#a lil bit cause there’s an answer about Steve

[strangersteddierthings]

Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

The saving grace for Steve here is that all eyes are on Eddie, so no one witnesses how he freezes, just for a moment, when Eddie tells them who the 'she' is he's been referring to. How he just wanted to help her. Help Chrissy. Whatever Eddie has been saying has turned to buzzing, to white noise, to nonsense in the background of his mind.

He has to be wrong. Mistaking some other girl for Chrissy. Because it can't be Chrissy. It can't. Steve has worked so hard to keep his family away from the Upside Down shit. She couldn't be- there's no way she somehow got caught up in it. There's too many questions and not enough answers and when did the air get too thick to fit in his lungs?

Does Gareth know?

Gareth, who Steve knows is one of Eddie's friends and here Eddie sits before him, a witness to Upside Down shit. A witness to a murder they have no clue how to solve. Gareth, who isn't exactly friends with Mike, Dustin, and Lucas, but who is in the same club as them and on friendly terms. That's too many people connected to the Upside Down in Gareth's personal circle for Steve to be okay with.

He thought this was done. That they wouldn't ever have to deal with this shit again.

Eddie is still talking as the pounding in Steve's ears fades and he listens as Eddie swears, he just wanted to help, that she seemed so freaked out by something, and Steve's insides twist and churn. Why hadn't Chrissy come to him? Just last week he was at her house, hanging out and catching up. She never mentioned an issue. A problem. Something that would cause her to seek out heavier drugs than weed.

They used to tell each other everything. What changed?

His stomach drops as the answer comes to him.

He did.

He'd changed. He started keeping secrets first. Pushed Chrissy and Gareth away after that first incident and hadn't really started to let them back in until after Starcourt. He'd just wanted to keep them safe. Keep them as far away from this horror as possible. He'd ended the weekend sleepovers because of his nightmares, stopped inviting them over to hang out by the pool because he can't look at it without thinking about Barb, started avoiding them at school when he'd ended up beat to shit by Billy because he knew they'd dig for more answers than he could give.

No wonder Chrissy didn't tell him anything was wrong.

There's no way for Steve to know if he could have helped or not, even if Chrissy had talked to him. Eddie doesn't have answers; just a story.

Steve hates him a little bit. It's irrational. Eddie didn't do this Chrissy, (even if he had been arguing that point at Family Video) but it doesn't stop the anger inside him from boiling up. He doesn't act on it, of course he doesn't, he's not that person anymore.

Plus, acting on it would kind of negate everything Dustin just convinced Eddie of, such as he's not crazy and they do believe him, and Steve's not about to undo what Dustin's accomplished by taking Eddie by the vest and shoving him against the wall in a reverse of earlier. It wouldn't do any good, not now that they're all sure it's a new, unknown threat from the Upside Down that they'll have to figure out on their own.

No. Taking his anger out on Eddie won't solve anything.

He can be mad about this later.

It does sit heavy on him, though, that he doesn't think anyone in this boathouse knows Chrissy was his cousin. That the Upside Down has taken someone from Steve this time. He can't tell them. Robin wouldn't take it well, and Dustin might not either. They'll be sad for him, and he can't handle that right now.

He can mourn later.

-

Remember the fun lil fic of Gareth not wanting his cousins, Chrissy Cunningham and Steve Harrington, to ruin his street cred in high school? Well, the fun is done. Have some angst. More parts will follow but it's not really a fic? Just... disjointed scenes, rewritten from canon to fit the cousin AU.

[taintedcigs]

how do you think stevie would act around shy and inexperienced reader? like would he tease her about being shy or? <3

omg if u were dating/friends he totally would!!!!😭 he’s such a lil shit i love him💗 idk if this is what u wanted but!!! also this turned dirty so quick im sawrry😔 warnings: nothing much but kinda smut (it is insinuated)!!! but rlly not, 18+ ofc as all my other works<3

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“How does this look?” You hummed, exiting the fitting room as you looked at the mirror.

Tip-toeing as you adjust the emerald dress that fit you perfectly, your curves were showing and your breasts were squeezed tight together.

You fidgeted with the hem of the dress nervously, your usual clothes didn’t fit you this well, and the dress was a little too revealing, avoiding eye contact as you awaited Steve’s input anxiously.

Your head cocked toward Steve’s direction when he didn’t answer, he was leaning against the wall, mouth agape as he looked at you dumbfoundedly.

Your mind reveled before you could help it, the idea that Steve thought you looked ridiculous was planted in your head now and you wanted to disappear.

“Holy shit,” He murmured, gaze lingering on you as he traced your curves, trying to memorize every part of you, gulping as he shook his head in disbelief.

The thought of Steve not liking it made you frown. “W–what?” You stuttered, looking down on your dress again shyly.

“You have no fucking idea how insane you make me, baby.” He whispered as he inched closer to you, hands itching as they grabbed onto your hips, making you squeal.

“Steve!” You chided, giggling.

“You look perfect, honey.” He added, planting soft kisses on your exposed skin.

“So perfect,” He muttered and now you were sure you could feel the heat on your cheeks.

“Drivin’ me crazy.” He groaned as he planted a sloppy kiss on your lips and you mewled.

“We’re in public, Stevie.” You warned, but it wasn’t convincing at all.

“So?” He shrugged, causing you to look around.

“So… you can’t do all of… this.” You murmured, voice growing quieter and quieter.

A smug smirk appeared on his lips, “What can’t I do, princess?” He mocked, pouting.

Before you could answer his hands travelled from your hips to your ass quickly, giving it a quick squeeze causing you to yelp, “Steve!” You lightly slapped his shoulder, causing him to chuckle.

You bit your lower lip, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you rubbed your thighs together out of need, Steve took notice of that quickly and tilted his head slightly.

“My perfect girl, mhmm.” He whispered in your ear as his fingers ghosted over your thighs which were trembling at this point.

You gasped softly when he did so, cheeks growing hotter with each of his movements. “Some—someone is going to see.” You stuttered, cocking your head to see if anyone else was there, and Steve took this as an opportunity to give your neck sloppy kisses.

You mewled under his touch and Steve chuckled darkly, “Stevie!” You breathed, warning him again and he faced you.

His gaze was intense and yours was so innocent that he felt bad for teasing you this much, he gave you a warm smile as he pulled his hand away.

You whined. “I’m just teasin’ honey,” He winked, causing you to let out a nervous giggle as you felt your cheeks heating up, for the 100th time.

“So… what do you think?” You asked with the biggest smile on your face as you gave Steve a twirl, causing his eyes to widen.

He admired you with a look of sheer awe in his eyes, you were gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous.

And you looked angelic in that tight dress, making Steve dizzy.

“Perfect, honey.” He said, gaze never wavering from you.

“You are totally getting that dress.” His eyes darkened with lust.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna fuck you in it.”

[stvharrngton]

fuck about it

a/n: a lil something inspired by fuck about it by waterparks. this will be a two parter so stay tuned for part 2!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, dom!steve vibes, exes to friends with benefits, unresolved feelings, steve is a lil bit of an asshole 🤭

taglist: @dukesmebby @inkluvs @sweetbabygirlsworld

I like you but I need some space

Three days. All you wanted was three days. Three days alone. Three days without running into him.

Your situation was sticky. Messy. You almost wished you would have listened to your head before getting in a relationship with one of your friends, who was in turn friends with all of your other friends.

He was impossible to escape, not like you would ever want to. His face and everything about him was addicting, relationship or not. Sure, everything would certainly be easier if you didn’t decide to stay friends with a certain set of benefits but what could you say? He just knew how to push your buttons.

You found your thoughts drifting to him as you sat in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van, en route to some lame party you were sure.

“Anyone we know gonna be at this party, Eds?” You pondered out loud, gaze focused at the street zooming by outside the window.

“Well, uh–” he mumbled in response, hand coming to scratch as the back of his neck. He didn’t need to answer as he pulled into the driveway of some rich kids house, side by side with a familiar burgundy BMW.

“Oh,” you groaned, head rolling to the side to get a look at Eddie sporting a sheepish grin, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” his eyes not quite meeting your gaze, “knew you wouldn’t come if I told you he was gonna be here.”

He was right, you wouldn’t have. But you were here now and the cherry vodka inside was calling your name. So you bounded out of the van, pulling Eddie along with you inside the house, making a beeline for the kitchen.

Two drinks later and you were buzzed, cheeks a little rosy and head a little fuzzy. You’d somehow managed to avoid Steve all night which you didn’t know how to feel about. Usually, he’d sniff you out in an instant, hands snaking up your waist, lips on your ear, whispering something filthy. Something brazen before dragging you upstairs.

But not tonight.

You saw him out of the corner of your eye, whilst some other guy’s hands were on your hips, swaying to the beat of the loud pop music. He was leant up against the wall, beer in hand, some pretty girl by his side. Her hand was on his chest, their bodies dangerously close together. Her head was thrown back in a fit of laughter but Steve was only inching in closer to the girl, his lips millimeters away from her own.

By the time you blinked they were kissing, his large hands smoothing over the curve of her ass, her fingers tangled in his hair. You felt a pang to your chest, and you had no right to feel jealous, you knew that, but it still hurt seeing him with other people.

You caught his eye when he finally pulled away from the girl, a sly look on his face as he wiggled his fingers at you in a wave. You rolled your eyes as you left the poor guy on the dancefloor, marching into the kitchen with Steve trailing behind you.

Cause you don’t seem to like it when we talk

Pouring yourself another drink, Steve leant beside you on the counter as you did, “Didn’t know you were coming tonight.” He said with a shrug.

“Came with Munson.” You replied, taking a sip, eyes boring into Steve’s big brown ones over the rim of the plastic cup.

Steve scoffed at that, taking the cup from your hand and taking a sip of his own, “What, you fucking Eddie now?”

“I think you know the answer to that, Steve.” You snarked at him, snatching your drink back from his hand.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to that girl anyway? The pretty one?” You said, shooting him a coy look. Your finger poking at his firm chest.

“Nah,” he shrugged, “wasn’t really that into her.” Steve let his fingers wander up your bare arm, brushing against your goose pimpled skin, moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“No?” You questioned, “Or you just didn’t wanna tell her that you still fuck your ex? Hm, Harrington?”

Steve chuckled, the kind of laugh that kept you on your toes, the kind that had you eager to find out what else he had in store for you.

“Wasn’t as pretty as you.” Was all he said, leaning in closer to you, his breath fanning across your cheeks. His hands now sitting pretty on your waist.

“Yeah? Then why’d you break up with me, Steve?” He pulled away from you, hands still clutching your waist, a subtle frown tugging at his lips. “That’s right, I remember,” you rolled your eyes, a playful, yet hurt tone lacing your voice, “we don’t talk when something’s wrong.”

Steve rolled his eyes, a smirk painting his face as he shook his head, eyes lowering to the floor, “Talking’s boring, much prefer seeing you on your knees with your mouth open,” Steve spoke quietly, lips against your ear, “I’ll see you later, yeah?” He breathed against your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as the close proximity, his lips finally pressing to yours in a soft kiss.

We can fuck about it later, if you want

I’ll see you later. The words rang in your ears yet they were always true. You would always end up here. Back pressed up against Steve’s bedroom wall, legs wrapped around his waist, his lips hot on your neck.

