavily as he takes a long swig of the beer in his bottle. 

“Nick, another please.”

The man is startled when a hand pats his back and his son throws himself onto the stool beside him. 

“Dylan? How the hell did you get in here?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, dad, but this place isn’t restricted to people under 21 anymore.”, he smiles as he flashes him the big X on the back of his hand signaling he’s underage. “I don’t know if you two know this either but mom hates when you both leave like that when you’re upset. When you come home she’s going to pretend she’s not but…”

“How’s Ro?”

“I don’t know. She still won’t talk to me. Dad’s trying to calm her down but he’s having a bit of a meltdown himself. I mean the only one who’s not upset right now is James.”, the boy chuckles sullenly. “Can I ask what happened? Or does it involve taxes?”

They both laugh at the memory before Eddie leans back in his seat and stares into the void. 

“That woman we saw today… That’s Steve and I’s ex; the one right before your mom. It didn’t end well.” The metalhead told him the story they had told you many years ago after your first encounter with her. Dylan listened intently, absorbing his words and frowning when he told her about Emily never wanting his kids. 

“Fuck her.”, he swore making his father laugh as he spit some of his beer back into its bottle. “I mean come on. You’re a great dad and Aurora is absolutely wonderful.”

“Yeah, she is. You all are.”

“Can I ask why you felt like you needed to leave?”

Eddie sighs as he tries to figure out how to word what he’s feeling. 

“Growing up my parents made me feel like trash you throw away especially when my mom left me with my uncle. When we were dating Emily she made me feel the same. She wanted to throw me away and be with Steve. I, honestly, think you and your mom are the first people to not make me feel garbage you cast aside.”

“And Steve.” The metalhead’s eyes meet Dylan’s as he softly smiles. “Dad would have been that first non-Munson to do that.”

“Yeah…”

“And that makes you feel bad.”

“Jesus Christ, you little therapist. Yes, it makes me feel bad.”, he laughs. “Y/N has always been there and defended me which I love but Steve’s always gone that extra mile you know. Throwing himself on the preverbal sword so to speak. Usually, I just let him do his thing but, I don’t know, I guess Emily just really hurt me and I never really got to tell her to fuck off.”

“Why don’t you tell her now?”

Dylan gestures with his head and his father follows his eyeline just in time to see his ex sauntering their way. 

“I swear to God, like a fucking virus this woman. Nick! I’ll see you later.”, he announces as he throws money on the bar. 

“Hey Eddie. What are you doing out and about? Where’s Steve?”

“Steve is at home with our wife and other 2 kids. He’s spoken for Emily. Let it go.”

“Said the man who gave me shit in a stadium parking lot.”

The metalhead chuckles under his breath as he turns to face her. 

“See the only difference is Steve dumped your ass after you said everything you wanted to say. I never got that luxury. I came home from work and you were gone. I hope you know what you missed out on. All of my kids especially Aurora are amazing and my marriage between Y/N and Steve are way better than I could have ever dreamed. That could have been your life but you were too much of a selfish bitch to care about anyone except yourself.”

As both boys headed towards the parking lot, Emily drunkenly trailed behind. 

“Listen to you taking about marriage like what you have with of them is real.”, she spat. “Because of you, you denied Steve a real marriage with a real family! You’re the selfish one! I loved him, Eddie.”

“No, you didn’t. If you did you never would have asked him to abandon me!”, he growled. “We are best friends and you tried to split us apart. The fact that you thought he would even consider that shows how little you knew about him. Y/N never once tried to separate us and even encouraged our relationship allowing it to grow. I love him, Emily.”

Grabbing his son, he yanked him towards the van tossing him his keys. 

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

When they got home, the house was quiet with most of the lights turned down except in the kitchen where you and Steve were sitting knocking back small glasses of alcohol you hid in the cabinet for occasions such as this. 

Dylan patted his father comfortingly on the back before running up the stairs to get ready for bed. 

“Eddie.”, you sighed in relief as you got up to hug him. “Are you ok, baby? We were so worried—”

The metalhead’s lips cut you off as he cupped your cheeks and passionately kissed you. 

“I told you once that after Emily, Steve and I thought we couldn’t do the shared partner thing but, sweetheart, I’m so glad we did. Everything we have is because of you. Our kids, this house, our jobs, even Steve and my relationship. You never once made us feel like we had to choose or discouraged it. You allowed us to be ourselves and I fucking love you for that.”

Tilting forward, you kissed him again, continuing to hold him tightly as he addressed his husband.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. Steve, since I met you, you’ve always gone the extra mile for people you love. Sometimes… it makes me feel bad that you dive headfirst into certain situations allowing yourself to take those bullets for me.”

Coming around the table, Steve wrapped his arms around you both, bringing you to his chest. 

“I lead with my heart and I know it’s a strength and a fault. Eddie, I hope you know I don’t mind taking those so-called bullets. I love you both so much and those kids. I’d do anything for them and you. I hear what you’re saying though. We should have talked to Emily together. I should have talked to you about your parents. I should have asked if you wanted me to talk to Rara instead of just…being the hero.”

You both chuckle at his pronunciation of your daughter’s name before the metalhead lifts you in his arms and carries you to the bedroom. After yanking feverishly at each other’s clothes, you grin as he passionately kisses your lips, groaning into your mouth when he feels Steve between his legs eagerly sucking his cock. 

“That’s it, Steve, baby. Fuck.”

“Oh! I have an idea.”, you jump up eagerly, stumbling slightly as your tipsy legs carry you where you need to go. Eddie breathily laughs before focusing back on the other boy, petting his head as he swirled his tongue along his veins and across the tip making the long-haired boy’s eyes roll. 

Tapping on Steve’s shoulder, he glances your way and smiles at the strap on you have in your hands. Bouncing off the bed, he helps you put it on and watches with eager, lust filled eyes as you climb onto the mattress on your knees, tug on Eddie’s arm, and place him in front of you of you, wrapping your arms around his stomach as he sinks down on to the toy. 

His body folds into yours as you both moan and your lips trail along his back as he begins to bounce against you. Your own glassy eyes find Steve’s and he smiles, kissing your lips before maneuvering himself on all fours in front of Eddie as he waited. 

“Oh my fucking God. You both feel so fucking good.”, the metalhead mewls as he guides himself into the other man’s entrance. Your breath warmed his skin as you thrust your hips as hard as you could allowing the silicone inside him to hit his sensitive spot repeatedly as his own cock was being squeezed almost impossibly tight by Steve’s own warmth inside of him. “Fuck. I love you both so much.”

“Love you…baby.”, you panted.

Taking hold of his shoulder, Eddie brought Steve back to chest circling his arms around him like you had as the man’s palm covered his own while his head fell back. 

