#always wanting to make steve blush with his words

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 6

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5

In the next letter, Eddie makes no comment about their differing opinions. Chrissy knew he wouldn’t. She doesn’t know Eddie, not really, but he’s never seemed like the kind of guy who’d stop talking to someone over such shallow, small differences, no matter how he comes off in his little cafeteria rants.

       Secret Admirer,

       You’re enough, just the way you are, brown eyes and all. I bet they’re real pretty. I could look into them for hours, mesmerized by every color differentiation, spend days counting every one of your eye lashes.

       Just say the word—I’ll pick you up in my van and we can go to the drive-in and hold hands the whole time. I’ll wear my silver jewelry, and you can wear gold. I bet your hands would look real pretty wrapped up in mine.

       I’ll be a gentleman, sweetheart, I swear.

       Only the best for you.

       Yours,

       Eddie

       P.S. Romantic meeting spot. I can’t wait to put this note right next to your heart. Next time maybe I can put my letter in Moby Dick. After all, you’re my white whale, baby, I’m always looking for you.

She likes Eddie, really she does, but the way Steve blushes as he hands the letter to her is ridiculous. The guy’s not exactly smooth, or suave, or any of the things that should leave Steve all hot and bothered.

Still, she dutifully helps him write his reply:

       Eddie —

       Maybe someday, we’ll get to go to that movie. When we do, you don’t have to be a gentleman at all—I’m easy, if it’s for you, and it would be such a waste not to make use of all that space in your van.

       I don’t have any rings, but if I did, I think I’d want one of yours. That way, whenever I look down at them, I’d be reminded of you.

       How was your day? All I want to do is ask and hear your reply.

       Yours, always

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. I’ll search the seas for you.

“I know he’s your friend, but I just don’t get it,” Chrissy says to Jeff, walking close enough to his side that their shoulders brush. “The guy looks like a mangy poodle, and he’s not exactly Shakespeare.”

Jeff snorts. “Hey, he’s at least a cute mangy poodle,” he replies, bumping their shoulders purposefully this time.

“I guess if you’re into that sort of thing,” she mutters, and somehow, Steve is. It still shocks her, sometimes, when she thinks about it too much.

“The heart wants what it wants,” Jeff says, sounding wise, but when she glances at him, he’s grinning, eyebrows jumping up and down at her like this is all just some joke.

She scoffs, “I just wish what Steve wanted wasn’t leading toward a broken heart.”

Jeff’s expression drops at that, mouth pursing. He’s quiet all the way to Eddie’s locker. She slips Steve’s letter between the slats and keeps walking, only stopping when she realizes Jeff’s no longer beside her. When she turns around, he’s staring at Eddie’s closed locker like it holds the answers to the universe.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, finally turning back toward her and catching back up with quick strides.

Chrissy doesn’t respond, at a loss for what to say. She can’t see it, but for all the letters she’s helped write, her and Eddie aren’t friends. She doesn’t know him as well as Jeff, who’s been by his side for years, or even as well as Steve, who watches him every chance he can get.

“Yeah, maybe,” she replies, unwilling to let any hope build, not when it’s Steve’s heart on the line. “Want a ride home?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jeff replies.

And when he slides into her passenger seat, she feels a little less alone.

The letters keep coming, and Steve keeps blushing and pushing them across the table at her.

       Secret Admirer,

       Oh, a flirty one, aren’t you? I like it. But maybe I’m shy, did you ever think about that? Maybe I want to walk you to your door, slide one of my rings on your finger, and give you a little kiss. You can pick the ring, baby—I’ll even resize it to fit you just right.

       My days are always brighter when I hear from you. I go to the quarry on Wednesday’s to peddle my wares, but all I want to do is go home and play my guitar (my sweetheart). I’m writing a new song and I really want to get it down by next week’s practice, but I’m stuck on a riff I just can’t get right.

       Do you play any instruments?

       Sincerely,

       Eddie

       P.S. You’re going to make me swoon, babygirl.

And Steve keeps responding using Chrissy’s pen and Chrissy’s brain, and his own bleeding heart.

       Eddie —

       My mom made me take piano lessons when I was little, but my dad refused to keep paying for them. I didn’t want to at first, but I really liked it. Maybe I’ll brush up my skills so I can play a song for you. Any requests?

       Does your band play anywhere? I remember you from the middle school talent show, are you still going by Corroded Coffin? I bet you look hot when you play—I want to see it, someday. Your rings would glint under show lights, hypnotizing the entire audience. Especially me.

       Did you figure out your riff? I’m waiting with bated breath.

       Sincerely,

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. leave this one in The Taming of the Shrew.

She wants to build a cage and lock him inside, or shake him and shake him until he sees what a risk he’s taking. Jeff might not see it, his priorities are different. But her first concern is Steve, always will be Steve, whose heart isn’t the only thing on the line. And she can feel it coming—the moment, inevitably, when this whole thing falls to pieces.

       Secret Admirer,

       Have you read this play? It’s not the romantic story you think it is. Since you’re already holding the book, why not check it out? I promise not to look at the checkout card to figure out who you are (I say, unrepentantly lying).

       My band actually just got our first gig at the Hideout. It’s next Tuesday, and you should come! I would love to see you in the audience, cheering me on. I’ve been trying to respect your boundaries, but darling, I want to see you. Will you come? Please?

       Thinking of you, always,

       Eddie

Chrissy doesn’t want to stand by and watch Steve Harrington break.

*** 

Part of Eddie wonders if he won’t get another letter—if she’ll just show up at the Hideout next Tuesday with a smile. Still, when he hasn’t received an answer for a couple days, he checks if anyone’s checked out The Taming of the Shrew, but no, it’s still there, nestled on its shelf in the library, Eddie’s damning letter no longer inside.

He’s starting to wonder if he made a terrible mistake.

It’s happenstance, the way he finds out. He could have just as easily not forgotten his campaign notes. He could have been prepared, and not left all his little sheep moaning and groaning about what amounts to a five minute delay, if he’s quick about it.

He could have, but he didn’t.

Instead, Eddie stands at the end of the hall, transfixed, as he watches Chrissy Cunningham’s distinctive high ponytail sway back and forth as she walks away. From his locker. Where he just saw her slip something in.

She’s well out of sight before Eddie walks up to the looming hunk of metal on shaky legs. It takes three tries to get it open, and there, for all and sundry to see, is an envelope with his name written in a familiar scrawl.

He doesn’t open it.

“What took so long?” Doug gripes as Eddie shuffles back into the room, clutching his notebook to his chest.

Eddie walks slowly to his throne without replying, eyes still unfocused and fixed on the swishing of Chrissy’s hair.

“Are you okay?” Jeff asks.

Eddie shakes the thoughts out of his head, leans back on his throne, and smiles. “Sometimes a quester is besieged on his travels and must defeat a mighty foe before he can return from whence he came.” He says it with all the gravitas of his dungeon master voice.

Doug laughs, Gareth rolls his eyes, but Jeff’s eyes are narrowed on his face for the next ten minutes until he gets sucked into the campaign. And Eddie? Eddie’s heart isn’t in it. No matter how determined he is to put it out of his mind, it keeps sticking to his neurons.

Because Chrissy? She’s nice, sure. And pretty, definitely. Her hair’s…nice? Bouncy? It’s probably soft. And yeah, she’s a jock, but she’s not like most of them—too kind to give a kid a swirly or call any of the other girls fat.

Which brings him to the King of the jocks, Steve Harrington, whose name is practically branded on Chrissy’s shoulders by this point, whose arm is pretty much super-glued around her waist. Steve, with his perfect hair, and long eyelashes, and those big brown eyes, and all those muscles.

Something too squirmy to be hatred sinks in his gut. Jealousy, maybe? Because how could someone like him compete with King Steve for a lady’s hand, love notes or no?

He’s distracted for the rest of the campaign, says half-hearted goodbyes to the boys before finally closing the van door on them and driving away.

When he opens the letter in the safety of his bedroom, it’s shorter than usual:

  Eddie —

  There’s nothing more I want than to see you up on that stage, rocking out, in your element, but I’m just not ready. I hope you’ll forgive me.

  Yours,

  Your Secret Admirer

  P.S. If you still want to respond, I’ll look in the big print edition of The Hobbit.

He goes over the words again and again, finger running along the lines of each character, trying to picture Chrissy pouring over them with her pen.  He loves all the words in all the letters, wants to carve them all on his skin, helplessly charmed by each vulnerability shared.

He can’t quite make the words fit the girl.

Eddie still drops his next reply in the big print edition of The Hobbit the next morning. He watches Chrissy all day. He’s surprised, somehow, when she meets his eyes once across the insurmountable distances between them in the lunchroom. She ducks her head immediately and blushes, even with Harrington’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.

There isn’t another note by the end of the day.

“So, wait,” Gareth says, stoned out of his mind and sprawled out on Eddie’s bed after the hell they call education finally released them. “You’re saying Chrissy has been leaving you all those notes?”

Eddie spins around in his desk chair, but it’s not one of those fancy wheeled ones that Harrington probably has, so he’s forced to turn and straddle the back, letting his head hang over the headrest as he groans.

“For the last time, yes!” he says, more to the little bits of his carpet that he can see than to Gareth himself. “It’s Chrissy!”

Gareth takes another hit, blowing smoke toward Eddie’s ceiling to swirl around and join the rest of the stains up there. “Are you sure it wasn’t just someone who looked like her? How close to her were you?”

Eddie groans again, shuffles off his uncomfortable chair to flop beside Gareth and steal his joint back. “She was wearing a cheerleading uniform, man,” he says before taking a puff and letting all the smoke out with his next words. “And no one else on the team has that color hair.”

Gareth hums, twisting on his side to burrow his head into Eddie’s only pillow. “What is that color even? Like, blond but with a weird red in it? What’s it called, bluh-red?”

He laughs like that’s the funniest joke in the world, so Eddie doesn’t hand back the joint, just pulls on it until he’s down to the quick and ashes it on his nightstand as Gareth whines.

“It’s strawberry blond, you idiot.”

Gareth wrinkles his nose at that. “That’s a stupid name.”

Eddie smacks his hand out, lets it hit Gareth’s arm with a solid thwack. “You’re supposed to be helping me!”

“With what?” Gareth replies, rolling away from Eddie when he goes to hit him again. He ends up on Eddie’s floor, fall cushioned by all of his dirty clothes scattered about. “Just like, talk to her?”

“Chrissy Cunningham?” Eddie demands. Gareth doesn’t seem to be understanding the severity of the situation. “Whose head cheerleader and, oh yeah, dating Steve Harrington?”

“So what? The guy’s a douche,” Gareth replies.

Instead of getting back up on the bed, he snuggles further into Eddie’s dirty clothes, rolling around like a pig in a mud puddle until he’s got enough of Eddie’s discarded shirts on him to function as a makeshift blanket.

Harrington is a douche. He’s got to spend an obscene amount of time on his hair in the morning, and he hangs out with those hyenas on the basketball team all the time, and he’s Steve Harrington. Rich kid, lady killer, King Steve Harrington.

Maybe all Chrissy really wants is an excuse to leave him. If that’s what his lady wants, he will provide.

*** 

Steve’s been sitting on Eddie’s letter for a few days now, at a loss for what to say. He puts it under his pillow at night, hoping the perfect answer will come to him in his dreams. He finds himself unfolding it and refolding it again and again, wondering if the words will change.

  Darling,

  If you’re not ready, that’s okay. But the heart wants what it wants, and you can’t blame me for trying, can you? Even still, I’ll be singing just for you.

  Of course I still want your letters, never doubt that. They’re still, always, forever, the best part of my day.

  Always,

  Eddie

  P.S. Excellent choice in hiding places, have you read it?

It’s just, a big part of him had expected Steve’s dismissal of meeting up would end this thing they have. He’d braced for it, and instead, Eddie was sweet.

And Steve can’t give him what he wants, isn’t what he wants, so he keeps the letter with him and stews on it, Chrissy sending him worried looks when she thinks he’s not paying attention.

No matter how lost in thought he is, a part of him is always tuned into Eddie’s presence, so he sees him coming before Chrissy does.

“Miss Cunningham,” Eddie says, leaning forward like a gallant knight as he takes her small hand in one of his own. She jumps, eyes darting up from her lunch to meet Eddie’s own. “Can I have this dance?”

The rest of the lunch table titters. It might have been charming, if they were at a dance, or anywhere aside from shoehorned to the side of the table with all of Steve’s shitty friends laughing.

It might have been charming if Eddie’d looked at Steve at all.

Chrissy’s sure looking at him, though—eyes all wide in her face as she shifts her gaze back and forth from Steve sitting across from her to Eddie crouched at her side.

“Um—” is all she gets out before Jason stands from the far end of the table and starts taking threatening steps forward.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Freak?” Jason demands, chin raised.

Steve’s about ready to stand, insert himself in the whole thing, but then Eddie’s lips graze Chrissy’s hand.

Jason stumbles back like he’s been shot. Eddie grins against Chrissy’s skin, turns his gaze away from Jason, and lands on Steve. He can almost feel it on his own skin as Eddie puckers his lips again and presses another kiss to Chrissy’s skin, this time to the smooth surface of her wrist.

He never looks away from Steve.

“Um!” Chrissy says again.

Only then does Eddie break eye contact with him. He drops Chrissy’s hand, placing it gently back to the table, says, “until next time, mi amore,” and saunters away, continuing until he’s out of the cafeteria entirely.

Steve doesn’t look away until the door swings shut and blocks his view of Eddie entirely.

“What was that, Chrissy?” Jason demands. He’s moved closer while Steve was distracted, absolutely towering over her, looking more like a beleaguered father than an ex. “First Harrington, and now the Freak?”

Steve wants to defend himself, defend Eddie, defend Chrissy. But despite what Jason clearly thinks, she’s never needed defending, so he asks, “do you want to get out of here?”

“God, yes,” Chrissy sighs.

They leave their lunches uneaten and their tables unbussed, hustling out the same doors Eddie’d just sauntered through, leaving a scolding Jason in their wake. Something about devil worship and blaspheming?

Steve’s not exactly the church-going type; he’s just glad when the doors swing shut and cut off Jason’s little speech.

“What was that?” Chrissy asks in a whisper despite the deserted corridor.

“Jason?” Steve asks at his normal volume. “I don’t know, he’s always been a bit like that, hasn’t he?”

“Not Jason,” Chrissy snaps, slapping at Steve’s arm, taking any sting out of the motion by wrapping her arm in his after and reeling him right back in. “Eddie!”

Steve, who had sort of been hoping that he could pretend the whole thing had been a vivid hallucination, has nothing to say.

“Do you think he knows?” she asks, voice quiet again as she looks furtively around the deserted halls, for random passerby’s or even Eddie himself.

“About you?” Steve asks, stomach sinking even further when he continues, “or about me?”

Chrissy stumbles, eyes going impossibly wider at the thought. She pulls him into an abandoned classroom and pushes him into one of the uncomfortable chairs. She sits in front of him, looking across the desk between them like he’s a sad woodland creature she’d just hit with her car.

“He can’t know about you,” she says. “He was flirting with me.”

Steve grimaces. Chrissy’s too nice, always thinking the best in people like she doesn’t have Jason Carver as living, breathing proof that sometimes, beyond all expectations, people can suck.

“He could be fucking with me. Eddie seems like the type to play with his food.” Steve stares down at the grooves of the desk he’s seated in. Someone had carved FUCK on it in big, bold letters. Steve’s never agreed with a sentiment more. “Do you think Jeff told him?”

Chrissy shakes her head so hard that her ponytail whacks her in the face. “No way, he promised!” she reminds him.

Jeff seems like a good guy, but Steve’s not sure how far that goes. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to trust like that, not with this.

“Well, what do we do?” Steve asks. “Should you just flirt back next time?”

Chrissy bites her lip, worrying at the dry skin there until Steve taps her chin in reminder, and she puts her teeth back in her mouth.

“Maybe it won’t happen again?”

Steve sighs, thunking his head down against the desk. “Yeah, maybe,” he murmurs into the wood, Chrissy’s hand patting his shoulder a paltry consolation to the nightmare he’s found himself in.

*** 

It happens again.

“Carry your books, my lady?” Eddie asks. He’s already got his hands out expectantly, but he’s too much of a gentleman to make a move without her say-so.

She watches his hopeful grin for a moment before sliding her pile of books into his awaiting arms. Once secured, he does an endearing little fist bump before taking up residence at her side like it's his birthright.

“What are you doing, Eddie?” she asks.

“What do you mean?” he asks, almost sounding clueless enough to convince her, if it wasn’t for that little smirk on his lips.

Everyone in the hallways are giving them a wide berth, clearly shocked by the unexpected pair. It’s nice, almost, to be given so much space. But—

But.

“You know I’m with Steve, right?” Chrissy asks.

Eddie grimaces, like just hearing Steve’s name is enough to sour his mood. “What, is it illegal to walk a pretty girl to class now?” he asks.

Chrissy’s own mood sinks to the pits, and she sighs, disappointed. “No,” she replies before letting the silence between them linger uncomfortably.

Eddie’s fidgeting with her books, anxious fingers fluttering against the loose pages of one of her notebooks, and his eyes dart toward her every couple of seconds.

“Chrissy—”

“You know, for someone who spends so much time ranting about the status quo, you sure can’t seem to look past skin deep.”

Eddie jerks like she struck him. Chrissy would feel bad if she wasn’t thinking about having to tell her best friend about this in a couple hours. “I see you,” he murmurs, shifting on his feet and not meeting her gaze as he holds out her books for her to take.

When Chrissy sighs, he flinches again. “I don’t think you do,” she says, not sticking around to see how it lands.

She’s got class to get to, and a best friend’s heart to break.

Chrissy snags Steve’s hand before he can walk through the cafeteria’s swinging doors and pulls him the other way. They settle into the same, abandoned classroom in the same, abandoned seats.

“It happened again,” she says, not letting go of Steve’s hand.

He’s still got a bit of polish clinging to his nails, the chipped yellow making him look almost jaundiced with how patchy it is. She uses her own fingernail to chip at it, ignoring the sunshine yellow flakes dropping down to the empty desk separating them.

Steve doesn’t ask what happened again; he doesn’t need to.

“Did you flirt back?” he asks.

Chrissy bites her lip. “I let him carry my books.”

She hadn’t flirted, is the thing, but she hadn’t gotten rid of him either. She knew, no matter how heartbroken he looks across from her right now, he wouldn’t have wanted her to.

“Okay,” he says, like it really is, like he means it. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me!” she snaps, snatching her hands back for a second before the bewildered look on his face has her reaching out again. “What are you thanking me for?”

Steve smiles—it’s small, and sad, and he’s beaming it right into her soul. “For keeping me safe.”

Chrissy groans, dropping her head onto their clasped hands and just keeps groaning. He means it—of course he does. If there’s one thing she’s learned since this whole thing started, it’s that Steve Harrington is somehow, inexplicably, too nice for his own good.

“I love you, you know,” she says, lips brushing against his skin with every word.

She’s been thinking it since he’d called her his best friend in that letter, since he’d said it and she hadn’t said it back. It sits unsaid behind her teeth every time he smiles, or frowns, or anything at all. He’s just too dang easy to love.

When he doesn’t reply, she forces herself to raise her tired head and get a look at his face. His eyes are big and round, mouth hanging open far enough that she’s tempted to close it for him, and there’s a damning sheen to his eyes that makes her own water.

“Really?” he asks, voice cracking. “You do?”

“Of course,” she replies, the way he always does to her, no matter what she asks for.

He smiles again, and it’s big this time, happy and watery around the edges as he says, “love you, too,” leaving the “I” out of the confession like that’ll somehow make the whole thing less real.

They’re smiling at each other like damn fools when Steve’s stomach growls and they dissolve into giggles.

“Buy me lunch?” she asks.

“Of course.” He jumps up from the desk and holds out his hand for her, an unknowing mirror of Eddie this morning.

She doesn’t put her books into his arms, just takes his hand.

PART 7

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Hiii I loved it duff platonic but would you do one that romantic??

Summary: The Outsiders with a "Duff"!Reader (romantic)

Warnings: mentions of bullying

Author's Note: I believe that I have never met anyone that was actually ugly, everyone is beautiful, because beauty is subjective.

PONYBOY was more of a personality man than looks one. He knows you aren't 'conventionally' attractive, but you have these quirks that made him swoon, and your joyful smile was enough to have him tripping over his feet. He loves how your personality is so enchanting, and it reminds everyone that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. He never has to stick up for you because people are usually so charmed by you that Ponyboy stays out of it. He's so happy with you. He finally found someone who could read, take walks with him, and be domestic with.

JOHNNY seriously thinks that you're a gorgeous girl. He's always there to cheer you up when you're feeling insecure or even when you're not. He holds you as if you were a pretty piece of fine China and makes you feel so special. There's not an outfit you feel ugly in when you're around him! You two are such a power couple too because his love language is words of affirmation, and you blush every time he compliments you, and everyone thinks it's so cute.

SODAPOP doesn't think he's seen a prettier girl than you. He actually brings you in every once and a while to the DX because you attract customers. They love chatting with you, and you exude such a lovely aura. He does have to teeter on the edge of physical confrontation to the drunk guys that come around the shop to piss you off, but they get scared off easy. He loved you a lot, and he realized how little beauty means in the end. Sandy was pretty but terrible to him, but you made your beauty known through so many different ways that he was utterly entranced.

STEVE couldn't believe he bagged you. So what if you didn't "fit" into the norm? He thought you did. He looked at you as if you were a direct descendent of Aphrodite. He keeps pictures of you everywhere and shows them off to everyone. He gets aggressive with people who try and make fun of you, and he usually wins if they pursue a fight. His family loves you and can't wait until you're a permanent fixture to their holiday dinners.

TWO BIT also thinks of himself as a duff. He thinks you are genuinely a very pretty girl, and he feels sorry for every man who's missing out on your charming personality. His sister loves you, and treats you as if you were already her sister. Abd he talks about you any chance he gets, gushing over your amazing personality and cuteness.

DARRY doesn't give two shits about what others think about you and about how you look. He still wants his kids to look like you, and he's literally counting town the days he can propose to you. He doesn't get physical over you, but protective. He prefers his hand on the small of you back or your waist at all time.

DALLAS tries to act like he's doesn't like you a lot but he does. He doesn't ever ask you out or anything near it for the first year and a half of knowing each other. Then he would take you places and count it as a date unbeknownst to you. Hes worried how you two would affect each other. But he's waiting for the perfect time to ask you out.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

something about all the nicknames stucky have (and can have) for each other really gets to me. like Bucky having his "Stevie" and Steve having his "Buck" Bucky being his "jerk" and Steve being his "punk" ... And the idea of them going from older slang terms for each other to more modern vernacular and Steve calling Bucky his "man"... or better yet Bucky reacting the memes about Steve and turning "America's Ass" to something without the hero moniker and more intimate and personal to Steve himself

Yes!

It's about the 🤌🏻nicknames 🤌🏻

Like, just as you said, there's so many built into their canon, but there's also so much potential for the modern nicknames, as you have said again, as well as the potential for older nicknames that they can indulge in not just in private now that they can be open about their relationship.

I. fucking. love. it.

(These are all randomly assigned based on my gut reaction, so... 🤷🏻‍♂️ idk, enjoy?)