Your shirt hanging off a lamp somewhere in his room, your skirt pushed high up your hips. Your fingers were in Steve’s unruly hair, tugging on the soft strands. He groaned into your neck at the gesture, teeth nipping at your skin.

“Why do we— fuck,” you moaned, “why do we always end up here, Steve?” Your head rolled back against the wall, mouth hanging agape as Steve began to move his lips south, mouthing at the skin spilling out of the cups of your bra.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, sweetheart,” he cooed, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, “you don’t wanna get fucked, huh? Got someone else, is that it, baby?”

You laughed cynically, the sound pulling the boy out of the trance your tits induced him in, “You know I haven’t, Steve.”

“That’s the right answer,” Steve let his lips ghost over yours, exhaling into your mouth, “good girl.”

A whimper squeaked from your throat, skin hot and arousal pooling at your core. You gnawed on your bottom lip as Steve began to grind his crotch into you, his bulge pressing into where you needed him.

“Why? Would you be jealous if there was, Harrington?” You breathed with a smirk, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Steve sucked harshly on your nipple through the lace of your bra.

“No,” he grunted, face buried in your chest, “just hope you know who this pussy belongs to.”

He moved you to the bed now, setting you down on the sheets as he bowed to his knees on the floor. Flipping the pleats of your skirt up your stomach, Steve’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the little damp patch on your pink cotton panties. He swallowed thickly as he leaned in closer, pressing a small kiss followed by a lick of his tongue to your covered cunt.

“Fuck.” You whined.

Steve loved to tease. Thrived for it, rather. Lived for the way you would ramble on, strung out moans trembling from your lips, begging for him to do something, anything. He loved the way your eyes would go all hazy, a little glassy, lips red from how hard you had to bite down on them.

You whimpered and whined and Steve continued to lick and suck at you over your panties, the material now surely soaked. It was all so hot and dirty, your legs shaking either side of Steve’s head, his large palms holding your soft thighs in place.

He groaned into your cunt, slender fingers finally pulling the cotton to the side, Steve’s skilled tongue finally making contact with your dripping pussy. You moaned loudly at the gesture, your fingers flying to his hair, tugging on the soft strands.

Steve chuckled as he pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he plunged two digits into your hole, pumping them in and out.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Steve cooed mockingly, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly on the bud. His fingers picked up the pace, curling and hitting that spot with every stroke. The sound of Steve’s fingers fucking in and out of your wetness mixed in with your strangled moans the only sound bouncing off the walls of Steve’s bedroom.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck,” you cried, hips bucking off the mattress, trying to meet the thrusts of Steve’s fingers, “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Hmm,” Steve pondered, eyebrows pinched together as his thumb rubbed at your clit, “I think only good girls get to cum, no?” His fingers never relented as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your hands now fisting the sheets.

“Steve, please,” you breathed, eyes glassy and pleading as you looked down at the boy happily situated between your legs, a cruel smirk donning his lips.

“Y’gonna be good? Tell me who this pussy belongs to?” Steve quipped, eyes fixated on where his fingers were disappearing in and out of you.

“Yes– fuck! I’ll be good,” you moaned, back arching off the bed, on the cusp of your orgasm, one more stroke of Steve’s fingers, one more filthy word and you’d be a goner.

“What else?” Steve asked, matter of factly, desperately trying to ignore how his cock was straining against his jeans, fingers beginning to slow.

“Please,” you whined, eyes screwing together tightly, “yours! It’s yours, Steve.”

“Atta girl,” he cooed, Steve’s fingers picking up their pace once more. His lips wrapping around your clit, one hand clasping the sheets, the other hand found its way into Steve’s hair, tugging on the locks.

“Y’wanna cum, pretty?” He asked, fingers curling, tongue lapping at your throbbing nub.

Steve always found it so easy to switch, cruel and teasing in the build up but always found himself spilling pet names and praise when you were on the verge.

“Come on, I know you wanna cum. Think you can do that for me, sweet girl?”

“Oh,” you moaned, back arching, hips bucking up off the mattress, essentially grinding your pussy against Steve’s mouth, “right there, Steve, Jesus, ‘m gonna—“

Stars. Bright white stars circling your vision. Skin hot and clammy, every muscle in your body tense and trembling. You cried out the boy’s name as you came, chest panting and gasping for air.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, totally in awe of your spent form before him. pussy and thighs soaked, dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

He pressed a sweet kiss to your thigh as you came down from your high, leaning back on his heels as he worked to unbuckle his belt. Steve rid himself of his jeans and boxers as quick as he could, hands smoothing their way up your body.

“Roll over for me, doll,” Steve whispered against your chest, “need to get my cock inside that pretty pussy, that okay?”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, scrambling to your elbows as you rolled over and propped yourself up on the bed. You heard Steve rip open a foil wrapper before spitting into his palm from behind you, a quiet groan tumbling from his soft lips as he lubed himself up.

You felt his large hand grip your hip, the other wrapped around his cock, the tip swiping through your folds. You whimpered at the motion, desperate to have him buried inside you to the hilt. Steve chuckled at your reaction, a smirk donning his features as he pressed his cock into your entrance.

You cried out in pleasure at the feeling, Steve halting his movements, “Oh, what’s wrong baby?” He teased, hand stroking over the curve of your ass, “My cock too big for this little pussy, hm?”

You buried your face in the sheets, hands clawing at the material as Steve’s cock stretched you out. You mumbled something that resembled a ‘no’ into the sheets in response to the boy, eyes squeezed tightly as he thrust into you inch by inch.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, “cause you’re gonna take it anyway, right?”

You tried to ignore the feeling in your stomach, the butterflies that flew from your gut to your heart as those words left Steve’s mouth, or rather your ex-boyfriend’s mouth. It was bitter sweet, those words sent a shiver down your spine and a flutter to your pussy. But all but reminded you that you weren’t his girl and it was strictly his cock talking.

Steve’s palm came down against your ass as he picked up the pace, his thrusts slow and deep, his hips slapping against you with every move. You wished you could see him right now, you knew he’d look so blissful. Head thrown back in pleasure, hair a tousled mess, lips parted and cheeks flushed pink.

You moaned loudly as Steve’s thrusts grew harsher, thick fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, tips pressing in hard, surely leaving pretty bruises for the morning. Next you knew he was towering over you, lips on your shoulder blades, his arms finding their way around your front, his hand cupping your cheek.

Steve’s mouth found your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe before he spoke, “Pussy feels so good, and it’s all for me, yeah?” Steve whispered as his kisses found your neck, “Aren’t I the luckiest guy in the whole world.”

“Steve,” you moaned, craning your neck in a desperate attempt to catch his lips with your own. Failing miserably as Steve began to thrust faster, the frame of his bed shaking with every movement, his hips snapping against your ass.

“Fuck,” you whined instead, a strangled moan that was hiding at the back of your throat. Much smaller fingers curling around his own beside your head, your eyes fluttering closed as you tried to ignore the pressure building in your lower stomach.

Steve’s thrusts never relented, not for one second, cock fucking in and out of your sopping hole, the sounds of your wetness filling the room. His voice was gruff and raspy every time he spoke and it just turned you on more, you were sure the sheets were drenched.

“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” He asked, Steve’s skin clammy against your back, his chest hair prickling your skin, “Does it feel too good? You like when I fuck you like it’s gonna be the last time?”

Ex-boyfriend Steve Harrington was always a little bit of an asshole during your hookup encounters. Always a little too cocky, a tad too confident. That was clear when your brain regained full clarity. It would never be the last time though, you both knew that, always trying your hardest to stay single so you could fall into each other’s beds as soon as the clock hit midnight.

“Yes,” you whined, “yes, God—, I love it when you fuck me like this, Stevie.”

The boy moaned in response, low and rough. One hand slithered down the side of your body, inching closer to your clit. “Can’t get enough of you,” he started, fingers stroking over the nub as you hiked up your hips to allow him better access, “can’t get enough of this pussy.”

You could only moan out his name, all coherent thoughts out the window as he began to rub at your clit. That combined with his hard and deep thrusts were bringing you closer to the edge. You knew Steve was close too, his thrusts growing sloppy, his moans getting longer and louder were all tell tale signs.

“Wanna cum, Steve,” you breathed, “please?” You were never shy to beg when it came to Steve. You knew he loved it, and you always liked to please.

“Yeah? Wanna cum all over my cock?” He asked, fingers picking up their pace, “wanna make a mess together?”

Steve knew he couldn’t last much longer, your pussy felt too good, your moans too sweet to his ears. As soon as you moaned out a pleading ‘please’ from beneath, he was relentless.

Fingers rubbing at your clit, cock fucking in and out of you at lightning pace, the boy working fast to get you both to orgasm. You soon felt the metaphorical tether snap, your body became hot and clammy as you saw stars. Vision white hot as you cried out Steve’s name, fingernails leaving sweet crescent shapes in his hands.

Steve wasn’t far behind you, all the muscles in his body tensing as his toes curled in the carpet. Hot cum releasing from his cock as he came undone, “Oh,” he groaned, “fuckfuckfuck,” he chanted. He chest heaving against your back as you both collapsed on the bed.

The boy huffed a laugh as he came down from his high, pulling himself from you with a hiss. He rid himself of the condom as he disappeared to the bathroom.

He’d put you both to bed, in a t-shirt that wasn’t your own, where you’d try your best to fall asleep, trying not to think about the unresolved feelings you still had for one another.

And then you’d wake the next morning, and torture each other all over again like nothing would ever change.

[sadie-bug345]

Ok so can I maybe get greasers headcanons with an absolute academic weapon s/o (think Rory Gilmore/annabeth chase/Devi Vishwakumar) who’s parents like make them get all A’s and they are very Ivy League bound, always dressing in blazers/looking very sharp and corporate and super ambitious? (Probs academic rivals with pony lowkey 💀) Thanks so much lmao I think Dallys is going to be 🔥🔥

YESSS 🫶🫶 i myself am an academic weapon🧐(JK LMAO ap physics has made me lose my will to live) ANYWAYS

ponyboy:

yall are actually so cute together ngl

like you guys study for tests together and do hw together

cause you guys are in the same honors classes and stuff

some days pony will get cocky and be like “i’m so much better than you at bio” or smth like that (🙄)

and then you guys get into competitions to see how many times you can get correct answers in class it’s actually crazy

everyone else in class is like 😟 LMAOO

sodapop:

soda is a little on the dumber side😭

im sorry i feel like its canon that he’s a lil slower

WHICH IS OK

but he’ll try and watch you do hw and then get bored like instantly

that or confused

he always says “i was good at math til they added letters🤓☝️”

and you’re just like🥱

LMAO you guys are good for each other tho

cause you convince him to prioritize some form of learning

and he helps you let loose

johnny:

he is honestly really sweet🫶

like understanding when you turn down hangouts cause you got final exams and you cram like crazy

but he also loooves just chilling in your room while you do homework

his catchphrase is “just ask the teacher tomorrow, man”

and you’re just like “🧍‍♀️ it’s a friday night”

anyways he’s just really supportive and proud when you come back with all As on your report card🙏😜🤩

darry:

