#steve is a grad student

[thezombieprostitute]

Warnings: Angst, Unrequited love. Please let me know if I missed any!

The 40's New Years Eve party had been your idea. You'd seen it advertised around campus and thought it might be your chance to finally get a dance with Steve. Maybe more. But there he was, dancing with everyone except you.

The two of you were graduate students sharing an office. You couldn't believe such a handsome man would be so interested in history. You figured he should be modeling or something. But the conversations you had together, discussions of teaching methods, comparing notes for classes, they all showed you he was more than just good looking. He was incredibly intelligent and kind. He was everything you've ever wanted.

Unfortunately, when you did ask him out, he told you "no". That he thought of you more as a little sister than anything. That he wasn't looking for a relationship, anyways. He just wanted to focus on his degree. You respected his wishes and kept up the friendly banter. Even when you didn't feel it.

Maybe he knew you were hoping for a dance and that's why he was avoiding you. He probably saw through your asking him to the dance as an attempt to spark an interest that he just didn't have. So he kept himself busy dancing with everyone except you in order to prevent you from asking him to dance. It's the only thing that makes sense.

You finally get yourself to look away from the scene. Maybe Steve's got the right priorities. You should be focusing on your coursework and your teaching right now. A relationship with your office-mate would definitely be a complication you just don't have the time or energy for.

The rest of the winter break is spent getting yourself in the right headspace. You let yourself grieve for what could have been. Then you renew your will to get your degree and teach the best classes for the undergrads.

If Steve notices any changes in your interactions, he doesn't comment on them. You're certain he's relieved he doesn't have to worry about your unwanted affections anymore. But that's only because he's careful to never show you the regret he feels.

Sequel: Just for You

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[bittersweet-in-boston]

Grad student Bucky is working the bar at a swanky charity auction, when he meets the man of his dreams and flirts with him over mixology. @steverogersbingo

[midsummer-semantics]

Fortune Favors the Bold

Back with part 2 of Steddie Kinktober Bingo! Cross-posted on ao3 as well!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Professor Steve Harrington, Grad Student Eddie Munson, Teacher-Student Relationship, Pre-Relationship, still but we're getting there, Phone Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Eddie Munson Has a Praise Kink, dom/sub dynamics, Dom Steve Harrington, Sub Eddie Munson, WELCOME BACK SUB EDDIE, Mutual Masturbation, Jerk off Instruction, Kinktober, Marijuana, Eddie smokes because duh but he's completely in control of his actions

Summary:

Eddie’s probably an idiot for doing this, but once he found out Steve’s dirty little secret, he replied to the last one with a secret message of his own:

That can still be arranged.

Or: The semester may have ended, but Eddie's obsession with his professor definitely hasn't.

[divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics]

Keep reading below for the fic! ⤵️

Eddie’s probably an idiot for doing this, but once he found out Steve’s dirty little secret, he replied to the last one with a secret message of his own:

That can still be arranged.

He then sent Steve a quick email saying “Thank you so much for the private lessons. The last research project is done. I look forward to working with you closely in the future,” and then closed his laptop and screamed into his pillow for two straight minutes.

It was bold. More bold than the claim that landed him in those private sessions, but maybe not as bold as Steve had been.

His professor, of course, one-ups him again a few days later with a reply:

His personal number. Steve sent Eddie his personal fucking phone number.

Eddie screams into his pillow again for good measure.

It takes a week and a half of spiraling, several started and deleted texts, an aborted call to his best friend Chrissy (because honestly, he can’t tell her about this, it’s a complete breach of trust with Steve), and maybe a few too many hits off a joint before Eddie finally plucks up the courage to put that number to use.

It’s three days until Christmas and Eddie’s stoned in his childhood bedroom, his uncle at work because even this close to the holiday, the old man can’t catch a break.

He’d taken screenshots of all the secret messages and put them in a locked folder on his phone, reading back through them periodically to use as jerk-off material. Steve really did have a vivid imagination that he managed to convey in so few words. Shakespeare would give his left arm for half of the homoeroticism that Steve can produce in two lines of prose.

Eddie stubs the roach out, leans back against the wall — because 16-year-old Eddie didn’t have a bed frame with a headboard so 29-year-old Eddie gets to go without while he’s visiting Wayne — and pulls up Steve’s contact.

It’s only 8:15pm, a perfectly reasonable time to contact a professor about a homework question. That is, if it wasn’t winter break, and Eddie was still his student, and he actually had a homework question to ask him.

Whatever, he thinks. Steve told him to call him if he needs anything. And Eddie is in bed, half-chubbed from the messages he was re-reading for the millionth time, hazy from the weed, and needing to hear his professor’s voice even for a second.

He presses the number to dial before he can think twice about it, holding the phone up to his ear as the line rings, readjusts himself in his boxers, and waits. 

“Hello, Steve Harrington speaking,” a voice answers after the third ring.

Eddie’s heart skips a beat, momentarily rendered speechless. For some reason, he had it in his mind that Steve gave him a phony number, that maybe he imagined the entire thing and was living out some kind of insane vivid dream for the last few weeks.

“Hello?” Steve says again, knocking Eddie out of his momentary stupor.

“Hello, professor,” Eddie chirps, cringing when he realizes how eager he sounds. He tries to backtrack. “Sorry, I know it’s late, and you’re probably with family, and — shit, why did I think this was a good idea—”

“Whoa, Eddie?” Steve interrupts, not sounding the least bit angry, but almost… happy? Definitely surprised, but not in a bad way, Eddie thinks.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “It’s me. Sorry. I know you told me to call you if I needed anything, but I wasn’t sure if you were serious.”

“I was serious,” Steve says. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t think you’d actually take up the offer.”

“Oh? Why not?”

If Eddie’s phone had a chord, he’d be twirling it around his finger as he settles more comfortably against the wall and his bed, legs splayed out in front of him over the flannel sheets.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re calling instead,” Steve prompts gently. “What do you need?”

So many things, Eddie’s mind supplies.

“I- uh…” he stammers instead, trying to come up with a good reason to have bothered his (former) professor this late during holiday break. “I wanted to know if you’ll be available next semester to do more private lessons. Seeing as I’m not on your roaster for the spring.”

There’s some shuffling in the background that Eddie can’t decipher before Steve speaks up. “Oh? Well, I don’t see why not. I’m only teaching two classes so I can focus on my next manuscript, so I’ll have a bit of free time that I’d be happy to dedicate to my favorite.” There’s a short pause before Steve tacks on, “Student.”

Eddie tries to hide the gasp he lets out by pulling the phone away from his face, reaching down with his free hand to cup his straining erection through his boxers. Even just hearing Steve’s voice is enough to have him leaking into the fabric. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

“Great,” Eddie chokes, a little high pitched even in his own ears. “Great. I’ll still be free Thursday evenings if that works for you.”

Steve hums, more shuffling happening for a moment. “Sure, that works for me. But, Eddie, I can’t exactly offer you reprieve on a project or anything if you’re not my student next semester. And while I would love to assume you’re asking for the sheer opportunity to learn, I have to ask…”

There’s a pause, during which Eddie’s heart migrates to his throat.

“What do you really hope to gain from these private lessons?”

Eddie can feel himself starting to sweat, even though he’s only wearing his boxers and the heater in the old trailer is shit.

“I—” he mutters, “I guess… um… whatever you’re willing to give me?” He says it like a question, but the alternative is begging for something, anything, that Steve is willing to provide.

Steve tsks on the other end of the line, how voice slightly deeper, huskier when he speaks again. “Come on, Eddie. You can do better than that. Where’s all those words you poured into your research projects? All that confidence when you’re claiming Jonson was a self-important asshole for publishing his complete works in seven volumes?”

Eddie bites his lip hard to prevent a whine from escaping, squeezing the base of his dick harder to keep from coming.

“Dunno what my options are,” Eddie tries. He’s fishing, he knows he is, deflecting in the hopes that Steve just tells him what to do so Eddie can let him take the reins and he doesn’t have to think. Between the weed coursing through his bloodstream and Steve’s voice coursing through his synapses, he’s entirely out of his own control, and he needs more of this weightless oblivion.

“Well,” Steve grunts. There’s more shuffling and a quiet goran. “I can talk to the department about a GA placement. Make you my assistant for the semester.”

Eddie’s almost taken out of the fantasy by that offer. Grad assistants get tuition reprieve and a regular paycheck. Normally those positions only go to PhD students, but a GA at the MA level would severely reduce the debt he’s going into for this program.

“Or,” Steve continues, “I could offer an independent study course. One unit to help knock one of those extra required ones down for graduation.”

That’s also a fantastic offer. Some of those units are meant to go toward writing his thesis, but he doesn’t want to take them all at once and end up paying more in the long run.

But that’s not why Eddie called him. It’s not even why he took Steve up on his initial offer for private lessons. He wanted to learn, sure, but mostly he wanted to spend time with the older man. He wanted his attention solely on him, and he has it right now, unmitigated by academic or bureaucratic red tape, and he wants to keep that going.

“With respect, sir,” Eddie hedges, knowing this is already a dangerous game that they’re playing, but too down bad to consider quitting now. “Getting to spend more time with you is all the incentive I really need.”

It’s quiet on the other line for a moment, long enough for Eddie to start panicking again.

“Tell me, Eddie,” Steve says, his tone still deep and inviting. “Are you willing to be a good boy for me?”

This time, Eddie doesn’t prevent a low groan from escaping him, slouching on the bed as he squeezes his cock again, his legs falling open automatically.

“Yes, sir,” he mutters, almost a whine, but not quiet. Not yet.

“I meant what I said, you know. In those little messages. You really don’t know what you do to me, baby boy,” Steve rasps. Eddie thinks he hears the click of a bottle opening, a soft groan breathed into the phone’s speaker right into Eddie’s fuzzy brain, before unmistakable slow, slick sounds begin. “The amount of times I’ve had to fuck my fist right after you leave my office…” Steve continues, his voice a little more ragged than before. “God, the janitors would be pissed at the messes I’ve made.”

Eddie awkwardly shoves his boxers down one-handed and kicks them off haphazardly, grasping his own copiously leaking cock and giving it a few quick, over-dry strokes. The friction makes him hiss even as he moans.

“Oh, sweet thing,” Steve coos. “Too eager to use lube?”