Bucky's nicknames for Steve: Stevie, punk, spitfire, little shit, sweetheart, sweet cheeks, doll (and doll face), darling, pet, cap, America's ass (and sometimes my ass (if he's feeling possessive or if he's done with Steve's shit)), turtle dove, baby, McDreamy (and McSteamy), hunk, twink, twunk, my man, etc.

Steve's nicknames for Bucky: Buck, jerk, asshole, dreamboat, sweetheart, doll face, angel face, honey, sarge, sharp shooter, wolf (coming from white wolf (and sometimes it's wolfy haha)), bubba, baby, babe, boo, play boy, my man, etc.

In conclusion: they love their pet names.

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie where Eddie moves into a small house in a retirement mobile home park. He is the youngest guy there and is pretty handy. All the old ladies in the neighbourhood start to talk about him when he begins to offer his handyman skills to them as well.

One day after finishing up winterizing Mrs. Harrington’s water supply to her trailer she invites Eddie inside for some tea to warm up. Winter hadn’t hit yet but it was already nippy out she told him. Once inside she invites him to come over Sunday night to join her and her friends ‘book club’. At first Eddie politely declines but once she explains to him that its all the old ladies in the neighbourhood sitting around drinking wine, smoking joints, and gossiping he’s in.

Enter Steve who visits his grandma every Sunday for dinner and sometimes stays for her gossip sessions with all the other bitties in the neighbourhood because the snacks are always great. Steve is surprised that week when the door bell rings and a hot long haired pierced man covered in tattoos is standing there instead of another old woman handing him her coat and cane. Steve sputters for a moment but then his grandmother is coming up behind him explaining this is the young man who fixed her water supply for her.

“Well um, thank you for that.” Steve nods awkwardly, watching over his shoulder as his grandmother waddled away back to her friends. “You didn’t have to come though, sorry if she twisted your arm about it, she’s stubborn.” He rubbed at the back of his neck with a small chuckle.

“It’s okay I really don’t mind.” Eddie smiled easily, inching his way into the house and Steve’s personal space. “Smoking weed with a bunch of old ladies and gossiping about my new neighbours sounds like a great way for me to spend my Sunday.” He winked.

“I- yeah it is pretty fun.” Steve agreed having not moved at all. “The snacks are always great too, you’ll have to try Betty’s blondie cake it’s always my favourite.” Steve leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.

Eddie beamed back at him, eyes roving all over Steve’s face before pausing at his lips for a second then darting back up to his eyes. “Lead the way then big boy.” Eddie bit his lip at how red Steve’s face got, he decided to push it slipping his hand into Steve’s.

“Yeah- uh sure yeah.” Steve nodded dumbly staring at their connected hands for a moment before snapping out of it and tugging Eddie along. “Everything is set up in the living room, I just got the fire going to so it should be warm.”

By the end of the night Eddie and Steve were melted into one another on a small single seater in the corner of the room. They watched as all the ladies gathered their coats one by one as their husbands came to collect them.

“It’s sweet.” Steve sighed unprompted, his head lolled against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie made a questioning noise so he continued. “Seeing their husbands come walk them back home at the end of the night. They aren’t annoyed that their wives are giggly and a bit wobbly they are just happy they are happy and want to be there to take care of them.”

“You are a sappy stoner Steve.” Eddie teased, he moved his hand over and dropped it onto Steve’s thigh giving it a squeeze. “Can’t say I blame you though, it is very cute to see.” Eddie sighed before unsticking himself from Steve’s side and making his way to the door himself. “I better get going, no husband to come walk me home”. He blushed at the implication of his own words.

“I’ll be your husband.” Steve blurted then immediately turned red. “I mean- I meant that I uhum-“

“You can walk me home Steve.” Eddie smiled wide and teasingly. He looked his arm through Steve’s and tugged him through the door, waving goodbye to Mrs.Harrington with a promise to be back next week.

The walk was short considering Eddie was only 2 houses down and one across. They kept their arms looped the entire 3 minutes they walked, and once they reached the door Steve still hadn’t let go.

“Well goodnight.” Steve spoke first, ducking his head away. He took a deep breath then looked back to Eddie determination on his face when he spoke. “See you next week?”

Eddie smiled but shook his head, “I was hoping sooner, how does Wednesday sound?” He moved in closer his hand sliding down to Steve’s waist.

“Wednesday is great I love Wednesday.” Steve nodded frantically then cringed. “I mean I don’t actually love all Wednesday’s just this one because we are-“

Eddie cut his rambling off with a kiss. He leaned in and connected their lips, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of Steve’s head.

Steve melted into the kiss, his body going lax in Eddie’s hold, “Thanks for saving me from embarrassing myself further.”

“Anytime sweetheart.”

[taintedcigs]

˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 2; summer breeze — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader x eddie munson

summary: in which some chaos ensues between the boys and billy, and one of the boys finally get what they want; you. (wc: 6.5k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious) kinda fist fight? billy gets punched, im sorry but billy gets punched a lot in my fics, protective steddie hehe, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater and kinda of a mastermind, eddie is a cutiepie.

authors note: not proof-read ignore mistakes ! thank u @andvys for giving me the best ideas always and thank u for helping me! ily and hope u enjoy this mwah!!! also yall know mastermind by ts? and how its kinda supposed to be sarcastic? well i took that song too seriously and literally. listened to a lot of metal and this fic is their love child! enjoy !!

and please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol. 1 here

Fuzzy.

Exactly how your mind and body felt.

You didn’t expect to do that with Steve.

King Steve. You were just supposed to play with him.

He wasn’t supposed to make you feel like this.

And it wasn’t anything, it was purely physical. Or at least that’s what your mind forced you to think.

Because no one had ever made you cum like that before, no one ever attended to you like that before.

Pathetic. Really pathetic. You’ve fucked half the guys in Hawkins, yet one night with Steve, and he didn’t even fuck you, yet that’s all you could think about.

You sucked on the cigarette sitting between your lips, the feeling giving you a lewd reminder of earlier when you remembered how good he felt between your lips, sliding down your throat.

Shit shit shit. Shut the fuck up. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Want something stronger than that?” The voice belonged to the curly-haired boy you were looking everywhere for.

It felt like a fucked up horny deja vu. 

Turning around swiftly, the smoke formed around the air between you when you blew it in his face, making him grin. “Eddie!” Your tone gleeful, “Been looking everywhere for you!” Sweet. Sweet but so fucking dangerous. Eddie knew that about you.

He knew about the effect you had on everyone. I mean, he wasn’t complaining, he was right there in line with them. Just to have a glimpse of you.

He and Steve shared one thing in common; you.

Maybe that’s eventually what drew them closer, both boys begging for your attention in every way possible. Pathetic, but you were so tempting.

They teased each other about you, Eddie bragged about the countless times you batted your lashes at him, the countless times you twirled and giggled at him.

and Steve bragged about how you looked at him with your alluring eyes, or how you called him ‘baby’ that one time. 

Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve the way he did with you, because Steve usually never got hung up on one girl, it was simple for him, he’d fuck one and then move to another. But you always kept him on his toes. Something no one ever did before. So he always tried and tried, failing regardless. 

He didn’t blame him, he’d burn the world down if you asked him to, even though the only interactions he had with you were when you bought something from him, or the countless times you winked at him whenever he saw you around. God, that had him on his knees. 

So it was no surprise he almost melted when you said those magical words. You? Looking for him? 

“Me?” A rush of bubblegum pink is quick to rise to his cheeks. He can’t help himself, Steve was going to freak out when he found out how you were looking for Eddie. God, he was going to have fun with this. 

“Where’s Billy?” He added, trying to sound cool when he lit the freshly rolled joint sitting on his wetted lips. 

He was cute. Didn’t even know the rumors, and the blush on his cheeks weirdly had you need him. 

“We broke up,” you hummed, and a boyish grin sat on his lips immediately while he noted how you didn’t have a sad bone in your body, that jerk didn’t deserve you. “I’m just having fun now, you know?” You added with a smirk. 

You were going to be the death of him. He could be fun, he could be so fucking fun, he could make you feel fun you’ve never felt before. 

“Oh, yeah? With who, now?” Shit, shit, shit. That is not what he meant to say, he was an absolute fucking idiot. A grade one asshole.  

Your eyes widened when you tilted your head, “are you calling me a slut, Munson?” You snatched the joint from his lips, earning a whine from him as you kept your piercing eye contact. 

The pinkish color on his cheeks turned blood red, and you could see him almost fidgeting. Why did you find it so endearing? 

“N-no! No that’s not what I meant at all! You’re not a slut! I mean if you want to be you could be— I mean you’re not but—” His words tangled with each other adorably, and you couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle. 

“I’m just playing with you!” You playfully nudged his shoulder, adoring the way his grin came back instantly, you took a long drag from the joint before passing it back to him. “Don’t worry, baby.” 

Eddie almost lost it at that.

Suck it, Steve. She called him baby, too, and now they were fucking even. 

“I’m having fun with everyone that douchebag hates.” You muttered with a smirk. 

Eddie desperately needed to make Billy hate him, maybe he could rip him off the next time he brought from him, or maybe he could just… sucker punch him? 

“Steve was fun.” You giggled, remembering the way he was so pathetically begging for you to stay. And you had to admit he was good, the best you had in this messed up town. 

Eddie blinked quickly, struggling to process what you just said… You.. and.. Steve?

“Steve?” He almost stammered, face growing hot at what you were implying, did that little asshole actually manage to be with you? You?!? 

“Steve Harrington?” He repeated.

“Yeah,” you hummed, brows scrunching at his dumbfounded expression… What was going on? Was he… jealous?

 “You jealous, Munson?” You giggled with a smirk, brow raised and all bold. So upfront that it has Eddie stammering and blushing all over again. 

“N-no, uh— Steve is my friend is all.” He adds, taking a long drag from the joint to keep himself together, he has to look all confident because he wants to impress you. 

He just doesn’t know that you being all flustered is what draws your attention. Confident but still cute. The exact mix you need for Steve’s arrogance. And they’re friends? Fuck, just the thought of them together has you rubbing your thighs. 

“Oh!” You hum, “That’s funny because I was actually going to go for you, but Steve found me first.” You know the effect that will have on Eddie, you see it in the way he coughs while exhaling the smoke, wetting his lips while he tries to play it cool. 

Sadly, it’s all interrupted by the one and only. Billy fucking Hargrove. 

His hand roughly makes you turn to him before you can comprehend what’s happening, “Fucking Harrington, really?” He spat in your face, nostrils flaring with how angry he was, but all it did was make you want to laugh in his face—the audacity of this little boy. 

Eddie’s quicker than you to react, trying to push him away from you but Billy shakes off his hold. “Get away from her.” Eddie spits. Billy ignores him with a scoff, attention all on you. 

You hate the way your stomach flutters at Eddie being protective, what the fuck are these boys doing to you?

“You kiss Tina in front of everyone, and me fucking Harrington is the problem?”

“You fucked him?” Billy lets out through gritted teeth, technically, you didn’t but it seemed like Billy only thought the two of you kissed. 

Before you could answer he clenched his fists, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.” 

Shit. You really didn’t think this through, did you? 

A guilty feeling settled into your stomach, Steve didn’t deserve that. And he definitely didn’t deserve to get beaten up because of you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed Billy by the arm to stop him from searching for Steve.

“D-don’t!” 

“Excuse me?” Billy said, pinching his brows together.

“Please don’t do anything to him.” Eddie watches everything unravel, taken aback by how willing you are to throw yourself under the bus for Steve. It makes his brows furrow and makes him almost get a glimpse of you, behind that cool facade, behind that whole act. It entices him more and more.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Billy scoffs, “You fuck him one time, and look how pathetic you get. No wonder everyone keeps calling you a slut—”

A loud thud resounds in your ears, you barely register what happened before you turn to see Steve shaking off his fist with a smirk on his face. “Don’t fucking call her that again.” 

Billy chuckles loudly at the impact, blood quickly dripping down his nose and an obvious red mark bruising his cheek. “My my, Harrington coming to defend his new little slut, huh?” 

And this time, another thud of a punch resonated from your side, and you audibly gasp. 

Eddie. 

These boys were going to be the death of you, appearing out of nowhere and then doing shit like this. 

They stood in front of you, arms crossed against their chest as they eyed Billy groaning on the ground, it wasn’t long before Tina came with her annoying shriek and a crowd formed around the four of you, the two boys were quick to drag you out of the party. 

“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you, sweetheart?” Steve muttered in your ear with his lips twitched into a smirk. 

Cocky bastard. 

You gave him a slight smile. “Actually… I was looking for this one,” you hummed sweetly, hand gently nudging Eddie’s shoulder. A grin sat on his lips, he itched to elbow Steve, who just gave him a roll of his eyes. 

“But, thank you, both.” You give them a shy smile, it’s meaningful, and you’re grateful to have them protect you. 

“Anything for our special girl,” Steve winks.

“Want us to take you home?” Eddie interrupts, eyeing you, he can see that you’re a bit shaken up, even though you try to hide it. 

“No need, boys. Can walk home!” You giggle with a wink. 

“We insist.” Steve steps up, leaning into the car, hips jutted out. All slutty, and it’s tempting. But, no. 

You had fucked up enough today and gotten your feelings too involved. You couldn’t do it. 

You gave both of them a sloppy kiss on their cheek before you got on your feet, “My house is just around the corner.” 

“See you around, boys.” You winked one last time, turning back before they could say anything, walking away with a strut as you could almost feel their gaze burn your back. 

Both boys watched you with their jaws almost open, teeth biting onto their bottom lips with hope. They wanted—needed you. 

。°。°。°。°。°

“I’m tellin’ you dude, it was fuckin’ unreal. She was just so good,” Steve hummed into the ice cream he took a stripe of lick from.

Eddie grunted. “Jesus, fuck. Still can’t believe she let you even near her.” He glared daggers into him.

Steve grumbled a chuckle, nudging him. “Jealous much, Munson?” His lips curled into a boyish grin, face inches away from Eddie who was now stammering.

“C’mon, we can share, can’t we big boy?” Steve winked, enjoying the crimson red coloring the curly boy’s puffy cheeks.

“Nothing we haven’t done before,” He hummed, sucking his cheeks with a ‘mmhmm’ sound as the flavors of the strawberry goodness flooded his senses.

They did have threesomes before, but this was different, this was you. It meant so much more to Eddie, and selfishly, he wanted you to himself first, too. 

“If you can even get her,” Steve smirked, knowing if it took him this long, Eddie would have to try for years.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Eddie winked with a new-found confidence

“I’ll turn on the Munson charm.” He snapped his fingers together with a wicked grin, “and she’ll be beggin’ for me in no time.” 

Steve couldn’t even keep the throaty chuckle for a second before he patted Eddie on the back. “Good fuckin’ luck with that.” 

You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but how could you not when they were right fucking in front of you?!

And after Steve said, they had done threesomes before, your mouth watered just at the thought of both boys towering over you, attending to your every need, trying to dominate you but also pathetically begging for more. 

And if you framed everything correctly, they’d want to fuck you and would think they were the ones in charge, not knowing you were the mastermind behind all of it.

“Hi, boys!” You waved with a giggle, rushing to their side as your skirt rode up your thigh, both boys turning their bodies fully to meet you. 

Both of their Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of you—a graphic baby tee showing just enough of your skin, paired with the most perfect skirt Steve has ever seen, and Eddie’s eyes were almost glued to your chest, enjoying the way your breasts jiggled as you walked. 

You couldn’t hide your smirk at their widened eyes, men were so easy. 

They both stammered, and you wished you weren’t enjoying this so fucking much. But, you were. You had to have both of them. 

Letting your tongue swirl around the cone in your hand, you looked up at Eddie. “What flavor is that?” 

“Chocolate,” He replied quickly, “I love chocolate!” You exclaimed, and Eddie grew weak in his knees, gulping and letting his cock strain himself against his zipper. God, he felt like a fucking pervert. 

“Do you wanna try some?” He barely managed to speak clearly and you nodded quickly with a grin, Steve watching it all with a huff. 

Without giving him a chance to do anything, you wrapped your palm around his, giggling while you let the cold silkiness coat your tongue, lapping at it while your focus remained on Eddie’s dark eyes. 

He almost groaned at the sight; you knew that was your cue. “Tastes so delicious, Eds.” You hummed with an exaggerated sound, reveling in the way Eddie blinked quickly to register all of it. 

“Wanna try mine?” Steve’s silky, cocky voice had your attention shifting, you raised a single brow, shrugging. 

“Already tried that, thanks,” Your voice carries a bit of coldness but is still alluring enough to have Steve crave more from you. 

“I don’t think you tried all of it, sweetheart,” His voice still held that cool tone, tongue sticking out to lick a stripe from the cone wrapped around his palm, almost giving you a flashback as rosy lips framed the words so lewd that you had to do something. 

You were quick to tilt your head sideways, leaning in just enough to have your velvety lips against his, Eddie watched in awe, enjoying the way you sucked on Steve’s tongue, letting the sweet strawberry flavor explode your taste buds as exaggerated sounds left your lips as you pulled away, leaving Steve with nothing. 

“Mhmm, you’re right, Stevie,” You hummed, Steve’s face wearing a shock you hadn’t seen before. “But I think mine, tastes so much better…” You cooed facing Eddie, “Wouldn’t you agree, pretty boy?” You directed it at Steve, relishing the dumbfounded look on his face, while Eddie watched all of it with a contented sigh. 

He needed both of you. 

You needed both of them. 

And Steve would do anything for you, and for Eddie, even if he never would explicitly show it. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, bringing a wicked smirk to your face. Easy. 

Before you turned to leave, you faced Eddie, “Oh!” 

“Do you have any free time this afternoon?” If you gave him those eyes and that sweet tone, he’d give you all of his time in the world. 

“Uh-huh, of course.” He's sure his voice sounds so squeaky but you smile at him so sweetly that it melts away all his worries.

“Okay, do you mind if I drop by? I need something to relax, and to let a little bit of my steam off…” You winked at him, you couldn’t be more obvious, and Eddie almost went limp at your words, no need for the Munson charm after all. 

“S-sure!” He exclaimed, mouth curling into a wide grin. 

“See you later, boys.”

。°。°。°。°。°

“Really?” Eddie eyed you with a raise of his brows, getting more and more comfortable the further both of you inhaled from the rolled joint, your knee brushed against his, and his worries ghosted away with it. 

“You think Michael Myers is hot?”

“Yeah!” You nodded, “Too weird for you, Munson?” you nudged him playfully.

“No, no! It’s just… how? He has a mask on,”

With a shrug, “The mask is the appeal,” you giggle. 

He scrunches his brows, confused. “The mystery of the mask is what makes him sexy.” You shrug, and a soft ‘oh!’ escapes his lips. 

He’s quick to ash the joint to the skull resin ashtray, getting up in a rush, causing you to furrow your brows, “what the hell are you doing?”

He turns with a grin, “getting a mask.” 

You giggle at that, “Oh, trust me, you don’t need a mask pretty boy.”

“W-what?” He blinks quickly to process all of it, bringing a wide smile to your lips as you almost drag him by the collar of his shirt. 

Eddie’s almost frozen, his mind explodes at how forward you’re being, pants getting tighter when he realizes how close you are to him. 

It’s finally happening and he can feel himself melt into you, he lets you stripe him of his control and his lips part slightly in surprise. 

Mind struggling to process if this is all real. With a giggle you take him by surprise when you tug your fingertips at his messy curls, twisting his head to the side as you crash your lips down to his. 

Dangerously sweet, addicting, and bold. And Eddie is putty in your hands.

“The prettiest lips,” you hum into his mouth. 

“Yeah?” He almost blushes a rosy color, and you can’t help but relish that feeling, letting it sink to your chest at how beautiful he looks when he’s so flushed, and you realize you need both of them. 

You need Steve’s cockiness, you need Eddie’s tentativeness at the same fucking time. 

And both of their dominance. 

You whimper needily, the feel and taste of his soft lips flood all over your body, making you ache. Holy shit, he’s fucking good. 

“F-fuck,” He whimpers as he pulls back, mind trying to register everything, but he’s quick to dive back in once he realizes he just stopped kissing you. 

A passionate, needy kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, as his hand roughly grabs your waist, pulling you further. You feel hot, skin buzzing at how demanding he is. 

Then he slowly moves from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over, and you can’t help but feel that warm slickness coating your thighs at how fucking needy he is for you. 

And you know exactly what you need to do to lure him in, entirely. 

“N-need you, Eds,” you whine into his lips, brows pinched together and Eddie’s already about to explode in his pants, you’re fucking perfect. 

“Where do you need me, angel?” He asks, all obedient and it has your core throbbing with need. 

Your thighs part slowly, skirt riding up more and more as you expose yourself to him, and Eddie’s teeth drag on his bottom lip at the sight. “Here,” nails rake on the surface of the couch beneath your legs, pussy fully on display. 

He almost groans at the sight, but no, he has to take control back again, he has to impress you. 

And he wants to savor this moment, enjoy you, fully. 

It gives him all the confidence he needs, with a slight push he has you on your back, sprawled on the couch, you’re surprised by the sudden change of control, but anticipation jumps in your insides, not knowing his next move is exciting and you let him enjoy it. 

His hands start to idly run everywhere on your body, all grabby and rough. You don’t know what to expect from him, and it certainly isn’t this, his hold on your hips, breasts, and thighs, enough to leave a mark, still gentle, still attentive but equally rough and it has you almost whining out. 

He’s perfect. 

“Needy baby,” He hums, planting a sloppy kiss on your neck. “What do you need… my fingers or my tongue?” 

You shamelessly spread your legs further, enjoying his weight on top of you, hard bulge pressing against your thigh, but you need more. “Both.” 

And your whiny answer is all he needs, his rough hands travel down to your inner thighs, almost toying as he drags his mouth all over you. Nibbling and biting all over your neck, shoulder, breasts, everywhere. 

He’s quick to drop down between your legs, and he groans at the sight of your puffy lips and dampened thighs, “Jesus Christ…” His teeth draw on his bottom lip.

“No panties?” 

“Nuh-uh,” you giggle shamelessly, and he’s almost fucking gone. The fabric of his pants so painfully harsh against his erected cock that he hisses. 

Your legs quiver when he traces a finger around your opening teasingly and his mouth is pressing kisses down your inner thigh, sloppy and filthy. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he hums into you. 

Your little whimpers and the sight of you so relaxed make Eddie a madman, he understands Steve’s non-stop blabbing about you the last few days, granted, he always knew you were perfect. 

But once he gets a taste of this, and a sight of you like this, he knows he can’t fucking quit, ever. 

“More.” You hiss out a breath as his fingertips gently circle your clit. It’s demanding, and Eddie’s amber gaze is dark as it meets yours. “Behave,” He warns, it’s electrifying, making you want to disobey more than anything, everything about him draws you in. 

With a smirk, you run your hand down his arms, meeting his fingertips with a gaze so dangerously lewd that Eddie’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head. “But I’m aching… I need so much more.” 

He groans, loudly. “So fucking needy, aren’t you? Only for me, huh?” 

He wants reassurance, he wants you to tell him he’s better than Steve. And you don’t, because you need both of them, so you just tease him enough, just so both of them could get the idea of proving themselves to you. 