HE GETS IT

he is real supportive

hes all abt that grind as we know PLUS he canonically gets on pony for his grades

so he’s glad that he don’t gotta worry at all abt that for you

he’s so proud and happy when you get a good score on a test you were worried about and yall go on a lil date night🫶🙏

dally:

he couldn’t care less i’m sorry😭🥱

like DONT GET ME WRONG

hes secretly like super impressed and proud to have a smart asf s/o

but he gets butthurt when you blow him off cause you got a test tomorrow and you’re going to bed early

dal never really had the internal motivation to actually put stuff into school so he just doesn’t get it

whenever you try and include him w your studying/homework he tries to help w flashcards

and whenever you get the answer right and it’s super specific he’s just like 😟

and you’re like “right?” and he’s like “…yeah”

MY GUY IS SCARED cause he knows you could just totally destroy him intellectually🧐

also cause he’s scared you’ll realize you’re too good for him

but its okay 🫶🫶

two-bit

he thinks school is boring like bruh is a total super duper senior just for the friends but the academics

BRO CLOCKS OUT

meanwhile it’s like a major part of your life

hes really impressed

whenever you get some academic award he’s always like “WOOOOOO”

LMAO

you guys have really funny fake arguments

which you destroy him in

youre just like “that’s a fallacy…and that’s a fallacy…bandwagon”

boom roasted asf

steve:

you tutor him kinda on yiur school subjects

yk the study method where you explain a concept to someone else to help you remember it?

you do that for him but he’s just like 😀🧍‍♂️

“and that’s pretty much what mitosis is!”

and hes like ”…i’m glad😀”

LMAOOO

he’ll also try and teach you abt cars and car parts

which is just a bit of a struggle🤏😀

TYSM FOR REQUESTING🤩 my inbox is open! i’m really trying to get to everyone’s and some take more thought for me to plan than others so sorry if they take a while🥰🤪‼️

[eds6ngel]

what about Steve and readers first time? They’ve been talking about it for a while and they find a night where Alena can go over to robins and it’s super sweet. He planned a whole lil date with candles and they have super sweet lovey sex🥺

hi my loves!! you both requested similar ideas, so i've combined them both. hope you enjoy!! ♡

warnings: SMUT. afab!reader. fem!reader. dad!steve. 90s!au. swearing. unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it kiddos!!). fingering. oral (f receiving). lil bit of nipple play. tons of kissing. creampie. love bombs. pet names. they go to pound town, but it's sweet and lovey really :') [2.5k].

full 'when i kissed the teacher' masterlist.

You had just walked inside Steve’s small apartment from an amazing evening meal. Hand in hand, Steve stops you in the middle of the kitchen, pressing a kiss to your temple and whispering to you, “Wait here.”

He zooms off to his bedroom, the thought of the reason why lingering in your mind. The both of you hadn’t had sex with each other yet, your schedules simply too busy to tackle the task. Through joint decision, you agreed you wanted to make it special. You could’ve easily sneakily fucked after Alena went to bed one night, or attempted when she was outside playing with her neighbourhood friends.

But you didn’t just want to fuck, you wanted to make love.

He rushes back, panting a little, seemingly clamouring around his bedroom as he takes your hands, putting them over your eyes as he holds onto your arms from behind. “I’ll guide you. Just follow me.”

You seem to be taking steps forward, assumingly towards the secluded corner of the house, his own private space, a place he got to decorate to his heart’s content. A spot which wasn’t covered in a child-friendly book, toy, or painting.

He pulls you back by the arms, whispering out, “Okay, now open your eyes.” As your eyelids flutter open, you had never seen Steve’s room so… homely. Candles were laid out across various surfaces, including his closet, beside table and window ledge, flickering in the moonlight. But, the main attraction was the trail of rose petals, leading from the bedroom door to the bed, decorated in a pattern in the centre of the sheets, spelling out, “I love you.”

You gasp in shock, a smile creeping onto your face, “Steve, I—” You feel the warm palms of his hands lay on your hips, arms wrapped around your waist as he nuzzles your neck, pressing a trail of soft kisses over your freckled skin. You hum at the gesture, reaching your hand back to rake through his freshly-washed hair, the silkiness soon to be disheveled. “I don’t know what to say.”

“In a good way?” he asks, continuing to litter kisses, causing you to whimper when he slightly bites down on your skin, him already knowing what the answer would be.

“Of course in a good way, baby,” you sigh out, closing your eyes as your brain reels in on the feeling of his lips tugging on your skin. “Love it so much.”

A few, small bruises had already formed by the time he had parted from your neck, the proof of your boyfriend’s pleasure marked onto you. “Good. Now…” he begins, grabbing your hands, twirling you so that you face him. He rubs his thumb over your cheek, left hand remaining on your waist, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

You nod, a little too eagerly perhaps, but nonetheless true. The kisses start off sweet, passionate, full of love. The feeling of Steve’s smooth lips upon your own send the same chills up your spine as the first time you kissed. No matter how long you’d been together, it always felt special.

Before long, the kisses became more heated. Steve guides you back towards the bed, lips never leaving your own as he lays you down onto the soft mattress, tongue entering your mouth as he basks in the taste. The linger of grape from your red wine invades his senses, the sweetness fitting the atmosphere of the situation, a perfect descriptor for your caring personality.

You pull his face away from yours, cupping his left cheek as you nip at his jaw, leaving love bites of your own, knowing Steve would have a hard time covering them up for his eleven o’clock shift tomorrow morning. You hear the sounds of soft whines escaping his mouth, the noise suddenly becoming your favourite thing in the world. Nothing else could compare to the moans of pleasure escaping his throat.

From your focus on his jaw, his hands slip under the fabric of your dress, the warmness of his palms brushing over the coolness of your bare skin. Parting from his jaw, you immediately wiggle out of your dress, the action seeming the least sexy thing in your mind, but the utmost in Steve’s.

Once your dress is discarded onto the floor, Steve ravels in the gorgeousness of your two-piece lingerie. A black lace, perfectly cupping your breasts, hugging in all the right places, accentuating your waist and hips. “Jesus doll, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” he exhales, his eyes fluttering up and down your body.

You hide your face in your hands, the nickname sending butterflies straight to your stomach. “Y’like it?”

He gently removes your hands, placing a few kisses over your face. One on your forehead, one on your nose, and finally capturing your lips in his. “Very pretty, baby. Sexy, even. Beautiful. You just… You look amazing.”

Giggling, you tug that the ends of his shirt, slightly frailed from each wash it went through, as he un-buttons the first few, enough for him to easily slide the material over his head. Your eyes glisten as they take in his body. Slight faint ab-lines decorate his stomach, a section of dark, brown hair littering across his chest, broad shoulders to complete his beauty.

Your lips naturally gravitate towards his chest, placing tender pecks across the centre, trailing down to his stomach, your mouth never leaving his body. His hand glides through your hair, scrunching it as he softly moans, basking in the tenderness of your actions. And when you look up, it might’ve been the most gorgeous sight he had ever seen. The golden hue of the candles burns against the gradient of your face, eyes flickering in the honey dew light. You were perfection.

You grab at his belt, Steve too caught up in the pleasures of your kisses to notice. The sound of his belt clinking open makes him pull your hair back, leaning down and kissing you passionately, tongue entering your mouth. “I’ll do that, sweet girl. Just sit back and relax for me, ‘kay?”

Without a word, you fall back against the bedsheets, Steve reaching around to un-clasp your lace bra, tossing it into the growing pile consisting of his shirt and your dress. He delicately brushes his thumb over your hardened nipple, the tenderness making you shiver in sensitivity. Leaning down, he places small kisses to each of your boobs, swirling his tongue around your nipple before letting go with a pop. “Fuck, Steve.”

“Those pretty sounds f’me, angel?” he teases you, continuing his trail down your stomach, before wrapping his fingers underneath the sides of your panties. You nod in response, softly sighing out, “All for you, Steve. Always for you.”

“Legs up for me,” he soothingly says, you complying as he pulls your panties off, your glistening cunt now on full display.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters, pulling you slightly down towards him as he wraps his arms around your thighs. He takes one finger, sliding it through soaked folds, lifting it to his mouth and sucking off the juices he collected. He hums in content, staring you dead in the eye and seductively saying, “Think I need a better taste.”

Although, through the sexual desire, you can see he’s audibly waiting for a confirmation, to which you whine out, “Please, Steve. Put your mouth on me.”

“Good girl,” he replies, gripping your thighs tightly, as if you were to escape him. He licks a stripe directly up your cunt, your hands immediately grabbing his hair, head held back and eyes squeezed shut as you bask in the pleasures of his mouth.

If you had to compare Steve to your previous boyfriends, he definitely came out on top. From the feeling of his mouth sucking and licking on your clit, to the way he was purposely squeezing your thighs, desperate to leave a mark, you could easily decipher that he was an expert at eating pussy.

“Holy fuck,” you whine out, Steve beginning to shake his head from side to side, the wet sounds coming from your cunt sounding so incredibly lewd. You were heading towards the edge, the peak of your pleasure, Steve knowing exactly how to maximise your enjoyment, as if you had been having sex for years. He pushes his middle finger directly into your hole, curling it in just the perfect way to send you to heaven.

You loudly moan, your vision going white, legs shaking in Steve’s arms as you hear him murmur quietly in the distance, his voice seeming so far away, “That’s it, baby. So pretty for me.”

You slowly come back down to reality, your eyes opening to the sight of Steve’s face glistening in your juices, dripping down his chin as he climbs back up to you, joining you in a heartfelt kiss, the taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.

Steve lets out a giggle as he leans his head down into the crook of your shoulder, placing a delicate kiss as he mumbles, “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You join his giggling, soft sighing out with a smile, “Felt the most beautiful too.”

He leans up, his body too desperate to take the restraints any longer as he discards of his pants and boxers, his lengthy cock dripping with pre-cum, aching to be used. You’re about to sit up, reaching out as Steve places his hand on your chest, silencing you with yet another kiss. “My pretty girl. Just rest, my love. I’ve got you.”

Complying, he glides his cock up and down your folds, collecting your slick, before sliding in, both of you basking in pleasure through groans and moans. His eyebrows draw together as he hisses, gripping onto your waist as his mouth opens wide, “Fuck, y’feel so fucking good.”

From your end, there’s a slight ache, as there always is, but it soon fades into pleasure. You mewl over the feeling of his cock gliding against your walls, creating a delightful throbbing inside of you. Steve leans over you, pushing himself even deeper as he fills you to the brim, pressing his forehead against yours, whispering out, “You ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you eagerly nod, Steve pulling all the way out, before slamming back in, not worrying about the harshness of his thrust. He quickly builds up a fast and hard steady pace, the room warming up from the heated energy of your pleasure. Between kisses, Steve is grunting into your ear, his toned arms wrapped around the back of your head, cradling you towards his chest. You can’t help but dig your fingertips down his back, leaving light scratches that only you would know about.

Your arms move to his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible, Steve mumbling out, “Love you. Love you so— shit — so fucking much, baby. You were fucking made for me.”

As he sucks more hickeys into your neck, biting and nipping at your already bruised skin, you whine out between pants, “Made for you, Steve. Never letting you go. You’re all mine, ah fuck—”

And although his pace was deep and hard, there was so much love in every thrust he made. After spending so long pining after you for almost a year, here you were, in his arms, becoming intertwined with his body. The sound of your bodies slapping together juxtaposed the absolute tenderness of love he was giving to you.

Changing the angle of his hips, you feel a pleasure like no other, something your body had never experienced before. You wrap your legs around his back, somehow pulling him even deeper into you, Steve feeling the warm fanning of your breath delicately against his shoulder. The new angle allowed for his pubic hair to harshly graze across your clit, the intensity increasing by the second.