It’s like Steve really is watching him; how does he know Eddie’s just raw-dogging his dick like this? He’s almost 30, he knows better than to jerk one out without something to ease the glide. But his lube is in his bathroom bag, and he’d have to put the phone down to get it open, and he doesn’t want to miss a second of hearing Steve jerking off for him.

“Why don’t you put a couple of fingers between those pretty lips for me? Get your hand nice and wet before you hurt yourself,” Steve instructs.

Eddie has three fingers in his mouth before he can mutter a yes, sir, but he tries to get the words around the intrusion anyway, burning with mortification at his eagerness when he hears Steve chuckle in his ear.

“That’s it, baby boy. Suck on those pretty fingers for me. I bet you look so good with your mouth full.”

Eddie can feel the drool starting to collect between his fingers and slide down his palm, his eyes rolling back at the combination between having his mouth stuffed and Steve’s voice whispering filthy praise in his ear.

“Alright, baby. Now get your hand on your cock and let me hear you sing for me.”

Eddie pulls his fingers from his mouth and wraps his wet hand around himself, the glide much easier. The moan he lets out is entirely too loud, too telling of how turned on he is, but he can’t stop it. 

“That’s it, pretty one. Let me hear you. God,  you sound so good.”

Eddie can hear the slick sounds of Steve beating off on the other line, the less than quiet groans the older man lets out in response to Eddie’s too-loud ones. 

“I bet you look so pretty all laid out, touching your cock. Are you naked, Eddie?”

Eddie gasps, twisting his fist around the head of his dick and nodding dumbly. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Are you wet for me?”

Eddie looks down at this cock, the head deep red and spurting pre-come like a leaky faucet.

“So fucking wet,” Eddie pants, eyes squeezing shut so he can focus on the sounds Steve breathes into the phone.

“I want to eat you out, baby boy. Would you like that? Bend you over my desk and spank your ass ‘til it’s red before tongue fucking you ‘til you come all over yourself?”

“Steve —” Eddie keens, feeling his balls draw tight, right on the edge.

“Gonna come for me, baby? That’s okay. Come whatever you want to. I’m not stopping until I’ve finished,” Steve says. It sounds vaguely threatening, but holy fuck, is it exactly the permission Eddie needs to trigger his orgasm. Come shoots out of him, landing over his fist, stomach, chest, even a bit on his neck as he moans and mewls through it.

“Fuck yeah,” Steve mutters, before loosing a deep groan of his own that lets Eddie know his professor is coming as well.

There’s a lot of heavy breathing between them stuttering down the phone line as both men attempt to catch their breath. Eddie needs a shower, maybe a baptism after the religious experience that is hearing Steve Harrington come.

“You okay, pretty one?’ Steve mutters after several agonizing minutes.

“Mhmm,” Eddie hums, mouth dry and body completely wrung out. “Yeah, ‘m perfect.”

“Yeah you are,” Steve agrees, that delicate condescension back in his tone. Eddie can feel himself being tugged toward sleep, and of course it’s like Steve already knows. “Clean yourself up a bit, baby, and then you can sleep all you want.”

“Will you—” he starts and then stops, not wanting to voice his thoughts out loud and come off too needy after everything.

“I’ll stay on the phone with you until you’re tucked back in bed,” Steve answers, all-knowing as always. “And after Christmas we can talk about your private lessons for the spring.”

Eddie doesn’t meant to whine, he doesn’t, but Steve just fucked his brains out without being anywhere near him and he doesn’t want to wait four days before he talks to him again.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay. You can still call me whenever you need something. That offer still stands,” Steve promises.

“Okay,” Eddie replies. “Thank you, sir.”

“Anytime, Eddie. Really.”

[munsonfamilyband]

Following the release of the Dustin book, I needed to reblog this because I feel so vindicated

This is very short but I needed to share: Steve and Robin have a silent language, all of their friends are very confused by it but Eddie spends enough time with both of them that he has learned how to decipher some of it. Certain looks that mean “stop” or “I love you” or “you’re an idiot” but there are still some looks that he can’t get. Eventually, he does ask and all they say is “we gossip”.

I adore the idea of Steve and Robin using silent conversations to bitch and gossip at work. She didn’t think she would like gossip, but Steve is a mean girl at heart who LOVES gossip and she finds that when it’s with him, it’s fun. They never share the gossip outside of their silent conversations so it really isn’t gossip at all, but she won’t tell Steve that. Eddie silently wishes they would gossip out loud because he used to find bitchy Steve very attractive, and he misses it.

[worksby-d]

Give Me More Than Just Some Butterflies

Pairing: Steve Rogers x grad student!Reader

Summary: You begin to learn the shy Steve Rogers from your art class isn't so shy with you. Read the setup for these two here 🫶

Warnings: Age gap, unprotected sex I fear, 18+

Word count: ~700

Your chest rises and falls as you take in and let out slow, steady breaths. You’re sprawled out on your bed with Steve beside you, still half on top of you. His flushed, damp skin presses against yours. 

You can’t help but let out a quiet laugh, thinking to yourself thank God you let him take you out first if this was the return. 

But his first thoughts are somewhere else. When he finally speaks up, his voice is low and rough as he lifts his head to look down at you. 

“Was that okay?”

You slowly blink up at him, not immediately following what he’s asking.

“What?”

He drops his forehead against your shoulder and breathes out a small laugh. His hand on your hip squeezes gently. 

“It’s been a while,” he admits. “I feel like I got a little carried away.”

“Oh,” you giggle, but stop yourself not wanting it to seem like you’re laughing at him. He was a little rough, sure, but it was good. “No, I liked it.”

His look of relief is cute. He leans closer to you again, brushing his lips against yours. “Yeah?”

You nod and complete the kiss. “Yeah.”

His response comes in the form of trailing slow kisses along your jaw and down your neck. 

His deliberate movements coax a gasp out of you. “Steve–”

He smiles against your skin. “Hm?”

You feel the bed shift as he moves – His leg that’s resting between your own nudges against your thigh, guiding you to spread your legs and make room for him between them again. 

As you follow his lead, you can feel a faint ache that’s setting in from how thoroughly he fucked you the first time, but it’s not enough to impede your desire for it again. 

You tilt your head, giving him better access to your neck and collarbone. Your hand slips between your bodies to find him hard again. He lets out a deep groan when your fingers wrap around him, stroking gently. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters. 

“Think you can handle one more round, old man?” You tease, referencing the first night you talked.

“See, I knew you were thinking about my age,” he scoffs. 

He rolls his hips, pressing his cock against your wet pussy. He gives you a second before thrusting into you in one deep stroke. A cocky smirk appears on his face hearing your loud moan and he lifts his head to watch a look of pleasure take over you. 

His name falls from your lips again, this time as a whimper. 

He groans, feeling your fingertips dig into his sides as you hold onto him. “God, you feel so good.”

He moves torturously slow at first, making sure you feel every inch of his cock dragging in and out of your tight cunt. He holds a hand against your waist as he sets a steady pace. 

Writhing beneath him, you arch your back, trying to feel him even deeper. “Please,” you beg. 

“Please what?” He asks in a teasing tone. 

“Fuck me, please.”

“What do you think I’m doing, sweetheart?”

Asshole.

“Harder,” you plead. 

He hums, acting like he’s thinking about it, and he ultimately decides to oblige. His lips meet yours again for a deep kiss as he snaps his hips forward, harder this time. 

As his movements become more intense, the room fills with the obscene sounds of his hips meeting yours and heavy breaths from both of you. 

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Just like that. Good girl.”

It doesn’t take long for you to feel like you’re right on the edge of coming for him again. You whine as the overstimulation begins to set it. 

“Steve– I’m–”

“I know,” he pants, fucking you even harder. “Let go for me.”

That’s all you need. Pleasure crashes over you in waves as you cry out his name. 

Your climax spurs his own. His hips stutter and his movements come to an abrupt halt as he spills inside you.

Silence takes over as you both focus on catching your breath again. 

It’s a chuckle from Steve that pulls you out of your blissful daze. 

“I think the question should be whether you can keep up with me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

Through heavy breaths, you let out a laugh. “No fucking kidding.”

part three >>

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby @pursuedbyamemoryy

[moonstruckme]

Okay, very self indulgent but poly!Steddie and the reader gets a masters degree but her family doesn’t come to graduation? Nobody came to mine and it felt pretty sad to see my friends with families but hey! the reader has steddie

Hi angel, I'm sorry you felt alone. Congratulations on getting your masters!!

poly!Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 624 words

Eddie’s still yawning while Steve half-drags him through a row of filled seats. He lets his boyfriend apologize for the both of them as they shuffle past and knock knees with strangers. 

Steve is as huffy as if Eddie’s the one who made them late—as if Eddie spent ten minutes fussing over his hair while his boyfriend idled in the driveway—but damned if they don’t find two seats smack in the middle of the row anyway. 

Eddie skims the rows of graduates. “Where’s she sitting?” 

“I don’t know.” Steve fusses with the flowers—the ones he won’t let Eddie hold, despite the fact that Eddie was the one who went to the grocery store at eight this morning to get them. “There’s not that many grad students, we should be able to see her. Shit, I should have gotten a program.” 

“I got you,” Eddie soothes, passing Steve the leaflet he snatched from a table on their way in. Steve takes it without comment. Eddie’s about to snark at him, but when Eddie yawns again Steve leans to the side, offering Eddie his shoulder as a pillow. 

Eddie smiles and kisses his boyfriend’s cheek. “You’re welcome, asshole,” he says warmly. 

“So many speeches,” Steve mutters. He’s just as tired as Eddie—seriously, whose idea was it to have your ceremony at ten in the morning?—but twice as grumpy. He perks up, though, when he looks up from the program. “There she is.” 

“Hm?” Eddie picks his head up from Steve’s shoulder, looking out over the rows of graduate students. 

He doesn’t know how he didn’t spot you before. This time, his eyes find you like a compass finds north. You’re turned around in your seat, looking up into the crowd of friends and families with a searching gaze. Your lips have a sad little pinch at one corner. With everyone around you radiating pride and excitement, you look small. 

“Hey!” Eddie shouts. Steve flushes, shushing him. “Hey, that’s my girl!”

“Shut up,” Steve hisses, covering Eddie’s mouth with a hand like Eddie won’t just lick it (he does). “Don’t yell, idiot.” 

“Look, she’s looking!” 

Steve joins Eddie, almost resignedly, in putting his hands up for you to see as your eyes skim the area of seats the shout had come from until they finally land on your boyfriends. 

