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honeyglee · 9 days

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Let Me Raise The Bar

T | 3,602 words | Steddie | also on ao3! | Modern AU, Meet Cute, Fluff

This fic is for the @strangerthingswritersguild fic exchange, by @starryeyedjanai and @devondespresso. Thank you to @dreamwatch and @bubblesandink for betaing for me!! <3

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

edit: oh my god i forgot the keep reading the first time im so sorry guys

This night is going terribly.

He keeps telling himself he’ll delete all his dating apps for good, but the prospect of being alone forever always has him re-downloading them.

Right now, he’s remembering why he hates them so much.

He hates Tinder, specifically—guys on Tinder only want to fuck. And if that was what he was looking for, that’d be fine, great even!

But he wants a relationship and guys on Tinder will say they want one too and then turn around and leave right after they get what they want.

At least guys on Grindr are upfront about it being just a hookup—no one’s getting their hopes up or feelings hurt when it turns out to be just that.

Tinder guys will take you on a date and pretend to be interested in you as a person and then won't fucking text back after they leave your apartment the next morning. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating and it’s a waste of Steve's fucking time at this point.

And this guy tonight isn't even trying to pretend. He tried to get Steve to blow him in his apartment building garage before they even left for the date and he really should have taken that for the red flag that it was.

But Steve looks good, and he did his hair routine that takes entirely too fucking long for no one to appreciate it.

His date drives him to this hole in the wall restaurant that Steve must have passed a million times on the bus ride to his job without ever noticing.

He thought he might be able to turn things around when they got there—it’s a small Italian place, a real family-owned type vibe to it. He knows before he even orders that the food is going to be some of the best he’s tasted since moving here.

He tries asking the typical first date questions to get to know him, but his date keeps giving him short answers. So he switches to talking about himself a little, but then he realizes his date’s been staring at his mouth the whole time he’s been talking and Steve finally snaps that he isn't getting into his pants.

Steve breathes out a deep sigh as his “date” gets up and goes to the bathroom. Some fucking date this is—they haven't even gotten their fucking food yet. What a disaster.

“Hey,” he hears their waiter—Eddie, his nametag reminds Steve when he looks up—say after a minute of his date being gone. “I hate to be the bearer of super bad news, but I just saw your date slip out the back door, and I don't know if he’s planning on coming back.”

There's a lilt of sympathy in his voice and Steve can't help but snort.

“Of course he did,” Steve says. “Why can't guys just be upfront about what they want? It would save everyone so much time.”

He’s not looking for an answer, but Eddie's mouth twists and he says, “Guys are stupid. I mean, they’d have to be to give up the chance to get to know someone as cute as you.”

Steve can't really muster up a smile at the pity, so he says, “Well, whatever the case, he was my ride home, so I think I need to call a Lyft now. Can you box the food up and bring me the check?” At least he’ll have lunch for tomorrow, which doesn't feel like an adequate consolation prize for how shitty he feels right now.

Eddie shakes his head and says, “There’s no way I’m letting you pay for such a shitty date.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie continues, “Tell you what, my shift ends in ten minutes. Why don't I show you how I’d treat you if we went on a date.”

Steve's heart thuds in his chest, a flicker of hope in this incredibly dull evening. “Seriously?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Think of it as a trial run. See if I rank good enough for a real one.” He winks and Steve finds himself nodding dumbly, still shocked at the rapid turn of events.

“Okay,” Steve says, kind of breathless.

Eddie heads back to finish cleaning up his other tables before he ends his shift, and Steve fills Robin in over text about what happened.

He’s still waiting for a response when Eddie shows back up with two plates of food, setting one in front of Steve and the other where his date sat before sliding into the chair across from him.

He’s wearing a different shirt, Steve realizes. It also looks like he attempted to wrangle his curly hair into something more manageable, maybe sprayed some water on it to smooth it down.

The thought that this guy, this random guy who happened to be his waiter on this horrific night, would put in more effort than his previous date makes Steve's cheeks get hot.

Maybe this night really can turn around.

“Alright, names. Hi, I'm Eddie.” Eddie says, sticking his hand out across the table cartoonishly for a handshake. Steve suppresses a laugh and takes Eddie’s hand with a smile.

“Steve.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes brighten before he takes his hand back.

“So, Steve, what do you do for fun?” Eddie says, leaning forward slightly with vibrant confidence, tone feeling more and more noticeably rehearsed as he goes. “Other than light up the room with that smile, of course.”

Steve huffs a laugh, blushing despite himself.

“You practice that one a lot?”

Eddie shrinks back a little, still smiling even as he messes with the hair on the back of his neck, already starting to ruffle what he’d tried to tame.

“Yeah, it’s uh…”

“It’s sweet.” Steve leans in a little closer himself, trying to match the effort Eddie keeps putting in. “Almost as sweet as the smile you're wearing.”

Eddie flushes pink and lets out a little “Thank you” to cover a nervous laugh—and christ, Steve is already hooked.

Steve hums and grabs his fork to start eating and Eddie mirrors him.

“Thank you for this by the way.” Steve continues, “Tonight's been… ugh, you know.”

“A special kind of shitty?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “So all this is… really nice.”

“I'm glad.” Eddie says, voice soft before he shrugs and continues casually “M’hoping I’ll at least do better than the last guy.”

“Yeah, of course, you haven’t even asked me to blow you yet or anything.”

Eddie turns red and busts out a nervous laugh, looking away immediately. God, he’s so fucking cute.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm not–” Eddie looks back at him, nervous still, but sincere anyway, “That's not exactly my style.”