You could just imagine them both taking turns, trying to prove to you which one would make you cum more, complementing each other, striping you out of your control, just for that one second, not knowing that you planned all of it.

It’s sick, a bit deranged, and stupid. But exactly what you need.

“Mhmm, only for you, baby.” 

Endearing words have him quick to push two fingers inside of you, still agonizingly slow, withdrawing a breath when he feels your slick walls. 

His fingers slowly go in and out of you, the suspenseful score from the movie almost mirrors your heartbeat, rising each time he gives you a grin, basking in your whines. 

“Look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he praises, enjoying how your lips part slightly, pretty whines coming out of it. He circles your clit at a slow pace, still. Relishing in the way his name slips past your mouth so desperately, almost begging. 

He presses a light kiss to your clit, and you shudder at the impact, gazing down at him, “You like the way I look between your pretty thighs?” He hums into your walls. 

“Yes,” You coo, and he doesn’t hesitate to dive in, parting your cunt with his thumb before his tongue is teasingly lapping up at you. 

It’s all so filthy and intimate that you immediately squeeze your eyes shut, his fingers, his tongue, it’s all too much but at the same time not enough. 

You need him, you need more from him. It’s just not enough. 

“Makin’ prettiest noises for me, such a good girl, aren’t ya?” You hum excitedly, all fucked out as you grind yourself on his mouth, you don’t know what it is, but you can’t help yourself, fingertips latched onto his curls, head thrown back, you feel like screaming. 

And he’s torturously slow, giving you everything you need but not fully everything, withdrawing just a little to have you go crazy. And it’s fucking working, his tongue works wonders inside of your walls, his name falling like a prayer from your lips. 

Not fucking enough. And it’s frustrating, to feel so on edge. 

You shouldn’t do this, you shouldn’t beg for more, but you can’t help it, it’s all hazy and you want more, it’s like you’ve been deprived, and he feels so fucking good. 

And maybe, you letting Eddie fuck you could drive Steve further, you could just imagine the scorched face on Steve’s look when he found out, and you want that mean side of him. You want him to compete for your attention, you want him to stripe you out of your control, for once in your fucking life.

You try to drag at his curls to feel his tongue more and more, flicking at your clit agonizingly slow but he slaps your hand away, warning you with his dark gaze. 

“I need more,” you pout, looking down at him all doe-eyed. 

“Need you to fuck me,” you whine with a hidden smirk, Eddie’s eyes flashing a hunger that has you all excited in your tummy.  

“Needy little slut,” he murmurs in your ear. “Steve wasn’t enough for you?” You love the newfound confidence in him, the sudden change in his tone, the darker his eyes get, the way he cooes has you dripping with need. 

You shake your head with a giggle, “Steve didn’t fuck me.” 

“What?” That brings an unintentional grin to his lips. You didn’t let Steve fuck you but you were going to let Eddie fuck you? Oh, he could just cum in his pants right then and there. 

You? Begging to be fucked by him? He was in heaven, and you were the prettiest angel. 

“No wonder, he can’t fucking shut up about you,” 

So your plan was working. 

“I don’t blame him, angel. I wouldn’t be able to quit you right after I tasted you either, so fucking perfect, hmm?” He gives you a dazzlingly addicting kiss, lips tasting like you and you hum into it. 

You try to pull him closer by his shirt, but he doesn’t let you, making you pout innocently at him. “I need you.” You don’t know how he has you like this, and you try to make your brain believe that this was your plan, but you wholeheartedly want this, you want him to fuck your brains out. You want him to make you cum until you physically can’t anymore. 

A possessive look sits on his face, gaze all dangerous and it has you wanting more, “You have me.” A wicked grin overturns on his lips, he’s quick to get rid of his clothes, almost ripping open your blouse. Fingertips brush over your skin with such passion that it almost burns.

He groans at the sight of your breasts, hands itching to grab them, mouth watering at the sight. “So.” A kiss on your breasts, “fucking”, a nibble, “perfect.” His hands grabbed everywhere, mind reveling in everything.

Still struggling to realize if this was all real or not. He was hooked, so fucking hooked. 

He couldn’t blame Steve for not shutting up about you, you were addicting. He was right, maybe the two of you could share. He wouldn’t be opposed to it at all, if there was one thing the three of you were good at, it was this. 

“That stays on.” He hums against your chest, fingers sliding over the tight little skirt you were wearing, flipping it over to your stomach but not taking it off.  

You were whining like a bitch in heat now, eagerly watching him take off his cock from his already wet boxers, patches of pre-cum had formed on it and you couldn’t help the delicious smirk on your face. 

With a painful groan, his cock slipped past his boxers, and your eyes widened at the sight. 

Salmon pink tip pearled with his pre-cum, looking so delicious that your mouth involuntarily opened at it, he was almost as big as Steve, only thicker, and slightly more curved to the left, perfect, just fucking perfect. 

You understood his cockiness when it came to this, he was absolutely packing and by the way he had been acting, you could tell he knew how to fucking use it. 

He leaned back slightly, still positioned between your thighs before he took his cock in his hand, with a dangerous gaze, he jerked at it, letting out a small groan with a sly smirk. 

You could feel your thighs dampening when he circled the angry tip over your clit. “That feels good, doesn’t it, angel?” Mocking, cruel, teasing. And you loved every fucking second of it. 

“Y-yeah,” You murmur, eyes squeezed shut, your thighs are almost shaking and he’s watching you with a smirk, it’s all too sensitive and everything he does gives you an electrifying pleasure that you haven’t felt before. 

Shutting up all the avoidant voices in your head that tell you you shouldn’t be doing this. Your thoughts and your body is consumed by pleasure as you hazily look down, his hand still on his cock while he drags it down through your folds. The tip of his pink slit parts you slightly, enjoying the way you’re gushing for him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ… look at this cunt… just soaked for me,” he growls and lines his throbbing cock at your entrance, a loud needy moan escapes your lips, making him gloat.

“Look at how greedy your pussy is, angel… practically pulling me in.” He teases, cock still dragging along your folds, and you are about to embarrassingly beg, before he finally drives his cock the rest of the way into your aching cunt, “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” He groans loudly, his moans deliciously lewd. And your whines are mixed with his. 

His hands are everywhere, rough, and grabby, almost like they are marking you. His hips thrust further into you fucking all of your worries away. 

“Look how well you’re takin’ me, doll.” He hums, eagerly watching the way his cock disappears in and out of your soppy walls, mouth hanging open as curses slip past it at each of his movements. 

“Eddie…” You whimper, you can’t focus, you can’t even fucking think. Your brain is short-circuiting by how good everything he feels, how he is hitting that one spot and is stretching you wider and wider, and you are doing everything you can to adjust to his size. 

“What d’ya need, baby?” He coos mockingly.

He’s so much more cocky now, and he has earned it because he’s that good and you’re awfully pathetic for him. 

You want to speak, but it’s almost as if you’re unable to, it’s frustrating, and Eddie is loving every second of it. 

“Awww, so cock drunk that you can’t even speak, princess?” Another harsh thrust has you whining and squirming. 

“You need more, baby? Need me deeper inside of this tight little cunt?” He hums, cock slamming inside of you so agonizingly slow that it has you moaning for more, you’re simply fucked out and he’s too far gone. 

“Need me to stretch it out with my big cock?” You nod so quickly that your head almost falls off, and Eddie’s chuckle reverberates loudly, echoing in the room with your whimpers. 

“Greedy little slut.” He picks up his pace, and you’re fully lost in desire now, clinging to him as each of his thrusts pushes you closer and closer, he’s filling you to the brim and it nearly has you sobbing beneath him. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Fuckin’ soaked for me and this tight cunt was just made for my cock, wasn’t it?” He growls against your neck, licking a path from your collarbone to the shell of your ear, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

Your eyes are squeezed shut, head thrown back in full euphoria while he thrusts in and out of you, setting a hard, brutal pace. Teeth sucking into your shoulder to slow himself down, to stop the release he can feel building.

Incoherent babbles are all that leave your lips, you can feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach, “Y-yes, yes!” You whine, “I’m close, baby.” You lift your hips, trying to grind it against his cock to get more friction. 

It’s all filthy and desperate and it has Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re so fucking perfect for him and you stick to his mind. 

This image of you, begging, his name falling from your swollen lips, all fucked out and spread for him. It’s doing the best fucking damage to his mind and he can’t get enough of you. 

“You gonna cum for me, honey? Wanna soak my cock?” His words are so lewd and it has you nodding like an idiot, you want him to cum with you, you need to feel him inside of you. Filling every fucking inch of you. 

He can feel your pussy clamping around him, it’s all glorious and he wants nothing more than to engrave this image of you to his brain. He wants Steve to know, how you were mewling for him. “Cum for me, angel.” He praises, slamming inside of you deeper than before, thrusts getting sloppier the more he sees how close you are. 

He wants nothing more than to last, but your whimpers, the way you take him in, your mouth hanging open, it’s all fucking too much, and he knows if you give him one more whine or one more filthy talk he’s going to explode. 

You writhe under him, so painfully good, but fucking impossible to hold yourself back once his thumb circles around your clit.

“W-want you to cum, too. Need to feel you i-inside.” You encourage him, and he groans at the idea of cumming together with you, balls drawing up and ready to fill your insides. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby,” He growls, slamming into you once, twice, thrice. “If you say shit like that I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck, baby!” He can feel his cock filling you to the brim, hitting that sensitive spot one last fucking time and you know it’s over.

“Cum for me, pretty boy.” You cry out as you orgasm, pleasure shooting through your already hazy mind, and that’s all the encouragement Eddie needs before he chases his own release. 

He pounds into you one final time, deeper and harder, in a frenzy with how badly he needs to cum inside of you. With a few ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s, and ‘so f-fucking perfect’s he growls your name as he fills you up. Not slipping out until he’s sure you’re filled full of him. 

He collapses next to you with a sigh of breath, a sloppy kiss on your shoulder as he’s trying to register what the fuck just happened. 

You don’t give him a minute to breathe when you quickly get up, collecting your blouse as you ignore the confused look on his face. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Getting ready?” You answer with a giggle. 

“What for?” 

“To leave, pretty boy.”

“B-but we just-” 

He sounded so adorable, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall into a mess of feelings, and yet without knowing, you were already walking right into it. 

“I’m going to this thing at The Hideout today.” You murmured while fixing your skirt and hair in the mirror. Skirt creased and hair all chaotic. You thought you looked a fucking mess, but Eddie would argue that's the prettiest you looked.

Ruined by him.

“There’s this band—”

“Corroded Coffin?” Eddie replied quickly. 

“How did you know?” You turned with a raised brow, intrigued. 

“You’re looking at their lead singer, sweetheart.” He replied smugly, a grin sitting on his plump lips. 

“Oh my god!” You said in a mock screeching voice, “Can I please get your autograph, Mr. Rockstar?” You batted your eyelashes with a twirl of your hair, giggling when he narrowed his gaze at you. 

“You’re lucky, you’re so pretty, huh?” You shouldn’t have felt your cheeks heat at the comment because he just fucked your brains out, but shit was he smooth. Making you blush with one fucking compliment. You were way too deep into this, weren’t you?

“So you listened to our stuff?” He asked, with a beaming smile on his face, too cocky. And it killed you to tell him you didn’t when he had the most adorable look on his face. 

“No, but, this might be a great first listening experience.” You hummed, “So make sure you don’t suck, Mr. Rockstar.” Your hand turned the doorknob when you threw him a wink. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will rock your fuckin’ world," He returned the wink. “Again.” He said with a smug smile and a cool tone. 

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, “Oh, and make sure to invite Steve too.” You hummed nonchalantly as Eddie nodded, almost obediently.

He would do anything you asked him to. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted to go, because it was never any good to fuck the same guy twice, especially with someone like Steve who just slept around, or someone like Eddie who wore his heart on his sleeve. It would either end with your heart broken or theirs. Things always got too messy.

But both of them were just so… good. And you had this opportunity to have both of them.

How were you supposed to hold yourself back? 

。°。°。°。°。°

“No fucking way.” Steve said exasperatedly, shaking his head and denying what Eddie told him for the hundredth time. 

Eddie groaned, growing frustrated, “Yes fucking way, dude, ask her!” 

“Ask her what, whether you fucked her or not?” Steve narrowed his gaze when he turned to him, words laced with bitterness, if Eddie didn't know him better he'd say Steve was jealous. 

And he was.

“Yeah, because I did, and she fucking loved it.” 

“Bullshit.” Steve spat, his face still wearing a shocked look that had Eddie grinning. 

His mind was almost spiraling, that insecurity he felt years ago almost returning and the image was quick to shatter. Why didn’t you want him? Why did you want Eddie? 

“C’mon, Stevie,” He elbowed Steve playfully, enjoying this. Steve gloated for days about you, for days. And now he had something bigger to tease him with.

Because you, who rejected every idiotic boy in this town, who even rejected 'King Steve' begged for Eddie. And he couldn't help but bask in that, especially to annoy Steve further. “Don’t be jealous, I thought you said we could share.” Eddie grinned like an idiot, brushing his shoulder against his teasingly.

And it was getting to Steve, the idea that you didn’t want him. Like you could see right through his King Steve bullshit. “Fuck you, man.” 

“So, what? You can have her, but I can’t?” He said with a little bitterness spilling out, eyeing Steve. 

“No, dude, just—” Steve sighed, “I can’t fucking get my mind off of her.” He mumbled, almost embarrassed.

“Neither can I!”

“So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Desperate, pathetic, and horny. Ironically, that’s how you were feeling too, without knowing that’s exactly what the boys were feeling too. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered.” Steve looked at Eddie with a narrowed gaze.

“She’s coming to the show tonight,” Eddie hummed excitedly, “and she asked me to invite you too.”

Holy shit. That brought a saccharine smile on Steve’s face, it was stupid, to be so excited over something like this. But that meant you did want him. Stirring his stomach in the best and worst way possible, he wanted to shake it off, but he fucking couldn’t.

Jesus fucking Christ. What were you doing to him?

“Dude, do you realize what that means?” 

“What?” Eddie inquired. 

“Oh my sweet, sweet, Munson…” Steve tssked, “She wants both of us.”

“Oh, shit.” The realization was slow to hit Eddie, his mind still replaying what happened with you over and over again. “Wait you— uh, you’re okay with that?” Eddie asked, almost nervous. 

“Yeah, dude, why wouldn’t I be?” Steve shrugged carelessly, it wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but Eddie still felt nervous, because this time it did feel different, with both of you. 

“Besides we can’t keep our girl depraved now, can we?” 

[scoonsalicious]

Like A Fairy Tale

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true.

Warnings: Language to make Steve blush, mentions of alcohol use, implied sex, angst with a happy ending.

Word Count: 3.4k This is my very first posted fic, and I am very nervous but I hope you like it! If I've missed any warnings, please tell me so I can add them. Much love and thanks to my bestie @jmeelee for indulging my obsession and dropping everything to read this when I sent it to her <3 Please pardon any spelling/grammar errors.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3 I write for 18+, so minors DNI. _____________________________________________________________

Once upon a time, being Bucky Barnes’ girl had felt like living in a fairy tale. He was everything your younger self had ever dared to dream of in a Prince Charming– attentive, affectionate, kind, and oh, how he made you laugh! You were the envy of all of your friends, the very definition of #couplegoals, and you thanked your lucky stars every night that the two of you had found one another, despite all the odds.

But fairy tales aren’t real. 

You weren’t sure exactly when it started, but somewhere in the third year of your relationship, after you’d moved into a handsome brownstone in Brooklyn together, after you’d adopted a fluffy white kitten, Bucky started pulling away from you. The steps that took him from you were small at first– he was taking on more and more missions, opting to stay gone for longer periods of time. Days would go by, and they’d turn into weeks, then a month or two at a time would go by where you wouldn’t see him. 

At first, it hadn’t been terrible– Bucky had always made sure to contact you each and every day. A video call whenever he could, a phone call or text when he couldn’t, but slowly, so slowly you barely noticed, the calls stopped coming all together. Sure, he’d answer when you called him… when he could, which wasn’t always possible on a mission, and you hated acting needy and taking him away from his work, so eventually, you stopped reaching out, too. 

When he was home, you were like ships passing in the night. You always offered to take time off of work so you could spend some time with him before he was set to head out again, but he never wanted you to jeopardize your career on his account. Your reunions would always be passionate, but short-lived, a few hot and heavy nights before he took off once more to save the world. 

You tried not to let it bother you. You really, really did. His job was so important. People’s lives relied on him. Where did you get off getting upset over that? So, you kept it to yourself. Until you couldn’t. Not any more.

“Y/N,” your best friend, Lainy, cornered you at her annual New Year’s Eve party, “where’s Barnes? He’s been leaving you to go solo for months now. I don’t think I’ve seen you with him since Mark’s St. Patrick’s Day Party.”

Ouch. “He’s working, Lainy,” you told her, not wanting to admit that March had been the last time the two of you had gone out together, let alone spent more than three days in a row in each other’s company. 

“Yeah, he was ‘working’ over the Memorial Day trip, and the 4th of July BBQ, and Jack and Alice’s wedding, and your aunt’s funeral.” You cringed internally as she applied air quotes to ‘working.’ “And he was ‘working’ on your birthday, and Christmas. Babe, he’s been leaving you alone for almost an entire year. What’s going on? Are you sure there isn’t someone else?”

The worst part was, you knew there wasn’t, or at least, no one individual. When he’d first started distancing himself, of course another woman was the first thing that came to your mind, and you weren’t proud of yourself, but you’d gone through his phone to search for evidence of an affair… multiple times, and repeatedly came up with nothing. And bless Bucky’s heart, but he didn’t have the technological know-how to hide an infidelity from you. Granted, that didn’t negate the possibility that he was randomly hooking up with people while he was away. You’d have to be stupid to not consider the possibility.

You could have asked Steve. You didn’t think Captain America had it in him to lie to you about something like that, but you didn’t want him reporting on your suspicions back to Bucky, nor did you think you could stand to see the look of pity in his eye if he had to tell you that yes, Bucky was cheating on you while you anxiously awaited his return every night. So, you kept the suspicions to yourself. 

Your conversation with Lainy had left you deflated. Here it was New Year’s Eve, and you were alone, the man you loved god knew where– just not with you. How many more holidays and milestones and everyday nights were you going to spend by yourself, waiting for a man who never seemed to want to be home with you anymore? This wasn’t the kind of life you wanted, the kind of life you deserved. 

You made your way to the kitchen to refill your glass of wine. You’d probably already had too many, but you needed to drown the despair that was slowly filling you up. As you poured an exceptionally generous glass, a man entered the kitchen. You recognized him– Harris, a cousin of Lainy’s who had flirted with you relentlessly for years before you had started seeing Bucky. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up upon seeing you, “it’s been awhile.” He enveloped you in a friendly hug. “How’ve you been?”

You smiled and exchanged pleasantries, catching up on the overall brushstrokes of your life. 

“I’m sorry about your breakup,” he offered gently, after you’d exhausted the usual small talk.

“My breakup?” you asked, brow piqued.

“Last few events I’ve seen you at, you’ve been alone. I assumed you and Barnes…” he left the thought floating, the implication hanging in the air: Barnes has left you alone, I assumed you broke up.

You huffed out a laugh. God. Was your relationship actually over and you were the only one dumb enough to not see it? 

“If you aren’t seeing anyone,” Harris continued, “I would really love to take you out. You’ve gotta know I’ve been into you for ages, and I figure if I don’t shoot my shot now, who knows when I’ll have another chance.”

You cocked your head and looked at him, taking in his earnest demeanor. Here was a man who genuinely wanted to spend time with you. Why were you waiting on someone who no longer wanted to be around?

“Um, I might have to get back to you on that, Harris,” you told him before excusing yourself. You needed air. 

You found yourself on Lainy’s balcony, the air deceptively mild for the end of December in Manhattan. Alone with your thoughts, you pulled out your phone and dialed Bucky’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

“Someone asked me out on a date tonight,” you said into the recording, your voice choked with tears you didn’t want to shed. “And I think I might say yes, because, honestly Buck, what are we even doing anymore? You’re never here, and I’m always alone. I tried. I tried so fucking hard to not let it get to me, because your work’s important. I know that. I do, and I’m not begrudging you for your job. But… but I can’t keep on like this. I can’t even remember the last time we spent more than three days together. Isn’t that crazy? Three days. Everyone thinks you’re cheating on me. Did you know that? You’re away so much that everyone I know is convinced you’re fucking someone else. Maybe you are, or maybe you already left me, but I’ve been too stupid to notice; if that’s the case, you could have just told me.” 

You kept your composure as you left the message. You weren’t angry at him; you never could be. You were just tired. So tired, and so lonely. 

“All I know is that it’s another night where I’m all by myself, wishing you were here, wanting to talk to you, to feel you, and you’re just… not. You’re off doing something, or someone, more important than me, and I used to be okay with that, but I can’t be anymore. I deserve more than waiting on you, Buck. I deserve to be someone’s priority. I really wish I could have been yours, the way you were mine. 

“So, let’s just call it, okay? Your heart’s obviously not in it anymore, and mine is too tired of being hurt and alone. We’ll have to figure out what to do about the house. I’m keeping Alpine, though. You haven’t been here for her, either, and it wouldn’t be fair of you to take her if you’re never going to be around.”

Inside, you could hear the rest of the party as they counted down to midnight. When they reached zero, the night erupted in fireworks, and you could hear cheers and cars honking their horns throughout the city below you.

“Huh,” you said into your phone, “it’s midnight. Happy New Year, Buck. I hope it ends up being a good one for you, and I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you decide you didn’t want to spend this last one with me.”

You hung up the phone and the tears finally fell as you slid down the balcony railing until you were crouched on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you sat there crying, but eventually Lainy found you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and ushering you into her spare room. She helped you change out of your cocktail dress and into a spare pair of pajamas, and helped you wash your face before tucking you into bed. She left you with a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead, promising that tomorrow would be better, that the next best chapter of your life was about to begin, but as you drifted into a fitful sleep, you couldn’t find the will to believe her.

You woke the next morning with a throbbing headache, the alcohol and the tears doing nothing but dehydrating you into agony. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but the battery had died in the night. From the slant of the sun coming in from the guest room window, it looked to be late morning or early afternoon. 

You changed back into your dress, thanking Lainy for her help and making a small joke about doing the walk of shame in your clothes from the night before. You avoided her questions about what had happened, promising to go over it at length at the weekend after you’d had some time to process. You weren’t in the best headspace to get into at the moment.

Fortunately, your best friend knew you well enough not to pry, and you said your goodbyes, plans for brunch on Sunday having been made. You weren’t eager to get back home, to be surrounded by reminders of Bucky, when all you wanted was the man, himself. But he was your ex-boyfriend now, you supposed. You were going to have to come to terms with that sooner than later. Besides, Alpine needed to be fed, and you weren’t going to abandon her.

Your keys clicked in the lock as you opened your front door. “Al, baby,” you called, kicking off your heels and closing the door behind you, “Mommy’s home. You hungry, sweetie?”

You began making your way back toward the kitchen when a loud crash from upstairs got your attention. You rolled your eyes; what had the cat knocked over now? 

But then there was the roar of a body barreling down the upstairs hall and toward the stairs, leaving you frozen where you stood. You cast a glance to where you’d left your phone in your purse by the door. Too far away to reach in time to call for help as the intruder came pounding down the stairs. 