Eddie waves enthusiastically. “Hey,” he says again, quieter now. 

You light up. Your smile bursts across your face, bright and beaming and the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen. He and Steve both mirror it like the fools they are. You wave back at them, and when you eventually turn around in your seat, you look just as happy to be there as everyone else. 

“She looks really good,” Steve says in a reverent tone. 

Eddie scoffs. “What else is new?” 

They’re both a little bit starstruck by you, Eddie thinks. Steve maybe didn’t have as much trouble as Eddie did finishing high school, but neither of them have ever worked as hard as you have in getting your degree. More often than not, it was Eddie who heated up pizza rolls, allegedly for himself but really to push on you so you’d take a study break, and Steve who drove onto campus to bring you coffee between classes. You really earned this. It’s nice to see you basking in it a little. 

There are speeches. Some girl, some dean, blah blah blah. Eddie dozes on Steve’s shoulder until your row stands up to go onstage, and Steve strangles the flowers in his hand as they approach your letter of the alphabet. 

When your name crackles through the microphone, Eddie whistles loudly enough to make the lady in front of them cover her ears. Steve joins him.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL OUT MY NAME ♛

(Book #2 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Series)

CEO!bachelor!steve × fem!college grad!reader

MODERN AU • 18+ | BOOK #1 (e.m.)

slight age gap (Steve is 31, reader is 23); reader goes by the nickname "Sweets"

CW: slight age gap relationship, drinking, smoking, gambling, physical altercations, manipulation, abuse (DV, emotional, financial, mental), profanities, eventual smut

*loosely inspired by sara cate’s salacious players club*

↳001 (PROLOGUE) // 002 // 003 // 004 // 005 // 006 // 007 EPILOGUE

Summary: 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄. Steve Harrington has the WORST luck with the ladies. His high school sweetheart left him for another dude, his former fuck buddy married his roommate, and his dream girl is a lesbian. ‘King Steve’ is losing hope. That is until he meets you — a newly graduated university student from Seattle — when your paths cross on a fateful night in Sin City. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... that is until your risky business trickles over to Hawkins, Indiana, a town your best friend knows of a little too well.

theme song: call out my name by the weeknd

tag list is open 💌✨

Chapter 001: PROLOGUE

word count: 1.7k words

♛

Winter 2024

“WATCH OUT INDIANAPOLIS — you're about to get... absolutely SOAKED!”

The booming voice of a man in Steve’s bedroom stirs him awake.

Letting out a ferocious yawn, The King rubs his eyes free of the annoying crust in the corner of his sockets, flopping around one more time before doing his routine stretch.

“Google,” Steve commands. “Turn off the TV.”

The TV immediately switches off. It’s nothing personal to meteorologist Marcus Bailey, but if Steve ever needed an accurate forecast of Indianapolis, all he would have to do is look outside his penthouse window. And that, after brushing his teeth, is just what he does.

"G'morning Indy,” he sighs happily on his balcony before going back inside.

Steve then makes his way over to the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast.

“Google,” he calls out again. “Open the curtains, please.”

Google replies:

“Opening curtains. Good morning — Steve.”

"Google, what's my schedule looking like today?" "Google, text Dustin." “Google, what is the weather looking like in Nevada?” “Google, turn on my shower tunes.”

The best thing about not living with Eddie Munson anymore, is that Steve can shamelessly sing Amy Winehouse in the shower without being hounded about it.

“We only saaaid GOODBYE, with WORDS!” Steve sings, confidently off-key. “I died a hundred times! You go back to her, and I goooo baaack toooo…”

"Scanning fingerprint...”

an automated voice announces at the entrance of Steve's walk-in closet.

Swish...

The door slides open. Sauntering his way inside, Steve ventures for some slick black athleisure down to the shoes, his usual musky cologne, and some matching sunglasses (despite the gloomy forecast prediction).

Black. 🎶

Steve Harrington is ready for the day.

---

"Google, make reservations for 3 people at Tony's Steakhouse at 7pm please."

All Steve had left to do for the day now was grocery shop. Which was always a hassle. Because sometimes, the store doesn't have the specific brand he's looking for so the shopper has to opt for an alternate version. Or sometimes, the shopper assigned to him that day chooses produce that is nearing its expiration date making every fruit in his bag a mushy mess. It doesn't happen too often, but it sure feels inconvenient as hell when it does. There are worse problems in life though, so Steve really can't complain.

*Ring, ring. Ring, ring*

The very distinct and custom ringtone has Steve bolting across the room to answer the call. One of his best friends was on the other line.

"Yello?" he says into the phone.

"Hey, it's Shy Girl," comes a voice. "Eddie and I are pulling in."

"Pull off to the side. Valet's got it. I'll send you guys up."

A bottle of cabernet sauvignon a la Steve awaits the pair when they make their way over. Consider it a Tony's pre-game.

"GameWorld stock is up 4% today,” Steve's buddy, and owner of Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Eddie Munson announces as the two clink glasses. "I don’t have much faith in it though, figure I’ll get my pie slices from actual grocery stores. Like Meijer.”

“Everyone's always gonna need groceries,” Steve points out. "Definitely. Just don't day trade. Not now."

"Ooh, you hear that, Eds?" Shy Girl nudges him. "You gotta be careful where you put your money."

"I gotta be careful with my money, period," Eddie smirks. "You're a danger to my pockets, angel."

"Oh but you love me," she says.

"Yeah," Eddie gives in, grabbing his lover's dainty digits, trailing his fingers across hers, and rubbing the glistening rock that took up most of her left hand on the distal side. "I sure do."

"I'm just... so proud of us," Steve sappily reflects. "So much has happened over the past two years and we've all come so far."

"Yeah," Shy Girl agrees. "And it's about fucking time we celebrate."

"I agree," Eddie chimes in, raising his glass once again. "This weekend trip is going to be... one for the books."

"Viva Las Vegas," Steve toasts. "Cheers."

"Viva Las Vegas!"

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Black and red.

They're the two colors that occupy your closet the most. But of course, after graduating from Washington State University (or Wazzu, for short), you expected nothing less.

You could do with some more sequins though, you think to yourself as you pack your bags.

"What do you think of this, Sweets?"

Peering over your shoulder, you see that your best friend, Elle has started festivities early, managing to hold two glasses of champagne in one hand, and six-inch stilletoes in the other.

"Can't take the party out of the girl, that's for damn sure," you respond.

When you left Seattle to attend WSU Pullman, Elle was your only friend in business class. Mainly because the class was predominantly for dudes, but eventually you found out that you two have a lot in common.

Elle is everything you would want in an older sister figure: she is both book smart and wise, she is sexy, and she eats men for breakfast. And, now that she's about to celebrate the launching of her lingerie business (along with her Dirty 30s Era), and you're about to enter your new-grad era, you two are hitting up Las Vegas to go ham together one last time.

It's all so bittersweet. You owe everything to the Warrens, having taken you in when you were a lost undergrad. It also sucked quite a bit not having a support system after graduating high school. You and Elle were all each other has. Which makes this inevitable separation so much more painful.

"Are you sure you're okay with Vegas by the way?" you question. "I know since the split, being surrounded by gorgeous girls 24/7 can kinda be triggering.”

"Don't worry about it, love," she shakes it off. "The past is in the past. This is a new era of me."

Cheers to that. Clinking your airport-pregame champagne glasses with one another, you raise a toast to yourselves, celebrating how far the two of you have come over the past four years.

"To friendship."

"To friendship."

"To being elegant and educated."

"To elegance and education."

"And to being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives."

You giggle as you raise your glass of champagne even higher.

"To being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives," you two take a sip at the same time. "And no matter how near and no matter how far, we're always gonna be besties."

"I love you, Sweets."

"I love you too, Isabelle."

divider from @plum98

🏷️ taglist: @potatobeanpie @xblueriddlex @angietherose @winchester-angel @aactuaaltraash @hugdealer @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic @mediocredreams @bl0ssomanddie @corkadymu @eddiesguitarskills @mrsjellymunson @cadence73 @m-chmcl-rmnc @n-slayaaaaa @corrodedcoffincumslut @kennedy-brooke okay i think i tagged everybody

10/23/2024 -- @micheledawn1975 @maisiepotatobeans @1deverland just updating the tag list :))

[mcrdvcks]

wip's folder

⏾ - oneshot ☁︎ - series ✶ - not much written/only idea ۶ৎ - request ♪ - on back burner

completed/waiting for upload:

my boy only breaks my favorite toys ⏾ - matt murdock x reader: After Midland Circle, Matt is determined never to let anyone close again—especially you. Despite his constant attempts to push you away, you can’t help being drawn into his dangerous world. But when your involvement nearly costs you your life, Matt is forced to confront the feelings he’s desperately tried to bury.

two sugars ⏾ - bucky barnes x reader: As the Avengers team medic it's your job to take care of everyone. So why does Bucky feel like he gets special treatment? Surely a medic wouldn't know the exact way he likes his tea.

bergamot ⏾۶ৎ - bucky barnes x reader: You haven't seen Bucky for almost 2 months because you've been away on a mission for the UN. Bucky is miserable—the team has only known him for 2 weeks but they can tell that something on his phone is making him smile.

in progress:

i love you, in every life ☁︎♪ - weapon x and scientist reader

bound by starlight ☁︎♪ - anakin skywalker/darth vader x senator!reader: You, a senator for the Republic, and Anakin were married during the Clone Wars. But, in trying to save you from dying in childbirth he turned into Darth Vader. Your children were sent away for protection, leaving you alone to work with the Rebellion in secret—no one can know that you're alive. But when you come face to face with Leia and Luke after the destruction of the Death Star, you're afraid the secret of their heritage is will reveal itself. Especially after Vader finds out you're alive and will stop at nothing to get what he wants. You. i got a little writer's block, but so far there are 8 chapters!

ours ⏾♪ - joel miller x reader/no outbreak au: As a grad student at University of Texas, guys your age aren't known for being the brightest. After giving up on dating, a flat tire changes everything.

be my, be my baby ⏾☁︎ - bucky barnes x reader: Now that the team knows you and Bucky are married, they learn very quickly about your strange marriage. part 2 to electric touch

somewhere only we know ⏾☁︎ - bucky barnes x reader: As Howard's younger sister, you are often in the shadows. You prefer it that way; you prefer the quiet and not being recognized. Until one day when you meet a Sergeant who can't seem to ignore you. fix-it for the first avenger - aka bucky and steve live

dandelion ⏾ - bucky barnes x reader: You moved to Bucharest for a fresh start when you meet Bucky, your neighbor in 4B.