“You a wine and dine kinda guy?”

Eddie shrugs lightly, then he seems to get an idea, leaning in again with a smile “Actually– ideally, I'm a dine and mine kinda guy.”

A smile takes over Steve’s face that he can’t fully tamp down, a little flustered and a lot amused.

Eddie preens, then continues with a shy smile.

“Though, uh, usually it's more dine and…” Eddie pauses, “Pine. Dine and pine. You know, like pining.”

Steve makes his face relax as he nods and leans back. “Oh, yeah, like the tree.”

Eddie stops and looks at Steve, and soon Steve’s smile breaks out again.

“No, I know what you mean.” He says with a little laugh that Eddie quickly mirrors.

Eddie visibly relaxes, slouching overdramatically to the side with a sigh.

“God, I swear I’m usually good at this sort of thing, words and stories and shit,” He groans, gesturing around almost like he’s talking to himself, “But apparently I meet one pretty boy and suddenly I’ve got screws loose. And they’re all falling out, all across the floor, ‘there they go!’, y’know?”

Steve bites back a snicker and hums a quiet agreement. Eddie notices, though, looks up and sees right to Steve’s amusement, so Steve decides to save them both the embarrassment and move on.

“So your job. You like it here?

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Eddie says, perking up and gesturing as he starts talking, “The owners are really cool, they were our neighbors– Wayne’s—my uncle’s—neighbors when I first moved in with him, way way back, and they were so chill, loved having people over. Then one time in highschool I mentioned saving up ‘cause I’m trying to make it big with my band, and they offered to give me a job here while we get there.”

“That’s awesome. Your band any good?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Eddie laughs, playing with the food on his plate, “Wayne says we’re pretty good, which is probably the equivalent of moms showing up to their toddler’s dance recitals, but it’s something.”

“Where'd you guys play?”

“The Hideout, a couple blocks down…”

Steve nods.

“Yeah, it’s, uh, pretty fun if you ever wanted to stop by.��

“Sounds like a great second date.”

Eddie blushes, playing with his hair again as he smiles and looks away.

“I’ll probably have to wear earplugs– not because of your band or–”

“No, no, no, you’re good–” Eddie says, almost jumping up to reassure him, “It’s metal, that’s normal– good, even.”

“Oh– good.” Steve says, a bit awkwardly, and looks back down to his food.

Eddie leaves barely a moment of silence before he pulls the conversation back together.

“So what about you? You just a professional bad-Tinder-dater?”

Steve huffs and fiddles with his fork.

“Guidance counselor, actually.”

“Oh damn, really?”

“Yeah, Middle school.”

“Oh god,” Eddie groans playfully, “I can't imagine going back there willingly.”

“Yeah, I mean, it can get pretty rough,” Steve shrugs, “It's good though. Kids start thinking about who they are, I get to try and make that a little less shitty.”

“That’s a tall order.” Eddie laughed into his glass. “I respect it though. Hell, just having a queer adult exist around me would’ve made a lot of it easier.”

“God, yeah. I've got practice, at least, for when they need more than just some guy standing around in an office.” he laughed, pulling out sarcastic air quotes for the next part, “ I ‘babysat’ kids in middle school before I graduated. Bunch of little shits but they were good kids– still are good. They're like four years younger than me though, so they're more like siblings than kids.”

“Yeah, bet they don't take well to ‘kids’.”

“Oh, they hate it.” Steve laughed and Eddie followed with him, “Always hated it, but Dustin put his foot down after highschool. Rob and I call them my ‘twenty-somethings’ now.”

“God, wait, how old are you?” Eddie laughed

“Twenty-six.”

Eddie laughed a little louder, a lively and full laugh that looked enchanting on Eddie.

“You'd love them, they're all–

Steve’s phone buzzes.

Both of them look over to it on the table. Steve moves it to the seat next to him, looked up to Eddie with an apologetic smile.

His phone buzzes again.

And again, and soon Eddie’s eyes flick in that direction, eyebrow quirking with barely-restrained curiosity.

Then Steve’s phone starts ringing, the electric guitars of Hammer To Fall creeping up in volume way too fast for comfort.

“Sorry–” Steve cringes, grabbing his phone and answering the call in a furious whisper, “Robin, are you dying?”

“No, but thank you for confirming that you aren’t.”

“I texted you what happened.”

“Yeah and it was vague as hell! I reserve the right to be a worrywart with this shit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighs, but can’t really argue with her on it. “This was going well, though–”

“Is.” Eddie chimes in, not trying to be loud enough for the phone to pick it up, just for Steve to hear him clearly.

“Is going well.” Steve smiles.

“Oooo okayyy.” Robin hums and Steve can hear her cheeky smile through the phone.

“Goodbye, Robin.” Steve says, failing a half-assed attempt to cover his amusement.

“Oh wait no, tell him if he tries anything I’ll–”

“M’not doing that.”

“I will though, I’ll go after him–”

“Oh woah you’re breaking up, can’t hear you.” Steve deadpans.

“Steve, I know–”

“Love you, bye–”

“Steeeeve–”

“Don’t pull your hair out.” Steve says and hangs up, coming back to the present to Eddie watching him, thankfully looking amused instead of annoyed.

“Sorry about that.” Steve says.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Eddie leans forward again, propping his head up in one hand, “So… friend?”

“Best friend, has to be to get away with shit like that so easily.”

Eddie snorts.

“What was she calling about?”

“I wasn’t clear that this new date thing was gonna be a good thing.”