“Fuck, Eddie, honey. Just like that. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Right there? I got you, sweetheart.” Quickly covering his mouth, the metalhead clung to the other man as he grunted loudly, ropes of his spend hitting the sheets in front of him. “I know, baby. I know. Jesus, you sound so fucking sexy when you cum.”

His words and Steve’s orgasm put you over the edge as your body trembled against his as the ball dropped and you whimpered into his back. Eddie soon followed, biting into the other boy’s neck as he released his seed into him.

Everyone fell sideways, panting as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Did you know they let minors into The Hideout now?” Throwing your arm over your eyes, you laugh hard as Eddie turns to face you with an equally wide smile, cupping your cheeks to kiss your lips. “Seriously…thank you…for everything.”

After a hastened shower, the three of you curled up in bed, murmuring soft praises and exchanging kisses till you fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

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

“Hey Ro. You wanna play some basketball with me?”

Purposely ignoring her brother, your daughter folds her arms as she looks in the opposite direction towards the tv. Dylan hangs his head as he scoots slowly towards the kitchen where you were eating your lunch. 

“How long is she going to be mad at me?”

Placing a finger over your lips, you gesture with your eyes towards the living room and he follows your gaze just in time to see Eddie throw himself down next to his daughter.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Watching tv.”

Her father nods as he pretends to stretch and glance towards the backdoor.

“You know it’s a gorgeous day and I think Dylan was going to play outside. Geez, I shouldn’t say ‘play’ like he’s six anymore. When your dad and I first met him we used to play basketball with him in the court right in the middle of the apartment complex. Can’t believe kid is going off to college.”, he sighs.

“I don’t want him to go…”

“I don’t either, baby, but you know what? He promised he would be here for holidays and your birthday. He’s also going to be calling mommy 24/7 because you know how much she loves you guys. Of course, we can go visit him and Daisy.”

Aurora’s bottom lip quivers as she continues to stare ahead.

“Sweetheart, you know he’s going to miss you and James as much as you both miss him. Your siblings and no matter where he is he’s always going to be there for you and love you just like me, mommy, and dada.”

Without saying a word, she jumped off the couch, running towards Dylan who placed the ball on the counter to open his arms and catch her as she jumped into them. After putting her back down on her feet, he took hold of her hand as they both smiled and ran outside to play. 

Eddie grins when he feels you lightly tug his hair, tilting him back so you could kiss his lips. 

“You’re a good man, Edward Munson.”

“Part of that is because of you Y/N Munson-Harrington.”

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

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#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction

[livwritesstuff]

So you know how parents always have that *one* story about a time where their kid scared them beyond this universe — like their kid could be a daredevil and constantly trying their patience but this particular story is the most harrowing, scariest situation they’ve been in. (This may not be universal but I’m hoping I’m explaining it right lol)

What do you think would be Steve and Ed’s stories for each of the girls?

tw: hospitals, illness, car accidents, in general proceed w/caution if sensitive to children sustaining injuries/illnesses

When Moe was about six months old, she got sick – really sick, hospital-trip sick. All Steve really remembers is that one minute her appetite wasn’t what it usually was, and the next her temperature had spiked to 104 and something about her breathing was not normal and they were on their way to the ER.

They'd ended up staying for three days, Steve didn't sleep the entire time, and because it was before Moe's adoption was finalized, they had all kinds of DFS paperwork to fill out in addition to the mountain of documents the hospital had given them. Steve remembers having to coordinate with Ed dropping everything off at the DFS office and thinking for the first time ever in their years of fostering kids how stupid it was that he was expected to focus on following DFS procedure instead of being there for his baby girl.

The scariest moment with Hazel was the time they lost her.

They’d been at the New England Aquarium with all three girls on a Saturday afternoon – ridiculous, in both Steve and Eddie's opinion, and honestly they weren't even able to enjoy outings like these because they’re still in the stage where they spend the entire time anxiously keeping track of the girls (who were having the time of their lives, obviously – that's why they're suffering through it).

So when Steve did a headcount like he usually does every so often and came up with two, his heart flipped over. He checked again, and again only counted two. 

Triple-checks. Two.

In real-time, they hadn't lost sight of Hazel for more than ten seconds, but it was the longest ten seconds Steve had ever lived by a mile, and he’d spent the whole time thinking that it had to be the worst-case for a situation like this because it was Hazel. If Moe or Robbie got separated from them, they would have no problem marching up to the first person in an NEA shirt they could find and demanding help finding their dads. Hazel, though, is quiet and shy and usually stuck to them like glue. She won’t talk to strangers in the best of moments, so there was no chance she’d find it in herself to try during a bad one.

Turns out, Hazel had been so mesmerized by the jellyfish that even after they all moved on to the next display, Hazel just had to turn back to get one more look, and Eddie had his head screwed on tight enough that day to think of checking there first.

Later, Steve reneged on their plan to take the girls to Boston Pride (which would have been in a few weeks) because it had been scary enough losing track of Hazel in an enclosed space where there were only so many places she could wander off to. The idea of it happening in the dead center of the city, with all those crowds of people, with infinite directions for her to go…no chance. They’d try again next year.

Between all three girls, the scariest moment by goddamn lightyears was Robbie.

When Robbie was fifteen – a high school freshman but placed in the senior-level band class – the school took their music classes (band, orchestra, chorus) to Disney World for the performing arts workshops they offer in the spring.

The student-adult ratio on trips like these is pretty terrible and, in Steve's opinion, there is too much unsupervised independent time for a group of high school students.

Way too much.

A few days into the trip, one kid – a senior with a fake ID who Robbie was friends with through band – managed to commandeer a car and convince a group of kids to blow off curfew and secretly explore the city.

Three hours and half a liquor-store’s worth of alcohol later, Steve got a call from one of the chaperones telling him that his fifteen-year-old was unresponsive in a hospital in Florida.

Planning their last family vacation had taken three entire months of planning and indecision and research.

It took less than five minutes for Steve to get flights booked for the next plane bound for Orlando.

“Maybe if she hadn’t gone on the trip in the first place…” Moe trailed off innocently as she watched her dads pack – she's anything but innocent though. Moe had been pissed to all hell that Robbie got to go to Disney World and she didn’t. She’d spent weeks trying to weasel her way onto the trip to no avail, and she’d been sulking the entire four days Robbie had been gone.

“Not another word,” Eddie warned her, his tone icier than perhaps he’s ever heard directed at one of his kids. Moe opens her mouth to retort, but he cuts her off, "So fuckin' serious, Moe. Not the time."

Robbie had been in pretty rough shape when they finally arrived which was horrible to see – especially for Steve, who had always connected the way Robbie was similar to Eddie with the way Eddie almost died, so seeing her unconscious in a hospital bed, light brown curls strewn out over the sterile-white sheets and tangled amongst all kinds of tubes and wires was pretty much a nightmare come to life.