A massive figure rounded the corner, nearly knocking you over.

“Bucky?” You blinked, sure your eyes were playing tricks on you, but no– there he stood, and he looked like shit. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and his eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. He’d obviously been wearing the same clothing for at least a day, if not more.

“Y/N,” he breathed, throwing his arms around you and wrapping you in an almost bone-crushing embrace. “Sweetheart, I was so worried.”

“What are you doing here, Buck?” you asked him, pulling away from him. God, you wanted to let him hold you, but you just couldn’t. Not anymore.

Bucky cupped your face in his hands, blue eyes desperately searching yours. “I got your message. Doll, it fucking broke my heart. I came straight home, but you weren’t here, and I was terrified that you were gone; that you’d left me for good.”

You scoffed. “I’m not the one who leaves, Bucky.”

He flinched at your words. “I know, Baby. I know, and ’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shoulda known what leavin’ you so much was doin’ to you, ‘cause it was doin’ it to me, too. When I heard you say that people– that you– thought I was cheating on you, that I had neglected you so much you thought I found someone else, that I could ever love anyone else, ever want anyone else– I’ve never hated myself more, doll. I can’t stand that you even had those thoughts in your head for one second, because it’s always been you. There’s never been anyone else. You’re it.”

“Then why have you been gone?” you asked him in a whisper. “If there’s no one else, and I’m it, why don’t you ever want to be with me? Why do you keep leaving?” 

Bucky ran both his hands along his face. “God, it feels so stupid now,” he said with a sigh. “But I was trying to save–”

“Trying to save the world, yeah, I know,” you interrupted him, annoyed. “Trust me, I’m well aware that I can’t compete with that. But I needed to know you thought we were worth saving, too, and you never did.”

Bucky started laughing then, and you scoffed. “Wow, you don’t have to rub it in, Bucky.”

“No, no– Sweetheart, no!” he shook his head. “That’s not it, at all. Hold on.” He went to the foyer and grabbed his go-bag; you had missed it when you walked in. Coming back to the kitchen, he put it on the table, opening it up and extracting a folded piece of paper and handing it to you.

It was a real estate listing for a farmhouse Upstate, with acreage on the Hudson. You and Bucky had talked about what kind of house you would buy if the situation had ever presented itself, and it was almost as if you’d dreamed it up.

You looked from the paper back to Bucky. “I don’t understand,” you told him.

“It needs pretty extensive renovations,” he told you. “I wanted to take on enough overtime to have the money for them and make a good dent on the mortgage, but it needed more work than I originally thought. And, I have to come clean– I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with you about where I’ve been spending all my time.” He looked up at you through his lashes, head bent down in shame.

“But… but, you said there wasn’t anyone else,” you stammered, heart ready to beat out of your chest. 

“Oh god! No, and I mean that! There isn’t, I swear! God, I’ve fucked this up so bad!” Bucky tugged at his hair in frustration. “I’ve been going on extra missions, but sometimes, Sam, Steve, and I go Upstate to do some work on the house, to cut down the costs so I could still make my timeline.”

“You already bought it?” you asked, your voice flat. You were in shock. “You want to move out? Away from me?”

Bucky moaned in distress and drew you to him again. “No! God, I’m doing this all wrong. I want us to move there, together. To make it the perfect house. The perfect home for me, my wife and our stupid fur baby.”

You stilled at his words. “I’m sorry, your what?”

Bucky smiled at you sheepishly as he reached back into his go-bag. “I’ll have you know that I had an entire plan. Was gonna have the house ready by Valentine’s Day. Take you up there as a surprise, ask you properly, but I fucked that up, so…” He brought his hand back out, holding a small burgundy velvet box. He opened it to reveal a vintage engagement ring, a sapphire instead of a diamond. Your favorite stone.

Bucky got down on one knee. “Y/N,” he began as his voice choked up a bit with emotion, “I know I fucked up for the last eight months. I would completely understand if you can’t forgive me, but I need you to know that I love you. I have only ever loved you, and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making up for the fact that, even for a moment, I let you think that you weren’t the most important thing in my life, my number one priority. Will you marry me?”

“Buck…” you began, not sure how to phrase what you were about to say. “What about your job? I can’t keep coming in second to the rest of the world, and I get that it’s selfish of me, but–”

“I quit,” he said simply.

“What?” Your eyes were wide with shock at his statement. 

“The second I heard your voicemail, where you said you wanted to call it because I was never there, I told Steve I was done, that I needed to start putting you first. It wasn’t even a question. I’m officially retired.”

Your mouth hung open. You had hoped he would cut down on his missions, but for him to have quit completely… You gently tugged him to his feet, taking the ring box and running a finger across it.

“It’s lovely,” you told him softly. “Absolutely perfect; exactly what I would have picked for myself.” Bucky beamed at you, pleased. “But I can’t accept it.” His face fell as you gently placed the ring back in his hands. 

“Oh,” he whispered, eyes growing glassy. “I… um, I understand. I fucked up, hurt you. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

“I still want to be with you, you idiot,” you admonished him. “But you did hurt me, and we’ve been apart for a long time. We need time to find our way back to each other again, okay? Ask me again on Valentine’s Day, just like you originally planned. Don’t do it now just because you fucked up.” You leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him. “And if it helps make you feel better, I’m probably going to say ‘yes,’ anyway.”

Bucky grinned at you. “Really?” he asked. When you nodded, he picked you up and spun you in  a circle before pressing his lips to yours as if he hadn’t touched you in months. “I promise you, Sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to make this up to you, I swear it.”

“Anything?” you asked with a smile. “I think I know where you can start.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked you. “And where’s that?”

“Take me to bed, Bucky Barnes,” you said, kissing him again.

Without a word, Bucky swung you over his shoulder and ran with you up the stairs, your squeals and giggles echoing behind him.

Much, much later, when you lay sated together tangled in limbs and sheets with Alpine snuggled next to your heads, Bucky played with your fingers as you rested your head on his bare chest.

“So, Doll,” he said, kissing the pads of each of your fingers, “you gonna tell me who had the nerve to ask my girl out on a date?” 

You laughed. “Lainy’s cousin, Harris. I suppose I’ll have to text him now and tell him I’m not interested.”

“Hell no, you’re not interested,” Bucky chuffed. “Gonna have to remind that punk you’ve already got a boyfriend. The position has been filled.”

“That’s the thing, though,” you said, planting a kiss on his nose. “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, do I?”

Bucky’s face fell. “But I thought you said–”

“I’ve got myself a fiance.”

Bucky tightened his grip around you, drawing you even closer to his warmth. “Yeah, okay. I gotta admit I like the sound of that a lot better.”

Your entire relationship with Bucky Barnes might not have played out like a fairy tale, but in that moment, you were more sure than ever that you two would get your happily ever after.

[stevenose]

simply giving stressed out steve a handjob.

contains: gender unspecified reader; reader with a vagina; handjobs; very slight feminization; needy steve

“stevie?”

steve doesn’t answer, just huffs. there’s a stack of job applications in front of him. he’s been filling them out all day, and you know he’s exhausted. needs a break before he cracks.

you walk behind him, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder. he still sits rigidly in his chair, writing his name on another form. “how many you got left?”

steve sighs. he’s been sighing all day. “five.”

“how many have you filled out?”

“eight.”

you frown. “come on, steve. take a break.”

another sigh. “i can’t. need to get these done by tomorrow.”

“you seem a little stressed.”

“i am.” he sounds a little agitated. “i am stressed, but —“ he rubs at his eyes, frowning. “i can’t keep having you buy the groceries.”

“i like buying the groceries. you always buy gross stuff.”

the corners of steve’s mouth quirk up. “i know you hate plain cheerios.”

“hate them.” you kiss his neck, noticing the way steve relaxes. “know what else i hate?”

“hm?”

“seeing you all tense,” you whisper, lips pressed against his ear. “i can help with that.”

another sigh. “honey, i have to finish these.”

“you can keep doing them,” you murmur, kissing down his neck again. “i’ll work while you work.”

“like that’ll work,” steve mumbles, but he makes no protests when you reach down to palm at his cock through his sweatpants. he just sighs, still writing, but certainly slower. reaching around his chest, you can feel his heartbeat, picking up in pace.

“can’t think with this thing hanging between your legs, huh?” you giggle. it’s a joke, awkwardly worded, but steve still lets out a tiny whine.

“oh, steve,” you sigh, reaching under the waistband, listening to his breath hitch. “i’m staring to think all you care about is cumming.”

“not… true,” he breathes. his pen has stilled in his hand.

“why isn’t that your job? huh?” you pull his cock out. it’s so heavy and velvety and hot in your palm. he’s hardening fast, especially as your wrist begins to slowly flick. “stay at home and be my personal toy. let me ride this pretty cock —“ you emphasize your words with a swipe along his tip, spreading the precum gathering there, “and milk it with my pussy. doesn’t that sound nice?”

his applications are abandoned. steve groans, head falling back. you move your hand to your lips, spitting on your palm before moving it back down to his shaft. “you want that, steve?” you whisper. “be my pretty housewife?”

“stop,” he blushes. but his cock throbs.

you hum, kissing his jawline now, feeling it flex under you. steve starts panting, gentle little puffs pushing past his parted lips. your free hand rests on his neck, gently applying some pressure. his tummy flexes, toes curling.

“feels so good,” he moans. one big hand reaches for yours, wrapping it up in his while you work on him. “so good.”

you smile. you’re sure to move slow, working for your reward. and you know it’s coming soon, with the whiny noises he’s making, the way his cheeks turn red and his chest heaves. you remove your hand from his neck and tuck your fingers under his shirt to run your fingernails on the coarse hair on his chest.

“you’re so pretty, honey,” you coo. “so pretty, you shouldn’t have to work.”

“shit!” he sounds so pathetic. “i wanna - ah! - wanna be yours….”

“you are mine, stevie. see?” you nod towards his cock. “just letting me use you. my little slut.”

“jesus,” he groans, suddenly reaching towards his applications. “gonna - oh -!” and he pushes them away, as far down the table as he can, breathing heavily. then his hands are gripping your arms, his eyes rolling back, his hips bucking.

“cum for me,” you whisper, and he does. heaving and moaning, burying his face in the crook of your arm.

[andvys]

Dancing with ours hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty three ⭐︎ And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink? fluff, lots and lots of fluff!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Your first date night leads to another confession.

Word count: 12k+

Author's note: the whole date was all sweet Roe's idea, give her big creative mind a kiss, and give her some love too cause she's always helping me with this amazing story ♡ thank you @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

You’re met with complete silence when you wake from your sleep – no rain, no thunder, no howling wind and no flashing lights greet you this morning. Sunlight peeks through Steve’s drawn curtains, the golden color kissing his skin, letting it appear even softer. 

You blink the tiredness away and shift in his arms, prompting him to pull you even closer, for a moment you think he is already awake but his calm breathing and his closed eyes indicate that he is still sound asleep. His arms are wrapped around you, all night they have stayed there, his hands on your back, legs tangled with yours beneath the thin sheets and your head in the crook of his neck. You needed to feel one another, you needed to be close and you are certain that even if you moved in your sleep, you didn’t let go of each other. 

You rest your palm on his chest, over his beating heart and lay your chin on the top of your hand. You raise your other hand up towards his face, caressing his cheek, grazing his skin with the tips of your fingers, you admire the pretty man before you as you push his hair out of his face. 

Memories of the previous night start rushing in, making your heart beat faster.

No one could have prepared you for his confession, for the feelings he harbored for you, for the love he felt for a while now. You hoped there was something and yet it shook you to your core when he blessed you with those three words and told you of the future he pictured you in by his side, the little infatuation he had with you even when he never wanted to admit it to himself. 

Your eyes burn with tears of happiness, you think of the girl you once were, before the upside down, before Billy’s death, when all you did was admire the man who holds you in his arms now, refusing to let go. 

You wonder how things would have gone had you known of his little crush on you, you wonder if maybe then you would have found the courage to ask him out. 

Steve’s hands move to your waist, giving it a squeeze before he wraps his arms around you again, hugging you against his chest, he peeks his eyes open, his lips curl into a smile the moment he sees your pretty face staring at him and feels the touch of your hand on his cheek. 

Today he wakes up knowing that you are his, that he no longer has to pretend the way he started to. 

“Caught you,” he whispers. 

His words make you blush, though they hold more meaning than you think. 

He caught you, not in this moment, not after waking from his sleep to catch you staring and touching his face, no, he caught you – after years and years of falling, he finally opened his eyes, he finally stepped forward after recognizing true love, he finally reached his hands – his arms out to you, he finally pulled you into his embrace. 

Steve cups your cheek, his brows pull together when he notices the tears in your eyes. 

“Hey,” he whispers, looking at you with nothing but worry in his eyes, “what’s wrong?”

You smile at his question and you shake your head, leaning towards his palm, you press your lips against it, giving him a kiss, “nothing,” you whisper, an unwanted tear falls from your eye, he catches it with his thumb, not letting it roll down your cheek. “I’m just so happy,” you whisper. 

Steve’s eyes soften, something deep within his chest stirs the longer he looks at you. The same vulnerability that flickered in your eyes the night before, is still there, still the same, if not more intense. 

You are not afraid, not anymore. 

He holds your face gently and leans in, kissing you softly, something he can now do freely, whenever he wants to, whenever he feels like it. 

He is happy, just as happy as you are. 

“So am I,” he whispers against your lips and reaches for your hand, holding it in his own as he entwines his fingers with yours, “you make me happy.”

Your hand gets lost in his much larger one, the size difference making your stomach flutter. You give it a squeeze and peck his lips once more, you lean closer to him, nuzzling your nose against his cutely. 

Steve’s eyes light up and a chuckle falls from his lips, one of surprise and adoration. Just like on the night of the fourth of July, you kiss him gently and continue to rub your nose against his, giggling as you do so. 

Who would've thought that the girl with the rough exterior is secretly so adorable, that the alcohol in her that one night brought out the real side of her and not some drunk version of her that normally doesn’t exist. 

Steve wraps his arm around you, and runs his middle finger up and down your spine. 

“So, you’re really like this huh?” He grins, feeling giddy about getting to see this you.

At that, a blush creeps to your face, one that you hide by pressing your face into the crook of his neck. 

“Oh no, baby,” he whispers, reaching for your chin, he pinches it between his thumb and his index finger, tilting your head back up again so he can see your face and look into your eyes again, “don’t hide from me. I love it. I knew I was fucked when you acted like this on the fourth of july.”  

Your cheeks heat up even more but the adoring smile on his face makes it hard for you to look away again. 

“Shit, I’ve been making love to you since that night, baby.”

Steve watches the way your eyebrows draw together, the way surprise flickers in your eyes along with the love and the happiness that drives his heart crazy. 

“You have?” You mumble, just above a whisper, like you can’t believe his words despite what happened last night. 

He can’t hold back from kissing you again, that’s all he wants to do now, kiss you, hold you, touch you, love on you. 

“Yeah, you stole my heart, darling,” he whispers in happiness. “It’s all yours, I’m yours.”

He said these words last night, he said these words now, he will say them forever. 

Your lips curl into the biggest smile he had ever seen on your face, a delightful giggle escapes you. You cup his cheeks and lean in, peppering his whole face with soft kisses, making him now giggle too. 

“I love you,” you whisper softly, “I love you so much, Steve Harrington.”

His heart could burst at any second, the feeling of your touch, your kisses, your words, you, you drive him crazy and he still isn’t sure if you realize just how deep his feelings are, if the words he gave to you the night before were even enough for you to understand the weight of the love he feels for you. 

To hear you say these words, to hear them from you, from the someone he admired from afar, in secret and in bitterness, the girl he thought could feel nothing but distaste for him, the girl that pushes away most people has and always had a soft spot for him – a soft spot for the guy that most people can’t even bring themselves to like yet love. 

But here you are, happy to be in his arms, crying tears of joy, unable to stop smiling and saying those three words he was hoping to hear from you, hoping all day and night that this dream might come true. 

And now it’s here, you are here and you are all his. 

The future he wished for is finally no longer out of reach, no longer something to unrealistically long for, it’s right in front of him. 

He remembers the future you told him of, the wishes and dreams you have, the ones so alike to his. 

“I love you,” he whispers along with your name that rolls off his tongue so beautifully, “and I hope you know that I’m never letting you go.” 

“Good, you better not–”

He presses his finger against your lips, shushing you, he looks into your eyes intensely, squeezing your side as a sudden rush of overwhelming emotions crashes over him. 

“You’re mine now, forever.” He flips you over and pushes you underneath him, getting on top of you, he leans down to kiss your neck, pressing his lips to the spot that makes you whimper. “My Blondie,” he whispers possessively and kisses under your ear. 

His deep, husky morning voice and the possessiveness behind his words make all your insides flutter. 

You cup the back of his neck and tug at his messy hair, arching your back and tilting your head to the side, allowing him more access to your neck. 

“I’m all yours,” you whimper when you feel his hand on your thigh, he is gripping it tightly and you instantly start spreading your legs for him, feeling the heat in your stomach rising quickly and intensely. “I always just wanted to be yours.” 

Steve’s heart swells in his chest, his lips twitch against you as he continues to kiss your neck, sucking on your skin and marking you up without a care in the world. You no longer have to hide. Nothing is official yet but it’s very clear what you both want. 

A shaky sigh falls from your lips when you feel his hand dangerously close to your heat, when you feel him throbbing against your thigh. 

This is the first time you woke up naked in each other’s arms since your first time, it never happened again.

Steve moves up from your neck, pressing his lips back to yours, he kisses you slowly and deeply, savoring each second of this morning. His fingers move closer and closer to your core. 

He loves the heat of your body against his, your soft bare skin so close against his. 

“New rule,” he mumbles against your mouth, opening his eyes to look into your pleading, hungry ones, “we always sleep naked from now on.”

“Really?” You giggle. 

He smirks, shrugging, “hey, easy access,” he whispers before he finally touches you, slipping his fingers through your already soaked folds, teasing your entrance and collecting your wetness before he brings it up to your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles around it, making you gasp and whimper in pleasure. 

“O-Oh fuck,” you breathe, tugging even harsher at his hair and pulling out a groan from his lips. 

“You’re so wet, darling,” he whispers, brushing your hair out of your face, he cradles your cheek and kisses your lips, admiring you and the way you get lost in the pleasure so quickly because of him. You are putty in his hands. And you are so beautiful, even more so when your lips part and your brows scrunch together, nothing but an awestruck, pleasured expression on your face as moans fall from you. “My beautiful girl,” he whispers as he slowly drags his fingers down, keeping his thumb pressed against your clit, even as he slides two of his fingers into you, making you gasp out even louder. 

Steve doesn’t know where to look, your gorgeous face as you fall apart for him or the way your body reacts to his touch, the way your chest moves and your stomach contracts, the way you clench around his fingers, the way you got them soaked and dripping already. 

“Feels so good but–” you pause with a whimper, pushing yourself up on your elbows, you look down and watch for a moment, the way he fucks you with his long fingers, splitting you open for his cock. You pull your brows together strongly, biting your lower lip as waves of pleasure crash over your body. You see him, you feel him poking into your thigh, his length hard and throbbing against you, his tip red and leaking. You need him, you need to feel him inside of you. 

“But what, hm?” Steve murmurs, loving the way you squirm beneath his body, the way you look at him with big eyes, begging for more, begging for him. He grabs your cheeks, holding them with one hand, “tell me what you want, honey.”

His chest hair tickles your skin, brushing against your hardened nipples, making you whine even more. 

“You–”

A gasp tears from your throat when he curls his fingers inside of you, just the right amount. His thumb pressing against your clit as his fingers start moving vigorously. 

“Fuck,” you whimper and shut your eyes, taken by the pleasure, completely enveloped by it. You thread your fingers through his hair, holding onto it as though your life depended on it. You throw your other hand around his wrist and open your eyes again to look at him. 

He won’t take his eyes off you, he watches you with pleasure. 

“I-I need–” your voice cuts off again, a vibrating feeling crashing through you when he moves faster, flicking his wrist back and forth, fucking you deeply and roughly, nudging your legs open further with his knee as he leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, teasing you with his tongue before he sucks on it, not taking his eyes off you, not even for a single second. 

“Oh! Steve!” 

Steve’s stomach flutters at the needy tone in your voice, the slick sounds that make his dick strain even harder against your skin – he needs to be inside of you or else he will cum just from pleasuring you. 

“P-Please, I need your cock, I need you to be inside of me,” you beg, nearly crying out from desperation, you are so close already, tears burn in your eyes, your walls are tensing around his long fingers and your stomach is burning in need. “Please, Steve! Fuck me!” You grab his waist, squeezing him as you try to pull him back up against you. 

And who is he to deny his darling? 

You cry out again, but this time due to the loss of his fingers inside of you, the emptiness that takes over for just a moment before he grabs your hips and adjusts on top of you, breathing heavily as he uses your wetness to stroke his length. He licks his lips and looks at you through hooded eyes, giving you a slight smirk when he slips it through your folds, prompting you to pull him even closer, pouting at him so adorably that he can’t tease you any longer. His hand holds your hip firmly, he sucks in a sharp breath and watches the way your glistening pussy takes him, the way you suck him.

You watch his face, watch the way desperation clings at him, the way his lips part and moans escape him. 

It’s hard for you to keep your eyes open when he splits you open and pushes in so deeply to the point that your mouth waters. 

He says your name, he says it so beautifully and he repeats it like a prayer, his eyelashes flutter and his eyebrows furrow in concentration. 

His right hand snakes up to your chest, squeezing your boob and pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger. 

“Stevie… fuck…” 

“Your pussy is sucking me in,” he groans and looks down, watching just how much his cock is glistening when he bottoms out before pushing back in, faster and rougher this time, making you jerk against him. 

You don’t know how you find the strength to but you wrap your legs around his waist and bring him closer. 

Steve smiles lazily when he moves fully on top of you, caging you in with his arms, pressing them on either side of your head as he leans his forehead against yours, “hi baby.”

You snake your arms around his neck, needing to feel him closer, needing to feel his lips on your, his chest against your own. 

“Hi baby,” you whisper, giving him a smile before you press your lips against his, closing your eyes and kissing him with all your love. Your lips mold together perfectly, your tongues meet. There is no roughness behind this kiss, just a deep passion that makes your heart beat stronger. 

And it’s all so perfect. 

When he starts moving, he rolls his hips slowly at first, blessing you with deep thrusts, making you both moan into the kiss but it doesn’t stay slow for long, you are both desperate and needy. Your breaths quicken, your bodies heat up, your moans turn into whines and his slow strokes move into deep and fast thrusts, he knocks the breath out of you so hard that you are unable to continue kissing him. 

Your mouth falls open, your eyes stay closed, you fear your vision would be blurry anyways if you tried to open them. He is so deep, so deep inside of you that you can feel him in your stomach. 

And he keeps kissing your lips, even if you are unable to kiss back now, he keeps on moving his lips against yours, breathing into your mouth, moaning. 

His chest hair brushes against your skin, his hair falls in front of his face and tickles your forehead, he keeps a protective hand over your head, cupping it so you don’t accidentally bump it against the headboard behind you when he fucks you a little harder after each thrust. 