Eddie nods civilly.

“She worries,” Steve continues, “Fuckin’ tinder dates, y’know?”

“Uh, not really….” Eddie smiles.

“Good for you. They’re all the same asshole in a different haircut.” Steve says, and Eddie smiles, laughing a little with him before continuing with something calmer, a little more earnest.

“Then why keep going to them?”

Steve shrugs.

“Call me an optimist, I guess.”

Eddie hums noncommittally, like he’s thinking more than he’s sharing, and continues the conversation in a lighter direction.

The rest of the date is wonderful. A little less chaotic, especially once they start finally eating their food for real, but what it lacks in eventfulness it makes up for in comfort. They’re not exactly quiet, but Eddie’s energy always comes with a sincerity underneath, like he’s bold and fun because he just is, and not because he’s making himself be.

It’s refreshing. And as the night goes on, it becomes intoxicating.

So when Eddie offers to save him the Lyft fee and just drive Steve home, Steve agrees, just to get a little longer in Eddie’s bubble.

Eddie leads him through the restaurant and out the back into a small parking lot with a handful of cars and one big van, decorated with a clearly hand-painted dragon on the side. Which, of course, ends up being Eddie’s.

“Dustin would love this thing.” Steve says as he hops into the passenger’s seat, not really thinking twice about it as he looks at the interior, eyes lingering on the big fuzzy dice with too many sides hanging from the mirrors.

“So Dustin is…?”

“A Twenty-something.” Steve laughs as he spins the fuzzy dice to see all of its sides. “He’s like my little brother. Loves DnD and science and… all the nerd shit.”

“Nerd shit?”

“Yeah, I mean– it's not my thing but it’s cool. I’ve played with Dustin and them a couple times.”

“Oooo, a bit of a nerd, are we?” Eddie hums in a weird, almost witchy voice.

“Casually.”

“Mmm, but you’re already down the path~~”

“Just drive, dude.” Steve says with a fond eye roll.

“As you wish, your majesty.” Eddie hums in his normal voice, giving Steve a glowing glance before shoving the keys in.

“Alright, I'm about to push your nerd-tolerance to its limits.” Eddie says, pulling out his phone with a grin. He connects it to the car and quickly turns it down before drums and guitar erupt from the speakers, and Steve flinches at the volume.

“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie whispers and turns down the music again.

Steve nods, and after a second of the music playing much more quietly, he finds it much more comfortable. Nice, even. The energy is quick and alive like Eddie is, though the aggressive vocals fit his outward aesthetic more than his borderline goofy demeanor.

“It’s not the music, I promise.” Steve says, saying it casually but meaning it sincerely.

“You’re fine, I get it.” Eddie laughs, a little too cynically for Steve’s liking.

“No, I–” Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand between them, intertwining fingers and bringing both hands up between them, “I’m serious, I like it. My head’s a little sensitive, been hit a few too many times, but it’s nice. It’s bold and very energetic… stuff that I already like about you.”

Eddie blushes hard—a sweet cherry pink—as he slouches, bringing their joined hands closer to his face like he’s trying to hide behind them. Eddie rests his forehead against the back of Steve’s hand and huffs a quiet laugh.

“God, you’re quite the charmer, Stevie.” Eddie says, and Steve finds his face warming too.

“And I’m guessing it’s working?” Steve laughs.

Eddie looks up at him, smiling wide.

“Oh, it’s working very well.” Eddie says, and brings their hands closer to him again to plant a soft kiss onto Steve’s hand.

Steve’s face goes warm again, lights him on fire, and Eddie’s smile turns slightly smug before he looks away.

“Alright,” Eddie says, looking back to the front to drive but not letting go of Steve’s hand. He even reaches his left arm over to change the gears, leaning into how silly he looks to make Steve laugh.

It’s sweet, it's genuine, and it's everything to Steve.

Eddie starts driving, hand still firmly holding onto Steve’s, neither of them willing to let go first. Steve looks at it as Eddie drives, splitting most of his attention between their hands, Eddie’s profile lit up by the colorful city lights, and the road ahead as he navigates Eddie to his apartment.

And if they miss a turn or two because Steve’s tired brain doesn’t want to watch the damn road? Eddie doesn’t mention it.

“Alright.” Eddie says, putting the car into park with his left hand again, though far less comically now.

He sits there for a second, quiet like something’s on his mind, so Steve waits.

“Okay, uh,” Eddie starts, looking vaguely down as he wanders through what he wants to say, “I had fun, I’m assuming by how the nights gone that you did, too…”

Steve squeezes Eddie's hand, and Eddie laughs.

“I had a really great time. And I want to do this again, if you want to.” Eddie glances up at Steve for a second before his eyes dart away again. “But I want to be sure you’re… you’re not being an optimist with me. That you want want this, y’know, because you're an amazing guy, Stevie. I don’t know how you keep having such shit luck but believe me when I tell you it's not because of you.”

Eddie looks back up at him again and keeps his gaze there, looking more relaxed now.

“So, uh, I would love to take you out again.” Eddie says, “If you want to.”

If he wants to, as if that's not the most romantic thing Steve’s heard in his life.

Steve almost says that. He also debates kissing him or pulling him into an awkward hug over the center console that he’s sure would be put up with no matter how uncomfortable it’d be. But Steve doesn’t, because Eddie continues before Steve can make a decision.

“What do you want?”

Steve resists the urge to say a cheesy ‘You’ and thinks about it, really thinks so he can put together words that make sense, so he can give Eddie a real answer.