Steve can tell you are close, from the vice grip of your cunt around his cock, to your high-pitched moaning, whines becoming more light and delicate as you floated higher and higher to the peak. Babbling between sighs, you say, “Need to cum. Please let me cum, Stevie. Love you so much, please.”

The use of the nickname ‘Stevie’ makes him falter for a few seconds, his hips stuttering, trying his hardest not to cum before you would. “Yeah, let go for me, honey. Need to feel it. M’close too. C’mon, baby.”

You let out a whine into his shoulder, tears beginning to stream your cheeks as your hair sticks to your forehead. You wraps your arms tightly around his neck, fists scrunched up in a ball as you let go, your orgasm crashing over you in waves, legs shaking against the back of his waist. Steve continues to plow into you through your release, your cunt gripping him securely as his pace begins to falter.

You can’t say a word, even after your orgasm has ended, your pussy becoming sensitive as Steve blabbers out “I love you” over and over again. Your eyes remained closed, body slumped against his shoulder as you hear him groan into your ear, his cock lightly throbbing within you as you remain above the clouds. Ropes of cum stick to your inner walls, filling you to the brim as Steve cradles your head, his body shaking on top of you.

As he comes down from his high, he all but falls on top of you, body spent from absolute pleasure. He pulls your head out of his shoulder, gently caressing your cheek as your eyes remain shut. “Wakey wakey,” he jokes, a lop-sided grin spreading on your face as you sigh. You were truly spent, Steve slowly pulling out of you, a pool of cum following as he heads to the bathroom, grabbing a soft flannel and gently cleaning you up.

He adds it into the clothes pile, laying beside you as he places tender kisses along your shoulder, turning your body so that you face him. “Can I see those pretty eyes?”

You hum, fluttering open your heavy lids, your body trying its hardest to resist the action. “Hi,” you say with a giggle.

“Hi,” he replies, moving your hair from out of your face, strands sticking to your forehead, “Think I wore you out there.”

You scoot closer to him, closing your eyes once more as you bury your head into his hairy chest, mumbling out, “Need a nap now.”

He chuckles in response, pressing a kiss to your forehead, stroking the back of your head, “Okay honey, you rest up. I love you.”

And as you fade off into the unknown, you murmur out an “I love you too,” before slipping into the depths of sleepiness.

Steve hugs you tightly against his chest, feeling the absolute love, warmth and radiance emitting from you. The moonlight bathes in through the blinds, settling perfectly across your face, creating a luminous glow that reflected your emotional state. He felt lucky. Lucky that he got to spend tonight with you, treating you to the luxury of a meal, the luxury of pleasure, and the utmost luxury of making you his. You were now one, and that was the most beautiful thing he could ever have.

hope you enjoyed!! i will be closing requests for this series soon (as i want to focus on other characters for a little while) so get them in before the end of the week!! ♡

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @starkeylover @frostandflamesfanfic @tlclick73 @steveshairspray (if you aren't tagged like you normally are, it's because there's no specification if you are over 18 on your blog. if you are a minor, please do not interact with this spinoff in the series!!)

taglist if anyone wants to add themselves (for all characters!!)

[riality-check]

👉👈 could i request another lil ficlet that includes steve getting comfortable with his body as it changes over time, that shit is so healing

Hi anon, of course you can!! I love getting requests, even though I might take a bit to answer them!!

I'm going to take this one in a slightly different direction, if that's alright with you. I've got a couple of thoughts about Steve and migraines that I'm using this opportunity to share.

(For those who missed it, this ficlet is the one anon is referring to!)

Steve thought, like most people, that his twenties would be filled with adventure. He'd get to party, make mistakes, learn about himself, and have fun. He'd go places and find a place to call home and maybe even a person, too.

But he's twenty years old, and at least once every two weeks, he's out of commission because his brain decides to scream at him.

Scream is probably too kind of a word. Jackhammer through his eye socket fits better, but that takes too much effort to say.

Today is one of the jackhammer days, and Steve doesn't even get all the fun warning signs and the aura before it sets in because he wakes up to pain so bad that opening his eyes feels monumental.

Woo-hoo, twenties!

He rolls over to smash his face into his pillow. It blocks out the light, and the pressure helps, but being face-down is going to make him nauseous in a few minutes.

What he'd give to be normal.

A hand snakes its way into his hair, lightly ruffling it, and while, normally, Steve considers himself exceptionally lucky and ahead of the curve (for once) for already having found his person to call home, right now he wishes he were alone.

Not really. The hand in his hair has to go, though. It's too much when breathing hurts.

He groans and tries to move out of the way, but that hurts, too.

"Oh, shit," Eddie whispers, taking his hand away. "Migraine day?"

Steve hums, though it ends up being more of a whimper.

"Okay," Eddie says.

The bed shifts next to Steve, and the sound of footsteps appears and disappears. Before Steve musters the courage or willpower to turn back over and open his eyes, the bed dips again, and gentle hands are rolling him over.

He groans in anticipation of the light, but it doesn't hit his eyes. Eddie must have closed the curtains.

"Water is on the nightstand, along with your meds. I don't know how much they'll help now, but if you can stomach them, I think you should take them," Eddie says softly. "Do you want the ice pack?"

Steve nods, just barely.

Gently, Eddie places the ice pack, already wrapped in a towel, on his forehead. Steve sighs when the cold makes contact with his skin.

"Sorry," he rasps. He's glad Eddie brought him water, even if he can't make himself grab it yet. His voice is a wreck.

"What for?" Eddie asks, lightly running a hand up and down Steve's bare arm.

"Making you do this."

Eddie huffs. Steve cracks his eyes open to see him frowning, like he expected.

"You don't make me do anything," Eddie says. "Do I make you do anything on the days my nerve pain flares?"

"No," Steve mumbles.

It's just not fair. The monsters are dead and gone. Steve is young and strong and hot and able, except for the days when he isn't. He shouldn't have days when he isn't, not when the shit that caused them is dead.

He wishes this was something like the Mind Flayer. Something that could be exorcised from him or cut out like a tumor. Something that can be killed.

Steve is good at killing things. He isn't good at fighting by standing down.

"So, we have a day in," Eddie says, still quiet. "I wanted to finish my book, anyway. Mind if I read next to you?"

"Sounds good," Steve says.

He closes his eyes again, hears the rustling of sheets as Eddie gets settled in next to him.

It does sound good. Eddie has a way of spinning things, of distracting them both from both of their pain.

Steve wishes he could see himself in Eddie's eyes. He wonders what he'd look like. He wonders about the thoughts that Eddie doesn't share.

He's long grown past the misguided belief that those thoughts are bad.

Steve isn't good at fighting by standing down. But he thinks, as the light sound of Eddie's steady breathing and the blissful dark and the pleasant cold of the ice pack start to lull him back to sleep, despite the pain, that he doesn't have to fight. That this is just a condition of existence, just something to be lived with.

Not an enemy. Just baggage. And Steve can use his arms to hold it instead of swing.

He isn't normal. Neither is Eddie. And that's okay, too.

[emwritesstuff]

DYNAMO | Steve Rogers x Reader | part 3.

HYDRA has made their share of human experiments. You're just one of them. One of the least successful ones. One of the least functional ones. At least your life in the facility gave you a few things: unwavering resilience, cool(ish) superpowers and a great sense of humor. Steve Rogers would strongly disagree with that last one. A single chance encounter with him reluctantly brings you into the Avengers Compound, and you're determined to make his life as miserable as you can. Feeling's mutual.

AO3 | Masterlist | Playlist (coming soon!)

notes: this is for whoever was starved for Steve (you'll get the name of the chapter by the end). And the to lovers part of enemies to lovers begin... (warnings: mentions of human experimentation, violence, cursing, nosebleeds, sexual tension, a lil' bit of grinding) (5.2K words)

3: FRICTION SURGENCE

DAY 10

Bruce Banner is nice. The man carries himself like a ticking time bomb, ready to burst into green rage at any moment, but to you he’s just the nice doctor who runs your full body scans every Monday.

He even says sorry when he sticks you with the needles to measure your energy levels.

Your cheek is stuffed with a lollipop, that he started to keep in the lab when you jokingly asked for one. The sugar is almost enough to coat the frustration from the results you’ve been getting these past few days.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” He sighs, pulling the needles from your arms. They’re especially made, connected by wires to a big computer. “Well, nothing that we didn’t know.”

It’s been the same thing, over and over: energy levels normal. Electrical impulses normal. Few extra things on your DNA, however nothing too strange running on your bloodstream.

You’ve seen samples of Rogers and Bruce’s on a microscope, and next to them you were just a regular joe.

Except when you make the Compound’s lights flicker and the raging migraines, your brain works normal. Bruce says the heightened brain activity is what causes your head to pound and your nosebleeds, but he doesn’t know how to make it stop.

In fact, no one knows how to make it stop. Not even the HYDRA scientists who made you had that answer, even though no one lets you take a look at what they wrote, so you just have to believe their word. It’s great.

Banner keeps himself optimistic, though, and you want more than anything to deposit all your faith on him, but you’re not sure if you have any to spare.

You’re using your teeth to crack the last bits of the lollipop when broad shoulders block the view from the doorway. Steve Rogers looks godlike even in his workout attire; white shirt, navy slacks and the most stoic face on the universe.

You hate how he looks like that at 8 a.m. while you probably look like roadkill with fading blue hair.

He stands like a god and acts like one, all knowing, the very image of goodness in breathable microfiber and a straight spine.

You’re not religious.

“Training.” Is all he says when you raise your eyes at him, and you groan.

Training. The part of your pardon they left out in the Quinjet two weeks ago. Something about Fury wanting you ready, something about being a potential recruit-Avenger-sidekick thing.

They didn’t count that besides the times where you’ve accidentally zapped your opponents on the wrestling mat, you were basically useless. You didn’t have super strength or spy skills. All you had was a smart mouth and sheer indomitability. And that made Captain America livid.

He was strict and gave you a hard time, which you always retorted with verbal provocation. Which in turn made him even worse, although something in the flush of his ears made your muscles less sore and your stamina last a little more. All of that, combined with his hate for you and your HYDRA past and your hate for him and his military-like lifestyle, constantly fed the cat and mouse thing you two had going on.

“Fuckin’ hate training.”

“Come back for another check-up when you’re done.” Banner says when you hop off the medical bed. You mutter an okay to the very green back of his neck and scurry after Rogers, already taking his long strides ahead of you.

You’re glaring at him across the mat as places his shoes neatly to the side of it. “This is not a very fair fight, don’t you think?”

His eyes flicker to you, and he smirks. Asshole.

“Don’t let me catch you, then.”

Your mouth parts open, because this is the same training Nat does with him, except she’s like a Cirque du Soleil acrobat (Tony has multiple DVDs of that thing) and you are, as aforementioned, akin to roadkill.

Which means she suggested it, and Rogers so eager to kick your ass at literally and metaphorically any opportunity he has, embraced it.

Assholes.

You half-yelp-half-roar as he tackles you to the mat for the 5th time. “Fold.”

“No! Get off me!” He does as you say for once, and you both retake your positions on opposite sides of the mat.