He is guided by a possessiveness he hasn’t felt before, he now knows that you are his, wholeheartedly. And now it drives him crazy, in the best way possible. 

‘Mine. Mine. Mine.’ That’s all that echoes in his head as he gets lost in you, in the pleasure you feel because of him, in the way you cling to his body and whine against him, in the way he feels by making love to you. 

“Can’t believe you’re all mine,” he whispers against your lips and opens his eyes again to find tears of pleasure running down your cheeks, tears that he doesn’t hesitate to kiss away. 

You open your eyes as well and look at him through your tears, tearing a gasp out of him when you clench around his cock. 

You swallow harshly when you feel waves cursing over your body, burning in your stomach and making your legs shake. You still grab at his hair, tugging and holding onto it as you gaze up into his hazel eyes. 

“Show me… how much you love me.”

He wastes no time to reach for your hand, gently taking it off his neck, he presses your palm against your own chest and keeps his own over it, slipping his fingers through the gaps, he holds it tightly and slides it down your stomach, stopping just above your belly button. 

“Can you feel that, darling?” He breathes, getting cut off by his own moan when he presses both yours and his hand stronger against your stomach, feeling just how deep he is inside of you. 

You nod your head quickly, biting your bottom lip as the burning sensation in you grows even hotter.

“Y-Yes! I-I can feel you! You’re so… You’re so deep!” You babble, losing your composure completely, “f-feels so good, Steve, so good…” 

“Yeah? You like that huh?” He whimpers as he changes his pace, opting for rougher, slower and deeper thrusts now, “I’m gonna do this every morning, honey, gonna wake you up and remind you how good we fit together, how we were made for each other.” 

“P-Please do,” you whimper as you cling to the hand that keeps your body pressed against the mattress. 

Steve leans his forehead against yours, he nuzzles his nose with yours and looks into your eyes as he brings both you and himself to edge. 

“Gonna fill you up and claim you, over and over again,” he whispers against your lips, letting go of your hand so he can press his fingers against your aching clit. “Gonna show you just how much I love you.” 

Your body shakes beneath his but he keeps it in place, holding you down with the weight of his body and his strong arms, he leans down to kiss your face, every inch of it, he rubs your clit and fucks you roughly, hitting the angle that makes you see starts. 

A string of I love you’s fall from your lips as you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts, begging for him to release with you. 

“I’m gonna show you too, Steve,” you whisper breathlessly, pushing yourself up enough to kiss his pretty lips, “but first, I need you to cum inside of me, baby, I need you to fill me up with your cum… please.” 

Your begs and your pleas only make his dick throb harder, his balls tighten and his hips move deeper, harder, faster. 

He admires the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your eyebrows scrunch together even stronger than before, your jaw falling slack, your boobs bounce with each thrust of his hips and you squirm beneath him, whining in need. 

You feel every inch of him, the veins around his length, his tip brushing that one spot that turns your vision blurry from the pleasuring shock waves in you, his fingers that work on your clit. He kisses you, pecks your lips over and over again. 

“I can feel the way you’re clenching around me,” he whispers against you, unable to hold back the sounds that fall from his mouth as he comes closer and closer, “your tight little pussy is begging to be filled up with my cum, huh? You want me to breed you, don’t you, princess?” 

You don’t know whether it’s his words or the strong thrust he delivers that makes you come undone – your back arches, your eyes shut tightly as your fingers cling to his hair, pulling harshly, your walls flutter and clench around him stronger than ever before as you scream his name in pleasure. 

“O-Oh fuck,” Steve groans as his eyes roll back and his stomach contrasts when he feels you cumming around him. He can’t even hold back anymore, he grabs your hips and pushes up higher on his knees, tilting your pelvis up the slightest bit before he starts pounding into you, chasing his high but aiming for your second, as well. 

“Oh my god, Stevie!” You cry out, your arms falling by your sides as weakness takes over your body. You feel sensitive and overstimulated already, and yet, you can’t get enough of him, of the feeling of him inside of you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy with rough and deep strokes, your name falling from his lips so beautifully as he moans because of you.

You watch him, the way his chest heaves up and down, the way his forehead is coated with sweat already, hair hanging in front of his eyes as he pounds into you like he had gone feral, strong, veiny hands gripping your hips so harshly, sure to leave marks on your skin, his dark eyes flicker back and forth between your own and the part that connects you and him. 

“J-Just like that, you’re doing so good for me,” you manage to croak out with a shaky voice, ignoring the tears that spill down onto his pillows and just like before, you manage to push yourself up on your elbows, biting your lower lip as you feel the need to watch, watch the way he fucks into your sopping pussy, the sight of it only adding to the overwhelming pleasure in you. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, looking at you with the eyes of a man in love and in desperation. He traces his fingers down to your knee, unwrapping it from his waist, he nearly makes you squeal when he hooks it over his shoulder instead, pounding into you from a different angle now as his lips latch onto your ankle, kissing you there but never taking his eyes off yours. “I fucking adore you.” How his voice still sounds so steady and confident surprises him, he could bust right this second but the need to drag this out is so strong, even when his body is screaming for release. “I’m so fucking in love with you, you have no idea what I’d do for you, honey.” 

Your bottom lip trembles and your whimpers grow stronger when he presses his thumb back to your clit. He keeps this pace for a while, holding your leg firmly. 

Just the sight of you alone could make him come undone. 

He needs more, he needs to feel you again, so he gently places your leg back down, “keep your eyes open for me, come on, I know you can do it,” he whispers, unable to stay away from your lips any longer, he presses his chest back to yours and kisses you, “look at me when I fill you up with my cum.”

You throw your arms around him again, looking up desperately as you grow weaker and weaker. 

“That’s what you wanted, didn’t you, darling?” He murmurs, against your lips, whimpering himself when you squeeze around his cock, gripping him tightly. 

“Y-Yes! Please do it, cum for me, Steve, fill me up, give me your cum, daddy!” You whimper, needily, your body letting go once more. 

Steve’s eyes grow wide, pleasure shocking his body, begging to let go but he manages to keep his composure, wanting, needing more. Your words wake something in him, a side that has yet to be explored – he holds your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin, he bottoms out almost all the way before he snaps back inside of you, roughly and harshly, making you squeak and hold onto him like you never have before. 

"Daddy, huh?" Steve breathes as his thrusts become merciless, “that’s right, baby, I’m your daddy.”

You are nothing but a babbling mess at this point, whimpering his name, whimpering those three words, calling him by the name that just turned him into a man who has gone absolutely feral. 

And you love it, you love every second of it. 

You are barely able to keep your eyes open but you force yourself to, wanting to see this, to see him and how he takes control in a whole new way, fucking you disrespectfully yet looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes. His arms look so strong, veins appearing thick on his skin, the muscles in his stomach are tense, he is towering over you, he is so big, so much bigger than you.

You feel him so deeply that it makes you drool, your stomach burns in a satisfying way. 

And Steve, he can’t hold back the whimpers, the needy noises that he would have felt embarrassed about if he wasn’t so lost in love and pleasure. 

You can tell that he can’t hold back anymore, that he needs to cum, so you grab his face and kiss him roughly just as he loses control and spills inside of you. His merciless thrusts slowing down when his hips stutter, your walls continue to flutter around him, intensifying the pleasure in him even more. 

He kisses you deeply, swallowing each moan of yours as your tongues clash together, needily, desperately and you kiss each other until you no longer can, until your breaths are knocked out of you and your hearts are pounding harshly, lungs begging for air. 

You pull away just enough to breathe again but you keep kissing one another, pressing soft pecks to each other's lips as lazy smiles appear on your faces. You’re running your fingers through his hair, grazing his scalp with your nails, giggling when he nuzzles his nose against yours this time. 

“Good morning, Steve.”

He huffs in amusement, smiling brightly at you, his eyes crinkle, his dimples show, “good morning indeed, darling.” 

You giggle again, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you pull him down against you to hug him, not caring about the mess you both made, you need a shower anyways. 

He puts his head on your shoulder, happily falling into your embrace, enjoying the feeling of your fingers running up and down his back now. He is still inside of you, twitching and throbbing but he doesn’t want to pull out, loving your warmth. 

Steve tilts his head and looks up at you, his heart skipping a beat when he finds you staring with a loving smile on your lips. 

You reach your hand up to his face, brushing away his hair so you can see his hazel eyes better. 

“You called me daddy,” he says, causing your hand to freeze and your cheeks to heat up. 

You hide your face behind your hands but he quickly wraps his hands around your wrists and keeps you from hiding, “uh uh,” he shakes his head at you, smirking at your blushing face, “don’t hide from me, baby.”

Shame flickers in your eyes, your cheeks are glowing and you can feel the embarrassment flushing through you. 

“I don’t know what’s gotten–”

“I fucking love it, honey,” he cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, “almost made me bust right away when you said it.”

His eyes light up when you giggle loudly. 

“Always kinda had the fantasy of you calling me that, for a moment I thought this was all just a dream.”

You shake your head at him, licking your lips as you stare at your man. You place your hands on his neck and tug him even closer, giving him a short but deep kiss, “no, it’s all real… daddy.” 

Steve groans when he feels his cock throbbing in you, overstimulating him now, especially when you squeeze around him again. 

“Fuck… I gotta pull out or else I’ll cum again.” 

You giggle once more, driving his heart crazy with your pretty noises. 

“We made a mess already, I won’t mind another.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, grinning at you. 

“Oh yeah? You want me to keep you in bed all day, huh?” He murmurs and slowly brings his hand up to your cheek, cradling with his large hand. 

“Mhmm what if I do?” 

“Then I gotta give my girl what she wants huh?” 

Your whole heart flutters, your stomach does too, a warmth you only feel with him curses through your veins as giddiness and excitement settle into you. 

My girl. 

You have always been his girl. 

You nod your head, your eyes flickering between his own and his lips. 

“Yes,” you whisper before you smash your lips back against his. 

And you do stay in bed, the whole morning you stay there, touching and kissing one another, repeating your actions from the night before, growing hungry and desperate for each other, not caring about anything else in the world but this moment. 

Minutes and hours go by without you noticing just how much time has passed already, the room smells like sex and the crumpled, messy sheets are evidence of everything that you have done. 

Your body is littered with marks, just like his as your lips chase to leave hickeys on every spot you haven’t marked up just yet, putting great effort into it as though it will linger like a tattoo. No fear of anyone seeing them now, no nervousness of leaving them in appropriate places no more.

He has to carry you into the bathroom by the end of it, too shaky are your legs to walk yourself, he finds pleasure in lifting you up into his arms though just as he does in being the one to wash you, all while stealing kisses from you the whole time. He washes your hair and massages your scalp, wearing a smile on his face the whole time, he is careful not to get anything into your eyes. He washes your body, using your favorite scent, he takes his sweet time, loving to take care of you, loving the thought of this being only the beginning of it all, that this is not a one time special thing, it’s something that will follow you both into tomorrow, into forever. 

You take your turn too, washing his hair with excitement bubbling in you, you’re both a giggling mess the whole time, when he has to bend down to make it easier for you, low enough for his face to be right in your boobs, he wiggles his eyebrows at you as he grabs them, squeezing tightly. 

“You’re such a dork!” You giggle and slap his shoulder playfully, the foam of his shampoo on your hands landing on the glass doors behind him. 

“Yeah but I’m your dork,” he grins and leans in to kiss your chest.

“Yes, you are,” you smile, proudly, unable to contain the happiness in you and it turns his smile bigger as well. 

You are both in bliss. 

When you are done, you don’t get out right away, he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly against him, he holds a protective hand over your head, pressing it against his pecs while you wrap your arms around his waist. 

You both stand there under the stream of the water, enjoying the warmth of it and each other. His fingers run up and down your spine and he keeps murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of his love for you. 

He doesn’t stop there, he makes you sit on the edge of the bathtub while he puts lotion on your skin, not holding back from kissing every inch of your body, making you giggle yet again. He helps you into one of his shirts before he carefully combs through your hair, refusing to let you dry your own hair after you get up and reach for the hair-dryer. 

“My own personal hair stylist,” you grin at him through the mirror, admiring the way the towel hangs low on his hips, the way water still drops from his hair and down his chest. 

“Mhmm, I’ll take good care of your hair,” he murmurs, winking at you. He places his hand on your waist and leans closer, reaching for the small glass bottle that is inside the box with all his hair products. 

“What’s that?” You ask, watching as he squirts some of it on his fingers before he places it back into the box, he rubs his fingers together before he runs it through your hair. 

“It’s hair oil, honey,” he says nonchalantly, “it’s gonna make your hair all soft and shiny.” 

“Huh.” You nod as you look at everything that he owns for his hair, it’s surely way more than you own, no wonder his mane is always so perfect. 

“You don’t use any?” He furrows his brows. 

You shake your head, sighing at the feeling of his fingers in your hair. 

“See, your hair needs me too.” 

You giggle and lean your head back against his shoulder, tilting your head to the side to look at him. 

Steve grins, letting go of your hair, he slides his hand under your jaw and cups your cheek, he leans down and kisses you softly, you are still smiling and so is he. 

All of this still feels so surreal, just a day ago, he believed this would be impossible, that this is something he could never have, not after Robin told him that it was just sex for you, that you had no feelings, no wishes to deepen the bond between you — he has to talk to her but not today, today belongs to you and him. 

He glances at you through the mirror, catching you staring at him with a big smile on your lips. Before he can say or do anything, you turn around and cup his cheeks, rising to your tippy toes, you steal a kiss from him. 

“I adore you, Steve.”

He grins at you, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands find home on your waist. 

“Yeah? I adore you, Blondie.”

He watches the way you gaze into his eyes, the happiness and the love so evident in yours, the excitement you can’t seem to contain coming through – feelings you have kept locked up for so long finally being let out, a side of you that you have buried underneath all the layers you have shown for so long, finally shining through. You feel safe with him, safe enough to show him that side that you were afraid of letting others see. 

But here you are now, kissing him, cuddling him, being clingy with him – something he thought he could only dream of, not long ago. 

You hug him from behind and kiss his shoulder while he prepares your coffee, you make ‘breakfast’ for you both late in the afternoon and you spend a long time sitting at the round table in his kitchen, talking and eating your first meal of the day, holding hands and laughing with each other. 

Robin calls and Steve watches the way you tense up when he speaks her name into the receiver. He doesn’t know what happened between you both, what Robin had said to you, you didn’t talk about it yet, you didn’t want to and he respected that, this day is about you two and that’s what he tells his best friend, as well. 

“You’ll apologize to her later. For now, she is with me… just the two of us.” 

He is not angry at her, he knows she only wants the best for him but he doesn’t want to see her right now, he only wants to be with you. 

And he doesn’t want to talk about the bad things, about the things he believed before you showed up and stood beneath the pouring rain, ready to fight for him. 

You were the first. 

The first person to fight for him. 

To love him without expecting something in return. 

And now you are here and you are his – officially soon. 

The date he planned so spontaneously was one that he had dreamed of since the night at the fair, where he wished to kiss you in front of everyone, where he thought of taking you on the ferris wheel and admire the fireworks with you on the very top, where he wanted to win you a bear and see those beautiful eyes of yours light up because of him. 

It didn’t take him long to decide where he would take you tonight. 

Anything would be perfect, a date at the movies, at the restaurant, a picnic on the lookout or even just movie night in his bedroom, the latter seems the most relaxing – but he really wants to take you out, hold your hand in public and kiss you breathless, not a single care in the world about who could see. 

The excitement in him keeps growing, even when he begrudgingly lets you go so you can get ready at your house – he doesn’t let you go easily, showering you in kisses and cuddling you at his front door before you even manage to take a step outside and even when he does let you go, he doesn’t waste a single second before he runs upstairs and starts getting ready as well, doing his hair as quickly as he can, picking out an outfit that is sure to impress you. It takes him approximately thirty minutes before he is standing on your porch with flowers in his hand and a wide smile on his face. 

While he is fully ready, you are still clad in his shirt, makeup only halfway done and hair up in rollers. You giggle when you see him, “I said an hour!” You throw your hands up, though there is nothing but excitement in your voice as well and you reach for his wrist, pulling him into your home. 

Your eyes light up when you look at the flowers he got for you, the thought of him hurrying around his house, getting ready and making a quick stop to get you flowers makes your heart flutter wildly in your chest. 

“I’m sorry, honey, I couldn’t wait,” he grins and leans down to press his lips to yours, tasting the strawberry chapstick on your mouth. “Besides, I can watch my girl getting ready.” 

“You’re so cute,” you smile and reach for the flowers he picked, pink tulips. You raise them up to your nose, looking into his warm eyes as you breathe in the scent. “I love them, thank you, Stevie.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer, kissing your forehead softly, “you’re welcome, Blondie.” 

You place your hand on his shoulder and tilt your head up, pecking his cheek before you move away from him and make your way into the kitchen to put the flowers into a vase. 

Steve follows, his smile never falling, he hears the music coming from your room, he can see the happiness on your face and all because of him. 

You fill the vase with water and carefully place the flowers inside, removing the string that ties them together and for a moment, you stare at them. He got you flowers, Steve got you flowers after he asked you out on a date, after he confessed his feelings, his love for you. 

Who would’ve thought that jumping into the water that night, would bring you here. 

You take the flowers up into your room and place them on your bedside table, a smile appears on your face again when you feel him coming up from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest. His breath hits your neck, his lips follow and he nuzzles his nose against your neck, “you look so fucking hot.”

You tilt your head to the side, careful not to hit him with the rollers in your hair, “with my makeup half done and those granny rollers?”

“You always look hot, baby,” he murmurs, kissing your neck again, he trails his lips down lower and lower over the marks he left this morning, “especially when you’re wearing my clothes.” 

“Steve,” you sigh, your eyelashes flutter, moans threatening to spill from your lips, “I-I gotta get ready or else we’ll never make it to the date.”

His chuckle vibrates against you, he squeezes your waist before he lets go of you and puts some distance between you when he sits down on your bed, smiling up at you. 

“Alright, baby.” 

He leans back, looking you up and down with awe in his eyes, watches the way you blush for him, the way you step forward and tap his nose before you walk away and sit down in front of your vanity, picking up one of the brushes and your eyeshadow palette, continuing your makeup. 

His heart skipped at your cute action. He is still filled with surprise to see you act so carefree around him, to get to know more and more of this side of you. 

For a while, he sits on your bed and watches you in contentment, following every step of your routine as you apply glitter to the inner corner of your eyes, the way you draw the eyeliner so effortlessly, the way you put lipstick on your lips as though it won’t smudge in a few minutes again. 

You look so beautiful, it drives his heart crazy. 

He can’t wait to take you into one of the photo booths and take his first pictures with you – making up for the day when he could not find the courage to ask for pictures with you when you were taking them so happily with Nancy. 

Those pictures are on the clipboard over your desk now, Jonathan had printed them for you and you wasted no time putting them up, he was here when you did it. He should have known then that there was a side to you that no one had seen yet. 

He walks over to your desk and takes a look at all your favorite memories, at the polaroids of your best friends, ones of Billy, some of Eddie, the teens during movie night in your living room, Jonathan and Argyle smoking pot on the swing in your backyard, there is even a picture of him with Robin, she was wearing your heart shaped sunglasses and he gave her bunny ears. He wishes that there would be some of you with him. 

“Whatcha looking at?” 

He turns to you, you have taken out the rollers in your hair while he was distracted by all the memories you have kept on your wall. For a moment he stares at you, his chest filling with warmth, his heart skipping several beats. Your makeup is all done, your hair is framing your face gorgeously, you reach for one of your many perfume bottles and spray some on your neck and on your wrists before you dab some of it behind your ears. 

His stomach bubbles with excitement knowing that watching you getting ready will become a part of his everyday life now.

Steve smiles, pointing to the picture of you and Nancy, “I wanted a picture with you that day.” 

You turn in your chair and raise your eyebrows at him, tilting your head in question, “hmm?”

“You took pictures with everyone… except for me... I was building up the courage to ask for a group picture to at least be in the same one as you.” 

Despite everything that has been said since the previous night, you still feel the shock in you, the surprise that takes hold of you as you digest his words. 

He wanted to take pictures with you, on a day when things between you were still so fresh. 

He was building up the courage to ask for a picture. 

Your chair scratches against the hardwood floor when you push it back and stand up, making your way over to him with a soft look in your eyes and a slight pout on your lips. 

He looks so cute standing there, admiring the photos on your wall and wishing there’d be ones of him. You can’t help but snake your arms around his waist and hug him tightly. 

“I always wanted some with you too,” you murmur and look up at him. 

He wraps his arms around you, cupping the side of your head, he is careful not to ruin your curls. 

“yeah? We’ll take some today.” 

You raise your brow at him, “oh?”

You don’t know where he is taking you, he wants it to be a surprise. 

“Yeah so get your sweet ass in some clothes so I can take you on the date,” he grins and moves his palm down to squeeze your butt. 

The sound of your giggle makes his heart swell in his chest, the touch of your hand on his, making it beat faster. You pull him towards your closet, opening the door, and you give him a smile, “pick a dress for me.” 

You don’t have to ask him twice. 

He squeezes your hand and steps forward, taking in the colors and the amount of clothes that are way too much for this closet. 

“Jesus, Blondie,” he whistles and reaches his hand out, searching for the perfect dress, “your closet is gonna bust soon, where do you even get that many clothes?” 

You cross your arms over your chest as you shrug, “Indianapolis has some nice stores, besides I have a lot of free time.” 

“I can tell.”

“Hey! We all got something, you got your hair products, I like buying clothes, don’t judge me!” 

Steve chuckles at you, “I’m not judging, don’t worry, honey. You can buy as many clothes as you want, I’m just saying you need a bigger closet.” 

“Are you gonna build me one?” You joke. 

“Yeah, someday,” he grins. 

He stops at a pink dress, one he hasn’t seen you wearing before, it’s a sundress, one he’d normally want to see you in if the dress on the very last hanger didn’t catch his eye. The blue color suddenly stands out to any other, capturing his attention completely. 

Something settles in the pit of his stomach, feelings of guilt and regret from the day when he watched you walk away from him after you had come in so nervously, after you had stuttered whilst trying to talk to him. He was so awful to you, he said such rude things to you while you stood before him in this beautiful dress – how did he not fall to his knees back then? How was his stubbornness stronger than any other emotion in him? How could he be so awful to you when all you wanted was to talk to him? 

Talk… Is that all you wanted though? If your feelings had been there for so long, was talking to him really the only goal for you that day? Or was there more? Was there a reason why you walked away with sadness in your eyes? 

His heart starts dropping the longer he thinks about it, the longer he thinks about the day he missed the greatest opportunity that he had. 

“W-Why don’t you wear this one?” He asks and takes it out slowly. 

The smile that stayed on your face this whole time falls a little and that is all the confirmation that he needs. 

There is a sadness in your eyes that flashes for a split second, your throat bobs when you swallow. You uncross your arms and reach forward, pinching the dress between your fingers. You haven’t taken it out once since then. 

Billy picked it out for you. 

You wore it with such excitement, one that was ruined. 

Steve watches the emotions that flicker in your eyes, the memories that go through your mind the longer you look at it. 

He feels the need to make it right, make it better. 

If he wasn’t such a fool, if he didn’t mess up that day, you’d be his for a while now. 