“I want a long relationship. A real one, y’know?”

Eddie nods.

“And I want to get married, someday. I want someone who’ll stay that long, who will love and let me love them, all cheesy and clingy and shit.”

Eddie hums, searching Steve’s face.

“And?”

Steve looks down at the joined hands between them.

“And I’d love if it were you. You’re sweet, so sweet, but you’re also… alive. Everything you do, you’re…” Steve thinks hard for a moment, working out how to phrase it. “It’s like the world doesn’t weigh you down. And you’re so genuine and you’ll come and say what you mean like it’s nothing, and I think every one of the people in my life—my favorite people—would love being around you almost as much as I do.”

Steve looks back up to him, face hot with another intense flush, and tries to smile casually.

“Hate to break it to you, dude, but you’re kinda my perfect man.”

Eddie huffs a breathy laugh, face painted with disbelief and wonder.

“Okay, then. Case closed.”

“Yeah,” Steve hums, with as much fondness as possible. Steve leans in across the center console, bringing a hand up slowly, trying to signal that he’s leaning in for a kiss.

It takes Eddie a second, and Steve gets to watch him look down at Steve’s hand and look at Steve leaning in, gets to see the moment it clicked before Eddie lunges to meet him halfway and then some, making the hand that was supposed to cradle Eddie’s face hold onto the seat beneath him to keep their balance.

Eddie kisses him hard at first, bringing a hand up to card through Steve’s hair, excited and alive. Then Eddie seems to come back to his senses, moving back but taking Steve with him until they’re both leaning over the center again.

Their kiss softens, intensity melting out into fondness, gentle but passionate, warm and Steve wants to melt from it.

Still, Steve’s going home tonight, going to go upstairs to Robin and tell her all about it. He’ll get to have a good night's sleep in a bed that doesn’t need cleaning, and he’ll get to wake up to the idea of something new brewing fresh in his mind.

Steve pulls back gently and Eddie does the same, eyes flicking open one after the other, a smile on Steve’s face and another lighting up Eddie’s.

Steve catches his breath, feeling lighter now than he has in ages, and Eddie opens his mouth to say something again.

“Does this mean I can get your number?”

#to read

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honeyglee · 9 days

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honeyglee · 9 days

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He didn't bite hard enough the first time 😞

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honeyglee · 9 days

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An Alley of Passion

Warning- Smut, Steve Rogers is a warning, sex in an alley, little bit of tearing of clothes, dominance.

Disclaimer- This is my submission for @mercurial-chuckles writing challenge, "Smutty September Fest" I hope everyone who reads likes it.

The plan was simple, enter the sophisticated nightclub, head to the back room, and collect the data.

But things rarely ever went according to plan. As soon as you and Steve entered the main floor of the club, the two of you were spotted by some goons.

You wore the expensive black halter dress, courtesy of Tony’s money. It was tight against your body, fitting perfectly against every dip and curve.

Steve, your partner on this mission, looked absolutely stunning in a tight black shirt and black pants. It hugged his body in all the right places and made his blue eyes stand out even more.

Despite the odds being against the two of you, you and Steve managed to fight off the goons and retrieved the data you came here for. However, just as you breathed a sigh of relief, more goons arrived, this time armed with deadly weapons, leaving you both cornered.

Steve grabs your hand and runs towards the exit. With the goons high on chase, Steve takes a turn towards an alley assuming it's empty.

However the two of you found yourselves in a surprising situation as you looked around. Instead of the empty, dark alley you'd expected, it was filled with couples. Some were engaged in deep conversation, others were whispering sweet nothings, and yet others were passionately making out.

Steve and you knew that the best way to avoid suspicion would be to blend in.

Steve leaned over and whispered against your ear, “Do you trust me?” You could hear the edge in his voice, the hint of urgency in his words. You nodded, looking into his eyes and hoping he had a plan to get you both out of this sticky situation.

In a swift and unexpected move, Steve pushed you against the wall. His body was so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He then turned, placing his back facing the goons, effectively shielding you with his body, his hand slipping around your waist.

Steve's grip on your waist was firm, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own. The steady rise and fall of his chest provided a sense of stability amidst the chaos.

Despite the dire situation, the sensation of being held so closely by him was electrifying, both comforting and thrilling at the same time as your heart pounded in your chest.

Time seemed to stretch out impossibly thin as the two of you stood there in silence. You could hear the goons continue their search nearby, their footsteps echoing through the alley, each sound sending a jolt of adrenaline through your system, making your heart rate quicken.

All the while, Steve stood close, his body acting as both a shield and a safety net, providing a sense of security in the midst of chaos.

As the silence continued, you swallowed, attempting to moisten your suddenly dry throat. The close intimacy of your shared space, with your body firmly against Steve's, added a new layer of intensity to the danger that surrounded you.

Every part of your being felt more alive than ever before, and as he shifted and tightened his grip on you, you felt a flutter deep within your stomach, a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Steve could feel the tension radiating from your body as you leaned slightly into him. He drew in a steady breath, attempting to calm himself. His own heart was beating erratically, and the realization of this took him by surprise.

It wasn't just the adrenaline from the situation that heightened his awareness, the proximity of your body to his had added a new layer of complexity. The protectiveness he was feeling towards you was no longer just professional; it had become deeply personal.

With the goons closing in, checking the couples around them, Steve knew he had to act fast. In a split second, his instincts kicked in, and he acted on impulse, pulling you closer and kissing you.