You bend your back as he lurches forward, your Yoga sessions with Wanda showing results for the first time, but you’re so taken aback by your newfound flexibility Rogers has an opening to catch you again, this time like a sack of potatoes.

“That’s six. Fold.” You squirm in his grasp. You’d actually be having fun if it wasn’t him and his hellbent will on making you miserable.

He’s the worst of them. Sam teases you but in a friendly way; he was one of the first to welcome you in. Nat is hard on you but she’s so cool you don’t mind. Wanda is nicer than she should be; Bucky Barnes avoids you, but you’re thankful for that.

Tony is… Tony.

Rogers’ just the goddamn worst. Ground rules for this exercise: you make them touch the mat, you make a point. You obviously can’t tackle Captain America. 

“It’s not fair if I have no way to make points!” You deliver punches to his back that you know don’t do much but tickle.

“You would if you took your training seriously. Do you fold?”

“Eat shit, Rogers.”

 You can feel him craning his neck to look at you, and you twist your back to stare at him too. “Watch your mouth.”

“Fuck you.”

In a split second you are slammed back onto the mat, Rogers pinning you down as his eyes flame right in your face. You’re both panting, from exertion and anger. He hovers over you like a predator.

His eyes are blown wide. He licks his pink lips. He’s like Adonis. You hate him.

“Fuck off!” You snap out of it, punching and kicking and squirming, to no avail. He’s much larger and stronger.

Frustration threatens to spill through your eyes. Seven.

“Do. You. F-”

You hear a snicker coming from above you. “Damn, d’you guys need the room?”

Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson are standing by the sliding doors of the training room, although you don’t know how long they were there for. Captain America gets off of you in an instant, leaving you to catch your breath on the cushioned floor. “Nat’s training.”

You don’t have the energy to speak, just to stare at the line of sweat staining Rogers’ back. A smirk breaks your indignant pout, a little victory in making him work for his own.

Your eyes land on newcomers, shaking their heads with amused looks on their faces. It’s better not to think about how warm your cheeks feel.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, just here to do some liftin’.” Barnes jests as you attempt to sit up. Not that he needed to lift. The man had a tree trunk of a body, rivaling Thor’s even though he’d never agree to it and Bucky was too modest to say so himself.

“And I’m looking for a run partner. Steve?”

Your star-spangled tormentor spares you a glance as he’s putting his running shoes back on. “You should report to—”

“In a minute, mom.”

Rogers and Wilson disappear through the glass doors, and you slump back into the mat. Banner would have to wait a little while longer.

DAY 37

Combat training. Stealth training. Cardio. Lab tests. More cardio.

Your schedule has been so full the last few weeks you’ve barely had time to register what you were doing. Being dragged from one thing to the other, day after day, and before you could think about it your body was toning up and you could keep up with the Avengers on their morning run.

Well, not the super soldiers. But still. Great progress.

Although you’d like to be anywhere but the Avengers compound, you had to compromise. The pardon was too good to pass up. Easy access to morphine was even better.

Now, Bruce knew enough that he could medicate you before the nosebleeds started, which was nice. The migraines still chastised you often, but that’s what the morphine’s for. Tony was close to forgiving you about the time you made the lights flicker and he lost his record streak on Pac Man.

There was one thing, you weren’t giving in to, though.

Steve motherfucking Rogers.

“I don’t want to be American. I’m fine with my original nationality.”

Discussion of the day: being an official American citizen. To Fury and him, it would make bureaucracy easier; to you, it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to be an Avenger.

“This will help prove your ties with HYDRA—” Nick Fury is intimidating, truly, and persuasive, but you’re dead set on not giving in to more things. Next up, they’ll be changing your name to McKayla McJohnson or something.

“Why does it matter? Wanda didn’t have to change anything.”

“You’re not Wanda. She’s been obliging from day one.” You glare at Steve Rogers, fists clenched on top of the oval table everyone’s gathered around.

“Listen up, Captain Senior Discount—”

“If you were the least bit cooperative—”

“I’m very much cooperative!”

Tony’s at his second expresso of the last twenty minutes “Oh my god, they’re like two high schoolers.”

“If there was such a thing as high-school in the stone age.”

“That’s enough—”

“Are you really sure Russian is your real nationality? HYDRA could’ve gotten you from anywhere.”

You blink. The words could’ve come from Rogers himself – this time, however, they come from Tony. Couldn’t put it past any of them, truly. But Captain America seems appalled; another surprise.

“Tony—”

He’s right – you’re not really sure. You’re also not sure why clinging to a place on your passport is so important to you. Maybe it’s because it’s something Steve wants, and therefore you sink your claws into it and refuse to let go.

 “I—I’m not. This is all I know.” You say quietly, and it’s Steve’s turn to be surprised.

You want to throw your water on his face. If pity is all the reason he’s got to be nice to you, you don’t want any of it.

Maybe you just don’t like all this existential questioning you’ve been doing lately. Where are you from? What can you do? Why did you do all of the things they asked you to? How were you made? Why were you made?

Why? Why? Why? Why?

“Could we come back to this another time? Training’s in five.” Rogers’ voice pulls you from your thoughts, and for the first time you’re thankful he’s so serious about fitness.

To his face, however, you roll your eyes. But follow him out to the gym anyways.

You almost have to run to keep up with his stride. His shoulders are tense, you can see it from behind him and imagine his expression. When the thought that you’ve should’ve given in and let them grant you citizenship comes up in your head, you shake it as if your ears are full of water.

“Where are we going?” You ask when he walks past the gym, but he doesn’t answer. “Rogers!”

“Outside. It’s sunny out.”

Before you can retort that it’s never stopped him from locking you up in that sweat-stinking-dungeon and that you’d actually love a pool day for once, you arrive at your real destination.

The Avengers Compound is situated right in the middle of a big grass field, with surrounding woods as extra measure of privacy. Anti-aircraft shields protect it from above, and you’re still wondering if they’ll give you a shock collar to keep you from running off.

Sam lands on the grass right in front the both of you. Full gear. “Hey kid.”

Redwing hovers over his right shoulder, and you almost panic. Is this your training, or you’re just the punching bag of the day? “Hey…”

Bruce and Natasha run up to the three of you, the green one with electrodes and a clipboard in his hands. “…what on Earth is going on?!” You shrill, and Natasha smirks at you.

Steve Rogers is not there when you turn. Natasha has her catsuit on. In the distance you spot Wanda and Vision.

This is it. Happy Death Day.

“Chill out. It’s just training. With a twist.” Nat says when Bruce approaches you with the electrodes, starting to glue them on your temples. When you attempt to protest, Bruce puts a hand on your shoulder. You instantly calm down, and it annoys you to no end.

“I’m using this to monitor your brain activity while you use your powers. It’s not as precise as the lab scans but it’ll do fine.”

“While I use my— during combat training?”

You’ve been practicing alone for Bruce’s research. Inside a Blindex aquarium few things could escape of. A safe, controlled environment, miles away from throwing punches with everyone on a patch of grass.

“That’s the twist.” You realize why Rogers had vanished, a fully clad Captain America coming to stand in front of you.

“That’s why the full gear too.” Nat quips, and you look down at your attire. Leggings and a souvenir T-shirt of the Avengers Tower Tour 2015.

Seems a little unbalanced. Especially when Vibranium is covering their bodies one way or another.

“Are we ready?” Wanda approaches with Vision as Bruce is gluing the last of the electrodes, right in the middle of your forehead.

At least she was in civilian attire, but you’ve seen what she can do.

“Not particularly.” You stare cross eyed at Bruce’s ministrations around your head, and Rogers comes to stand by the two of you.

“And miss the chance to kick my ass for once?”

You scoff. “It’s what gets me up in the morning, Cap.”

The chance of payback makes you almost giddy with excitement. And yet. You couldn’t control your powers for very long, and as much as that’s what training was for, no one had seen how bad things could really get.

What if you lost control? What if someone got hurt?

You know you shouldn’t care. They’re not your friends. You should probably want someone to get hurt, and you hate that you don’t.

Still, you know that keeping yourself unchecked and untrained would lead to it anyways.

So you resign. And training with a twist starts.

To keep you from causing a power outage in the whole Compound a generator was installed so you could steal energy from. Luckily for you, they take turns, each one having a go at kicking your ass independently.

It almost makes you look like you’re standing on equal footing.

You finish Sam quickly the first time, making his wings go haywire with a couple of blasts. He’s too heavy with all the gear to go head-to-head. You can hear Bucky’s booming laughter when your way of dealing with redwing is swatting it like an oversized beetle.

Natasha’s movements are so quick you barely see her approach you, and you don’t have time to refuel at the generator because she lands a kick to your chest that drops you to the grass like a sack of potatoes.

Vision is almost too easy. He’s barely organic, and when you immobilize him with a continuous stream of electricity you wonder if you can refill from him.

You can almost feel the hand of Baron von Strucker on shoulder. His breath on your ear.

You drop Vision at the same time your knees hit the floor. Suddenly you’re gasping for air. “Sorry,” You whisper to him, and he gives you a thumbs up.

“All seems to be functioning. Don’t worry for me.”

Bruce approaches you with a holographic tablet showcasing your brain. “You’re spiking. How do you feel?”

Everything is spinning, but you don’t tell him that. It’s not because of training.

Very good indeed, Asset.

The memory makes you shudder. “I could use a minute.” Banner nods, and a water bottle is placed on your hand at the same time Rogers kneels down to look at you.

The pity again. To hell with him.

“Think you can keep going?”

You take a long swig of water, and it does indeed help with clearing your head. Strucker feels more distant now.

“Why? Scared, Rogers?”

“’Cause your nose is bleeding, smartass.” He puts something on your other hand. A handkerchief. “Clean up. I’m next.”

Legs are still wobbly when you go up to the generator. Your hands itch as you feel the electricity traveling up your arms, making your hairs stand on end. You’re eager, though. Almost inspired.

Captain America is already waiting for you, shield in hand. He blocks your first blast with it, and the second. He knows your moves. He’s not gonna give up his only defense.

You need to get closer to snuck a hit in, so you both prowl each other like two lions fighting for territory. Your time is running out, and soon enough you’ll need the generator again.

Rogers pounces at the same time you do, using his shield as leverage to gain some high ground. You’re looking up at him as you see his face light up blue, matching his eyes.

A strong discharge flies out from your hands, too close to be blocked by the shield. His eyes roll backwards and you grit your teeth. Your every pore burns.

You don’t have mercy on him. He can take it.

If you can take all of this shit, he can take a little lightning.

You fall to the floor when it becomes too much, Rogers stumbling backwards but no more than that. He knows what to expect now. You follow with your eyes as he drops the shield on the grass.

When you look back up at him, he looks almost amused. “Again.” You demand, and he shakes his head.

“Wanda’s turn.”

Fuck.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Wanda is the most powerful of you all. You knew of her and her brother even before leaving HYDRA. The difference between her and you is that she is nice. And likeable, annoyingly so. You can’t just dislike Wanda Maximoff.

And also – she had mastered her powers a long time ago.

She’s waiting when you get up, brushing the grass blades off your leggings. The only one besides yourself not wearing her combat gear.

She doesn’t need it.

Spurts of red surround her like smoke, sparkling under the sun. You summon your power from your palms, groaning when it hurts but only sparks pathetically around your fingers.

You know she’s holding back so you two can start at the same place, and you’re not trying to embarrass yourself in front of all these people, there’s enough of it by just your own existence.