He was actually thankful for Eddie’s threats to find the idiot driving the car and murder him because he seemed pretty serious about it and making sure he didn't do that gave Steve something to focus on other than counting the hours Robbie had been in the hospital all alone.

#not a happy one folks #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #tw: illness #tw: car accident #tw: hospital

[jen-with-a-pen]

ALL TIED UP - FIVE

Previous ⊹ Series

summary: Steve's night is made when his barista ends up sharing a class with him. But Steve's paranoia gets the best of him– can he really trust his gut?

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 2.66k

warnings: flirting, fluff, hand holding, closeness, steve is adorable when he's nervous, paranoia, unease, cursing, barista lore™

a/n: had fun writing this one as we build up to friday! i might be switching the days/chapters around in the next few, but we'll see. depends on the depravity of my brain 😈

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Last Thursday.

Learning how to draw, when he already knows how to draw, makes Steve feel bad at drawing.

Sitting in the lecture hall of the art school, he doodles over the half-assed notes he manages to take during the first thirty minutes of class. Usually, he loves Drawing 101; it’s his easiest, only late-night class each week and one of the only times he can relax without worrying about one of the brothers barging in with another stupid homework question. Usually, it's just him, his earbuds turned up a touch too high, and whatever subjects the instructor places in front of him. On Thursday nights, nothing stands between him, an easel, and two straight hours of sketching pots and people. 

Except when a said-Thursday night happens to fall on ‘mandatory lecture’ day.

It hasn’t been an hour when Steve gives up trying to force himself to focus, instead choosing to mindlessly doodle over and around the page. The Drawing 101 guest professor continues to drone on about different types of graphite in the pencils kits Steve and twenty-odd other kids in the course were forced to buy. Steve doesn’t understand– nor does he particularly give a shit– as to why a 3H pencil is better over a 3B pencil, or how using an 8B pencil isn’t preferred over a 7B pencil.

A pencil is a fucking pencil.

Steve sighs, failing to stifle a yawn. No amount of coffee– not even the triple espresso concoction his barista had him try earlier that day– could save him from falling asleep in this godforsaken, decades-old room with dimmed lights and sporadically-filled seats scattered amongst the vast sea of empty ones. Honestly, nobody ever came to monthly lectures, save for when their usual professor mentioned the material would be part of their written midterms. Guest lecturers result in a lesser turnout, too, and Steve partially wishes he’d chosen to spend it back at the café or in the library. As the professor continues on to the next type of pencil, the double doors at the back of the room creak open. Still dazed in a bored stupor, Steve cranes his neck over his shoulder to see which unlucky bastard is almost an hour late to the snoozefest. 

He immediately wakes up, shooting up in his seat as if a bucket of ice water were splashed on him. He can’t believe what he sees: it’s her. Her. His barista. 

Mouth agape, he stares as she slowly closes the doors, careful not to draw too much attention to her late arrival. When nobody bothers to acknowledge her, she makes her way down the carpeted steps of the lecture hall in search of refuge in an empty seat. Her eyes dart across the aisles, desperate for just one, inconspicuous place that will draw the least attention. 

As she combs the rows with a furrowed brow and bottom lip slipping adorably between her teeth, Steve realizes he’s got some sort of a chance. Eyes dart to the professor, then back to her. Steve subtly raises a hand, waving to get her attention. Locking eyes, she finally sees him. Relief and surprise replace her bitten lip with a beaming smile. Steve’s heart soars, skipping far more than several beats. He doesn’t– he can’t– take his eyes off her as she quickly shuffles through the row of seats, plopping down next to him and dropping a tote bag at her feet. She pulls out a purple notebook and pen, slouching back into her seat with a relieved sigh, knee brushing gently against Steve’s. A ghost of the sweetest-smelling perfume drifts into his nostrils and he has the urge to replace his oxygen supply with it.

Steve feels like he’s dreaming. Cloud nine, light as a feather, the whole fucking nine yards. He skims over her features in the dim light of the lecture hall– the curve of her lips as she whispers to herself, flipping through the pages of her notebook, trying to find a blank spot; her eyelashes that flick up and down as she copies down the date and class number. He trails down her neck, crossing over the gold bar necklace she wears every day, to her shoulders and arms, her hands. When his eyes drift back up to her face, she’s staring back. Heat blooms in his cheeks and nerves constrict his chest in embarrassment. She smirks, shaking her head and turning her attention to the professor’s current ramblings on B and HB pencils. Steve opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it.

What would he even say? How would he get away with trying to talk to her in the middle of the lecture? The professor would hear him, he’d get called out, everyone would see him–

She huffs, turning to another blank notebook page. Steve side-eyes her as she quietly tears the page out and scribbles something on the first line. Side-eyeing Steve, a small smile pulls at the corners of her lips as she discreetly slides the paper over to him.

hi stranger.

Steve can’t help but grin. It spills across his lips as more heat blooms, trailing up his ears and down his neck. Trying not to seem too eager, he clicks his own pen and scrawls a response. The professor’s voice fades into background noise, going through one ear and out the other. He’s a goner and so is Steve.

YOURE THE STRANGER, STRANGER

He slides the paper back to her. She scoffs a laugh, smile growing wider. 

last minute class drop + switch. u know how it is.

TRUE. DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE AN ART KID

She shakes her head, quickly scribbling when Steve cocks his head, mouthing a ‘what?’

film kid. have to take art class for credit. only one available.

Steve’s surprised at her response, nodding once he thinks it over. It makes sense. 

She makes sense.

It fits her. It fits the way she moves, the way she carries herself, the ease in which she comes up with witty comebacks. It’s then and there Steve really thinks about the contrast between the two of them– the way he’s perceived versus how he perceives her. He’s a frat brother, a six-foot-two guy with muscles he doesn’t know how to use yet, and a lifelong artist who doesn’t fit in– no matter how much he tries to claw and fight his way out of the hole people dig and throw him in.

If anything, he doesn’t make sense. 

Brow furrowing and jaw set, Steve’s caught in the downward spiral he’s been fighting to keep at bay since coming to Richards– since he pledged his life away to Sigma Theta Beta and the never-ending identity crisis the brothers force upon him every waking moment. But, it’s with her that he feels more like himself than anywhere else in the goddamned world. It’s with her he wants to– willingly– be himself. He wants to be himself with her.

He, however, doesn’t realize the hack job he’s performing on his poor cheek tissue until a soft hand covers his, squeezing lightly. Warmth spreads like wildfire across Steve’s skin, breaking him free and bringing him back to the real world. Concern veils over his barista’s expression; her soft, searching gaze jumps between his baby blues.