“Let me finally see what I have missed this past year for being a fucking idiot,” he says with a smile, yet remorse in his features. 

You huff and chuckle at him. You take it from his hands and look up at him, at the fond smile on his lips, the apologetic, soft eyes he looks at you with. 

How can you not grant him this wish? 

“Alright.” You smile and step away from him, “I’ll be right back.”

You get changed in the bathroom, taking a moment to yourself, you put the dress on, not looking at yourself just yet, you zip it and fix the bow on the cleavage, taking slow but steady breaths. 

A year back, you stood here like you do now but instead of happiness and excitement, you felt nervousness and anxiety burning in you, everything that could go wrong plagued your mind, your hands were shaking and your chest hurt but now… things are different, you feel nothing but giddy, your stomach doing somersaults, your heart keeps fluttering, you are happy. 

You take a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror, at the smile you can’t even contain knowing that this is it. 

You no longer have to fear anything, you no longer have to hide, you no longer have to wish for something thinking that it will never be. 

You got what you wanted, nothing stopped you and now he is yours. 

The look in his eyes is one of love and awe when you step outside, his cheeks heat up, a pinkish glow now adorning his pretty face. He steps forward in excitement and he reaches for your hand, “my beautiful girl,” he murmurs and presses his hand to your hip, “you are so gorgeous.” 

“Steve…” You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully when he makes you twirl for him before he pulls you against him. 

“I thought the same thing about you back then, Blondie, I was just an idiot.” 

You place your hands on his chest and glare at him, “stop calling yourself an idiot, I was kind of a bitch to you too.” 

He snorts and shakes his head, “don’t, I deserved that.”

“No, you didn’t and you’re not an idiot anymore so… let’s go!” 

Amused by your impatience, he leans down with a chuckle and pecks your lips before he grabs your hand, “yeah, let’s go, darling.” 

On the way to his car, Steve notices something, feelings he had never felt before a date, comfort, warmth, peace. And he had gone on so many dates before but something always felt off, he could never pinpoint what it was but it just never felt the way it was supposed to feel, not even with Nancy who until you, he thought was the one for him – nothing ever felt this real, this delightful, this happy with her. 

A simple car ride with you can bring out feelings in him that he had never experienced in his life before, not with anyone. 

Colors he never thought he would see are right before him now that you are his, the touch of your hand makes him feel protected and safe. You can drive his heart insane but you can also calm it down like nobody else, you can light a fire inside of him yet mend it at the same time with a simple kiss. 

He couldn’t even begin to describe the kind of love he feels for you, not even if he tried. 

But he can safely say that you are the one for him and this time he knows that it’s real – he would put a ring on your finger right this moment. 

Everything you do, every smile, every reaction of yours makes him smile in a way his cheeks hurt, he blushes, something he had never done until you, he feels a giddiness in him he hasn’t felt since he was a kid. 

When you arrive at your destination, he watches you closely, the way your eyes widen when you see the flashing lights, when you see the rides, the ferris wheel and smell the cotton candy. 

“An amusement park!?” You yell, eyes lighting up like the ones of a child on christmas day. 

You grab his hand and squeeze it tightly, smiling excitedly at him. 

“Do you like it?” Steve asks despite already knowing the answer to his own question. 

You respond with a kiss and he does not hesitate to wrap his arm around your waist and kiss you back, smiling against your lips, feeling his heart racing from his own excitement. He keeps you close, he does so all night, keeping your hands and fingers entwined, stealing kisses every few seconds or so, unable to stop himself. 

You spend the night getting sick on the rides, eating ice cream and corn dogs, giggling at each other like two lovesick teens. 

When he finally spots the photo booth, he excitedly pulls you towards it, brushing past the crowds of people and the laughing children with you, he slides open the small curtain and gets in first before he grabs your waist and pulls you in with him, dragging you down on his lap. 

“Someone’s eager to get those pictures,” you say with a giggle as you shut the curtain again before you push back against his chest and wrap your arm around him. His breath hits your skin, his large hand grabs at your hip. 

“I am eager, honey,” Steve murmurs against your shoulder, pressing his lips against it, “I wanna take pictures with my girl.” 

My girl seems to be his favorite name for you now, every stop you make at any ride or food truck, he calls you that when he orders for you both. 

‘A ticket for me and my girl.’

‘Two ice cream cones for me and my girl.’

‘One diet Pepsi for my girl, please.’ 

It made you giggle every time while he smiled proudly every time he gestured to you during each order. 

You flinch in surprise when the first flash goes off and you feel his lips on your cheek and his arms tighten around your waist. You didn’t even notice when he slid the dollar in and pressed start. 

“I wasn’t ready!” You giggle, staring at the countdown on the screen, you quickly pull back a little and turn to face Steve, he is already staring at you, smiling. You cup the side of his face and look into his eyes. 

“Where’s your pretty head at, hm?” He whispers and gazes into your eyes. 

The flash goes off again, capturing a perfect moment of the two of you. 

“Always with you.” 

“Me?” He murmurs and cups your face, pulling you down, he buries his face in your neck and kisses over your marks, “I’m right here, darling.” 

You tilt your head to the side and wrap your hand around his wrist, closing your eyes when the feeling of his lips puts you into a state of bliss. 

The flashing light following each perfect moment of yours. 

Steve tucks your hair behind your ear when you pull him back from your neck, pressing your palm back to his cheek, you lean your forehead against his and nuzzle your nose against his, making him grin. 

“I feel like my heart bursts every time you do this,” he mumbles against your lips. 

“What?” You whisper and nuzzle your face against his again with a smile, “this?” 

He squeezes your hip and chuckles, nodding against you, “yeah, it’s so fucking cute.” He presses his lips against yours and you both close your eyes as you start kissing, getting lost in it so quickly, forgetting the flashing lights and the small space you’re in, forgetting the people outside and drowning out the noises. 

Your lips taste like ice cream, his taste like the pepsi he stole from you, his cologne makes your insides tingle, the touch of his hands making you whine into the kiss. You press yourself tighter against him, letting your hands get lost in his hair as his arms envelop you fully, large hands settle on your back before one trails up to the nape of your neck. He buries his fingers in your hair, messing up the curls a little but you don’t mind. 

The butterflies go wild in your stomach, his warmth pulling you closer and closer, his tongue now meeting yours as the kiss deepens further. 

The flashing lights keep going off but neither of you care or even notice at this point. 

You are so lost in each other, everything fades to nothing around you both. 

Even as you grow breathless, neither of you make the move to pull away. 

The emotions in you nearly overwhelm you, everything you have ever wanted now belongs to you. 

Everything you have wished for when you went to Scoops Ahoy that day has finally happened. 

When the two of you walk out of the photobooth, breathless from the intense makeout session that ensued, and you both look at the pictures, you can’t help but feel like crying. His lips on your cheek, looking at each other, him kissing your neck, and several pictures of you two just kissing, oblivious to the pictures being taken. You tuck those pictures safely in your purse, knowing their next home is your wall.

You feel the need to confess, to tell him about what you wanted, what you came for that day at scoops and how strong your feelings really are because you don’t think that he truly understands just how loved he had always been. 

So when he takes you to the ferris wheel you decide the perfect time is now. 

Your cheeks feel hot and without even looking, you know that your hair is a mess on your head from his hands, just like his is too, it’s disheveled and his cheeks are red, you don’t want to fix his hair though, you love the way he looks right now. 

“Hey,” you whisper as you hold onto his hand tightly, your stomach would have felt queasy being on this ride if you weren’t here with him. He makes you feel safe, no matter what, no matter where you are. 

His eyes never strayed away from you, not even to look down at all the attractions beneath you. His right arm is wrapped around your waist, you’re tucked into his embrace, not even the wobbly carriage that keeps taking you up higher and higher into the air could make you feel unsafe. 

“Hi,” he whispers softly. 

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.” 

“You know… that day at Scoops,” you pause, feeling guilty for even bringing it up when you see the look in his eyes, the one full of guilt. Of course he remembers, you knew from the moment he found the dress in your closet and you know that it’s haunting him, you can see it. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, his smile slowly fading but not completely. 

You hold his hand tighter, “I don’t want you to feel bad, I just want you to know something.” You don’t even know if it is necessary to still tell him about your plan from that day, he knows of your feelings now, of how long you have kept them in but a part of you needs you to let this secret go, as well. 

“What is it?” He whispers and reaches his hand out to your face when the wind blows through your hair, getting stuck on your eyelash. He fixes it and tucks it behind your ear, he keeps his palm resting on your cheek. 

“I wanted to ask you out,” you confess with burning cheeks. 

His hazel eyes flash with surprise, his stomach flutters as warmth tingles up to his neck. 

You wanted to ask him out on a date? 

You wanted to ask him out even though he was a dick to you? 

“R-Really?” 

You nod. 

What would’ve happened if you did ask him out? He wonders. 

How would he have reacted? 

One thing he knows for sure is that he would be standing with red cheeks before you, he would have stuttered and stared at you stunned. 

“Billy was the one who encouraged me.”

If Steve’s eyes could widen any further, they surely would. 

“Billy?” He nearly yells. “Billy Hargrove!?”

You giggle at the confused and shocked look on his face. 

“Yeah, Billy Hargrove encouraged me to make a move on you from the day I first told him about my feelings for you. He helped me pick out that dress, he even drove me to the mall and gave me a pep talk,” you confess, smiling at the memory of your best friend. 

He huffs, shoulders slumping as he blinks a few times. And then his shocked frown transforms into a confused one, “w-wait, how did he not kill me after the way I treated you?” He asks in shame, not liking the memory of that day. 

“I never told him,” you shrug and sigh, “I didn’t want him to fight you, I knew he’d kick your ass.” 

Yeah, he would and he would have deserved it, he thinks. 

But you thought so otherwise, you protected him, even on his worst days, when he did nothing but hurt you, you protected him. 

In middle school, in high school and later. 

No matter how young you were or how mature you had gotten, you were never angry with him, never bitter, no matter how he treated you, all you held for him was love, even when he did not deserve it. 

“I told him I chickened out, that I never asked you out or even stepped foot inside Scoops.” 

Steve whispers your name, a pained expression taking over his pretty features. 

You shake your head at him, grasping his hand even tighter than before, “don’t feel bad, I don’t want you to feel guilty, those days are over, I just wanted to tell you that I have always been there and about Billy.”

Billy who hated him, Billy who used every opportunity to start a fight with him – he could have talked you out of it, he could have tried to turn you against him but he didn’t, he pushed you towards him, towards a guy he could never stand. 

Steve looks at you, at the girl who went through hell and back for him, quite literally, you loved him from afar, you have jumped into a different world just to save him, to protect him, you followed him into darkness, you fought by his side, you would have died for him, he knows it, he knows you would and after everything, after every cruel world, after every push-back, you still love him unconditionally. 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, cupping both your cheeks and looking into your eyes intensely, “I wish I could go back and change things but I can’t but… baby, I was a fool, I didn’t understand my feelings, there was always something, I already told you that last night but I need you to know that my heart always went crazy over you, I didn’t understand these feelings back then, they confused me just like they did when you got dragged into this mess with us… I didn’t want you to be a part of it not because I didn’t want you around but because I was fucking worried about you, when we parted ways and you went to the Creel house with the kids, I felt like I lost a piece of myself… and when I saw you at the hospital–” he pauses, his voice getting shaky as tears well up in his eyes. “I think that was the first time I ever prayed, Blondie. I-I needed you to be okay and I didn’t know what I’d do if I– if I lost you.” 

Your bottom lip wobbles, your own eyes well up with tears as you look into his sad ones. You grab his wrists, holding on tightly. 

Steve sat by your side every day, for hours, sometimes until the nurses kicked him out. He sat there and held your hand, he waited and waited, and prayed for you to wake up. He felt anger for Jason Carver, he felt grief over you. 

To see him so distraught over what happened to you, to think that he felt this way even back then makes your heart hurt. 

“You didn’t lose me, Steve, you never will,” you whisper and press your forehead against his, “you’re stuck with me now.” 

His lips curl into a small smile, he caresses your cheek, not letting the tear that slipped from your eye, roll down your cheek. 

“Sounds like heaven to me,” he whispers against your lips, leaning into your touch, “my heart was always yours, I was too stupid to realize.” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, giggling through your tears, like your heart isn’t bursting at his words, “you were a real Lego Head.” 

Steve’s eyes crinkle, his eyes glow with amusement and love, you both giggle and lean in closer and closer. 

“I’ll never be one again,” he whispers against your lips. 

“Good,” you murmur before you close your eyes and kiss him, smiling against his mouth when a sweet sigh escapes him. You feel the wind on your skin, you know how high up you are now but you don’t care and neither does he. 

He cradles your face in his large hands and kisses you in a way you could only dream of months back. 

And he feels the same, he has dreamed of a love like this, of one that would strip him off the dark colors that have enveloped him, that have taken hold of him when people have stomped on his heart. You broke through the wall around him, you took his hand and pulled him out of a pit that he never wanted to admit he was in, you saved him and you gave him something that he will hold so dearly, that he will protect with his life, you gave him your heart, your love. 

He feels such joy and love in his heart, he can’t even contain it. 

You trail your left hand down to his chest, pressing it against his beating heart – the heart that belongs to you. He grabs it and toys with your empty ring finger. 

“Asking you to marry me is too soon… so I gotta settle into asking you to be my girlfriend,” he whispers after pulling away from the kiss, his heart thumping in his chest, his hope filled eyes staring into your awestruck ones. 

“Not too soon for me but I’ll take the girlfriend title for a while,” you say so calmly, like your heart isn’t about to burst, like the excitement in you isn’t vibrating strongly. 

If Steve wasn’t sitting down, he is sure that his knees would buckle at your words. 

He is so weak for you and he is not sure if you truly realize it. 

But he will show you, again and again until you finally see it. 

He makes you squeal when he moves suddenly and wraps you in his arms, hugging you tightly before he starts peppering kisses to your face, “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you so much, you have no idea how much I do.” Kiss. “You make me the happiest man in the world.” Kiss. “You’re my everything, you’re my stars and my sunshine.” Kiss. “You’re my heart.” Kiss. “My girlfriend.” 

Your cheeks hurt from all the giggling, your brows are scrunched as he keeps kissing all over your face, nuzzling his nose against yours and keeping you close. 

You feel like you’re floating, like the sunshine grazes your skin despite it being night, your chest feels light and you just feel… happy. 

“My boyfriend,” you whisper against his lips, words you never thought would come from your mouth. 

Yeah, his knees would definitely buckle again. 

“Say that again, darling, please…” He begs, pleading with his eyes, he needs it. 

“My love,” you kiss him and smile, “my boyfriend.” 

He kisses you again and again, even when you make it back down on the Ferris Wheel and the guy who advised you to your carriage tells you to get out with his monotone voice and his bored expression, Steve pecks your lips happily, not a single care in the world about the people around him, about the guy who is staring waiting for you both to move. Steve wants everyone to know that you are his girlfriend. 

You are both a giggling mess when you finally walk away and throw yourselves back into the crowd, hands clinging to each other, happy smiles on your faces. 

Before you leave, he wins you a teddy bear and you surprise him by winning one back for him. 

And when you make it to his car by the end of the night, he presses you against it and steals your breath away yet again, he kisses you deeply and holds you tightly, no hunger behind it but love, passion and sweetness. 

Though on your drive back to Hawkins, you both get a little eager when hand holding and kissing at red lights is suddenly not enough anymore. He pulls the car over into a secluded area, where nothing but trees and bushes surround you. You hastily undo the seatbelt and giggle loudly when he pulls you into the backseat, giving you no time to react before he grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him, murmuring just how bad he wants and needs you when his hands slip under your dress. 

You spend the night making love in the backseat of his car, kissing and touching one another in ways no one else ever could. 

Tonight nothing matters. 

Nothing but the two of you. 

You are his and he is yours. 

After all those years, after the negative thoughts, after realizing that maybe you would have to live with this unrequited love for the rest of your life, after thinking that there is no chance at all… After you two started being intimate out of anger, or out of lust, not knowing all the feelings that were behind all of it. All the feelings you held that he didn’t know about, and all the feelings he had and you could only hope were there.

‘Told you you could do it, Sweets.’ It’s what he would have said to you, whispered in your ear as he shook Steve’s hand with disgust, welcoming him as your partner. Your boyfriend. Your future.

Steve is yours. Steve Harrington is finally yours. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

[munsonthings86]

sunshine

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a love-struck steve cooks you dinner for the first time

warnings: cursing, alcohol, bit of backstory, oversimplified summary, steve's parents kinda suck (when do they not), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, soft!steve

an: i think this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written. i'm so in love with these two. i hope you all enjoy this one as much as i do. * don’t copy my work * (also pretend there's a big city near hawkins for the sake of this pls)

wc: 6.0k

“Ow!” Steve hissed, nicking his finger yet again as he made his best effort to dice pesky onions. The knife was razor-sharp as it was fresh out of its packaging, having never been used yet. Frustrated, he squeezed the band-aid he'd spent a solid ten minutes looking for, tighter on his finger, earning a harsh sting.

"Goddamned knife," he whispered, tightlipped, but as soon as the complaint left his lips he wished to yank it back in. It was the chef's knife you'd bought him along with many other thoughtful housewarming gifts to celebrate Steve moving into his first apartment. Steve had insisted that you return some of the gifts, noting that "one gift was more than he could ever ask for".

In spite of his pleas, you didn't return a single gift. Of course, you didn't. You had bought items you knew Steve would need but would ultimately forget to buy for himself. Just to name a few, you'd gotten him a trash bin for his bathroom, a record player, and the best utensil set that the rest of your Family Video paycheck could buy.

Peering at the odd assortment of household objects you'd lugged into his barren apartment with a bright smile pulling at the corners of your lips, an expression of gratitude and bewilderment claimed his face. Steve's round, chestnut-brown eyes ogled yours as you ranted and raved, explaining your thought process behind each purchase.

The record player was for nights like these. Peaceful nights indoors, simply enjoying each other's company without the tense presence of his parents who would shout for him to turn that damn music down if he even thought about letting the needle hit the groove of the record.

"Now we can play music as loud and as much as we want to," he remembered you saying, blushing at your use of the word "we". Though you two were only best friends and have been since grade school, Steve couldn't help but fantasize about a life with you. You, drowning in one of his bigger-than-you t-shirts, prancing around the apartment as you listened to some your favorite records.

He'd begun pondering on how he would rearrange the bit of furniture he had, that'd allow for space for your belongings as well, before you lured him out of his thoughts, defending the bin.

From what he gathered, you bought the garbage bin due to his burning inability to keep his bathroom clean. Steve was someone who took great care of his appearance, always well-kempt and attentive to even the smallest of details.

His bathroom did not reflect this, whatsoever. He had a bad habit of harboring empty cans and bottles of Farrah Fawcett spray that littered the already limited counter space he had in his en suite bathroom.

Steve was such a boy when it came to tidiness.

Everyone knew that about Steve, though. What they didn’t know, however, was how skilled he was in a kitchen. After being left to his lonesome whenever his parents would venture off to one of their many business trips, Steve spent his nights learning to cook after his allowance dwindled and he couldn't afford pizza delivery anymore. The second he'd clock in for his shift at Family Video, he'd make a beeline to where you stood, stocking VHS tapes, and instantly began buzzing and bustling about the new recipe he tried the night before.

You had begged him to let you come over one night to taste one of his home-cooked meals, but his response was always the same. "You can't rush perfection, sweets. But I promise, when I'm ready to grace the world with my master chef skills, you'll be the first to know."

You would roll your eyes dramatically at him but admittedly, you felt a sense of pride wash over you whenever Steve would tell you about his cooking endeavors. It may not seem like a big deal to others, but you knew how much his parents being so negligent, so often, bothered him.

Though they were never the most warm and affectionate, there seemed to be a colder chill and heavier sense of loneliness in the house when they were gone. That's why you never denied Steve whenever he'd call late at night asking if it was okay to spend the night at your house.

He always felt at home there.

Steve learning to cook for himself meant that his parents' absence was finally beginning to help him grow; no longer craving validation and tenderness from his family. He got that when he was with you. That's what the utensil set was for. A silent sign saying that though his parents weren't there, you were.

"Don't get me wrong, sunshine, I love the gift, but why's this knife so funny looking?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes at the sharp object that looked like it was from some alien universe. It had three square-like holes infiltrating the blade, and the tip came to an up-turned point that split in two. The handle was the only average looking part about it.

"That, my friend, is a cheese knife," you answered matter-of-factly, gazing at the box that had all of the included utensils neatly labeled.

"They make knives specifically for cheese?"

"Apparently, yeah," you snorted, tossing the empty box off to the side of the room with the other discarded cardboard that you made a mental note to move to the recycling bin on your way out. Steve never recycled. Bad habit he picked up from his parents, you figured.

"Well, I can't wait to use my weird new knife. Thank you. Seriously," Steve smiled softly as he watched you with those big brown eyes that voiced his gratitude and sentiment louder than his words ever could.

"The best weird chef has to have the best weird equipment. You're welcome," you grinned, toying with the loose thread dangling from your distressed band tee, as your eyes collided with Steve’s.

Looking at Steve was hard.

In the midst of quiet and almost intimate moments like these, the nerves bolting through your body screamed at you to look anywhere else, but the greed of your heart yearned for you to keep drinking in the deep chocolate pools that were Steve Harrington's eyes.

The two of you gazed at each other for another second, though it felt identical to a blissful eternity, until Steve furrowed his eyebrows after registering what you'd just uttered. "Did you just call me weird?" He asked, hand on his hip as if he's offended, though he truthfully isn't because he's positive you're infinitely weirder than he is, and he's more than willing to debate with you for hours on that topic.

"Nooo," you sang, quickly turning away to distract yourself with some unpacking that Steve had called you over to help him with, which you happily agreed to. A little extra time with him was time well spent.

"Yeah, okay," he rolled his eyes. He happily tucked away the flashy silverware he'd poached from his parent's kitchen into the darkest corner of the drawer, leaving the less flashy but much more appreciated utensils you bought him, front and center, ready to be shown off.

"Oh those? My best friend got them for me. Aren't they nice? Did you know they make knives for cheese?" He imagined himself saying, hoping he'd get the opportunity to boast about them to his guests some time soon.

Steve smiled to himself at the memory, angling the cutting board that harbored a pile of diced onions that he'd at last conquered, into a bowl, sliding them off with the blade of a knife that was a lot less odd shaped compared to his trusty cheese knife. It didn't even have to be that specific memory. It could've been any imagery of you being the effortlessly sarcastic, intelligent, breath-taking person that you were, and it would be the warm light to inevitably guide him out of whatever dark mood that dared to plague him.

Steve was so helplessly in love with you.

April 14, 1978, he could never forget the day, was particularly dreary. So dreary it made Steve begin to question why the spring time was thought to be such a radiant, pleasant season when all it ever did was bring rain and provoke people with allergies. Steve slammed his blaring alarm off with a groan, never bothering to pry open his tired eyes.

The sky was dark and dreadful, concealing the golden rays of the sun he yearned to see. As he trudged through the house, reluctantly gearing himself up for yet another torturous day of middle school, Steve silently prayed for some unorthodox happenstance that would call for the canceling of school.

But much to his dismay, that wasn't the case.