So you focus. Draw a sharp breath as Strucker’s distance narrows inside your damaged brain. Your hands nearly meet at the center of your chest, a movement you rarely ever do because usually splayed palms are enough.

Something sparks. Something blue, and you feel it again.

You can hear shouting around you, but all you can see is red.

You’re sure Wanda only sees blue.

The blasts come from all four of your hands, intertwining in a show of lighting and potential destruction only experiments like you and her can manage; you hear your name but for a second, you’re sure you can break her defenses, so you ignore it.

You ignore the black spots, the metallic taste on your tongue, the migraine.

“Stop!”

Wanda is having too much with this, just like you are. You have no qualms against her, which makes it fun because the intention to hurt isn’t there. She smiles brightly at you, and you finally feel the balance. Equals.

“Wanda! She is spiking too much! You need to stop!”

Wanda notices before you do. You frown at her when she frowns at you, but you don’t have time to dwell on it. Consciousness slips and pulls you under.

All you hear is your name being shouted when red and blue give way to black.

You’re sprawled on your bed like a starfish when you hear the door to your room sliding open.

“Brought you some Tylenol,” Wanda announces softly, and you know it’s being deposited on your bedside table along with a glass of water.

Angel Wanda. If it was anyone else you’d make them leave, but you like her.

“Thank you.”

You woke up the first time in the med bay, with so many wires attached to you that you had a panic attack and blacked out again. You woke up back again here. Like magic.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. It’s just the headache.” You could still feel your nerves fried from training, but that should pass soon.

The bed dips when she sits near your feet. You crack open one of your eyes and she’s got a guilty smile on her face. “I’m sorry…I think we pushed you too far today.”

You shake your head, and it feels like all the corks and parts inside of you rattle loose when you do. “This is normal,” You gesture to yourself. “That’s what training is for.”

It sounds believable when it comes out of your lips. Truthfully, you’d rather be doing none of this, but you’ll have an expiration date if you don’t.

Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get better, or if all this effort is fruitless and all that’s left for you is explode like an atomic bomb and take everyone out with you.

For now, things seemed…okay. At least you were allowed the comfort of your own bed, after Banner deemed you well enough to leave his sight and someone very kindly carried you upstairs.

You hoped it was anyone but Steve Rogers. You didn’t need any further humiliation.

But you remember seeing him there. And you remember him holding you down as you wailed in terror and made the machines flicker, zapping anyone and anything that came near you.

You decide not to ask Wanda about it. Ignorance is bliss.

“Is Vision okay?”

“Perfectly well, miss Sparky.”

You open both of your eyes this time, raising your head to stare at Vision by your doorframe. Ouch.

“Sparky?!”

Wanda grimaces. “Courtesy of Stark. Get used to it, I think it might stick.” She giggles when you groan. “Welcome to the team.”

DAY 49

Natasha manages to coerce you into dyeing your hair after dinner.

She has a whole collection – this time, she’s going blonde. You eyed the pink with interested, but you’re still undecided. Right now, you’re just stripping the blue out of your hair.

The moment feels like a fever dream – Sex and The City playing on her TV while the two of you have a spa day – but you’ve gotten used to weird shit happening on the daily during your short time at the Compound.

Yet someone like Natasha Romanoff going for home haircare rubs you some type of weird.

“Can’t you just go to a fancy salon for this? You know, one with the champagne and the robes.”

She’s meticulously foiling her hair strands on her mirror when she turns to you, a small smile on her lips. “Then everyone will know about the new look.” She smirks. “Old habits die hard. I’m sure you know how it is.”

You’re scratching the skin with your numbers when she says it, and you suddenly feel silly. “Yeah. I get it.”

“Did you decide on a color yet?” She says, expertly deflecting the conversation to something more comfortable. Neutral. Impersonal.

You aren’t sure what makes you say it – morbid curiosity or something else that is shyly blooming inside of you – but you do it anyways.

“What was it like? The Widow Program.”

It takes her a beat to answer.

“I suppose the Red Room wasn’t much different than your upbringing. Tests, rigorous training, brainwashing. Making us the most lethal and obedient tools we could be.”

You meet her eyes in the mirror. She’s almost done with the foils, and you both look insane. But in this moment, there’s understanding.

These people are more like you than you could have imagined. Or even, you’re more like them.

It almost makes you hopeful.

“Mine was called the Brutkasten.”

“The Incubator.” You nod. “There were others like you there?”

“You didn’t get that from my files, Romanoff?”

Natasha grins, turning to you. You raise your eyebrows at her, arms crossed against your chest.

“Nat– and I did. I know you’re the sole survivor of your project as of today. But the files weren’t complete. A lot of blacked out information and missing pages to the reports.”

That surprises you. There’s still answers to be found, somewhere.

“The others all died pretty soon. It’s always been just me since forever.” You still remember some faces.  

The soon-to-be blonde nods. “Let me be honest with you. HYDRA’s in its last leg. But these rats are incredibly hard to find, and if we don’t cut all the heads…”

“More are going to show up. It’s why I’m here, right?” You sigh when she lets you continue. “Listen, Nat… Incubator held more projects than Powerhouse, but they didn’t exactly let us mingle. I’m not this groundbreaking insider you guys want me to be.”

“Think you could point us to a few possible locations, at least? Somewhere we can find those missing reports?”

You smile at her. If anyone can break into the Brutkasten, it’s the Avengers. They get what they want – not that you wouldn’t love to crush more of the HYDRA roaches yourself – and you can try getting the rest of your files.

And then you get better. And you get to live.

“So, which one are you going for?” Nat says, showing you one box of pink and one of cherry red dye.

You scan your eyes between the two boxes. Finally, you pick a third. The closest to your natural hair color. “This one.”

DAY 50

You can almost swear Rogers gets taken aback by your new look. Or maybe it was the just the proper workout attire, an apology gift from Nat who had “accidentally” shrunk your trusty World Tour t-shirt in the dryer.

She doesn’t do laundry.

Steve’s raised eyebrows only last for a few seconds, but you don’t miss it. And then you’re distracted by the grey sweatpants he’s wearing.

One second, max.

“Shall we?”

Just like that, another day starts. You skipped breakfast – being thrown around by Steve Rogers didn’t make the food sit right in your stomach, and besides, you enjoy the extra half hour in bed it provides you.

He’s blocking while you test out the mixed martial arts moves Nat showed you the other day, but not even that works to wind him up.

“Nat said you have intel on a new HYDRA base,” He says, landing a hit on your side. It makes you cough.

“’S not new. Well, to you, sure,” You smirk when he huffs. You use your foot to kick his upper thigh.

“There’s a briefing this afternoon.” Punch. Block.  “Care to share it then?”

You make doe eyes at him, cocking your head to the side. “Why, am I supposed to?”

It seems obvious to you. Of course you’re telling them the location of the base – you have as much interest in what’s in it as they do.

Rogers should know that. So why does he still insist on ordering you around?

Guy has a power kink.

Then you attack, and a badly calculated roundhouse lands you on the mat, Rogers holding your leg up. Furious. Just how you like him. “Do you take anything seriously?”

“Life’s too short.” You grin, and use your free leg to throw his balance off.

The fight resumes, you both this time rolling like animals on the floor. You feel sweat dripping down your temples, and it makes you even more annoyed that he, despite it all, still looks glorious.

He’s too much of everything. Too handsome, too charismatic, too put-together, too serious. Too perfect.

The exact opposite of you.

In your rage, you don’t even notice you’re almost putting up with his pace now. That you’ve been at this for close to an hour, non-stop, when before you needed a break every 5 minutes.

Because you’d waste no opportunity of landing any sort of hit on him, you’re still going strong. On punches and snarls and insults.

He still manages to pin you down, showcasing his much superior strength even though you keep yourself attached to him with your legs locked tight around his abdomen, putting all your might in reversing your positions.

“Let go.” You hiss.

“No.”

You’re tired of these unbalanced fights. Sick of it. “This fight isn’t fair! You’re too—”

“I know.”

You look up at him, perplexed when you realize it.

He’s not trying to train you. He’s trying to break you. Life’s not a fair fight or whatever.

You’re even more perplexed when you finally notice the position you’re in. Hips locked, faces flushed. A single bead of sweat runs down his forehead. Heat pools on cheeks and your lower belly.

Fuck him. Fuck him fuck him fuck him.  “I hate you.”

“I know.”

You can make up the different blues of his irises from here. Some grey in it. Not so picture perfect, after all.

“Good.” You relax enough that he loosens his grip a bit. Neither of you move though – something you don’t want to put a name to clouds your better judgement. He stares at your lips when you lick them.

You’re so close you can feel his ragged breaths on your face.

Stark’s voice on the speakers breaks the trance. This is a one-time call for pancakes.

You’re almost disappointed.

And in a last-ditch effort, you turn your bodies so Rogers is pressed against the mat instead. Better end it while you’re still on top of it. “I’d like some breakfast.”

“You look frustrated.”

Steve looks up from his coffee with a scowl. That’s the understatement of the year, and it’s all her doing – since her arrival, frustration is all he knows. Bucky knows it better than anyone, being the recipient of Steve’s venting every time Sparky and his best friend interact.

Most of it can’t be fixed with a cold shower.

“I’m fine.”

“You positive?”

“I’m positive, Buck.”

Bucky shrugs, giving Steve an affectionate slap on his shoulder. “She’ll fit in well,” He remarks. Already is.

They’re watching the others from the couch; Vision with a suspicious hand on Wanda’s lower back, Sparky – a very fitting nickname for her – threatening Tony with a fork.

“She’s difficult.”

“Can you blame her?”

Steve sighs. “Of course not. But it would be so much easier for everybody—”

“Everybody who? You? I think you like the challenge.”

Bucky grins when all Steve does is sip on his coffee.

“Maybe you should stop trying to fix her yourself and let her find her own way.”

“Maybe she should be grateful she isn’t rotting in the Raft. It’s like she doesn’t even want to be on our side.” He holds the empty mug like it’s his shield.

He still hasn’t figured her out. It’s been driving him insane. One day she is soft spoken and fragile; clinging to his shirt as panic takes over in the med bay, breaths easing as he coos in her ear. The other she is wild and foul-mouthed, grinding on him like—

“I don’t think she’s sure this is the good side yet. Why don’t you show her yours?”

“Buck—”

[stranger-nightmare]

Since your requests are open, can I request a Steve Rogers fic where he’s touch starved and more clingy to the reader because she just came back from the snap and Steve misses her deeply? Reader finds it really cute and they spend the day cuddling and attacking each other with fluffy kisses.

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐨

pairing: Steve Rogers x (female) Reader

summary: you’re back with Steve after being snapped away for five years. Steve is now somehow clingy and distant at the same time and you finally confront him on it

warnings: angst, fluff

It had only been a few days since you’d returned from the snap. Trying to adjust was hard, what had only been a few seconds for you had apparently been five years for the rest of the world. You were grateful that you had Steve to lean on at least.

But you couldn’t help the slight unease that in your stomach when you were with him as well. For you there had been no gap in your relationship. For him there had been years.

It was strange, Steve was somehow extremely clingy and needy with you since you returned but somehow simultaneously distant and closed off. His physical affection was astounding, he quite literally seemed to always have a hand on you somehow, to always be touching you in one way or another. He’d even follow you when you got up to get a drink from the kitchen; it was like he couldn’t stand to be apart from you anymore than he needed to. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight for even a second longer than needed.