‘You okay?’ she mouths, studying him, hand still on his. Her brow twitches upwards when he still doesn’t respond. Steve holds up an index finger and goes back to responding on the paper. 

SORRY. LOT ON MY MIND

She nods heavily in agreement. 

same. pencildick up there is putting me to sleep. how do you even do it?

Steve bites a laugh back. 

DRAWING, COUNTING THE CLOCK

Before she takes it back Steve adds,

AND NOW YOU.

Her smile is bright enough to light up the darkened lecture hall. 

Two whole pages are filled by the time class lets out. Front and back. 

Steve allows his barista to take the lead in following other students out of the lecture hall. Buzzing conversations reveal a shared eagerness to get the hell out of there and go spend the rest of their Thursday night doing something else more worthy of their precious time. Steve slings his bag over his shoulder as he follows close behind, verbally continuing their written conversation about her shift from earlier in the day and swapping ridiculous ways on how they’ll manage to work every type of pencil into their midterm.

As he plods next to her, Steve fights an innate urge to place a light hand on her lower back to guide her out on their way to the parking lot. Instead, he gets the door, jokingly half-bowing with an outstretched arm to the second set of double doors. Continuing out of the building, Steve takes a breath, deciding now is the perfect time to ask if she’s busy tonight. Instead, though, she stops abruptly. Steve runs directly into her, arms jutting out instinctively to steady both of them out of sheer instinct. Grabbing her shoulders, she spins around to face him, closer to his chest than either realized.

Steve feels his ears turn red again. She looks up at him, blinking before taking a step back, lips parting slightly. An awkward beat hangs in the air before Steve clears his throat and rubs his neck.

"You, uh,” he swallows, preparing himself for the inevitable, “You maybe wanna go grab a bite t’eat, or somethin’?" 

Her eyes widen, lips twitching at the corners. She looks like she’s about to answer before quickly realizing something, as if internally scolding herself for even looking excited. Pressing her lips together, her eyes dart back to her phone.

"Shit, I–" she quickly types a response and shoves it back in her pocket, exhaling in frustration. 

"What is it?"

"I would love to, Steve. I really would, but," she closes her eyes and sighs, "I can't. My sisters need me back at the house. They said it’s an ‘emergency.’" She adds sarcastic air quotes, rolling her eyes. 

"Oh!” Relief fills Steve’s chest, thankful she’s not purposefully blowing him off with some shitty excuse. “Okay, no yeah, I–I totally get it, family can be-"

She smiles softly, shaking her head and taking his hand to run a thumb over his knuckles. The gesture is so casual, so soft, yet it sends goosebumps up Steve’s arm. 

"Oh, no. No, they're not my actual sisters. They're, um, my sorority sisters." She flinches as 'sorority' leaves her lips.

Steve blanches, swallowing a disbelieving laugh. He can't help the lopsided smile spreading across his face. He can’t help taking both her hands in his and holding them in excitement. The odds of it– all of it– all the things, of all the people, she’s the one to make him feel less alone. She’s the one that understands everything.

He tries, and fails, to contain his excitement.

"No, I– I completely get it. My frat brothers are insufferable and I'm the newest pledge, so–"

It’s her turn to blanche. "You? You’re a new pledge, too?"

"Yeah, I, uh, I’m required by my scholarship–"

"Oh thank God it's not just me!"

"There's one for sisters, too?" Steve gawks. He’s truly in shock at the audacity of Richards to make any student required to endure the circle of Hell that is Greek life. He squeezes her hands. She matches him.

"Of course there is, meathead,” she snorts. “Title nine, or whatever the hell."

Steve nods. "I can’t tell you how glad I am not to be alone in this. It's fucked up, but maybe not as much now that I know you're in the same boat as me."

He pulls her ever-so-slightly closer. She lets him.

"Guess that makes you the Jack to my Rose."

Steve furrows his bro, cocking his head like a confused puppy. 

"Oh God– Don't tell me you've never seen Titanic," she gasps, feigning offense and sending Steve off course, thinking he’s fucked up somehow.

Sarcasm isn’t his strong suit.

"I, uh– no, not that I know of. I–I mean I've heard of the Titanic, but I don't remember the– well I know there's a movie, but I–" 

She laughs, full and genuine, stepping forward as her hands leave his, placing one on his shoulder. Her touch is soft, gentle, more comforting than anything he’s ever felt. 

"I'll show ya some time. Don't worry."

Squeezing his bicep, her fingertips glide down to his hand, grazing his fingers for the slightest moment before slipping between them, lacing them together. Electricity shoots up Steve's arm. Without another word she leads him out of the building, walking down the sidewalk lit by the moon rising overhead and scattered street lamps illuminating the parking lot. 

Steve decides then and there he’ll go wherever she takes him. Anywhere. Everywhere.

She stops at the edge of the parking lot and turns to him. "This is where I leave ya, my car’s over yonder.” She nods to a blue sedan with a Richards sticker on the back windshield sitting underneath one of the street lamps. “Plus, I’d like to save you walkin’ me to my car for another night.”

Butterflies. Steve nods. She scoffs a laugh.

“Text me, meathead. I'll see ya tomorrow?"

“Tomorrow.”

She releases his hand in slow motion and Steve hopes she’s relishing every bit of physical contact with him as he is with her. He heads to his own car parked in the darker side of the lot under the shadows of the perimeter trees and dimmer lamps, swaying languidly and ambling across the pavement in a trance. Steve makes a note to himself: watch more movies, because he sure feels like he's in one. 

The trance is broken when a split second of what sounds like a scream echoes over the lot and is snuffed out just as abruptly as it started. 

Steve freezes, key halfway into unlocking the driver’s side door. Ears prick up, breath held firm in his chest. Turning over his shoulder, he gasps, startled as a blue car– her car– slowly backs out from under the streetlamp and exits onto the road casually. Steve watches it disappear from view. The sound of the engine gunning it down the road leaves Steve alone in the dark, a sick uneasiness pooling in his gut.

He gets in his car, tossing his bag into the passenger seat and pulling out his phone.

You okay? Did you hear that?

Steve turns the engine over and throws the car into drive, foot hard on the brake before checking her text back. 

Hear what? I’m okay! :)

The uneasiness doesn’t leave him. She doesn’t usually text like that. 

“Fuck, get a grip, Steve,” he mutters to himself, resting his head against the steering wheel. He takes a second to gather himself and calm his nerves. The paranoia he’s been trained to feel thanks to his brothers, in combination with the fear of fucking everything up with his barista tonight, must be mixing together and clashing against every active nerve in his body. He’s fine. She’s fine.

She’s obviously driving right now, of course she wouldn’t fucking text how she normally does. She’s probably using voice text. Calm. Down.