When the bell pierced through the classroom speakers, alerting the beginning of Steve's favorite class, P.E., he rushed to the locker room, jumping into his gym uniform, as he was determined to continue his unfaltering streak of dodgeball victories.

Steve was in the zone, taking out his opponents left and right as if it was nothing. If dodgeball was an Olympic sport, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he could've won multiple gold medals.

Then you came.

Sauntering into sixth grade gym class, adorning a lengthy, bright yellow dress with your hair done up, looking as anxious as can be. It was your first day at Hawkins Middle and you'd just transferred halfway into the semester, all thanks to your parents decision to move to the small town, leaving New York City and all your friends behind.

Everyone turned their curious heads to peer at you, whispering amongst each other, prompting you to clutch your books tighter to your chest as if to shield yourself. Your soft smile as you looked around at your new classmates instantly made Steve's chest and stomach warm and gooey inside, making him want nothing more than to walk up to you and convince you to be his friend. Steve hated how gossipy his classmates were, as it clearly made you uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to look away either.

The way the illuminous medallion hue complimented your skin tone was nothing short of art. To him, you were the sun personified. The sun he was so eager to see.

Due to your lack of sports attire, Coach Daniels had you sit on the bleachers, watching as the other kids resumed their game of dodgeball after mumbling a "warm" welcome to you, per Coach's request.

Steve lost his first game of dodgeball that day. He just couldn't seem to focus when you were perched just a few feet away, thumbing through your withered book, looking like one of the prettiest girls he'd ever laid his adolescent eyes on. Steve, or the boy with the hella good hair as you dubbed him in your diary later on that night, was too enamored with you to be bothered by the taunts coming from his friends. He jogged over to you, offering to keep you company until fourth period began, which you happily accepted.

And ever since then, the two of you have been as thick as thieves.

"Hawkins PD, open up!" Steve recognized your muffled voice, though you deepened it, to imitate a police officer. Your signature three knocks followed, urging butterflies to erupt throughout his stomach, as he longed to see you. It couldn't have been more than twenty-four hours since the two of you had last seen each other, but even one hour without you was an hour way too long for poor Steve.

"It's open", Steve called, tossing a hand towel over his shoulder, setting the stove ablaze, planting a pot over the flame. Right on time, he thought.

"Hey, Harrington," you smiled as you struggled to enter, cradling two bottles of rosé wine and your purse in your arms, pushing the door open with the help of your hip.

"Hey, sunshine. Lemme get those for ya," Steve offered, stowing your bearings on the counter gently, while you kicked your shoes off, mumbling a "thanks".

A warm amber light casted from the ceiling of the kitchen spilled into the shadowy living room a few feet away, like a neglected can of paint. The only thing that remained un-melted by the darkness was the quiet record player, as if the generous light knew you'd be looking for it the minute you walked in.

"How was your day?" Steve smirked as he watched you rush over to the object he swore was the only reason you liked to come over, sifting through the vinyl's searching for your favorite one. What’s Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner. Steve spotted it before you did. Absentmindedly, you responded, “Not too shabby, ya know? How was yours?”

“Yeah, it was alright.”

You crouched down to the two tier storage table, running a finger across the spines of the records, searching for your beloved song. It quickly became the song you most adored when you'd bought the tape for your Walkman a few years prior. Your days weren't complete unless you played the song at least twice, so much so that Steve found himself quietly humming the song to himself whenever he'd miss you. He even caught himself doing that dumb little finger dance you normally did whenever you listened to a song you really liked. He'd never tell you that, though.

Much to your dismay, you couldn't seem to spy that sneaky record. You dropped your hand disappointedly, faintly fearsome that it'd been misplaced. Steve's apartment wasn't huge, but it wasn't exactly tidy either. “It’s right there, sweets. To your left.” So you diverted your attention to the left. No Tina Turner. “No, your other left.”

“Here?” you pointed. Steve hummed in confirmation.

“Well, that’s not the left, Steve. That’s the right,” was your response that you punctuated with a roll of your tired eyes. Apart from knowing how to get to Skull Rock with his eyes closed, the boy had zero sense of direction. It was something you found both endearing and infuriating. It depended on the day, really.

“Potato, potahto.” Oh, Steve. Melting butter into the burning pan in front of him that he almost completely forgot about, all thanks to your beautiful presence, he began sautéing his diced onions along with some fresh garlic. "Well, speaking of 'potahtoes' you need to be cooking some, 'cause you promised me dinner tonight," you smiled tight-lipped, cocking your head at an angle.

You felt the unpleasant sensation of your stomach growling, cursing you, at the heavenly thought of food as your shift at Family Video earlier today was unforgiving to your non-existent breakfast. You fumbled with the vinyl a bit as the mouthwatering aroma of home cooking stormed your senses and Steve spoke once more. "Feisty today, aren't we?"

"Just a tad," you laughed quietly.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you but tonight we're not having potatoes. I'm making your favorite," he pointed, shuffling the pan to give it a gentle stir. He made sure to turn to face you in time to see your hopefully delighted reaction. "Alfredo?!" you spun around with a glittering grin, almost knocking over Steve's plant. A fake one, of course. A real plant was a bit too much responsibility for him.

At the nod of his head, your cheesy smile soften to a smaller, less toothy one as you watched Steve while he resumed cooking. What you failed to share with your best friend was that the last phrase you'd actually use to describe your day was "not too shabby". Besides waking up almost an entire hour past the start of your shift (Keith made sure to give you an earful about that) and everyone and their mother in town deciding to be at Family Video today, it seemed like your day was never-ending. The only thing keeping your mood from turning stink to sour was the idea of going to see Steve.

Steve was kind of magical in that way. Anger, sadness, anxiety, you name it, it was no match for Steve. Though he was no poet, he had this way with words that would never fail to make you feel so comforted. So safe. Any instance where Steve had to talk you out of whatever mental turmoil you were enduring, it felt you were being endlessly wrapped in a cozy, tight blanket, sheltering you from all the darkness.

How Steve knew you were having a shit day and needed your favorite meal along with your favorite boy? Lord knows. His ability to read you without even needing to be near you was nothing short of wizardry. But like you said. Steve was magical.

"You're the best," you proclaimed, prompting a mumbled sly remark from your chef for the evening, before the music began. Being here, along with the divine sound of Tina's ethereal voice and pasta boiling in water, was more than enough to make you feel like you were right at home, though your true address was miles away. When the time to depart would make its cursed arrival, it was never easy to leave, especially with the way Steve begged for you to stay, using those unfairly adorable puppy dog eyes that paired beautifully with his lengthy lashes, against you.

And it always worked. Well, not always. You had some degree of self-control. But more times than not, you couldn't help but to cave in to his protests. How could you resist? It was Steve.

With a satisfied grin that carved deep smile lines into his blushing cheeks, he'd tuck his sheets snug around your body, repeatedly asking you if you were comfortable enough. His bed was cloud-like, plush and doughy and his pillows smelled like his shampoo and conditioner, a hint of cologne on his comforter. It was like you were trapped in a cocoon of Steve. You wanted to tell him you were beyond comfortable, that there, in his bed, you were in just about your favorite place on Earth but, habitually, you concluded that a simple nod would suffice.

Crawling onto the empty space beside you, he made sure to face you, leaving a soft squeeze on your shoulder before humming "G'night, sunshine," closing his eyes and tucking his hands under his head. And like always, Steve was a perfect gentleman, dead set on never getting under the covers himself when you'd sleep over.

Guilt would disrupt your relaxation at the sight of the brisk night chill building little hills on his freckled arms, though you selfishly loved the way he'd cuddle up to steal some of your body heat. His plump lips would part as he drifted into a peaceful slumber, light snores and chirping crickets being your lullaby.

You hoped to have another night like that soon.

In the midst of times like those, storms of wonder and doubt raged on. Was Steve like this with everyone else? Were you being silly thinking that you and Steve could be more than friends? Being Steve's best friend for nearly a decade, you knew he wasn't exactly a prude. His King Steve era was honestly one of your least favorites. Though he reserved his usual tenderness and affection all for you, you've witnessed a whole slew of girls enter and leave Steve's life, and none of them looked like you.

You wanted nothing more than to be one of the girls he'd have leaned up against his locker, arm resting next to their head, cheeks fanned by his minty breath as he whispered honeyed words. You craved dates at the drive-in theater in Steve's burgundy 1983 BMW only to neglect the movie and end up making out, like he did with other girls.

When Steve would bring his latest lover around, desperately, you did your damnedest to bury your jealousy and and fill its grave with merriment for him, because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Steve. But the girls at school only wanted to be with Steve because of his status and all the flashy things he could buy them.

The flashy things were dull to you, though.

You wanted to be with Steve because you wanted to hold his hand and press soft kisses to his cheek. To hug him a little tighter and little longer than a best friend normally would. To run your fingers through his fluffy hair whenever he would grow stressed because you knew it calmed him down. To make him breakfast in bed when he was sick and even when he wasn't. To love him your fullest potential.

But you had to settle for this. Calves tucked under your thighs with a blanket draped over your legs as you stared off into space, longing for someone you thought you couldn't have, not knowing he was stealing glances of you wondering what was running through your pretty little head.

Resting your arm against the back of the sofa, holding your head up, your lips were downturned in a pout, eyebrows pulled together as you studied the throw pillow a few inches away from you. A little pillow can't be that interesting, something has to be bothering you, he thought. He was unapologetically curious to know if pressing his lips against your own would make that frown melt into that sweet smirk you usually had.

Steve hated when you were unhappy. It made his mind race. Did someone say something to you? Did someone do something to you? Did you eat today? How was your shift? Why did you lie when you said your day "wasn't too shabby"? Obviously it was shabby. Look at your face. That tired and troubled, cute little face. What can he do to fix it? You were his sunshine, you deserved to be happy, always.

Giving the pot a final stir and turning the flame off, Steve carelessly tossed the grease-stained hand towel flopped over his shoulder, down by the sink, strolling over to where he'd earlier set down the two bottles of wine. White Zinfandel. Neither you or Steve were wine connoisseurs, but when you called Nancy panicking about how extensive the selection at the liquor store was, she swore by it.

Balancing two glasses and a single bottle of the rose-tinted alcohol, Steve took an extra glance at your face, deciding to scoop up the second bottle into his arms. By the looks of it, it was gonna be one of those nights.

You tried to hide your smile as you noticed he was coming over, a slight grin on his face as he set the glasses down. You and him both knew he was only coming to cause trouble. He set the delicate haul down on to the thrifted wooden coffee table in front of you, slipping you one of those comforting 'Steve smiles' he usually did.

Like the forgotten towel, he threw himself down on the couch next to you, warm hand having a much softer landing on the plush of your thigh; a familiar and welcomed touch. Habitually, you curled up closer to him, no longer able to hide your smile.

"Why so glum, chum?" He tilted his chin down, slightly poking his bottom lip out, as he looked at you through batting eyelashes.

Laughing through your nose and subsequently parading a grin that displayed nothing but teeth and hollow happiness, you remarked, "What do you mean? Don't you see me smiling?"

You were fooling absolutely no one. Steve knew you were sad. And, goddamn it, he was gonna get it out of you.

"You know exactly what I mean, you weren't smiling just a few seconds ago until I came over. You're welcome, by the way, I'm flattered that I have such an effect on you," he smirked, placing a hand on his chest in gratitude.

"Okay, now I'm glum again," you roll your eyes at his not-so discreet cockiness. You hid your face in your hands, resting your forehead on Steve's shoulder. It was hard with muscle, but soft with tenderness and safety. "I was smiling at the wine, for your information."

The palm of your hand that pressed against your face muffled your words, but Steve could still understand what you said, it was evident in the way your tone was laced with satire.

"Ah, yes, that makes way more sense" Steve replied, monotone. His thumb began coasting along your skin as he urged you, "Alright, jokes aside. How are you really feeling?"

Hoisting your head up, you almost answered before he continued, "And don't give me that 'not too shabby' crap 'cause that frown you had going on earlier already snitched on ya."

When the hell did he get so observant? Steve was no idiot, but sometimes things needed to be spelled out for him. But come to think of it, you never had to spell things out for Steve whenever it came to you. He just always had a way of knowing.

"I don't know, Steve. Honestly. Some days are just a bit tougher than others. Today was one of those days," you murmured, avoiding the attentive gaze he was burning into your shifty eyes.

He slowly nodded as he processed your words, head falling on top of yours as you again found comfort on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as you began mimicking the affection he was giving you on your thigh, rubbing his arm through the creamy cotton material of his crewneck. You hadn't seen it before. This one was new. So were the jeans he'd paired with it.

"Why're you dressed so nice, Harrington?"

He laughed more to himself than to you. "Well, the food can't be the only thing that looks good, you know? Wanted to look nice too. It's our first dinner together, after all," he mumbled the last bit.

Steve felt the skin around your eyes tighten against his shoulder as your eyebrows scrunched together. "We've had dinner together before, though."

"This one's different," he replied, almost instantly. You'd hoped Steve's eyes were still closed so that he wouldn't see the bashfulness you were weathering, plucking the corners of your lips into a soft smile.

A silence fell between the two of you. Not unusual. Not awkward. Never unusual or awkward. There was a mutual cherishment of moments like these. Shamelessly invading each other's personal space on the couch as if it was made to only fit one person, music playing lowly the distance, but preferring to listen to the sound of the other's breathing.

"How can I make you feel better, sunshine?" Steve questioned, voice still hushed. The volume of your voice wasn't much louder as you responded, thoughtlessly, "You don't have to ask me that. You make me feel better without even trying."

"Oh yeah?" He craned his neck so that his head was impossibly closer to yours, awaiting your confirmation. Steve knew that you enjoyed his company, as he did yours, but he was only joking earlier when he gushed about having such an effect on you. It was now his turn to hide his blush, when you hum, nodding your head fervently.

These were the warm moments that confused you so much more than any subject in school ever did. And unbeknownst to you, it messed with Steve's head too. He'd never been this close with anyone before. Especially not with any of his "girlfriends" in the past. Sure, they'd cuddle and talk about their feelings. But it never felt the way it does with you. Steve was in love with you. It was hopeless.

And he had to make it known. Soon. If not, he swore he'd explode.

"Ready to eat?"

"Mhm," you buzzed, untangling yourself from the envelop of Steve. As he pressed his knuckles into the sofa, willing himself up, you reached for the bottle of wine and a glass, but your hand only made it so far until it felt the sting of a petty swipe from the boy next to you. "Ah ah, missy, dinner first. Lord knows how many hours its been since you last ate."

You snorted, "Relax, it hasn't been that long."

"Oh yeah? When was the last time?" He looked at you with raised eyebrows and an expression that said he already knew your answer was going to be ridiculous. And if there was anything you learned tonight, it was that Steve was highly skilled at knowing when you were lying, so instead, you left him with a goofy smile and giggle that told him he was absolutely right in his assumption.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," the spot where he sat went cold as he left to the kitchen, fixing two plates for the both of you. You moved the drinks and glasses over to the dining table, using a nearby lighter to ignite the accompanying lavender and vanilla scented candles. Tina Turner's vinyl was replaced with Tears for Fears' album Songs from The Big Chair instead, as Steve used his elbow to dim the kitchen lights, hands full with heavy plates of pasta.

"Oh my gosh, this looks so good! Good job, Stevie," you cheered, as he set your plate down in front of you, pouring you a much needed glass of wine. Your hands shook with hunger or excitement, or both, as you picked up your fork, ready to dig in. "Yeah, don't get too psyched yet. Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks."

"I'm sure it does."

His knee rests against yours as he sits adjacent to you, gathering food on his fork, though his eyes are peering at you, awaiting your verdict. The mouthwatering smell of garlic, butter, cheese and other heaven-sent elements overwhelm your nose and you feel like you can't eat it soon enough. You pause for a beat and so does his heart, hand over your messy mouth as you chew. Steve's hand twitches as he contemplates wiping the sauce from the corners of your lips and licking his finger clean.

"Steve," you begin, eyes flickering shut. "I'm gonna need you to cook for me every night. This is so fucking good." The tension in his face eases at your palpable delight, mission well accomplished. He was proud of himself. Very proud. Almost as much as you were of him.

You throw your head back, the purest form of satisfaction consuming you. "I'm glad you like it, I've been trying to nail it for weeks," Steve laughs, finally taking a bite for himself.

"Well, you've succeeded," you beam, washing it down with a sip of wine. Everybody Wants to Rule the World begins playing and you smile at Steve, knowing it was his favorite song at the moment. You nod your head along as Steve hums. A truly peaceful pocket in time.

Through the large windows opening the living room to the rest of Hawkins, you had the perfect view of the bright lights and mountainous buildings from the neighboring city. It was like the sky had flipped on its axis and the stars weren't in the sky anymore, they were among the trees and high rise properties.

"Steve, look how pretty," you point towards the window as his gaze shifts from you to raindrop-riddled glass. "I love being able to see the city so close. Sucks that we can't see the stars, though. I've always wanted to go stargazing."

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that a while ago. We gotta go one of these days," he replied, shoving a forkful of alfredo into his mouth.

"Oh, did you wanna go too?"

He shrugs his shoulders, chewing before speaking, "Eh, I'm not really a big stars guy. Besides, if I wanna see a pretty little light, all I gotta do is look at you," he says inattentively, going right back to eating as if he hadn't just said the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you.

"Shut up, Harrington," you roll your eyes, letting out a half-hearted laugh as you take your last bite. How could he flirt with you so easily? So carelessly? Couldn't he see that you loved him and that whenever he says things like that it does something to you? Clueless boy.

"I'm serious. Why do you think I always call you sunshine?" He replies, not a hint of irony in his face.

"Steve," you warn, sitting back in your chair. You didn't know where this conversation was going, and you'd be damned if you got your hopes up for what you always got whenever you did: absolutely nothing.

"It's why I love when you wear yellow. Reminds me of the first time I ever saw you," he pressed. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Clueless girl.

"Steve," your voice wavered. "What? Why do you keep saying my name like that?" He laughed, dryly.

He grew worried that he was saying too much. Saying things that a person shouldn't say to their best friend. He took a sip of his wine. Then another. Then another. He was considering just downing the whole glass. Maybe he was saying too much.

Screw that, he was in love with you.

"What're you saying to me right now?" You charged, voice a little harsher than what you'd intended, but you demanded an answer. A straightforward one. "I'm saying that I'm done hiding it."

"Hiding what?"

"That I love you."

The revelation yanks your parted lips shut, unsure of what to say next. You had dreamed for what felt like a lifetime for Steve to say those words to you and at last, it was no longer a dream, but instead reality. The rapid pace of your heartbeat could be felt in your chest and ears, and the butterflies in your stomach were more wild and untamed than ever before.

Steve's eyes didn't leave yours, though the stillness from you was killing him. The silence between you two that was once never awkward or unusual, was now painful and nearly unbearable.

Your dilated pupils scanned over his face, relentlessly. The jokey, teasing grin that he often sported when he was messing with you was unaccounted for. Holy shit. The gate to your thoughts opened once more. "You're serious," you whispered.

"How could I not be?" Steve watched you with adoring eyes, the warm light of the candle giving the melted chocolatey pond the sweetest infusion of honey.

"Kiss me."

Forks and butter knives fall to the ground with several, loud unpleasant clanks as Steve leans over the square dining table, hungrily pressing his lips against yours. His lips are garlicky and a little chapped, as yours probably are as well, yet the kiss is nothing short of perfect.

His mouth does a passionate dance against yours as you follow his lead, embracing the plush little pillows with your own. It was both everything you've imagined it'd be and nothing like you'd thought at the same time. You already knew Steve was an amazing kisser. Anyone who went to Hawkins High knew it. But experiencing it for yourself was completely different and new. It was euphoric.

The two of you have to reluctantly pull yourselves off of each other to catch your breaths. This moment was a long time coming.

Steve's hands are still holding onto to either side of your face, unwilling to let you go just yet. Truly savoring every second of the present. His breath fans across your cupid's bow, as he smiles against your lips. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

Giggling, you wrap your palms and fingers around his wrists, rubbing your nose on his. "Sorry," you shrug, feeling his thumbs caress your warm cheeks.

"Don't be," he shakes his head, engulfing your soft lips into another kiss.

message from jojo: pls comment and reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot <3

[cameronsprincess]

Forbidden — S.H

— summary: things between you and your bodyguard are anything but professional.

— CW: smut! 18+ only! popstar!reader, bodyguard!steve, semi-public sex, fingering, protected sex, strong language.

“Thank you Dallas, Texas! You guys showed up and showed out tonight, and I am eternally grateful for every single one of you!”

The sound of the crowds loud cheers had you smiling from ear to ear. Even though you’d been living this lifestyle for going on seven years, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to it.

The fans. The sold out stadiums. Albums reaching top ten on streaming platforms. All of it. It was all a dream come true, and you meant it when you said you were so grateful.

You smiled widely, blowing one final kiss to the rambunctious crowd before you disappeared back stage.

Immediately, you’re swarmed by everyone in your crew, your manager, Julie, being the first to approach you.

“You did amazing tonight, sweetheart! Steve is waiting for you by the dressing room, quickly change, have Steve grab your things and let’s get loaded up. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

She grabs your hands, pulling you in for a quick kiss on the cheek before she rushes off to help get everything squared away for the night.

As you approached the single dressing room that sits farther in the back, your heart begins thumping wildly in your chest. You and your bodyguard had a… less than professional type of relationship to say the least… And you always looked forward to the end of the night, after your show during that small — but lengthy enough — time period where you and Steve could be alone.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” Steve said in greeting, nodding his head at you once.

You smiled. “Mr. Harrington, always a pleasure.”

A wide grin took over Steve’s face, his eyes darting behind you to make sure no one else was around. Satisfied that it was just the two of you, he gripped your hand tightly, opening the door to the dressing room and dragging you inside, kicking the door shut behind him and locking it.

“Mr. Harrington,” you gasped, a small chuckle pulled from your chest. “Eager are we?”

Steve’s large hands gripped at your waist, his fingers digging into the flesh through your tight, purple sparkly dress. He pulled your body flush into his, dipping his head down and whispering, “Always eager when it comes to you, baby.”

Before you could respond, his lips were crashing onto yours. You melted into his touch, the kiss sending sparks of electricity through your veins. You knew it was wrong, it was highly inappropriate to have a relationship like this with your bodyguard, but you didn’t care. The moment your eyes had landed on Steve Harrington, you knew you wanted him.

With perfect brown hair, beautiful brown eyes, tall, muscular body, perfect lips. He was the epitome of perfection.

Steve broke the kiss, your lips chasing his when he did. You frowned, “Why’d you stop? We don’t have much ti-”

“Shhhh,” He paused, his fingers playing with the thin straps of your dress, dropping them down your shoulders. His chocolate eyes stayed on yours, watching intently as he stripped you of the fabric. “We have plenty of time, trust me.”

You nodded, your dress now pooled around your ankles on the floor. You felt your face heat up, a blush creeping up the back of your neck and to your cheeks under the intense heat of Steve’s eyes. No matter how many times you hooked up with him, it always felt like the first. He always made you feel beautiful, he had a way of making you nervous with just one look, one word, one kiss.

His lips landed on yours again, his hands finding your waist again, fingers pushing into the waistband of your panties. He slowly slides them down your thighs, letting them pool around your ankles and you quickly pick your feet up, kicking them across the room.