And yet he never talked to you anymore. He never opened up, never let you in to what was troubling him. His body might be right next to you but his mind, his heart, were always a million miles away.

One day you were faffing about the kitchen when Steve returned from a mission. He stomped straight into the room, striding over to you, before enveloping you in a bear hug, squeezing you so tight you were convinced your eyes were gonna pop out of your head. He sighed deeply and you could feel the slight tremble in his body, despite how well he tried to hide it.

“Steve?” You mumble into his chest. “What happened?” You rub his back lightly, signalling for him to loosen his grip slightly.

He looks down at you and shrugs; “nothing, I just missed you."

But you can see the pain and sadness that lingers behind his eyes.

“Steve please” you whisper, looking at him imploringly. “Don’t lie to me. I can see something’s upset you” you press gently.

He shakes his head and shrugs again.

“Steve” you speak a bit more firmly now. “Please I can’t keep doing this."

“Doing what?” He looks confused behind his anger and sadness.

You sigh deeply before answering; “Ever since I came back you’ve managed to somehow be both extremely clingy and extremely distant. You won’t let go of me but you also won’t talk to me. I’m your partner, Steve, you’re supposed to be able to lean on me when you need to. Just talk to me, please, tell me what happened.”

He looks at you blankly, unsure of how to respond.

“You think I’m being too clingy?” He shifts to pull back, letting you slip from his grasp.

“No, no that’s not what I meant” you reach forwards and pull him back against you. “I just mean I want you to be as like emotionally affectionate as you are with the physical affection, if that even makes sense. I just want you to talk to me.”

“So you’re okay with how clingy I've been? Because I know I have been, but I just can’t help it” he looks at you sincerely.

You just nod and give him a warm smile.

“Good,” he pulls you back into his chest, kissing all over your face and head, causing you to giggle and squirm against him.

“Because I’m never letting go of you again” he whispers against the top of your head after you’d finally stopped wriggling.

“I can live with that” you sigh, smiling into his chest. “As long as you promise to actually talk to me as well, okay?”

“Okay, I promise.”

Masterlist

A/N: oops this was a lil longer than I meant it to be and I also kinda took the request in a different direction, sorry! but I hope you still like it, thank you for the request!! <33

p.s. I didn’t proofread this one bc I’m lazy lmao so sorry if there’s any mistakes in there🙈

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

[gaybitchfx]

Yo! I stumbled across your page from your Stranger Things Big Bro series. I just wanted to throw this out there, but honestly feel free to ignore it if you're busy or requests aren't actually open now.

BUT, I'm honestly quite interested to see how Big Bro Y/N would react to Eddie's death, as you very vaguely put in my head from the note on part 2. So, if you're willing I'd love to live through that God awful pain if you write it. :D

Anyways, don't feel pressured to write it or nothing. I do really enjoy your writing though! Keep up the hard work, but remember to take care of yourself!! Stay hydrated, get sleep, and eat proper meals! I'm not afraid to go big bro mode for a random person on the internet! >:(

Note: I was gonna write it one way or another lmao! And I’m keeping myself hydrated and I do get some sleep and I eat proper meals so there’s nothing to worry about 😭. Ngl I actually cried writing this cause Eddie got a lil special place in my heart-

THE BIG BRO FIGURE (pt.3)

Character(s): Eddie Munson

Type of reader: M!Reader

Category: Angst soooo yeahhh

Warning(s): Spoiler of s4 of Stranger Things & mentions of death so don’t blame me if you get spoiled by this!

Edited: ❌

After the 'earthquake' had settled down everyone had to move out from their houses and into the schools auditorium to seek shelter.

Especially those whose homes were destroyed which was yours so you definitely had to stay at the auditorium till everything was settled.

Currently, you were looking around the place looking for Eddie, you even asked people if they've seen him or not and of course they would answer with 'why are you looking for that freak?' or 'he's probably dead somewhere who cares' and that honestly just broke your heart on how everyone viewed Eddie.

He's such a sweet person, but only you, Dustin, Robin, Max, Steve, and his uncle know this. Eventually while looking, you spotted Dustin talking with Eddie's uncle who looked sad. "What happened? Dustin have you seen Eddie? I can't find him anywhere." You asked and placed a hand on Dustin's shoulder. He looked at you, his bottom lip quivering a bit as he sniffled.

You looked over at his uncle and saw that necklace Eddie wore in his hands. "Is he..." Dustin nodded as he stood up and patted your back. "Haha...you're lying right? This is all just some sick twisted joke, right?!" You shouted and gripped both of Dustin's shoulders making him look you in the eyes.

"Y/n...he's dead...I couldn't do anything he wanted to prove he wasn't a coward and stayed back...! He died a hero, Y/n.." Dustin cried as he gripped onto your jacket. Your grip loosened as he stood there, allowing that information to sink in.

Tears quickly filled your eyes as he sat down on the floor and held your head in your hands. Dustin sat next to you and rubbed circles on your back making you sob harder and harder. Knowing Eddie had died broke you and it stung real deep. To think the person you thought of as a little brother just die like that without warning was the most pain you've experienced emotionally.

"Dustin...I don't know what to do..." You cried and looked at Dustin who was crying too.

"Just let it out Y/n...there's nothing both you and I can do about it..."

[butler-trouble]

thank you sm for answering my question, my request is like 68 elvis presley x male reader headcanons where reader is just elvis awakening yk gay or bi, that’s normally the first thing i think abt when i fall for a straight character so i would love to request that!!

THANK YOU AGAIN

Bi/Gay!Elvis Presley Headcanons

Note: Thank you for the request, I really enjoyed this idea! I hope you enjoy, I had fun coming up with it. Also, can we please talk about the gif because 😩

Warning: Bi/gay awakenings that are too cute, the slightest sexual reference, not really nsfw but 18+ just to be safe

══════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*══════

⦿ You are in the audience at Elvis' 68 comeback special with your friend Penelope, within arms reach of him. You've had a major crush on Elvis since his stardom.

⦿ When Elvis sits in a chair onstage, strumming his guitar to Are You Lonesome Tonight, you catch his eye which delays his entry to the song.

⦿ You assume his entranced gaze was towards a female in the audience, typical Elvis, you thought to yourself.

⦿ Elvis had never felt that way about another man before. Something about the way you look at him, a seeming innocence in your eyes with a hint of excitement, stirs feelings in him that he's only ever felt for women before.

⦿ A few lines into the song, Elvis continues to play the tune on his guitar while speaking into the mic. "Some pretty faces out there," Elvis winked in your direction, making your cheeks flush red while the girls surrounding you going wild.

⦿ On the next, more upbeat song, Elvis finds himself struggling to peel his eyes off you. Dancing around, and body heat from the room, caused sweat to build up on you, making wild thoughts rack Elvis' mind. There is no way I can get through this with him looking at me like that, he thought.

⦿ Elvis himself began to drop beads of sweat, singing and playing guitar with his soul, leaning his head back to break eye contact with you to avoid an obvious situation in his leather pants.

⦿ He manages through most of the show, making eye contact with you every once in a while. Penelope playfully smacked your arm in jealousy but ultimately freaked out with you, basking in that Elvis actually flirted with you on stage.

⦿ Elvis finds it hard to stop thinking about you and ends up ranting to Steve Binder about everything, finally admitting aloud that he's attracted to a man. Luckily, Binder has a nephew who is gay, so he knows how to handle the situation. Binder talks with Elvis about accepting himself regardless of what others believe, but the importance of discretion for safety reasons. That Elvis should take risks, life is too short to not chase after someone you want.

⦿ On set the next day, Steve manages to find you in the audience and pulls you aside to send a message from Elvis. "He wants to meet you in his dressing room at the end of filming for the day," Binder says.

⦿ After watching him perform, you do as instructed and wait in a chair in his dressing room until he arrives. When he comes in, he locks the door before stepping towards you.

⦿ "What's your name, baby?" Elvis speaks in his Southern drawl, placing a hand on your face. "Y/N," You breathed out, his face drawing closer to your own. "Pretty name for a pretty boy," He said in a flirtatious tone, brushing a bit of your hair back off your face.

⦿ "Comin' up here with those pretty lil' eyes, doin' me in and changin' everything I thought I knew," Elvis admits, his breath fanning your face. You begin to fluster, cheeks pooling with heat, "That look," He began, stroking his thumb down your cheek and towards the corner of your lips.

⦿ "Doin' somethin' to me that no woman has ever done," His voice more smooth and drawn out. His thumb tracing over your lips before placing his hand back to rest on your cheek. "Would you mind if I stole a kiss from you, baby?" Elvis asked, like a gentleman.

⦿ With your permission, he softly connected his lips with yours that felt like electricity running through you both. Your hands rested on his wrists, your lips fitting perfectly together with his own. You have never felt more blissful than under Elvis' touch.

[thatgirlwithasquid]

tag game: stranger things edition 👻

tagged by @ratbastardbilly and @intothedysphoria (ty guys xx)

1. ride or die ship (your otp): CUNNINGWAY!!! They’re my girls. Chrissy and Heather my beloveds. I have never been so hyped for a ship before and this is the first time I’ve put this much effort into one, but if I don’t advocate for this rarepair then who will? (the answer is bambi. bambi will. but whatever, you get the point)

2. most annoying ship: there isn’t really a ship i find WHOLLY annoying. stancy maybe. i also think jancy and mileven have ran their course and jopper gives me a lil bit of the ick. obvi no hate to the ships or those that ship it!!

3. second favourite ship: ima have to say harringrove, but there are others i like a lot too!!

4. favourite platonic relationship: heather, chrissy & billy. the chaos trio. more should be done with them <3

5. underrated ship: there are so many!! argyle/chrissy (which i am lovingly referring to as pompompinapple, just try and stop me)? byergrove (billy/jonathan)? calicheer (billy/chrissy)??? how can i possibly choose????

6. overrated ship: uhhhh this feels dangerous. but steddie. dont get me wrong, i love this ship, but the boom in works for them was INSANE cause i dont think they have TOO MUCH chemistry in canon (tho there 100% is a good bit and it makes sense)

7. one thing i would change in canon: the blatant lack of care the main cast have for characters outside their group. no empathy for billy, barely anyone looking into heather, characters dying that no one mentions again…

8. something canon did right: I really liked steve and dustin’s dynamic. like, a LOT. they cocked it up a bit in s4 for the sake of ‘haha, dumb steve’ but yeah. theyre sweet :)

9. a thing i’m proud of creating for the fandom: my sideblog @poolsidepanic . i know that its a niche ship but i hope i help other people who love them as much as me actually be able to enjoy their ship and not just… be disappointed when they come up empty handed. the art and little fics and such i make over there make me so happy <3

10. a character who is perfect to me (wouldnt change a thing): heather. sassy, bitchy, yet kindhearted lifeguard? yes. the only thing id change is the DISSERVICE THE DUFFERS GAVE HER WHEN THEY KILLED HER AND IGNORED HER EXISTENCE.

11. the character i relate most to the most and why: steve. just how he responds to the offhanded comments the people he cares about make to him, that they never seem to realise hurt.