The action was abrupt, unexpected, but undeniably necessary to sell their cover. He could feel the soft surprise of your lips against his, the taste of your gasp, and the heat that suddenly emanated from your body.

The moment his lips met yours, a rush of heat and electricity surged through your body. Despite the shock of his impulsiveness, you found yourself responding, your body instinctively leaning into the kiss. The world around you faded as the warmth of his mouth against your own washed over you, making your head swim for a brief moment.

As Steve's lips pressed against yours, his body trapping you against the cold, rough wall, the action held a multitude of meanings. On one hand, it was a desperate measure to keep their cover, to blend in with the other couples in the alleyway. But on a more primal, subconscious level, it was also a release of the built-up tension he hadn't even been aware he'd been carrying until that very instant.

The battle between Steve's mind and body was palpable. His body responded in a way that he hadn't anticipated, his mind striving to catch up and make sense of the situation.

The kiss deepened, and he pressed you closer against the wall. While on some level, he knew it was a necessary part of the act to maintain the ruse, the way your body fitted against his, the taste and feel of you, felt intensely real, igniting a sense of awareness that he couldn't deny.

The goons finally moved on, leaving the narrow alley once again secluded. Steve slowly broke the kiss, his breath ragged and his voice a low rumble against your ear as he spoke. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” The words were tinged with a hint of frustration and pent-up desire, suggesting that he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in his taut muscles as he slowly backed up, allowing some space between the two of you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of protectiveness and frustration, his eyes burning into yours.

You mustered the courage to speak up, meeting his gaze with a hint of daring. “I don't regret it…” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

A flicker of surprise flickered across Steve's face, replaced quickly with a look of desire that sent your heart racing. “Good.” he murmured in response. Before you could react, he closed the distance between you once again, claiming your lips in another heated kiss.

The kiss was hungry, filled with a raw need that caught you off guard. Steve's hands came up to cup your face, angling it to deepen the kiss, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth. You responded willingly, your bodies pressing closely together, both seeking and taking what the other offered.

The world faded away, the only point of focus being the heady sensation of Steve's mouth on yours. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt, craving the contact. The kiss was primal, filled with an untamed passion that left you both momentarily breathless.

Steve's voice was a low, commanding growl, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “I. need. you. Now!” he emphasized, his words filled with an possessive intensity that sent heat pooling in your stomach. The need in his voice was undeniable, a demand that was impossible to resist.

You turned around, with your back pressed against his chest. Steve's hands roamed you body, as they slowly guided up your chest.

His palms perfectly cupped your breasts, feeling their weight, he kneaded them. An obscene moan escaped his lips.

Steve's hands were everywhere as he turns you around, rough and impatient, he began to tear the fabric of your dress, creating a perfect slit down the center. The sound of the material giving way was loud in the silence of the alley.

Steve's gaze roamed over the torn dress, a lopsided smirk playing on his lips. “Much better,” he declared, his voice roughened with desire. “I'll buy you a new one.”

You could only shake your head in response, your mind too wrapped up in the haze of desire to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak.

In one swift motion, Steve's hands moved to your hips, lifting you up and bringing you against his body, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. The action left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, heightening the sensation of his hard muscles pressed against your curves.

Steve's mouth claimed yours again, his kiss deep and urgent, his tongue tangling with yours in a desperate dance of lust and need. His body moved against yours, the friction between your bodies igniting a fire within you. Your hips rocked slightly against his, seeking more of that delicious friction.

Steve's hands moved from your hips to your thighs, his fingers gripping the delicate material of your flimsy underwear. Your breath hitched in your throat as he began to tear the fabric in a one swift, possessive motion.

The thought of how much your torn panties had cost flickered through your mind, but as soon as Steve's teeth found your neck, at the sensitive spot that sent waves of pleasure through your body, any concern about the ruined garment vanished.

Your sharp intake of breath was both involuntary and a clear indication that you were entirely focused on the sensations Steve was stirring within you.

His teeth nipped at the skin softly before his tongue soothed the sting, his lips trailing down to your collarbone and sucking gently. You arched into his touch, silently begging for more, your body responding fiercely to his kisses and bites.

Steve's command, delivered in a low, urgent tone broke the silence between you. “Undo my pants, doll, set me free!” he ordered, his voice filled with a raw desire that sent shivers down your spine. Your hands trembled slightly as your fingers worked to undo his pants, your obedience a testament to the power he held over you in that moment.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the restraint he was exercising to keep himself in check. Finally, his pants fell open, giving you access to what you both craved. You could feel the heat of his hardness against your core.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, your body reacting instinctively to the contact. Steve's hips moved against yours, his hard length pressing against your sensitive pussy, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His mouth claimed yours again, his kiss now more desperate, urgent, mirroring the fire that was burning between the two of you.

Steve dipped his fingers inside you, to see if you are ready for him, before putting them in his mouth, making a show of sucking them making an obscene sound that made you crave him more.

“Steve please…” You moan, gently rolling your hips against him, the anticipation almost driving you over the edge. He pauses as his eyes move over you, drinking in the sight of you, his breathing is heavy. “You're so beautiful...” he says, sliding a hand up your thigh to your hip.

Steve kisses you deeply as he pushes into you, your pussy takes all of him in. His thick length stretches your walls.

“Yes...” escaped your lips, the word a mix of pleasure and relief.

His breath catches in his throat, at the feel of you wrapped around him. His hips soon found a suitable pace, as he starts to move against you slowly. “So tight and perfect...”

You cling to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. There was no gentleness in his movements, only the primal need to claim you entirely. Each thrust was a testament to his desire, a reminder of the pent up tension between the two of you.