long story short ⏾ - bucky barnes x reader: You are the congresswoman for the 12th congressional district of New York. Bucky Barnes was just sworn in as the congressman for the 8th district. You think he's underqualified and clueless, but he wants to prove you wrong.

timeless ☁︎ - bucky barnes x reader: You, Bucky, and Steve are childhood friends who grew up together in Brooklyn. When the war starts, and the three of you start to do your part in the army, circumstances tear you all apart - Bucky falling off the train, Steve going down in the plane, and you alone for the first time in your life. But, when an organization takes an interest in your DNA, you find yourself more lost than before. Because you aren't you anymore. an idea spanning from captain america: the first avenger and onwards. fix-it for civil war mutant!widow!reader

bad reviews ⏾✶♪ - benjamin poindexter x reader: You live across the street from Dex, and he's taken a liking to watching you from his window.

morally grey, god complex, successful ⏾☁︎ - matt murdock x reader: parts 5, 6, & 7 to my oneshot series

false god ⏾♪ - matt murdock x reader: You adopt a dog who forms an attachment to your neighbor Matt.

bad for business ⏾✶♪ - matt murdock x reader: You’ve been in love with Matt for years, but he always kept you at arm’s length. When you start pulling away, he panics—realizing he may have pushed the only person who truly saw both sides of him too far.

something in the way ☁︎♪ - matt murdock x reader: You're a former Black Widow who has started a new life in New York City—as a social worker. When you learn that some of the kids in the system have been treated unfairly by the police, you take matters into your own hands. But Daredevil doesn't agree with your methods.

labyrinth ⏾♪ - matt murdock x reader: You are a single mom who has moved away from your ex-fiance with your blind son Henry. When your neighbor and Henry form a connection, you find safety in Matt as well.

high infidelity ⏾♪ - matt murdock x reader: Elektra’s return threatens everything between you and Matt.

but daddy i love him ☁︎♪ - logan howlett x reader: Logan is hired as a bodyguard for you, a mafia boss's daughter. Except, you are nothing like the other mafia princesses he's looked after.

dangerous woman ☁︎♪ - logan howlett x reader: You're a former assassin now working as a mercenary alongside your friend Wade and occasionally Logan. After a solo mission goes wrong, you discover that someone is not only trying to ruin your reputation but also out to kill you. i promise i'm working on it! this is like the worst writer's block i've had - with this series in particular

couldn't make it any harder ⏾♪ - logan howlett x reader: You and Logan agree to be friends with benefits. The most important rule? Don't fall in love. Except Logan has never been too good at following rules.

so high school ⏾♪ - logan howlett x reader: When Logan, the star footballer player, needs help with math in order to not be kicked off the team, he turns to you, the shy, quiet 'forgotten' one.

look up at the stars ⏾✶۶ৎ♪ - logan howlett x reader: Logan isn't one for crushes, but somehow he ended up here, having a crush on you, the most oblivious person there is.

crystal clear ⏾♪ - anthony bridgerton x reader: You came to London to visit your dying grandfather from America. Him and your father wanted you here for one reason: to marry.

8 logan howlett requests ⏾✶۶ৎ♪ - untitled

2 peter parker (mcu) requests ⏾✶۶ৎ♪ - untitled

important note: just because there are works in progress, does not mean that they will actually be finished/uploaded. this is more for me to know what i have in the works and for you to have an idea as well.

[teddy06writes]

Overworked

Steve Rogers x gn!reader

Trigger Warnings: swearing, yelling/crying, reader has a bit of a break down, reader is a grad student studying something in the humanities, because I am studying something in the humanities, implied Avengers' Tower Era because I'm still at the restaurant

Summary: Grad school has been wearing you down, bit by bit. Luckily, when it finally seems to push you over the edge, Steve is there to catch you.

{it should be noted that I'm in undergrad right now, not grad school so everything your reading could be wholly misrepresented}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you didn't really even want to look at your grades, or even your never ending list of upcoming assignments. In fact, if you were being honest with yourself, you would be perfectly happy never doing another assignment, and simply withdrawing from classes all together.

When you had decided to take on graduate school, you thought that you'd be able to breeze through, and get one step closer to securing the job you had always wanted. Now, sitting and your desk, drowning in assignments and library books, that idea couldn't feel farther from the truth.

The weeks leading up to midterms were probably the worst throughout the whole year, with professors cracking down on already harsh grading standards, and piling even more assignments onto your already crowded work load. You had just turned in your final midterm paper, and yet you couldn't find a single splinter of relief in that fact.

The pressure of submitting your thesis proposal, not to mention Tony's constant badgering about getting you to sit in on meetings in the Tower, were weighing down on you. So when your laptop screen lit up with notifications showing that one of your professors had begun viewing and commenting on one of your papers, you just couldn't take it.

Shoving away from your desk, you started out of your office, forcing deep breaths in and out of your lungs. Out in the living room, you could see Steve lounging on the couch, Sam's copy of The Two Towers open in his lap.

You only had to plop down beside him on the couch for him to read the expression painted on your face, closing the book and sitting up, "What is it? What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I just-" You inhaled sharply, trying to speak around the lump in your throat, "I can't do this. I can't do grad school. I don't know who I was kidding."

Steve frowned, "What do you mean? I thought you said everything was going well?"

"It is- or at least it was- but midterms kicked my ass and now I'm behind on my thesis proposal- and I still don't have my research outlined- and I just- I can't do it. I don't know why I thought I could do it."

When you finally stopped gesturing, he gently took hold of your hands, "Hey, listen to me. You can handle this. I know you can, so why do you think you can't?"

You pulled away from him suddenly, standing and desperately trying to put words to the feelings tearing you up inside, "Because- because what if it's not good enough? What if my best just doesn't cut it and my thesis gets rejected? What if I'll have put in all this time and this money only to realize that I could never do it? That I was never cut out for it? I can't have let all of this be for nothing-"

You cut yourself off with a broken sob, and in an instant, the super soldier was on his feet, drawing you carefully into his arms. You buried your face into his chest as one of his hands worked its way into your hair, carding through it gently.

"It's not going to be for nothing, sweetheart. No matter what happens, it'll be okay. You're gonna be okay."