Steve sends another text before tossing his phone into the passenger’s seat, the unease refusing to dissipate. He turns on the radio, turning up the song blasting from the speakers in a sorry attempt to silence his racing thoughts. 

No big deal. Get home safe.

His phone stays silent the rest of the night. It stays silent as he gets home, as he throws a bowl of ramen together, as he throws himself onto his bed and flips open his laptop to watch some random brainrot he finds on Netflix. 

He nods off, letting himself be taken by exhaustion as the uneaten bowl of ramen sits on his desk, growing colder, while the dim computer light and hum of dialogue pull Steve further and further into a dreamless sleep.

His phone dies silently in his hand. 

#All Tied Up #All Tied Up Series #Big Red Bow Series #Steve Rogers POV #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #modern steve rogers #artist steve rogers #college!au #modern!au #steve rogers series #slowburn #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fic #jen writes #chris evans characters #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans series #captain america x reader #fluff #angst

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 6

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/N: Reader is AFAB

A/N2: This takes place at the same time as Dream Come True Part 7

Warnings: Implied violence. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

Steve is on edge. Ransom might be trapped in his own home and the only way to find out anything was to send in a civilian. True she was on their payroll, but she’s supposed to only be on the legitimate side of things. Bucky was swearing up a storm and vowing to beat every passphrase he could into Ransom’s head so that this shit would never happen again. 

Bucky gets a phone call from Mace, Curtis’s second-in-command. He immediately puts the phone on speaker, “what’ve we got Mace?”

“Note from Ransom that reads, Lloyd is back. Has solid plans to take over everything. We’re getting our intel to confirm and find out where he’s at.”

Steve’s blood runs cold. He knew he should’ve just had Lloyd killed but he was trying to not be like the other Bosses in the other Families. He won’t make that mistake again.

Bucky follows up, “what’s the word on Teach? She safe with you guys?”

“Not yet,” Mace answered. “She sent us a photo of the note from Ransom. Haven’t heard…” There's a ruckus in the background as they hear Curtis yelling. “Give me a minute,” Mace tells them. He doesn’t hang up so Steve and Bucky are privy to the argument between Curtis and Mace. Steve finds himself unable to argue with either man as they go back and forth between priorities. He’d heard rumors Curtis was going soft for Teach but this confirmed it for him. He can’t say he wouldn’t be doing the same if Hummingbird was in danger.

“Shit,” Steve cusses, earning a look from Bucky. “We gotta get a hold of Levinson. Start moving people out of here just in case a war does break out.” 

Bucky nods as Mace gets back on the line with them. “I don’t know how much of that you heard,” Mace’s voice is cold and a little shaky, “but Curtis is taking an axe with him.”

“Fuck,” Bucky whispers. 

“We’ve gotta get a plan in motion and we can’t do that without intel,” Steve says. “I need you and your team to focus on that. If you can find Teach you will tell me her location first so I can talk Everett down. In the meantime we’re getting Levinson to start getting the more at-risk people out of here.”

Bucky nods and adds, “we’re gonna up our patrols a bit and make sure no one goes out unarmed. I’m gonna call in a few friends, Nat should be done setting up McMann’s wife, Barton says he’s been feeling on edge so he’ll be happy to hear it ain’t for nothing.”

“Stay safe, Boss,” Mace says before hanging up.

You’re getting your things ready for whatever it is Steve has planned. He’d called you earlier and told you that there was an emergency and he needed to bring you to his place for a while for safety. Hearing a knock at the door you check through the peephole first to confirm it’s Steve. You let him in and he immediately bearhugs you.

“You’ve got your things packed,” he asks. 

“Just finished.” He nods at your response and gestures for you to follow him. The entire quick walk to the car you can see he’s on alert. His shoulders are tense, every noise warrants a look or quick investigation. 

When you’re inside the car Steve seems a little more relaxed. You know from previous discussions the tinted windows are bulletproof and it looks like he’s got his best driver, Dayton White, behind the wheel. You get the impression the “emergency” he talked about means he’s in danger. 

“Is it safe to talk,” you ask, squeezing his hand.

“Technically,” he replies. “Better to wait until we’re inside.” 

You nod and hold his hand the entire trip. 

When you reach Steve’s office he starts taking and making a storm of phone calls. The primary seems to be someone named Levinson. You trust Steve to explain things so you sit and wait patiently. 

After about an hour a grizzly bear of a man comes in, “Steve, where is she?”

“Ari,” Steve greets. “She’s right there,” and he points to you. “Hummingbird, I need you to go to a safehouse out of town with Levinson.”

“Excuse me,” you ask. “I have no idea what’s going on. Why am I not safe here with you?”

Levinson looks at Steve, eyebrows raised, “you didn’t tell her anything?”

“I’ve been kinda busy,” Steve barks. He looks at you, “we’ve got a very dangerous man looking to bring us down. He will not hesitate to take out anyone that might be remotely associated with us. Ari is our best at coordinating people to get them out of danger without drawing attention, I want you to go with him.”

“Is everyone else out,” you ask.

Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, “what do you mean?” 

“I mean are the others safe already,” you reply. “The nieces and nephews? The Family members that run the legitimate businesses? Are they safe?”

“I want you out with the first few trips,” Steve orders.

“No,” you retort. “I get that I’m important to you and that puts a target on my back, but I’m not leaving and taking up Mr. Levinson’s precious time that could otherwise be spent protecting the more vulnerable Family members!”

“You’re wasting his time now,” Steve scolds. “Just go with him and do as he says so I know you’re safe!”

“I’m not the priority for escape,” you argue. “I can stay inside this fortress. Not everyone else can. Get them out first and then I’ll go!”

Steve is cut off by his phone ringing. “It’s Jensen, I gotta answer.” He keeps glaring at you, trying to stare you down as he barks, “what?!”

“We…we got Teach’s location, Boss,” Jensen stutters. “Cairo hotel on 45th and Washington.”

Steve writes as he speaks, “Cairo hotel, 45th, Washington, got it. Now get back to work on Lloyd.” He hangs up and goes to speak to you but Ari cuts him off. 

“Cairo hotel? I know the manager there. What’s going on?”

Steve takes a breath, “we’ve got a person, a civilian, who appears to have been kidnapped by Lloyd. Tracker on her phone says she’s there.”

“Well, let me give him a call and see if he can’t get her out,” Ari takes out his phone. 

Steve sighs, “and if he gives you trouble, tell him Everett’s gone Berserker and will do anything to get her out safely.”

Ari freezes at that, “holy shit. I don’t think Pine will let him in.”

“I’ll talk him down first, get him to give up his axe,” Steve assures. Ari nods and walks away to make his phone call. Steve then turns his attention to you, “and you are leaving to get somewhere safe.”