Your bodies moved together in desperate harmony, desperate need driving each movement. The sound of skin against skin, the harsh pants and moans filling the air, created an intimate symphony that was a reflection of the intense connection.

Steve speeds up, making your breath hitch. He presses deeper and your nails slightly dig into his shoulders. “Steve...” you moan his name, as he hits deep in your cunt, making all your thoughts scatter.

“Look at me, doll,” Steve's command was punctuated with a powerful thrust, the words spoken between grunts and pants. He wanted your eyes on him, needed to see your reaction as he claimed you, his gaze burning into yours.

Each movement was a testament to his dominant presence, his desire to take control and possess you entirely. With each breath, the air grew hotter between the two of you, the connection both physical and emotional.

His grip on your hips tightened, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and tenderness. In this moment, you were entirely his, your body responding to his every touch, your desire matching his own. The world outside faded away.

He watched intently, his gaze fixated on every flicker of pleasure that flitted across your face, his name becoming a mantra on your lips, a silent testament to the power he held over you.

He increased his pace, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate. He was losing himself in the feel of you, the way your body responded to his touch, the sounds of pleasure that escaped your lips.

His mouth found yours, his lips hungry and demanding. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours in a frenzy of passion.

As he hit a spot deep inside you that made you cry out in pleasure. He smiled against your lips, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

He continued to move, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. He was lost in the sensations, consumed by the feel of you and the sound of your moans in his ears.

His movements were growing more erratic as his own desire threatened to overtake him. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, but he forced himself to hold back, wanting to make you come first.

“Just let go, doll…” he whispers in your ear, his hips moving faster, his lips against yours. The words push you over the edge and you cry out his name, against his lips, as waves of pleasure wash over you.

You moaned into the kiss, as you came hard, Steve followed suit as he spent himself inside you. Filling you up to the brim. Catching his breath, he buried his face in your neck.

Steve gently set you down, his hands supporting your shaking legs until you were steady on your feet. Despite the intensity of the moment, his touch was tender, a stark contrast to the fierce need that had consumed him moments before.

As you stood there, trying to get your bearings, Steve smirked, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Can you walk, doll?” He asked, his tone light but filled with a smug satisfaction.

“I...I think you were a little too rough...” you retorted, a playful pout on your lips as you tested your legs, finding them shaky and unreliable.

As you took a few tentative steps, you found your legs still weak and unstable. Before you could even react, Steve scooped you up in his arms with an ease that made your heart skip a beat.

“I know you can walk,” he said, his tone amused but affectionate. “But I'm not done with you yet, doll, and I want you to save your energy.”

You couldn't help but gasp as you saw the look in Steve's eyes. The intensity in his gaze, the fire that burned within him told you that this night had only just begun. A mix of anticipation and trepidation filled your heart, knowing that the night would be long and passionate.

Also dedicated to @rogerbarnesss @buckysdoll85 @caplanbuckybarnes

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honeyglee · 9 days

Text

You, me and Vegas! Part 15

Warning- Fluff, pure fun.

Truth was, as much as Peach enjoyed the attention from Andy and the thrill of teasing him, deep down, all she really wanted was Bucky.

Yes, Andy was handsome, polite and sweet, but he was not the man she loved. Her heart belonged to Bucky, and nothing was going to change that.

She clearly remembers, the first night of sharing the bed, after living together for so many days. Bucky was nervous about it and Peach had to reassure him, they are just sharing a bed nothing more is going to happen.

That was her Bucky, the shy, noble and respective of people's personal space.

Peach oblivious to Andy's true intention, only flirted with him, just to distract herself from the hurt. Bucky not standing up for her, his asshole parents and her own realization that she had fallen in love with him.

Andy, meanwhile, was struggling more and more to keep his facade up, as he continued his stalling tactics.

Bucky veered the car off the main road and onto the sidewalk, much to Steve's horror.

“What are you doing?!” Steve yelled, his grip on the seat tightening even more. “You're on the sidewalk!!!”

“Relax,” Bucky said, weaving the car through the pedestrians on the sidewalk. “It's a short cut. We'll get to city hall much faster this way.”

“We're gonna cause an accident, or run over someone!” Steve protested, but Bucky ignored him. He only had one thing on his mind - getting to city hall and stopping Peach from signing the papers.

They were almost there now, the city hall in view. Bucky pushed the gas pedal harder, the car jolting forward. Steve closed his eyes, muttering silent prayers for their safety.

And then suddenly, there was a sharp noise, followed by a jolt. Bucky and Steve were thrown forward in their seats as the car came to a grinding halt. Bucky's heart sank as he realized what had happened.

“Oh no,” he muttered, his voice filled with dread. “Please, no...”

Steve opened his eyes, looking around confused. “What happened?” he asked, still trying to calm down from the previous adrenaline rush.

“We hit something...” Bucky said, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. Steve followed suit, both men rushing to the front to see what they had hit.

When they reached the front of the car, Bucky's fears were confirmed. Laying motionless on the hood of the car was a stray cat that Bucky hadn't seen in time to avoid. Its body was limp, eyes staring lifelessly ahead.

Just as Bucky was about to mourn over the poor cat, Steve looked closer and realized something. “Wait, Bucky,” he said, gesturing towards the cat. “Look.”

Bucky turned his gaze back to the cat, seeing what Steve saw now. Its body was unnaturally stiff and rigid. It looked more like a toy than a real cat.