You sniffed, hand fisting at the fabric of his t-shirt when he moved to pull away, "Can we just stay like this, for a minute?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

~~~

Enjoy this fic? Support me on kofi :)

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - Week 2 - Outsider POV

Hi, friends! This week our theme is Outsider POV. It’s a favorite way of mine to read about our boys because we see things that they maybe don’t see, and it’s full of confusion and miscommunications, and it’s just--a lot of fun. So here are some of my favorite. What is your favorite Outside POV fic? 

~ 

OUTSIDER POV 

Fair Shot by isozyme

Captain Rogers leaps from the helicopter like a gymnast on the dismount. All the lines of his body are controlled. Perfect. The iconic round shield lies flat across his back.

“How does he fit a parachute under that?” I ask.

“He doesn’t,” Stark answers. “Marvelous adrenaline junkie, our Cap. Likes to almost break his ankles every time. Makes him feel like a man.”

Front Line reporter Ben Urich spends a mission embedded with Tony Stark and Captain Steve Rogers on an Ultimates mission.

(lack of) dignity by Areiton 

It’s just--it’s a thing. 

The other Avengers shout at them for it, but it’s humiliating, to be beaten into submission while Cap tries to get a date. 

maybe they are by Areiton 

“Maybe they fucked and Stark broke his heart,” Teddy says, watching Stark standing next to a table full of grad students, talking animatedly, waving his coffee as Rogers dodged by, giving him a dirty look.

Or

That professors fic I've been promising to write.

on the inherent homoeroticism of cake decoration by welcoming_disaster 

“She’s matchmaking, Barton,” Carol sighed.

“We,” Thor corrected, thumping himself hard in the chest, “art matchmaking.”

“Who, Cap n’ Tony?” Clint asked, his mouth full.

“Cap and Tony,” Janet confirmed, cutting herself a thin slice of egg and gently depositing it on her whole grain avocado toast, “it’s getting ridiculous.”

“Wait, I thought they were—“ Clint frowned, glancing around the room as though to confirm. Nothing but confused faces met his questioning gaze. “Huh. I really thought they were fucking.”

“And there is the crux of the issue,” Jess licked a bit of spaghetti sauce off her lip.

“Aye,” agreed Thor, “there’s rub.”

-----------

The team tries to set up Steve and Tony. Things don't go as planned.

to the point of invention by meidui

Tony Stark does an interview, his first public media appearance in two years, and the interviewer wants to know where he gets his inspiration from these days.

He smiles a little, not at the camera and barely even at the interviewer, and then says, "I've got this friend. He's pretty accident-prone. I guess that's my inspiration."

No Slip of the Tongue by deervsheadlights

Many a thing was said of Lord Anthony Stark, Ruler of the Far Lands of Mar'vill, and many did not hold true. Fewer things were said of the Lord's Captain of Guard, but as it was, Sir Steven Rogers had never been a man for wearing his heart on his sleeve.

(Or: Five times somebody else told a tale of the Lord and his knight, and one time they told their own.)

5 Times Bucky Thought Tony Was Good For Steve +1 Time He Told Him by Anonymous

To say Bucky is unimpressed by Stark would be an understatement.

It isn’t that he dislikes him. It’s more that he’s a brand of indifferent that curdles with disdain on the rare occasion that Bucky catches him on the TV: Stark is glib and crass in a way his father never was, and he wears suits like he’d slipped out of the womb clad in Armani.

So it’s a surprise when Bucky moves into the Tower and finds that Steve actually gets along with the guy.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Fic title game

PLEASE for bdsm's reputation, rewrite 50 shades of grey 💀

related to this ask game, "send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it"

Ha! Oh my god, that would be hilarious if I could collectively wipe the public memory of that and replace it with stucky 💀💀

Except, while I, of course, can see just stucky-ifying that plot, I also, based on the title alone, removing the original context, would love to write another age-gap-exploration fix to go with it. Something with silver fox photography Professor James Barnes--just his close friends call him Bucky, not his colleagues--ends up bumping into younger artist Steve. They have immediate chemistry, sparks flying when their hands just hardly graze, nevermind when their eyes meet and they can't help but devour each other, head to toe. Bucky asserts, immediately, that Steve is too young for him. He can't, won't pursue, this potential, no matter how tempting it is.

And, Steve, being Steve, with his moral compass, accepts it, slinking off to lick his wounds. Yet. They just keep running into each other. Again and again. They've both lived in NYC for years and never seen each other before, but now they can't stop finding each other. Steve doesn't even go to the school Bucky teaches at! Still, everywhere. They see each other too much. 50 times, at least. Parties where they have friends that overlap but shouldn't; coffee shops and cafés; galleries where Professor Barnes has connections for his own work and his students' work but where Steve is worming his way in on his own; even when Bucky travels for a conference to San Francisco and finds Steve just on the fucking street there, why?, because he's on vacation. It's impossible. The universe works in mysterious ways to... apparently torture them.

Bucky can't see a single way this will work out. He's got his life, his artistic work, his job, and his students. He is ambitious, he decided a while ago, after a bad relationship, that maybe this love thing isn't for him; especially not love with someone the same age as his grad students. No. His thinking is black and white (like the photos he takes 😘). Steve's perspective is, perhaps, a little naive, yes, but just more flexible. He sees the shades (ha) of grey between the black and white. Why not try? What's the harm there? How many times do they have to brush past each other, imagining all the connections they could have just to sever everyone, before they just fucking do it?

[omgtheywereawooomates]

a teen wolf mcu fic insp:

it wasn't like in the fairy tales. not really.

stiles was a busy grad student attending columbia university on a scholarship, juggling a packed academic calendar, as well as a part time job at a cafe in brooklyn.

steve was a tired, unofficially retired hero who was still adjusting to civilian life, and who'd just barely unpacked his new apartment, let alone his emotional baggage.

but it wasn't like in the fairy tales... because their finding one another didn't fix anything. stiles was still busy and steve was still emotionally exhausted.

their falling in love wasn't some magic cure all. but what it was...was a home. a safe place all their own, with that special person that made their hearts whisper "...it was you, all along."

[thursdayisbetterthanfriday]

Black Mirror - Plaything & Creatures

AKA - The real kind of AI I want to see in videogames

Season 7 of Black Mirror has come out and, surprisingly, I've found a very personal reference in one of the episodes "Plaything" with Peter Capaldi. The game central to the plot really gives me flashbacks to a truly remarkable game I played as a quirky, lonely, kid.

This gives me an excuse to write a whole essay on one of my favourite games which only 5 people will read. It's still worth it. If you watched this episode, and want to learn a small portion of 1990s gaming history knowledge, read on!

In the episode, an introverted game reviewer in the 90s gets tasked with reviewing a game by a genius designer, with a troubled pasts, which attempts to replicate virtual life. A new kind of game, which isn't about conflict or "winning", but which focusses on caring and nurturing virtual life.

The instant this was brought up by Collin, the game designer, I knew this would be my favourite episode of the season. As a video game player I did enjoy shooter games to some extent, but I always much preferred creative, or strategy, games such as Theme Hospital, Black & White, Pharoah and others. But this game instantly reminded me of one of my all time favourite games.

Thronglets, the in-episode game, is likely heavily inspired by the 90s obsession with artificial life and games such as the creatures series created by eccentric, and brilliant, computer scientist Steve Grand.

How remarkable is this game? Isn't it just some basic Tamagotchi style game?

Oh boy would you be wrong! Let's dig in to one of my major hyperfixations from age 7 onwards.

Steve Grand - What Doth Life?

Tamagotchi's were a popular craze in the 90s, but creatures is on a whole different level. Tamagotchis, being a kind of virtual life, relied on you interacting with them using various buttons to simulate giving food, playing or petting them etc. Fun for some (except when you left on holiday for a week and they all DIED) but limited.

Creatures, however, is a very different beast.

The AI models you see today? Computer scientist and AI researcher Steve Grand created very basic versions of neural networks in order to simulate intelligence and learning for his creatures! Unlike modern AI grad students, who have the benefit of standardised hardware and software libraries, Steve instead created this system which worked on Windows 95 computers. Quite the achievement.

It's more remarkable when you realise you could have 10's of creatures in the same world interacting at the same time on this era of hardware.

These simulated life forms were called Norns. They could actually learn, in a rudimentary way, using input from their environment and input from the person running the game. Players weren't entirely passive, as you could pet or slap the norms to reward/punish them for actions as well as interact with objects within the 2D game world.

There is an excellent video explainer for this system which can be found here:

Not only did Steve Grand do this, he simulated entire biochemical systems for the creatures as well. Not only did it simulate things such as hormones, ATP and insulin but also a number of illnesses and toxins.

Creatures could get illnesses, which you would need to treat. Spend too long in the swamp area? You might get heavy metal poisoning or some horrible bacterial infection.

It would also affect their drives. Too little glucose, and a creature ran the risk of dying. A nice slice of cheese, or some berries, helps to boost energy and keep your norns happy and healthy.

Not only were neural networks, and simulated biochemistry, involved but you could also breed and raise new norns. The genetics system in the game would also influence various inherited biochemical behaviours, but also some of the neural structure as well!

There are STILL communities who breed norns to this day. There is a genre of online game which does use this kind of mechanic, which does remain popular to this day so at least part of Creatures survives on in this form.

Did I also mention that you could SPEAK to them? I still boot up this game on occasion and interact with some of my favourite norns. Obviously, given the hardware and software of the day, the speech is limited to a small vocabulary, but for a 1990's game this was truly incredible.

The Dangers of Too "Realistic" Simulation

Obviously, Black Mirror is a show, in part, telling stories around the dangers of technology. I did like the episode itself, considering the implications of having a significantly more advance simulated life AI observing (and viscerally experiencing) the worst of human behaviour, and what that might motivate it to do and there is ambiguity to what that might indeed be at the end of the episode.

I do think it's important to also discuss how people interact with AI systems in times when social isolation is increasing. The main character in Plaything is drawn to the in-game Thronglets because they offer him a safe non-judgemental social space which he has never experienced before in his life. There are plenty of examples of current AI chatbots who people do interact with in lieu of actual people, perhaps for similar reasons. The cost of living driving up costs, and increasing indirect hostility of business and governments to "third spaces" like parks, bars, libraries and other spaces, also doesn't help the young of today to socialise in person like they did in the past.

It is quite dangerous, then, to have people perhaps too emotionally dependent on software systems which, bluntly, are controlled and owned by large corporations and which can be trained, or altered, with certain viewpoints in mind.

“What I had not realized is that extremely short exposures to a relatively simple computer program could induce powerful delusional thinking in quite normal people.” ― Joseph Weizenbaum on ELIZA, the first chat-bot

Will we live to see such times again?

I miss the creatures games, and the fusion of scientific and creative energy that made it possible in the 1990s gaming environment. Can this kind of thing happen again?

Frankly, Creatures was very much a fluke of a game, created by an AI researcher to show the possibilities of technology to emulate life. I love it to bits, but it's highly unlikely anyone will create anything like it again given current profit motives and linear-mindedness of game design which railroads design into fairly discrete categories. Not necessarily a bad thing, per say, but something that limits the imagination.