12. character i hate most and why: neil, karen, brenner. no explanation needed

13. something ive learned from the fandom: idk. ive always wanted to be a positive person but seeing some of the toxicity in the fandom has made me really want to keep my little blog as positive and safe as i can for everyone. some things we see SUCK but if i can make someones day a lil better id like to? so not really a learn but an encouragement to be nicer wherever i can

14. three tags i seek out on ao3: i dont read a lot of st fanfiction, actually. i havent been in the mood for it for AGES!! but in general im a slow burn, hurt/comfort, angst kind of person. i love the occasional, agonising right person not enough time or some character bashing for the sake of compelling suffering (if done right!!!)

15. a song i strongly associate with my otp/favourite character: ooooh fun!!! ‘Groan’, ‘Wet’ and ‘Maggot’ by Dazey and the Scouts are so Billy. ‘Drunk Walk Home’ by Mitski gives me Chrissy vibes, and ‘Maggot’ again for her tbh (billy and chrissy, my sad beloved blorbos). there arent any songs i associate with cunningway yet tho 😔

tagging: @bigdumbbambieyes @hargrove-mayfields @billyhargrovesupsidedownshadow @every-dayiwakeup and anyone else interested in sharing :)

[avengers-rule103]

ya know i know it was technically vecna speaking because nancy didn't get a chance to even reach for the makeshift rope before getting vecna'd, but no one talks about vecna/steve's lil "nice" as she's climbing up and i think it should be talked about more cause like... was it in the script? was that meant to be vecna/steve just making it more believable that she was fine?? was it just joe on set watching natalia climb up and tryna be supportive?? i need answers. because the idea of it being vecna playing as steve and complimenting nancy makes me giggle just a bit, like "good job.... climbing straight into my trap muahahahaaha!"

[punksarahreese]

hi hello yes this is me asking about your robnance headcanons!!!!! would love to hear them! (also your autistic bff Robin and Eddie ones if you have the time because I just love that a lot)

I would literally die for u anon I’ll give you Ronance here and make another Autistic Eddie Robin post cuz I have lots of thoughts for them

Robin made the first move

As in she was the one to ask Nancy out

But, in true Robin fashion, it was Not Graceful and she stuttered a lot

Which ties into my autistic!Robin headcanon that she has a mild stutter/speech impediment that comes out when she’s talking fast/a lot or nervous

It was very much a “um so t-there’s a new movie coming out tonight- cuz you know I have to know that with my j-job and all - and uh… didyoumaybewannagoseeitwithme?” Kinda thing

Nancy was sitting there just trying to read some book for a class while they waited for Steve and now she’s looking at Robin like she grew two heads

That made Robin feel like she messed up so she started apologizing and “Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have- forget it, I-”

They didn’t talk about it cuz Steve showed up and Nancy never gave her an answer

Until Robin was at home scribbling in her worn out notebook and the phone rang

“Robin?”

To say she was shocked to hear Nancy Wheeler on the other end was an understatement

“H-hey, Nancy…”

“I hate that I left you hanging like that, it was rude. Did you want to go still? The movie doesn’t start until 9 pm.”

Cue lots of awkward rambling and Nancy agreed to pick her up in a couple hours and Robin was losing her lil gay mind <3

For the record it was a good date even when Robin couldn’t help but whisper commentary on the movie

Also maybe Nancy got suuuper blushy and shy when Robin held her hand as they left

Steve was pretty oblivious to them at first

Like he was just happy to see Robin making another friend

And the fact that it was Nancy made it better

He saw how anxious Robin got around her and was 👀 about it but as far as he knew Nancy was as straight as an arrow so how was he supposed to assume they’d ever go on a date

It was actually Eddie who was like “dude, what’s up with those two? How long have they been together?”

Steve: 👁👄👁

Eddie genuinely thought Robin and Nancy had been together for at least a couple months while he was recovering in hospital (post 4x9 when Eddie does stay alive <3)

That was what prompted him to ask Robin who of course became a stuttering mess the second Nancy was mentioned

“Are you dating Nancy? The Nancy Wheeler?”

“I- what? N-no! I mean… we- maybe we’ve been on a c-couple dates but I dunno if she LIKES me…”

Steve thinks Robin is a Royal idiot but it’s just the useless lesbian gene (affectionate) <3

To say Steve was shocked about it is an understatement and he did get a little weird at first

Cuz maybe he was still struggling with remaining feelings for both of them 💀 mans can’t catch a break

But seeing how robin lit up with Nancy and how quickly they learned to work together under pressure and still become friends in the aftermath made him open to Not Ruining Friendships with them

Robin was a lil scared she would lose her best friend if he found out about her and Nancy cuz like… her whole thing was that her and Steve were NOT together so Nancy didn’t hate her but now they’ve pulled an uno reverse 😭

So even if he got a bit quiet for a couple days (which did cause one (1) meltdown for Robin but she never told him about it) steve did come around because he couldn’t be the reason that their newfound friend group fell apart

Nancy loves when Robin wears her clothes

She does roll her eyes whenever Robin complains about them being itchy or too tight but over the months her closet changes ever so slightly

Less scratchy fabrics and more cotton whenever she can because she knows Robin prefers it

She even goes out of her way to make sure she has some oversized sweaters that are still preppy but something her girlfriend might wear 🥺

Cuz something about Robin in her sweaters is just so cute

And maybe Robin makes a habit of stealing one particular sweater very often

It’s this colour blocked sweater in shades of blue and Robin always brings it back when the smell of Nancy’s perfume fades from it

And then she’ll promptly steal it again when it smells like her again <3

I whole heartedly believe in singer/songwriter!robin

She has a cute lil notebook full of lyrics and she’s always carrying it around for when inspiration strikes

There’s quite a few pages dedicated to Nancy from before and after they started dating

But her girlfriend didn’t even know she wrote music or sang because Robin is super shy about it

It was when she started singing along to something Eddie was playing that Nancy was like “holy shit her voice is pretty”

Nancy loves Robin’s voice and hearing her sing really solidified that

And eventually Robin did get comfier and even told Nancy about her songwriting

She never thought it would go anywhere so she always kept it quiet cuz it was just a fun and cathartic thing for her

But on their first anniversary Robin did make her a little mix tape of music that reminded her of Nancy

And the last two songs were ones written about her and sung by Robin <3

If you’re wondering it was Maya’s songs generous heart and hold the sun

She wrote hold the sun when she was realizing she liked Nancy but Nancy still had feelings for Steve and vice versa but thought it documented their journey so she added it

It was truly the one time Robin shared her music with anyone and to say Nancy cried is an understatement

[cantsaythetword]

Bucky Barnes for the ask meme? Also, absolutely feel free to take your time!! You're a busy person with your own life, so no pressure! Thank for being the amazing human you are ^^

Happy the world is always blessed by your presence omg how are you so lovely <3 Here's the Bucky answers!

on a scale of 1-10, how ticklish are they? I'd say this guy is a solid 7.5? Like he isn't the MOST TICKLISH LIL LAD EVER but you can get this man LAUGHING if you get him good.

where is their most ticklish spot(s)? His armpits are his worst by far!

which spots are they not ticklish? Bucky isn't particularly sensitive on his legs? Like his thighs/knees/calves aren't too bad for him. His neck also isn't nearly as ticklish as most peoples (though he'll still scrunch up instinctively if you do tickle it).

what is their laugh like? If the tickling isn't too intense, he's got a deeper laugh that gets kinda croaky sometimes? But if you get him good it turns a bit squawky and giggly (but still sort of deep).

do they enjoy tickling? if yes, is it a fun platonic/familial thing, or kinky thing to them, or can it be both depending on the circumstance? Bucky for sure uses tickles as a flirty thing, but only the playful just-enough-to-get-you-giggling tickles. The proper squeezy tickles are purely platonic for him. He will tickle pretty much anyone, but only lets people he's really close to get him back.

are they more often a lee or ler, generally? Definitely more of a ler, but doesn't mind the occasional tickle attack if he trusts the person it's coming from.

who is someone in their life that they tickle often? STEVEN GRANT ROGERS Bucky swears that man is a walking tickle spot and he just loves making Steve crack.

who is someone in their life that they get tickled by often? Again Steve is the most likely, but the closer he gets with Sam the more tickles he receives (Sam claims it's cause it's funny to see a supersoldier get taken down by a kid's game, but in all honesty it's cause he knows Bucky needs to laugh more)

does the word “tickle” or any variation of embarrass them? Not when he's the one saying it, but someone asking him if he's ticklish just GETS to him!

are they embarrassed about their ticklishness, and do they try to deny/hide it? He is a little embarrassed, and definitely denies it (especially around strangers). But if he's with people he's comfortable with he'll deny but won't hide (and might even hint that he IS denying the truth to prompt an attack)

would gentle tickling or rough tickling affect them more? While rough tickles definitely make him laugh, something about the really gentle tickles gets the poor guy sqEALING

is there a specific spot that they enjoy being tickled, either exclusively or more than other spots? what is it? He really loves having the sides of his ribs gently tickled. Which is a dangerous game because go too high and you're hitting his death spot (armpits).

is there a spot that they can’t stand to be tickled, either because it’s just too sensitive, or it’s uncomfortable/painful/etc? what is it? If someone tickles too roughly under/around his left arm (the one he lost) it starts to hurt and feel like it's pulling on the scars. But get the right balance and it's super tickly for him (in a good way).

would they ever purposefully bug a friend/partner/sibling into tickling them, and if so, how would they go about it? For suuuuure! Bucky is definitely a tickle-me-as-revenge kind of guy. He'll initiate an attack in the hopes that they'll get him back immediately.

does teasing affect them? Depends on his mood. Sometimes he'll bant back and forth about it, other times he will nervously laugh and look away from his teaser.

[demobatman]

coming in here to scream abt s4 tomorrow cause i have no one else to yell to and i’m going a bit feral

they lay a hand on steve eddie robin and dustin my little gay family i’m gonna commit some sort of federal crime

also whos ur predictions for the 5 deaths?? 👀

like i’m sorry murray i love u but ur gone buddy

(also ur page always makes me laugh and u seem rlly cool and ur art is <333333)

hi bestie this is gonna be long (and thank you youre too kind stop 😭😭) uuuh, its not looking Great for our lil trio but im living in denial of the fact that one or two will probably die. i really dont think itll be steve considering how much the duffers and shawn levy love him but whos to say theyll keep their loyality. as for other characters, yes literally murray is a gonner, but: most likely dmitri i cant see them doing anything with his character any further, hell im scared for the entire russia crew honestly but if they touch joyce or hopper im writing an email so hateful. i also think jasons gonna die based on the shot of lucas looking up and screaming, assuming hes getting vecna'd, which is superb. hell maybe theyll kill of ted wheeler thatd be a gift to all of us. as for the main cast...... i feel like max, lucas, and dustin are the only ones theyd actually kill off bc i dont see them letting millie, noah, or finn off the show especially bc of their popularity. but if they killed mike i feel like it be an amazing plot device for season 5 but id miss him so dont. i also think jonathan might be a contender for dying considering how hard theyre pushing stancy lol but i hope they DONT for will and joyces sake 😭😭😭. sorry this was so long im so frantic about character deaths bc they all seem plausible but i dont want anyone to die. ugh. final answer? jason, murray, eddie, lucas, and dmitri with the possibilities of jonathan, steve/robin, max, or dustin or maybe not dustin??? god maybe just argyle. LMAO IM SORRY ITS SO MUCH I HAVE NO IDEA