A young boy approached them, his arms crossed defiantly. “What do you think you're doing?” he demanded, his voice full of anger. “That's my cat.”

Bucky looked down at the child, who was no more than eight years old. He glanced back at the toy cat on the hood of the car. “Is this yours?”

The boy nodded, his cute chubby face still angry. “Of course, it's mine!” he said, as if Bucky was the dumbest person on the planet.

Bucky crouched down to the boy's eye level, trying to calm him down. “Look, I'm really sorry,” he said, his voice sincere. “I didn't see the cat. It was an accident. Please let us go. It's an emergency.”

The boy just stuck out his tongue defiantly. “You're not going anywhere...” he said firmly.

Bucky was starting to get frustrated, but he knew he had to keep his cool. He looked back to Steve, who was standing awkwardly to the side, watching the scene unfold.

“Steve,” Bucky said, his voice strained. “A little help here?”

Steve tried, really tried to explain the kid, but the kid was adamant, not to let them go. Seeing their time getting wasted, Bucky looked at Steve.

Steve could see the gears turning in Bucky's head, and he knew that look all too well. He had a habit of coming up with hare-brained schemes when things seemed impossible. Steve shook his head furiously, silently pleading with Bucky not to do anything stupid.

Bucky got back into the driver's seat and started the car again, while Steve slid into the backseat next to the boy, who was still holding his toy cat. Steve shot Bucky a look that said ‘this is not happening.’

Bucky just smirked, flooring the gas pedal and driving off. The car lurched forward, causing the boy to grab onto Steve tightly.

Bucky stomped on the gas pedal, the car lurching forward. Steve was now in the backseat, trying to console the still grumpy boy who was clutching his toy cat in his lap.

“Bucky, slow down a bit!” Steve protested from the backseat. “We have the kid with us now!”

Bucky just gritted his teeth, his focus solely on the road. “We have no time for caution,” he repeated, his voice tight. “Peach is waiting and we need to get there as fast as possible.”

“Bucky, we can't just kidnap a kid!” Steve protested, looking at the boy who was now sulking in the backseat.

Bucky just shrugged. “It's for the greater good,” he said, making a sharp turn. “We need to get to city hall, and this is the only way. Sorry kid, but we're bringing you along for the ride.”

The boy just huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don't like you.” he muttered, glaring at Bucky.

Steve sighed, rubbing his temples. This was not how he had imagined their mad dash to city hall to go.

Back at city hall, Peach felt like Bucky won’t come. The papers were laid out in front of her, and all she needed was to sign.

“Come on, Andy,” she urged, tapping her fingers on the desk. “Can I please sign them already?”

Sensing that he was running out of time and excuses, Andy did what he thought was the last resort. He quickly got up from his chair and walked around the desk to where Peach was sitting. Without warning, he enveloped her in a tight hug.

Peach was startled by the unexpected physical contact, but quickly softened into the hug. She wrapped her arms around Andy, surprised by his sudden change in attitude.

“What's this for?” she asked, looking up at him in confusion.

“I... I just needed to give you a hug,” Andy said, struggling to keep his voice steady. His mind was racing, trying to come up with a believable excuse. “You just... seem a little down. I thought a nice hug would cheer you up a bit.”

Meanwhile, in the car, the tension was mounting. Steve was still trying to keep the kid calm in the backseat, while Bucky was driving as fast as he dared through the crowded streets. The boy was still glaring at Bucky, holding his toy cat tightly.

“How much farther?” Steve asked, his voice taut.

Bucky just glanced at the road, his eyes fixed on the city hall building in the distance. “Almost there,” he replied. “Just a few more minutes.”

In city hall, Andy was still hugging Peach. He could feel her breathing on his shoulder, and his heart was racing like a drum. He knew he had to keep stalling, but how much longer could he keep this up?

“You really do give good hugs,” Peach murmured, her voice slightly muffled against his jacket. “I didn't expect you to be the touchy-feely type, though.”

“Yeah, well, we all have our secrets...” Andy replied, trying to keep his voice casual. He loosened his grip on her slightly, but didn't let go completely, still trying to buy time.

Just as things began to feel even more awkward between Andy and Peach, a loud voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a knife.

“Hands off my WIFE, BARBER!!”

Peach's eyes widened as she recognized the voice. Bucky had finally arrived at city hall and he looked furious.

Steve and the kid were trailing behind Bucky, struggling to keep up with his long stride. The kid was still clutching his toy cat, his face filled with curiosity.

“Bucky, wait up!” Steve called after him.

Bucky ignored Steve's plea and stormed into the office, his eyes locked onto Andy, who was now scurrying away like a frightened mouse.

“That's right, run, you little weasel!” Bucky yelled aloud, lunging forward with a swiftness that belied his large frame.

Andy let out a panicked scream and darted across the room, trying desperately to escape Bucky's wrath. He jumped over desks, dodged chairs, and even leaped over the watercooler, all in an attempt to evade the angry Bucky.

Bucky continued his relentless pursuit, knocking over chairs and desks as he went. He was like a bull in a china shop, causing chaos wherever he went. Meanwhile, the kid and Steve were watching the whole scene unfold in stunned amazement.

Just when it seemed like Bucky might catch up to Andy, Peach suddenly stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Bucky, stop!” she yelled. “What are you doing?”

Bucky froze, his eyes going from Andy, who was now hidden behind a potted plant, to Peach, who was looking up at him. Her expression was a mix of shock and concern.

“What do you mean, 'what am I doing?'” he sputtered, his voice still filled with anger. “This weasel was trying to make moves on my wife, on you!”