“Again, Steve,” you insist, “I am not the priority here. Let the other family go first, I’ll stay right here where you can see me, and after they’re gone, and after that poor woman gets rescued, I’ll get out. I promise.”

Steve is already worn out from the slew of arguments he’s been having so he relents, “fine. But you do not leave my sight. You stay in this room.”

“Yes, Sir,” you smile gently.

He gives you a warning look and calls up Curtis. It takes him a few tries but Everett finally answers. You can hear him yelling over the phone. “We have her location,” Steve tells him. “I’ll give it to you if you calm the hell down.”

There’s some more angry yelling before Steve gets in another word,“because if we’re not careful a lot more people will be hurt and killed. And I know you know that. The last thing we need is Berserker. Now get yourself together, Everett. Put away the axe and I’ll tell you where you can get her. Full stealth operation.”

Steve looks at you and his eyes soften, “do you really want her to see you like this?”

It must’ve done the trick because he tells Curtis what the plan is as Ari returns with some of the finer details of his friend accepting the visit. When they’re done talking Ari leaves to get others moving out of danger and Steve drops into his office chair. 

“Sounds like he’s really in love with her,” you comment. 

Steve nods, “though from what I hear he might not realize it yet.”

“They’ll figure it out soon enough, I’m sure.” You take Steve’s hand in yours. “Sometimes it can take a while.” 

He nods again, “took me a couple years to actually ask you out.”

You look into his eyes, “and it’s taken me a few extra months to say, I love you, Steve.”

His eyes are a mixture of adoration and happiness as he kisses your hand, “I love you too, Hummingbird.”

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.

#mob boss!steve rogers #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #mob!steve rogers x reader

[writer-in-theory]

The Devil Is A Gentleman — part one.

18+ ONLY - SoftDom!Eddie, Sub!Steve, Slight Feminization (Eddie calls Steve 'princess'), First Time BDSM, Aftercare, Kink Discovery/Exploration

this part is based off of this absolutely amazing art by @dreaminginpencil ✨

EDIT: read on ao3

--

"I want to try it."

Eddie's just walking through the door after the first summer session of Hellfire when Steve says it. Steve is stood in the middle of the main room, arms outstretched a little like he's forgotten what to do with them. He looks nervous, hazel eyes looking just to the left of Eddie and teeth gently biting into his lower lip.

"What're we trying, exactly?" Eddie asks, eyebrows raised as the question makes Steve shift on his feet. "Steve?"

"Your bandana," Steve gasps out, hand stretching out to gesture at Eddie's waist. "I want to try it."

"You want to try..." If anything could short circuit Eddie's brain, it was hearing Steve Harrington say that. "Stevie, what do you think you're asking to do?"

That only makes Steve blush. His cheeks are a brilliant red now, so much that Eddie might've mistaken it for a sunburn if he didn't watch the color bloom there with his own eyes.

"I—Eddie," Steve actually goddamn whines, and Eddie's just glad this was Steve's idea because that alone gives him about a dozen ideas.

"C'mon, princess, I gotta hear you say it," Eddie presses, smirking as Steve continues to shuffle on his feet.

"Robin told me what it means," Steve tells the ceiling, chin tipped up so he can focus on the crack where the Upside Down portal used to be. "Told me about the...um..."

Eddie doesn't speak, let's Steve figure this one out for himself. If they're going to be doing anything, Steve needs to at least be able to say the words. Still, Eddie can't help but feel like this is a dream, and he'll wake up any second to a Steve Harrington who couldn't possibly know what his bandana means, much less want to try it.

"She told me about the bondage, okay?" Steve shouts, panicked with hands that wave about as he explains. "And the, the pain and the dom/sub and why you have handcuffs and I want it. I want it."

"Are you sure?" Eddie presses again, taking a few steps further into the trailer until he can reach out for Steve's hands. "You don't have to do anything you're not sure about. I'm perfectly happy with what we've got going on now."

If the blush and tiny sigh are anything to go by, Steve is too.

"I'm sure," Steve answers, more resolutely than any of his other sentences have been all night. "I'm sure. I want you to dominate me, Eddie."

"Shit, Stevie," Eddie breaths out, eyes wide as he takes in what he just heard. His body has an immediate reaction, chest heating up and waves of arousal coursing through him. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

"Maybe a little," Steve says with a smirk, some of his usual confidence starting to return. "So you'll do it?"

He wants to start yesterday. "Of course, Steve," Eddie begins, tugging on Steve's hands to lead him into the bedroom. Eddie sits down on the bed, patting the spot next to him for Steve to sit too. "But with something like this, we gotta lay out some rules, okay? And you have to promise me you'll listen and follow them. There's no being a hero here, you understand?"

Brief nightmares of Steve ignoring safewords to seem strong ran unbidden through Eddie's mind, making him shake his head a little as if to physically dislodge them.

"Rules. I can do rules," Steve answers. "Like what? That I gotta stay naked around you, can't look you in the eyes? Call you Sir?"

The words force out a startled laugh from Eddie, who immediately has to shift in his seat at the image of Steve kneeling prettily in the bedroom waiting for him to come home. "Easy, baby," Eddie manages to get out, "We can't rush these things. We'll start off easy."

"Easy," Steve repeats, as though he were testing out the word on his mouth.

"You have to tell me if you like or don't like something," Eddie tells him, reaching out with thumb and forefinger to hold onto Steve's chin. He sees the reaction immediately—Steve's pupils widen as a sharp little exhale sounds from his parted lips. "I don't want to keep doing anything you're not enjoying, got it?"

Steve nods. "I need words, Steve. That's rule number one, if you can't answer me, I'm stopping."

"Tell you if I don't like something. Answer you when you ask me something. Got it."

"You're already doing so good, Stevie," Eddie coos, smirking at the shaky breath Steve lets out at that. "This is all about communication, okay? We'll have to talk more later about the details, but for now if you want to dip your toes in..."

"Yes, yes please," Steve rushes to say, nodding as well as he can with Eddie's grip on his chin. "Please, Eddie."

"Okay, okay, sweet boy," Eddie says, chuckling at his enthusiasm, "I've got you."

Normally when they kiss, there's a little fight for dominance. Now, when Eddie kisses Steve he lets him, moaning as Eddie playfully nips his lower lip. It's only when Steve reaches out for Eddie's waist that he stops, keeping that firm hold on Steve's chin and pulling back enough to look him in the eyes.

"Who said you could touch me, Stevie?" Eddie asks, his voice a little harder than before, rougher.

"I—" Steve licks over his reddened lips, letting out a little keening noise that goes straight to Eddie's dick. "Eddie, please. Wanna touch you."

"Nuh uh, Stevie," Eddie laughs with just the right amount of condescension to make Steve pout. "Who's in charge tonight?"