The closest I've gotten to seeing similar complexity is with Trico in The Last Guardian, but Trico pales in comparison to the complexity of Steve Grand's creations. Team ICO's intentions to build a relationship with a simulated creature, however, were well served by their approach and the lack of complexity makes it no less impressive. I do wonder, however, what simulated life games could achieve with today's AI systems and technologies. My scratched up Creatures 2 CD ran on Windows 95 computers back in the 1990s. Imagine a similar game released today, taking advantage of all the advancements in software design and research we've had since then and what that could be like....

I can only dream of electric sheep...

[midsummer-semantics]

This Could All Be Yours

What?? Another Steddie Kinktober addition? Of course. (Once again cross-posted on ao3!)

Rating: Explicit (Obviously)

Note: Say "Hello Robin!"

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Professor Steve Harrington, Grad Student Eddie Munson, except now he's DONE!, Dom Steve Harrington, Sub Eddie Munson, Age Difference, just to clarify it's only about 10 years, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, finally and literally, Dry Humping, Daddy Kink, Possessive Steve Harrington, Impact Play, Spanking, Rimming, a touch of Manhandling, Breeding Kink, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Unsafe Sex, Creampie, Coming Untouched, I decided they're switches but Eddie just bottoms on impulse, Aftercare, Almost snuck a love confession in there, Porn with Feelings, because of course I did, Kinktober

Summary:

Dear Mr. Munson,

Your thesis “From Shakespeare to Spiritbox: An analysis of Early Modern references in Metal Music” has been accepted with minor edits—

The rest of the email is gibberish. He passed (with minor edits, but who cares). He’s done. He has his marks.

His phone is in his hand and he’s dialing Steve’s number before he can think twice about it.

Or: THEY FINALLY KISS (and other things)

[divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Keep reading below for the fic! ⤵️

This Could All Be Yours 

Dear Mr. Munson, Your thesis “From Shakespeare to Spiritbox: An analysis of Early Modern references in Metal Music” has been accepted with minor edits —

The rest of the email is gibberish. He passed (with minor edits, but who cares). He’s done. He has his marks.

His phone is in his hand and he’s dialing Steve’s number before he can think twice about it.

“Hello, sweethea—”

“I passed!”

Steve chuckles on the other line. “Did you? I had no idea.”

Eddie can hear the sarcasm in his voice, knowing part of the email he received has the revision comments that are at least half Steve’s, but it does nothing to distract from the elation he currently feels. 

He passed. 

He’s not stuck at the university another year.

He and Steve can be together. Finally.

“Stevie,” Eddie whines, hoping the singular word is enough to convey everything his mind is rolling through: the longing, the desire, the need.

“Yes, my darling?” Steve asks, setting Eddie’s body aflame.

“I— uh…” Eddie stutters. He has the ability to be with Steve now, knows down to his bone marrow that this is right, but he’s suddenly unsure how to ask for the inevitable.

Steve breathes an amused sound into the phone, muttering something out of ear shot before speaking to Eddie again. “I’m very proud of you, baby. Can I show you how much?”

Eddie nods vigorously, keys already in-hand while Steve rattles off his address.

The drive over is a blur of horny desire and Eddie’s not sure how he makes it safely, but it comes to a grinding halt when the person who answers the door isn’t Steve.

“Oh Dingus,” calls the woman with a stylish bob, one hand on her hip, not even asking who Eddie is while giving him a judgmental once-over. “Your boyfriend is here.” 

“Jesus Christ, Rob, can you not?” comes Steve’s voice from somewhere behind her before the beautiful man is hip-checking her out of the way. His caramel eyes soften considerably when they land on Eddie, and the turmoil in the younger man’s stomach slows a little. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. My sister—” Steve spares a glance at the woman, eyes narrowed in challenge before turning back to Eddie, “—likes to give me shit. Ignore her.”

“Fat chance of that,” Rob (?) scoffs, turning back to Eddie. “Congrats on passing your thesis. Don’t fuck it up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eddie mutters automatically. 

Rob’s face screws up in disgust. “Ugh. Don’t. Robin’s fine.” She turns quickly back to Steve. “I expect to meet him properly for brunch soon. Stop being a fucking idiot.”

Eddie isn’t sure he’s ever seen Steve look properly chastised before, but the older man’s shoulders are near his ears while he nods in agreement. “Yeah, of course. See you soon.”

Robin gives a perfunctory nod to Steve and then Eddie before shoving past the younger man, leaving Eddie standing in Steve’s doorway with a wave of confusion barreling through him.

Eddie continues to stand in the doorway, watching the woman’s retreating back for a moment before turning to Steve. “I don’t think she likes me.”

Steve gives him an apologetic smile as he waved the younger man inside. “She doesn’t not like you. She just doesn’t know you. And to be fair, up until this morning you were a student of mine.”

That thought shouldn’t make Eddie hot under the collar, but alas, he’s never quite had his head screwed on right.

“Sure, no I get that,” Eddie agrees, following the older man further into the house, trailing after him like a lost puppy, more like. “Should I be worried that she does want to get to know me?”

Steve stops as he reaches the fridge, giving Eddie a more sincere smile. “Probably. But just take it as a compliment for now. It means she knows how important you are to me. Something to drink?”

Eddie pulls a lock of hair across his face on instinct, trying to hide the blush at Steve’s admission that he cares about him. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with him? How old is he? 

It’s only then that he remembers Robin referred to Eddie as Steve’s boyfriend, and he blushes harder.

“Eddie?” Steve prompts, reaching out to gently unlatch his hair from his grip, pushing is behind his ear instead. “We’re celebrating right? Drink?”

Eddie feels like he’s swallowed his tongue, the casual touch sending sparks through his system. He wants more. Wants Steve to wrap the hand currently still grazing his cheek around the back of his neck and manhandle him. Wants to finally get his own hands on Steve now that the looming presence of his graduation status isn’t hanging over them like a dark cloud.

“Sure,” he croaks, words and vocalization hard with Steve still touching him. He’s not sure if finally feeling Steve is better or worse for his sanity.

Steve’s lips curve into a small smirk and Eddie bites back a yelp when Steve pinches his cheek like a wiley toddler before letting his hand fall away.

“Pick your poison. I’ve got bourbon, scotch, gin, rum. Or if you’re not into something heavy there’s beer, wine, apple juice, and water.”

“Are you running a bar in here?” Eddie jokes, breathing a little easier without Steve in his immediate orbit.

Steve chuckles, his cheeks pinkening slightly. “Robin and I met when we were bartending at the same shitty dive in college. Old habits die hard.” Eddie watches the man pull down two rocks glasses from a cabinet and drops a large ice cube into both before moving over to a bar cart he hadn’t noticed before — though, to be fair, he’s barely taken his eyes off of the older man since arriving.

“Wait—” he starts, seeing Steve grab a bottle of what looks like very expensive bourbon and pouring two fingers into each glass. “I thought she was your sister.”

Steve nods as he sticks the cork back in the bottle and sets it back in its place. “Oh, she is. In every way that matters except legally. Sometimes I forget we’re not twins, if I’m honest.”

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, accepting the proffered drink with a small thank you. Steve clinks his glass against the edge of Eddie’s before they both take a sip. “I have a friend like that.”

“Chrissy, right?” Steve asks, leading them into the living room. There’s a wing-back chair that he sits in, motioning a hand to the couch next to it for Eddie. It feels a lot like a mirror of their time in Steve’s office, and the horny thoughts that sprout from that almost make him miss the fact that Steve mentioned Chrissy by name.

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a fond smile, swirling the liquid in his glass. Briefly, he thinks about the fact he can tell her about Steve now. They no longer have to hide what’s going on between them. But that thought is quickly overshadowed by another. “I just realized that you know so much about me and I know next to nothing about you.”

Steve smiles, his honey brown eyes sparkling in the lamp light. “Well, we’ll just have to fix that. But maybe not tonight.”

The older man’s voice dropped an octave on the last sentence, making Eddie’s insides burn in a way that can’t be attributed to the alcohol. 

“Oh?” he breathes, really hoping Steve isn’t just going to toy with him again. “What, uh… what did you have in mind instead?”

Steve sets his rocks glass aside, the liquid barely touched, and waves a hand to beckon Eddie over. Eddie sets his aside as well before he stands, walking the few feet to stand, once again, between Steve’s spread legs. It’s another mirror of the last time he saw Steve, before the professor ordered him out of his clothes and made him ride that dildo in his office chair, only this time, Steve doesn’t hesitate to reach out and place his hands on Eddie’s hips, drawing him closer.

“God,” Steve breathes, his hands running up and down Eddie’s sides. “I’ve been wanting to touch you for ages and now I finally can. I don’t know where to start.”

“Professor—” Eddie mutters nonsensically, but stops when Steve’s hands squeeze his hips, his long fingers brushing against his ass.

“I’m not your professor anymore, baby boy. Wanna try something else?”

Eddie’s breath hitches and he sways a little into the simple contact, bringing his own hands up to rest on Steve’s broad shoulders.

He runs through a mental list of monikers: they’ve done sir, always a personal favorite, but not big enough to encapsulate the way Eddie wants to please Steve now that he can finally do it like this. Master is too formal and frankly reminds him of D&D, which would be hot in any other setting, but not for this, and that’s not how he wants this relationship to be defined. Steve always calls him baby boy, though, which he knows is mostly because Eddie’s younger than him, and while age play is a hard no for him, he’s not opposed to the Daddy Dom dynamic in the right setting.

“Daddy?” he whispers, unsure how it’ll be received until Steve’s face lights up.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, looking like a kid on Christmas for a moment before visibly schooling himself. Eddie would laugh if he wasn’t still nervous. Steve is still smiling softly when he starts running his hands over Eddie’s sides again, this time roaming back over his ass and squeezing for a moment. “We can do that, sweetheart. I’d love to be your Daddy if that’s what you want.”

Eddie bites his lip to stop the smile — and does a terrible job because it breaks free anyway — and nods. “Yes, please. I trust you. I respect you. I want this with you.”

Steve lets his face light up again, and Eddie barely gets a squeak out before he’s hauled into Steve’s lap and the older man’s lips are on his. It’s a little awkward and includes a lot of shuffling, some grunts that aren’t tied to the kissing itself, and limbs in places they’re not meant to fit in order to get two grown men into the chair Steve’s sitting in, but once Eddie is securely straddling Steve’s lap, their mouths pressed together and their hands pulling at hair and clothing, Eddie lets himself sink into the knowledge that he can finally, finally have this.

Steve’s mouth is as sure as his words always are, taking control as he moves his tongue against Eddie’s, but yielding enough to let the younger man take as much as he wants as well. It’s a delicate balance, as all things have been with them, except now Eddie knows what Steve tastes like, knows that the low groans and hitches in breath are from Eddie’s physical weight and presence instead of the furious masturbation and images of what he couldn’t touch before.

“Steve—” Eddie groans, rolling his hips in the man’s lap, feeling the hardness under his slacks that matches the one in Eddie’s jeans. “Daddy,” he tries again.

“Fuck, say it again,” Steve begs, readjusting his hands so one is buried in Eddie’s hair and the other is palming his ass, guiding his hips to rut against him harder.

“Daddy, please.”

Steve grunts like he’s been punched in the chest, tearing his mouth away from Eddie’s to trail down his throat, sucking and biting bruises into the skin.

“I’m going to fucking own you. You’re mine. All mine,” Steve mutters, rolling his hips up to meet Eddie’s, like he can fuck him through the layers they’re still unfortunately wearing. The way Eddie feels like his cock is going to rip through his jeans, he sort of wishes it were possible.