Peach's eyes widened in shock. “Andy? Making moves on me?” she repeated, a frown appearing on her face. “You can't seriously think that. Sure he flirted a bit, but the hug was genuine.”

Bucky's face darkened at the mention of the hug. “That's what I'm talking about!” he snarled, pointing in Andy's direction. “He was holding you, touching you, flirting with you. I won't stand for it!”

Peach stepped forward, her hands on her hips. “But why, Bucky?” she demanded, her voice firm. “Why does it bother you so much that he hugged me, that he was nice to me?”

Bucky's face twisted in a scowl. “Why do you think, Peach?” he said, his voice rising in volume. “Because I love you, damn it! I love you and I don't want anyone else touching you!”

Peach couldn't believe what she was hearing. Bucky's confession had blindsided her, taking her by complete surprise. Her heart began to race as she processed his words, her mind reeling.

She had thought, that her feelings for Bucky were one-sided. She had never imagined that he could return her feelings. But here he was, confessing his love in the middle of a chaotic city hall office.

Peach crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes locking onto Bucky's. “Why didn't you say this before?” she asked, her voice firm. “Why didn't you stand up for me last night? And where were you this morning?”

Bucky winced at the question. “I...I was scared, okay?” he mumbled, his tone a mixture of embarrassment and shame. “I was scared of losing you, of saying it wrong, of making a fool of myself.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Peach's. “My parents,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation. “They've always been so hard on me, so hard on us. They have this idea of how I should live my life, and anything that differs from that, is seen as a disappointment. Standing up to them, even if it's for you, is like jumping into a lion's den barehanded.”

Bucky's expression softened a bit as he spoke, recalling his morning. “I was at my parents' house,” he said, his voice softer now. “We had a huge argument... about us. They don't approve of our friendship, of you. They wanted me to marry Dot! Can you believe it? ‘The prefers toilet for sex woman!’ But I finally stood up to them. I told them that we're together, that we're happy. And I even admitted that we got drunk married. And I have told them to never ever interfere in my life!”

Peach's eyes widened in disbelief. “You...stood up to your parents?” she repeated, her voice full of surprise and pride. “For real?”

Bucky nodded, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips. “For real,” he confirmed. “I told them that I love you, and I don't care what they think. I'm tired of living under their shadow, of letting them dictate my life.”

Bucky was on a roll now, the words tumbling out of him like a waterfall. He was on a mission to let Peach know how he felt, and he wasn't gonna let her get a word in edgewise.

“I'm tired of hiding my feelings,” he continued, his voice taking on a passionate note. “I'm tired of pretending like I don't care about you. I love you, Peach and I'm not gonna let anyone get in the way of that. Not my parents, not Andy, not anyone.”

Just as Bucky was gearing up for the next tirade, Peach suddenly stepped forward and silenced him with a kiss. Her lips met his, and she felt him melt into the kiss, all the tension and pent up energy leaving his body.

“Bucky,” she whispered, pulling back from the kiss just enough to speak. “I love you too, you big goof. Now relax and breathe.”

Bucky opened his eyes, staring down at Peach in a daze. “You...love me?” he repeated, as if he couldn't quite believe it. “Even after all the chaos I just caused?”

Peach chuckled, a soft smile on her face. “Especially after all the chaos you just caused,” she said, her fingers tracing the lines of his face. “It's kind of endearing, in a crazy, feral sort of way.”

Bucky's expression turned sheepish, a blush creeping up his neck. “You think I'm endearing when I'm feral?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, because that's what makes you, you...now who's the kid?”

Bucky reluctantly wrenched his gaze away from Peach and gestured to the kid, who was still clutching his toy cat and watching the spectacle unfold with wide eyes.

“That's just a kid we met on the way here,” Bucky explained, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “He's been tagging along.”

Just as Bucky finished speaking, the kid suddenly piped up, his voice filled with outrage. “No!” he protested, gesturing to the toy cat in his hand. “He crashed his car on my cat!”

Bucky immediately groaned, rolling his eyes. “Kid, it's just a toy,” he said, his patience wearing thin.

“But it's my cat!” the kid protested, holding the toy closer to his chest. “You crashed into it with your car!”

Bucky looked like he was on the verge of exploding, but Peach stepped in once again, her hand on his arm. “Okay, okay, let's all calm down,” she said, her voice soothing. You must be Steve? Nice to meet you.”

Steve, who had been watching the whole scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and confusion, finally spoke up. “Uh, yeah, I'm Steve,” he said, offering a tentative wave. “Nice to meet you too.”

Steve, looking a bit flushed at being suddenly addressed by Peach, quickly recounted the situation, explaining how he had asked Andy to stall for time, and how the hug was simply part of the ploy.

Andy, meanwhile, collapsed onto the nearby chair, a look of sheer relief on his face. He let out an exhausted sigh, grateful that the whole misunderstanding had finally been cleared up.

Peach listened intently, a small smile playing on her lips. Bucky, still holding her waist, grumbled under his breath.

Bucky, still grumbling, mumbled something about still not liking Andy. But Peach just elbowed him gently, her eyes sparkling with humor. “Bucky, relax,” she said, patting his hand on her hip. “No harm done.”

Bucky begrudgingly acquiesced, but his scowl didn't fully disappear. He kept a watchful eye on Andy, just to make sure there were no further antics.

Peach rolled her eyes at his protectiveness, but secretly found it endearing.

Part 14 - Part 16

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#where did this fuckin kid come from om lmao

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