"You are," Steve says, eyes looking down enough to conceal them from Eddie.

"Let's try that again, princess," Eddie says, tapping Steve's chin until he gets the man's full focus again. How had Eddie gone this long without seeing Steve like this, already nearly ready to melt with pleasure before they'd really done anything? "You can be a good boy for me, right, Stevie? I know you can, so focus real hard for me. Who's in charge tonight?"

Steve's eyes never waver from his own, his voice strong as he answers, "You're in charge, Eddie. I'm yours."

"Yes you are." Eddie grins, reaching out to swipe his hand through Steve's hair. Steve leans into the contact, a little noise falling from his lips that Eddie tucks away for later. "You're all mine tonight, Stevie. So why don't you keep being good and take your shirt off, come keep my lap warm."

Steve, for all his credit, moves quickly. He practically rips off his t-shirt, tossing it somewhere into the chaos of their bedroom. He's slower to climb into Eddie's lap, barely hovering until Eddie grabs his hips and rolls him forward until their clothes cocks brush. Steve's unable to stop the groan that he lets out, head tipping back a little from the sensation.

"Good boy, Stevie," Eddie tells him, reaching up with one hand to idly brush his fingers over one of Steve's nipples. When Steve starts to squirm in his lap, Eddie lightly pinches it until Steve keens, bucking his hips into Eddie's. "Here's what we're going to do. Paying attention?"

"Yes, Eddie." Steve is gorgeous like this, already looking fucked out, hazel eyes staring at Eddie like they're the only people who exist in the world.

"Doing okay?"

"Yes, Eddie."

"Alright. We're going to play a little game. You were a varsity athlete, you love games, don't you, princess," Eddie teases, unable to help the urge to pinch Steve's nipple again just to hear that whine again.

"Eddie," Steve groans, hands starting to grab at Eddie's arms but hovering in the air when he realizes he can't touch.

"Oh, what a good boy you are," Eddie croons, reaching out for Steve's hands. He pulls them behind Steve's bare back, crisscrossing them just at the butt of his jeans. He holds on just tight enough that Steve couldn't easily escape his hold, an improved version of cuffs. "Just for that I'll make it a little easier on you."

"I want to make you feel good, Stevie," Eddie tells him, smirking at the excited nod Steve gives in response. "Not so fast, sweet boy. You have to tell me when you think you're getting close to cumming, okay? Think you can do that for me?"

Steve nods again.

"Words, baby," Eddie reminds him.

"Yes, fuck, yes please Eddie just," Steve tries to get out, practically moaning the words out. "Please."

Eddie can't wait anymore. He starts to rock them at their hips, pulling with their hands so their cocks slide together through their jeans. It's immediate shockwaves of pleasure, and normally Eddie would pick up the pace but he wants to tease Steve a little, see how worked up he can make him. So for now, he keeps them at an even, casual rhythm.

"Eddie," Steve moans out, hands tugging at Eddie's hold on them before his head tips all the way back, exposing his neck to Eddie.

"You're doing so good for me, princess," Eddie tells him, letting out his own groan of arousal. It still feels like a dream, getting to see Steve fall apart under his hands. He's the only one who gets to see Steve Harrington like this—blissed out and doe eyes swimming with tears from the pleasure. "Are you close, Stevie? How're you feeling?"

"Good, so good, Eddie," Steve moans out, tilting his head forward so their foreheads nearly brush when Eddie rocks them. "Please, I'm gonna, I need to—"

"I know, baby, I know," Eddie tells him gently while gripping Steve's hands tighter, pulling them just a littler further apart as if to restrain him more, "I've got you, Stevie, you're doing so good for me."

"Eddie," Steve cries out, hips stuttering a little as he tries to speed up the pace, tries to dig in a little harder to get more stimulation. "Please! You're teasing me."

"That's kind of the idea, sweetheart," Eddie chuckles, though obliges him and presses their hips together harder. "C'mon, Stevie. Cum for me, I know you can do it. Be my good boy."

Steve lets out a little cry at that, rolling his hips. His head leans forward, their foreheads pressed together. Under any other circumstances, Eddie might've teased him for the sweat matting down his hair, but now the thought only pushes Eddie closer to the edge.

Eddie feels the moment Steve tips over the edge himself, his soft panting turning into the hottest fucking wail Eddie's ever heard as his hips stutter, pressing against Eddie. "Fuck, Eddie," he gasps out, head lowering so he can hide it in Eddie's neck, "Fuck."

The moment Steve's body relaxes against him, Eddie releases Steve's hands. He reaches up, one arm wrapped around Steve's back and the other coming up to brush through his hair. The best goddamn hair Eddie's ever seen, though he'd never admit it to the man.

"You did so good for me, baby," Eddie tells him, "You're so good. My good boy, Stevie. Why don't we get you out of those jeans, okay?"

"Wait," Steve gasps, leaning back with wild eyes, like he'd suddenly forgotten something. "You didn't—"

"Don't need to, Stevie, seeing you like this is good enough for me tonight," Eddie promises, cradling the side of Steve's face with his hand. He's sure he could coo with how sweetly Steve leans into the touch, the other man's eyes fluttering closed and a small smile pulling his lips. "Just wanna take care of you tonight, I promise."

And he does. He carries Steve to the little bathroom, holding him up in the shower so they can clean up. Steve doesn't say much, but Eddie does. He keeps talking to him, telling him how good Steve had done and how happy tonight had made him. It's only until they're wrapped up in comfy clothes cuddling in bed that Steve talks again. Eddie's body is pressed close to Steve's back, arms wrapped tightly around him in a close hug. Eddie's sure neither of them have ever felt so safe.

"Did you really like it?" Steve whispers, fingers drawing little patterns into Eddie's arm. Sometimes he likes to trace Eddie's tattoos, fascinated with the ink sunken deep in his skin.

"Did I really like it," Eddie repeats with a playful scoff. "Steve, you amaze me every day and this was no exception. That was incredible."

"Okay, good," Steve breaths out, as though that could ever be a real worry. "I liked it too. Can you tie up my hands next time?"

"Fuck, Stevie," Eddie nearly groans, shaking his head against the picture that sends to his mind. "Absolutely, always. We'll talk about it tomorrow, lay out some more ground rules. There's more I have to tell you about all this, but yes, fuck yes."

Eddie falls asleep that night wondering how he got quite so lucky to have found someone as incredible as Steve. And Steve, well, he's wondering the same thing about his own luck.

--

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#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie smut #dom!eddie munson #sub!steve harrington #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #steve x eddie #jay writes in theory #afterdark #this is entirely unedited i'm not sorry about it

[sarucane]

Why didn't Ed always protect Stede?