“Yours,” he mewls, clawing at Steve’s shoulders, needing the fabric to disappear. “All yours. And all mine.”

Steve growls and pulls himself away from the no-doubt deep bruise he’s worked into Eddie’s neck before crashing their lips back together again.

“I need you naked. Now,” Steve huffs, smacking Eddie’s ass over his jeans, earning a wanton moan that Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever made before in his life. It also doesn’t go unnoticed. “Oh? You like that, baby boy?”

Eddie nods, wiggling in Steve’s lap instead of getting up, silently begging for more. “Yes, daddy.”

Steve rewards him with another swift swat before helping the younger man to his feet. “Strip and bend over the couch. There’s definitely more where that came from.”

Eddie makes quick work of his clothes, folding them neatly like he had in Steve’s office, before resting his knees on the seat of the couch, elbows braced on the back. It’s not that Steve’s never seen him in a similar position before, but he’s shaking with barely restrained energy knowing that his daddy (!!) is actually going to touch him this time. 

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds after Eddie presents himself before Steve’s hands are on him, smoothing over the globes of his ass and squeezing his thighs and hips, small hums of appreciation rolling through him.

“Holy fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Steve rasps, leaning over Eddie’s back to press open-mouthed kisses along his spine. He snuffles Eddie’s hair away from his neck, not taking his hands off where he’s kneading the softer parts of Eddie’s hips and ass, and pulling him flush against his groin as he bites down on the nape of Eddie’s neck.

Apparently he’d been so focused on his own presentation that he missed Steve undressing, because the heat of the older man’s bare chest is like fire against Eddie’s back, and only the soft cotton of Steve’s briefs are a barrier between the hard line of his cock and Eddie’s aching center.

“Daddy,” Eddie whines, using his grip on the couch back to press back against Steve. “Need you.”

Steve shushes him gently, running his hands from Eddie’s hips up his stomach and chest, bringing him more flush against Steve’s front. “I got you, baby boy. I promised I’d take care of you and I will.”

Eddie whines again, for more, to see Steve’s face while they do this, for the heavens to open and take him, he doesn’t care. Not as long as Steve keeps touching him.

His breath hitches as he gets his wish, one of Steve’s hands keeping a tight grip on Eddie’s shoulder while the other runs back down his flank and around to palm his ass again. “You want it, baby? Want me to mark you up? Make it hard to sit without the memory of my hands on you?” Steve murmurs, his breath hot in Eddie’s ear.

“Yes, daddy,” Eddie squirms, rolling his hips into the feeling of Steve’s wide palm, seeking something, anything.

Steve lets loose a dark chuckle, one that skitters up Eddie’s spine like a rat in a crawl space, before massaging his cheek harshly once more and drawing back. The strike is strong and true, stinging in a way that smarts and will leave an incriminating hand print, and Eddie wails at the sensation. Steve palms the area, a little mean and a little rough, and Eddie presses back against it, silently begging for more.

Steve does it again, a little to the left of the first one, spreading it out to get even more of him red and aching in the best way. His cock swings between his legs, hot and heavy, pre-come gathering at the tip as Steve smacks his ass and thighs a couple more times before sliding his hands over Eddie’s body to switch sides. Each time Eddie moans and begs for more, harder, just like that, and each time Steve rewards him with the right amount of pain-pleasure that has him seeing stars.

“Daddy,” Eddie whines, voice high pitched and a little broken.

“What is it, sweet thing?” Steve murmurs, rubbing his palm against the latest sweltering sting. “What do you need?”

Eddie moans at the overwhelming feeling of Steve surrounding him. He hasn’t even touched his dick and Eddie’s still so close to coming it’s kind of embarrassing.

“Fuck me,” he wheezes. “Please, daddy. I need you to fuck me.”

“Mmm, fuck, yeah absolutely,” Steve groans, pulling away slightly. “But first, I made a promise.”

Eddie lifts his head from where he’d rested it against his crossed arms, barely getting the chance to try and look over his shoulder before Steve is on his knees, his hands prying Eddie’s cheeks apart, and Steve’s tongue laving over his hole.

“AH! Steve!” Eddie cries, his body jolting with surprise and pleasure even as he shoves his hips back against Steve’s eager tongue.

The sounds are obscene as Steve eats him out, Eddie’s body trembling as he tries to keep upright through the onslaught, and every time Steve moans against him like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, the vibrations running through Eddie’s body like an electrical current, Eddie could swear he glows like a Christmas tree.

But then — holy shit — Steve gets a hand on Eddie’s dick, and from two points of contact Steve is consuming him.

And Eddie’s only human — though the absolute God eating his ass and jerking him off is definitely a demon — so he barely gets a choked off warning past his lips before he’s shooting off across Steve’s couch.

And Steve — Steve! Daddy! — is moaning the entire time like he’s the one who experienced a mind-blowing orgasm at the hands of the devil himself. 

“Sir, please,” Eddie whimpers, trying to draw away from Steve’s eagerness for a brief moment.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s right ass cheek, earning a hiss when he remembers how sore and red he must be. “You just taste so good and I’ve been imagining eating your ass since day one.”

Eddie grumbles unintelligibly and sags a bit on the cushions, wrung out already even though Steve hasn’t actually fucked him yet.

“Are you okay if I leave you here for a second? Gonna grab some water,” Steve asks, once again, ever-knowing.

“Touch me again right now and I’ll explode,” Eddie warns half-heartedly.

“Didn’t you already?” Steve snarks, lightly tapping Eddie’s right cheek over a particularly sore spot, chuckling lightly when Eddie squeals before releasing him to grab a drink.

Eddie takes a moment to survey his body. Yes, his ass stings, and his knees kind of ache from the position, but he’s never felt so relaxed and pliant, even after Steve’s wrung him dry multiple times. Maybe it’s the result of Steve finally touching him, or maybe Eddie’s just so down bad that his body is easily manipulated by the older man’s efforts, but either way the thought of Steve not being done with him is almost enough to make him hard again.

“You can turn around,” Steve prompts as he comes back, and Eddie tries not to wince as he turns to take a seat on the scratchy material of the couch, accepting the proffered glass of water. Eddie takes it gratefully, leaning heavily against Steve’s side when the other man plants himself on the couch next to Eddie instead of back in his chair.

They’re quiet for several minutes, letting the afterglow wash over them, before Eddie’s brain finally returns to full function.

“Wait a minute, I asked you to fuck me.”

Steve cackles at that, head thrown back and strong neck on display. “Pretty sure I did,” he says through chuckles when he finally gains some level of composure. “I’m leaning back against the evidence of it right now.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn when Steve wriggles, knowing without a doubt that he’s rubbing the come Eddie released into his back and the couch cushion, but that’s also not what he meant.

He huffs in annoyance, setting the now empty water glass next to his abandoned bourbon and turns so he’s facing Steve. 

“Daddy,” he whines, bringing a hand up to Steve’s glorious chest before running it down the planes of his body until it settles over the rigid length tenting his briefs. Steve groans at the friction, clearly trying to stop his hips from raising and seeking out more, and Eddie feels on top of the world having this kind of power of Steve.

Really, Eddie knows he’s been in charge the whole time. Steve doesn’t make a single move without Eddie’s approval, and that’s why he trusts the older man so implicitly. But god, if he doesn’t get Steve’s dick inside him soon—

“Alright, baby, alright,” Steve mutters, yanking Eddie’s hand away, bringing it up to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of it. “But I’m not fucking you on the couch.”

In the space of a few seconds, Steve has Eddie in his arms bridal-style and walks them back to his bedroom. It shouldn’t be hot — if anything, he should be concerned about the older man’s back giving out considering they’re the same height — but Eddie’s brain has been replaced with a horny cymbal-playing monkey so sue him for the moan he lets out when Steve lays him on his bed with nary a grunt in effort.

He stands back, hands on his hips, like he’s surveying the land, and Eddie fights both the desire to cover himself and the wave of dizziness that washes over him as his dick tries to harden again too quickly.

“I thought I wanted to see you bent over my desk, but seeing you in my bed is worlds better,” Steve mutters, almost like he’s only talking to himself. Eddie squirms as the desire for the older man grows once more, fisting the sheets to stop from fisting his cock.

“Daddy, please,” he begs, though, not wanting it to be over , necessarily, but definitely needing Steve’s hands back on him sooner rather than later.

Steve takes another moment to rove his gaze over Eddie before hooking his thumbs in his briefs and shoving them down his legs. His cock sprints free, beet red and dripping at the tip. Eddie doesn’t know where to look, at the man’s face, his groin, the chest hair and wild sex-flush adorning it. He doesn’t even get a chance to take it in for very long before Steve is crawling over him, shoving Eddie back against the duvet and diving back in to kiss him.

This time, without all the clothes in the way, Eddie gets a real feel for the way they fit together, the way Steve’s body — a little soft and yielding in places from age, but still hot and hard and strong — finds a home between Eddie’s spread legs, their dicks lined up and pressing unyieldingly against each other.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve moans, rolling his hips down into Eddie’s a pulling a punched out sound with the tip of Steve’s cock catches just below the crown of Eddie’s. 

“Need you,” Eddie begs against Steve’s lips, his hands flying off from the bed to grip and pull at Steve’s sides, his hips, his perfect ass to try to coax the older man closer.

“I know what you need, baby boy,” Steve coos, kissing back down Eddie’s throat again and biting at his clavicle, his chest, the one nipple ring he has because he was too chicken-shit to get the second one done after the first hurt too much. Steve tugs on the little bar on just the right side of too harsh, laving his tongue over it to soothe the sting when Eddie arches into it. He pays equal attention to the other side, toying with Eddie until he’s whining and shaking, his cock leaving a trail of pre on his belly and seemingly never stopping.

“Please,” he begs again, and Steve relents only long enough to reach over Eddie for the lube in his bedside table. He sits back on his heels, once again devouring Eddie with his eyes, tossing the bottle up and catching it a few times. 

“I want you to ride me, sweetheart. Think you can do that?”

Eddie nods a little dumbly, muttering a quiet uh huh , before reaching for the lube bottle. Steve snatches it away.

“Absolutely not. I’ve spent the last eight months watching you finger yourself open from a distance. It’s my turn.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, glancing down at Steve’s hand like it holds the gift of life itself. Honestly, it just might.

He follows Steve’s lead, as he has the entire time, letting the older man rearrange them so Eddie’s straddling Steve’s chest, a little high up, but only so Steve doesn’t have to work at too awkward and angle as he lubes up his fingers and starts playing with Eddie’s still slightly relaxed hole.

“Next time, we’ll switch,” Steve says, eying the space between Eddie’s legs where his arm disappears, like he can see past the twitching weight of Eddie’s cock to where his fingers are gently working him open on one finger.

Eddie makes an inquisitive sound that mostly is just a moan as Steve curls that single finger inside him, a second one already massaging the tight furl of muscle, waiting for the right moment to enter.

“Oh, honey. You didn’t think I would want this,” Steve coos, bringing his other hand around to stroke Eddie’s cock torturously slowly, “inside me at some point, did you? This big, beautiful cock inside me, trying to fuck me so good.”

“Steve, don’t—” Eddie warns, already so on edge once more and Steve doesn’t even have a second finger in him yet.

The older man chuckles darkly, using the hand on Eddie’s cock to form a tight ring at the base as he works a second finger in. Eddie’s brain is still fuzzy, getting worse with every drawn out moment as Steve works him open on his fingers, the words coming out of Steve’s mouth a white noise through the haze. 