Steve’s fingers slide over your slick folds, a groan emitting from his chest. He smirks against your lips, “So fucking wet, is this all for me gorgeous?”

Your tongue flicks his upper lip, your own smirk making its way to your lips. “Always for you, Stevie.”

A low growl forms in his chest as his fingers continue to slide back and forth through your slick. He shoves his middle and ring fingers into your soaked pussy, making you gasp softly at the slight stretch they brought you.

“Steve, so good.” You whimper, eyes squeezing shut as he quickly thrusts his fingers in and out.

You’re panting, your orgasm growing deep in your lower belly as Steve continues his assault on your cunt with his fingers. “Steve, s-so close.” you breathe out.

“Doing so good f’me baby, be my good girl and cum on my fingers, okay? Gonna have you falling apart on my cock next.”

He dips his head down, his lips leaving soft kisses on your neck and shoulder as his fingers push you over the edge. Your knees buckle, your entire body shaking from the mind blowing orgasm that washes over you.

Steve finger fucks you through your high, letting your body fall limp in his hold before he finally removes his fingers from inside you. He wraps his right arm underneath your knees, his left arm supporting your upper half as he carries you toward the couch in the dressing room. He lays you gently onto your back, “You still got one more in you, sweetheart?”

You give him a lazy smile, slowly nodding your head, “Of course. Help me sleep tonight.”

The grin on his face grows as his fingers hastily work the button and zipper of his black slacks. He shoves his pants and boxers down his legs, working on the black button up shirt next. He removes his earpiece, tossing it onto the small table in the room and opens up the condom he’d dug out of his wallet before he discarded his slacks.

You watch with wide, lust filled eyes as he rolls the condom down his impressive length. Long, and thick. He always had you salivating at the mere sight of him.

Steve reached the couch in two long strides, climbing on top of you, his right hand holding him up so he didn’t crush you under his weight. His left hand gripped his cock, sliding the head through your slick folds, his beautiful brown eyes on yours. “You ready?” he asks.

You buck your hips up in response, causing him to chuckle as he slowly eases himself inside you. You moan, the feel of his thick cock finally stretching you making your mind go blank.

“Fffffuck, Steve!” you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your nails into his broad shoulders.

He hisses in a breath, your fingers breaking through his soft skin as he finally bottoms out, his tip nudging that spot inside you that has stars exploding behind your eyes.

“Shit, always so fucking hot and tight and wet. I fucking love this pussy, sweetheart.”

His hips begin moving, his cock pushing into you at a brutal pace. He lifts your right leg with his left arm, opening you up more for him, allowing him to pound into you from a better angle.

The small dressing room is filled with moans, heavy breathing and skin slapping skin as Steve fucks into you, that familiar feeling brewing in your lower belly as your second orgasm nears.

“Stevie, s’close! Please, go harder!” you cry out.

He does as you ask, pushing himself into you with more force, slowly pulling out so only the tip remains inside you before slamming back in with brutal force. He groans when your pussy tightens around his cock, his eyes nearly rolling out of his skull at the sweet sensation. “Go on, sweetheart, I feel you squeezing me. Cum f’me, cum all over my cock like the good girl you are.”

A mixture of Steve’s words and the way his tip was repeatedly hitting your g-spot had you spiraling over the edge, moans and his name falling from your lips as you came undone around him.

“Steve! Shit, shit shit!”

Steve came undone right behind you, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he pushed into you one final time before spilling his load into the condom.

He lay on top of you, supporting his weight on his right hand again as he stroked your cheek with his left. “I’ll never tire of you, sweetheart. It sucks this has to be so secretive, but you’re my favorite secret.”

You smile softly at him, “You’re my favorite secret too, and maybe once your contract ends we can go public, but we can’t afford you getting into trouble over something so trivial.”

He plants one final kiss to your lips, pushing himself up and off the couch and quickly dressing. “I know, only two years left, sweetheart. Hopefully you never grow sick of me, and maybe we’ll have a real shot once i’m no longer an employee under a hard thumb of rules.”

You open your mouth to respond but Steve shushes you, “Shhh, I don’t want to hear any apologies from you. Get dressed, we have to get going before Julie starts searching for you.”

STEVE TAGLIST: @drewstarkeyslut @halflifejess @starkeysprincess @redhead1180 @maybankskiss @simars3 @antagonize-me-motherfucker

Steve Harrington masterlist | taglist form

[fantasticallyfruity4]

Eddie is so hardcore with the pet names and Steve doesn’t know how to handle it.

Becuase no one’s ever called him the sweet names and terms of endearment. Tbh was always his job.

It’s the morning after Steve’s stayed the night the first time, and he’s making breakfast in the tight trailer kitchen one morning and Eddie gently moves him forward with soft hands on his back, with a kiss to his shoulder as he scoots behind him to refill his coffee cup.

“ ‘Scuse me baby love” me mutters, still pretty much asleep and not really aware of the effect he’s having on Steve. (Steve is ready to scream). Steve blushes, a little light headed the rest of the time he’s cooking.

And then there’s that time Eddie offered to just change Steve’s oil for him because ‘it’s really not that hard why pay $20 when I can just do it’ and Steve insisted he’d feel too bad. So eddie countered “fine, then you can help me if that makes it better”.

And while Steve’s sitting on the porch of the trailer being absolutely fucking useless -because of corse Eddie wasn’t gonna actually let him help he wouldn’t know how to be good for shit with cars anyway- Eddie suddenly called out “hey sweetheart? Can you go grab me a glass of water?”

And of corse Steve can do that he can do literally anything eddie asks in that tone. And does sweetheart give him a head rush? Yeah. But it’s what happens after that really gets him fucked up.

“Thank you pretty boy, you’re a life saver” Eddie grins, leaning over- careful to avoid getting any oil on Steve- and pressing a kiss to his cheek. And Steve keeps playing those words in his head for weeks. Pretty boy

And then there’s the honey boy incident. Steve can never get over that one. Fucking hell, honey boy. Where does eddie get these ideas from?

And then there had been that time steve was picking up the kids from hellfire, but apparently they’d decided to go play a game of manhunt in the time since eddie cut them loose from their journey and then Steve arrived.

And fuck, no way in hell was Steve going to rush the kids. Not when they were finally relaxed and safe enough to just be kids for once. So while leaving against the Beamer he was greeted by a grinning eddie.

“Hey baby boy, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He practically fucking purred, coming in close to Steve’s personal space- Eddie’s favorite place to be. And Steve’s favorite place for Eddie to be. Eddie knew damn well Steve was getting the kids today. Like every day he spent chauffeuring the kids or Robin around. And Eddie knew damn well those kids were off in the woods being assholes. And knew damn well he had some free time to flirt with his boyfriend because Steve would never take away these kinds of memories from his kids. So yeah he wanted to lay it on thick.

But baby boy? Steve was going to explode. So simple but so overwhelming.

“You can’t keep doing this to me”. It came out way whinier than Steve had wanted it to.

“Can’t keep doing what?” “Calling me those names! It’s embarassing!”

Eddie just grinned brighter.

“Is it embarrassing? Because it seems like you like it a lot. The way you blush, the way you sit there and babble after trying to get your brain to work again-“

“I do not-“ “oh baby you always do. You love it when I call you pretty names. Just admit it and I’ll never stop”

[literaryavenger]

Not So Bad

Summary: It's Bucky's birthday, but he doesn't want to make a big deal out of it.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Language. None, really just fluff. No mentions of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1K

A/N: He's my second story for today. Happy birthday, Bucky! Thanks to @ordelixx for the idea and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for read proofing it.

Masterlist

Ever since he’s rejoined society and gained the closest thing he can have to a normal life, being a supersoldier and all, there’s one thing that Bucky can’t bring himself to do: celebrate his birthday.

The more memories he regains, the more he remembers a time where he used to celebrate his birthday with his family and his friends.

Sure, they didn’t have much, but he had his mom and his sister and Steve. It was a simpler yet happier time, and he now all he feels is gloomy.

So every year he treats it like any other day. He trains and goes on missions if he has to, and if he’s in the compound he chills with a book or maybe takes a motorcycle ride, never once even making it known to the rest of the team that it’s his birthday.

“Seriously, Buck? That’s how you’re gonna spend your whole day?” Steve asks Bucky as they walk down the hallway towards their rooms.

“Yes, seriously.” Bucky answers with a roll of his eyes. Every year Steve tries to get Bucky to do something more to celebrate his birthday, but Bucky never budges. “You know damn well what I think about my birthday.”

Steve groans and stops walking, causing Bucky to stop too, and tries one last time before leaving Bucky to his sulking. “I know, but come on! Let’s at least do something together. Let’s celebrate your birthday like we used to, go to Coney Island or something. Don’t spend the day alone!”

“We spend everyday together, Rogers. Sometimes it’s nice to get a break.” Bucky jokes with a smirk before he starts walking again and leaves Steve to chuckle and roll his eyes before he walks to his own room.

What neither of the supersoldiers realized is that they had stopped right in front of your room to talk, just as you were about to walk out. You stopped in your tracks and listened to their conversation.

It’s Bucky’s birthday? How did you not know that? Sure it’s not like you’re the best of friends, but you’re still pretty close. You should’ve known that.

So you decide to do something nice for him today while still respecting his wishes of having a low-key day. You take your purse and jacket and head to the garage, getting into your car and driving towards the city.

Truth is, you’ve always had a crush on the Sergeant. It was hard not to when he looked the way he did, and he was as sweet as Bucky was. 

As intimidating as he might look, you knew how shy he could be. He got flustered easily when he got a compliment, and you found him so adorable when he started blushing and stuttering.

You go to the bookstore you know Bucky loves to browse when he is in the city, it’s a small store that’s filled with second hand books. Bucky always said that he loved to give books a second chance, just like he got one after Hydra. 

You look through the books until you find the perfect one: Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.

The team saw the movie together when it was Steve’s turn to pick, and as you sat next to Bucky you heard him quietly talk with Steve about the details they remembered from reading the book in the 30s. 

You go to Bucky’s favorite bakery next and buy two dozen of his favorite cupcakes, and when you see that they sell different colors of candles you have to buy a gold and black one.

You drive back to the compound and, after dropping the rest of the cupcakes in the kitchen for the team, you take one, putting the candle on top of it and taking a lighter. You go to Bucky’s room, cupcake in one hand and gift bag in the other, and knock on his door. 

“Come in.” Bucky says from inside, thinking it’s Steve coming to bother him again.

You open the door slightly and look inside, seeing him sitting on his bed with his back against the headboard and a book in his hands.

“Am I bothering you?” You ask hesitantly.

“N-no, you’re not. Come in.” Bucky says quickly, closing his book and sitting up straighter.

You open the door completely and enter his room, taking a couple of steps towards him before stopping. “I… I got you something.”

Bucky’s eyes widen a little as he sees the cupcake and the gift bag you’re holding out to him.

“Did Steve tell you?” His eyes narrow a little, and you squirm a little under his gaze and shake your head.

“I overheard you talking about it…” You say quietly, a little embarrassed. “I get that you don’t want a party or anything, but I thought… I don’t know, I just wanted to do something nice for you on your birthday…”

You start to second guess yourself as he just looks at you and, just as you’re about to backtrack on your stupid idea and leave him alone, he smiles brightly at you, sitting on the edge of his bed and patting the spot next to him.

You sit next to him and you put the bag on his bed so you can light the candle and hold the cupcake out to him with a smile. “Make a wish.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. He knows what he wants to wish for, the thing is he already got his wish: you in his room, sitting with him on his bed. But he makes his wish anyway before blowing out the candle.

He wished for you to be his.

You smile at each other for a moment before you snap yourself out of it, shaking your head a little and picking up his present and giving it to him.

He puts the cupcake on his nightstand as he takes the bag and opens it and you can see his face light up when he sees it as he runs his fingers down the cover before looking at you with a smile. “Thank you, doll.”

You smile back at him and lean in to kiss his cheek. “Happy birthday, Bucky.” You say before getting up and leaving, letting him have his peaceful day of relaxation. 

Bucky watches you go with a slight blush, his hand over his cheek where you kissed it and a goofy smile on his face.

Perhaps celebrating his birthday is not such a bad thing after all.

[lives-in-midgard]

More Than Friends

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: You overhear some shield agents talking rude things about you, when you want to go away you suddenly hear Steve say something to them.

Word Count: 1190

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for Steve, I hope you like this! 💗

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

It’s been a few months since you joined the Avengers. You have been a shield agent before and helped them on a few missions. That’s how you have gotten closer to them and then were asked to join them. Then everything changed quickly, you got your own room at the Avengers compound and were now one of them. You became very close to them, especially to Bucky, Natasha and Steve. You really enjoy spending time together and can talk to them about anything.

Today you had a meeting with the Avengers about the next mission. It was a very important one and will be with Steve, Bucky and you. There was also a Shield agent there because she had some information for the mission. Her name is Jessica and you were never really friends with her. She never liked you and when you were hanging out with the Avengers and then even joined them, she became more and more unfriendly to you. When it was mentioned that you would join the mission, she rolled her eyes and you could see how annoyed she was. You tried to ignore Jessica as best as you could but when you looked over to Steve, you saw that he noticed her as well. When he saw that you were looking at him Steve smiled at you.

After the meeting was over, everyone began to leave the meeting room. You were about to leave when Steve said your name.

“Hey, would you like to have lunch with me?” Steve asked you with a smile.

“Yeah, sure that would be great.” You said and smiled back at him. You heard Jessica mumble something behind you, but you weren’t sure what she said. But it must have been something rude because you noticed how Steve tensed up beside you and made a fist with his right hand. Steve was about to turn around, but you touched his arm.

“Steve?” You said in a soft tone, and he looked back to you. You didn’t want Steve to say something to her. You didn’t want him to start an argument or anything like that. She’s not worth it.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He said with a smile, and you began to blush. It still makes you nervous when he calls you by that petname.

“Where would you like to go for lunch?” You asked.

“How about we go to the restaurant that you like?” Steve asked with a smile, and you nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You said while walking through the hall with Steve. You walked with him to his car and sat down on the passenger seat. You talked a lot during the drive. You had a great time at the restaurant and when you came back to the compound, Steve asked you if you would like to watch a movie with him. You always enjoy spending time and so does Steve. Even if you sometimes almost fall asleep on his shoulder. Well, if Steve is honest, he really likes that, just like you do. When the movie ended you walked back to your room, which is one floor below Steve’s room. After a while you felt asleep and had a really good dream.

The next day you went for a morning run with Steve and Sam and then had breakfast. Then you spend some time with Steve and Bucky in the living room. Later you finished the paperwork from the last mission and were about to bring them to Fury who was at the compound. When you were on your way back to your room, you heard someone talking rude things about someone and laughing. Then you noticed that it was Jessica and some other Shield agents.

“She’s so annoying and I really can’t understand why the Avengers like her. Especially Steve.” You took a shaky breath and started to play with your hands. It’s the second time that you heard them talk about you like that.

“Yeah, Steve is so gorgeous and hot and she isn’t.” You heard the other one say and then the other one laughed.

“She doesn’t fit in with the Avengers, she didn’t even fit in with us.” They said and suddenly stopped talking. You were about to turn around and walk away when you suddenly heard Steve.

“You’re right she didn’t fit in with Shield and yeah, maybe she doesn’t fit in with the Avengers but-” You could already feel tears in your eyes and didn’t want to hear more. You didn’t want to hear him say something rude about you as well. So, you quickly turned around, walked to your room and wiped the tears away from your cheek. On the way to your room you passed Bucky, who looked worried about you.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked worried and you just nodded. When you got to your room, you laid down in your bed and started to cry. A while later, you suddenly heard a knock on your door. You didn’t say anything, but whoever it was knocked again.

“Hey, it’s me Steve.” He softly said.

“Go away, I don’t want to see you right now.” You shouted and sat up.

“What why?” He said as he opened the door and looked into your room.

“I said I don’t want to see you.” When he saw the tears in your eyes you quickly wiped them away.

“What happened?” He asked worried.

“You know it exactly.” Now Steve looked confused, and you got annoyed.

“I heard what you said to the Shield Agents…that I didn’t fit in with them and also not with the Avengers.” When Steve realized what you just said he walked closer to you.

“Did you also hear what I said next?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No, I didn’t need to hear more.” As you said that Steve looked at you with a soft smile.

“Well then you missed the good part.”

“What?”

“Because I said that you’re one of the smartest and most loving people I know. You’re different but that doesn’t make you any less of an Avenger, we are all different. And they’re right you really didn’t fit in with them because you’re way smarter, prettier and hotter than they are.” Steve finished and you couldn’t believe that he just called you pretty and hot.

“You really said that?”

“Yes, and it’s the truth.” Steve said and took your hand.

“I’m sorry that they talked about you like that, but they will definitely never do that again.” He said and slowly rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Thank you for defending me.”

“No problem, that’s what friends do, right?”

“I’m not sure if friends call each other hot.” You said and then giggled.

“But it’s true and yeah, I guess I like you more than just as a friend. Would that be bad?” Steve asked nervous.

“No, it wouldn’t be bad because I want to be more than just friends too.” You said and Steve immediately began to smile.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” He asked with a smile.

“I would love to.”

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @rogersbarber | @eviebuggg | @nicoline1998enilocin | @nekoannie-chan | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @sgtgarricks | @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 | @cutedisneygirl | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @buckys-wintersoldier

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Steve Harrington x Reader | Steve is on a mission to get you pregnant, as a thunderstorm rages outside… | Includes breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex (naturally lol) and mentions of drinking wine.

(This fic pairs well with a previous post ⛈️)

You were busy chatting away, all giggly and excited as you told Steve a funny story from work. You didn’t realize his attention had drifted far away from your words by the point his second glass had been emptied. Steve’s dark hazel eyes were focused on your lips, and the blush spreading your cheeks from the wine you were sharing…the pretty sound of your voice as you spoke, the way your animated gestures caused your breasts to jiggle over the top of your dress...

Steve distractedly pulled his fingertip along the edge of his wine glass, his eyes wandering up and down your face and body with a wolfish intensity he made no effort to hide. Steve’s main focus, as always, was on you. And tonight, with the promise of a storm rumbling nearer by the minute, it seemed that Mother Nature herself was beckoning Steve, practically begging him, to ask the question…

“Do you want a baby, (y/n)?” Steve asked. Your eyes widened, a bashful smile heating your cheeks. Steve already knew the answer to his question; you’d both discussed a mutual desire for children quite some time ago. Obviously, the two of you were having sex, and often. But you were still on the pill (when you remembered to take it, at least) and since the subject of actively trying to get pregnant hadn’t been seriously discussed, Steve was still pulling out each time he came.

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, or the soft, pretty glaze in his eyes it had created, that made Steve’s suggestion especially tempting, exciting, almost dangerous…?

He was serious. And you knew it.

It’s how you ended up in bed less than ten minutes later, a mess of arms and legs tangled together, lips searching, craving one another with an intensity that rivaled the raging storm outside.

Steve had made his mission clear, through a series of slick kisses that tasted like you, climbing up your body from where his face had been nestled between your thighs: he was going to get you pregnant.

Your fingers clutched the edge of the mattress, nails digging crescent shapes into the foam. Steve’s breath was hot against your neck, raising goosebumps along your shoulders, the groans from between his lips thick and labored. The hair spread over Steve’s chest, moist and curled with sweat, rubbed coarsely against your back, stomach muscles taut where his body rounded yours, enveloping you.

Steve took you with both the soft, steady rhythm of making love, and the rough, selfish thrusts of a man wanting only to fuck you. The storm outside boiled over, a burst of white light illuminating the bedroom, the sharp crack of lightning briefly masking your cries of Steve’s name. The sweat on your skin glittered in the sudden light, which flickered like a dying bulb through the bedroom window. Steve dipped his forehead to your shoulder, his tongue pulling a quick stripe across your back, tasting your skin. You shivered at the contact of his warm, wet tongue, your clit throbbing in response to the stimulation.

Thunder rolled close by, vibrating the mattress Steve had you splayed against. His right hand slid beneath you and cupped your breast, groping you gently as his voice panted hot and breathy at your ear. “I’m so fuckin’ close, honey.” The weight of Steve’s balls slapped against your ass, heavy and full. Steve had so much cum to give you, enough to keep you dripping for days.

He exhaled against your shoulder, his voice focused, forehead creased in concentration. “Gonna feed this pussy so good tonight-” Steve murmured, his voice breaking softly. “-fuck a pair of twins inside you before morning…” Lightning erupted nearby, crackling loudly above the room. Steve’s growl of release was drowned out by the sound of the storm, his climax overtaking him as the room around you was splashed in light. Thunder rolled deep and slowly, drawing further and further away. Steve’s groans devolved into a low whimper of relief as his body softly crumpled into you, his wet lips finding yours from behind.

“Think we did it?” he asked, and you giggled a little, rolling onto your back so you were looking up at Steve. He didn’t quite understand, so you explained that it would likely take at least a few months of really trying, timing cycles, charting temperature, etc, before you’d actually get pregnant. “Well,” Steve shrugged, undeterred. “Even if it doesn’t happen tonight-.” He tugged your body into his chest, stroking back your hair with his hand. “-I sure as hell don’t mind practicing…” 💜

[hawkinsbnbg]

Being roommates with the former king of Hawkins High was a lot nicer than Eddie thought.

The guy was surprisingly kind, endearing, dorky, and also unfairly attractive.

Though Eddie kind of never outgrew the crush he had on Steve since high school, he wasn't delusional enough to think they had a chance together.

And seeing as Eddie knew nothing would ever come out of it, flirting with Steve had become one of his habits at this point.

That said, when he watched Steve putting on a lip balm, he didn't think twice before running his mouth again.

"New flavor?"

"Yep, Robin just gave me this one yesterday," Steve smacked his lips together, making a pop sound and giving Eddie a hard time concentrating on anything else.

"And you didn't think to give me a taste, sweetheart?" Eddie leaned in closer and raised his brow teasingly.

It should be a bad thing that Eddie wasn't lying. He indeed wanted to taste those lips and he hoped that Steve didn't pick up on the desire that leaked into his words.

On the other hand, Eddie was waiting for Steve to stutter again so he could laugh and they could move on from this weird tension settling between them.

God knew why Eddie had to put himself into this situation countless times and never learned his lesson.

However, he supposed it was because he didn't know how to quit whenever it came to Steve who would always blush deliciously at his poor flirting.

And then, the one thing Eddie never expected to happen happened. He was pulled into a kiss by Steve Harrington.

By the time Eddie was released from that heaven of sweetness, he could only stare at those lush lips dazedly. "Oh, it's strawberry."

"Correct," Steve's lips curved in a pretty smile and Eddie suddenly wanted to taste them again.

Considering Eddie had no brain-to-mouth filter, he just blurted out his thoughts. "Can we go back to kissing?"

"You have no shame, don't you, Munson?" Steve chuckled, eyes twinkling with mirth and something else that gave Eddie hope.

"If it helps me get my lips on yours," Eddie brought his hand up to stroke the side of Steve's face gently. "Then no, I don't need any shame."

"It seems I gotta shut you up lest your mouth runs wild again," Steve whispered before locking his lips with Eddie's once more.

With a lapful of Steve, Eddie realized they might have a chance together after all.

And he just knew strawberries would never be the same to either of them anymore.