I'm a bit late to the party and only really got into OFMD with S2, so I've started watching S1 really thoroughly only recently. And I've noticed that there's this narrative in the fandom that Ed and Stede are super protective of each other, particularly Ed--but as I've gone through S1 (number redacted) times, it's been driving me nuts how much Ed doesn't protect Stede.

Sure, there's the meme we all love when Ed stands in front of the firing squad--but for most of the scene before that, he's been standing and watching Stede beg for his life. He's upset, but he doesn't intervene until it's nearly do late. And before that, Ed doesn't say or do a thing about Calico Jack treating Stede like shit--sure it's believable that he just doesn't notice the passive aggression, but not even catching the "Steve" thing? That's something that isn't even intervening, Jack could be making an honest mistake. But the thing no-protection moment that's really driven me nuts is this moment

In the scene before this, Ed and Stede have just had an incredibly emotionally intimate conversation. Ed is clearly at least half in love with Stede at this point. This is a relationship that means something important to him, this is a person he cares for deeply. And…and Izzy almost murdered Stede in front of him, because of him, and he just looked away.

But at the same time, Ed does love Stede, he does intervene to protect him from the English--at great personal risk and cost. By the end of S2 Ed's much better about this kind of thing (though I'd argue he's never as super-protective as I've seen suggested).

So what was going on here? Ed's a total softie inside, especially with Stede, so why was he like this?

And I've got a theory! Here goes:

Mr. "greatest pirate who ever lived" is, in fact, an overachieving rule-follower (cough teacher's pet cough).

Ed doesn't intervene to help Stede because Ed conforms himself to the rules set by whoever has the strongest personality in a room, or whatever "code" is being pushed on him/is easiest to follow.

I think this is part of why Ed often struggles to identify what he wants, or hold onto a firm sense of his self-identity. And I think it's a lot of why he's so attracted to Stede, and why that relationship is so important to his development: Ed is much less likely to follow the rules when he's one-on-one with someone, and spending a lot of time alone with Stede gives him much more mental space to understand what he wants.

And just like Stede is most successful when he doesn't try to follow the traditional rules of pirating, Ed is most successful--in his relationship with Stede and outside it--when he doesn't obsess over bending to the rules, and instead picks and chooses which ones to follow and which ones to discard.

I have a partly-written super-long version of this where I go episode by episode looking at how the rules theme works with Ed's character mechanics, but I'm just going to focus on the topic question here (I might get around to posting the long version, but I also might be distracted by something shiny;) )

So let's start with The Art of Fuckery and the thing that was driving me crazy.

Ed's core conflict in this episode was whether he'd going to send Stede to "doggy heaven." Why would he follow Stede to doggy heaven? Because according to Izzy, Stede is categorized as a pet, and Ed has "a policy regarding pets aboard your vessel." It's a rule. Ed has to follow it.

And Ed fully intends to follow it, right up until the kraken turns up and the rules go out the window. And then he's in a safe space with Stede, drowning in memory of the good rules he broke (don't kill people you love). But Stede rejects the idea that Ed breaking that rule makes him a bad person. He appeals, instead, to friendship. And offers his own rule: that they could pretend the murder thing never happened.

Because that's the amazing thing about Stede: he lives at the intersection of aristocratic and pirate rules (which isn't supposed to exist, and which drew Ed to him), and he makes up his own rules.

When Ed's with Stede, he can follow different rules, unlike anything he'd imagined. Can even sometimes make up his own rules. Can actually pay attention to himself, think about what he wants, what he likes and fears.

But when Ed's in a crowd, or alone with someone trying to impose something on him, he conforms. So when Izzy invokes Pirate Rules and steamrolls Ed ("no you're not doing this,") Ed lets him.

It's a character flaw, and it's a serious one...but it's also one Ed works on when he stops complaining about the treasure hunt business. And when he and Stede discuss the idea of co-captains, and arrangement that would break the rule that "a ship has only one captain."

Which Ed is able to do because he's in a safe space. Calico Jack disrupts that, and introduces a succession of games with clearly defined rules, which Ed follows one after another. And Ed has so little self-awareness, is so easily swamped by Jack's personality, that he doesn't notice how Jack's treating Stede, let alone defend him, and he bows to every hint of pressure.

And all that culminates in Ed having to make a decision: follow pirate rules, where everyone's just at "various stages of screwing each other over," or do what he wants. Go help his friend, the guy he loves.

Which just ends up with him being absorbed right back into the pirate system of rules. He tries to use this at first, faking a confession on the grounds that he's a "life is cheap sort of guy." But Izzy's outsmarted him, and Izzy invokes pirate rules again: that Ed told him the rule for a first mate was "above all loyalty to your captain."

Ed doesn't call out for the Act of Grace until the last minute. He could have done it at the trial--he didn't. This is a hard thing for him to do, because he's surrounded by rule-following pressure, from Izzy and from Chauncy. The last time he was in a situation like this, Ed just looked away and let Stede die (he thought).

But the thing about Ed is that he's "half insane." For years, he used the combo of being considered "mad" and also having Izzy around to have his cake and eat it too with rules, to be the world's greatest pirate and also hang onto his own authentic self.

As a result, Ed got good at finding loopholes. Places where you can follow the rules and break them, at the same time. Getting run through, but in a place that missed "all the important bits." Being sentenced to death, but asking for an Act of Grace.

It's a big deal when Ed steps in front of Stede like that. He's acting against pirate rules, risking being absorbed by the rules set by the English.

He does it for Stede--and that starts to set him free. After that, Ed's never just following the rules again. He actually can't, even when he tries: his going kraken at the end of S1 and start of S2 is doomed from the start and full of contradictions, starting with the fact that he's on Stede's ship, the ship with hidden passages where rule-breaking can be hidden until it's needed.

Ed struggles a lot to figure out which rules to follow ("I will abide by the guidelines"), which rules to set aside ("Can we take it slow?"), when to make up his own rules ("So we're innkeepers now."). And Stede helps him, telling him things like "This can be whatever we want it to be," and "you're not a dick, life's a dick."

I don't really have a clever conclusion to this particular meta. It's a messy thing, and individual figuring out how to their life does and does not intersect with society. This theme doesn't resolve neatly, it just stops at the end of the season, like the tension between Ed/kraken/Blackbeard.

But there's a lot of hope here, I think. When Ed acts to protect Stede, and to fight alongside him, he's not just being a protective partner. It's a learned action, the physical manifestation of a decision Ed's made about who he wants to be in the world. Rules be damned.

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd #ofmd s2 #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #ed teach #stede bonnet #blackbonnet #izzy hands #gentlebeard #i swear there really is a much longer version of this this theme is hella iceberg #every single episode has references to rules guys this is A THEME running straight through EVERYTHING and i'm a moron for missing its size