He knows he’s making all kinds of noises too, but he doesn’t have it in himself to be embarrassed, already knows he’s made all kinds of noises during their private lessons that would be mortifying in any other context, and he couldn’t even let them loose then the way he does now. Now, he doesn’t have to bite them back for fear they’re going to get caught. Now, Eddie can beg and plead and cry out as loud as he wants when Steve intentionally abuses his prostate with the pads of his fingers, and Steve just encourages him to be louder.

“That’s it, baby boy. Ride my fingers. Make yourself feel good.”

Eddie plants his hands on Steve’s shoulders and does what he’s told, so close, so so close —

“Daddyyyy,” he drags out, because he’s right there and he needs Steve inside him NOW!

Steve releases Eddie’s cock to grab his hip, stilling him before gently pulling his fingers free. Then he hands Eddie the lube. “Slick me up, baby. Make sure we’re both nice and wet for you to take me.”

Eddie’s movements are jerky and uncoordinated, and he knows he uses way too much but it doesn’t matter, because in the space of a few seconds he’s got Steve’s cock notched at his empty hole and is sinking down finally, finally.

“Fuck, Eddie, ” Steve groans, head thrown back as Eddie works himself down, taking Steve faster than he probably should but can’t seem to stop.

Only once Eddie’s settled in Steve’s lap, skin feeling like it’s on fire and like he’s going to die right here, does Steve gasp and seem to come back to himself.

“Shit, condom—”

Eddie’s already shaking his head, rolling his hips to adjust faster. “Don’t care. Breed me, daddy. Make me yours.”

“Fuuuuck, baby boy, god I can’t believe how perfect you are,” Steve praises, running his hands up Eddie’s sides and chest, plucking his nipples again. “So perfect for me. Gonna fuck you, baby. Gonna breed his tight hole, keep you full and satisfied. Mark you up inside and out.”

Then, with a perfunctory swat on his ass that reminds Eddie of the hits he’s already taken, Steve brings his legs up, feet planted on the mattress, and gives Eddie his first proper thrust.

It’s a frenzy from there, like neither man can control themselves now that they get to have this. Eddie does his best to hang on, leaning back enough so the angle of Steve’s cock hits his prostate on every pass. It’s divine, otherworldly, ethereal. The sounds Steve makes — that they’re both making — as he rearranges Eddie’s guts and Eddie tries to keep himself up is better than any music. Punctuated by the slapping of his cock against Steve’s stomach on every down pass, Eddie’s not going to last like this.

“God, holy shit,” Steve curses, using his grip on Eddie’s waist to bring him down harder on his lap. “Fuck, Eddie— I love this. Love the way you feel around me. Love how you look riding me. Love—”

Eddie doesn’t hear the rest, the ringing in his ears too great — or maybe that’s the sound of his cries as he starts coming untouched, slamming himself down over and over again on Steve’s cock while his own unloads across Steve’s stomach, his chest, his own body because he’s kind of a fire hose and can’t control it.

“Fuck, yeah, baby! Take it! Take i— AH!” Steve moans, curses, screams as he hits his own peak, and Eddie swears he can feel every pulse of Steve’s come filling him exactly as he asked. 

He collapses like a marionette shortly after, no doubt crushing Steve beneath him, but the older man just holds Eddie through the aftershocks without complaint, pressing kisses to his temple and cheeks and anywhere else he can reach. Steve’s hands smooth up and down his back like he’s afraid to let go and, honestly, Eddie’s afraid of what might happen if he does. 

They’ve built this… thing, this tentative relationship based on months of so much foreplay and trust and keeping each other at arm's length that now, in the afterglow of their new reality, Eddie is terrified that he’ll be found lacking. That now that he has Steve in his grasp, the man is going to realize it wasn’t worth the months of waiting.

“I can hear you panicking, sweet boy,” Steve mutters into the quiet, and oh god, his dick is still in Eddie’s body, softening but still present, while Eddie’s brain spirals. “I told you you were mine and you are. You are.” 

Steve’s hold on his grows tighter even as his soft cock finally slips out, and Eddie tries not to whine at the loss because Steve continues to hold him, rubbing his back and kissing his face. 

“I am,” Eddie mutters quietly against the sweaty skin of Steve’s neck. “Yours. And you’re mine?”

Steve hooks a finger under Eddie’s chin, bringing his face up to kiss him on the lips. “All yours, baby boy.”

[smutconnoisseur]

𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

This is a collaboration for @buckybarnesevents Shrinkyclinks 2023 Double Bang! The artist created a beautiful piece that inspired this fic. Their art is truly breathtaking and brought the story to life. Thank you for the inspiration! 

Artist: @murkycrush

Author: Smutconnoisseur

Beta: @rookthorne

Character/Ship: Grad Student!Bucky Barnes x Incubus!Steve Rogers

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: “What the fuck,” Bucky muttered, watching the living, breathing creature that had appeared from seemingly nothing, and then back to the article on his computer, its title screaming at him in big, bold gothic font: "Summoning a Demon For Dummies 101: What to Do When Things Go Wrong (Or Right)."

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Supernatural Elements, Grad Student Bucky Barnes, Incubus Steve Rogers, Shrinkyclinks | Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes/Non-Serum Steve Rogers, Explicit Content, Master/Pet, Seduction, Demon Summoning, Wing Kink, Tail Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Tail Felatio, Lust at First Sight, Horn Stimulation, Biting, Blood Play, Begging, Tenderness

Masterlist | Ao3

[worksby-d]

That Steve Guy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x grad student!Reader

Summary: The older, attractive guy in your university art class has kept to himself all semester, but you get him to open up and have a little fun. 

Warnings: Age gap

Word count: ~1,300

a/n: There shall be a part two, don’t worry 👹

It’s the final night of your art class. The room is full of paintings and drawings on display as your fellow classmates and strangers who pop in as the evening goes on walk around to look and hear about everyone’s pieces.

“I bet it’s killing him having to actually talk to people…”

Your friend’s voice knocks you out of the trance you’re in. 

“Huh?” You ask, but you’re both looking in the same direction. 

“That Steve guy,” she laughs. “You know, the one you’re staring at.”

“I wasn’t staring,” you huff, straightening out some of your pieces on the table in front of you.  

You both have spent the semester joking about him being attractive. He’s older– both of you coming to the conclusion he has to be in his forties. Fit, broad shoulders, blue eyes that you’re jealous of. 

So on second thought, you weren’t really joking.

But he keeps to himself. You don’t think you’ve ever really heard him talk. 

“Go ask him about his stuff,” she nudges you, flashing you a smirk. “Let me know if his voice is as hot as he is.”

You roll your eyes and pretend to ignore her. But you just let a few minutes pass before stepping away from your little corner, weaving through everyone standing around until you make it to Steve’s side. 

He’s standing there like you’d expect – hands in the pockets of his jacket, only talking when someone asks about his stuff. 

Before introducing yourself, you catch a glimpse of some of his drawings.

“Wow,” you say quietly, studying them closer before looking up at him. “These are really good.”

The small smile he gives you makes your stomach flutter a little. 

“Thanks.”

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you smile back, offering your hand. 

He lets out a laugh as he shakes it. “I know.”

That catches you off guard. Your cheeks heat up a bit.

“Right,” you chuckle. “I just wanted to say hi… And let you know some of us are going out after this. Wanted to invite you.”

“Oh, thanks…” He shifts a little and you can tell he’s unsure. “I don’t know–”

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” you try to assure.

He looks amused, but still hesitant. “Where are you guys going?”

“That’s the thing. We don’t know yet…” You pause before grinning and holding your hand out. “Give me your phone.”

When he just looks at you, almost looking confused, you can’t help but joke with him. 

“You do have a phone right?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “I’m not that old.”

“Wow,” you drag the word out, teasing him. “I didn’t say anything about your age.”

“I know you were thinking it though,” he rolls his eyes and hands it to you. 

“I’ll put my number in it and text myself.” It takes just a second for you to do and you give it right back. “I’ll text you when I know where and when, okay?”

He just nods and you mirror his gesture before turning to walk away. He has to snap himself out of watching you as you make your way back through the crowd of people. 

The bar your group ends up going to is packed by the time you get there. You’ve about had your share of people for the day, but you want to stay since you were the one that asked Steve to come. 

Your eyes flicker toward the entrance every so often hoping he’ll show up. 

When he finally does, you catch yourself as your face lights up and hope no one around you notices. 

You find yourself once again making your way through a crowd of people for this guy. You can’t help but laugh to yourself at how uncomfortable he looks as he scans the room looking for someone he knows. 

“You made it,” you grin once you reach him. 

He looks relieved to see the familiar face and follows you back to where everyone else is hanging out at a group of tables in a corner.

He’s quiet at first, slowly drinking a beer, and again only talking when someone else talks to him first.

You make an effort to get him to loosen up a bit, conversing with him when no one else is. You ask him more about the art that you can’t stop thinking about and the reason he took the class in the first place. 

“I used to draw a lot,” he explains. “Then life happened and I did it less and less. But I have some time now. Figured I’d try getting back into it.”

“Good for you,” you smile.

His eyes linger on you the same way yours do on him, giving you that same fluttering feeling in your stomach as before.

As the night goes on, you don’t know who’s buying the drinks, but it surely isn’t you. They’ve given you a bit of a buzz – enough to give you a nice warm feeling and a dizzy one when you move too fast.

When you get up to leave, Steve’s hand gravitates toward your waist, bracing you as you nearly trip over a dropped cup. 

“Hey,” he says softly, leaning closer to you so you can hear him over the music that’s gotten louder. “Can I give you a ride home?”

You blink at him, clearly confused. ‘What?”

“I watched you down quite a few drinks…” He’s careful with his words, not wanting it to sound like you can’t take care of yourself. “I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t at least offer.”

You know deep down he’s right. It’s probably for the best that you don’t drive right now. 

“Okay,” you nod. “That would be great. Thank you.”

The drive is quiet at first. His radio is set to some news station– exactly what you’d expect. You have to try hard not to laugh at it.

The bright city lights are a blur as you watch them out the window. You glance toward Steve for a better view. He’s even more handsome closeup. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” you speak up softly. 

In hindsight, you were nowhere near drunk enough to need a ride home. Your buzz is already starting to wear off.

He steals a quick glance of you before looking back at the road. “I wanted to.”

He eventually pulls his car up in front of your place, but neither of you move very quickly– he doesn’t force you out and you don’t want to leave him quite yet for some reason. 

There’s an undeniable tension of some sort. 

“Do you…” You begin to break the silence. “Want to come in? Like, just for a bit?”

“I’d love to…” You feel a twinge of excitement, but he lets out a breath and you know he’s about to put a stop to it. “But I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, shit,” you sigh, letting your head fall back against the seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to misread this or make it weird.”

You reach to open the door before you can say anything else wrong, but he stops you. 

“Wait–” It’s definitely not that he doesn’t want to. “It’s just… Thank you for including me tonight. I don’t go out a lot. It was really nice talking with you. And I’d like to do more of that.” He pauses. “Could I first take you out sometime?”

Silence. Just for a moment. 

It comes to an end when you playfully swat at his arm. 

“Ow–”

“You scared me,” you scoff. “Oh my god, I thought I made a fool of myself!”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, rubbing his arm. “So?”

“I’d like that,” you agree and offer a wink before reaching for the door for real this time. But first– “You have my number. Your turn to let me know when and where.”

He shakes his head as you get out of his car, and smiles as he finds himself once again watching you walk away.

part two

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